Chapter 25: "Solidarity"

"A toast! To Hikitani's win!"

A cheer erupted from around the table as one of my colleagues called the toast. No sooner had the declaration been said, shot glasses collided with one another.

Maybe this one?

I leaned my head back and drank the liquor. It was rum, straight white rum, and it burned the back of my throat as it went down. It was like swallowing a flamethrower.

No, this wasn't it.

Our table had a group of 5, including Hiura, Shiba, and I. Of the remaining two, one was a familiar face from the department, and the other I had never seen before. Shiba had asked the Chief, but he had declined. It made sense considering that he was still in the dog house with Shizuka after all.

"So... I heard rumors, but I just wanna make sure," the unfamiliar man said, with bright and curious eyes. He looked young, probably a year or two older than me at most. "Hikitani and you went to the same high school?"

"Starting with the questions already, Tomotouya? That's a pretty personal one." Hiura commented with a raised eyebrow from my left.

Are we going to ignore how he butchered my name?

"Gotta make conversation somehow." Tomato admitted unabashedly. "Besides, all I ever hear about these two are rumors.""

I guess we are.

"Senpai and I have known each other since highschool." Shiba started, his fingers gingerly touched the still completely full shot glass. "I met Senpai when he came to help out with student council activities, back when I was vice president. He was close to our President, and she relied on him a lot so we saw him around often."

Shiba seemed to have finally collected enough nerve, and quickly downed the shot. He hissed, swinging his head left and right like he just took a punch to the face and was trying to shake it off.

"S-saw him a bit less in his third year, when he was about to graduate." Shiba managed to get out as he shuddered.

I shared a look with Hiura, who grinned at me after seeing my partner tremble like a leaf. I schooled my face as best I could and raised a hand to grab the attention of the bartender. I circled a single finger in the air. Another round of shots showed up within minutes, much to Shiba's dismay.

Maybe this one?

"Down the hatch." I muttered, reveling as the liquid burned off another layer of cells from my throat.

This wasn't it. Time endured its march and I was but a helpless prisoner.

Shiba followed soon after, coughing once and banging his chest.

"Attaboy!" One of the men laughed, slapping Shiba's shoulder with an enthused smile.

"I see you're no stranger to alcohol." Hiura stated, looking at my second empty shot glass.

"We're well acquainted." I drawled, stacking my shot glasses.

"Never put you for a bar-diver kind of guy."

"That's because I'm not." I raised my hand once more, motioning for the bartender to come close. "Can I get a whiskey? On the rocks."

"Single malt? Blended?" Asked the bartender, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Don't care."

The bartender nodded in understanding and walked away. I could just barely see the counter from here, but it was enough to see him pull a half-empty bottle from the shelf. All the way from the left, where the cheapest stuff usually was.

"So, totally not a bar-diver?" Hiura needled with a smirk.

"Nope."

"Probably not a social drinker either."

"Hiura, alcohol serves one and one purpose only."

"Ah, the 'forget-my-own-existence' type of drinker."

"Bingo."

My whiskey arrived in an old-fashioned glass, holding within a single perfectly spherical ball of ice floating in a sea of amber. The drink was smooth enough, and once you got past the taste of alcohol, it presented a sweetness and caramel-like nature with hints of spice and wood grain.

"Not bad." I muttered.

"Oi, Hiura." My fellow department detective called out. "Get some edamame would ya? Some yuzu salt too." [1]

"What? Already?" Hiura had a predatory smirk. "You getting old, Hisashi-san?"

Sushi huffed. "I can still kick your ass, brat. And you, newbie! What's the interest in these two? I don't know how it worked at your previous place, but things are different at the TMPD. We don't have time for silly rumors. Coworkers are brothers-in-arms, not subjects of gossip."

Hiura chuckled under this breath and I could only roll my eyes. Shiba —of all people— snorted. Sushi was as straight-laced as they came. While his intentions may be professional in nature, anyone with working eyes and ears could testify that the rumor mill at the TMPD was its own monstrosity.

"I was talking to the other guys at Homicide about some case-records I was going over. Came across a case from a year and a bit ago, one that they worked on. A guy can get curious about his predecessors, can't he?"

Hiura rolled his eyes and turned towards Shiba and I. "Sorry about him. You probably haven't met him yet, but he's a new addition to the Homicide Department. He's a friend of mine from the Academy."

"Our replacements?" I asked, peering from over the rim of my glass.

"Yep, him and his partner. They were working at an outstation before this."

I nodded slowly. Under normal circumstances, Tomato's rise up to full detective status at his age would be mighty impressive. But people had skewed perspectives ever since Shiba and I got there. It was unfortunate.

"So what case are we talking about, Tomotouya?" Hiura gestured towards his friend, giving him the proverbial floor.

"Shit, I forgot the code, but it was the serial killer case Odaiba. The one with the Artist? The woman who kidnapped kids and made art pieces out of their bodies to be sold on the black market? She had kidnapped 2 daughters from a family in her last stint before we got her."

Sushi looked confused. "I remember that case alright, the entire building was in cheers. But I don't recall Hikitani and Shiba working on that?"

Can no one get my name right?

"It's because we didn't." I grunted and slumped a bit further over the table.

"We were never officially assigned to the case, Hisashi-san." Shiba explained quickly, seeing a blank look fall over Sushi's face. "We weren't on the record."

Tomato was practically bouncing. "All the other guys at Homicides told me the real story. I have to say, dude, your guys' work was fantastic! The case was brought back from the cold and it was handled so well. Do you have any advice for someone new to the department like me?"

My hand froze mid sip, and the sphere of ice touched my nose as I felt the chilled whiskey brush up against my lips like waves hitting a beach.

Maybe this one?

"Don't have much." I opened my mouth and swallowed the rest of the amber liquor, and struck down any protest my body made, gag reflex and all. "Shiba was the one who handled all the evidence and organized the reports. He always notices the details, all I did was make a guess from the intel he gathered. Besides, the only reason we were able to solve the case was because we somehow bumped into the perp at a coffee shop before we even knew this case existed."

The world remained before my eyes. Still.

"Come on, Senpai." Shiba needled in. "That's not true at all. You set up the sting, remember? You made a psychological profile of the perp and then pretended to be the type of buyer the criminal would interact with. Words, body-language, clothing, everything. If you didn't use yourself as bait, we would have never arrested them."

"Wait, is this the same case where the entire Forensics department was called out to? I didn't see that many vans in my life." Hiura asked.

"It is." Sushi confirmed, before giving me a once over. "So... after all that, why weren't you credited?"

I shrugged, but before I could change the conversation, Shiba stepped in once more.

"Senpai didn't want to take the credit since he was never working on the case to begin with."

"That's kind of you."

I sighed. Wordlessly, I reached out for a bottle of sake we had at the table and poured myself a shot.

"Kindness had nothing to do with it." I muttered in disappointment. "The officer on hand was the one who worked the case for months, and was vital to the final profile I made. He deserved it more than I did."

Would this be the one?

"Shut up." I whispered to myself. I wanted silence, even from my thoughts.

No one heard me, as Tomato boisterously followed up on my explanation. "The entire Homicides department apparently changed its investigation protocol after that. There's more emphasis on profiling the suspect now, and trying to figure out general motives and emotional ties rather than specifics. Everyone says it's a lot more open minded."

I snickered, and felt the sake come out through my nose. It stung like hell.

"S-Sorry." I apologized to the rest of the group who looked at me oddly, trying to hold in their laughter. "I just remembered how chaotic the office was when Shiba and I just ran out to confront the perp."

It was the best lie I could come up with at the moment.

"Nah, it's still the same now. Department Head's desk is a goddamn mess and his office looks like a bomb went off in there. Everyone says that things haven't really changed, even if the quality of the case solving has improved. We're managing to close more cases than ever before, but the speed leaves something to be desired."

"Bah." Sushi barked. "Back in my day, we worked overtime."

"You want to try and look the Chief in the face and say that?" Hiura joked, elbowing the older man.

Playful banter soon ensued among the group, and I took this as my cue to tune them out. The bottle of sake became lukewarm, and had a little over a third left. I tipped the bottle and dribbled it into my shot glass. I noted how my arm quivered, yet I drank it without fanfare. Someone else had tugged the bottle out of my hands, pouring their own.

Maybe this one? A bait I set out for myself, just like I did for the Artist.

"Seriously, though." Tomato spoke out over the din. "Hikitani-san, how do you approach investigations? All the cases you are credited with are almost always solved after you get a profile. Is there a method?"

The bottle returned to me, empty. We were out of sake, to my immense chagrin. All I had left was a few licks of whiskey at the bottom of my glass. The ice had barely melted, and the globe of frozen water frosted the glass.

"... I guess experience."

"Uh…" Tomato tilted his head to the side. "Not to show off or anything, but I'm pretty sure my career as a detective has been longer than yours?"

"Exactly."

The table went silent as everyone stopped talking. The only noise was the sound of ice sliding along the side of the glass as I lazily twirled it.

"W-well! I'm glad you were let free. You did a lot for the TMPD!" Tomato had recovered first and was hurriedly trying to fill the void in conversation.

"I can toast to that again!" Sushi exclaimed. "Hikitani's exemplary service to the TMPD is only expected. He was handpicked by the Chief after all."

"I think there's a bit more to it than that. The Chief has a teenage niece, I believe." Hiura pointed out.

"Oh ho." Sushi nodded in understanding while massaging his beard thoughtfully. "Grooming our boy, is it?"

I groaned and let my forehead hit the wooden table as the table burst into laughter. Before I could even begin to explain how things were not like that, a server arrived with a large platter filled with food we had ordered beforehand as well as a fresh bottle of sake.

"Goddammit, couldn't even chew on some edamame before the appetizers." Sushi moaned. "You're useless, Hiura."

"Hey!" Hiura yelped indignantly. "At least I got the sweet sake! Getting it warmed costs extra!"

For the most part I slowly faded away and just listened to them talk. Their topics were almost fantastically mundane. I was almost jealous that they have such benign worries for people who dealt with the harsh reality of the world.

I can't help but wonder; are they like me? Hiding their insecurities and regrets. If they are, then they're doing it in a manner far better than what I was capable of. I felt something press my side, and my neck instinctively snapped to look. Shiba's elbow was there, gently nudging my flank.

"What?" I asked, flicking my eyes away.

"The Homicide Department still remembers all that you did for them."

"I didn't do it for them." I rolled my eyes, feeling like I had this conversation at least once a week with this guy. "Goals of 'recognition' can go to hell too."

"I know, but Tomotouya-san clearly looks up to you."

"So?" Maybe it was the alcohol, but I felt my patience wearing thin. "Tomato can worship a poster for all that I care."

"He wants to know more, he wants to be as good as an investigator."

My eyes narrowed. "Cut the crap, Shiba. I don't know what idiocy you and the rest are trying to peddle, but I'm not a good investigator. I'm a vulture. I find the dead more often than I find the living. Tomato shouldn't be following any sort of example I set."

"You mean 'Tomotouya-san." Shiba tried to correct with a sigh. "I think you're being obstinate. You're doing the same thing as when the mother of the 2 kidnapped girls wanted to meet you."

"Come on, I was the obstinate one in that situation? The lady petitioned HQ once a week for months!"

"Yes, she did. All to meet you. And she didn't stop until you finally sent her a letter."

"What are you trying to say here?"

"You rescued her daughters. You saved them."

I snorted. "I did. But why disappoint them with a bastard like me?"

"But still!" Shiba insisted, in that irritating fashion of his that reminded me of when we first worked together. I had the same urge to throttle him now as I did then. Funny how some things didn't change. "They wanted to know! And you can't be this stupid to not see all the people you've influenced. There's proof right here: an entire group over in the Homicide Department."

The fingers of my left hand wrapped around the neck of the unopened sake bottle, as my right held a shot glass in place. Biting down hard on the cork, I pulled the stopper with an audible pop. After pouring myself a shot I held the bottle towards Shiba. All my offering got me was a steely gaze. I shrugged and spat out the cork, helping myself to both shot glasses.

I knocked one back and smacked my lips together before finally speaking. "Everyone needs a messiah. But at some point... he's getting nailed up. How they deal with that is a measure of their maturity." [2]

"Are you calling them children? For looking up to you?"

I shrugged. What more did he want? The next shot of sake tasted great.

But it wasn't the one.

These thoughts don't last long as one of the guys (Tomato, I think?) stood up and declared that he would personally bank roll the next bottle of sake.

One bottle became two.

Two became three.

I blinked, and suddenly it had turned into six.

The table became rowdier as the night went on and the drinks kept coming. Even I wasn't immune to the effects of alcohol, and I found myself giggling stupidly at jokes I would have scoffed at if I was sober. My head spun and felt as if it was surrounded by cushions. I tried to stand up, but Mother Earth spun below my feet when I did, and so sat down promptly after my first attempt. Yet, in spite of all of this, the pit in my stomach kept gnawing at me.

I was still here.

"Careful there, Senpai." Cautioned Shiba, who looked relatively well off. Ugh, he's the responsible type, yeah. Probably stopped sometime when I didn't notice.

"I'm so drunk." I groaned pathetically.

"Do you need a ride home?"

"I have something planned… can you do me a favor?" I handed my phone to Shiba. "Just call the most recent number in my log, ask them to come."

I placed my forehead on the table, the cold surface temporarily abating the throbbing. I could hear Shiba murmur something into my phone, something that I could make out as vaguely being an address.

"They said that they'll be here in half an hour or so."

"Thanks… Shiba…"

The sounds of the bar melded into my brain like ingredients in a stew, the joyful air of the establishment mixed with bits and pieces of my conversation with Shiba earlier. The occasional recognizable snippets of popular songs from the ceiling mounted speakers also occasionally surfaced from the noise of my mind. Some part of me felt detached from the waking world I was a part of.

The space around me was a tumultuous mess, and I could barely think straight enough to even describe the environment. It was all just fuzzy and vague. But I was able to pinpoint the sound of the doors of the bars opening with the characteristic chime of a bell. I could also tell that the entire establishment went quiet.

I raised my head to see what had caused such a rapid change in atmosphere. My mind chugged as it urged some part of my flight-or-flight response to start up. Instead I got a horrible feeling of confusingly painful sobriety as I saw a lone Yukinoshita Yukino standing at the entrance. She wore black leggings that ended in light brown ankle-high boots, her top covered in a light blue coat that reached her mid thighs.

The world slowed to a crawl. Time no longer had its agency to continue with its march. The bartender froze in the midst of drying a mug. A customer nearly fell off his stool craning his neck like a flamingo for a better view. A dart wildly missed the board and stuck itself in a bamboo plant in the corner. Along with the rest of the pub, the men at my table were also properly flummoxed by the arrival of a pristine Yamato Nadeshiko.

Completely and utterly out of place. My stomach threatened with rebellion as it gurgled uncomfortably, alcohol wanting to free itself by way of coming up the wrong way.

I must be seeing things. Did someone put absinthe in my drink? The wormwood kind? [3] I slapped myself to make sure. I didn't feel a thing but she was still there.

I looked at Shiba. "The Chief was supposed to be here."

Shiba frowned. "The Chief? I called and talked to a girl. You said to call the latest person in your log right?"

I had a sinking feeling and quickly whipped out my phone and checked my log. Turned out, I was too drunk to realize that I had gotten a missed call from Yukinoshita. And she was the most recent person in my log as a result. The Chief's number right below that.

"What have you done, Shiba?"

I really needed to buy a new phone.

Yukinoshita began scanning around the bar like a lighthouse, and stopped when she spotted my group.

"There's no way she's looking at us?"

"No. She's just trying to find a place to sit. Must be."

"She's kinda familiar…"

"Bro, I am not presentable right now, hide me!"

The men started chattering, and even in my drunken stupor, I knew I was going to regret this. I raised my hand and waved at her lifelessly.

"No way, no way, no way, no way. There is no way."

"SHE… KNOWS… HIM?"

"SENPAI?!"

"He invited her? This is a nightmare, right? I can wake up soon, right? I can kill him, right?"

Guys you're saying some pretty scary stuff there. But yeah I'd be surprised too if I knew a person like me was somehow acquainted to a person like her.

Yukinoshita walked over and appraised my company for the night. "Hello, I'm Yukinoshita Yukino. I'm here to collect Hikigaya-kun, I apologize for disturbing your evening."

"N-no, it's fine."

"Not an issue."

"Don't worry about it."

"It's cool."

A chorus of weak denials were delivered from the captive audience. Clearly they were still caught in the allure of… her.

"If you could excuse us. Have a good night." The men nodded and sync and their eyes followed her as she turned towards me.

"Look at you! Did I not tell you to take better care of yourself?" Yukinoshita chided.

"... sorry." I muttered back.

"Is your alcohol tolerance this low? I didn't think you could disappoint me even further Hikigaya-kun."

She said with a teasing smile and tone.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."

"Can you stand up? Do you need me to help? Actually, let me help you." She was at my side in an instant, gently holding my arm and steadying me as I stood.

"Just… do whatever you want." My head felt like it wanted to roll right off my shoulders.

The peanut gallery continued their observations with the fervor of scientists who finally discovered Bigfoot.

"Wait a minute, the rumors were true!?"

"The greatest conspiracy theory in all of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department has been resolved, the elusive girlfriend of the scary detective."

"Senpai, why didn't you tell me?" Faintly sobbed a voice.

"Morimi is going to have a horse when she hears about this…"

Oi, Hiura. What did Secretary-chan have to do with any of this?

Yukinoshita helped me out of the bar. The breeze of the nighttime air chilled my face and helped clear some of the fog that had descended over my thoughts.

"... how did you get here?" I asked her in a low voice.

"I took a cab." She answered succinctly.

I stumbled, but she quickly caught me. "Do you want me to drive your car home?"

"Can you drive stick?" Wow, even I could tell I sounded like a zombie.

"Drive 'stick'?"

I put a hand to my face, trying to stave off a headache. "Three pedals… manual transmission, you gotta press the clutch and shit… to change gear."

My Aston Martin V8 Vantage had a 6-speed manual, there was no other way to operate the car.

"I do not."

"Then… call a cab… my apartment..."

Everything was too bright. The lamps that sat atop their posts blinded me, yet Yukinoshita stood beneath their light and thus so did I.

"Are you alright? Do you need a jacket?"

I shook my head. I didn't. In fact, I felt like I was burning. Fresh air was doing wonders for my throbbing head, however. Everything became easier when a cab rolled up and Yukinoshita helped me into the backseat before sitting beside me as well. Words were passed, but I didn't pay attention. Well, I wasn't able to.

My head settled into the crook besides the window and leather headrest. I could feel the vibration of the car as it rolled along the roads. There was a characteristic whirring of the engine. So linear and predictable, it was comfortable. I began to humm to the melody, finding some thrill in how the air in my chest resonated with the vibration of the car.

Lights. So many lights. Some amber. Some white. A few stood atop poles and illuminated circles on the floor. Others were simple vertical street lamps. They all flew past my window as the car journeyed on. Yukinoshita may have tried speaking to me at some point, but all I could do was hum.

A sudden turn sent my forehead into the window with a dull smack. There? That pinch at the edge of consciousness? I think that's pain. I'm supposed to feel that. I let out a shuddering breath. Pain meant I was still in this Jungle. The world still stood. The people still inhabited it. Time moved on.

How callous could this all be?

The car came to a shuddering stop and I let out a groan at the unpleasant sensation. Yukinoshita tugged at my arm, and I let her drag me out of the cab. The lobby of the apartment was empty, but it was so bright. Painfully bright. The throbbing in my head returned, and I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth to stave it off. I leaned on Yukinoshita as I stumbled into the elevator. Eventually coming to my apartment door.

Keys, keys, keys. Where were my keys? Pocket? Yes, in my pocket. My fingers felt like foreign attachments I vaguely could control. I fumbled with them unable to separate two keys before Yukinoshita plucked them from my fingers and took matters into her own hands. Within moments the door opened and she walked inside, with me staggering along.

Shoes didn't come off at the genkan, instead instinct made me pull Yukinoshita down the familiar corridor. The first open doorway to my left was what I swerved into. Moonlight filtered through the large window and illuminated my desk and the giant map of Tokyo that hung on the wall just before it. Familiarity. Comfort. Direction. Purpose. So many vague but powerful emotions coursed through me.

But it just reminded me how tired I was.

Perhaps Yukinoshita also noticed, since she moved us towards my bed. I nearly fell over when she came to a sudden stop just as we passed my desk.

"W-what's wrong?" I slurred in a low volume. My tongue felt like it had swollen and was hindering my speech.

"Nothing. Come, let's put you to bed."

I hummed in agreement. I removed my arm from around her shoulder and lurched forward. My knees caught the bedpost and I fell face-first into the white abyss. It was soft and inviting, if a little cold. Then again, so was everything. The tension left my body and I finally, finally,was able to relax.

So I allowed sleep to claim me.

Δ▼Δ

[Yukinoshita Yukino POV]

In any other context, my actions would be cause for alarm.

Many would agree that a person standing and simply watching as another slept was reason enough to call the authorities. The thought was the furthest from my mind as I stood there unmoving, afraid that any sudden action might wake him. It was a silly thought, but the idea worried me. He laid upon his bed still fully clothed and with shoes, yet by the way his back rhythmically rose and fell he was comfortable enough to sleep. I waited several more minutes until I was certain he was in the land of dreams.

Turning around, I faced his desk and the object that had caught me attention moments prior when I entered: a translucent orange bottle only several centimeters tall and wide with a white cap. Holding it in hand, I quietly left the room, taking care to gently shut the door behind me. He needed as much undisturbed sleep as he could get... and I wanted to know if I would be walked in on.

The oil painting of Buddha that hung on the far wall above the sofa greeted me as I crossed into the living room. None of the curtains were drawn, exposing the large window to the balcony. The apartment was flooded in the colored lights of the metropolitan Tokyo skyline. Silence was far and above impossible, even this high up. The sounds of traffic and life on the surface could still be heard.

I sat down on the blue sofa and finally looked at the bottle. It was a medicine bottle, the kind you would receive from the pharmacy. The label contained the name of the drug as well as the name of the intended patient, Hikigaya Hachiman. This bottle was filled a month ago and also indicated that there was one more refill left. So he took this regularly?

All thoughts came to a stop as the air reverberated with the sounds of a helicopter that passed several kilometers away over the bay. I strained my ears once it had gone, praying that Hikigaya-kun had not awoken because of the disturbance. Thankfully, all was silent and unchanging.

When did I realize how sterile this all felt?

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling my heart beat in my chest. This was an invasion of privacy, and I was quite sure there were laws against what I was doing. However... nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I reached into my pocket for my smartphone, and was able to unlock it simply by turning the device over so the screen was facing me. The automatic face detection did the rest and the screen burst to life. In the dark it was nearly blinding, but I remained stalwart. My fingers slowly typed each character of the medicine name into the search field.

What came up wasn't reassuring. It was an antidepressant, meant to be taken once a day to stabilize mood, improve sleep patterns, increase appetite, and generally counteract common symptoms of depression. It was also strongly advised to avoid consuming alcohol while undergoing treatment, as this medicine had dangerous drug-interactions with alcohol. Side effects included: Nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, headache, and death.

The last of which was common, if the long list of footnotes that scrolled past my eyes was evidence enough.

I blackened the screen on my phone and set it down on the coffee table before me. I closed my eyes, remembering words from a conversation I had not but a few days prior.

"Then… is this wise? Leaving him to his own course of action?"

"It wasn't." I murmured. "It wasn't at all."

"Obsessive. Distant. Brooding. Quiet. Manic. At some point, you probably thought he was suicidal. I wouldn't be surprised if you still do."

"I-I didn't imagine…" The words died in my throat. The thought perhaps crossed my mind once or twice, but I never would think that it would be anything more.

"He's a really gentle person, you know? He doesn't want to hurt anyone, not even a little bit. He'd rather hurt himself."

"This is… too far."

This went beyond simply inflicting pain on oneself; I had seen that in the past. Alienating fellow students by making thinly veiled jabs and insults at a student who shirked duties? Taking on the hatred of the entire student body to save an event? Falsely confessing to save another from ridicule and embarrassment? Becoming the easy target for hatred for any and all? These types of 'pain' were temporary.

Death? Death was permanent and uncompromising.

Hikigaya-kun was hurting on a level I couldn't even begin to comprehend. What could change a man so? As a teenager he swore up and down that he would become a househusband, that "to work was to lose." Yet, now he works himself to exhaustion, driven by some insatiable need to atone. The bond with his sister that defined who he was outside of high school was… twisted now.

But he talks to us so much more now! He interacts and knows of our lives, places himself there!

A small voice argued in my mind.

But...he seemingly held us even farther away than he did before. While he had a place in our lives, wasn't he also trying to keep us out of his?

Why?

Why did he act this way?

"Hachiman isn't afraid that we'll judge him to be a horrible, evil person. It's the opposite. He's afraid that if he tells everything to us, his closest, he's going to be forgiven."

"He doesn't trust me."

The conclusion was straightforward and simple, yet a chasm opened in my chest as I spoke. We both valued trustworthiness, one of the few things we agreed upon and struggled to achieve during the days in the Service Club. Yet, all it took for me to lose my place was being apart for a few years?

No. That wasn't it.

To me, it was simply a number of years passing. Going to university, exploring a new country, completing my degree, and advancing my career. For Hikigaya-kun, it was different. He put through trials that damaged him in mind and soul. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that his time in Sri Lanka was the most affecting period of his life. It defined him now, and if I were to be cynically realistic, probably would define him for the rest of his life.

So where did that leave me?

Was I some sort of reminder of the past he could never go back to? Was I yet another person he needed to be wary of? Written off as someone who would get in the way of his atonement?

Of course! His sins weren't sins! What was there to atone for? If only he could see reason!

Ah.

"He doesn't trust me… because he thinks I don't understand him."

And really, was he wrong? I realized my arrogance now. Hadn't Komachi-san said it herself? People change; distances make those changes even larger. Hikigaya-kun was at his core the same person he always was, and the boy I admired so long ago shone through his actions. But in the happiness of that, I ignored the darker tint that had colored it all. I thought I knew him.

Now I realize that I didn't. He was right to be skeptical of me. While I was unable to separate the Hikigaya-kun of the past and who he was now, he already saw me as such. I was Yukinoshita Yukino, a friend from the past, but now an unknown quantity.

I want to understand him. I want to know who he is now. I want to know why he does what he does now. But to do that, I need to know what happened to him, the events that changed him. A story that only he could tell, but one he had no intention to share with me. He was scared of what I would do, that I would pardon him for his misdeeds.

No… that wasn't quite right…

Pity. He thought I would pity him.

"Taking pity on someone is a dangerous thing, Yukinoshita. It ignores the struggle to overcome. Some scars don't heal, they come to define you, make you grow in certain ways."

Guilt clawed at me. I was so confident in my view of him, but I was caught in the lull of the past. The Hachiman who was here today was not simply his high school self with a few additions to his personality. The things he saw and did changed him. He had become someone new, and I had yet to reconcile with that.

And it was about time I did.

"They have to be willing to take his very heavy burdens on their own back. They need to become his support. This can't be half-assed! If this person failed... he might... he might just roll over and die."

I would be there for him, just as he was there for me. His struggles were not his alone to hold, I would offer my own strength for him as well. He could trust me. I would never judge him. I would just be at his side, waiting until the day that he could tell why it all was the way it was. So I could truly know who this Hikigaya Hachiman was.

Time was not on my side. He was already beginning to roll over.

"I won't take no for an answer. Never again."

So, he wished to avoid me? Good luck.

Δ▼Δ

[Hikigaya Hachiman POV]

The soft feeling of my bed was what greeted me when I woke from the abyss. I tried to move but my body protested with aches. Frustration and indignant rage coursed through me, my mind demanding to know why I was so tired. Had I been asleep or did I actually run a marathon and subsequently pass out? A pulsating headache answered back, which didn't please me. Like the rest of me, my eyelids were heavy, and it took considerable effort to open them.

Warm sunlight poured in through the window. I could see airplanes flying overhead along with the occasional cloud floating lazily at the whim of the winds. It was a beautiful day.

I'm still here.

I rolled over… or rolled over as best I could. The sheer amount of clothing I was wearing got in the way. Why did I have my work jacket on? And was I still wearing shoes? What in the world happened last nig—

Like a dam bursting, the memories came rushing back to me. The sounds of laughter as I sat around a table with others. Dim lighting. Lots of glass. Lots of ice. The occasional warmth from food. The distinct smell of alcohol as it flowed like water.

I'm still here.

How am I still here?

Why am I still here?

"I'm such a coward." I groaned to the ceiling. It was final: I didn't have the balls to do it myself. I decided to play Russian Roulette and leave it to chance. It was easier to let fate take responsibility than myself. Even after all those close encounters in Sri Lanka, I was still afraid. What a hypocrite, I was; able to dish it out, but got cold-feet when it was my turn.

"I'm sorr—" The apology died on my lips when upon turning over on my side I saw no one. The girls weren't here. Pushing through my headache, I sat up and ignored the way my vision swam. The room was empty, and not a thing out of place. Furniture was where they always were. My desk was still a mess of books and papers that faced a large map that hung from the wall. Where could they have gone?

"... I can always tell them later." I murmured to myself.

My stomach churned as I leapt to my feet. I removed my coat and threw it on top of the bed while kicking off my shoes at the same time. I walked into the bathroom as best I could. The surface beneath my feet seemed to be moving erratically, and I was far from a gyroscope. The jackhammer in my skull didn't help matters. I rolled up my sleeves as I entered and turned the knob of the faucet.

Blessedly cold water greeted my outstretched hands. I splashed my face and sighed in relief as everything stabilized some and my entire being was a tiny bit less uncomfortable. Blindly, I stretched out a hand to grab my towel from the racks. I frowned when my fingers felt fabric that was far more plush than the one Shizuka gave me to use. Pulling it up to my face I was met with a slate gray, which meant it definitely wasn't Rumi's towel either. In fact, I don't think anyone in the Tsurumi household had a gray towel.

Wait.

Realization dawned on me as I finally took in my surroundings. This wasn't the bathroom on the second floor of the Tsurumi house. It wasn't even the first floor bathroom. I woke up in my bed, next to a window overlooking the bay. My furniture was where I had left it.

I was in my apartment.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit." I murmured.

Shizuka was going to murder me. Smother me with concern and then suffocate yours truly. My sluggish brain revolted any attempts to stimulate the neurons that comprised the organ. Information was vital, I needed all the intel I could get in a (probably futile) try at an excuse. Looking up at the ceiling did little in ways of creativity.

Who the hell was I kidding? I could already feel the bruising. Hopefully, me getting home safely and sleeping a few hours would be enough to get out of the worst of the lecture. Actually, now that I think about it… how did I get home?

"Hello, I'm Yukinoshita Yukino. I'm here to collect Hikigaya-kun, I apologize for disturbing your evening."

My treacherous mind supplied the memory readily. My eyes widened as the events post-bar returned to me in stunning clarity. I couldn't help but question if I actually was drunk last night or if I had the world's most bachelor-ish dream.

I was at the bar… the others wanted to celebrate the court case verdict. Then I got hammered. Then… Yukinoshita picked me up and helped me home?

"This can't be happening…"

I shoved the towel onto my face and dried off as fast as I could. Considering that my options could happen later, right now I needed to get out and get a litmus of what my situation was like. I wasn't unfamiliar to being drunk, and I didn't tend to cause wanton chaos in my inebriated wake... but you never knew. I threw the towel back onto the rack and stepped back out into the hallway. My clothing stuck to me and I could now faintly smell the booze on my clothing, mixed with the minty scent of toothpaste.

"Alright, food." I muttered, making a beeline to the kitchen. Hold on, why? I haven't been here for at least a week. My pantries were bare before. Now, they must be absolutely empty. "Correction, guess I'll go out for breakfast."

The sound of rushing water halted me in my tracks. Hesitantly, I turned around. The door to the bathroom was open, and the sound was not coming from there. That only left the kitchen sink. The pounding of my heart grew as the number of possible suspects shrunk. Hiura? No. The Chief? No. Shiba? Maybe, but no. Shizuka? Maybe, but the fact that I wasn't being throttled meant no. Rumi? Likely. Yukinoshita...?

I stepped into the kitchen, and everything crawled to a halt as my former club president stood there, wearing the clothing she did last night. The wrinkles in her shirt made it evident that she had slept in them. Despite her eyes being trained to the frying pan before her, the small tilt of her head in my direction let me know she was aware of my presence.

My throat went dry.

"Good morning." Yukinoshita greeted quietly. Her fingers twisted the stove cap, turning it off. The click of the knob spurred me into action. Or rather my stomach came to life, as it let out a furious growl.

"... is that food?"

She looked at me with wide eyes, blinking several times before shaking her head with a sigh. "I'll have breakfast ready in a few moments, go ahead and take a seat."

I nodded and shuffled to the table, thoroughly cowed. The strength to pull the chair back took some effort to muster, but I persevered. There wasn't a fine layer of dust on top of the table, much to my surprise. How long was she awake for? Did she sleep in the guest room? My thoughts were broken by Yukinoshita walking from the kitchen with a tray in hand. Upon it were bowls of plain white rice that contained a raw egg yoke.

"Tomago kake gohan?" I muttered in surprise reaching over for the shoyu. The meal may have been bleak even by Spartan standards, but it had a nostalgic quality to it. Considering the state my refrigerator was normally in, it was a miracle she was able to make anything at all. [4]

"I felt something simple and easy to eat would be necessary after…" Her words trailed, as she seemed too determined to focus solely upon her meal.

I didn't answer and just quietly topped my bowl with some furikake. I slowly kneaded the rice into the egg. The first taste was near bliss and I hungirly devoured the rest.

"How are you feeling?"

The sudden question made me look up. Yukinoshita had her face turned down towards her bowl as she gracefully placed a dollop of yellowed rice into her mouth.

"Alright I guess… don't really get hangovers." Perks of having fast metabolism.

"That's not what I meant."

My brow furrowed. "...what?"

"How are you doing, because of work?"

"Is that… even a question?"

She sighed, and placed down her chopsticks. "I was told by Nee-san that you were taken off a major case until further notice."

"...that was supposed to be confidential." On one hand, this was entirely within character and I should have known better. On the other hand, damn Haruno and her insatiable need to stir the pot! "But I'm doing just fine, I think of it more as a mini vacation of sorts."

"Liar."

I froze at the accusation and slowly turned my eyes up to meet hers. Dread filled me as I noted the way her cheeks were set and how her lips were drawn into a thin line.

"..." I closed my mouth, unsure how to even answer this.

"The Hikigaya-kun that I know would have never stepped away."

The awkwardness and apprehension I had felt since I woke up was replaced by a feeling of sludge that traveled down the back of my throat. A fire lit itself in my stomach, and it wasn't because of the food.

I laughed dryly. "I seem to recall the opposite from high school. What were the words that you used? 'Perpetually lazy' and 'unmotivated.' The whole package."

"I was referring to Detective Hikigaya Hachiman." She responded instantly. "The man who works at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, not the teenage student that attended Sobu Academy in Chiba."

"Semantics." I waved away. "Both are one in the same."

"To the foolish perhaps. Or to the willfully ignorant."

The flame within let out a tiny spark of irritation. She was picking at me. I scrambled to figure out why. Did I piss her off? Or was it the whole 'drunkscapade' thing? "Me? Willfully ignorant? Yeah right."

"Hmm? Whoever said that? May it be a guilty conscience speaking?"

"I thought sophistry was beneath you."

"I thought you hated lies and deceits."

I winced. "... I still do. But just because I renounced the dark arts doesn't mean I don't practice them."

"In the past, you would have never done so."

"We're adults and life is life. People compromise, I compromise, you compromise. Even the traffic light settles and turns red every once in a while. I've learned to accept that I might be a bad guy. But if some good comes out of it, why not?"

"You're a better person than that."

"Sounds like high expectations to me. The Yukinoshita Yukino that attended Sobu would have had some choice words with you. Probably calling you an idiot for even considering I have any sort of potential."

"So you acknowledge that people can change?"

My jaws clamped shut audibly. This wasn't going to work. This was going the way every argument I had with Shizuka went. Soon, she would be pushing about not eating well, or how I pulled all-nighters. Ultimately about how they were worried about me. The same guilt strategy that, unfortunately, was always effective. The frustration never got any better, especially since I understood where they were coming from, for I was there too once.

You, you, you, you, you. It was always about me.

But it was only natural to value the life of someone you knew; you understood them better, they mattered more to you than some stranger on the streets. But that person had their own lives, with people that also cared for them. Either way, no matter how important a person might be to others, all it took was a single bullet to snuff it out. The great equalizer, as all lives were the same in death.

My life was no greater than anyone else's, and those around me would never understand that. They didn't have the Jungle to give them perspective. And how easy it was when there were so many examples to learn from, and just as many corpses.

I looked away, grabbing my bowl and standing up. "Ironic you're so bothered by me not running back to work when you're here disturbing me to begin with."

Her gaze hardened. "You were drunk last night."

I rolled my eyes, to distract her from noticing anything else. "And was that not after work? I wasn't aware that it was a sign of bad work ethic."

"Hikigaya-kun, you're being irrational." She stood up as well and followed me into the kitchen. The bowls were placed into the sink.

"No," I said turning around and folding my arms over my chest. "I'm being serious. I need you gone."

They wouldn't understand. They couldn't understand. They shouldn't understand. I didn't want them to.

"...excuse me?" Her eyes widened.

"You heard me. Please leave. I have work to do, and you're getting in the way."

"You made your own obstacles. How else would you explain going out for drinks and coming out completely intoxicated?"

"Hey, I woke up this morning." I shrugged. "Still alive."

She took my joke more poorly than I thought she would.

"You—!" Yukinoshita exclaimed before stopping herself by biting her bottom lip and looking away. She took several deep breaths before looking at me again. "That is entirely besides the point. You are deliberately misconstruing my words."

"Oh? Am I? And you aren't misconstruing my own?" It was almost too easy.

"...you're doing that on purpose. You're trying to make me angry."

"Too obvious? Was hoping it would get you to leave. I don't know how much more direct I can be here."

"Why? Why do you want me to go?"

"You're getting in the way of my work."

"You're lying to me again."

"Yukinoshita, leave."

"No."

What?

"What?" My voice echoed my thoughts with equal levels of confusion.

"I. Said. No." Every syllable was pronounced with emphasis.

"What the hell do you even want?" I growled, fingers gripping my hair in frustration.

"I want—"

"To help?" I finished her sentence viciously. The classic one-liner. How utterly pedestrian. "Do you even know what it is that you would be helping? Any semblance of what's going? Even a single iota?"

I had done so much, and even I wasn't near finished. Was Yukino trying to tell me that she was the only other person on the planet who would remember Mina along with me? Mina and her straw baskets. That little girl, who reminded me so much of Komachi and who died so ignobly. All I could do was watch. Had Yukinoshita also been there, watching?

"Would it even matter? Would you even tell me?"

The siren of a fire truck that passed far below us wailed, and served to punctuate my quietness. Would I tell her?

"No."

There would be no point. It wasn't her fault, she just… didn't know. Yukinoshita Yukino was a normal girl from normal Japan. She wasn't there.

A man who was dealt a bad hand in life died, and I pulled the trigger. His best friend was next. A crook who risked his own life to make a deal with me, sought shelter from, also bit the dust. And… that girl. I was racking up an impressive body count. My debts were becoming larger and larger, and I had to keep paying.

"It's so easy for you all." I spoke aloud. The flame in my stomach turned into lava, and it bubbled angirly. "To put things on a scale. To decide. To just let it go."

"..."

"...this is why you have to leave. You don't know what you're doing." While I still had life, I wouldn't let anymore go. A young girl died, tied to a beggar's cross. It was over, but I wouldn't forget. I would never ever forget.

Giving up any ground here was just a sure-fire path to annoyances and obstructions. But I could ignore them, for people were out there dying in the streets, good and innocent people. Even some bad ones. There were so many that didn't deserve to die. And I had the power to do something about it. I didn't want to hide from it any longer. Let the world know that Hikigaya Hachiman was done hiding beneath bodies.

Never again.

"...you're right." A small voice agreed with me. "I don't understand what I'm doing."

"...Yukinoshita?" My eyelids slowly opened, and a resolute Yukinoshita was looking straight at me, at some point standing two steps before me.

"I said that you were right." Voice barely a whisper, but one with conviction. "I don't understand what's going on. No, I don't understand you. The things that happened, the things that are happening now. All of it is something I have no knowledge of."

I desperately wanted to tell her that it wasn't her fault, but I held my tongue. To say so out loud would counteract everything I was doing.

"But I won't leave."

"You should." I whispered back, shaking my head. "You really, really should."

"I can't."

"If not because of me, at least leave for your own benefit."

"I won't. I want to know, even if you do not want to tell me."

"And what? Just wait until one day I decide to tell you?"

"If that's what it takes, then yes. I'll wait."

My eyes widened, and I was floored. Yukinoshita didn't wait for my response, and continued.

"All these things, I know that you do them for a reason. For some goal, that I don't think Hiratsuka-san and the rest, nor I, understand. But it means so much to you… so I'll wait until you can tell me."

"What are you even saying?" My throat was parched, and suddenly became heavier than lead.

She stepped closer, and my heart began to beat wildly. My brain couldn't come to odds with the words we were exchanging. It all came to a head when she rested the crown of her chest on my chest and wrapped her arms around my torso.

"I'm saying that the decisions you choose are yours to make." Her words reverberated through me, making me so much more aware of how close we were. "And I'll wait until the day that you can tell me… until you can trust me."

"... it could take forever. It might even be impossible. It's not worth it."

Don't. Don't take a risk on me. Please.

Yukino let out a small laugh, which rumbled through my chest. "That's for me to decide."

My breathing hitched. This was a certified disaster.

"But what if I don't want you to?"

"Then it's too bad."

"This is tyranny."

"Yes. Yes it is. And I'll be here, waiting until you can tell me what made you who you are now."

"I don't even know the answer to that."

"Which can be found in time. I'll be there for that as well."

This was…

So, there was nothing else? She understood that she might never understand, and was willing to wait? That was illogical. It was ludicrous. It was downright stupid, even. It wasn't Yukinoshita Yukino… or was it?

This wasn't the first time, actually. Now that I thought about it, there was that one time back at Sobu High; a case about the student elections that Shizuka brought to us in our second year. Isshiki was there too, something about her being pushed into being a candidate. We had given our proposals, and Yukinoshita had shot mine down. Who would let go of a plan that was effective, and most importantly, doable? And on top of that, not offer a counter plan? Even now, it seems inconceivable.

Her, apparently. Then she had the gall to put herself up for the election after all, even if everyone knew it was against her own wishes. A last ditch effort to prove her point. It was stubborn. It was illogical. It was ludicrous. It was downright stupid… and it was Yukinoshita Yukino. Someone who cared for her friends, and would put herself on the line for them.

The feeling of irony was all the more painful.

"...we're both idiots." I sighed. I raised my arms, but stopped part way. Was this right? Should I? Could I?

It was answered a moment later when Yukino seemingly tilted her head deeper into my chest. My arms moved by themselves, and wrapped around her shoulders. I enjoyed how her small chuckle vibrated my chest pleasantly.

Δ▼Δ

I stared at my phone, thumb hovered over a large green button. As soon as I pressed my finger against the glass, it would dial the number and connect me with the person at the other end.

"Alright, come on you sissy. What's the worst she's going to do? Kill you?" I tried to chide myself.

It didn't work.

What did work, however, was when I fumbled trying to put the phone away into my pocket and a thumb brushed against the call button. I could only watch in horror as the phone dropped to the floor, now having dialed the number and buzzing as it tried to reach the other end. Like a cruel joke, the "fragile" piece of electronics didn't shatter into a million pieces despite hitting the wooden floor with a solid thunk. The god of fortune had it out for me.

I quickly reached down, hoping I could still cancel the call. No dice. A click followed by a familiar voice speaking.

"Hello?"

"..." How? How did this happen?

"Hello? Hachiman? Are you there?"

"H-hey, Mom." I lamely answered.

"Hello, sweetie! How nice of you to call." She crooned in that jovial way she always could. "Why, I thought I would have to get Komachi to drag you out and tie you to a stretcher before I could get a chance to talk to you.."

"Haha… yeah…" I laughed nervously. Komachi wasn't capable of doing that. Nah, who am I kidding? She would totally do that.

"It's been so long! How is Tokyo treating you? How is Shizuka-san? I haven't seen Rumi-chan in ages either! I wish they would come to visit Chiba more often."

"Rumi's doing fine, still at her studies. About to finish up highschool soon. Shizuka is doing fine... I think."

"'Think'?" I could imagine my mother raising an eyebrow.

"A— uh— bit of a spat with the Chief."

"Oh dear, the silent treatment?"

"He's been sleeping in the basement guest-room." I affirmed.

My mother let out a hiss in empathetic pain. Godspeed, Chief. Well wishes straight from Chiba, stay strong.

"It must have been serious if he's in the dog-house. They were so enamored with each other the last time I visited."

Yeah, and it was also the most awkward dinner at a restaurant I've ever had.

… scratch that, if Haruno was there then it would be the most awkward.

"It… sort of is?" Trying to lie to my mother was physically impossible. She knew, she always knew. No matter what trick or technique, she would see through it in a heartbeat.

"..."

"..."

"... was it over you?"

I let out a sigh. "Yeah."

I received an identical, Hikigaya-patented, sigh in return. "When I imagined you interfering in a marriage, I never imagined it to be like this."

"... sorry?"

"Apology accepted." She graciously said, giving forgiveness to my poor soul with the benevolence that only a mother could provide. "But enough of that, how about you stop stalling?"

Fuck.

"Haha…"

"Hachiman?" The threatening aura of a mother was not to be underestimated either.

"... Komachi stopped by Tokyo. Said some things. Dad also left a voicemail… realized it's been a while…"

"That it has." A hum of acceptance. "But you're here now. And I'm getting to talk to my darling son."

"Mommmm…" I groaned, feeling embarrassed.

She only laughed heartily back at me. "Ah, how I've missed that. So tell me, what's wrong?"

"Nothing… really…," I said slowly. "I just thought I should check in… felt bad about not doing it before."

"There's nothing to forgive, silly boy. We're your family, and you should remember that once in a while. We're always here for you, no matter what. You sound tired, Hachi. What's wrong?"

"I..." I was wound tight as a coil. Eyelids squeezed shut as my gut said to cut the line right now. This was against everything I stood for. Against the people I wanted to protect.

"Hachiman?"

The worry in her voice was what got me, and I felt tension ebb away.

"I… I haven't been well…"

"..." A moment of silence from the other end and I thought I heard a few sniffles.

"Mom…!?" Any anxiety was replaced with concern.

"N-no! I'm sorry… I'm just so happy…"

"O-oh…"

"Hachiman, I knew you weren't well. I can always tell. I'm your mother. I love you, always." The words nearly buckled my knees, as a torrent of relief rushed through me.

We spoke about my eating habits, and I took a stern lecture about it, of course. Questions about how I was handling being in the city and the state of the apartment. Mom gave me the rundown on Chiba, alerting me (to my chagrin) that there was a boy who Komachi seemed to be awfully chatty with. My mother laughed when I asked for a name, face, and social security number. I would have him dealt with immediately. [5]

"You're just like your father!"

"Good to see the old man knows what to prioritize."

"Where did I go wrong with the two of you? Oh, yes… speaking of your father he told me he was having a business trip to Tokyo soon."

"Oh." I blinked, remembering a certain playback from several days ago. "Dad left a voicemail. Didn't give a date or time."

"That…!" Like the well-practiced spouse she was, my mother had her temper under control with decades of experience to help her. "You know how your father is. Head's always in the clouds, the man might as well be an airplane."

I smiled. "Yeah…"

"I'll talk to him tonight, and send you the information later. Are you comfortable with calling him to make plans?"

"I think so."

"Alright then, so let me tell you ab—" My mother was stopped mid sentence by the sound of a door opening on the other side of the call. "Speak of the devil, your father just came home."

I opened my mouth, but was interrupted by the sound of my doorbell ringing.

"Sorry, Mom. I got someone at the door."

"I see, best we stop for now. It was nice speaking with you Hachiman. And remember, I love you."

"I love you too… Mom."

"Good night, sweetie."

"Yeah."

I ended the call, feeling lighter on my feet than I had in years. I walked over the door as another ring went off. Opening the door revealed Yukinoshita on the other end, arms akimbo and feet set apart in an intimidating pose.

"...hi?" My first words already seemed wrong.

"Yes. Good evening, Hikigaya-kun." She said stiffly. "I require assistance."

"Uh… sure?"

"Good." She gestured to the silver suitcases that stood besides her. They were gigantic, and on metal wheels that just spoke of the quality and luxuriousness of their construction. "As you can see, I have my luggage with me."

"...okay?"

"T-the matter is...!" A small flush of pink colored her cheeks as she pointed her nose ever so slightly higher up at me. "My hotel reservation has finally finished its duration and I found it economically unviable to continue partaking in their services. Thus, I am requesting room and board."

My brain ceased to function, as if someone had pulled the plug.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...let me help you with those."

Arc 1: "Detective Hikigaya Hachiman"

Reference List:

[1] Edamame (枝豆) is Japanese for soybeans. This is a common bar snack, as once they're steamed, the beans have a snappy texture and taste great. They're usually paired with salt, or in the case of my main-stay izakaya, yuzu infused salt. Yuzu (柚子) is a Japanese citrus, it tastes like a much sharper orange and lime hybrid.

[2] From an episode of Regular Car Reviews: 1994 Dodge Viper RT/10.

[3] Absinthe is a high-proof liquor with the urban-legend that batches distilled from wormwood gave hallucinogenic effects.

[4] Tamago kake gohan (卵かけご飯,) quite literally translated to "egg on rice." It's an ubiquitous Japanese breakfast that is quite literally a bowl of rice with a raw egg. It's typically served with shoyu and mirin, with furikake as a topping.

[5] Grisaia no Meikyuu reference from Yuji's backstory.

Author's Note:

I feel like I say this every chapter, but this was extremely difficult to write. Every new chapter brings up new challenges, and this one in particular was trying to get an emotional argument out of two rational people while respecting both of them as characters and humans. It was rough. Very rough. I sat on that argument for at least a month, writing and rewriting. I scrapped two outlines and at one point wanted to just scrap the entire chapter and start from scratch. It finally came out, and while not being my best work, I am satisfied. I'm just glad to see it finally complete.

Unmade is as much a fanfic as it is a story for me to communicate my own experiences. Hachiman's suicide strategy here was one I had done during some dark times in my life. I would take my medicine and go out to bars after work and drink into the night, hoping that some higher power would just take mercy on me and end my pitiful life there. Looking back at it now, I'm glad that I failed.

I owe it to my friends for saving my life, and pulling me out from that personal hell. I'll never forget that, and I'll always appreciate you all.

Readers have made it abundantly clear that they want romantic development between Hachiman and Yukino. Rest assured: there will be romance. Just not right now. Any relationship or feelings they had for one another was in the past, they are different people now. There is no reason why Unmade's Hachiman would fall in love with Unmade's Yukino and vice versa. They're far different people now, there's nothing for them to start a relationship over other than past memories from high school. As you grow older, your high school memories tend to feel sillier and less relevant. They're adults now, and they barely know the other in the present.

They need time to understand one another before it can turn into something as powerful as love. Hopefully this chapter is a setup for a blossoming relationship that will eventually turn into romance as the story progresses. One that will feel real and justified. I repeat: THERE WILL BE ROMANCE.

Special thanks to the usual crew: Bchets, Xynovitch, thatguy8801, yahallo, the Mighty Zingy, and some_chinese_guy. Also want to extend a shoutout to some new faces in the Oregairu discord who helped: Bagration and co.

-SouBU

(Editors: Xynovitch, thatguy8801, yahallo)

Revision Log:

09/18/2020 - Updated author's note to make it clearer that there will be romance (just in case the genre and pairing tag wasn't obvious enough)