"Humankind cannot gain something without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost." -Hiromu Arakawa
A piercing feeling jutted through my scalp like my palpably undeveloped brain was tickled with an icepick. The funny copper taste swirling around in my mouth was doing little to help the rolling bouts of nausea that made my eyes water and twisted my insides in on themselves. Fibers of cotton from my sweatshirt, shredded from auto glass, grew heavy as blood pooled on my back squeezing under the heavy weight on my chest that made it hard to breathe. If only it was a heart attack and not the 80 kilo laborer that had landed me on the hood of this brand new blue convertible in the first place. His pulse was weak and breathing shallow, but if there was anywhere to be a hair away from death, it was a hospital parking lot. If only I'd been faster. If only I noticed that I-beam falling sooner. If only I didn't join that goddamn club.
None of that mattered now. All you have to do is get up, Hachiman. GET UP!
I pushed myself off the car, hearing the glass embedded in my body scrape against the steel hood. As I threw the man over my shoulder in a fireman's carry, I saw what was previously an ooze coming from the mushy mess on his left leg turn into a pour. A crowd had already gathered around us, their phone cameras capturing my every move. Maybe it was that fact some kid in a mask had been falling through the air at high speed or that I wasn't some mess of pulpy pancake on the pavement, but the crowd seemed more in shock than the man bleeding out in front of them.
"Don't worry folks, I'll leave a note with my insurance."
Whether it was the concussion or the adrenaline, I didn't know, but a joke seemed like the right thing to round off the shattering of these people's reality.
I took one step, then another, before my legs shuddered and I tumbled to the ground. The crowd gathered around looking down in disgust or was it admiration? For once their faces showed something more than pity or revulsion. Was this how I die? Having failed in saving anyone, but given praise for simply having tried? If only I was so lucky.
"Back up! Make some room!"
Soon we were being lifted on to stretchers, surrounded by doctors, and wheeled into the emergency room. I looked up at a familiar women, her eyes meeting mine through the slit in my red balaclava. A flash of confused recognition appeared on her face as she reached towards the bottom edge of my mask.
With a squeak, I whispered to the doctor, "Please don't tell my mom," before tensing my arms and throwing myself off the stretcher.
An Uncertain Leap
Chapter 1: The Cost of Doing Business
These past three days of being shuffled from one tourist trap to the next had seldom left time for the presence of an unfamiliar skyline to unsettle me as it had this morning. There was little to view from the window of my cramped hotel room, obstructed by vegetation and façades of traditional Japanese architecture. I'd found some peace in at least pretending I wasn't far from the comforting shadow of Chiba's silhouette. Now, wandering through the streets of Kyoto, I finally figured out what had been itching at my conscience. The people seemed the same as they ever were. Whether it was some kids walking to the park, an elderly couple waiting for the bus, or the group of salarymen bantering during their cigarette break, I felt a distinct isolation from all of them. No matter how far I traveled, I would never escape the walls I had built around myself. They would uproot and follow me anywhere and be just as comfy. Far removed from frivolity, I was a thinking man in a thoughtless world, a loner. Immune from drama or levity, things only seemed to hurt when the fingers of those less fortunate tried prodding where they didn't belong.
"Stop poking me women!"
Yuigahama Yui had been a pain in my side since the day she walked into the club room. I just didn't think she'd take the words so literally when I told her this morning.
"It's not my fault someone overslept an hour." She said, blithely putting her hands on her hips in a show of authority.
"It's not oversleeping if you don't know you're supposed to be waking up."
"What else would you be doing? This is our free day."
The coveted "free day," the last day of the second-year field trip, where raijuu flock to disturb local landmarks with constant yammering about who liked who and did you hear who got knocked up.
"Yes, It's a free day. A day where I'm free to do as I please. That includes sleeping in." I said
"You're no fun. Yukinon even made reservations and everything! You're lucky I was waiting-" she let out a cough. "I mean passing by your room."
Reservations? Oh…
"I thought that was just for you and her," I said, shrinking in on myself a little.
A perplexed look flashed across Yuigahama's face, and she looked away. I watched her light brown side bun bounce as we walked silently and ignored the mutter of "stupid Hiki," which I barely heard over the passing traffic. I couldn't be sure whether it was the busy schedule or my continued putrescence, but it seemed that the trip had started fraying even Yuigahama's normally ebullient soul.
I took her tight-lipped look as a peace offering, and my thoughts turned towards the skyline once more.
—
From the simple white walls to the wooden thatched roof, the cafe wore its adherence to tradition on its sleeve in a show of its non-conformity to traditional pricing. While it stood in contrast to minimalist 550 yen lattes, even passing these types of places left an unwelcoming ache in my right rear pocket. Yuigahama, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, almost bounced on her heels in excitement as we crossed the threshold into the courtyard. In a hushed voice, she started to rave about the cafe.
"I saw pictures online but it looks so much prettier in person. I hope they still have the same menu because I think I already know what I wanna order. They have this really delish looking egg breakfast and…"
Her words stopped as my ears were filled with sounds of flowing water and the quiet mulling of the high-class patrons eating their brunch. My peripheral, spattered with green leaves and stone, scanned for our club president as Yuigahama gave a starry-eyed once-over to the whole place. For once, even I had to admit I found the whole display slightly charming.
Her sapphire eyes cut through the tranquil atmosphere and made the hair at the back of my neck stand at attention. She seemed to fit into the cafe so well that I hadn't noticed her sipping espresso on the balcony. I countered her with a piercing stare and then realized it was the other way around. The cafe fit her like a designer purse or a Mercedes limo. Despite all of us wearing basically the same clothes, her blue blood seeped through the black velvet seams of her school uniform. As we approached the table, she acknowledged us with a flick of her inky black hair.
"Oh, awfully late, aren't you?"
Her body remained perfectly still as she gracefully rested the demitasse cup on its saucer with a barely audible clink.
"Good morning Yuigahama-san, I hope Hikigaya-kun didn't give you too much trouble." She flashes a devious look in my direction, clearly enjoying poking at my apparent tardiness.
"Oh no, he wasn't that much trouble, just the normal Hiki-ing out. Nothing I can't handle." She placed her fists on her hips in a pose, like waking me up from deep sleep was some sort of heroic accomplishment. She'd been talking to my sister too much.
"Oi! I told you to stop using my name as an adjective." I said between gritted teeth. Of course thats when my caffeine headache decided it was time to make itself known.
Yukinoshita cleared her throat, interrupting my attempt to drill my eyes into the side of Yuigahama's head.
"I suppose we should get to ordering, there's much to handle today."
—
Yukinoshita's hand rested on the face of her purple notebook as she rubbed her manicured index finger across the leather binding. Sun shone through the eastern-facing window, highlighting the disinterested look on her face as she watched the horizon. Yukinoshita Yukino was a beautiful girl. Not in the way light shines through her smile or any of that romantic mushy bullshit. She was statuesque, from the stately manner she carried herself to the royal aloofness that made everyone around her seem small. In a way, they were. I'm sure that if we were born 200 years ago, I would get my head chopped off for simply making eye contact, but with it being the 21st century, she had to settle for daggered stares and verbal barbs.
"Another cup of coffee, please," I pleaded with the waitress as she passed by our table.
Both Yuigahama and I had a little sticker shock when the menus arrived, but Yukinoshita's willingness to pick up the tab stopped me from getting up and leaving altogether. Number 57 of my 108 loner skills: humility in the face of free food.
"So, Hikigaya-kun, have you made any progress with Tobe?"
Oh yeah… That.
"He hasn't stopped talking about Ebina since we got here. Besides that, It's been hard to get a read considering my uh… distance," I said, feeling Yukinoshita's gaze scrutinizing my hunched-over frame.
"You mean your off-putting demeanor and antisocial behavior got in the way."
"Yup."
Yukinoshita redirected her attention to Yuigahama, clasping her hands in front of her like a store manager giving their bi-annual employee review.
"And you, Yuigahama? Anything new to report with Hina-san?"
"Uhmm… she seems the same as ever."
"You mean entirely uninterested besides the occasional fujoshi outburst?" I said, laughing under my breath a little.
"She's not like that- I mean, she's just a little- yeah, pretty much…" Yuighama scratched the back of her head nervously, flashing an annoyed look in my direction.
"Well, let's ensure our hard work doesn't go to waste," Yukinoshita said, opening her purple notebook and revealing a yellow manila folder placed underneath.
"We should work on finding the location for Tobe-san's confession. If we start with the Tori Corridor, we should take the bus to Tofukuji temple and then Kitano Tenmangu..."
Yukinoshita continued listing more potential shrines and UNESCO sights, but I couldn't help but think this whole ordeal was a waste of time. Tobe was equally an airhead and a jock, maybe being rejected for once would finally deflate his ballooning ego. Watching the 'positive attitude' fade from his face would be a good change of pace from his usual "broing out with the boys," and I'd been given front-row tickets. Thus were the limited benefits of joining the service club.
"Ew, gross." Yuigahama's face twisted in disgust. "Hiki, stop thinking gross things."
"It is quite obvious, Hikigaya-kun." Yukinoshita said, pitching in on the dog pile.
"Can't help it. I wear my heart on my sleeve," I mumbled into the ceramic of my coffee cup.
Yuigahama rolled her eyes while a look of amusement flashed across Yukinoshita's face before returning to its typical air of stoicism.
"There is one more matter we must discuss."
The server brought our food to the table, placing our breakfast in front of us in a slow hurry up, the plates barely making a deep "clunk" as they hit the lacquered oak surface. Scrambled eggs with flecks of green, Canadian bacon, and an arugula side salad. My stomach rumbled with my need to consume overpowering Yukinoshita's words until an all too familiar name dragged my consciousness, kicking and screaming, back into the conversation.
"…Hiratsuka-sensei has agreed to drive me to do some business for my father. I will rendezvous with you both afterward. Can you be at Tofukuji by 3:30?" Yukinoshita tapped on the manila folder with an anxiety that seemed distinctly out of character.
Yuigahama, also holding back the urge to scarf down her plate, shot her eyes in my direction for a moment and looked past Yukinoshita, unable or unwilling to meet her gaze. She paused, as if debating something before she steeled her look.
"We can go with you, if you want."
"It's not a big deal, Yuigahama-san. I wouldn't want to waste your free day with such trivial matters."
It didn't take a genius to know something was throwing Yukinoshita off, or maybe it did. Stop pushing Yuigahama.
"It's no biggy. We don't mind, do we, Hiki?"
"Well, I could do with a nap after thi-" I felt a sharp kick to my shin from across the table. "Yeah, sure. No problemo."
"Well, If you guys don't mind." Yukinoshita's face twisted itself into an unfamiliar smile. I guess that was her way of showing she was nervous.
—
Hiratsuka leaned against the side of a rental minivan, the last remnants of a Marlboro Red resting between her lips, watching as we left the cafe. Her black pantsuit projected authority as her eyes scrutinized our group. My homeroom teacher stood five or so centimeters over me, and further exacerbated by her heeled dress boots, she was one of the few people left who could still make me feel like a child, made all the worse by the fact she still was one. She flicked her cigarette away before addressing Yukinoshita.
"What are they doing here?"
"They insisted they come along," Yukinoshita responded with a touch of fatigue.
Hiratsuka gestured for Yukinoshita to come closer, exchanging in some hushed conversation.
"What do you think they're talking about?" Yuigahama whispered while rocking on her heels.
The puzzle pieces floating around my mind finally put themselves together, and then I realized,
"It's a test."
"What do you mean?"
Yukinoshita's father was a Chiba prefectural diet member and the CEO of Yukinoshita Enterprises, a prominent contracting company. Her mother managed their estate, along with being a professional ice-cold bitch. In other words, they were modern royalty. If they just needed some documents delivered, they could pay anyone to do that, but if you wanted to tell a business partner they're getting screwed, you'd want someone close to her father to show respect, but who didn't have any power to affect the situation. The solution: a schoolgirl with a heart of ice.
"She's delivering bad news. They want to see if she has the stomach for it."
"OMG that's so messed up."
"Yeah, imagine being the poor schmuck getting sacked by a high schooler."
Yuigahama gave an indignant sigh. "That's not what I'm saying. What about how Yukino feels?"
I couldn't help but echo the words my father told me when he started working overtime on weekends.
"There's always a cost to doing business."
"But-"
"You two! Get in." Hiratsuka pointed towards the gray minivan.
Climbing into the van, we buckled our seatbelts, and began our journey through Kyoto's lunch-hour traffic.
AN:
For those who are confused on the timeline, this story is starting the third day of the Kyoto trip.
This is planned as a multi-chapter story. I'll try to update somewhat regularly. Along with every chapter is going to be a music recommendation. Just know my taste is better than yours so I would recommend checking out the song every chapter.
Feedback appreciated, even if it's just schizo posting or insults.
If someone finds this promising enough to beta, DMs are open.
First song will be one of my favorites. Pick Up Smoking by The 3rd Street Band