"Life sucks, and then you die." – Albert Einstein.
Not.
I'm not sure who the genius was that first came up with that phrase, but they were placed squarely near the top of my 'People I'd like to kill' list. That phrase is a glorification and standardisation of the shitty wage slave life that society imposes upon us. You should have said 'Work sucks, go home and be a househusband!' random dumbass on the internet. Then I wouldn't want to kill you!
Also, the original phrase is a damn lie!
Life doesn't suck for you, you asshole. I'm sure you have plenty of friends, family and maybe even a lover that cares for you. I'm sure you have a group of workmates that you meet with every couple of days after work and go and drink and socialise with you goddamn normie! And while you're there I'm sure you bitch and moan about how your manager would be much cuter if she just smiled more, and how Tanaka-kun is getting pretty fat after his wife left him.
Sucks to be you, Tanaka-kun, but you probably shouldn't have been visiting the same love hotel every weekend. I'm sorry, Tanaka-kun, but being so predictable in your cheating means you weren't exactly trying your best in your marriage. Also, why were you cheating in the first place!? Go die, asshole! Leave some women for the rest of us losers!
Anyway, where was I?
Oh right, most people's lives were pretty great. Or as much as they could be when they'd bowed to the system and submitted to the loss of life that was working. Unlike mine. My life sucked pretty massively, to be honest. I had no friends, girls were repulsed by me, and my family cared more about my little sister than they did me.
Ah! Komachi! Komachi would probably be pretty sad if I die… but then, I guess that's where my life was heading at this point. And I'm sure she'll get over it in no time. Just remember, my dear little sister! In the event of my death you get Vita-chan only if you destroy my laptop without looking at anything in it.
It says so right in the document titled 'IN CASE OF DEATH – KOMACHI!' on the desktop. Please don't click the folder next to it. It says right there 'DO NOT LOOK!' you know!
So yeah, I think the phrase would have been best worded as 'Hikigaya Hachiman's life sucked. And then he died.'
Or, 'got killed' I guess.
Admittedly, like any true scholar of the great linguistic arts, I had had dreams of dying in a tragic accident and being whisked off to a fantasy land full of cute girls and magic.
While there, I would have the benefit of a not unattractive face, good hygiene, and modern education to place me in the top 1% of men. That, plus a non-existent drinking age, would mean I could spend every day drinking and partying with cute girls when I wasn't out killing the Demon Lord's minions with my cheat magic powers gifted to me by a wonderful Goddess.
Unlike a certain someone, I'm sure my Goddess will be a beauty with brains and an unpadded chest who will make my every dream come true instead of dragging my useless self out for adventures!
But alas, instead of my fateful meeting with Truck-kun and a life of decadence and debauchery I got stabbed by a psychotic stalker slut with wings and left bleeding out on the ground like an idiot.
…for some reason, the ground in the middle of Winter is surprisingly warm and comfortable.
Wait, I'm in my bed. Why am I there? I really was on the ground right? My body was bleeding the iced over grass in that park red, right? I was seriously dying, right?
Apparently I wasn't. I was home in my bed and when I went to school no-one remembered a single thing about the psycho that had asked me out every afternoon from the day we changed our Summer uniforms until I'd finally agreed.
Huh, what's that? You mean I should've expected her to do something crazy? Well I did, which is why I told as many people as I could about the super-hot girl I was dating and handed out her picture to everyone who cared.
Which was no one.
But I also told Komachi, so it's really weird that not even she remembered that slut! Seriously, while I'm sure my mother and father wouldn't remember such shocking news as their son having a girlfriend, I'm certain my sister would remember her beloved big brother being taken away from her!
But she didn't.
So I guess maybe the phrase should instead be 'Hikigaya Hachiman's life sucked. And then he went crazy.'
[Break]
I'd been sent home before lunch for "much needed rest and recuperation." I thought the school nurse might have been full of it, but as I blearily opened my eyes, I saw the clock had more than completed a full revolution in the time I'd slept. I'd fallen asleep around 1pm yesterday – the school had ordered me a taxi home. Given that I had no lights on but could see just fine, it was fair to assume it couldn't be anywhere near 7pm. I'd been comatose for the past eighteen hours.
Huh.
Also, my head hurt like hell, and my throat was begging for water.
Apparently going crazy gives you a hangover. I'll be sure to drink plenty of water next time my mental faculties take a vacation. Attempting to rise from my bed, some accursed sunlight slipped through the gap in my curtains and invited another wave of agony and lethargy to wash over me.
All there was covering me was a light sheet, and yet it took the full extent of my strength to lift it off of my exhausted body. I needed food. And coffee. Pronto.
Luckily, it seemed Komachi had been kind enough to leave a couple of slices of bread after making her own breakfast, so I was able to make some toast before washing it down with a nice, cold, refreshing can of MAX Coffee. Normally, I would have tried to make something a bit more elaborate, but right now every move I made was making my body hurt and my head pound. And I still had to ride my bike for the hour's journey from Chiba to Kuoh.
As I should have expected, entering the school the morning after my apparent psychotic break I found myself the focus of the school's gossip mill. This isn't exactly new, of course; I'd been on the receiving end of plenty of nasty rumours since elementary. It was the first time it had happened in high school though.
A year of being a loner and now my name was in every pretty girl's mouth. My luck was about to change!
"Hey, Hiki… uhh, Hiki… Hiki… Hikitani-kun! Is it true your girlfriend dumped your gross ass on Christmas?"
"C'mon, no way that creep had a real girlfriend. His whole story is hella pathetic."
Not.
Ignoring the snickering hyenas that lurked inside the shell of school girls was one of my 108 Special Skills. I'd been forced to learn it in middle school, and since then it's had a 100% chance of being super effective against Normal types.
Use it together with my favourite pair of skills – Stealth Hiki (the ability to go completely undetected by the people that didn't really care about you) and Feigning Sleep for bonus Synergy Points! Throw in my Ultimate Skill: Blabbering To Myself and I can keep myself entertained and not have to listen to the garbage spreading garbage about all the other garbage just so that the highest tier of garbage controlling the school can get their rocks off.
Unfortunately, as the most recent piece of garbage, it was my foresworn duty to uncover the names of the bastards talking trash about me so I can add them to my Death Note. Make no mistake you smiling snakes hiding behind the façade of youthful indiscretion, you are all criminals, guilty of wounding the newly appointed god of this world. There will be no heart attacks or strokes, only painful and humiliating deaths as I make you shit yourselves into the next life for talking about me behind my back.
Or maybe I'll make you spill every thought you have about your groupies until they get angry enough to sell you out to the Romans for 13 yen.
My arrival to the Class 1-F classroom passed by unremarkably, with no one inside any the wiser that it had happened. Just like every other day.
The average Japanese high school classroom came equipped with five rows of six desks ranging evenly across the room such that the first desk was next to the door so that the class president can kiss the teacher's ass as they walk in, and the protagonist can sit in the back row and look out the window whenever the hell they wanted.
For the record, my desk was in the third row, next to the wall. A blessing today to be sure, since it meant I wouldn't have the sun beating this headache any worse into my head. That also meant I had to limp past at least a couple people to slink into my desk; during which I was much too visible to the whole room. Wait, that's strange, isn't it? Doesn't that mean that people should totally know I'm here? But, no one is talking or gossiping any more than they were before I walked in.
That's really weird, you know? I just had a major freakout yesterday, you know? You could at least pretend to give a crap about your classmate, you know! Ahhh, I guess that was truly a testament to the power of Stealth Hiki – even when I'm the hottest piece of gossip, no one sees me.
I'm sure it wasn't just a case of no one actually knowing what my name is. That's just cruel, you guys. We've been together for eight months now – that's plenty of time to learn the names of all your new classmates.
In front of me, a couple of otaku were auto-piloting through some MonHun quests on their Switches while they passionately discussed the anime they had eagerly stayed up 'til 2am to watch. Hey, that's actually a really nice conversation. I wanna join in too… uhh... what were your names again? Was it Oda-kun? Tahara-kun?
Ah well, even though I liked those things, I probably wouldn't be welcomed into their conversation. Guys like me who half-ass hobbies like that tend to get looked down on by hardcore fans. Those used to be the hobbies of us loners, but now you just can't succeed without being able to brag about how much more cultured you are because you found some shitty niche thing that no one else has ever heard or cares about. And if you can't manage that then you definitely need to be able to talk about the literal days you've wasted consuming your obsession of choice.
No one cares that you've watched all of One Piece five times. Everyone knows the anime is a dumpster fire and you should just read it in JUMP, dumbass.
Ignoring the otaku who had begun to talk about which 2D character this season had the best chest, I looked around the room looking for who had the best 3D che– I mean, any other conversations that might be involving me. I'd come to school early today solely to do so, after all. My being in class before the warning bell was all but a sign of the apocalypse. It'd be tragic if I brought Satan closer to walking on Earth for nothing.
That being said, I already knew that there was only one group that would be vapid and inane enough to be talking about such a stupid thing like me before class.
"Hey, hey, Hayato! Did you hear about that Hikio dude? Freaky, right?!"
The Normie Court. The Normiest Normies to ever Normie. They were the who's who of the class, and by extension the school, despite only being first years. There were only a select few who stood higher on the social ladder than those guys, and they were all weirdoes who didn't really interact with anyone below them. Or so I'd heard through the grapevine, at least.
"Hikio? Ah, that's a bit rude, Tobe. That's not his name at all."
Although I said that the group was a collection of the who's who, it was really just two. The handsome breakout star of the Soccer Club, and king of the Normies, Hayama Hayato, and his number one fangirl, the self-fashioned Fire Queen of Kuoh.
"Eh, its not? Seriously Hayato? I was totally calling him Hikio all afternoon yesterday, y'know? That's so embarrassing!"
Miura Yumiko was a beautiful blonde – apparently natural, so I guess she was a half. She was also equally loud and obnoxious as hell. The other girls in the group were her handmaidens, specially picked out by the oh so generous queen to make herself look even better in contrast, and who's existence served only to inflate her already massive ego.
"I totally get you, Yumiko! Like, the other day, I was talking to Hina about that pretty little boutique in the mall and I totally called it the wrong thing the whole time! I was talking with her for like, half an hour and never even realised it! Oh, but I did try to tell you that Hikki's name is actually…"
The one who replied this time was a pretty girl with died brunette hair. She wore her skirt super short, and had her shirt unbuttoned enough to display the Holy Grail to any who dared to stare. It really did gleam with a special light… no wait, that was just the sun glinting off the heart pendant laying in her vast valley.
By the way, such an interesting tale you wove there, Ms. Handmaiden. I personally love that you equate getting my name wrong as the same as forgetting the name of some stupid shop. Also, what the hell is a Hikki? Is that some kind of venereal disease getting spread around you Normies? Why did you make it sound like that's my name, huh? Am I really on the same level as that kind of thing? That's actually kind of impressive, it implies I might actually have a chance of not becoming a Wizard.
Any further gossip was cut off by the bell ringing, and our maths teacher walking through the door. I'd been feeling the urge to nap all morning, and though I fought it valiantly, alas the fell magic took hold of me at last. Farewell, good maths grades. You were too good for this world – and for me. Good riddance.
[Break]
The rest of the day passed as well as any day could. In second period, Modern Japanese, I was rudely awakened by a book to the head, followed by a very friendly request to stay after homeroom. I don't ever want to wake up with you next to me again, sensei. You have a very scary smile, sensei.
From there, things progressed as normal; I left the classroom at lunch to go sit in my special spot, and during homeroom I pulled my light novel from my bag and started reading. My lack of social presence worked in my favour, and by the end of the day all knowledge of my freakout yesterday had passed from everyone's memories as more important things came about.
Apparently Yuna-senpai from class 3-C was still a virgin, and that was like, so totally embarrassing. How did she even call herself a woman? Seriously.
Seriously, go blow yourselves up, you sex obsessed Normies. I saw how embarrassed half of you were with that conversation. You're all virgins as well, aren't you? Go apologise to Yuna-senpai, I'm sure if she just got a good face cream to cover all those pimples she could totally get a boyfriend. Since you guys are like the pimples of society, maybe it'd get rid of you too.
"Hikigaya!"
I was disturbed from my daydream of drowning the Normie Court in industrial waste by the woman who seemed to live solely to make me suffer through school more than my parents. Hiratsuka-sensei was a beautiful woman, with spectacular womanly charms. She was also my homeroom and Modern Japanese teacher. My head was still throbbing from this morning, you witch.
Perhaps detecting the venomous thoughts I was harbouring for her in my head, or just plain seeing the lack of care in my gaze as I turned to look at her, she glared back as if daring me to say anything. With a sharp gesture across the area of her throat she swiftly departed the from the room, white lab coat placed overtop her pants suit swishing magnificently as she strode forth, heels clicking with every step.
What the hell? Are you a delinquent or something? What kind of teacher threatens to kill their student? Also, how long did you spend practicing that coat swish? I used to dress in my father's coat and practice that for hours and could never pull it off. Maybe it was something that came with age? She certainly had a fair bit of that on me.
Packing and leaving the classroom was a simple matter. Light novel went back in bag, and I walked out without anyone stopping to bid me farewell, or talk to me in general. It wasn't far then from the classroom to the staff office.
Kuoh Academy has a relatively simple, if grand, design. Built in the fashion of a massive, five storey Western mansion (complete with overly elaborate, tacky, and enormous fountain in the front courtyard) the former all-girls high-and-middle school is comprised of two wings. In both wings, the second through fourth floor held one grade, split into 10 classes each. Left wing for the High Schoolers. Right wing for the Middle schoolers.
I'd never been to the right wing, but for the high school side there was a stairwell at both ends of the wing, as well as one in the middle. As such, the staffroom was located next to the centre stairwell on the second floor so that the occupants were placed centrally and, ideally, wouldn't need to walk too far to get to classrooms. I can only assume the Middle school is laid out similarly.
Not that that helped the poor suckers that had to walk from Class 1-A, located right next to the entrance foyer on the second floor, to Class 3-J at the end of the wing on the fourth.
Take that Onita-sensei! That's what you deserve for trying to make future generations of young Japanese suffer through the hell you call Maths! We all have computers in our pockets these days you old coot, who needs to memorise all those boring formulas?!
On the top and bottom floors were all the clubrooms: sports teams on the first floor so that they could change and get out on the field quickly, culture clubs on the fifth floor. From what I understood, both the high school and middle school student council rooms, as well as assorted meeting rooms were located in the central building dividing the wings/schools. Alas my parents didn't care enough to come to Parents' Day this year so I'd thankfully never had to make use of them for the obligatory teacher meetings that were sure to follow such an event.
Anyway, since I'm in class 1-F, the staff room is practically next door to my classroom – only a short trip up the stairs away. I have in fact been standing in front of it for the past couple minutes trying to delay this meeting as much as possible.
Oh, Hiratsuka-sensei just flung the door opened and sighed at me. Guess there's no more putting this off.
Hiratsuka-sensei's desk was second from the door, so even as I shuffled my indoor shoes across the linoleum floor, embracing the squeaking that ensued (much to the other teachers' chagrin), I was too soon stood across from her much too sympathetic eyes as they looked deep into mine.
"Now, Hikigaya, let's talk about what happened yesterday."
And just like that I knew this conversation was going to be hell. Still, I am a veteran at getting through conversations I don't want to have. Fear me, sensei, as I come at you with every weapon in stock.
"Yesterday? What happened yesterday? Seemed like a pretty normal day to me."
Ha! Take this! With my eyes focused on the window outside, I'll pretend it never happened! Just like that birthday party that everyone including my parents cancelled their RSVP for. I definitely didn't stay up all night crying that day waiting for you guys to come home only to get brushed off as you headed to bed! In fact, that birthday was great, because I got to spend it watching Komachi eat all of my cake!
"Hikigaya, averting those rotten fish eyes of yours from people is a good habit to make them tolerate you, but you shouldn't avert them from the truth."
Eh? That didn't work? Also, what kind of sensei are you, calling my eyes rotten!
"Calling them something like that… makes it sound like I'm high in Omega-3."
Fine then, sensei, if lying doesn't work, let's see you tackle misdirection and tangents! I promise you, when you only have yourself to talk to these are the skills that will hit their level 9999 cap first!
"Too bad Onita-sensei is more than willing to share your maths grade to prove that theory wrong. Now, stop trying to change the subject – you had a very large, very public meltdown yesterday. As school guidance counsellor, and your homeroom teacher, I need to know what happened and why."
Ah! She blew straight through my skills! All that time spent grinding for nothing! Curse you! Curse you and your carefully honed 'Speaking to Stubborn Students' skill.
Fine then. I didn't want to have to resort to it, but take this: My Certain Kill, Hidden Technique!
"…"
"Remaining silent, huh. Geez, you're acting like an elementary student. Look, I get it. It's embarrassing, and I'm sure you've been getting crap for it all day. But pretending that it didn't happen and refusing to talk about it aren't going to help you move on. They'll just make it harder for you to talk about other things in the future."
Why did she have to make so much sense? Why did she have to look at me with those kind eyes free of any and all judgement? Everyone else was perfectly content to ignore it and me and resume their lives; so why couldn't I?
Maybe sensing the acerbic, resentment fuelled remark that was no doubt making its way onto the tip of my tongue, Hiratsuka-sensei held up a hand to stop me.
"Such a frustrating brat. I'm trying to stop you from turning into the Great Saiyaman here, you know."
Eh, what was with that reference sensei? Are you trying to say you want me to live up to my potential instead of ending up a joke? Sorry, but I think you're placing too much confidence in me. My destiny is to be Chichi. Although, speaking of, you have a nice pair of Chichi yourself.
The sound of air (and an arm) rushing past my ear made my head snap to attention and focus on Hiratsuka-sensei's glare. I wasn't staring at them, I promise. I was just looking at that pin you have there, I promise. What was that anyway? It looked older than sensei hersel-
There was no sound of rushing air this time, just the impact of her fist in my gut. Scary. You're way too scary, Hiratsuka-sensei. You'd actually hit a student? And what was with that smug grin as you blew pretend smoke off your fist. Dammit, you're no sexy older lady at all, are you?
"Are you ready to talk now?" I nodded my assent, and staggered over towards the seat she indicated. "Start wherever you feel like, and just let out whatever you think is pertinent."
Wherever I feel like huh? I guess the beginning is the best place, but where even was the beginning? Looking back at my memories of the past couple weeks, it's all just kinda hazy. Did that woman even exist, or did I really just have a bad dream and freaked out over nothing?
"A couple months ago, right before classes ended for Summer break, some girl cornered me on my way home and asked me out on a date."
I let her snort of disbelief go. I didn't believe it myself, after all. "I thought it was just a practical joke, that her friends were hiding behind the next corner or something waiting to laugh at me for accepting or her for being made to do it, or something."
"I see, it is an unfortunately common prank to have people ask out someone they're not actually interested in."
Huh? Sensei, did that happen to you too? Are you saying guys do that to unpopular girls too? I've never had friends, so I had no idea. Judging by the look on her face (and the pain of her last punch) I decided to just pretend I never heard her say that.
"So, obviously, I rejected her and walked away. But then she showed up the next day. And the next. She kept asking me out and it was too annoying to keep telling her the same things so I just ignored her. But I guess she took that as acceptance 'cause she started following me everywhere."
Sensei was nodding along, so I guess that didn't sound as ridiculous to her as it did to me. Were girls really that scary when they were interested in someone? Sensei, do you stalk the guys you're interested in? No wonder I don't see a ring on your finger.
"The weird thing was that even on the weekend, and then during Summer Break she'd show up out of nowhere while I was out doing something. I didn't have her number or email or anything, but I guess she just lived close by? I definitely called her a stalker a few times but she always laughed it off. I guess, after a while I just got used to her, and when she asked me out again at the end of Summer I said yes."
Really, looking back, the less things made sense. She was a nice girl, and I hated nice girls. I was a self-avowed loner – relationships existed solely to ruin men, and yet for some reason I didn't hate it when she showed up. And, above all, there was the simple fact that…
"Sensei… Honestly, I'm saying all this but I don't even really remember anything we talked about. Or what she looked like. I don't remember her name, what her voice sounded like, not even the colour of her hair or what school she went to. I could swear that we'd been dating for months now, but instead it's like she was just one big stupid fantasy.
"A fantasy that I woke up from yesterday morning thinking I'd gone on a nice Christmas date that ended after she'd turned into a stripper that stabbed me."
Yeah, that memory was particularly dark. I don't even remember getting out of bed that day. It's as if the whole thing was blacked out. "To be perfectly honest, I think I really did just dream up the whole thing and went crazy."
Sensei's gaze was full of understanding. Why? What did she understand that I didn't? I was just a dumb kid that did a dumb thing after a dumb dream. So why did she look at me as if she knew something that I was forgetting?
"Hikigaya, I can say with full confidence that that wasn't a dream."
Huh? What the hell were you talking about, sensei. Of course it was a dream. That woman had wings, you know? People don't grow wings in real life, you know?
"Personally, I think you're just suppressing those memories. Unfortunately, now that you've confirmed my suspicions, I have to leave it there while we go have a chat with someone. Any further information I can give you is really more her duty than mine, at this point."
Seriously, sensei, what the hell are you talking about? You make it seem like there's some kind of secret society out there controlling people's memories. Are you with the Men In Black, sensei? Do you know a Pug that can talk to aliens, sensei?
A knock on the door interrupted me before I could get any of the thousand questions burning holes in my brain to formulate into coherent sentences. Hiratsuka-sensei impatiently bade them to wait as she set about packing up her desk for the day. It seemed she was intent on having this chat with whoever right now.
She made no mention of a problem as I got up to follow her, so I guess I was invited along. Or maybe my presence was mandatory and I was just making her job easier for her.
Ah, so that's why they kept telling us to show initiative – it meant they didn't have to work as hard telling a bunch of idiots what to do.
As she marched towards the door, I took the opportunity to finally organise my thoughts into something resembling coherent questions. Of course, before I could manage to get them out of my mouth reality decided to turn on its head one more time.
Just for good measure.
Coming to a complete stop after the door rattled open, my face (and in particularly my nose) made a rather sudden collision with sensei's firm back. It would seem she packed quite a bit of muscle under that coat and suit. I never would have guessed. I tried to get a look around her to see what the hold-up was, but the tears in my eyes prevented me from getting much more than a blurry image of a girl.
"Ah, you're here. I was just about to bring him to you guys myself."
Apparently, sensei enjoyed speaking in a way that left me helplessly confused. Don't you always tell me to make the subject clear in my writing, sensei? Maybe you should practice what you preach instead of speaking in vague sentences that only make sense to the person you're talking to.
"Yes, I apologise. I was supposed to come pick him up immediately after homeroom, but I was delayed by my classmates. After that, it took a touch longer to find someone who could answer my question as to where he was. It seems you don't leave the greatest impression on your classmates, do you Hikigaya-kun?"
The girl leaned around Hiratsuka-sensei to smile at me, and as I finally blinked the tears out of my eyes I was struck dumb.
This really did make absolutely no sense. Standing before me in all of her glory was one of the two most popular ladies in all of Kuoh:
Himejima Akeno.
What the fuck?
