There's a small scene after the author's note. It doesn't have to do with the current plot, but I had it floating around on an old draft from one of my scrapped chapters. I liked it, so I'm adding it.
She had no right, none. Legally, this would count as a misdemeanor or a felony offense, depending on how many times it happened. I had tried to make up for what I'd done, but clearly, it would never be enough.
I was tired of being hurt, lied to, or pushed around.
I'd accepted the scorn.
I'd been hit.
I couldn't keep living this way.
I was done.
I wouldn't be like Hayama. Always too scared to stand up. I hated him, and the way that I was right now, I hated myself too.
Maybe the only language this bitch spoke was power. "If you harass me ever again, I will file for an emergency restraining order.
I smiled at her pleasantly, keeping my tone on the sincere side of saccharine. She'd stilled at this point, so I leaned in to whisper in her ear. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that it came to this."
I turned and marched to the table, laying my napkin gently on my lap. "Sorry for that. I had to deal with a small situation. What were we talking about?" The other restaurant patrons stared, but I met their gazes without hesitation.
The guilt inside had consumed me. If nothing I ever did would be enough, did it even matter if I felt guilty?
"Is it true what she said?" Orimoto asked with an uncharacteristically timid voice.
"No, it isn't. I was a friend of the lawyer who got Ichiro Unuzawa released. When she stormed into the law offices, she saw us talking together, and now she gets hysterical every time that she sees me." I offered a friendly smile while lying through my teeth and then calmly changed the subject. "I'm really excited about the lamb chops. I wonder if the fact that they're imported from New Zealand actually means that they're better?"
Haruno's smile turned cattily smug as she watched me converse with Orimoto. Her friend took the chance to chime in. "Do you know Hayato Hayama?"
"Yeah, I do. What of it?" I kept my tone airy. With a sinking feeling, I looked at the mask Haruno wore and realized it was like looking in a mirror.
Nothing separated what I did and what she did. The thought didn't scare me as much as it might've in the past now, I just felt disgusted.
I took another sip from my glass as Haruno called Hayama and subtly ordered him to show up. The food arrived before he did, and I took the chance to savor the cut of meat.
It was seasoned masterfully and cooked well on the outside, with the center as rare as a catholic in Japan. Haruno took a few bites of her lobster ravioli but seemed much more interested in peppering the other two girls with questions.
Hayama arrived, dressed in a business casual sports jacket and slacks. He seemed disappointed when he saw me, but the feeling of disinterest in the other was mutual. Orimoto and Nakamachi gushed over him as he sat with us. I took the chance to finish my plate. I ordered a dessert and enjoyed a Creme Brulee as Haruno led the conversation to where she wanted it to go.
Eventually, Hayama handed over his email address, and the two girls left soon after. Apologizing but saying that they had homework that needed to get done. The three people whose first names started with 'H' were left sitting together.
As I looked at them and looked at myself. I realized we were all reflections of each other.
Distorted in some way, but the fundamental essence stayed the same. I hated it.
I didn't want to go back, to stay sniveling and weak. But neither did I want to become like the two before me. Unable to be genuine or to really grasp the things in life that they wanted.
That left only one option that I could think of. Being genuine. It was the only way forward. It also fucking sucked.
No more hiding. Time to face things with honesty.
"Well, I'd say that this has been fun, but it hasn't, so I won't. Later." I stood, and Hayama tried to follow.
"Hikigaya, can I have a moment of your time?" Although there was no one around that didn't know he was faking an amicable expression, he still made the effort.
"No. I'm tired. If it's important, we can discuss it tomorrow; though, if I'm being honest, I very much doubt that it is." I left unbothered. When I was outside, I pulled out my phone and called the Ryuujugami lieutenant who ran their Chiba branch operations. "Hey, I need a ride. I'll text you my location."
I waited patiently as it began to drizzle, and within ten minutes, a black economy sedan screeched to a stop in front of the restaurant. I climbed in; the scarred man driving asked me to direct him.
I cracked the window to ameliorate the stench of his still-smoldering cigarette. Within fifteen minutes, I was home. Quickly jogging to get out of the rain and unlocking the door. I took off my shoes and put on my house slippers before trudging into the warm house.
As I reached the top of the staircase. I looked left. The direction of my parent's room. The tears Kaguya had shed for her father lay fresh in my mind. If they died tomorrow, was this the ending that I would want? I walked forwards toward their room and knocked.
My father pulled open the door. "What do you need Ko-. Oh, hello, Hachiman."
"Can I come in?" I asked.
"Of course." He turns and enters; I follow him in. My mom lay belly up on the bed, but she sprang to her feet when she saw me. "Hachiman. What are you doing here?"
"I came to talk." Their eyes widened, but I cut off any attempt at a response by raising my hand. The universal sign for stop. "We haven't always had the best relationship. You haven't always been the best parents. But I can't really be bothered to care anymore. You guys did your best. I don't think you'll ever really be my parents; that ship has sailed. But we can rebuild our relationship as a family. That's all."
"Is that what you want?" My mom asked quietly. The shrewd glint flashing in her eyes was what made her a competent lawyer.
I pursed my lips and considered. "I suppose so."
"Then, we would be so grateful if you gave us another chance." My father smiled, tears brimming in his eyes.
"You're welcome." I replied, turning to leave the room.
~/~
Komachi came home not long after, wearing the expression of a cat doused by ice water. I was reading on a tablet computer - the one shipped back to me by the Shinomiya residence - when she came in. "Hey, little sister. How were the etiquette lessons today?"
"Dogshit. I can't ever seem to get anything done as well as she wants it." She snarked.
"Language." I chided, coughing to disguise my chuckle when she flipped me off.
"There are still four weeks to get ready, at least." She sighed. "I hate how I had to drop out of the calligraphy club."
I offered a commiserating sound in response. "Sacrifices have to be made to get what you want."
"That they do." She agreed, cracking open a can of Maxx coffee and joining me on the living room couch. "I noticed that you stopped drinking Maxx coffee. What's up with that?"
"Tastes can change." I replied, not taking my eyes off the article that I was reading.
"Like yours did. With Ai?" She asked.
Well, that got my attention. "Yeah. I take it you heard from her."
She shrugged. It was vexing but also hopeful. Maybe, she could reach the Shuuchin level of subterfuge and polite masks.
I'm starting to think that she would be just fine.
"She lied for years. That's enough to alter anyone's taste." I laughed, though there was little mirth behind it. "She's my friend, but I don't want anything more. It'll probably take more time just to forgive her."
"You're more talkative today." Komachi's eyes were curious.
"Yeah, well, I've changed my attitude. From now on, I'm done hiding and running. I can't keep living this way." I replied. It felt like, for the first time ever, Komachi was seeing me as I was. No smoke or mirrors; gone were the half-truths and white lies.
"What are you going to do now?" Komachi asked. My vague answer not providing her with much insight.
"The same things that I've been doing, but differently this time. I'm going to go to school and talk with Yukinoshita and Yui. I'm going to tell them the truth about me. Then I'll see where we stand with each other. After that, I want to pass high school, see you get into Shuuchin, and I think I want to travel, maybe, see some more of the world." I replied, smiling softly. Komachi's expression was happy as well.
"I'm so glad that you're happy." She turned to leave before stopping. "I have to ask since you're being honest now. Remember that one time I was in your room and saw a Pringles can? Why did you freak out when I tried to pick it up?"
I coughed embarrassedly before looking away. "I was using it to masturbate."
She blushed and frowned slightly. Her expression was pensive. "How does that feel good? It's just cardboard."
"Well, what you do is put a sponge into it and then use disposable latex gloves. Then you squirt warm lotion into it, so it feels like a - well, you know - when you're humping it." I said, scratching my chin.
Komachi stared down at her feet like they held the answers to life's questions. "Thanks for the detailed information. I'm gonna head upstairs and not think about what you just told me." I shrugged. After all, she was the one who asked. "Thank you for everything."
I laughed and shooed her playfully. Declaring a moratorium on 'sentimentality, at least for the moment.
Once she left the living room, I pulled my phone out and dialed Yui. "Hey, you asked for the truth, and I'll tell you guys everything. Do you have somewhere private we can meet?"
She chirped back. "Sure, my mom is out of town for a conference. Until Monday. We can all go back to my place on Saturday and talk in private."
"That's great. See you tomorrow." I answered, hanging up the phone soon thereafter.
A/N: For the reviewers who were complaining. He was meant to be in a negatively reinforced cycle; this iteration was the one where he broke out. I needed to get him to this point to drive forward the story's final act.
This was his planned metamorphosis. Call this chapter 177013 cause that's what it is. A goddamn 'Metamorphosis'. For anyone that gets that reference, who did her the dirtiest? I'd probably say the parents. That was really fucked up.
Also, 8man reacts this way because he rarely faces real adversity. He's a genius and has massive amounts of money. Before all of this, there were very few things he couldn't solve with ease.
EiNyx: you raise a valid point. That was the last 'repetition' of Hachiman's avoidant behavior. I guess I didn't communicate clearly that his character progression is about taking a stand. He doesn't value himself; hence he doesn't stand up for himself. He values his friends; therefore, he'll stand up for them without a second thought.
SilverZ-TenoriO: The story is tagged as dramatic. Also, this will be the last instance of this happening. The story trajectory just needed to reach this point. 8man has been wracked with guilt. Slowly but surely, he's working through his issues. They're different than in canon, but they're just as damaging. If you just want to see a successful 8man with no baggage, then this isn't the story. He has never been a character with nothing wrong with him.
Ami-Onigase: Okay, that's regretful, but I totally understand. If you're still reading, I'd love to know what aspect made you want to stop.
~/~
2 1/2 years ago …
I strode through the massive wooden gate of the compound. Being greeted by a tattooed bald man with arms bigger than my legs. He led me through the winding hallways and past similarly dark-suited men, also tattooed and hulking.
Finally, he led me into a rather simple room. Tatami mats on the floor and sliding panel doors. Turning to face me was one, Daisuke Ryuju, the current leader of the Ryujuugami Yakuza. I greeted him with a bow which he returned to the exact same depth.
"Sit, my boy, please." He gestured to the short table with mats surrounding it. "Hibiki." He looked at the large man hovering at the threshold of the room. "Please bring my guest here some refreshments."
The man hurried off, and I knelt on one of the mats. "I'm, of course, happy to assist. But winning custody shouldn't be that complicated. Your daughter currently resides with you, I'll take witness testimonies that say you were her primary caretaker, and I've already gotten the trial delayed so that she'll be fifteen when comes next month. The courts will have to give her opinion more weight, and she's clearly expressed that she wants to stay with you."
He sighed and scratched the stubble on his chin. "I know, but her asshole lawyer brought up my criminal record. I've spent almost ten years behind bars in my younger years. The judge won't look favorably upon that."
I sighed. "We've been over this; you have a strong case. The community leaders will vouch for you as a man of integrity. You're going to win custody. I won't tell you now to worry. Most parents do that naturally." Something bitter pulsed in my chest. "But I will ask you to trust me; there's a reason why I've been called the best legal consultant. You're in good hands. The philosophy of Japanese custody law is that the less change in the child's environment, the better. You provided your daughter a good home, and it shows."
The reason that custody battles were such high-stakes matches here was that joint custody didn't exist in Japan. So either he got to keep his daughter or lost all legal claims as her parent. I took a breath before continuing. "I've warned all your witnesses of potential questions your ex-wife's attorney might use and how to avoid them. You'll get to keep your daughter because you're a good father."
Ryuju looked at me and laughed. It was loud and gut-busting; it took almost a minute to stop. He paused. "Hibiki. Hibiki, get in here." He yelled. For a moment, I tensed, worried that I had offended him, and was about to be dropped surreptitiously into the bay with cement shoes.
The large man rushed through the doorway and glowered at me. "Yeah, Boss. Did this joker disrespect you?"
Ryuju glared at him. "No, dumbass, if he'd offended me, I would've taken care of him myself. Get the good stuff from my cellar. This lad here is a fine gentleman and will be drinking with me tonight."
I smiled, much more relaxed. "Only if you have someone drive me home. I'm not going to bike drunk."
