My Other Worldly Harem Curb Stomp is Wrong as Expected (SNAFU)
Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatteiru is created by Wataru Watari and published by Shogakukan.
Familiar of Zero is made by Noboru Yamaguchi and is published by Media Factory (though I only know the J.C. Staff production).
Neither is owned by me nor do I have any power over them.
What does it take to know someone? Is it the hours you spend with them? If you think you know someone and still wish to spend time with them does that then mean you are friends? People often talk about friendship and being close to others, but in reality, they aren't. It is the height of hubris to believe that just because you talked a bit while playing at the arcade about the anime on the other person's shirt that suddenly you are friends. Even after you talk to them for a solid 24 minutes about it and even smile once. At some point they will excuse themselves to use the restroom and you will never see them again.
What then is knowing someone? Is it the ability to predict what they will do in a given situation, or perhaps to extrapolate their thoughts into every potential outcome? Knowing someone is not something Hachiman Hikigaya could do.
Or was it?
My time in the service club had led to the unfortunate habit of having to think about people more than I ever had before. People came to interject problems onto the three of us. And we in turn burdened ourselves with solving those problems until our actions inevitably wrecked the semblance of fake comradery we had, revealing something deeper and more complicated than any of us individually wanted. Time once spent reading or with Vita-chan turned into endless computerlike loops dissecting the relationships and thoughts of the people around me.
As a certain Haruno pointed out, I was a monster of logic. But that also led me to learning something of vital importance. Being a monster of logic was the opposite of the monster of emotion, something I could call a certain blonde.
I understood people. I knew how to hurt them, how to swing them, and how they worked. I could make insane Goldberg plans to even get someone elected as president. But I did not understand them. I fundamentally could not grasp how someone felt, why their emotions changed them, how things that were not involved in self-loathing motivated people.
Komachi reminded me. Sweet Komachi, perfect cute Komachi, with her adorable smile and her sweeter than MAX Coffee personality. My sweet sister, a loner with social skills and the cuteness of the top idols. She reminded me-right, back on track- how we knew each other. How after 15 years we could understand each other and told me how it was possible to do so. Even someone who was trash like me. I can with confidence say that I know my sister.
But after 6 months. After hardship and test. Blood and sweet. Confrontation on ideals and time spent.
With all that, I did not know them.
French Literature is Reenacted by Louise, Kirche, and Tabitha
A loud shutter caused an earthquake to rumble through the building, stirring me from the little in the way of sleep I had gathered. Given the position of the moon it hadn't been an hour since I had used the age-old Pokémon tactic of [RUN] to escape the vicious clutches of strange women. Much like my father before me, I will protest any who tries to grasp my wallet. At least I did not have to learn so personally like dear old dad. This Hikigaya listens when their father speaks.
I was laying in a disheveled pile of blankets that had been tossed around and scattered like a piece of modern art. The cool night breeze flooded over the thin blanket that remained over me, as the others had been tossed around… and not by the quake.
Louise and Kirche had spit a ruckus over swords and ownership, but I wanted no part in it. I stopped listening pretty early, in fact. Even after laying down the girls still harassed me. I believe it was Kirche who had the idea to duel, but who could really say.
I am sure that the terrible sounds of crashing and destruction coming from the window had nothing to do with this so-called duel, though the reality of these thoughts were not quite known. At the end of the day, I just wanted sleep, so sleep is what I did.
I should have gone with them.
"The Staff of Destruction has been stolen by that Fouquet the Crumbling dirt," a dwarf looking man spoke, obviously not in Louise's room. It appeared that my wayward "master" and her friends watched a burglary the night before, with none of it being their doing. How that lead me to being in a room consisting of many of the top ranked professors along with the witnesses to the crime is anyone's guess. When I woke that morning to do my chores, Louise was sleeping, marks of tears still visible. Her clothes that she failed to change out of were covered in dirt and grime, and her hair was an absolute mess.
Then a heathy looking female professor came and woke her up as gentle as I had the day previous. No attack occurred as a result, so something was truly amiss, then we were escorted here.
"Who was the noble on duty," the same professor turned and sent his chilling gaze down the line of teachers, the scummy part of my mind begging for it to be him. Justice!
"Mrs. Chevreuse! You were supposed to be on duty!" one of the teachers pointed to the same professor who had grabbed us this morning. Her soft purple robe fluttering in the nonexistent wind.
What followed was a sad scene. The kind professor being berated by a bunch of angry people passing off the blame, and sure it was her fault, but this Fouquet person had the royal capital up in arms, what was a schoolteacher supposed to do to him? Perhaps this was all an act though, woman crying does usually reduce the punishment they would suffer. How many times did Yuigahama use that against Yukinoshita or me, or Iroha against me, or Komachi against me, wait, am I just fatally weak against this attack?
Suddenly a wise old wizard entered the room. The man, Dumbledore, walked straight into the middle of the one-sided beat down with wise old words, "This might not be the best time to be hard on the ladies, right?" Wait? Why not? What?
The dwarf looking man, who headed the charge of the assault against Mrs. Chevreuse looked up at the older wizard, "But she failed her duty, sleeping silently while supposed to be on watch?"
"Hmm," the old man stroked his obnoxiously long beard, white as fresh snow, and staired to the upset woman. He then quickly turned to the dwarf man, "What's your name again?" What? My brain at this point might just be hallucinating after all.
"Gimli, I have worked here for thirty years, Old Osman." Wow, dwarf has a dwarf name. Also, was his name Old Osman, no one batted an eye even the man himself. Perhaps I really am still dreaming. Even as they argue, I wonder how any of this is really happening, and wait, the old man just grabbed the female crying teacher's butt. What? No one is saying anything.
"And who were the ones who witnessed the event?" The old man eventually stopped the Ecchi comedy routine.
"It was these three." The true sensei who had saved my life two days ago pointed to us. Since I was window dressing and not associated with the crimes at all I took a step away from the group. As I did the old man's eyes followed my movement with a twinkle of mirth, did he also think I was a cute girl?
"Oh, it's you guys…" he peered with a large smile, again directed at me. Please stop. "Please tell us about the events in depth."
Louise took this opportunity to step forward, "A great clay golem, something I think would require a triangle level mage to conjure, appeared and broke the wall. A hooded mage on its shoulder entered the hole and took something. Given what was missing, that item had to be the Staff oof Destruction. Then the mage rode off the golem and went over the walls. When we reached the other side in pursuit, we saw a pile of dirt, and no sign of the culprit" she said clinically. When did she practice such a routine.
"Excellent description, Mrs. Vallière." After a brief pause, he looked around in shock, "Where is Miss Longueville?" Why are so many characters being thrown at me, with such foreign names too. He and the professor who saved me, Mr. Colbert, kicked back into a comedy routine that I failed to follow, like I was missing scenes that a normal person would have. Suddenly a beautiful young woman strode in the door. A green hair bespectacled girl with a black and green cloak. Striding into the room the old man looked her up and down, like the pervert description I had for him would account to. I was no better, she was quite beautiful, although something about her reminded me of Ebina. I hoped it was only because of the glasses.
"Miss Longueville! Where have you been? Something terrible has occurred?" Mr. Colbert's voice came out as a shrill shake. She ignored him and walked straight up to the old man, leaning over to let gravity assist in getting Old Osman's attention.
"I am extremely sorry to be late." She has even perfected the Yuigahama, perhaps I will rename it the Longueville. Despite working with less, she got more out of the skill. "I was performing investigations on the event and learned the whereabouts of Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt."
She was then levied with an assortment of praise by all her popular friends. Kirche and Louise looked at her as if she was a top Idol.
"Perfect," Old Osman clapped his hands. "Now we just need some volunteers to find Fouquet. Those willing, please raise their wands."
Volunteer. A word that I got very attached to in recent times. Volunteering when you work for a company means something for their profits that will not be reflected on your paycheck. They like to dress it up as if you are doing something helpful, but really, it's only the shady corporation that is benefiting from it. Despite this, I am no stranger to volunteering. The largest recent problem in my life stemmed from it in fact. Helping with the Christmas event was nothing but volunteering for everyone involved, but the only reason I did it was for selfish reasons. I didn't care about elementary schoolers, even if Rumi Rumi was there. I didn't care about the community center's event. I didn't even care about the pickle that Iroha put herself into.
Why then did I help, for what reason did I do that.
The answer was simple. She didn't need to suffer for my mistakes. Nothing but selfishness could bring me to volunteer.
For once, I am in the majority. Ask a man to volunteer and he will be busy that day. The only way someone will volunteer when no profit could be gained would be personal connections, and I doubted anyone cared that much about this Staff of Destruction that had been sealed behind a vault for decades. If one person raised their hand to do it, everyone else would then have the burden of peer pressure and the fear of missing out to propel a decision, but it still required one person willing.
When no wand went into the air, I was not surprised.
"No one wants to be the hero who caught Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt?" the old man tried to use [bribe] as he did not use [money] as the currency it was not very effective among the older crowd. Better luck next time pervy sensei.
Then to my horror a pinkette's hand shot up.
"Miss Vallière, you mustn't." The person who I thought should have been chosen since her sleeping instead of watching caused this issue, shouted, "Leave this to the teachers,"
"But none of you are willing to help," her face was stern. Her gentle face held the hardest eyes he had seen on the beautiful girl. The slight bite to her lip made her very picturesque, I could see this be a background on Zaimokuza's computer.
Suddenly a second wand joined her. Kirche's stood tall, yet wavered in the air, "Can't go losing to a Vallière now."
"No, you are a student too," Mr. Colbert added next trying to wave her down. It appeared like he wanted to volunteer after Louise did but was cut off by Old Osman. It felt like the old man was scheming something and I didn't like it.
Tabitha's wand soon followed. "This doesn't concern you." Kirche said, her voice full of concern.
"I'm worried," was the girl's quick answer still performed in her soft slow voice.
Louise's eyes shone bright at her response, "Thank you Tabitha."
Pervy Sensei chose that moment to laugh. "Well then, its up to you three now."
All protest after that fell onto deaf ears. Now why did I think that the three of them would have me be there as well. This was not in the initial househusband duties I was ascribed!
Sorry it's been so long. I have a new job, a new house, life is moving fast. I hope people like this thing I threw together, this was started way back in January. I know its not high quality, but I hope its good enough that people enjoy it.