1.1 Hiratsuka Shizuka is Not Quiet

Senpai's eyebrow twitched as she looked at me, and I studiously maintained my silence, despite my mounting fear.

"Just what in the hell is this?" she asked, sitting down and resting her head in her hand. Sensei's jacket was hanging off the back. For a moment, I saw in my head, clearly, an image of her 10 years in the future. It was very fitting, almost natural, even. She had filled out even more, and was wearing well fitted black slacks and a white shirt. It didn't seem like enough, so I pictured a vest, and maybe a long white lab coat as well, and I was struck by how right the mental image seemed.

A sudden pain in my head drew me from my thoughts. Senpai was standing again, glaring at me and tugging on my ahoge.

"At least have the consideration to listen to someone when they're speaking to you!" she said, exasperation coloring her voice.

"You would make a great teacher," I said, carried by that lingering mental image that shined behind my eyes. Senpai blinked and flushed.

"Eh, w-wha?" she stuttered and looked away. "Don't say random things, I won't get sidetracked!"

I flushed, suddenly aware of what I'd said.

"I just thought that you have the temperament to be a great teacher. Great Teacher Hiratsuka, even."

"Awha?! D-d-don't just keep saying things!" Senpai shuffled back, her face red and her eyes glazed and almost swirling. There was something undeniably cute about her here, that made me want to keep teasing her; maybe it was due to the fact that she was normally so composed and confident, and seeing her like this made her seem less intimidating? She calmed, her eyes on the ground and her hands held in front of her by her chest. "D… do you really think so?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't," I answered blandly. She smiled, soft and tender, and I felt my heart start to beat faster, a sudden embarrassment and breathlessness coming over me.

"Ano, Hikigaya-kun," she breathed, softly. I noticed that the sunlight pouring in through the window was a warm orange, making the teacher's staff room softer somehow.

"Y-yeah?" I answered. Was this it? Was this where my youth began?

"Do you really think that would distract me from this wreck of an essay?!" Senpai lifted her head and glared at me, lifting the slightly crumpled sheet of paper into the air. "I should have expected such underhanded tactics, and my heart did skip a beat, but you won't change the conversation that easily!"

I take it back. Senpai wasn't cute at all, though I didn't mind this animated version of her either, even if it did make me exhausted just being around her.

"Why were you reading it anyway?" I asked. "Do you just go through Sensei's things as if it were routine or expected? My privacy is in shambles, I want a lawyer!"

Senpai sniffed, though she was smiling. It wasn't a smile of enjoyment, either, but one with edges, like her teeth were sharpened and imparted that bite to her lips.

"Denied!" she said, triumphantly. "Sensei gave it to me himself. He wanted to ask my opinion on it, since the student guidance counselor keeps giving your assignments to him. Apparently Honjo-sensei has been taking a lot of pain medications recently due to persistent migraines. From reading your work."

Oi, you didn't need to add that part. It's not like my assignments are bad. In fact, I scored third in Japanese, so they must be very good. So good that it makes Honjo-sensei feel inadequate and pushes him to psychosomatic headaches. Yeah, I like the sound of that.

"Since Sekine-sensei seems to be the only one who can at least stand your presence, it seems Honjo-sensei leaves everything to do with you to him."

"Where is Sensei, by the way?"

"He's talking with another student," she answered. Oh, rather short response now, how interesting. Or not. It's all too much to take in, and has nothing to do with me now, anyway.

"Well, I'll just rewrite the essay, then," I said with a sigh.

"After all your antics throughout the last year, do you think that'll really be enough?" Senpai returned, looking at me with an expression that somehow exuded disbelief, disgust, and worry all at once. "Sooner or later, this attitude will get the wrong sort of attention, and it'll cause you problems, socially and professionally. You'll never be able to fit in or even be an outlying member of society. Even Sensei acknowledges this fact."

I grimaced, but before I could respond, the door to the staff room opened, letting in Sensei, who looked tired and rumpled as he normally did. He wore a suit and cut a figure in it, despite being only of average height, with an actual beard and dark brown curly hair cut short and was messily arranged. His tie was worn loose and his vest was partially unbuttoned. He carried a feeling of always thinking about something that made him seem absent-minded, and had an adult maturity despite this, making him intimidating to approach.

"Ah, you're here, Hikigaya," he said. "And Hiratsuka, too. Great, now I don't have to search everyone out."

Senpai moved aside, and Sensei sat down, letting out a hum of pleasure. He glanced down at my essay, and smiled, shaking his head.

"This was one of the funniest things I have ever read in my entire life," he said, looking at me. "I laughed. Not the gust of air through your nose, or a little chuckle or a giggle; I actually laughed."

I blinked and looked to the side.

"I… I'm glad someone actually saw it the way I meant it," I muttered, digging my hands into my pockets.

Sensei snorted and leaned back in his seat, taking off his glasses and wiping them off with a small bit of tissue from his pocket.

"I laughed because you wrote this seriously," he said. "What was the assignment?"

"Write about your high school life," I answered.

"And since you don't have one, you came up with this, eh?"

Sensei! How cruel! At least try to sugar-coat it, or something!

"Don't talk like you have a life either, Sensei," I shot back. "I'd say I'm worried, but at your age, I'd probably say pity and despair are the words."

He smiled, putting his glasses back on.

"So you have time to get a life, is that what you're insinuating? You're young, and there's time. How long are you going to wait? Until college or university? How are you going to connect with people when you're thinking these sorts of things about them?"

I winced, but didn't answer.

Sensei sighed and scratched his beard.

"I understand where you're coming from, Hikigaya," he said absently, looking out the window. Despite not saying it, I disbelieved the man. He was handsome and didn't seem to have any trouble talking to others. He had it easy. "It's difficult to understand and connect with people when all you seem to get is disgust and comments about your eyes."

Sensei. No one had said anything about my eyes in this whole conversation until you brought it up.

"Regardless, you will need to deal with people in the future, even if it's only professionally. I will not defend society, nor will I try to change your mind, or make you a better person. That's not my job. My job is to prepare you for employment or further schooling, loosely, and strictly I am only supposed to teach you English. Social interaction is a part of that, and from everything I've read in your papers and assignments, you refuse to entertain the thought that you will need those skills someday. Such thinking will only cause you more problems."

"There's no point," I said. "People can tell I'm rotten, and they're right."

"That sounds like an issue you need to overcome, not a reason to not even try," he responded.

This conversation I am having with Sensei is merely highlighting why he is the only teacher I respect out of the entire faculty. It may have been due to extenuating circumstances, but he was the only one to talk to me out of the entire population of Soubu High School and to truly approach me with my best interests in mind, without making me feel like he was doing me a favor. He was acting in his role as a teacher, no more, no less.

"Sensei, Hikigaya needs more than that!" Senpai said, her back straight and her eyes focused on him. "We can't tolerate that creepy personality. Doing the bare minimum, and being proud of it, really puts people off!"

Hiratsuka-senpai, on the other hand, is a girl in need of an ideal. Her given name is Shizuka, but she is anything but quiet. She is also quite beautiful. Her pretty face which frames her mouth just right, her lustrous black hair falling to just beneath her shoulder blades, and her slender yet fit body which supports what one can only call 'the mountains and the valley'; all of it weaves together to form an ideal, almost fantastical vision to the eyes of high school boys.

Unfortunately, her personality gets in the way. Senpai is, without a doubt, far too aggressive and forward about the things which she enjoys, which mainly consists of shounen manga and anime. She is needy and annoying, and persistent when she does not immediately get an answer. It is frankly quite intimidating to boys, and if it continues, she'll remain single into adulthood.

I feel a stab of pity and idly entertain the thought of confessing to her, but I know I'll get rejected. Maybe in the future, she'll get desperate enough to settle for me, or someone like me. Someone, take her, or I'll have to.

"Hikigaya, you're looking particularly rotten right now," she said, her eyes focused on me. I jerk back to full attentiveness and look away.

Sekine-sensei smirks and shakes his head slightly at the byplay.

"So, while I don't completely agree with Hiratsuka, I do agree that you do need to get out of your shell a bit. At the very least, if you can't change the way you see people, you need to learn how to interact professionally," Sensei brought the conversation back to the point with a surprising lack of decorum. His amusement is gone, replaced by his ever so friendly seriousness. Gah, Sensei, stop. If I were a girl, my heart would be racing at receiving such a serious and mature look. Even though I'm not a girl, the expression makes me turn my face away slightly.

"So, it's been decided that you will join a club," he continued, and I detect the slightest bit of sympathy in his voice. I'm glad for that, Sensei. Truly.

"Rejected," I immediately retort. I cross my arms into an 'x' in front of me. I have to get this unequivocal denial out before the conversation can continue. "I'm already in a club."

Senpai rolled her eyes and Sensei raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Which one?" He asked, but his tone told me he knew my answer already. There was a slight hint of a smile, barely hidden by his beard.

"The Going Home Club. I've never once missed a meeting, and I can't sacrifice my perfect club attendance record."

Sensei snorted and hid his smile behind a hand, covering the action with an idle scratch at the facial hair at the corner of his mouth.

Senpai rubbed her temple and grit her teeth.

"Sensei! Stop rewarding this sort of behavior! He's not trying to better himself at all!" She pointed at the man and nearly shouted in consternation. It looked like her patience was almost completely gone.

"Hiratsuka, I'd like for you to answer a question," Sensei responded, surprising her. She nodded, once more focused on him. "You join a club. But no one wants you there. No one talks to you. No one tells you about activities, no one makes an effort to welcome you, and some go so far as to ask you to sit off to the side so you don't get in the way."

Hey now, Sensei. You're describing middle school. Were you stalking me? Or is this the power of an adult? His Sekine Skill: Extrapolation is far too powerful.

"You just tell yourself it's a matter of time until someone can breach the barrier. As long as you tough it out, as long as you keep going, you are bound to get through to someone. And then, finally, one day, the club president pulls you to the side. The president tells you, with an awkward sad smile, that unfortunately the rest of the club has complained about you, and said that people are so uncomfortable that they're deciding not to come to club at all. So, in the best interests of the club and by the way I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you like this, please leave, and don't come back. Why would you ever want to try to go to a club again?"

I refuse to look at either of them. His example stopped resembling my actual reality early on, at the point where the club president pulled 'Hiratsuka' to the side and asked her to leave, to be exact. Being at the fringes of the club, I heard them whispering and muttering about how I kept coming in, and should get a clue, and one of the members almost begged the president to convince me to leave. In the president's favor, he tried to argue back, saying that doing such a thing was terrible and I wasn't doing anything or talking to anyone anyway, so how was I bothering anyone? He was a good guy. He didn't pretend to like me, but he was one of those people with an ingrained sense of fairness and justice. Then came the threat of a club walk out, and he caved. I don't blame him, and the other members didn't either. It was something all other parties could say was a good point for him. I stopped showing up the next day. The president looked distraught, but seemed to say thank you with his expression as he realized that I'd gotten a clue and stopped coming. I didn't respond, with either an expression, or with a word. I just looked at him like I didn't recognize him, and kept walking home.

Senpai looked pale and drawn by the time Sensei finished his 'question'. I could see her out of the corner of my eye. She was muttering to herself incoherently, with words like 'love', 'bastard', 'old hag', and 'christmas cake' slipping into coherency before drifting off to shuddering whispers. It was scary, to be honest. I wonder what fear Sensei had dredged up?

"Things can always get better. You have to keep trying," she said, her expression something that I can't describe.

Sensei smiled at her. "You're a good kid, Hiratsuka. But Hikigaya is no Amuro, and people's dislike of him is no Char."

Sensei, your references are so old. Stop. Stop now. Wait, I think these references are even older than you! Sensei, what's with this? Are you one of those media snobs, who only likes the 'classics'?

Senpai frowned and shook her head and lifted a fist, which she rested on her chest.

"I can't just admit defeat like that! Sensei, when things get difficult, you can't give up. I'd keep going until I found a way, until I found someone!"

Both Sensei and I looked at Senpai with wonder, though his was much more muted. Senpai's eyes were unfocused, looking at something only she could see. She was probably thinking that she looked like the protagonist of a manga. She looked over at us and flushed a bit.

"W-what are you looking at?" she asked, her confidence evaporating.

"I hope that determined part of you never changes, Hiratsuka," Sensei said. She flushed deeper and looked at her knees, before nodding very slightly.

Once again, Sensei brought the conversation back to the point.

"Hikigaya, I've spoken with a club president, who has agreed to take you on. This will be counted as classwork, and will count towards your final grade both this year and next year, if you continue on. I will be more lenient with you about classwork, as long as you continue to apply yourself to the material and do well on tests and exams. I understand you don't want to do this, and honestly, I can't make you. But I want to ask you to do this, because I feel that without something to push you, things will not change, and you will continue on as you have, resenting others and the world for so easily having something which is so difficult for you."

I looked at Sensei with no small amount of wonder.

"So, for me, if you have any goodwill for me at all, I want you to try this club for one month. If you decide to leave after that month, I will give you credit for it. If you decide to leave before that time has passed, then you will receive no credit."

"...what club is it?" I asked. Sensei hummed.

"That is better explained by the president and the other club member. Come with us, and meet them, and then tell me if you agree. The president wishes to explain the club herself."

I sighed and looked at Sensei, and Senpai. Sensei looked stoic and reserved, but there was a kind of genuine kindness in his expression. We had already wasted so much time in this conversation, and there wasn't much of a downside to this deal. If I joined, I wouldn't have to work so much in English, which I would admit to being one of the subjects I had a hard time in. All I had to do was join a club, and I wasn't being forced into the matter, either. I could stop in with him, take one look, and say no, and he'd promised to abide by that decision.

Damn it, Sensei. Why couldn't you be my age? I'd ask you to be my friend, and while I don't think you'd say yes, I get the feeling you wouldn't say no, either.

"Please, Hikigaya-kun," Senpai said, looking at me with hope in her eyes. Stop that, woman! I might get the wrong idea, confess, and get rejected immediately! Then where would I be?

"...fine. But I make no promises about joining this club. I'll stop by and hear what the president has to say."

1.2 Sekine-sensei is Intimidating, as Usual.

Being who I am has made me aware and sensitive to people who talk to me in an attempt to try and "fix" me. What they want isn't to make me a better person, but to selfishly mold me into someone they can point to and say, 'aren't I such a good person, that I'm helping this poor rotten fish-eyed boy?' They want to feel good about themselves, rather than actually help me. I can tell by the looks of relief I see when I rebuff them. They can tell themselves they tried. And for those who do wish to help me simply because they feel the need, I save them from emotional distress and the trauma of having to bear with my personality. Go and help someone who can actually be helped, normies.

The problem isn't that I dislike having people help me, but more that the reason they're helping me is for themselves, either selfishly or unselfishly. I can't accept such half-hearted things. I feel worse than I normally do, as if all my skills and the growing I've done without friends or friendly acquaintances means nothing, that the only way I have of overcoming the obstacles in myself are the very fakers, with their superficial and meaningless relationships that they fool themselves into believing are worth something, that made me this way in the first place. Well, them and my eyes, of course. My rotten personality is my fault, regardless of who or what started that change.

Sensei is helping me out of the goodness of his heart. I do believe that. No one would go so far for someone they hardly know unless they were a good person. But Sensei isn't the sort of person to save someone from themselves. I've seen it in classes, and in school. When someone turns in an assignment late, he docks their points, no matter their excuse. And then he finds out why they turned it in late and works with them to keep that from happening in the future, and will allow them to make up with another assignment. It's why he gives us a list of essays and assignments at the beginning of the year, and tells us that some are due by mid-terms, and others are due by end of year. He does what he can to help us, but at the end of the day he only shows us what we can do, what we have to do. He doesn't do more than he can. The rest, as he says often enough for it to be something of a catchphrase, is up to us.

He's not a very popular teacher, though he isn't disliked. Quite a few girls have crushes on him, though not one of them has the courage to do something with those feelings. He is unquestionably, undoubtedly, a teacher. When students try to act friendly with him, he tolerates it to a point, but makes sure that everyone understands that he is not at school to prey on his students, or to start a relationship with a cute co-worker, or to be anyone's friend. He is there to teach, and that is all he tries to do. He's young enough to be seen as a person of admiration without being weird, and just old enough to be unattainable. He occupies that space naturally, without trying, without being fake or affected.

I admire that, and see him as a role model in lonerness. It would be much more difficult for me, being who and what I am, but the principle remains. Sekine-sensei is intimidating. I'm just creepy.

I noticed we were in an older building, one much less frequently traveled. There were desks and chairs along the wall in the hallway, and the doors looked like they hadn't been painted or cared for in a while. Sensei sneezed and muttered to himself. Sensei walked with a long stride, it was almost ridiculous. For such a short guy, why do you take such long steps? Hiratsuka-senpai and I don't need to jog to keep up, but we are both breathing a little heavier than we normally would. Sensei's breathing was deep and even; for such a heavy smoker, how does he have this ability?

He walked with his back straight and excellent posture. His hands were jammed in his pockets, and he was saying not a word to Senpai or myself. This was Sensei's Skill: Sekine Stride.

His entire bearing screamed of being busy and on the way to an important meeting, and that he should not be interrupted. Barely anyone bothered him while he was walking in school, though his Skill wasn't on par with Stealth Hikki. He was noticeable and handsome, and there was only so much one could do in the face of a girl with a crush.

For as long as I'd been aware of Sensei, he'd been like that. He watched and observed people, and had the experience to make deductions and know things about people that I considered almost Esper quality. That also contributed to his nonthreatening, but intimidating persona. I'd known Sensei for just over a year at this point. He'd taught me in my first year, and had the honor of being the only person outside my family to visit me in the hospital after the accident. He brought me my schoolwork, and stayed on to help me through what he could, even though he could only devote so much time to me. He still had classes and other things to do as well, though he never told me about them. I very much appreciated the fact that he came, even though I despised that he came to give me work.

He visited me about as much as my family did, in fact. Perhaps more. Which is a sad thing, I suppose, though I could understand. Just because I'd been injured didn't stop the bills from coming in, or give them time off. Or maybe it did? I'm not sure. If they did get it, they used it to spend time with my little sister, which I could hardly fault them for. Though after their first visit, they took her out to eat. Why not get something and eat with me? I mean, I understand, she deserved the attention and was far more distressed about the situation than I was, but still, it stung a bit to hear three days later from her own mouth how they'd treated her to a restaurant and take out after they'd visited me.

I have feelings too, y'know? One of those feelings being hunger. Couldn't they have at least offered to get me something? Hospital food was good enough, especially for being free, but one could never say that it was particularly enjoyable. My little sister could describe food with the best of them. I was getting hungry just remembering how she described the broth and the egg. Maybe I'll get ramen on the way home today.

Sensei and Senpai stopped in front of a normal looking door. Senpai made to open it, her hand almost to the handle, when Sensei knocked.

"Come in," a voice, muffled but still clear, answered. Sensei slid open the door, and stepped inside. Senpai followed him in, and I went in after. We fanned out to either side of him.

It was like a scene out of a light novel (lol). The window was open, and a breeze blew in, making the curtains flare and flutter. A girl sat at a table, a book in her lap and a tea service set nearby and still steaming. The breeze caught her long black hair and it swayed in time with the curtains.

She was, in a word, beautiful. Like a painting, or a photograph. Her long legs, her pale skin, and her symmetrical, regular facial features almost took my breath away. Even her clothing seemed to be artfully constructed or displayed. Her blazer and shirt were clean and bright, with not a wrinkle or button out of place. Her skirt accentuated her legs, which were crossed (and she had opted for stockings, how lewd), while also revealing nothing untoward.

She looked up from her book at us, and her expression was one could call peaceful, while still stern and maybe a bit icy.

"Excuse the intrusion," Sensei said politely.

"You already warned me that you were coming," the girl responded. "Though I suppose you do have to make up for Hiratsuka-san's horrifying lack of decorum. In that case, thank you, Sensei."

Senpai made a sound of offense, though she didn't look too angry.

"You always never answer!" she said. The girl glanced over at her, her eyebrows raised in question, a polite and distant smile on her face.

"You never wait for me to answer," the girl responded. She looked over at me, and her smile disappeared as if a sudden flurry of snow had covered it.

"Sensei, Hiratsuka-san, I feel unsafe with the way this boy is looking at me." She leaned back, and crossed her arms over her modest bust. "His eyes are scaring me."

Oi. Why is it always the eyes that are the first things people notice about me? Are they that bad? Would it be an improvement if I had them removed and went through life blind?

"I've already spoken with you about him, Yukinoshita," Sensei said. "And I wouldn't bring him in if he were dangerous like that. Trust me, at least."

"Ah, so this is Hikigaya-san. Your appearance is unsurprising given what I was able to surmise of your character from your essay. That is to say, you are nearly intolerable."

I glared at Sensei, who just raised his eyebrow and stoically endured my ire. At this point, you should probably just publish my essay, Sensei. Put it on the bulletin boards of the school, though you'll want to leave my picture out of it. People won't read it on principle then.

"You don't even know me," I shot back. "Is it customary for you to insult someone before you even introduce yourself?"

"Ah, so it seems that your dead eyes distracted me from social niceties. I apologize."

Why does it feel like you're not apologizing? Wait, you're blaming me for making you rude? Who are you, me? Hah, I crack myself up sometimes, even if I usually feel worse as I'm the butt of those jokes too.

"My name is Yukinoshita Yukino. You may call me Yukinoshita-san. I suppose today is your lucky day, considering with your demeanor and appearance most females, much less girls of my standard of beauty, wouldn't give you even this much. Please take this memory and cherish it."

What is up with this bitch? Did her superficial looks somehow make it into her brain?

"I would, if you hadn't started speaking," I answered. "You almost had me charmed, and then you opened your mouth. Believe me, I'd much rather remove this memory than even dwell on it for a moment. Do you put so much importance on your good looks? It takes more than that to be an attractive person, you know."

"You're being particularly cutting, Yukinoshita," Sensei hummed, cutting into our 'conversation'. "Did the essay put you off that much?"

The girl, Yukinoshita, flushed slightly and turned her face toward the windows. I must have made her incredibly angry. The thought that I'd gotten under her skin so quickly made me feel a little smug, I'll admit. Yukinoshita said nothing for a moment, but seemed to be gathering her thoughts.

"I will ask you to apologize to Hikigaya," Sensei said seriously. We all looked at him in shock. "Even if you hate him, saying such things without provocation is beneath you."

Was Sensei sticking up for me?

"It's fine, Sensei," I said. "It doesn't bother me, and it's not the worst anyone's thrown at me, either."

"No," Yukinoshita said, and it seemed like it was difficult for her to get the words out. "He is right. I should have waited for you to display your rotten personality before saying what I felt. I apologize, Hikigaya-san. I will endeavor to not repeat such an error."

Why does this not feel like an apology?

"Yukinoshita," Sensei said again, sighing the name out as if just saying it was making him tired. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"I suppose you're the president of this club?" I asked, cutting in. If I had to spend any more time with this girl, I was probably going to say more things to display my rotten personality. "I told Sensei I would speak with the club president about joining this club…"

Yukinoshita looked at me with surprise. "You want to join?"

"Not in the least. Especially if it means spending more time with a frigid, superficial woman like you. What would you know? I suppose someone like you has never suffered or struggled a day in your life. But I respect Sensei, and I'll follow through."

She glared at me, and I almost broke and apologized right there. How terrifying! Somehow, I managed to hold back the words in my throat, and kept my knees from buckling.

"Children, shut up," Sensei said, all patience gone from his voice. Both Yukinoshita and I jerked and looked away from each other. When had I met her eyes? I hadn't noticed through the wave of annoyance and anger. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. Both of you refuse to even entertain the notion that other people deserve the least courtesy unless they earn it. This is foolish at best, and it's annoying me. Such arbitrary standards, I can't stand it. If you want to even function the least bit in society, you're going to have to interact with people who you dislike, and who dislike you. Do you understand? If someone doesn't conform to your standards, you may dislike them, you may keep your interactions short and then never meet them again, but, and I cannot stress this enough, you may not treat them like they are not a person."

Sensei's voice was tight and filled with what I could only imagine as steel. I glanced over, and Sensei caught my eye. His eyes were dark and forbidding behind the lenses of his glasses, and his mouth had thinned into a severe, small line.

"Answer me. Do you understand?"

"Y-y-yes. Sensei. I understand," I said, my voice small and a cold sweat on my neck.

"Yukinoshita. Do you understand?"

Yukinoshita looked distressed, and angry, and frustrated. It was a very drastic change from the icy exterior she'd projected before. She seemed more relatable now, as if she were a person and not a statue.

"Sensei, I…" she almost whimpered.

"No. I don't care, Yukinoshita. And I can assure you that most of the people you will meet in the world won't give the slightest care to the matter either, no matter how large or small that world ends up being. I am not your parent, and I don't want to be. But in my presence, and in this club, which I am sponsoring, you will give each other the respect and politeness another human being deserves, unless you are provoked beyond reason. Do you understand?"

She nodded, jerkily, her eyes shining with tears.

Sensei let out another long breath, swearing in English under his breath. I only understood that much because of the pervasiveness of the word 'fuck' throughout the world.

"Hiratuska, handle this. I'm going for a smoke and will be back soon."

"Ah, yes, of course!" Senpai said. She looked pale and shaken herself, despite having only been ancillary to my and Yukinoshita's dressing down.

"Hikigaya. Give this a shot," Sensei said as he opened the door.

"No promises, Sensei," I answered.

"...that's about the best I can ask for, huh?" Sekine-sensei hummed as he stepped out into the hallway. I barely caught his muttered last word as the door shut: "Pfft, children."

1.3 Yukinoshita Yukino is Not Cute

Silence permeated the room, and we were all left looking at each other awkwardly.

"Wah, Sensei can be so scary…" Senpai breathed, collapsing into another chair and melting into it in a decidedly unfeminine manner. She glanced over at me, and gestured to the other side of the table. "Go ahead and sit down please, Hikigaya-kun."

I pulled a chair from the many stored near the back of the room and set it down on the far side of the table from Yukinoshita, who for her part looked at her knees with an expression of frustration and embarrassment.

"I suppose we should actually get around to the point of bringing you in here," Senpai hummed, pulling herself into a more upright sitting position.

"I'm assuming Yukinoshita is the club president," I said. "What is this club anyway? It's strange enough that there's a club here, and with only one member? Don't clubs need at least five members to be recognized by the school?"

"You'd be right, but the Principal likes Sekine-sensei, and gave him leeway to sponsor the club with fewer members. I'm not sure what their deal entailed, but it works out. And there's more than one member, there's two."

"And I am not the president."

Senpai and Yukinoshita spoke one after another, their words falling over each other like rain drops.

"So who's the president?" I asked. Senpai grinned and sat even straighter.

"Hiratsuka-san, of course," Yukinoshita said. I looked at Senpai in confusion.

"I didn't know you were in a club, Senpai," I said.

"There are many things you don't know about me, Hikigaya-kun," she said, smiling mysteriously and smugly. I bet she felt like a lady and was enjoying herself. She settled down and shrugged. "We don't talk much outside of school, after all."

I nodded.

"You two know each other?" Yukinoshita asked, looking at me and then at Senpai.

"She was my tutor last year," I answered. "I ended up missing quite a bit of the beginning of the first month, and Sensei helped me through while I was out of school. When I returned, he assigned Senpai to tutor me and help me through anything he couldn't. I wouldn't say we know each other, though. More like we're acquaintances. We didn't talk about anything but schoolwork, after all."

Senpai nodded.

"That sounds about right," she said. "Anyway, I welcome you to the Service Club, Hikigaya-kun."

"Service Club?" I rolled the name around in my head for a moment. "It sounds… lewd."

Senpai sputtered and waved her hands in front of her, while Yukinoshita looked disgusted.

"Please remove any such thoughts from your rotten mind, Hikigaya-san," the younger girl said. "We are the Service Club because we render aid and support to our fellow students in matters they are not equipped to handle. But we do not do things for those who request our help. We help them help themselves. Is it not obvious that those who can help those who cannot better themselves? The superior students, the more observant, the ones who have something to give, it is their duty to extend their hand to their less fortunate peers, the dregs, the hopelessly awkward, and show them the way to lift themselves out of their pitiable circumstances. Is that not obvious?"

Yukinoshita became steadily more impassioned as she spoke, her back straightening, and her eyes clear and focused on some imaginary thing in the distance. As she finished she turned to look at me, and smiled beatifically. With the setting sun behind her, casting a warm orange light into the club room, I was once more astonished to find that this was a real girl, and not some manifestation of a light novel heroine. What was it that had girls making light novel speeches today? Did she think that sounded as good out loud as it did in her head? And why did I get the feeling that those unflattering descriptions were targeted at me?

"Well, she's basically right, though I wouldn't have put it that way," Senpai hummed, crossing her arms over her chest and nodding emphatically. "I would have said something like we're the supporting characters in our fellow students' training montages! We show our peers the way, and cheer them on as they overcome the challenges that are hindering their growth! Cha! Now I'm pumped up!"

Senpai, you read too much shounen. Or rather, you're allowing that shounen-esque thinking to infect your real life. It's actually kind of cute, in a way, but it's incredibly awkward too. Real life isn't a manga, or a light novel, where people get happy endings and that's it. Real life has this annoying habit of continuing on, and showing you that happy endings are just a prelude to more struggle and effort. There's days after the endings, thus negating the endings in the first place, just an ongoing struggle and effort for the reward of more effort and struggle. And that's if you're lucky enough to get a happy ending in the first place.

For people like me, who don't get much if any happiness in life at all, what's the point of struggle and effort? You push through the trauma and embarrassment only to find that you grew but carried it all with you anyway. It's just a pile of cringe inducing memories and painful awkwardness as you can't relate to other people. There's no point if there's no reward. Why even try to play the game if the rules aren't meant for you in the first place?

It's better to just not play at all. If that offends those filthy normies and their happy, superficial lives and nonsensical, fickle relationships, even better. At least then they'll be aware that their happiness isn't some normal thing, that life isn't being fair to them, but that they're in fact lucky and that happiness is ephemeral and based on nothing.

"As the president of the Service Club, I'd like for you to join," Senpai said. "I feel like you could learn something here, even if it's the bare minimum of what Sensei said: 'learning to interact with people you'd rather not'. That in itself would be a huge step forward."

"I have no problem with interacting with people," I responded. "And that's Sensei's goal, not yours. Your goal is something like, 'I'll fix his rotten personality, and he can continue on to do good things, and my effort will be worth it!' I'll pass. No thank you. I like the way I am, even if people think it's creepy and gross. I don't need to become 'better'. In fact, I think my way of thinking is superior. I see through the lies of society, the fake and superficial relationships and standards that constitute worthiness and value. I have no use for such things. People don't want to be better, they want to be comfortable and secure, even if that means they have to put on a mask and pretend to be something they're not so they can feel like they grasp that idealistic concept of 'happiness' that society dangles in front of us. I consider that disgusting. I'm fine the way I am."

Senpai looked as if my opinions surprised her, her demeanor screaming of being pushed off-center. With all the work she'd done with me and on my assignments over my first year, she should have realized this about me by now.

"Such a cowardly way of thinking," Yukinoshita snapped at me. "It infuriates me that you, who have given up, can think that you can lecture and complain about society. That you can blame society for your awkwardness and problems so you don't have to fix them, so you can be comfortable in your self assurance. You're just afraid. If you are so clear-sighted, fix what is wrong! I cannot stand such half-hearted and cowardly principles. It is true that people are hurtful and prefer comfort over truth and the satisfaction of becoming better. That's why I'll fix society, one person at a time. I will show them the error of their ways."

Her words were bombs that tore apart the foundations of my fortress of opinions. I was smugly ensconced in my knowledge, and Yukinoshita's targeted strikes at my own internal misgivings made me mentally run and hide for cover. Yuki-bombers continued to fly high overhead, their droning engines making me quake with fear and dread. And then she tacked on the words at the end, and my mental fortitude peeked out from what feeble cover it had found, and saw that the bombers were flying off into the distance, bombing some deserted country with no one living in it.

Senpai watched us, her eyes bouncing back and forth.

"How about this! A challenge!" she said brightly, standing up and facing us. "We have two modes of thought, here, and there's only one way to prove who is right! A battle!"

Senpai's eyes shined with excitement and passion. If only it wasn't this childish way of thinking that made her this way, I'd find it incredibly attractive.

I glanced over at Yukinoshita, who was looking at Senpai with an expression of long-suffering exasperation.

"And, of course, there has to be a prize! And there can be only one prize worth the effort of such a battle! The loser will have to do anything the winner wants!"

My eyes glazed over at the implications of Senpai's statement. What are you doing, Senpai? Is there a brain between your ears, or is it just reruns of a certain shinobi, or a shinigami, or whatever? As if Yukinoshita would submit to such a condition! If I'm right, she'd immediately think of me thinking lewd things about her, like wearing a skimpy maid outfit and calling me master, and while she's right, I can't give her the satisfaction!

"Rejected," Yukinoshita said immediately. "As if I would agree to such a condition considering the cretin-like thoughts of the thing over there."

Thing? What about Sensei's stipulation, Yukinoshita? Have you forgotten that, already? Fufufu, giving me such an open avenue of attack, you should have known better!

"Hoh? I didn't say anything, Yukinoshita-san. If you were afraid of such things, it's because you thought of them yourself first. I wonder what it was that immediately caused you to blush like that? How lewd of you. And I'm not a thing."

"It hardly took much observation to see the play of disgusting thoughts across your expression, Hikipervert-san. With a girl of my objective beauty, of course you'd immediately stoop to such indecent and perverted thoughts. It wouldn't be the first time I had been subjected to such attention, after all. In fact, as many times as I've received such propositions, I've come to expect it."

I hadn't thought of that, and I should have. Of course a girl of Yukinoshita's stature and appearance would attract a lot of attention, both good and bad. Pubescent boys being pubescent boys, of course their thoughts would go down the well worn path of lewdness and debauchery. I would know, being a pubescent boy myself. I simply am aware of my limitations and the highly unlikely chance that I would ever have someone willing to indulge that urge and desire. I'm not at the point where I feel like the only way I'll ever know the embrace of a woman is through paying a prostitute, yet. Besides, I'm still underage.

"Oh, you have my sympathy. How difficult it must be for you, being beautiful and desired. Dealing with the childish urges and desires of brainless boys must have grated on you. I can't empathize with you, however. I'd be surprised if anyone had ever been attracted to me, much less to the point that they'd approach me over it."

"You'd be surprised, Hikigaya-kun," Senpai said, her voice much more serious. She was smiling, having watched us banter back and forth.

Eh? What would I be surprised about? That someone would be attracted to me? Are… are you saying…

"Girls can be evil when they're jealous."

Pfft, yeah, no. I expected that answer.

I glanced over to Yukinoshita, who was looking at Senpai with a surprising expression of gratitude. She glanced at me, and took a deep breath, and started to speak.

"When I was in elementary and middle school, I had my shoes stolen from my locker seventy-one times. Most of the time it was other girls. A few times it had been a boy, and the remaining tiny percentage was random animals, like dogs, when my locker was nearer to the ground. Even so, the locker would have to have been opened for such a thing to happen. I received one hundred and four letters. Seventy-two were love or confession letters. Twenty-nine were letters threatening or bullying me; often enough they were telling me to kill myself or 'go die', and just as often I was told to stay away from a certain boy."

"What were the last two?"

"Hm?"

"Your numbers add up to one hundred and two letters. You said there were one hundred and four."

"Oh, one of them was a notice from my club that activities were being rescheduled, and that they had no other way of contacting me. The last was a mistake. A girl had put her love letter to a boy into mine by mistake. It started around the time I turned twelve. Boys started noticing me, and the girls became jealous at all the attention. I was ostracized by the other girls, and I ended up needing to take my shoes and recorder home with me to keep them from being tampered with or stolen. That was elementary. Things became worse in middle school. Rumours abounded of me performing lewd acts with teachers for better marks. I was accused of prositution and cheating, and not all of the accusations came from girls. Many came from boys who were hurt when I rejected them. Some of the confessions were from boys who believed the rumours and thought they could easily persuade me into sex."

Senpai looked drawn and sad, but not surprised. I listened to this stream of abuses and wondered to myself how two people from such different circumstances could have such similar events occur. Mine, of course, weren't due to jealousy or wounded pride, but simply from disgust and a collective sense of reminding me of my place in the hierarchy. Her words brought back memories of shit in my shoe locker; my recorder tossed into a toilet; of girls approaching me and confessing because they lost a game or a dare. Love letters I was only familiar with due to two solitary instances: I found one in my locker and seeing it wasn't addressed to me. A mistake almost identical to Yukinoshita's experience. The other one was in my locker, and further, addressed to me. I waited for the sender, only to find the next day that everyone was laughing because I had been seen. I kept it in my heart for a while, figuring that the girl had been simply too embarrassed that the secret was out, and found out later that a classmate of mine had been pressured into writing it by a pair of particularly cruel boys who wanted to see if I believed I could actually receive one. They were revenging themselves after I had cut them down during a class discussion on history. They were to defend one side of the argument, and I the other. I demolished them, and the teacher pulled me aside afterwards to berate me for being too mean.

I didn't share any of this with either Senpai or Yukinoshita. I'm sure Senpai had an inkling of my circumstances, and Sensei had probably guessed at much of it simply due to being Sensei and an Esper like that. Yukinoshita was simply showing me that I was wrong, and that someone like her could face struggles akin to mine. I wasn't so blind or stupid as to lie to myself and say that her own struggles weren't as bad as mine. I could admit I was wrong when faced with evidence. How should I respond, though? The club room was quiet, and I felt like I needed to say something.

How would Sekine-sensei respond?

"I'm sorry that happened to you," I said, finally. I decided to continue with words stolen directly from Sensei. "Children can be cruel."

I stopped myself there. Senpai and Yukinoshita looked at me with surprise. I had almost gone forward and asked if Yukinoshita would be my friend, but I was more than cognizant that she wasn't trying to reach out to me to make a connection, but to prove that my situation was not singular. She didn't even tear up or lose her reminiscent expression throughout. It still troubled her, no doubt, but she had grown from it.

Yukinoshita Yukino was not cute. When I realized she was an actual person, and not a mental caricature, she was actually and legitimately beautiful. It's too bad that I don't have a shot at anything approaching romance or friendship with her. I think it would probably be the closest thing to happiness that I'd ever experience. I'll settle for being friendly acquaintances.

"So, this challenge," I hummed, bringing the conversation back to the topic. "We obviously can't accept the loser submitting to the winner. I fear what humiliating things Yukinoshita would make me do."

"Ah, you already admit defeat?"

"No. More like I'm not nearly as competitive as you, and I won't go nearly as far to prove something I see as a basic truth. I submit a slightly different prize: the loser shall do something of their choice for the winner, no matter how big or small, and shall openly admit their defeat."

"Not much incentive, Hikilazy-kun. Are you already planning for your eventual defeat and attempting to soften the blow?"

"You can look at it like that, I suppose. I am actually thinking of you and your discomfort. I'm sure the unease that comes with imagining all the terrible things I'd have you do will cause you no end of emotional distress, despite the fact that I haven't said anything to indicate that I had those thoughts. I think that's called projection? Are you feeling stifled, perhaps?"

"For some reason, your sympathy and conscientiousness feel dirty and creepy. Why is that? And I will admit some surprise that you even know what projection is. Congratulations, you are marginally more intelligent than I thought you to be."

"Oho, and purely for my own curiosity, where would that put me now?"

"Roughly on the level of a particularly surly monkey, perhaps?"

"Thank you for the clarification. I notice that you didn't argue against projection."

"Why argue against something so obviously untrue? Back to the point, I agree to your terms, with a slight addition. Loser will perform an act or service for the winner of the loser's choice that the winner deems sufficient."

"So what are the conditions, Senpai?" I ask, agreeing to her addition implicitly. She looked very pleased, a small smile on her lips and her face practically beaming with cheer. "What constitutes a victory?"

"Whoever helps the most people, or provides the most useful advice or service for those who request our help, will be given the victory. Our goal is to help people regardless, so we shouldn't be setting up this competition so that our members are working at cross-purposes," she said, becoming more animated and cheerful. Her vivacity and passion were starting to burn through, but with a goal and a path, it was focused and not as intimidating and awkward. "So it'll be the results of your contributions that'll decide your victory."

"Sounds fair," I said.

"Agreed," Yukinoshita concurred, and I smiled.

A particular feeling had been building in me throughout the conversation. One I was not too familiar with, especially when it came from socializing with others, especially pretty girls. I hesitated to call it happiness. Was it enjoyment? Conversing with Yukinoshita, bantering with her, felt natural and easy. Despite the fact that we were insulting each other, there was no malice, no edge to our words or expressions.

"Hikigaya-san," Yukinoshita said, pulling me from my thoughts. "Please stop making that expression. It's making me uncomfortable."

I blinked, and looked at her in confusion. Senpai giggled into her hand.

"You're smiling, Hikigaya-kun," she said. I pressed my fingers to my cheeks, and felt the small dimples at the corner of my mouth.

"Uwah, I am," I said in astonishment. Senpai giggled again, and Yukinoshita was smiling while she read her book. "My apologies. I'll try not to subject you to that again."

"Thank you, sincerely," Yukinoshita said, and the room descended into one of the most comfortable silences I've ever experienced outside of home. I said nothing, not wanting to shatter the atmosphere, and pulled my light novel from my bag, and started to read.

1.4 Yuigahama Yui is Nice

A knock at the door brought us out of our silence.

"Please enter," Senpai called, looking up from her manga.

Sensei entered, looking far more at ease and comfortable than he had when he left. He had needed that cigarette, apparently. He looked at us and raised his eyebrows. Sensei, did you expect us to continue with that state of affairs? I would have left a long time ago if that had been the case.

"I expected you to be gone by now," Sensei said to me. You have so little confidence in me, Sensei. I'm crushed. "Glad to see I was wrong. Anyway, I've brought you someone who needs help."

He stepped to the side, and a girl was revealed. She had pinkish hair, tied into a messy bun that was off center. She wore her make up heavily; her shirt had the top three buttons undone, with no tie, and her skirt was shorter than the school code regulated by at least two centimeters. I didn't look long enough to try and make a better estimation, given that Senpai and Yukinoshita were also present and would probably murder me. She was asking for such looks, given her appearance. Why dress like a slut and get offended when you're treated like one? But they wouldn't see it that way.

Anyway, I brought my eyes up to her face from the sight of her thighs. Even if she was a slut, she was still nice to look at. Surprisingly, she was looking at me, and seemed to be confused. Ah, she probably didn't know who I was. Fair enough.

"What's Hikki doing here?" she asked. Hikki? Who is that? Okay Hachiman. Time to use your deductive skills. While not as honed as Sensei's own formidable set of mental abilities, I'd plenty of time to observe from the outside of the social hierarchy, and plenty of time to think and dissect pretty any and everything since I had pretty much nothing else to do.

Anyway, back to this mysterious 'Hikki'. There were now five people in the club room. Sensei, Senpai, Yukinoshita, and myself. 'Hikki' seemed to be a nickname of some sort. Nicknames can be tricky, as they can derive from pretty much anything. Most of the time, though, they're plays on names. 'Hikki' didn't seem to fit Hiratsuka, Yukinoshita, or Sekine. Thus, by process of elimination, 'Hikki' seemed to be based off of my name, Hikigaya.

However, nicknames are usually only applied to people you are close to or know. There are other cases, like joke names meant to make fun of an unfortunate soul. Names like 'Hikifroggy', 'Hikicreep', and 'Who?'. I did not know this girl, and there was no way she knew me. We'd never spoken before. Not even an idle greeting, or a look, or an 'excuse me, I need to get to my seat.'

"Ah, is 'Hikki' supposed to be me?" I asked. "Are you calling me a hikikomori?"

"Ah, no! I didn't mean it like that! It's just, I give everyone nicknames," the girl said, stepping back and waving her hands in front of her like she was trying to ward me off. I understand that you don't like my appearance, but still, at least a little politeness would be nice, Slut-san.

"Okay, but who are you?" I responded, my equilibrium lost due to the level of familiarity she was displaying.

"I'm in the same class as you, though," she said, and sounded a little sad. Crap, I was feeling guilty. "I'm Yuigahama Yui."

The name didn't spark any sense of recognition, and I suppose that showed on my face because Yukinoshita spoke up, as I figured would be her normal mode of talking, with an insult at my expense.

"I am Yukinoshita Yukino. Don't mind him, Yuigahama-san. I dare say that if he did know who you are, you'd be unsettled anyway, and for good reason. The thought of such rotten eyes watching me surreptitiously has me wanting to call for a police officer."

Yuigahama laughed, if a bit awkwardly. Sekine-sensei looked at me, and I shook my head.

"There are plenty of other characteristics you can belittle me for, Yukinoshita-san," I said. "Though I feel like I'm not nearly as bad as you're painting. My face, for example, isn't that bad. Regardless of my eyes. I'm not out of shape, and I'm rather intelligent, though that is my own estimation. All I'm saying is that if you keep belittling my eyes, I might end up getting a complex. I'll have to go to a therapist, who'll have to go to another therapist because of me. A chain of trauma and misery, all because you couldn't be original and find something else to insult me for. How shameful, Yukinoshita. Be better, at least for the sake of the poor therapists."

"It pains me, but you're right. I am better than pointing out the most glaring of your flaws," Yukinoshita said, an expression of dismayed realization on her face. "How shameful indeed, that I have to agree with you. There are many things I can point out that you can actually change, and I was simply reminding you of that disgusting feature that you cannot. Hikigaya-kun, I am sincerely sorry."

"Oi, it's not that bad to admit I'm right about something, is it? Like I said, I'm not unintelligent. I scored third in Japanese, you know."

"And I scored first, Hikigaya-kun. Your point?"

"Simply because your academic record is better does not mean that my achievements are meaningless, Yukipedia-san."

"Hikki's talking!?" Yuigahama gasped, her eyes wide.

"I know, right?" Senpai giggled. "It's certainly surprising and strange."

Sensei said nothing, but watched us with a mature sort of amusement, like he was seeing something he'd seen before and still enjoyed.

"What's so strange about that?" I asked, a frown on my face.

"Well, you hardly ever talk in class, or anywhere, really. You're always either reading or pretending to sleep at your desk, or something."

Pretending to sleep? How did you know!? I mean, I don't pretend to sleep, I just lay my head down and try to go to sleep, but then people do things to me or my desk as a joke and then when I wake up I find chalk dust in my hair and on my uniform, or little doodles of fish or writing on my book bag. So I end up staying awake to catch them out and make them feel at least a bit of shame. It hadn't happened yet in high school, but habits were habits for a reason.

"Why am I not surprised?" Yukinoshita said, a bit smugly. I raised an eyebrow at her, but before she could continue to belittle me just because she could, Yuigahama spoke again.

"It's surprising, but it's kinda nice seeing that he can be friends with someone!" she said brightly. "This club looks like it's a lot of fun!"

Senpai snorted and hid her face.

"Friends? Yuigahama-san, I'm offended. Please take that back. There's no way I could be friends with someone like him," Yukinoshita wasted no time in shooting down the very notion. I'll admit a slight bit of hurt at how quick and matter of fact her response was, but since I knew from the beginning there was no hope for any such thing, I brushed it aside easily.

"Wrong!" I said, crossing my arms into an 'x' in front of me. "Or, wait. Now I'm faced with the quandary of agreeing with you, Yukinoshita."

I made a pained face.

"No wonder you looked so ashamed, if this is anything like you felt. I must clarify that I am not friends with Yuki-onna-shita. At all. She is far too snowy for such things."

Yuigahama looked confused, but smiled awkwardly. "Ah, i-is that so?"

"Neh, Yuigahama-san," Senpai managed to get out through her chortling, "you had a request for us?"

Yuigahama glanced at Senpai, and nodded, her face flushed. Sensei remained silent and reserved, though I could tell he found the scene amusing.

"That's Hiratsuka Shizuka, Service Club President," I said, waving my hand in a lackadaisical gesture of presentation. Senpai smiled and waved, and Yui bowed slightly in greeting.

"Ah, yes, I mean… uh, yes."

"What's the nature of your request?" Yukinoshita asked.

"Well, I wanted to bake some cookies, as a thank you to my friends, and to thank someone for something they did that I never properly thanked them for. I… I'm really thankful that they're my friends, and that someone did something incredible for me, and I'm not sure what I can do that can show them just what that means to me, you know? The problem is, I don't know how to bake. Sensei… found me and I explained what I needed, and he brought me here, saying that you could help me."

Oh, the slut was actually a nice girl? She held her hands in her lap and looked down, her face sporting a blush that I could only tell was there because it reddened her ears. She was smiling. It was a wobbly thing, expressing her insecurity and sincerity more than any amount of words could. She truly liked her friends, and was absolutely intent on showing her… thanks… to this 'special someone'.

"With this, I'll be off in the staff room. Hiratsuka, or whoever, remember to return the key at the end of club time. Go home safely, the rest of you."

Sensei bowed politely and left. Yuigahama let out a breath.

"I don't want to sound mean, but Sensei can be pretty intimidating, you know?" she said. I pulled a chair over for her, and she sat down with a smile. "When he asked me what was wrong, I felt like a child at the thought of explaining all that to him, you know, like I was wasting his time with such a silly worry. I never even told him what it was. He just said, 'If you're uncomfortable I can show you to some students who can help you. They're this way. Is that alright?' and he led me here."

"Sekine-sensei does feel very mature, doesn't he?" Yukinoshita said, her face carrying a slight hint of embarrassment. She was probably remembering the lecture she and I had endured not too long before. Yuigahama nodded furiously, her bun bouncing off time from her head.

"Well, baking doesn't seem like it's in the purview of the club," I said, looking down at my light novel. I turned the page away from an illustration.

"Eh?" Yuigahama looked surprised and embarrassed.

"Hikigaya-kun? Why would you say that?" Senpai asked.

"Well, you told me earlier that this club was meant to be a support group to help students solve their own issues. This doesn't seem like an issue to me. In fact, of all problems, worrying about how to tell your friends you appreciate them seems like a nice one to have. If the request were more along the lines of helping Yuigahama-san find ways to express her appreciation, something that plays to her strengths, it would be closer to the spirit of the club as I understand it."

"I'm… not that good at a lot of things, though," Yuigahama sighed, closing her eyes. "I feel like I don't contribute much, you know, like… they're all amazing people, and I'm being included because they're nice. Even if that's why, I still appreciate it, and I want to show them how much they mean to me. Doesn't baking, like, show them how much effort I think they're worth? Even if it's not very good."

Senpai was close to crying tears of joy and appreciation. Her eyes shimmered and her mouth strained, like she was about to stand up and give a manly yell, 'Uoooh! Yuigahama! Your pure shoujo love for your friends has reaffirmed my faith in the innocence and truth of youth!'

Yukinoshita seemed to be floored as well by the pure and innocent declaration.

"...Well, Hiratsuka-senpai. Hikigaya-kun. I believe with this, I am convinced that Yuigahama-san is truly trying to better herself with this request, and the Service Club can help her."

"Yes! Yukinoshita-san!" Senpai shot up so violently that her chair skidded back, and Yuigahama yipped and jumped back into her seat. "You're right! Yuigahama! Such a declaration can only be met with an equal amount of support!"

I barely held in my guffaw as Senpai played to character. She really lived life as if it were a shounen manga, huh?

All three turned to look at me, and now it was my turn to play to character. I couldn't disappoint. I lazily raised an eyebrow and sighed.

"Well, if my club-mates are resolved, then I guess there's nothing else but to help," I said lethargically. Yukinoshita rolled her eyes and Senpai's lips thinned, though it seemed she was holding back another manly shout of appreciation. "Though, I'm not sure there's much I can contribute to this. I'm no good at baking, either."

"It's fine, Hikigaya-kun!" Senpai declared. "You can taste test!"

I'm in. Free food is free food, after all. Even if it's not very good, the fact I didn't have to pay or exert an effort for it imparts a delicious taste all its own.

I composed an email to my little sister: going to be late. joined a club. send me a list of things we need and i'll buy them on the way.

1.5 Hikigaya Hachiman is Easy to Please

The Home Economics room. I had nightmares about this room for some time. I would dream of people laughing at my finished dishes, or accidentally nudging my bowls and knocking them to the ground. Of a boy handing me a bag he told me was from a girl, and opening it to find it only had crumbs, and the boy laughing and saying that it had been for him, and I looked hilarious opening it like it had been for me.

Not that any of that had happened to me. Honest. I was mostly ignored by everyone and would have to do the assigned dishes by myself, even when there was an even number of people in class. One group would have three people, working together and smiling, with the third looking relieved and thankful that she'd been spared working with me. My food always felt like it was lacking something when I finished, but at least it was done, and I could finally leave.

And here I was, back once more. Yuigahama, Yukinoshita, and Senpai were all wearing aprons. Senpai and Yuigahama looked like they were about to emit light from all the energy they had, and even Yukinoshita seemed a bit more energetic, her motions swift and precise and an expression that showed she wasn't belittling her peers in her head. It seemed so stereotypically youthful, but I couldn't raise my usual amount of bitter cynicism at such a sight.

"So! We'll do something easy to start with Yuigahama-san, since you said you don't know how to bake. Cookies are relatively easy, and there are a lot of recipes in books and on the internet you can use," Senpai said brightly, helping Yukinoshita by collecting some of the ingredients that were placed too high in the cabinets for the younger girl to get without a stool. Yukinoshita collected the eggs, milk, and utensils. At Senpai's insistence, I gathered the dishes and cooking ware necessary for this task: mixing bowls, cooking sheets, and wax paper. I placed everything in three groups, enough for the three girls, since I had been sternly told that my involvement was strictly as a taste tester, and no more. Yet, here I was, helping them beyond that anyway.

Women are inherently contradictory and self-serving creatures. They say one thing, and get angry at you for taking those words at face-value. They tell you outright you have no chance, and then get offended when you say that I, I mean you, would never go out with them. They smile and treat you nicely, and when you misunderstand and believe that perhaps there's something else beneath their little laughs and giggles they cut you down and leave you feeling worthless. The worst are those who continue to be nice after such misunderstandings, saying 'let's just be friends', and never responding to my, I mean your, apologies or emails. These are objectively worse than the mean girls, who are forced to accept your contact information for class assignments and then one day I, I mean you, see them laughing at your messages with their friends during class. At least with them, you know there's no hope. These are all things I have seen. Perhaps one or two I did personally suffer, but no more than that. Honest.

"Ah, cookies sound nice! Like, I'll do my best!" Yuigahama cheered, pumping a fist into the air. Her well endowed endowments bounced heavily beneath the school shirt and the apron she wore.

"Yeah, let's all put our hearts into it!" Senpai said, winking. "Think of that special someone you want to impress, and that'll surely carry you through!"

"What if I have no one I wish to impress?" Yukinoshita said blandly. I suppressed a laugh. Senpai rolled her eyes.

"So, here's a pretty simple recipe for chocolate chip cookies," Senpai said, opening one of the school cookbooks. There were many illustrations. In fact, I could say that instead of a cookbook, Senpai had found a cook manga. If Cooking Mama was a book, I think this would be it. What? Cooking Mama did have a book series? Shut up.

"The best way to learn is to try your hardest, and follow the recipe," Yukinoshita said.

"Ano, Yukinoshita-san, that… that might not be the best way." Senpai said, setting up the measuring cups and the bowls for the flour and the eggs.

"Oh? How are you so sure? It's how I learned."

Senpai looked uncomfortable.

"Well, you see… cooking, and essentially baking, is a tricky thing. If you mess up a single step, then you might not be aware of it when it's done, and you won't know where you made your mistake."

Yukinoshita blinked and canted her head to the side as she regarded Senpai with an uncomprehending gaze.

"Mistake? I don't understand. I never made a mistake, and I had no one to guide me. Save perhaps the recipe book and a few cooking shows."

That might be the problem, Yukinoshita. You're a freak of nature. A new-type. Normal people, with weaknesses and flaws, will never be able to watch once and be able to absorb all the pertinent facts. Normal people, regular people, like say Yuigahama, have to taste their failures or have a firm guiding hand explaining the process in order to learn. Some need both, and still have trouble.

"I, uh, I want to try it Yukinon's way!" Yuigahama said, raising her hand shyly. "If I follow the recipe, I can't go wrong, right?"

"W-well, you're n-not wrong, I suppose…" Senpai murmured, now surprisingly meek. The gap was incredibly cute. Wow. Much moe. I shook my head and returned to reality before a shiba inu bonked me. I may have seen Senpai acting much like this before, but that was when she was caught off guard, when people didn't follow the shounen plot line she felt life followed. Here, now, she was being overrun by Yukinoshita's indomitable will to command and make life follow her rules. You know I'm serious when I use italics. It's why I use them so rarely. How will this transition to a visual medium, such as anime, you ask?

Pfft. As if. Get real, loser.

Gap-moe. I may have theoretically, academically, known you, through media and fantasy. But now, now I know, that I never truly grasped the full, deep flavor of true gap-moe. Usually, almost always actually, Senpai is the one to draw everyone else into her pace, to follow her ridiculous notions. Now, Senpai is faced with the fact that Yukinoshita is a protagonist level character and she's overwhelmed and becoming meek and submissive. It makes me want to pat her head. Pat-pat. I bet it would be nice.

Senpai allows them to all work alongside each other, commenting on their progress as they go.

"Yui… Yuigahama-san, you need to hold the bowl still, and mix the batter evenly."

"Yuigahama-san, you don't need to add that much vanilla extract. Only a little will do."

"Yuigahama-san, Raising the temperature in the oven will not mean the cookies will bake faster. I mean, they will, but it will not turn out the way you're thinking. That is, it will be horrible."

I watch with mounting horror as Yuigahama proceeds to butcher almost every single step of the cooking process. What was she making? Poison? Was she a hidden yandere, out to kill the object of her affection before anyone else, including her, could ruin them? Thankfully I wasn't into sluts or netorare, so I would never have to worry about that.

Such a trash fetish, netorare. I'll allow that it has potential to make a good storyline if the characters are treated fairly, but it always ends up simply emasculating and bashing the poor pathetic loser with every single fetish that most normal girls would abhor. It essentially fetishizes that 'a good woman is forced to realize her true nature', but the thing is that in order for it to work, the woman has to be absolute trash, to the point that she becomes undesirable. If they'd simply gone with how people change over time, and how lack of communication and unrealistic expectations can kill a relationship, I'd wager that story would be a gold mine instead of a pornographic sewer dump. How do I know so much, and why do I have such strong feelings, about netorare, you ask?

Don't worry about it. Mind your own business. Light novels have their own subsections of trash, too.

But I'm digressing and belaboring a needless point, because people don't communicate with each other, and most relationships are facades.

Yukinoshita and Senpai looked haggard and tired by the end of the slaughter, and all three of them looked at Yuigahama's end products with varying expressions of horror and disgust. For some reason, those expressions looked very familiar. I wonder why.

"Why do they look so different?!" Yuigahama said, the make-up around her eyes starting to run from the build up of tears and the moisture that beaded onto her eyelashes.

""I wonder why…"" Senpai and Yukinoshita intoned, their eyes and voices dead and hollow. If I looked and sounded like that, no wonder I creeped people out. Yeesh.

"W-well, looks aren't everything! Taste is the key thing! Hikki, try one!"

"No."

"Eh?! Such a quick answer!"

"Are you trying to kill me, Yuigahama? I assure you, while you would be hailed as a hero and a public servant, I can't die until I allow my little sister to find a husband and caretaker worthy of her. Besides, my dying might actually hurt her feelings, and I definitely can't have that."

"Why do those words, which would sound laudable coming from anyone else, sound like the words of a depraved siscon, coming from you?" Yukinoshita asked.

I scoffed.

"I'm offended, Yuki-projector-san. My feelings for my sister are purely those of an honorable older brother, who is committed to ensuring that she never knows true pain and hurt."

"Why don't we all try one of each of ours? And then we can compare our… uh, our… methods," Senpai said, doing an admirable job of breaking up another back-and-forth session between Yukinoshita and I, until she looked at Yuigahama's cookies again and realized what she'd signed herself up for, and began tripping over her own words.

Yuigahama all but shoved one of her cookies into my hands. It felt like a kiln-fired clay facsimile of a cookie. A bad one. It didn't even look appetizing. Senpai smiled and pushed over a paper towel with one of her own and one of Yukinoshita's submissions.

"Yukinon, your cookies look so good…" Yuigahama murmured, staring at the perfectly baked confection with awe.

"You haven't even eaten it yet," Yukinoshita said, two small dots of red on her cheeks. "And please don't call me Yukinon. It sounds ridiculous."

Well it's a nickname, Yukinoshita, so…

"But it looks so good, I kinda don't wanna eat it?" Yuigahama said, sounding more like a child with every word. "Like, something this perfect should be saved, or something. Right, Hikki?"

"Hmm?" Not my best response, I know. There wasn't much else I could have said with my mouth full of Yukinoshita's cookie.

"Hikki?!" Yuigahama cried, as if I'd betrayed her or something. Bitch, I don't have such scruples. If the perfect free food is placed in front of me, I'll gladly eat it, and treasure the memory.

"Look, if it bothers you that much, I can do something to help you," I said, relaxing my face and attempting to imitate Sensei's Sekine Skill: Maturity Face. It's not a good title, but I'll work on it. My imitation seems to get Yuigahama to lower her guard. "Give the cookie to me, and I'll eat it. Then I'll tell you how perfect it was."

Yuigahama clutches the cookie to her chest, before shoving the entire thing into her mouth at once and immediately weeping from joy. She should. After all, the texture, the sweetness, the consistency of the chocolate, everything melded together to make the perfect cookie. If I hadn't seen Yukinoshita make this, I would not have believed this was handmade.

"Yukinoshita, if I didn't know you, I'd say that you were intentionally trying to outshine both myself and poor Yuigahama-san," Senpai hummed, having nibbled off a piece of Yukinoshita-cookie that she'd received. "But since it's only Hikigaya-kun here, I guess you just try this hard for everything you do, huh?"

Senpai, even though you're right and I'm not offended that Yukinoshita wouldn't try to impress me even if it cost her life, I'd appreciate a small bit of courtesy.

"Yes. And, for a blessed moment, I forgot Hikigaya-san was even here."

Please, stop stabbing me with your words.

"Oh, yeah, Hikki's here!"

Yuigahama, you were just talking to me. Was the cookie so good you forgot I existed? Well, I understand that. I almost forgot I'd been born when I ate mine, too.

"Well, time for Senpai's contribution," I said. "Thanks for the food."

Senpai's cookie, in contrast to Yukinoshita's, was not nearly as good. The texture was slightly rougher, the chocolates weren't as uniformly distributed, and I think she might have added a little too much sugar. Honestly, I could picture Senpai pouring the sugar in, and stirring her batter vigorously, thinking to herself, 'Now I'm experiencing Youth! I will look back on this and smile!'

Despite all that, I think I preferred it over Yukinoshita's.

"Eh? Really, H-hi-hikigaya-kun?" Senpai was flushed and was looking at me in surprise. Yukinoshita was frowning slightly, and looking at her cookies as if she were trying to see through them, and Yuigahama was happily chewing away at the cookie she'd received from Senpai.

"Ehehe, Hikki, you were thinking out loud," Yuigahama laughed to herself and chomped on the last bit of Senpai's contribution she had left.

"Well, Yukinoshita's cookie was perfect. Absolutely perfect. It was so good, if I hadn't seen it made in front of me, I wouldn't have been able to say that it wasn't store-bought. If Yukinoshita told me she had made them herself and I didn't know her, I'd think she was lying to make herself look better."

"Tch! I would never!"

"I know that, but if I were someone who didn't have even the slightest knowledge of Yukinoshita as I do now, that's what I would think. Senpai's cookie, in comparison, can't hold a candle to it. In almost every metric, it's outshined by Yukinoshita's. If this were a cooking show, Senpai would only be booted off after Yuigahama was roasted by the mean judge."

"Eh?! But you haven't even tried mine yet!"

"Hikigaya-kun is saying an awful lot of mean things today…"

"B-but it's that very imperfection that makes it stand out!" I had truthfully been meaning to leave my comments at that, but Senpai was looking both depressed and vengeful. I had been subjected to her fist before. Never again. Unless it's funny and I can't help myself. Anyway, hurry compliments, compliments! Uh…

"I can tell Senpai made this. I can picture Senpai smiling and stirring the batter while she's picturing herself as a shounen protagonist. Senpai's cookie tells me that she put effort, no matter how flawed, into it. I can't trust perfect things, because nothing in this world is perfect. But those imperfect things that come close are all the sweeter for it."

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama were looking at me like they had never laid eyes on me before. Senpai was flushed and smiling, but her eyes were unfocused and she was muttering something under her breath. I flushed and turned my face away. Perfect, let them think I was just embarrassed…

"Amazing. That almost felt authentic and meaningful," Yukinoshita said, her voice carrying a tone of awe. "If one had not heard the beginning of his words, you'd think that he wasn't trying to avoid his rightful punishment."

I shot Yukinoshita a glare. How dare she out me like that! I almost convinced myself with those words.

"He lies, but never about stuff like this," Senpai said with conviction. "It's usually about stuff like getting bullied or when he wants someone to think he's better off than he is. He deceives more than he lies. He might not have meant it literally, but he meant parts of everything, and I think I got what he was trying to say beneath the beneath."

For a moment there, I couldn't breathe. Senpai had looked so mature, so worldly, that I was scarcely able to believe that it was her. And now she was ruining the effect by winking and smiling?

Was this another shounen reference?

"Well, I have hope then! Mine may not look good, but I put my heart into it, so that'll definitely shine through!" Yuigahama finished her statement with a wink and a peace sign. Oi. How air-headed can you get? "Well? Go on, Hikki, try one and tell me."

Wait, why was everyone looking at me? Yuigahama, where did that cheeriness go? Your eyes look blank, Yuigahama. I'm scared. I glanced at the door and calculated my chances of making it out the door before Yukinoshita or Senpai could reach me. Yukinoshita was an unknown, but Senpai could grab me from across a classroom with me having half the room as a head start.

"Don't even try it, Hikigaya-kun," Senpai breathed, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

I reached a hand out to what had been called a cookie, but could it really be called that? It looked like something that had been made to look like a cookie, but no real effort had been made to cover for the flaws. Parts looked burnt, others looked hardly baked; the chocolate chips seemed more like half healed scabs than delicious blobs of sweetness. I picked the thing up and took a bite.

"...Well?" Yuigahama looked at me, her eyes wide and her face sporting an expression of suspense and expectation. It was very endearing, and I had to remind myself that she was merely worried about the cookie. There wasn't anything deeper to this, I was involved. Get a grip, Hachiman. You don't need another fiasco of misunderstanding.

"It's horrible," I said, swallowing the crunchy bits of cookie that just tasted eerily similar to the burned bits of overcooked barbecue. "Please don't make me take another bite."

Yuigahama wilted.

"I tried so hard, though," she said sadly. "Maybe I should just give up if it's that bad. I can't even dream of being as good as Yukinon and Hiratsuka-senpai! Uuuu."

"You have no room to complain if you're going to give up now," Yukinoshita said, her eyes glinting like icicles. "People who don't put in the effort, who give up after one failure, can't even have the dignity to say that they tried. Try again, or stop wasting others' time and cry to yourself in private. Work harder. People with talent are talented. That's simply who we are. If you do not have the talent, work harder, push through, and you will gain the experience to overcome your obstacles."

"Hard work doesn't always pay off, though," I interjected. "It's foolish to think that you can make up for a failure with harder work. Some people are simply not good at certain things, and to think that you can equal or surpass someone who is naturally gifted is setting you up for disappointment and more failure."

"So the only option is to give up? I won't believe that. Yuigahama-san, if you give up now, then I will have no sympathy for you. Giving up gives you no right to complain."

Yuigahama was looking down, her hands clutched together in front of her.

"Oi, Yukinoshita. Wasn't that a bit harsh?"

"Yukinoshita-san…" Senpai murmured.

Yukinoshita herself seemed to realize just how her words could have been conveyed, but Yuigahama looked up at her with shining eyes before any apology or explanation could be said.

"That was so cool!"

Eh? Yuigahama, are you a masochist? Do you enjoy being hurt? In that case, Yukinoshita is perfect for you. Please, take care of each other. I should stop this line of thought before my mind is overrun with images of lilies.

"I mean, it was pretty harsh and strict, but you were, like, just trying to help me and being yourself and not holding back. It's nice having someone give you, like, genuine criticism, you know? My friends and, like, the people I know don't really give advice like that. And I like how supportive they are! It's not that I'm dissatisfied or anything! It's just nice that you're taking me seriously, you know?"

All three of us, Yukinoshita, Senpai, and myself, were stunned into silence. Was she secretly intelligent? Even in the short time I've known Yukinoshita, she had been nothing but cutting or critical, and had made no attempt to soften her words. I knew that to look deeper, for any sort of hopeful message in regards to myself was a lost cause, but Yuigahama had almost made me rethink everything there. In her case, that might be true.

Wait, this meant Yuigahama would try to bake again, didn't it? Alert! Think, Hachiman, think. How do I escape another round of attempted poisoning? Yuigahama wants to show her appreciation to her friends and someone she likes. She wanted to bake for them to show this (I'm sorry friends and future boyfriend, but that's your problem). Ah. So that's what this was. She was overthinking it.

"Yuigahama-san," I said before she could say she was ready to try again. "You wanted to show your appreciation to your friends and someone you like, right?"

"W-well, I didn't say I liked them…" Yuigahama said, flushing and looking to the side. Sure. I completely believe you, Yuigahama.

"Forgive me for putting myself in that special someone's shoes, but if I were to receive this, even as bad as it is, I would be moved," I said, looking at the monstrosity in my hand. Even so, it was true. If Yuigahama had truly given these to me, and managed to say with her sincere air-headed manner that she appreciated and liked me, I would probably confess and get rejected.

"...would that be because you've never received such a thing before?" Yukinoshita hummed quietly. I glared at her.

"Oi. I've received obligation chocolates before. Stop making me out to be that pathetic."

"...Hikigaya-kun, I don't think she's the one doing that…" Senpai murmured. I ignored her.

"Anyway! As I was saying, the point isn't necessarily that these are good, but that you made the effort to show me your regard. Boys, including me, are simple. We're easy to please. We'd be happy that a girl like you is thinking of us in the first place, especially with such friendly affection. Of course, you'd be best off explaining that you're not good at baking at all, but that you tried your best, for the greatest effect. It'll guilt the others into awkwardly complimenting your effort rather than the frankly disturbing result."

"Hikigaya-san, once more I'm astounded to realize just how rotten you are. My estimation of you may have gone up had you not added that last part," Yukinoshita sighed, rubbing her temples.

"So, if I did give these to you, you'd be happy?" Yuigahama asked, an expression that seemed to show uncertainty, happiness, dismay, and hope all at once. Trying to parse such a garbled sentence of an expression would give me a headache, so I didn't even try.

"Of course. After all, these express your appreciation. If I were to receive such a thing, I'd probably treasure the memory forever. After throwing out the cookies after you left so as to not hurt your feelings."

"...Hikigaya-kun, stop talking." Senpai said.

"Is that so…" Yuigahama smiled widely and brightly. Despite the heavy makeup and lipstick, I could say that she was definitely beautiful. "Hikki, catch!"

She tossed another cookie at me, and I caught it. Was one not enough? I didn't even finish it! Don't tell me you're really trying to kill me!

"Thank you, everyone! You've really helped me out!" Yuigahama bowed, and dashed out of the home economics room, leaving us there.

"She just left us with the cleaning, didn't she?" I asked.

"Seems like it," Senpai said. Yukinoshita nodded. They both gathered their things and made their way to the exit. "Well, we're leaving this to you, Hikigaya-kun. Make sure to lock up after everything's put away."

"Thank you for volunteering to clean up, Hikigaya-san. Perhaps you are not as bad as I thought."

Wait. What? You're leaving me too?! This isn't even my mess! I didn't volunteer! Come back!

The door slid closed and the taps of their shoes on the floor slowly receded. I sighed and pulled out my phone, telling my little sister that I was going to be a little later than I had originally planned.

Five minutes into cleaning, the door opened, and Sensei stepped into the room.

"Ah, so you're actually cleaning. I'll help," he said, taking off his jacket and laying it on a clean table. Sensei, why are you always surprised when I'm doing something laudable? Am I really so rotten? "The girls told me that you had volunteered to do the cleaning. I thought that was highly suspect, so I came to check out the room and make sure it wasn't a disaster."

I snorted.

"I take it that's not how things went?"

"I suppose you can say I was stranded, Sensei," I said. He snorted and gathered the used cooking ware and dishes into the sink. Rolling up his sleeves past his elbows, he started washing them.

"Tell me about the club today, if you don't mind. The girls told me a little bit, but I sent them home before it got too late. I want to get your side."

I told him about Yuigahama's request, and the subsequent baking trial. Sensei interjected and asked about my opinion on the girls, and the situation, at different times during my retelling. With his help, the cleaning didn't take long, and we had everything looking like no one had used the room at all. It was a better result than if I had been cleaning myself, to be sure.

"Will you continue with the club?" Sensei asked after locking the door.

"I didn't feel like I had much of a choice," I responded, despite the fact that Sensei had told me as much when all of this had started. I had forgotten, with everything else that had happened taking up my attention.

"I notice that's not an answer," he said. He had his jacket and his bag, a leather carry-all sort of thing, hanging off a couple fingers of one hand, casually lifting them to hang over his shoulder, and stuffed the other into his pocket. We started walking to the school's entrance. "You do have the choice, Hikigaya. You already know why I want you to, but in the end the choice and its consequences are yours."

I thought back on the day, and remembered Senpai, Yukinoshita, and Yuigahama. Sensei remained quiet, allowing me to think.

I hadn't answered by the time we reached the entrance to the school. I stopped by my locker, and retrieved my shoes, and Sensei stopped with me for a moment.

"...I suppose if you come back tomorrow, that will be an answer in itself," he said. "If you decide to join, remember to make an official application. Hiratsuka would likely accept an informal, verbal request, but I know she'd appreciate the effort and thought of writing it down. She overthinks things, too. Make it a little easier for her."

I nodded, putting my outdoor shoes on.

"I'll do that. If I join," I said, equivocating at the last second. I had already decided to join, but something held me back from saying it to Sensei. Did I want to think about it some more? In the scheme of things, it wasn't that big of a change, or a life-changing decision. Or maybe I was thinking it was, as this whole process was for the purpose of changing me. He probably understood, anyway.

"Good. Regardless, I'll see you tomorrow, Hikigaya."

"See you tomorrow, Sensei," I responded, and he walked out the doors.

I took my time with my shoes, losing myself in the process and purposely not thinking of anything outside of that. I walked to the bike racks and looked around. The area wasn't deserted, but it was after club hours, and most everyone had already left the school except for the late staff and teachers behind on their work. I unlocked my bicycle, and settled my bag on the little hook on the seat. I pulled out my phone, and saw a number of emails from my little sister. I smiled after reading them, and emailed her back.

Roger, I'll explain everything when I get home. I'll get all of that, including those snacks you like. I'm such a good big brother, aren't I? Ah, that scored me some points!

Being extra careful to check traffic, I biked to the grocery store to fulfill my brotherly duties, and to the inquisition that awaited me at the end of this highly unusual school day.


Author's Note: This took me about a week to write. Mainly during downtimes at work. I wrote this on my phone. Bluetooth keyboards are amazing things. The narration changes between past and present, and this is partially intended. By partially, I mean I caught it about a third of the way through and instead of being a man and making a decision that I would second guess and take me forever to rewrite and fix, I kept going. If I had, I would have second-guessed myself the entire time, and this would have never ended, languishing half-finished in my storage and brain like most of my other stories, save for the cringe I've already posted on this site.

Please, don't read it. I beg you. It's trash. I won't delete it, because some people did like it, and while I can't understand their taste, I have lost favorite stories from authors deciding they were trash and deleting them too, and I'm lazy. Like, super lazy.

Formatting is ridiculous. I apologize, and will work to fix what I can. I don't have a beta reader. I may continue this story, simply to progress some plot points (8man's first year and Hiratsuka and Sensei, for example). This story began as a "young hiratsuka" story, and I decided to spice it up with a person 8man could possibly look up to, or use as a role model. As much as he would, that is. De-aging hiratsuka is basically making an original character anyway. Yes. I said it. I'm not taking it back.

I cannot control your reviews. That said, if you like it or don't, please explain why, so that I might better understand you weird people.

Thank you for reading.