[Hikigaya Hachiman, 1st April, one year ago, 0750 hours]
Change is common, but not always positive. The world changes, and you change along with it. From mannerisms to perspective, change is readily embraced in many aspects, which is all well and good. For what is a person's worth, if not self improvement?
But most individuals strive to change blindly, improving themselves without the clear concept of "better" or "worse" in their minds. For shame. What does improvement even mean to you? That is one thing I have never understood and am more than happy to never understand. If you are willing to change your behaviour and ideals so easily, were you ever attached to them to begin with? These portions of your identity were never part of you in the first place, and constantly switching them out will not help anything.
Humans are detestable, selfish creatures: this is base nature that cannot be changed, like a predator's tendency to draw blood. Given half the chance they will not hesitate to reveal the avarice under all their farcical behaviour and just how far they are willing to go for the sake of personal benefit. It is with this belief that I shall enter high school, and with this belief that I will graduate from it. Unlike the shallow individuals who use the pretense of changing themselves to mask their genuine, disgusting selves, I will cling on to my ideals as if clinging on to my life.
And the world around me will never change them. In fact, when push comes to shove, my ideals will change the world around me.
I will make sure of that.
[Hikigaya Hachiman, 14th May (present day), 1350 hours]
Hiratsuka-sensei slammed my essay onto her desk, crumpling it by accident. She was playing with fire here. Who knew how offended I would have been if the essay had taken me more than fifteen minutes to write? I decided to be offended anyway.
"Hikigaya, what is this crap?"
As politely as she could manage, my homeroom teacher tried dominating the conversation with rhetorical questions. A classic tactic. This conversation looked to take a while, but I had a plan for that.
Step one: Anger her. "An essay, Sensei."
Something on the left side of her face twitched, not unlike a stroke patient's. "An essay degrading the concept of 'Youth'. Forgot your own age, did you? Or did one of your teachers piss you off?"
Step two: Fall back. "No. I'm sorry."
She blinked, stunned. "Would be great if you were, but that doesn't excuse you venting your anger on one of my assignments, you know. Can't you control your emotions?"
The intent of riling up an already furious adversary and then retreating immediately was, simply, to sow confusion. Upon the appearance of this opening in her psyche, the final step would be to gain her sympathy. Unfortunately, seated before me was a brute of a woman with emotional sensibilities to match. She wore a lab coat everywhere she went- disregarding weather, temperature, and her job as a Literature teacher. Her addictions to alcohol, cigarettes, and manga constantly grappled for dominance. In a sobering moment, I realised that gaining her sympathy was probably not worth the effort.
Step three: Plan was stupid to begin with, just do what you want. I shrugged. "One of the burdens of youth. I wouldn't expect you to understand-"
[Hikigaya Hachiman, 14th May, 1351 hours]
I stopped wheezing and crawled off the floor as Hiratsuka-sensei blew on her fist. Her fellow educators, some of which were seated within arms reach, stared pointedly at their desks. It was the most blatant case of 'Outside my pay grade' I had ever experienced, and probably the most painful too.
Having resorted to corporate punishment, you would expect her to be guilty enough to dismiss me and be done with it. Instead, she was looking at me with a contemplative expression: always a bad sign.
"Mid-life crisis?" I ventured. Another punch to the gut was worth distracting her from whatever heinous scheme she was plotting.
"Hikigaya, set aside the things you wrote in your essay. What do you truly think of our school?" she asked, completely disregarding my insult. She ignored me! The very thought of what she could be planning sent a chill down my spine.
"The teachers don't get paid enough." Giving politically correct answers was an art, especially towards Hiratsuka-sensei: with her, the boundaries around what should be called 'correct' tended to blur.
"Agreed, but I was asking for your thoughts on school life."
"I wouldn't know," I said, producing correct answer after correct answer. "I'm a loner and a problem child. If you want proper feedback, ask a normal student."
Her eyes hardened. "Don't give me that crap, Hikigaya. Do you really think a normal student would give me a proper answer?"
"No idea, Sensei. Never talked to one."
"I'll ask something else, then," she groaned, dramatically massaging her temple. "What do you think it takes to be a normal student?"
Leaving me standing at attention, she plopped down onto an office chair and leant forward onto its backrest, her glare never leaving. The other teachers in the staffroom, losing interest, turned their gazes back towards their desks.
"I guess you have to suck up to a lot of people," I said. I would have thrown in a shrug, if her face was further away. "Make friends. Bow down to authority figures. Work hard."
She was scanning me for signs of nervousness, but I knew there were none. "And what do you think you would gain by being a normal student?"
"Decent grades, a social life... maybe connections?"
"And you think it's not worth the effort."
"Yep."
How much was I willing to tell her, what tone I should use, what I was supposed to know already... These were all factors to be accounted for. Especially when talking to a teacher of this school. That was just the kind of environment we resided in.
"Why not?"
"I'm... not sure what you want me to say, Sensei."
Sensei let out a frustrated huff and shiftily scanned the room to see if anyone was paying attention. This all but confirmed my suspicions.
"If you want to have a conversation that can't be overheard, don't call me to the staff room, Sensei."
"They already know I don't like our school's system," she scoffed. "Probably explains my pay." Most likely out of habit, her fingers fumbled in a coat pocket for what I assumed was a pack of cigarettes before she remembered where she was and withdrew with an embarrassed cough.
"So it is true that even the teachers enforce it. Is it really okay for a teacher to give away information like that?"
She answered with a dismissive yet aggressive wave. "Nobody's listening now. Gimme your honest opinion."
In spite of myself, I felt my feet shuffle. "You asked me what it takes and what I gain by being a normal student. Work hard, suck up to others, and you'll do well. It's just like normal, isn't it?"
She narrowed her eyes. "You really think so."
"Yeah."
"The student body being split into social castes is normal?"
"It happens in real life too," I protested. "Just not as... explicitly."
All students were shuffled into five groups, succinctly named as such: S, A, B, C, and F. This grouping system was completely unofficial, yet perfectly ironclad; naturally, all comings and goings were dictated by the members of the most glorified strata, Group S. If they deemed you unworthy of your standing, you were demoted. Clear and simple.
"What about having your grades defined by your caste?" She jabbed at me with a pen. "The amount of studying doesn't even matter. Can't imagine that you're doing too well, mm? And you tell me that's not messed up?"
Incidentally, I was in Group F.
"Wouldn't be doing so well even without the system, Sensei," I smiled like a cherub.
"Get that gross look off your face. And I know it means nothing to a loner like you, which is nothing to be proud of, but not being allowed to hang out with people in a higher caste is wrong. Seriously."
"It's just like real life, though," I retorted. "People with higher social standing decide how much time to give you, not the other way around."
The true backbone of this system lay with the fact that students required recommendations from students in higher-up groups to be promoted. Naturally, this led to favours and tributes being flung around, a setting reminiscent of a corrupt political ecosystem.
In other words, just like real life. Just like normal.
Over the course of our conversation, the staff room had emptied itself. Lunch break was drawing to a close. Noticing this, Hiratsuka-sensei reflexively reached into her pocket for her cigarettes again, before remembering my presence and once again correcting herself, swearing under her breath. As she sat there in the middle of the staffroom, struggling with quite a few things, I thought she looked a bit lonely.
"Hey, Hikigaya. Doesn't it piss you off?"
I hesitated. "It shouldn't. Do you think the system is wrong?"
"Of course."
"But society is exactly the same."
"Society is society. This is high school."
With a flick of her wrist, a cigarette materialised between her fingers. She had given in to one thing, it seemed. A lighter appeared in her other hand.
"This is a time for you all to enjoy your youth. To study hard for exams that don't really matter, spend time in clubs, and find love somewhere."
Click, click, puff.
"That's what they're all doing anyway," I said.
Even within the hazy cloud of nicotine-induced euphoria, her eyes were sharp and pointed straight at mine.
"You believe it? That they're having the time of their lives?"
"Of course."
Sensei scoffed. "Don't lie. Why did you write that essay, then?"
"Because it's true. Youth is an illusion, and all those who prescribe to the concept are selfish individuals who would rather engage in fake relationships and lives than face their own ugliness. They-"
"You're bitter."
This sudden accusation caught me off guard. "Excuse me?"
She was standing now, not losing her glare on me. Even amidst her agitated speech, the smoke was unleashed from her mouth in timely, controlled bursts.
"You go ham on your peers for being 'fake', but accept this phony system as 'normal' because it's the same as society. You're gonna tell me that the members of society aren't selfish people who engage in fake relationships and lives? What the hell is up with that? Make up your mind, kiddo."
"That's..."
"Youth isn't an illusion, Hikigaya," Sensei growled. "It's an ideal. And this school has taken too many steps away from that ideal."
She slammed a hand on her desk for emphasis, "We need to destroy this rotten system."
I looked up, slightly dazed. Calling upon an errant student to share her displeasure toward the system with a kindred spirit was one thing, but this...
"Is that something a beneficiary of the system should be saying?"
"I won't deny that this is a dangerous game to play, Hikigaya. But I need your strength."
The teacher sitting before me seemed nothing like her usual self. Gone was the slightly hotheaded Modern Japanese Literature teacher who wore a labcoat to every lesson. This woman had eyes that burned.
Genuine, honest-to-God resolution. It had been a long time since I last saw that. Resolution that could topple empires and move mountains.
Resolution that I did not have. With a sense of growing dread, I tried to weasel my way out. "Um, well... I'd love to, but the two of us can't do anything by ourselves..."
"Who said it was the two of us? I have an entire student organisation ready to set this school straight."
An entire student organisation? Rebelling against Sobu High's twisted system? I stood up just a little straighter. "Sensei. Let me join, please."
[Hikigaya Hachiman, 14th May, 1400 hours]
When secretly plotting a large-scale rebellion against a large and powerful organisation, where would be the best place to set up your base of operations? Common sense would dictate either a highly protected area or a place well out of the organisation's reach. However, I had long realised that Hiratsuka-sensei and common sense went together like Japanese Literature and Shounen Manga. So when we stopped in front of a clubroom and she presented it to me with a flourish, I wasn't exactly surprised.
"Of all the places you could have chosen for your base-"
"-But we haven't been discovered yet, have we? Sometimes hiding in plain sight is the best move you can make," she replied, grinning triumphantly. Before I could retort, she slid the door open violently.
I steeled myself internally. Inside this clubroom were the students that were to become my comrades. Highly capable individuals that had the talent to topple an entire school and the resolution to go with it. The team that I would be staking my ideals, my entire existence on. Mentally bracing myself, I peered into the room.
The first thing I saw was a girl. Seated on a chair, with her school bag placed neatly to the side, she was reading a book. Wind from outside entered through the clubroom window and gently tugged at her long, flowing raven-black hair. It was a surreal image, the kind you would usually see in a work of art.
The second thing I saw was...
...well, that was it.
I turned to Hiratsuka-sensei. "Where's your organisation?"
She grinned and spread her arms out. "Behold, the Service Club! A club formed to assist members of the student body with their various social issues... well, that's what it is on paper anyway."
The girl who had been wearing an irritated expression on her face only found her irritation intensifying as Sensei slung an arm around her shoulder.
"But in actuality," Hiratsuka-sensei continued, trying and failing to imitate the narrator of a Shounen anime, "This club is a secret rebellious organisation, formed with the aim of taking down Sobu High's twisted system!" To top off all her ridiculous antics, she broke out into a wide grin.
The girl sighed in exasperation. "Knock, Sensei. And don't reveal our cause to outsiders so easily. We cannot afford to be caught by the authorities."
Who was this girl? She had good looks and seemingly superior intellect to all the students of our school. She seemed like the type of student who would be extremely popular among her peers. And yet, I had never seen her in any of the popular cliques before.
She turned to me. "You are Hikigaya Hachiman, correct? From Group F."
Oh crap, she knows me. How does she know me? How do I tell her that I have absolutely no idea who she is?
As if reading my mind, she flicked her long black hair in a somewhat smug manner. "My name is Yukinoshita Yukino, from class 2-J. You shouldn't have heard of me, as I am in Group F as well."
Group F?
By the look of her dignified posture, she was probably a sheltered daughter from a rich family and could have easily paid her way up the social ladder. Why was she at rock bottom?
Oh, right. Rebelling against the system. Completely forgot about that.
Yukinoshita continued, "I memorised the names of all the Group F students for scouting purposes. As individuals who suffer the brunt of the system's backlash, they would be the most suitable as allies. I've had my sights on you for quite a while, Hikigaya-kun."
"I scouted him first!" Hiratsuka-sensei cheered. By silent consensus, we ignored her.
"Yeah... okay. Speaking of allies, how many of those do we have?"
Awkward silence reigned in the classroom for about half a minute, before Yukinoshita broke it with a cough. "The club comprises two of us, for the moment," she stated with a level of regality you would usually find in royalty, as if she had nothing to be embarrassed about.
To be honest, I should have expected something like this. Why did I believe that there was a rebellious student organisation willing to and capable of revolutionising my beloved school? Because Hiratsuka-sensei said so. In retrospect, that point was where I should have stopped thinking and thrown in the towel.
"I'm going home," I announced to the world in general, before heading for the door. A crushing iron grip landed on my shoulder, appealing to my baser instincts. Against the direction of my mind, my body stayed.
"Oh no, you don't," leered Hiratsuka-sensei. "You agreed to join, remember?"
"I concur," sighed Yukinoshita with the tone of one who clearly wished she didn't. "We cannot guarantee that you will not leak information about us to anyone from Group S."
"I agreed to join a sizable revolutionary organisation," I snapped. "And why would anyone from Group S bother to deal with the likes of you? Don't delude yourself. Your 'organisation' is way too insignificant to warrant any attention from a bunch of popular kids with their own set of problems!"
"That would be true, but only if the Group S students were our only enemies," Yukinoshita interpolated. "Even the teachers pose little threat to us. However, I believe that there is a more significant adversary behind this system."
That caught my attention. "A larger enemy? You mean the student council?"
"No, although they are a part of Sobu High's system as well. As you might know, the student council is in charge of school events and club funds, all of which are delegated in a way that favours students at the top. However, don't you find it strange that all its members are only in Group A?"
Indeed. It can't be helped, but that would attract quite a bit of suspicion. "Well, come to think of it..."
"Hikigaya-kun, I believe that there is an individual working behind the scenes. Unlikely as it seems, he may well be manipulating the Group S students, the teachers and the Student Council simultaneously. That person is the source of Sobu High's detestable system, and he is the enemy that we must take down in order to restore our school."
Yukinoshita punctuated her outrageous declaration with a resolute nod.
Frankly speaking, I was dumbfounded to the point of silence. All I could manage was a feeble croak. "A mastermind?"
Yukinoshita straightened abruptly and held her hand out to me. "I have studied you for a while now, Hikigaya-kun. While the way you solve problems is far from... commendable, I cannot deny that you have the skillset this organisation needs. Will you lend me your strength?"
I stared at the proffered hand wordlessly, my mind desperately trying to catch up. A mastermind behind the system? She had inferred all of that by herself by simply observing her surroundings? Compared to her, I felt vastly inferior; despite priding myself on my observational skills and having all the time to do so, I had allowed all these things to fly by my head. What was the difference between her and me?
Gazing upwards, I caught a glimpse of the hardened chips of sapphire that were her eyes. Behind a wall of cool collection, her pupils blazed with fiery determination, much like Hiratsuka-sensei's had just minutes prior. Perhaps the answer to my question was not all that difficult to find.
This was what I lacked; the resolution to adhere to my ideals and my warped sense of justice, even if it meant changing the world around me and preventing anyone else from changing it back.
But before I ventured into this dangerous territory, the question of whether it was worth my time remained. I stuck my hands in my pockets.
Step one: Anger her. "What's the point of all this? You're just a spoiled girl who can't fit in."
"You're the same," she calmly rebutted. "I was hoping we could understand each other. Are you willing to sit by and be a bystander to this repulsively unjust environment?"
Step two: Fall back. "Aren't all those people fine where they are? Don't fix what's not broken, that's my motto."
Yukinoshita frowned. "Is that so? I was under the impression that you were resentful towards-"
Step three: Ground her spirit to dust.
"Now, now. Don't force your petty desires on me," I sneered. 'Not everyone can afford to feel anger at every sliver of injustice in the world. You're from a rich family, aren't you? You grew up financially supported; pampered, even. That in itself is a textbook case of injustice."
"Ridiculous," she retorted. "That is a circumstance I have no power to change-"
"And this isn't?" I gleefully pressed on.
I could clearly see the logical inconsistencies in my arguments, if they could even be called arguments. What was important here was that she couldn't. Sophism is a form of logic, just like how tomatoes are a kind of vegetable.
"It's all the same in the end," I said. "While it is true that you shouldn't assume you can't do something before you try, you shouldn't assume you can do something just because you haven't tried either. As for me, I just want to live my life doing the things I know I can do and knowing what I can do based on what I have done already. Stuff like justice simply doesn't fit into the equation. Am I wrong?"
"I suppose I cannot say you are," she sighed.
Had she been thrown off by my sudden refusal, or cowed into submission, I would not have been surprised. People are, ultimately, all the same-
I blinked. The flame in her eyes had not faltered.
"But then you will never change anything," Yukinoshita said, "And you will never save anyone."
Once again she extended her hand towards me, as if she knew I would take it.
...It seems I have a lot to learn from this girl.
"That's a good answer," I remarked, taking her hand. With this, my fate was sealed.
"Welcome to the Service Club, Hikigaya-kun."
[Hikigaya Hachiman, 14th May, 1600 hours]
Indeed, what I have been lacking all this while is resolve. Even though I convinced myself that I would not give in to my surroundings, I ended up giving in to my own negligence and passivity. For the past year or so, my will to stick to my ideals to the very end has been fading continuously. It's just been so tiring to keep this charade up this whole time...
But now, I have a rival. A girl with determination that far exceeds mine. And assuredly I will not rest until I have pitted my resolve against hers and emerged the victor. Through the pretence of being her only ally, this is my will against hers. My ideals against hers. My existence against hers.
That's right, Sensei. For all your big talk about hiding in plain sight, you're just an amateur, aren't you?
Yukinoshita, you ignorant fool. The mastermind that you're looking for...
...is me.
END OF CHAPTER 1
Author's note: If you're back for the first time in years (yes, I'm sorry) and thinking that this feels different from when you first read it, you're right. I changed it recently (2022). I'm sorry to say the old version is gone forever, but the consolation is that I only embellished the content without removing anything. Enjoy.