Summary: I never thought that it was possible, Yukinoshita-san, to fall in love with you anew every single day.

Notes: This fic is anachronistic; Oregairu was set in the early 2010's and this fic is decidedly not. I've kept the exact time period vague on purpose; there may be references to events that are quite recent. As is probably obvious from the story, COVID-19 also does not exist in this world. This fic is told from the POVs of Yukino and Hachiman. It should be fairly obvious which POV events are occurring from the first few lines of each section, so I've opted not to explicitly mark them out.

Thanks to GenericOregairuFan for reading earlier versions of this monstrosity. And for answering all the dumb guitar-related questions.

oOo

The sharp blare of my alarm forced its way into my consciousness. My right hand fumbled around my bed, trying to locate where I'd tossed my phone the night before in a rather futile attempt to shut off the incessant noise. After a few more blind attempts, I gave up and opened my eyes, looking around until I saw the phone perched on my bedside table. I reached over and quickly cut off the alarm.

Yawning, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, even as my mind slowly started to adjust to wakefulness. Taking a quick glance out the window revealed that it was quite early. In fact, it was so early that the sun was just barely peeking out over the horizon. That was strange. I hated mornings. I would usually sleep until the very last second before rolling out of bed and rushing to get prepared for school. So why did I set such an early alarm today then?

Ah right. I'd forgotten! Suddenly, I didn't feel nearly as tired as I had only a few moments before. After all, today was a special day.

Today marked the first day of my new life. I was officially a high school student, as of today. It was a fresh start; a new school with new classmates and new teachers. Nobody would remember the bathroom incident or the confession incident or the lunchtime incident. All of those memories weren't important anymore. I was starting high school with a clean slate.

Yesterday was the last day of spring vacation. I'd spent the entirety of the break lazing around with Vita-chan and catching up on all the manga and light novels that I'd fallen behind on while studying for entrance exams. In case you're wondering, I did well enough, since today I'd be starting school at Soubu High School, a rather prestigious high school within Chiba.

It's not too late to have your rose-tinted cherry blossom-filled youth, Hachiman! Or so I thought to myself as I stared up at the ceiling, blinking away the sleep from my eyes. Right, it was time to get moving. I wanted to get to school extra early in order to scope out my classmates. It was important to assimilate myself into a group as soon as possible, or run the risk of being the odd man out. I couldn't miss out on this opportunity.

First things first was to put on my new uniform. I'd tried it on once after getting it, but then I'd left it gathering dust in my closet. Komachi had helped me iron it the previous day and I'd hung it up in preparation for a quick start to the day right on the hook attached to my door which …

Huh?

I'd just caught sight of my door and there was definitely no uniform hanging there as I'd expected. Instead, there was simply a T-shirt and what looked to be a post-it note. Looking around the room, I found my uniform tossed rather haphazardly over the back of my chair, sitting beside my desk. That didn't seem right. I clearly remembered hanging up my uniform carefully the night before, making sure that there weren't any creases or wrinkles.

I tried to sit up to investigate closer and immediately winced. My body hurt, or more precisely, my right leg and left arm cried out in pain at the movement. That woke me up completely; all semblance of drowsiness left me immediately. This pain was abnormal; why did everything hurt so much? Honestly, it felt as though I'd been hit by a truck that didn't do a great job of sending me on to the next world.

I looked down; my leg was encased in a walking boot and my arm was wrapped in bandages. How had that happened? I couldn't recall getting injured; indeed I'd spent most of the previous day lazing around in bed. Had I managed to fall out of my bed or something? That wouldn't explain the severity of the injuries though. I was pretty sure that nobody had broken a leg falling out of a bed, unless it was the top layer of a bunk bed or something.

There were crutches lying against the side of my bed that I didn't recall leaving there the night before. In fact, I'd never used crutches in my life. What was going on?

I struggled to sit up and just barely managed to do so, although not without a grunt of exertion and a small cry of pain. Just as I was reaching for the crutches so that I could try to stand up, my mom entered the room.

"Good morning," I said hesitantly, taken aback by her sudden appearance. It was unusual that I got the opportunity to see either of my parents on a weekday. They usually worked until late and were gone before I woke up in the mornings.

"Hachiman…" she smiled at me, although it felt a little forced. Her voice was hesitant, almost as if she were afraid. "How are you feeling?"

I looked down at myself, at the unmistakably serious injuries that I had developed, seemingly in the course of a single night.

"Confused, and a little scared" I finally admitted.

Her face fell. It was hard to notice in the dim light of my room, but I saw it in the way the lines on her face tightened; how she pressed her lips together, and how her smile darkened for a brief moment.

"I see." She said, sitting down gently next to me on the bed. "Do you remember anything?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, and then tried for a bit of humor. The mood was suffocating, after all.

"Your birthday's like months away."

She didn't laugh, which only made it worse.

"What day is it, Hachiman?"

"April 1st," I responded immediately. "Did you really think I'd have forgotten that today's the first day of school?"

With slightly trembling hands, Mom handed me my phone.

"Here, take a look," She said quietly.

I turned on the screen.

May 7th stared back at me from the glaringly bright screen.

"Did they mess up the date somehow?" I asked, trying to laugh off this whole situation as a joke.

But it didn't feel like a joke. The way Mom looked at me; the slight tremor in her hands, the way she wouldn't meet my eyes. My injuries.

All of it didn't add up.

"What's going on, Mom?"

oOo

Anterograde amnesia.

That's what the doctors termed it. Basically, due to my accident, my brain's ability to process memories and store them away was damaged. According to the doctor, our everyday memories are usually stored within our short-term memories during the day and then processed overnight into long-term storage while we're asleep. But the accident had damaged that processing part of my brain, which meant that all of the accumulated memories I had from each day would disappear overnight. What already existed in my long-term memory was fine; I could still recall everything that occurred before the day of the accident perfectly. But any new memories that I had made in the month or so since the accident were systematically erased every night. I remembered nothing at all since April 1st.

My memory was essentially frozen in time; on the night before the first day of school.

They said that there was no known cure. It's a condition that even modern medicine can't treat. The doctors said that most people healed with time. It's not supposed to be irreversible damage which, considering that I could have been dead was really a lucky outcome, they told me. But the doctors did also warn me that some people never recovered. And they also mentioned that, even if I were to recover someday, nobody really knew how far into the future that would be. Perhaps I would wake up tomorrow and be able to remember the previous day. Or I could be years away from seeing any progress. But they tried to encourage me by saying that more people recovered than not, and some people started exhibiting signs of improvement within months.

In the meantime, so that I could have a semblance of continuity in my life, I used a journal to keep track of each individual day. I brought it with me everywhere, always tucked away under my arm or stored in my backpack. I used it to note down the important things that happened each day and the things that I wanted the future me to know.

I read those entries every morning, in order to have some sort of continuity in life. That was the main reason why I woke up early every morning. It wasn't out of some desire to get to school early, since of course it was no longer the first day of school. I woke up early so that I could have an extra couple of hours to go through my journals and make sure I knew what happened in the days and weeks before.

Obviously, I couldn't keep track of absolutely everything that happened each day in my journal. It wasn't as though I could interrupt a conversation and say, hold on, let me write what you said in my notebook! That'd be more than a little weird and would likely draw questions that I didn't want to answer.

To work around this problem, every night I also spent time writing down more detailed notes on my laptop; files upon files of information on the people and places I'd come across. Since my short-term memory was still fine, I could still recall everything that happened in any individual day perfectly. I would just lose those memories after I fell asleep. So I made sure to record them before going to bed.

I didn't read the detailed notes that I kept on my laptop every day. Those were too extensive and detailed for the couple of measly hours that I had every morning before school. But if I knew I'd be meeting someone that I'd met in the past, I'd read their file entry in the People section in order to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything important.

The doctors also encouraged me to keep some visual records as well. After all, it was much easier to recognize someone from a photo than from a description of how they looked or what they wore, since appearances could change over time. Thus, I took pictures of things with my phone. Places I visited. Foods I ate. It was a bit harder with people, since it wasn't common practice to take pictures of people I'd just met. But I did my best to sneak a couple of photos while pretending to be fiddling aimlessly with my phone. And in this way I somewhat managed to record my day-to-day life; to add some imagery to everything I was writing down at night.

The last piece of advice the doctors had given was that it was best to keep my amnesia a secret. The world after all, was not a nice place. It would be easy to take advantage of a high school student who couldn't remember anything past a single day. I wouldn't be able to remember anything done to me after I fell asleep after all.

Reading through the earlier journal entries, it seemed as though there was nothing to be done until my memories came back. I simply had to live with this condition. That was a tough pill to swallow. There weren't many things that I could do within the span of a day. Learning some new skill or reading a long serialized manga; I would never be able to make much progress with them because I would forget everything the next day. I couldn't even study because everything that I learned would also be forgotten the next day. And I couldn't make any friends because I would forget who they were. The most I could do was do my best to write down everything that happened during the day, especially on the rare occasions where I spoke with someone else.

That was the only way to connect with my past selves.

oOo

The first time I met Hikigaya-kun, I thought that I had killed him. It was an unexpected car accident; we were driving through the streets of Chiba at a fairly reasonable speed when suddenly he raced out onto the street, fully disregarding local traffic safety regulations. I wouldn't learn until later that he'd been attempting to save a dog that had gotten free from its owner's leash.

At the time, the only thing I could recall was our driver swearing under his breath as he slammed on the brakes. My mother, who had accompanied me to school on my matriculation day, let out a little scream of shock as did I at the sudden deceleration of our vehicle, which threw us forward due to the law of inertia. Despite our driver's best efforts, however, we were unable to avoid slamming into Hikigaya-kun and sending him tumbling perhaps thirty meters away to the sidewalk, coming to a stop facedown in a heap.

There were screams and cries for help; I remembered rushing out of the car alongside my mother, hoping and praying that the victim was alright. We'd called for an ambulance immediately and had him transported to the local hospital. They then contacted his family, who rushed over to sign the medical forms as they operated to try and save him.

In the end, they managed to stabilize him, although he was stuck in the ICU for weeks afterwards. It took him nearly a month before he was released from the hospital, and then another week before he finally showed up at school, looking a little disoriented and very uncomfortable under all of the stares that he garnered from our classmates.

I knew that he wasn't fully recovered. The doctors had said that he would require continuous monitoring, but they wouldn't tell us anything more, on account of patient confidentiality. I wondered what injuries he was still dealing with. I wondered if there would be any permanent damage.

That, truly, was the cause of quite a few sleepless nights.

In the days that followed, I felt immensely guilty as I watched him struggle to assimilate into our class. It was difficult to watch him stumble over his words while he gave his self-introduction, made only worse by a couple of snide remarks about how dumb one has to be to get hit by a car. I had only barely managed to reign in the urge to retort in Hikigaya-kun's defense.

That heavy feeling in my stomach only got worse as I watched him limp across the room after his first day of classes, his movements unsure and painful. Seeing the extent of his injuries, I knew full well that there existed a chance the accident had ruined his life. And yet he was still in the dark about exactly who was the culprit behind his current circumstances.

That nasty feeling kept getting worse as the days turned to weeks. I watched him struggle through classes, looking confused by it all, undoubtedly because he had been forced to miss nearly a month of school.

I knew that I owed Hikigaya-kun a massive debt. Nothing could ever restitute his physical health, or the time that he had missed rehabilitating in the hospital. I could spend an entire lifetime trying, but I wouldn't be able to make amends for what had happened. It was impossible to work miracles, after all. I couldn't turn back time to prevent his accident or something along those lines. I couldn't prevent the occurrence of his injuries.

But that didn't mean that I couldn't try to help him. If there was something I could do to help improve his quality of life, even just by a little bit, then I would put in all my efforts towards it.

So I resolved to watch him, to see if he required any assistance, whether with schoolwork or otherwise. But even with my supposedly benevolent intentions, I couldn't help but wonder if this was all simply hopelessly selfish of me.

After all, what I wished for most fervently was that, over time, this wretched guilty feeling would fade.

oOo

Hikigaya-kun seemed to be having serious difficulties keeping up with the course curriculum, even after a reasonable amount of time had passed for him to catch up. In keeping with my stated intentions to assist him in any way possible as recompense for the accident, I'd glanced over at him a few times during classes. He appeared to be spaced out, as if he hadn't been paying attention to lectures at all. Sometimes he'd put his head in his arms and it became difficult to ascertain if he had fallen asleep.

I hadn't taken him to be a poor student. After all, he'd tested into Soubu, and he'd also been placed into our class. The International Education class demanded excellence in all academic disciplines. It wasn't a class that anybody could test into just by cramming or studying hard purely for the sake of acing the entrance exam. The class required years of work and lofty academic ambitions that formed the base of a strong academic foundation in order to have a chance at entering. And so I couldn't understand how someone like Hikigaya-kun could have such terrible study habits and seemingly no motivation, yet still test into the class.

Was he perhaps a genius? But even if that were true, talent could only take someone so far. After all, talent without hard work was simply a waste. And there was nothing more abhorrent than wasted potential.

I resolved to speak with him. It was a strange decision for me to make. After all, I haven't chosen to reach out to another individual in a very long time. But I still remembered how he looked, passed out in the middle of a pool of his own blood. All because of me. I couldn't sit idly by as he wasted away in our classroom.

I suppose people would say that it couldn't have been my fault that day. The day of the accident. After all, I wasn't behind the wheel when it occurred. But the thing was…

The thing was that on the day of Hikigaya-kun's accident, Mother and I were having a… disagreement. I can't even recall clearly what the specific reason for our disagreement was anymore. I just remember that she had been going on and on about responsibility; about how my parents needed me to understand that I was always representing the Yukinoshita family. About how disappointed they were that I didn't attend the last family gala. About how she was upset that I wanted to move into my own apartment, closer to school. I must have snapped and said something disagreeable.

Like I mentioned previously, I can't recall what happened in the moment anymore, but I know that Mother was distracting our driver as she lectured me, because her voice was rising in anger at my disagreeable responses, which must have made it incredibly difficult to focus on the road. At the height of our argument; that must have been when Hikigaya-kun appeared on the road.

Of course, all of this could have been avoided if he had not simply jumped out onto a busy street without checking for vehicles like a small child. His injuries were partly his fault as well.

But that didn't stop that uncomfortable twinge in my stomach.

Perhaps if I had been a better daughter, none of this would have happened.

oOo

May 10th

Classes were frustrating. I'd spent all that time in junior high studying for entrance exams and now all that effort was going to waste. I couldn't retain any information from my classes, after all. It felt as though my life and the people around me were just passing me by, and I was just frozen in time on April 1st. And honestly, that scared me a lot. I knew that I was quite literally missing out on life. What would happen if, years down the line, I finally recovered? How would I be able to fit into society again?

I shouldn't think about those things. The doctors said that it was imperative to stay positive.

Anyways, it's become apparent to me that I needed to bring something to do during class. I could only feign interest in what sensei was teaching for so long if I couldn't understand the material. According to my journals, it seemed as though I'd done my best to pay attention and learn the first few days of school, but that quickly became an impossible chore. The curriculum quickly moved beyond my current knowledge.

Most of today's classes were just filled with mind-numbing boredom. I just sat around at my desk and did my best to pretend that I was paying attention.

Still, one interesting thing happened today.

A pink-haired girl came up to me to introduce herself. Yuigahama Yui-san. I've added her to the People section of the laptop, even if nothing really noteworthy happened. Although I guess the fact that a girl approached me of her own free will, without being coerced or dared into it, is a noteworthy event in and of itself. I'll take it!

Yuigahama seemed nice enough, although perhaps a little too nervous. Still, I wasn't sure why she approached me. Mostly because she wasn't part of our class. It was also strange to see her so nervous, since it's been about a month into school and I think she's already pretty entrenched in the popular circles. The blonde girl that came to collect her from our class when lunch was over would certainly qualify as a queen bee of any class. Yeah, it was all very strange. I got a lot of whispers and stares during afternoon classes because of it.

Still, even though Yuigahama didn't say much, make sure that you remember that you met her! Even if the only things she said were a shy hello and then some small talk. She kind of just stood around awkwardly during the entire lunch period and then left our classroom once that blonde girl showed up. Maybe it was a dare of some sorts after all?

At any rate, I doubt I'll speak with her often, and it probably won't be too difficult to steer the conversation in safe directions. But I still need to be careful; I can't let her find out about my condition.

Recruiting season for clubs ends tomorrow. I had wanted to check out some of them, but I probably should avoid it. Would be hard to interact with clubmates on a daily basis.

oOo

May 15th

There's this girl in our class that keeps sneaking glances at me. I think her name is Yukinoshita Yukino. I don't know most of the people in the class, but I knew her name. She's pretty well-known, after all.

Yukinoshita Yukino is the most gorgeous girl in the grade, and it's not even really close. She's got long black hair, perfect features with vivid bright blue eyes, a slim willowy figure, and long legs encased in thigh-high stockings that were simultaneously more modest and more stimulating than anything other girls wore.

That was not my opinion, by the way, but instead what I overheard a couple of the other boys in the class whispering about during lunch break today.

That's why I found it really weird when she, a few times during each period, would glance over at me, even though I'm sitting way off in the corner. I don't know if this is the first time that this has happened, but this seems to certainly be the first time that I've really paid attention to her.

Now, I've made the mistake in the past of thinking that a pretty girl was looking over at me before. This happened in junior high, but when I confronted her about it, she'd given me this grossed out look.

"I was just checking out the time and you happened to be sitting under the clock. Surely you didn't think I was looking at you, right? As if!"

I stopped reading too much into glances or looks after that.

But this girl kept looking over at me. And I know there's nothing remotely interesting in my little corner. There's no clocks, windows, posters, or anything else that might draw her interest.

Could it be…?

No! Bad Hachiman! It's like you never learn.

And besides, even if something did exist, it's not like anything would have happened. I wouldn't even be able to remember her tomorrow, for fuck's sake. I'd probably just be wondering why she was looking over at me again if I hadn't written this all down.

I wonder if maybe the same thing has happened before. She's not in my People folder on my laptop, so she's clearly never talked to me. I was probably just imagining things then.

.

.

.

I should try reading some shorter manga to distract myself. I could probably finish some of them in a couple hours, and it'd hopefully help me stave off some boredom at school.

oOo

May 19th

The doc suggested that I take up a hobby. Some sort of activity to pass the time. I asked him why. I wouldn't even be able to remember anything, after all. If I played tennis, for example, I wouldn't even remember what I'd trained the day before. How would I get better?

The doc told me that it'd be good for me though. He said to do something new. And to make sure that I really enjoyed whatever it was that I chose to do. He mentioned that, with my condition, enjoyment right off the bat was important. After all, I didn't have the luxury of learning to love something. It had to be love at first sight. Because every day, I'd have to fall in love with it all over again.

I didn't really know what to do. I'd always enjoyed writing as a hobby, but I don't think that'd work, unless I wrote short stories that could be completed in a day. Anything left overnight… even if I left the most detailed notes for myself, I still wouldn't be able to remember exactly what my intent was behind any particular scene. Or how I wanted a particular character to act. I'd tried writing something after the accident, but the end product felt disjointed. Like it had been written by a group of people instead of a single person.

There's no school tomorrow since it's the weekend. I'll check out the library. Maybe there'll be something interesting that I can try.

oOo

Nee-san visited unexpectedly today. She came unannounced, as per usual. Simply waltzed right through the door as if she owned the place. I had, perhaps naively, thought that there must be something, now that she was a university student, which would hold her interest, but it appeared that she still had nothing better to do on her weekends than to torment me.

I had no desire to stay in her presence for any longer than was strictly necessary, and so I made up a story that I had prior commitments and left the apartment, refusing her offers for a free ride. Those offers were never free, after all. It was just another chance for her to poke her nose into my life.

Once outside, however, I was rather unsure of where I should go to spend my day. I had originally planned on spending some time today practicing on my new Martin guitar, a recent, rather expensive, birthday present from Father. But the gift was stashed away in my room, and I had no desire to return to that apartment so long as my sister inhabited it.

There were not very many places that held my interest which I could visit. I considered patronizing the bookstore; I had just finished reading Sanshiro and needed something else to read. But that seemed quite uneconomical, as I had just recently purchased five additional novels in the past week.

They were, of course, sitting on my desk in my apartment, which for aforementioned reasons meant that they were currently inaccessible.

And so, I finally settled on the public library as my final destination. It would make for a nice quiet atmosphere to spend the day. I could perhaps even find an unreserved private room; exam season was still weeks away after all.

I hopped on the train after a brief walk to the station and rode the five stops or so to the library. As I suspected, the library was fairly empty by its usual standards. I am sure that the place would be absolutely crawling with people in the weeks leading up to entrance exams.

I headed first to the classics section, a corner of the library devoted to the works of the most celebrated Japanese authors. Soseki, Oe, Tanizaki, Dazai, Ogawa, and many others' works resided on these shelves. Quite a few also found their way onto the shelf in my own home, but there were always more options to be found in a catalog as vast as the library. I picked up Ogawa's The Housekeeper and the Professor while here, as in my experience I had thoroughly enjoyed her work. [1]

Adjacent to this was the section devoted to international classics; works by authors outside of Japan that had achieved international acclaim. I saw Ishiguro, perhaps one of Japan's most famous expatriate authors, take pride of place at the front and center of the display. I selected a copy of his latest novel, Never Let Me Go, as I passed by.

Once I'd decided on my reading for the day, I headed down to the private rooms on the first floor. Those were the best places to read in peace; the public study room usually had a few students, even if it was currently not exam season.

I was just passing by the music section; a section of the library with musical scores and instructional material when I saw him. I had to blink a few times to make sure that I was not hallucinating things, but there was Hikigaya-kun, standing in front of the music section with what looked like a few instruction manuals for various instruments held in his hands, a confused expression on his face.

I had never expected that Hikigaya-kun would have had any interest in music. Unconsciously, I had already started approaching him, slipping the books that I'd planned on reading into my bag as I went. It seemed as though I would have to take a little detour.

Hikigaya-kun didn't seem to notice me, even as I approached him. That was a little surprising, because I had been sure that his gaze had passed over me while I had been approaching him. Of course, I was not dressed in the usual Soubu High School uniform, but considering that we spent eight hours every weekday in class together, I had expected that he would at least recognize me. Perhaps he was intentionally sending me a message, telling me that he did not wish to speak with me?

I struggled to recall a reason as to why. I do not believe that he was ever informed that I had been a part of his accident. It was Mother that had handled the details of his treatment with his family, after all. And we had not had a single interaction at school.

For a brief moment, my heart skipped a beat as I remembered all the times that I had observed him while at school, wondering how I should approach him to make amends. Perhaps he had noticed my interest? But I had always been discreet…

I quickly discarded that notion as absurd. He had never given any indication at school that he had noticed my attention, so things should not be any different outside of school.

"Hikigaya-kun!" I called out as I approached him from behind.

He jumped a little, as if surprised to hear his name, and turned around rather quickly. His eyes met mine and I felt an instinctive feeling of revulsion. His eyes really were terrible, like the eyes of the fish lying on slabs of ice at the fishmonger.

He frowned at me, as if trying to place my face. Was my casual appearance really so different from my appearance at school that he couldn't even recognize me while I stood mere feet away from him?

"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice quiet. It sounded coarse, as if he hadn't had much use for it recently. "Do I know you?"

"We're classmates, Hikigaya-kun." I said, perhaps slightly more sharply than usual. There was a strange feeling in my chest; an unpleasant one. As if I was somehow upset that he had not recognized me, as absurd as that sounded.

He took a step back, as if he hadn't expected that response. Then he smiled sheepishly and scratched his cheek awkwardly.

"Err, sorry about that. I was involved in a pretty bad accident at the start of term, so I might have missed you during introductions. Could you remind me again who you are? Have we met before?"

I sighed. Perhaps he really just slept through his classes without a care in the world. It seemed as though he really paid very little attention to his surroundings. How irresponsible.

I inclined my head slightly.

"Yukinoshita Yukino, Class 1J. I believe that I sit two seats back and one seat to the left of you. It's nice to meet you."

He looked startled.

"Y-you're Yukinoshita Yukino? The… the most beauti-I mean, the really popular girl from our grade? The one that everyone talks about?"

I stared at him. He shifted and fidgeted in place.

"Somehow, I'm slightly more apprehensive about you now than before, Hikigaya-kun."

"Sorry! I didn't mean it in a bad way. It's just… people talk about you, that's all."

"And do you believe everything that you hear?" I asked, keeping all emotion from my voice.

He shook his head quickly, almost too quickly.

"Of course not! I was just surprised that you were the one to approach me, that's all. Normally, girls like you… well… never mind that," he trailed off awkwardly.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Girls like me?"

He gave a small, sheepish laugh. "Well, girls like you usually don't talk to me."

"And yet here we are, holding discourse that vaguely resembles a conversation."

"Ah… yeah…"

"There would be a marked improvement in our conversation if you properly introduce yourself as well, Hikigaya-kun."

"Oh… yeah I guess that makes sense. Hikigaya Hachiman. Err… Class 1J as well, but I suppose you knew that already. It's- it's nice to meet you too."

He was stumbling over his words; it was as clear as day that he was nervous. I supposed that he had slipped up and called me the most beautiful girl of our year. But that did make me wonder, if he had noticed my beauty, why hadn't he recognized me approaching him today?

I decided to just ask him about it.

"You know, Hikigaya-kun, I was surprised that you didn't recognize me when I first approached you. We are in the same class, after all. And clearly, you know of my reputation."

I left the question unspoken, but it was easy to tell that I had touched on something sensitive, because he looked quite uncomfortable, staring down at the music books in his hands and determinedly not meeting my eyes. He was hiding something.

"L-like I said, I just… I haven't really met anyone properly from school yet. So I guess I must have just not made the connection. You look a little different from how you do at school." he stammered.

"Hmm," I hummed. He was lying. I didn't look any different aside from the uniform. I had even kept the ribbons in my hair. But I decided to leave things be. It wasn't the time or place to ask, and it wasn't as though I particularly wanted to make him uncomfortable or force him to reveal the secrets he so clearly wished to hide. Quelling my natural curiosity, I turned my attention to what he had been holding in his hands all this time.

"So it looks like you're looking into learning how to play an instrument, is that right?"

He looked up at me and then back down at his hands, as if just realizing what he was holding. I was beginning to seriously wonder how someone as scatterbrained as Hikigaya-kun had managed to test into the International Education class. But I supposed that he must have a few hidden talents.

"I was just looking," he finally responded, tucking the books that he'd been holding under his arm.

"Was there a particular instrument you were thinking of learning to play?"

"Uhm…-" he hesitated. "I'm not sure, they all look really hard to learn. I've never studied any instrument in my life, you know?"

"I see. Well, learning music is certainly a joy in and of itself."

"You're saying that as though you have experience playing an instrument."

"I do indeed."

"What instrument, if you don't mind my asking?"

A slight pause. Nobody outside of my family knew of this particular hobby of mine.

Hikigaya-kun seemed to have picked up on my hesitation.

"You don't have to say if you don't want to," he said hurriedly, holding up his hands.

"I play guitar, Hikigaya-kun."

"Guitar? Really?"

I raised another eyebrow.

"Is that so surprising to you?"

"I would've thought you preferred something slightly more classical, I guess," he responded, scratching his cheek.

"What gave you that impression?"

He shrugged, "Just a feeling, I suppose. But guitar, eh? Sounds cool. Do you like it?"

I nodded. "It's quite enjoyable."

"Hmmm," he hummed, tapping his chin in thought before looking around at the shelves around us.

"Are there guitar books for beginners?"

"I would assume that there are plenty."

"Err, could you give me a couple of examples? I might take a look at them later."

"Instead of books… would you like me to teach you how to play guitar, Hikigaya-kun?"

Was that my voice that just blurted out those words? Did I really just offer to teach him?

"I-I mean, if you want to learn how to play guitar that is," I quickly stuttered out, realizing that Hikigaya-kun had, in fact, not picked an instrument of choice yet. I could feel the warmth rushing to my cheeks as I continued to ramble on, digging myself an ever-deeper hole of embarrassment.

"It's just… I've played guitar for a long time and I-I would really love playing d-duets sometime s-so I figured I'd offer to teach you and I-I know how hard it can be when you first start playing so-"

"Sure," he said, which stopped me completely in my tracks.

"I-huh?"

Hikigaya-kun gave me a small smile.

"Sure, Yukinoshita-san. If you're willing to teach me, I'd like to try learning how to play the guitar. I think having a teacher would help immensely, after all."

oOo

May 20th

A girl from school approached me at the library today. And not just any girl.

Yukinoshita Yukino herself.

She really was just as beautiful as people said she was. Of course, I couldn't recognize her at all, but even before she introduced herself, I kind of just had this feeling like I knew it was her.

She seemed a little weirded out at first. Probably because I couldn't remember her, even though I was supposed to. I mean, I'm sure this is the first time that she's ever been treated as forgettable, considering how she looks. Thankfully, she didn't ask too many questions.

She saw that I was looking into musical instruments though. That seemed to interest her a lot.

She offered to teach me how to play the guitar. Apparently she's quite the enthusiast. I don't know what compelled me to do so, but for some reason I accepted her offer. It was a spur of the moment decision. I regret it now.

I didn't want anyone to find out about my condition. But it'll be hard, really hard, to keep this from her long-term. I've created a folder on the laptop specifically for Yukinoshita Yukino now. Since I'm probably going to be spending more time together with her than anyone else outside of my family, I'll need to remember everything that she mentions. Especially if it comes to how to actually play the guitar. It wouldn't make sense if she teaches me something and then I promptly forget all about it the next time, after all.

She told me that I should go over to her place tomorrow so that we could get started. Apparently she lives alone in her own apartment. Her family's super rich, I guess. That made me really nervous. Does she just not care about the implications of a high school boy going over to a high school girl's home while they're both alone?! Does that not matter at all to her or is she completely oblivious to subtext?!

This was a bad idea. No, a terrible idea. What the hell were you thinking, the me from a few hours ago? I can't even make the claim that the me from a few hours ago wasn't really me, because I haven't gone to sleep yet. So it's still me! It's not tomorrow's me that fucked up. And it's not yesterday's me that fucked up either. It's ME. Today's me!

I'm going to bed.

oOo