Sorry it taking a while to post new chapters. I'm working on a chapter in my investment story. It is about a character that unalive themselves and since it is based on true events. It is hard to write, but this chapter is important as it explains why Hikigaya was desperate to help Yumi, in the first chapter of Yumi's part in the story, 'Four Pillars'.
As the sun bathed the university courtyard in its gentle warmth, Yukinoshita Yukino sought out a secluded spot beneath an ancient, sprawling oak tree. The soft rustle of its leaves provided a serene soundtrack, a striking departure from the usual clamor of the bustling campus. Yukino, always grateful for a moment of tranquility amidst her demanding academic pursuits, retrieved her neatly packed lunch from a sleek, dark bento box.
She meticulously arranged her seating area, placing the bento box on a small cloth spread out on the grass. Today's meal had been prepared with meticulous care: rice adorned with a sprinkling of black sesame seeds, a serving of grilled salmon still tinged with a hint of pink at its center, and an assortment of pickled vegetables that added both vibrancy and flavor. In a separate compartment rested a few slices of tamagoyaki, their sweet, layered richness providing a delightful complement to the meal.
0000
As I took my first bite, my expression softened. The familiar, comforting flavors of home in this foreign landscape offered a welcome respite. I chewed thoughtfully, my gaze wandering over the pages of a book propped open beside my bento box. Multitasking was second nature to me, and today was no exception; I simultaneously savored my lunch and delved into a complex text on British literature, seamlessly dividing my focus between the two tasks.
The courtyard buzzed with activity, students engaged in animated conversations or hurrying past with books in hand, likely late for their lectures. Yet, I remained ensconced in my quiet bubble, my presence almost invisible to those not actively seeking me out.
My solitude was intentional, cultivated to foster concentration and reflection. Yet, my sharp eyes occasionally lifted from my book to observe the behaviors of my peers. It was during one of these moments that I noticed Tanaka Haruki approaching my corner of the courtyard. My eyes narrowed slightly, not out of disdain, but from curiosity tinged with cautious intrigue.
Tanaka-san appeared hesitant at first, his steps slowing as he drew nearer. In his hand, he held a thick book about artificial intelligence, perhaps intending it as a conversation starter. Despite his nerdy appearance and somewhat awkward demeanor, his approach was marked by a respectful awareness of my need for personal space.
The tranquility of the moment was about to be disrupted, but I was as prepared to engage in intellectual discourse as I was to savor my solitude. With each bite of my meal punctuated by keen observation, I readied myself for whatever interaction the day would bring with Tanaka's approach.
0000
The day Miyazaki Aoi introduced me to Tanaka-san was enveloped in the usual cool, overcast weather of the UK. They were in the bustling campus library, a place I frequented for its extensive collection and the quiet solace it provided. Miyazaki-san, ever the social butterfly and bridge between different people, had been chatting animatedly with Tanaka-san about one of their recent classes when she spotted me browsing through the aisles.
"Yukinoshita!" Miyazaki called out, waving me over with a bright smile. "Come meet Tanaka-san. He's in my computer science class and he's really into AI and coding!"
I, who generally maintained a reserved demeanor, approached with a polite if slightly restrained, smile. I was still getting used to Miyazaki's enthusiastic introductions, knowing my friend thrived on connecting people. As I reached them, my sharp and assessing eyes briefly met Tanaka's before focusing on Miyazaki.
"Nice to meet you," I said, my voice calm and even, as I turned my attention to Tanaka-san. His response was a nod, slightly nervous but genuine, a clear sign of his respect for my space and, possibly, my intellect.
"Tanaka-san has some fascinating insights on AI's impact on literature," Miyazaki-san continued, unaware of the cautious dance of social interaction unfolding beside her. "You should hear some of his theories!"
I made a mental note of Tanaka Haruki then — another brilliant mind, potentially a worthy conversational partner, but still a stranger. I didn't warm up to people quickly or easily, a fact well known to myself and those close to me. I appreciated intellect and depth, qualities I hoped to discover in Tanaka-san in time.
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The second meeting, however, unfolded under less controlled circumstances, triggering a memory of a fond moment in my past. It occurred unexpectedly a few days later. Exiting a lecture hall, I encountered Tanaka-san once again. He stood a short distance away, seemingly waiting for someone. Seeing him there, seemingly in my path yet again, invoked a sense of déjà vu reminiscent of my unsettling first encounters with Hikigaya Hachiman back in Japan.
Without much thought and carried by a wave of past emotions, my approach to the situation took on a defensive edge. As I passed by Tanaka-san, I paused, turning to him with a look that mixed suspicion with guarded curiosity.
"Are you following me?" I asked, my tone more accusatory than I intended. It echoed a past moment, replaying with a different cast but a similar script.
Following my sharp accusation in the hallway, Tanaka's initial shock gave way to a mix of irritation and defensiveness. He wasn't accustomed to being confronted so directly, especially not with an accusation of stalking. With his mind racing and emotions flaring, his response came with a hint of biting sarcasm, reflecting his frustration.
"I'm not following you," he asserted firmly, adjusting his glasses to emphasize his point. "You might be overestimating your importance a little."
My eyebrows raised at this retort, a flicker of surprise crossing my typically impassive face. It wasn't often that someone responded to me with such directness. I regarded Tanaka-san with new interest, my lips curving into a slight, challenging smile.
"Is that so? Or perhaps you're just here because you think I'm cute? Is that it?" I countered smoothly, my tone laced with a cool, probing edge. My words mirrored a game I had played before with Hikigaya, a dance of words and wits that I somewhat relished.
Tanaka's face flushed slightly at the insinuation, more out of embarrassment than any real affront. He was quick to deny it, his voice steady despite the color in his cheeks. "No, that's not it at all. I was just waiting for a friend. You're not the center of everyone's universe, Yukinoshita Yukino."
The air between us crackled with a mixture of tension and an emerging mutual respect, born from our quick and sharp exchanges. My smile grew a fraction, acknowledging his rebuttal. "Well, it's good to know where we stand, then," I replied, my tone softer but still edged with my typical aloofness.
Tanaka nodded, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment in holding his ground against my formidable presence. "Yes, it's better to be clear."
As we parted ways, the initial misunderstanding lingered in the air, mingled with a new layer of curiosity about each other's character.
0000
As I continued my meal beneath the sprawling oak in the university's courtyard, my mind wandered back to the recent exchange with Tanaka. I couldn't help but find a certain amusement in the similarity of our meeting to the one I had years ago with Hikigaya Hachiman. Hachiman, who had since become an integral part of my life as my boyfriend, had also begun our acquaintance under a cloud of misunderstandings and sharp exchanges.
A small smile played on my lips as I pondered the irony of it all. Life seemed to have a peculiar way of circling back to similar patterns, presenting me with situations that echoed the past, yet with new players and slightly altered settings. The dynamic I shared with Hachiman was unique, defined by our mutual respect and understanding, which had been hard-won through numerous challenges and confrontations.
Now, as I considered my interactions with Tanaka, I found myself wondering whether a similar path might unfold from what started as a contentious misunderstanding. It was intriguing, the idea that I could engage in another intellectual tug-of-war, akin to those I had with Hachiman, but with someone whose passions and perspectives differed.
I took another bite of my meal, my thoughts deepening. My relationship with Hachiman had taught me much about myself and how I related to others. Perhaps, I mused, Tanaka presented an opportunity not just for conflict but for growth. Maybe, in his way, he could challenge me, pushing me to reconsider my viewpoints and further refine my arguments.
We had found a tentative peace as we shared our lunch under the sprawling branches of the oak tree. The earlier tension had eased into an awkward but civil silence, occasionally broken by the rustle of pages as Tanaka flipped through one of his tech magazines. I, with my lunch half-finished, watched him from the corner of my eye, analyzing his quiet fascination with the articles.
Our shared silence was suddenly broken by the energetic voice of Miyazaki-san. "Yukinoshita! Tanaka!" she called out as she approached us, her steps quick with excitement. A bright smile illuminated her face as she saw us sitting together. "I didn't expect to find you two here. Mind if I join?"
Without waiting for an answer, Miyazaki-san plopped down next to me, her cheerful demeanor a stark contrast to the more reserved interaction between Tanaka-san and myself. "What a surprise to see you two, and here of all places!" she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.
Tanaka looked up, a smile breaking through his earlier reservation. "We just bumped into each other. Decided it was a good time for lunch," he explained, his voice more animated now that Miyazaki-san had joined us.
Miyazaki-san nodded enthusiastically, already pulling out her own lunchbox. "Well, this is perfect! I've been wanting to catch up with both of you," she said, spreading out her assortment of homemade sandwiches. "Here, try some of these. I experimented with a new recipe."
The addition of Miyazaki-san to the group brought a new energy to the meal. She was a natural at lightening the atmosphere, quickly diving into stories about her latest adventures in class and around campus. Her liveliness drew us into the conversation, bridging the gap left by our cautious interactions.
As we talked, I found myself occasionally contributing to the conversation, prompted by Miyazaki's questions and Tanaka's tech-related anecdotes. The discussion soon veered into a debate about the ethical implications of artificial intelligence, sparked by an article Tanaka pointed out.
Miyazaki-san listened intently, clearly fascinated, while I found myself engaged by Tanaka's insights. The earlier awkwardness dissipated, replaced by a collaborative and stimulating exchange of ideas. My responses were sharp and thoughtful, and Tanaka matched me with equally compelling arguments.
By the time we began packing up our lunch remnants, the dynamic had shifted significantly. I felt a subtle shift in my perception of Tanaka, appreciating his intellect and the ease with which he discussed complex topics. As we stood to leave, I bid them goodbye.
Tanaka's response was a nod of appreciation, his earlier defensiveness replaced by a respectful acknowledgment.
Miyazaki-san, beaming at the smooth interaction, clapped her hands together. "I'm glad you two are getting along. It makes lunch so much more fun!"
With a final laugh and a promise to meet again soon, the trio parted ways, each with a newfound appreciation for the others. I walked away with a thoughtful expression, mulling over the possibilities that new friendships and fresh perspectives could bring.
0000
I couldn't help but notice the easy camaraderie between Tanaka-san and Miyazaki-san as they walked together. Their laughter drifted through the air, carrying with it a sense of warmth and genuine connection that was hard to ignore.
Watching them from a distance, my keen observation skills picked up on subtle cues—a lingering touch, a shared glance—that hinted at a bond deeper than mere friendship. It was a budding closeness, still in its early stages, but undeniable in its presence.
A small, thoughtful smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I observed them, my analytical mind already beginning to piece together the possibilities. I sensed a shift in their dynamic, a subtle undercurrent that hinted at the potential for something more.
They seemed at ease in each other's company, their interactions flowing effortlessly as they exchanged lighthearted banter and shared anecdotes. There was a warmth to their connection, a genuine affection that spoke volumes about the depth of their bond.
As I watched them stroll away, their figures gradually disappearing into the bustling crowd of students, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was witnessing the start of a new chapter in their lives. The future was uncertain but filled with promise and possibility.
With a quiet sense of anticipation, I made a mental note to keep an eye on their relationship, curious to see how it would evolve in the days and weeks to come.
0000
As the day transitioned into the evening and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft glow over the university campus, I found myself back in the quiet confines of my dorm room. The dim light filtering in through the window painted gentle patterns on the walls, creating a soothing ambiance that matched the tranquility of the hour.
With my textbooks spread out before me, I delved into my studies with my usual focus and determination. The material was challenging, as always, but I welcomed the mental stimulation it provided. Each page turned was a step closer to mastery, a small victory in my ongoing pursuit of knowledge.
As the hours passed and the night grew deeper, I finally closed my textbooks with a sense of satisfaction. The weight of exhaustion settled over me, a tangible reminder of the mental exertion I had endured throughout the day.
With practiced efficiency, I went through my nightly routine, preparing myself for sleep. I changed into comfortable pajamas, meticulously brushed my teeth, and washed my face with cool water, relishing the refreshing sensation.
As I settled into bed, my mind still buzzing with the events of the day, I couldn't shake the thought of Hikigaya Hachiman, my boyfriend. Though miles apart, he was never far from my thoughts, his presence a constant comfort even in his absence.
With a soft sigh, I whispered into the quiet of my room, my voice barely above a whisper, "Good night, Hikigaya." It was a simple gesture, a silent wish sent out into the universe, hoping that somehow, across the distance that separated us, my words would reach him.
Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to drift into the realm of sleep, my thoughts filled with visions of Hikigaya and the promise of our future together. In the darkness of my room, surrounded by the gentle hum of the night, I found solace in the knowledge that no matter where we were, we would always be connected by the bond we shared.
And as sleep finally claimed me, I carried with me the warmth of Hikigaya's presence, a beacon of light in the darkness, guiding me through the night and into the dawn of a new day.