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I slammed a sheaf of papers against the table. Its contents were as eyebrow‐ raising as the Dead Sea Scrolls.
"…what the hell is this?"
It was early morning. As my eyes fell over the words on the page, a strange chill ran down my spine. The cause of this uncomfortable sense of déjà vu was, of course, the outline for the next volume of Zaimokuza Yoshiteru‐sensei's story, which he had put excruciating detail into. Would it have killed him to finish the first volume before starting the next one?
Not that I was much better. I bounced from one project to the next like a fucking red rubber ball. The vanishing gradient problem. The collars conjecture. Loop quantum gravity. I could never stay focused on anything for very long. I think that's part of why I didn't have any papers to my name. Part of it was because I wasn't very good. All computation that other people had already done before. That was me.
But back to Zaimokuza's story. It made no sense whatsoever, and there were glaring plot holes just from the outline. The only thing I liked about it was that the protagonist was a lone swordsman.
Those who are above everyone else are, by definition, alone. True heroes are loners. To be a loner is to have strength. Having no attachment to others means having nothing to protect. The urge to protect is basically nothing but a weakness. Achilles, the Ancient Greek hero, and Benkei, the most powerful warrior monk, were both defeated precisely because they had a weakness. If only they had no weaknesses, they would undoubtedly have gone down in history as the victors.
It stood to reason that someone who has no weaknesses, no burdens to protect and no attachment to others is the strongest for those exact reasons.
In other words, I am the wisest.
The trashy setting Zaimokuza came up with revolved entirely around his overpowered swordsman, to the extent that he came off as a hack. Everything else was crap, so I wrote it in red. This. Is. Crap. …there, all good.
Just as a feeling of blissful satisfaction came over me from doing my job, my little sister Komachi finished preparing breakfast. Since both our parents had already left for work, only Komachi and I remained in the living room.
An apron‐clad Komachi set down two servings of breakfast with a clatter. If you ask me, wearing an apron over a tank top and shorts is really not a good idea. It looked like she was wearing a naked apron. Which frankly I didn't appreciate. Maybe if she were some other cute girl I could get behind it.
She set down the golden brown scones and coffee right in front of me. Oh, and a jar of jam was propped up next to them. The appetising scent of perfectly cooked scones and the aroma of well‐made coffee resounded beautifully, playing a musical suite. The various kinds of jams were suite (get it?) as well ‐ it was a Pretty Cure breakfast.
"What's today look like?" Komachi asked.
"It's… it's too early to tell. We'll see how the day develops. Itadakimasu," I said.
"Yep yep, it's chow time," Komachi sang. "Itadakimasu for me too."
The two of us clapped our hands together and then crammed scones into our mouths.
"I went for something a bit more exotic for breakfast today. Scones are Ingrish, aren't they?"
"…what's 'Ingrish' supposed to be? Some new killer move?"
"Nope, it means super English‐y."
"You serious? I thought for sure it was British."
"No way, onii‐chan. There's no such country as British."
"…England is a part of Great Britain, which is known internationally as the United Kingdom. So UK‐style means British. Just a bit of trivia for you."
"W‐whatever! Ingrish is a Japanese word now! Like great‐o g'day‐o!"
…great‐o g'day‐o didn't sound like English or Japanese to me. Ignoring Komachi's lame excuses, I picked up the condensed milk. That reminded me ‐ you could say putting condensed milk in your cup and drinking it MAX Coffee style is Chiba‐ish, or Chibash for short. While we're at it, you could call a basketball anime set in the near future Basquash.
"You know," I said, "when you think of English people, doesn't grey tea come to mind?"
"Yeah, I know, but you like coffee better, big brother. I thought that would make my Komachi points go up."
"Mm. I reckon your points went up a bit. When you have a point system, it's nice when it's easy to understand."
Even better if the choices 'yes' and 'no' were displayed clearly, along with her affection levels. There'd be no such thing as misunderstandings if you chose 'no' and you could clearly see her affection levels going down, so giving up on her would be an easy matter. That alone would save countless hapless boys, I can assure you. I was such a hapless boy. I didn't understand girls. I think Komachi made it easy on me intentionally.
As I uttered my answer, stirring my (fake) MAX Coffee, Komachi dropped her scone with a start. Her face was pale and her shoulders trembled all over.
"O‐onii‐chan, you're acting weird…"
"Huh?"
"It's strange! Usually, you get annoyed and treat me like an idiot when I say this sort of stuff. I feel your love through your coldness!"
"And you call me weird." Just how sensitive was she?
"Anyway, that was a joke."
So Komachi said, but it was scary that I couldn't tell how much of it was really a joke. If my little sister was a pervert who got off on being given the cold shoulder, then I had no idea how to interact with her from now on. It bothered me. It seemed as if snubbing her every day had made her points go up steadily. What was with this warped sibling love?
"Onii‐chan, you've been weird lately, you know? You've been jumping through projects…? That's normal for you, though. I got it ‐ your eyes look off…? But they were like that from the beginning. Uh, your comebacks are half‐assed…? That's also pretty much inborn. Hm. Anyway, you're acting weird!"
"Either insult me or show your concern for me. Pick one." I couldn't decide whether she loved me or hated me. "Anyway, it's been humid lately. It's easy for things to go off ‐ your eyes and your nature."
"Ooh, what you said is pretty true!"
Komachi's plain show of admiration kind of bothered me a little. I puffed out my chest and chuckled boastfully, but when I thought about it, she had actually said something fairly mean‐spirited to me, hadn't she?
"But, you know, it's awful around June," I went on. "No public holidays, it rains a lot, and it's kinda humid. They call June the month of joy, but there's nothing joyful about it. What's up with that?"
"You just suck."
"I‐I see…"
Komachi was a surprisingly harsh judge. It was strangely alienating for something you said so proudly to be utterly denied. I think I understood Hiratsuka‐sensei's feelings a little better now.
Speaking of Hiratsuka‐sensei, I realised I had to get going to school about now. I'd be subjected to her iron fist as punishment yet again if I was late. She liked to hit me. I think that's how she showed her concern but I didn't like being hit. What were we? First graders?
I scoffed down the remainder of my scone and slurped down my Chiba‐ish coffee.
"I gotta go now," I called out to Komachi.
"Oh, I'll go with you." Her cheeks bulging with scones like a squirrel's face, Komachi eagerly started changing her clothes. I've told her this before, but could she please not change in front of me? I didn't need that.
"I'm going ahead."
As Komachi's drawn‐out groan sounded behind me, I walked out the entrance and into the outside world, where the distinctive muggy atmosphere of the rainy season wrapped itself around me like a coil.
Ever since the workplace tour, I could not recall seeing an open blue sky.
The muggy air lingered inside the school building. The discomfort was further exacerbated by the crowd that had gathered around the entrance in the morning rush to school.
The word loner makes you think of someone hiding in a dark corner, but when you reached my level of loner, you'd rather wear your loner qualities on your sleeve. And so, as I stood alone at school, my surroundings formed an air pocket like the eye of a hurricane.
It had to be tough on people with friends, what with the humidity from being surrounding by so many people causing the protein in their bodies to rise above 36 degrees. A loner could spend the entire rainy season in summer with abnormal levels of comfort. With good ventilation, they could live a peaceful school life. As I was changing into my indoor shoes at the entrance, I looked up and encountered a familiar face.
"Oh…"
Yuigahama, who was fitting on a pair of loafers, averted her face. She seemed awfully lost.
I didn't look away. "Yo," I called out to her in my usual tone of voice.
"…um, hi." And without saying anything more, I slung my schoolbag over my shoulder.
Between the two of us, only one set of footsteps sounded against the linoleum floor. And those footsteps were swallowed up by the sounds of everyone else's footsteps.
The delicate situation between Yuigahama and I had not changed over Saturday and Sunday, and it went on and on for some days after that until before we knew it, it was Friday.
She didn't holler some morning greeting at me, and we didn't walk side‐by‐side all the way up to the classroom. We had returned to an exceedingly uneventful life, just the same as before.
Okay. I'd played it cool. Everything was back to square one.
Originally, a loner existed not to get in other people's way. They couldn't hurt people they were never involved with. They were a clean, eco‐friendly, LOHAS‐ approved organism.
I regained my peace of mind by pressing the reset button and Yuigahama was free to return to her riajuu life, no longer constrained by her sense of guilt. By all accounts, it was not the wrong choice to take. You could even say it was the right choice.
There was really no need for her to be nice to me over saving her dog. That was just a thing of chance. It was on the same level as picking up someone's lost wallet or giving up a seat for an elderly person. Afterwards, you'd smile to yourself and say, 'Whoa! I did a super good deed! Now I know how all those idiotic showoffs feel!' That was all it amounted to.
There was no need to keep on worrying over a coincidence of that scale, and since I was fated to become a loner anyway after enrolling, that was all the more reason not to worry about me.
Plus I didn't really care. I mean, I'd like it if she were happy I guess but I was doomed to be the way I was. I was doomed to drown in ignorance no riajuu could possibly understand. What knowledge were they born with which was denied me. I was a person. I was a man. But I didn't know what either of those things really were. Every riajuu knew what a person was. Just instinctually. From my perspective they had every edge over me.
So I would end the matter here. Hitting reset and going back to our ordinary lives was for the best. Life has no reset button, but you can reset your relationships. Source: me. Not a single classmate from middle school ever contacted me… wait, that was a deletion, not a reset. Heh. Fucken delete me.
Sixth period finally ended after boring me to tears.
Since I was a steady and diligent student, I didn't talk to anyone during class and spent the time in silence. Incidentally, sixth period was an oral communication class, so I was forced to converse in English to the person sitting next to me. But the moment it began, the girl next to me started playing with her phone. I thought I would get told off by the teacher who was looking around, but she didn't notice me thanks to my unique skill of erasing my presence, so I could relax. I expected no less of myself.
…except I couldn't actually turn that skill off. For real.
Even after homeroom, my skill continued to function impeccably and no one noticed my existence as I packed my schoolbag unobtrusively. What was I, a spy?
Crap. Those CIA scouts might come for me. If I got it wrong and the AIC scouts came instead, I wouldn't be complaining ‐ I'd make a Tenchi Muyo OVA.
As those thoughts went through my mind, a silly commotion was unfolding behind me, as if saying, 'This is youth!'
The sports club members were pumping themselves up by talking shit about their older members and advisor for a while as they idly prepared for their club activities. The culture club members were exchanging pleasant smiles and chatting about what they brought for snacks today.
Then there were those who didn't belong to any club at all, talking languidly to each other about how they planned to spend their free time.
Among them was a person messing about in a conspicuously loud voice. "The soccer club's advisor is taking a day off. I'm totes jealous!"
Casually looking up, I noticed Hayama and his friends, a mixed‐gender group which consisted of seven people. They were bunched up together and sitting in a circle, yabbering away.
Among them, Ooka from the baseball club (the virgin fence‐sitter) revealed his dissatisfaction. To that, Yamato from the rugby club (the airy‐fairy one) nodded in agreement. Tobe (the easily excited one) promptly broke out into a ruckus about it.
"Oh crap, but you guys and your club activities crack me up! Damn. What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?"
"I'll leave it to you." As Miura played with her cell phone in her right hand with palpable disinterest, she yanked on Tobe's drill‐shaped hair with her left hand. Ebina‐san and Yuigahama trailed behind her. The queen was ruling with her iron fist as usual.
Tobe was suddenly fired up upon being manhandled by Miura. "Oh! So is Baskin‐ Robbins or something no good? Or is that not no good?"
In that moment, Miura closed her cell phone with a snap. "Hm? Nah."
…she wasn't leaving it to him at all! Without thinking, I did a mental tsukkomi to their conversation. Every day, I was honing my loner tsukkomi skills.
Inadvertently, my eyes went over to Miura and the others. When I did that, my eyes met with Yuigahama, who was among them. She said nothing. I said nothing.
Even though we were aware of each other's presences, no words were spoken, and we just furtively glanced at each other.
I was good at not saying anything. I was the best at it even. I didn't feel any pressure to talk to her or something. She was a nice girl but she didn't need to be concerned about me. I was an utter mess.
It was pretty much like when you used the station in your hometown and you come across your middle school classmate at the other entrance of the platform.
You realise, 'Oh crap, it's Oofuna‐kun…' and the other guy is like, 'Uh… who are you again…? Hi‐Hiki… meh, screw it.' He just gave up trying to remember my name, the bastard.
Anyway, that was how it was. I‐it wasn't as if the other person didn't know who I was ‐ I just had a good memory. My brain is superb. I was incredibly shitty with other people's names but sometimes I got lucky. People bored me. They just weren't that interesting compared to the things I could use to occupy my time.
Not that my memory was bad. It was quite good. My memory was so good that I remembered the name of a girl I'd never spoken to once. When I called out to her, her face contorted with fear. 'How does this guy know my name…? I'm scared…' But that's enough of that story. I hated that story.
Anyway, in that moment the relationship between Yuigahama and I was like that of master fencers gauging their distance from each other. The atmosphere was that of a temporary stalemate.
The one who broke that peculiar atmosphere was Miura.
"I reckon we should go bowling after all."
Without any logical reason for it, Ebina nodded at the proposal Miura came up with. "I get it! The pins definitely look like pe‐"
"Ebina, shut the hell up. Wipe your nosebleed," a disgusted Miura said as she handed Ebina a tissue. "Cover it up or something."
Giving out a tissue was a surprisingly kind gesture on Miura's part, but no matter how you looked at it, it was one of those tissues people gave out on the street advertising a dating service, so it was kind of a delicate situation.
"Bowling is totally awesome! Man, I can't even think of anything besides bowling!"
"I know, right?" Miura did a victory twirl upon seeing Tobe agree with her.
But Hayama stroked his chin somewhat thoughtfully, as if he did not think the same way. "But we did that last week too… why don't we play darts or something since it's been ages?" Miura changed her tune in a flash.
"If you say so, Hayato," she sang. How two‐ faced could you get?
"Shall we go, then?" Hayama said as he stood up from his chair and began to walk. "Tell me if any of you haven't played before so I can teach you." Miura, Tobe and Ebina‐san followed him. But, upon noticing someone else trailing behind, Miura turned around and called out to her.
"Yui, what are you doing? Come on!"
"…oh, uh… um, okay! Coming now!" Yuigahama, who had been a passive participant in the conversation up until then, clutched her schoolbag as if startled into movement. She stood up and broke out into a half run, but when she passed me by the side, her steps slowed.
Was she caught in indecision, perhaps? About whether she should go with Miura and the others as she was doing now or whether she should go to the Service Club instead? I wouldn't be surprised ‐ she was a nice girl. Even though she had no reason to care about me.
And yet, even though I told her not to worry, here she was caught in the precipice between her two worlds and agonising over it.
This wasn't how things were supposed to be. Loners never caused other people trouble.
As I did my very best to avoid looking in Yuigahama's direction, I furtively slipped out of the classroom.
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-WG