Chapter 17: "Clash of the Titans"

Fox.

According to Merriam Webster, it could be defined as "any of various carnivorous mammals of the dog family related to but smaller than wolves with shorter legs, more pointed muzzle, large erect ears, and long bushy tail."

Simplified: the sneaky bastards were (commonly) orange furballs with legs, that trotted across the countryside as if they owned the place. They were large vermin; an annoyance to any complex agrarian society.

You can't trust a fox. Hell, they looked like dogs, but sounded like cats! This was proof that they were duplicitous right down to their genetic level, as evidenced by their conniving phenotype.

They were famous for stealing livestock and food from unaware farmers. They'll steal two chickens in front of you, and then a third when you're not looking. When you come searching for your lost property, you'll be relieved to find those two lost chickens. Blissfully unaware of your net loss, and none the wiser that one of your birds was being gouged out by a smug fox somewhere in the forest.

Their ability to evade hunters had driven the value of their fur sky high. To catch a fox was a feat. But good luck with that. Their tunnels were burrows complex enough to give the Japanese train system a run for its money, with multiple openings and exits that lead who knows where. Foxes always had back up plans. They were always scheming. Foxes made sure to profit at the end of conflict, even if they lost. A victory in defeat.

In mythology and culture they were shown as clever and deceptive. Foxes manipulated the foolish with almost comic grace. And just like in real life, they were crafty. Their plans were elaborate, yet daring and bold. All the while allowing them to achieve their objective.

My theory? The fox was a symbol of three main characteristics:

Calculating, finding clever and unique methods to problems to better humiliate your prey. Constantly be making new circuitous operations such to keep your mind busy, and your opponent's mind numb from attempting to keep up.

Deceptive, they'll fool your senses first, then fool your reasoning next, before finally fooling your body. Not a single thing can be trusted at face value with foxes.

Manipulative, able to turn the tides of the people around you to do the hard work so you can swoop in and claim the prize with no effort.

And I could think of no better person who fit this description than the girl standing in my doorway while staring dumbly at my face: my foxy ex-kouhai, Isshiki Iroha.

"Yeah?" I asked, my brief word came out nearly like a bark.

Isshiki looked at my face, blushed and immediately bowed. "P-pardon me! I must have the wrong apartment, I'm so sorry for disturbing you."

I felt compelled to close the door, if only to save myself from being embarrassed by proxy. When the door clicked shut, I heard the sound of Isshiki breathing deeply on the other side, as if she had just resurfaced from a deep dive.

My phone buzzed as I got a text message from the girl in question.

SENPAIIII (●o≧д≦)o! Did you really send me the right apartment number!? I can't believe you thought it was necessary to lie to me! How could you!? ( ͒˃̩̩⌂˂̩̩ ͒)

This had to be a crime somewhere. Can someone charge this girl for exclamation-point abuse? [1] Throw her into solitary confinement while you're at it.

I opened the door and meet with a flinching brunette. "This IS my apartment."

"... Senpai…?"

"Yes?"

She peered at me as if she was nearsighted, eyes squinting as I'm analyzed like some sort of lab specimen.

"... Senpai always had potential, but his density and laziness hid it. But that's good, it means less competition. But he's unlocked it with just glasses and a haircut? No way. Were my calculations all wrong?"

Rapid whispered underneath her breathe made it impossible to fully comprehend what she was saying. No matter.

"Oi, Isshiki, you coming in or not? And what's wrong with you?"

Isshiki shook her head. "No, Senpai just looks different."

"Yeah well, just trying something new."

"I like it!"

I stepped aside to let her into my apartment, where she was immediately greeted by an irate Yukinoshita.

"Isshiki-san, you're the last to arrive despite me giving you clear instructions." Chided Yukinoshita with arms akimbo.

"Ah! Yukinoshita-senpai! Welcome back to Japan." Isshiki ignored the lecture without the slightest concern and quickly flasheD a gigawatt smile and hugged Yukinoshita tightly, much to the older girl's surprise and embarrassment.

Indeed, Isshiki was the late comer to my impromptu (to me) party. The guest list was pretty stacked. Besides us three, Komachi, Yuigahama, Shizuka, Chief Tsurumi, and Rumi were in attendance as well.

Komachi had mentioned that our parents had wanted to come, but they were given emergency business trips at the same time. The astronomical odds of his happening go beyond bad luck, and my heart went out for my poor mother and father. But alas, such is the life of corporate slaves. Sucks to be them.

… wait, didn't I work crazy overtime hours too!? I'm no better than them!

To rid myself of this depressing epiphany I decided to find something to distract myself.

"Komachi-chan!"

"Iroha-chan!"

Isshiki and Komachi greeted each other warmly and shared a hug before quickly shooting off into their own world of conversation. The two somehow became close friends over the years. Isshiki had taken a year off after graduating high school to work in order to pay for her college schooling. She and Komachi were enrolled in the same college and business program and somehow became best friends while I wasn't looking.

I mentally prayed that Komachi has the strength to deal with the vixen.

I milled around the apartment, talking to friends and family at a sedate pace. I tried to be mindful that I had to be a good host; grabbing them refills when their cups were empty; throwing out trash for them; and making sure they were having fun… or rather as much fun as someone can have when you're playing.…

"Tut tu ru!" [2] Exclaimed Komachi as she held up a box. "It's time to play some games!"

As she spun around like a ballerina, my eyes caught the red object in her hands. "A Nintendo Switch with Mario Kart as my birthday present to my favorite Onii-chan!"

"I'm your only Onii-chan!"

"Yes, yes!" Komachi ignored me and looked over at the gathered guests. "Did everyone bring their joycons?"

Surprisingly, Iroha, Rumi, and Shizuka did. They held up their controllers with faces of pride and anticipation.

Why did I feel like they practiced exactly for this moment?

As my little sister and Iroha got to work setting up the video game console, I felt myself breaking out into a cold sweat. A cursory glance at the Chief had us share similar concerned expressions.

"Hikigaya-kun?" Yukinoshita asked as she came up to me. "Why do you look so worried?"

Oh yeah, she's a sheltered rich girl. She wouldn't understand our fears.

"As you may know, Yukinoshita-san." I began, my voice dripping with gravitas. "Nintendo may be the pride of Japan and a golden example of quality and innovation to the world, all the while being family-friendly… but they hide a sinister agenda."

"Sinister… agenda?"

"Yes… you see Nintendo's wish — no, Ultimate Goal — is to turn everyone in the world into loners. Loners who will buy and play their games, starting an addiction where video games replace the friends that you lost."

"..."

Their party games were designed to thrive on random chance and cruel decisions. To win you must steal items from your friends, a permanent black mark on camaraderie you had developed. [3]

A couple madly in love would separate because the choice over who should be sacrificed to proceed would drag feelings of selfishness out of them. Destroying the compromise the relationship was built on. [4]

A 10 year, rock-solid marriage fell apart because of miscommunication and poor instructions while they tried to run a virtual restaurant. Now suddenly aware that they never truly had chemistry. [5]

The player at the back of the pack would get a blue shell that ruined the perfect race that 1st place player was running. Stealing away victory when it was so close at hand. Forever instilling a grudge that carried on into the grave and then the afterlife. A curse to forever haunt future generations [6]

"And that is why… I worry." I finished.

Yukinoshita gave me a look as if I was the smallest, most disgusting bug in the world.

"Absolutely incurable." Was her only response as she turned and walked towards the couch, where the rest of the guests were gathering for a night of family-fun gaming.

… or so I hoped anyway.

The games began soon after, and the Chief and I shared another look before coming to a silent agreement: we would lose to ensure that the firecracker women in the vicinity did not blow the apartment to kingdom-come, or turned it into a crime scene with chalk outlines on the floor.

Yukinoshita struggled to understand the controls and mechanics of Mario Kart during her first heat. But as expected, an intense look came to her face as she wrestled with her joycons, her competitive streak showing. It seemed Shizuka and Komachi did indeed practice, learning the optimal racing line for all the tracks, getting ludicrous lap-times.

Isshiki strategically held onto items, using them at the perfect moment to destroy the race for those behind her. I was once subject to her using a Bullet Bill when I was right in front of her. It was a rare top 5 position for me… before the fox did her deed. I had wanted to stop playing then and there. However, I understood that the cruel god known as Mario-Kart-kami needed a sacrifice if the peace was to be kept.

Surprisingly, Yuigahama was the one who had won the first heat, her luck with items giving her an advantage that led to her just inching past Shizuka and Komachi for first place.

The second heat was a fearsome battle between Komachi and Shizuka. The newly minted house-wife had barely beaten out Komachi in points before the final race, where Komachi missed a boost-pad by just a sliver of a pixel and was instantly sent to 8th place. I did my duty as her Onii-chan and consoled her as she cried into my shoulder as the jingle for her receiving second place in the championship played patronizingly throughout the room.

However, no one noticed the dark horse, Yukinoshita Yukino, who had steadily crept up positions since her first race. After the second heat she was solidly in third place. Yukinoshita had learned the maneuvers and strategies her opponent employed, and had gained experience in how they were used in the fiercest of competition.

She was ready.

And the short age of Ice Queen domination came upon this small apartment in residential Shibuya with the final three heats. Every corner she took? Absolutely perfect. Every drift? Never off its optimal length exactly 10 pixels off the curb. Items? Used to greatest of effect. She was like a wall.

No, she was THE WALL.

THE WALL that knew you better than you knew yourself; blocking any and all attempts to pass or catch her slipstream. Every win was accompanied by a tiny fist bump of sweet victory that I couldn't help but crack a smile at. It was just that adorable.

As if channeling the spirit of Ayrton Senna, Yukinoshita showed us how superior she really was in her fourth heat. She was part of another caste. Made of different stuff. A higher being. She saw God when she drove in the game, letting us heathens hear the Gospel as her kart came to lap us in due time. [7]

The last race of that heat was on Rainbow Road. The Ice Queen took no prisoners as she finished 30 seconds faster than her nearest rival, Hiratsuka. The loss was especially vexing for the older woman, who had boasted ahead of time that that dangerous circuit was as familiar to her as her own hometown.

"She didn't just want to beat me! She wanted to humiliate me!" Roared Shizuka through tears of anger into her husband's shoulder. [8]

"Doesn't she get embarrassed when she says lines like that?" Rumi whispered to me.

"Don't question it if you value your life." I whispered back.

Shizuka turned up the oppression in the fifth heat, goading Yukinoshita with words in real life. She was trying to throw the cool, calm, and collected example of nobility off of her game. My living room had become a battlefield where libel was slung instead of bullets. The tension had become so thick that I could see the aura of their fighting spirits clashing above their heads, accompanied with metaphysical lightning.

Unfortunately, Shizuka hadn't calculated one thing in her game plan to mentally crush her former student: Yukinoshita Yukino's tongue was eve sharper than her driving.

She ruthlessly cut down Hiratsuka-sensei in a gruesome verbal massacre.

"Hiratsuka-sensei, please remember that you only recently got married after nearly two decades of being single. I'm surprised you have not learned some lady-like tact and sensibility from all that experience."

"Are you unable to act your age?"

"Aren't you ashamed that all the friends you have are younger than you?"

"Do you use us as a means to vicariously and foolishly believe you are our age?"

"You determine your own self worth using a video game? How pathetic."

Shizuka was a crying mess by the end, indistinguishable from a wailing banshee as she sobbed to her husband that those words weren't true. Right? RIGHT? I ignored the panicked look in the Chief's eyes. He had bomb defusal training, I'm sure. I was confident the experienced officer could handle the situation. I saluted in my head: godspeed, sir.

At that moment, the angel known as Yuigahama Yui descended from the heavens and tried to ease the tension.

"W-well!" She exclaimed, loudly clapping her hands once to get our attention. She stood with a nervous smile. "How about we eat dinner? I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving!"

No one disagreed.

Dinner seemed to bring everyone's mood back as conversation began to trickle once the food was spread out. The Chief was talking amicably with Komachi, which wasn't surprising since he tends to dote on girls, a trait he and the Captain shared (guess it ran in the family?). Komachi could get along with anyone, but she seemed to really enjoy the Chief's company, almost seeing him as an uncle.

Yuigahama seemed especially surprised to see Rumi. As expected, Yuigahama's straightforward personality was too much for Rumi to handle and the anti-social teenager receded into her shell like a frightened turtle confronted by a curious puppy. Yuigahama tried to make conversation but was only to be met with a poker faced Rumi. On the outside, she may seem aloof and uncaring, but in reality she was a panicking mess whose brain was desperately trying to find a way to deal with the situation. I tried not to laugh at the sight, aware that Rumi would hold it against me for a while.

Shizuka, Yukinoshita, and Isshiki were discussing the job market. Isshiki surprisingly had a good grasp of economics and the politics surrounding it. The talk attracted the attention of Yuigahama who excitedly asked Shizuka for advice, as the former student was trying to become a teacher as well. Shizuka seemed elated at the news of Yuigahama's career path, and eagerly gave detailed advice as well as some underhanded tips.

Everyone was catching up. Like a biological database, the statuses and conditions of these acquaintances were updated over a single meal. It was a delicious affair, with people flanking either side of me, engaged in lively conversations. I was suddenly glad I had an appropriately sized table.

It made me recall when I had first moved into Shibuya a few years ago. I was shopping for furniture to fill the empty apartment with. My mother had come along, citing her unease at me leaving Chiba in its entirety. She wanted to ensure that at least my living situation was decent. When I went to select a small circular table to place in the dining area, she quickly stopped me and insisted that I should get a dining table that could fit at least eight people.

"That's stupid." I had said. "Why do I need something that excessive?"

"Don't you need a place to put your friends and family when they come to visit?" Was Mom's innocent response.

I scoffed at her. "Me? Friends? People coming over? Me? People? Fat chance."

My mother puffed her cheeks in a similar way Komachi did when she was going to be exceedingly stubborn. I gave up and agreed to buy the table, knowing there was no way I was going to win that argument. And here I was, nearly four years after that purchase, the table filled to the brim with food, drinks, friends, family and…

"I hope you realize that you don't need my permission to start eating." Yukinoshita's voice cut through and interrupted my thoughts.

… yeah. Her.

"You're right. Sorry."

I dug into my meal with gusto, finding it strange that I could have moments like this at all. I couldn't have imagined it in my wildest dreams. Somewhere deep inside me, a little voice was saying that this was all just an illusion and couldn't possibly be happening. Especially to someone like me. It wasn't loud, but an occasionally murmur I heard when I looked for it. But I could ignore it. At least for tonight.

The night wore on and the meal progressed with appetizers leading into entrees. Each was expertly crafted by Yukinoshita. She had assured everyone at the table that Yuigahama had no role in the cooking process, so it was safe to eat.

"YUKINON, YOU'RE SO MEAN!"

Everyone raved about the duck confit, and honestly? They were right. This should be illegal. [9]

We all pretended to ignore Shizuka, who had curled up on the couch after eating her dinner. Yukinoshita had taken the opportunity to remind the poor woman of the recent gaming session. Shizuka was murmuring sadly about her loss with teary eyes while holding a bottle of beer in her hands. Apparently she had brought some over as a gift, but helped herself when the despair was too strong. By all means, go right ahead Sensei. I'd rather you drink it if it means the rest of us could keep our lives.

Finally, the cake was revealed, a double layered tiramisu masterpiece. Yukinoshita said that she knew my preference for cafe flavors, and tried experimenting. Everyone was impressed and quickly started dividing the cake into slices. We had made the mistake of letting Yuigahama hack at it with the knife, leading to uneven portions being served with an awkward and embarrassed smile from the resident airhead. Stay strong, Yuigahama, stay strong.

Part way through my own slice, I realized an inconsistency. "How did you know that my favorite coffee flavor was mocha?"

Yukinoshita's face faintly turnt red and she started fiddling with her hair. "Komachi-chan had made me privy to such information… a few days ago."

"Huh." I felt violated to a certain extent, Komachi was leaking a lot of personal info about me lately.

The party finally comes to an end. Yuigahama had work, so she couldn't stay behind. Isshiki had left during the middle of dessert, her father having come to pick her up. It being a school night for Rumi, the Tsurumis said that they should head back at a reasonable time. Komachi was sleeping over at my place, so it was only her and Yukinoshita staying behind to clean up the apartment. I had tried to help, but the duo had made it clear that I should relax on my birthday.

I went to the balcony and revelled in the cool, late summer breeze as I appreciated the iconic Tokyo skyline. Lights adorned the skyscrapers that soared into the dark night sky. Passenger jets passed overhead, the tips of their wings pulsing with red lights as they readied to land at the airport. Shibuya was landlocked, but from this height I could just catch a glimpse of the bay and it's gentle waves that reflected the city that sat atop it. I heard footsteps besides me, and Yukinoshita came out onto the balcony, leaning on the guardrail as she looked out over the distance.

"It's beautiful." She breathed pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear and holding it with a hand as the wind flew through it.

"It is." I agreed with a small smile as I focused on Tokyo Tower, a spire of steel rose above all the rest. The iconic landmark was covered in red and white lights that seemingly illuminated the entire city with its presence alone. "It took a while to get used to, all the lights and sounds… and all the people. But I began to appreciate how alive the city felt. I especially liked the coziness of Shibuya. It's a little pocket of quiet suburban peace in the busy metropolis."

"Is that so?" Yukinoshita responded. "I enjoy it at as well. It reminds me of the neighborhood around my townhouse in England. The weather was quite gloomy, and the way they bound books was strange, but all the houses and streets are close together and within walking distance. It was also diverse in ethnicities, and so the food was also…"

Her words trailed off, and I looked over to find her staring at me with accusatory glare. "Speaking of food, I vividly remember you declaring that tomatoes were poisonous in high school, and you swore them off like the plague. But you ate the cherry tomatoes in the meal tonight just fine."

"That right?" I said sheepishly as I scratched my cheek. "Everything tasted pretty good when I got back from Sri Lanka, even tomatoes. I can't really bring myself to hate them on sight anymore."

"..." Yukinoshita went silent.

"Maybe I realized the value of food … after it was such a precious thing in a warzone. Modern life is pretty amazing, you know? All this food we can buy so cheaply and quickly. I still can't get used to throwing away food haha… ha." My awkward laughter at the end did little to disperse the tension.

"In S-Sri Lanka…" Yukinoshita hesitated before continuing, levelling cautious blue eyes at my own. They seemed to glow in the night. "How did the food taste?"

My eyes widened at the unexpected question and I wracked my mind trying to find an answer. "Well… it was interesting to say the least."

Sri Lanka was right next to India, and historically benefitted from the spice trade. The Tamil Kings were a strong group of merchants on the southern tip of the Indian peninsula. This diffused spices throughout the SEA region, with Sri Lanka's cooking essentially having its entire basis on it.

Curry to them was almost all encompassing: anything with meat and vegetables in a spiced gravy. And their curry was very different from Japanese curry. The aroma was potent, and made mouths water with that alone. Which was kind of amazing if you thought about it. It had bold and intense flavors, way stronger than Japanese curry. But it still had complexity even as you kept eating. It didn't numb your tongue with all those ingredients or seasoning. Harmonious bombastic flavor.

Rice was their staple grain as well, except their breed of rice was longer and more stiff. They also had this circular flatbread called 'roti.' It was basically eaten with everything. Versatile and easy to carry, roti was given to the working men in the fields for their midday meal.

There was this village I was stationed at, called Pandura where they were known for their picked vegetables or 'malay achcharu.'

"This guy, a pickle master, offered me some of his brine spice blend. Said if I ate it, would cure my cold. I put it in my mouth and nearly died because of all the coughing and tearing eyes." I recount a story to Yukinoshita. "Apparently a variation of this mix had been used by the United States riot police for anti-personal sprays."

Yukinoshita begins laughing and I quickly berate her. "It's not funny! I really thought my life was over!"

She just laughs harder, wrapping her arms around her body in an attempt to mitigate the racking of her body at her laughs. Seeing this made my lips twitch upward and I found myself laughing as well.

As our laughter dies out, Yukinoshita speaks to me as she dries a tear. "They seemed like fun people."

"They were." I agreed. "They were good people. I was humbled by how they lived their simple and rural lives. No conveniences, but no complications. It was… peaceful."

We fall into silence, simply enjoying one another's company as we gazed over Tokyo. Another gentle rush of air flowed over us and for a moment, all was still.

"Onii-chan!" Yelled out Komachi from inside the apartment, destroying the tranquility. "I'm done washing the dishes! Where are the futons and covers!?"

"They're inside the hallway closet near my room!" I hollered back. "Bottom shelf!"

"Ok! And— oh! Yukino-san is sleeping over as well right!?"

Yukinoshita's face turned red and she looked between Komachi and I in a panic.

I sighed before answering over my shoulder. "Yeah sure, it's fine!"

"Thank you for the hospitality." Yukinoshita thanked me with a strange expression.

"What are you saying? This is the first time you imposed on me."

"No." She shookher head. "It's been all this time."

I kept silent, unsure of how to respond. Unsure of what she meant. Or I think I was. I just didn't want to assume.

"And..." She reaches into her cardigan's pocket and pulls out a small black box. "Happy Birthday, Hikigaya-kun."

I took the box and opened it carefully to find a watch inside. It was simple and elegant, a black and silver device with tiny jewels on the watch face. There was only a single clock that was accented with silver hands. The strap was this frosted black metal that felt cold to the touch. My hands brushed over the Bulova logo. [10]

I'm shocked for a moment, but I quickly regained my bearings. I shut the box and returned it to Yukinoshita. "I can't accept this. It must have cost a fortune," I said hurriedly.

"Nonsense!" Yukinoshita pushed back with surprising force. "It's not just from me… it's a gift from all of the Yukinoshita's. Besides we engraved your name into the back already."

"... O-okay."

I reluctantly retrieved the gift and opened it up once more. Yukinoshita urged me with her eyes to try it on. I wrapped it around my left wrist and was surprised at how well it fit. It didn't look that out of place either.

"Why are you wearing it that way?" Yukinoshita looked confused when I tilted the watch so that the face was at the bottom of my wrist, on the side of my palm.

"Oh, uh... old habit from the military." I explained, twisting my wrist this way and that. "Made it easier to tell time when I was holding a rifle."

"I see…"

"Hey… Yukinoshita? Thanks for the gift."

"You're quite welcome." Yukinoshita granted me a rare tender smile with her delicate pink lips that made my heart skip a beat. "Good night, Hikigaya-kun."

"Yeah… goodnight."

As I laid in bed trying to fall asleep, thoughts about Sri Lanka race through my mind. Talking with Yukinoshita sort of made me remember that not all of it was bad. I was reliving the memories… but not the bad kind. Memories of the people I had met. The taste of the food they cooked. The sight of the work they did in the fields and fishing on boats in the rivers. The sound of the music they played and the songs they sang.

The nature of trust is a strange beast, but it had to do with sharing memories.

I think.

Most people didn't understand it, but revealing your past to someone was like removing your armor before them. You had given them the tools to strike your weaknesses directly; the ability to deeply hurt you, should they wish. They knew all your insecurities and fears. They became aware of all the things that had ruined you. From a logical point of view, it was a frightening prospect. Trust was risk, and to risk was to trust.

Then…

Trust was most likely the ability to tell one another stories of their pasts without fearing that it would be used against you. Unconditionality.

Ergo: I would say, that by this definition, I trusted Yukinoshita Yukino.

Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"

References

[1] A parody of the "comma- abuse." It's a joke among professional editors regarding newbie writers under their purview who use commas too often and in places where it's unnecessary. It's considered one of the first hurdles needed to be completed by newly minted writers who are attached to a publisher.

[2] Mayushi's characteristic greeting from Steins;Gate

[3] Mario Party

[4] Mario Party

[5] Overcooked

[6] Mario Kart

[7] Ayrton Senna was a Brazilian Formula 1 racing driver, and widely considered to be the greatest driver of all time, even after his death in 1994. Senna had miraculously won the Brazilian Grand Prix of 1991, considered an impossible feat because he managed to keep his lead despite his car's gearbox making him unable to use anything but the 6th gear, and he was caught in terrible rain. When asked what happened, he said "I visualized. I saw God."

[8] Reference to a line said by Formula 1 driver, Alain Prost, after the Monaco Grand Prix of 1988. Where his rival, Ayrton Senna, had been ahead of him by nearly 1 minute at some point in the race. It should be noted that one second was considered a large gap in Formula 1, and so a minute was basically an eternity. Considering that the two were considered the greatest drivers in the world at the time and were driving the same cars, Prost took Senna's behavior as showboating: an attempt to disgrace Prost. Senna would later crash in that race with only a handful of laps to go, a devastating end to an unbelievable race. Prost would cross the finish line in first place.

[9] In an episode of American Iron Chef, the secret ingredient was duck. Bobby Flay had made an amazing duck confit that one of the judges had said "was cheating" because, if made right, nothing can top it. Bobby Flay went on to win that match by a landslide. The largest point difference between the dishes was, of course, the duck confit.

[10] This watch is part of the Classique series and is custom made. It's worth is about $800 USD.

Author's Note:

This chapter was delayed because I had worked on creating a 3D CG render of Hachiman's Shibuya Apartment. You can find the on the SpaceBattles "Unmade" landing page. Many thanks to TheMightyZingy and RalphZiggy for giving me lots of feedback on the design and layout of the apartment and teaching me about architecture.

This birthday chapter was a joy to write. The bit about the fox was more or less a cerebral writing moment where my fingers just flew across the keyboard and my mind was on autopilot. The spiel about Nintendo is a running joke among my friends that the company was out to ruin friendships. It was quite fun to imagine the cast of Oregairu approach a game of Mario Kart.

The final scene was where I broke out my cultural advantage. My mother's side of the family is Indian, so I'm quite intimate with that part of the world. She taught me how to grind spices to make garahm masala and tikka spice blends. Curry is a staple at every meal (minus breakfast) in your average Indian household.

Hachiman has had some good times in Sri Lanka, mostly of the people he had met. Reflecting on how easily he was able to tell Yukino, has him wonder about the nature of trust. A lot of this was written from personal experience where a person who I had considered my closest and trusted friend used the things I told him against me one day. It took me some time to reconcile, during which I spent time philosophizing what trust was.

I can still trust others, and so should you.

-SouBU
Editors (Lord of Admirals 412; Xynovitch)

Revision Log:
03/17/2020: Re-uploaded with overhaul of tenses and changes in word choice and sentence structure as well as major grammar fixes. Edited author's note to be more succinct and relevant.