It's my fanfic and I get to choose how to fuck up writing each character :D


Youth is a lie. It is a necessary evil, but an evil nonetheless.

As I get up from my seat and walk towards the teacher's office, the school day complete, I take a second to observe. Every time I leave my desk I wait until a decent bit after everyone else is gone so that they are observable by the time I am forced to move myself.

The hallways are slightly crowded with people, friend groups clearly defined. All the classic high school cliques are visible, from the sports kids outside and the popular girls bunched by the steps to the otakus crowding over a phone and the outcasts, me included, milling about.

There's a classic scenario of bullying in the library while I pass by. Two boys are roughing down a third, grabbing his stuff and becoming a general nuisance, but nobody interferes. After all, conflicts are meant to be sorted out by the people engaged in them, not outside observers. Of course, such principles don't work in the real world, but since all three of them are young, their behavior is excusable.

Those who engage in the frivolities granted by their young age delude themselves into thinking the circumstances are under their control, while simultaneously running through a rehearsed scene that could never play out differently. Each person an actor, the high school their stage. All those who delight in youth act out their will, engaging with others in a way only children would be able to.

There's a few boys, members of an athletic team-I can't remember which one, running through the halls, causing students to move to each side in an attempt to get out of the way. One girl doesn't notice, and gets knocked slightly by the third boy running through. I too, step to the side, watching with disdain as they enjoy their lighthearted game, smiles on their faces. A few people around me seemingly share my opinion before returning to their previous activities as if nothing happened.

Using the word "youth" as an excuse, they twist the interpretation of the situation into one involving leniency up until it is impossible to not look the other way. Mistakes are commonplace, expected, and the punishments for such are minor. There are those on extreme ends of the spectrum, who will twist the word as a slur, a way to demean those who are not yet experienced despite not being in a position to prove their superiority. There are also those who use it as a "get out of jail free card," invoking the term to avoid consequences.

Lies, secrets, failures, and sins are all expected to occur, just spice to be added to the flavor of youth that the majority gets to enjoy. But if failure is truly acceptable in one's youth, then why are some failures better than others? Why is it so much more of a sin to be too quiet than be too loud? Why are those who have no friends treated so differently compared to those who are the delight of their classmates?

A girl behind me calls out "hey, wait up!" and I instinctively turn to face them, as do many others. Of course, she races past me, and joins her group of four or five others a bit further up the hall. I stop, having reached my destination, and turn to look around the building for anything interesting before opening the door to the teacher's room.

Of course, there is a double standard. There are always those who will be treated differently from others on the basis of any number of traits, status in the social hierarchy being one of many facets of society that we are forced to navigate in an attempt to understand the world around us. But, of course, everybody hates a hypocrite, and nobody will admit to it. They will pretend as if they respect a decision, and badmouth it the second their target steps out of hearing range.

Hiratsuka-sensei reads out my essay, loud enough for the words to ring in my ears, but soft enough to where it will barely be heard by anyone else. An impressive ability to modulate her voice, I note, eyes not too focused on any one thing. I know what I wrote. It's been my thought for a while, a simple fact that I knew could not change. My thoughts and opinions on the matter were final.

Thus, the only conclusion is as follows: those who delight in youth are nothing more than the liars they hate, the biggest sinners of them all. Those who delight in youth, I implore you to do what is best for the entirety of society and drop dead.

"You're the one who needs to drop dead," Hiratsuka-sensei states, and while the rebuke was not surprising, the word choice was. Telling a student to drop dead, not through writing but actually face-to-face? Let it never be said that Hiratsuka-sensei was lacking in impulsivity, nor bravery. "Hikigaya, what was the topic I assigned you in class?"

"Look back on your highschool days," I replied. I had prepared for this conversation in advance. Even if the essay was well-written, I knew my own philosophy well enough that it would be considered problematic, and when the call to the teacher's room came, it wasn't too much of a surprise. I had briefly refreshed myself on not only the topic but my essay throughout the day, knowing that this would be a difficult conversation to get through without too many ugly truths rearing their heads.

"And how did that lead you to write this nonsense sophistry?" she asked.

"When you asked us to look back on our highschool days, it meant we had to think about our experiences and draw conclusions from those," I responded. "Though it is lacking in anecdotes, these are my conclusions. This is what I am going to take away from my highschool days."

"Honestly…" she bemoans, and I can't tell if her having a hard time to respond is indicative of success or failure on my part. Once again, she locks eyes with me and narrows her own. "Your rotten philosophy is reflected in your rotten eyes. They look like those of a dead fish."

The eyes? Really? Out of everything you could've mentioned, you choose a physical characteristic? Not only did that feel extremely strange, to have one of your facial features commented on by a teacher, but it was completely unrelated to anything we had spent the last five minutes discussing.

"A dead fish?" I confirm. People have insulted my eyes before, so I prepared several comebacks in case it ever happened again. This was before I shut off most communication routes with my peers, so they never saw any conversation, but they still existed within my mind. "Do I look that rich in omega-3s? Almost makes me sound smart."

"Be serious," she glares, and I'm taken aback by how annoyed she sounds. I thought that we were exchanging banter, so I was confused about how my sarcastic defense was any stranger than her irrelevant comments. "What even made you think this was acceptable to write about?"

Ah, the dreaded impropriety question, the one thing I had the most trouble thinking about how to defend. I could tell her these were my honest thoughts, and have her opinion of me lower even more, and as much as I generally don't care what people think of me, those principles apply less when it's a teacher and not one of my classmates. I could also try to come up with some excuse about not thinking clearly, but that would be a plain lie and generally those don't turn out well. The only thing I could think of was to try some sort of flattery or attempt to deflect it on her teaching style.

"Don't you always encourage us to be honest, both with ourselves and with the world?" I innocently question. "This is me being honest. As for the second part, I thought that given how long you've been teaching, you must have seen some students-"

I was unable to finish my thoughts as Hiratsuka-sensei, faster than I could react, got out of her seat and punched right beside my head using such power that I could feel the aftereffects of being near it. A menacing aura surrounded her, making me freeze.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to talk about a woman's age?" she questioned, and I paused. Did I mention anything about her age? I didn't think so, so what was she referring to?

"I'll rewrite it," I managed to squeak out. As much as I didn't want to do more work, it wasn't worth getting in a fight over a teacher for. If they wanted me to write in a way that catered to the audience, I could do that, as much trouble as it would be.

"Nope," Hiratsuka-sensei smiled, much more pleasant than before. Before I could even begin to question the mood shift, she started walking towards the door. "Come with me." Unable to protest, I followed.

Eventually, she opened a door, and we both walked in. I wasn't entirely sure what I expected to find, but it probably wasn't this.

Lone girl. She's sitting at a chair in the center of the room, reading something. All the desks and other chairs are piled at the back, likely making this a storage room. No other people here, just her. Who is she? Upon first glance, she appears to be Yukinoshita Yukino, the top student in the school. Legendarily, also incredibly antisocial. Probably someone I don't want to interact with on the best of days.

"Hiratsuka-sensei," she greets amicably enough. "I was under the impression that I requested you knock before entering."

"Yeah, but you never answer, so this is what I have to do to get your attention," sensei nonchalantly responds.

"Fair enough," Yukinoshita(?) sighs. "And? Who's the space case?"

Okay, that's some unusual hostility. Normally people just ignore me as if I don't exist, which, to be fair, is kind of what I prefer. Let's see, what do I remember about her?

Class J, the one that's 90% girls, I recall. They tend to score better than average. Also there's quite a few transfer students. Are those three in any way related? Probably not, but worth thinking about.

"Just someone looking to join your club," sensei responds, speaking before I can introduce myself properly. Strange that she saw fit to do so on behalf of me, I thought she was all for that 'let people socialize' thing that apparently teachers want us to do these days. Also, join her club? Where did that come from?

"My name is Hikigaya Hachiman," I start, not too sure where to go from here. "Also, why am I all of a sudden interested in joining a club?" Oops, too heavy on the indignance. There goes my neutral tone, now Yukinoshita knows I'm annoyed to be here, which means this probably won't go well, and sensei will see it as me disrespecting her authority, which is bound to cause me pain in some way in the future.

"You aren't, but you're going to anyway," sensei clarified, looking over her shoulder in what appeared to be disappointment and/or disdain. Sue me, facial expressions are hard when they're hidden by hair and a shoulder, but at least I can be decently certain given my parents keep making that face at me. "I'm ordering you to join as punishment for making me read that idiotic essay."

"This feels like an abuse of authority," I grumble, looking away. Seriously, is there any way to get out of this? As of right now, it seems the only options are for Yukinoshita to veto my presence, which is probably likely but shouldn't be relied upon, or to confuse sensei enough to where she lets me go.

"This is for your benefit, not mine," sensei responds. "As you can see, Yukinoshita, this man is slightly strange, but he should be a good fit. I hope you can work together and turn into a functioning member of society instead of a sociopath wannabe," she says before walking out, leaving me alone with the strange girl in the center of the room.

I stare at the door as it closes before turning back to face her, noting that there are zero other chairs being used or even in places where they can be used. It's just her, the chair she's on, her desk, and her book. Can't see the title, but I recognize the cover - I Am a Cat by Natsume Soseki. Strange choice for someone our age, but fair enough I suppose. I'd read it when I was younger, and it was quite amusing to read about life from the perspective of a cat up until it drowned. Is it strange I found that amusing? Not in the "haha omg that so funny" way that appears to be the only speech several of my classmates are able to make but instead the "oh that was morbid" way that leaves you feeling ironically happy with the way things ended up. Do you get me? I don't. I don't understand why I felt that way, nor do I want to. Let that be a lesson to you, whoever is reading this. You don't know yourself, at least not in the way you think you do. Not helpful? Fair enough, this is pointless sophistry, as Hiratsuka-sensei would put it. Might as well not stand around like an idiot.

"What club is this?" I asked. Simple, easy statement, expected from anyone when thrust into this new situation. Should be a fine neutral conversation starter that will allow me to learn just how to ditch this whole issue.

"Clearly your mind is as rotten as your eyes if you can't even figure that out," Yukinoshita sighed, closing her book. Now that's strange, there is literally zero reason I would be able to understand what club this is. No sign, no club members, no publications, no advertising, no words from sensei. What does she expect me to go off of? The book in her hands? "Why don't you try to guess? I'll even so graciously give you a hint. What I am doing right now is the club's main activity."

Okay, fine. I can work with that. What is she doing? Well, she was reading a book the whole time, but stopped as soon as we came in. Something to do with reading? But sensei asked her to reform me into someone fit for society, so maybe some kind of self-improvement club? But that seems like it would be mildly popular, and there's no one else here, meaning that it can't possibly be any of the classic club types, all of which would have more people. This is supplemented by the fact that it looks like she's the only member and is used to it, if she didn't even try to set out desks or chairs for everyone else. She clearly wasn't expecting anyone to come in. Something solitary to do with self-improvement.

"Meditation and relaxation?" I guessed.

"Wrong," she immediately responded, before standing up. "I'm sure you've heard of noblesse oblige-" I have but there's no need to let her know I do "-the basic principle that those who have power and ability should aid those who lack access to power or the ability to obtain it. It is from this idea that the club's philosophy is derived, that we, as the able, should help those who cannot help themselves, but not to give them what they need and instead to educate them on how to reach it. Give a man a fish, and he'll eat for a day, but teach a man to fish, and he'll eat for a lifetime-" not how that works given there are numerous extenuating factors such as fishing licenses, crowding out, fishing stocks running scarce as large fisheries catch far too many fish to be sustainable and hoard the resources in private hatcheries instead of public waters so that only they will have access to fish, yet another way in which the 'nobles' that she's talking about portray themselves as saviors and yet keep everyone else oppressed to maintain their position of power "and thus, we at the Service Club are here to aid all fellow students in whatever problems they may need us to assist with."

"Why did you make it sound like a brothel?" I can't stop myself from asking. Seriously though, there were way too many other words that would be much nicer, such as Student Assistance Club or something. Making it sound like we serve the student body has way too many negative connotations for me to deal with or bother to list out.

"Wha- of course a perverted being like you would jump straight into assuming this is a sexual situation," Yukinoshita growls, before primly sitting back down. "No, this has nothing to do with that in any way. If I were to dumb it down for your degraded brain, it would be apt to describe this place as a volunteering club. We are a group dedicated to helping out to ensure everyone else is able to succeed."

"Still didn't answer my question," I mutter, but move on before she can make more comments regarding the nature of my psyche. "Either way, irrelevant. So then, what is it that you've worked on? Hearing that its volunteering makes slightly more sense now since I haven't ever heard that you'd helped out anywhere."

"Well this club is relatively new, and we haven't publicized ourselves yet, but-" Yukinoshita tries to say, but I realize what she's getting at.

"So you've done nothing," I summarize, plainly enough. "And what's with the 'we'? It's clear that you're the only member of this thing."

"This is a new club, one that has not yet been publicized," she states, clearly slightly enraged now. Of course, this has its ups and downs, many downs of course, but for now I think it works out in making a case that this is an environment I cannot properly exist in. "Either way, that is still irrelevant. What we are here to do is solve your problem."

"My problem?" I repeat, slightly confused. "I don't believe that I have any that you could address, much less ones I would like you to fix."

"A classic case of narcissism," she states, somehow coming to that conclusion out of nowhere. "How arrogant to think that you lack flaws, and idiotic to not want them addressed."

"How arrogant of you to presume you could solve my problems," I fire back. "And how idiotic of you to believe that you should go around solving people's problems for them."

"Idiotic? Do explain."

"You create a dependency," I say after a few seconds of silence. "If people know that you help them solve problems, they rely on you to teach them how to do it. Once they rely on you, they fail to develop the skills that allow them to innovate and become proactive, because they know they have you as a failsafe. And on your end, that leaves you to decide whether to uphold your mission statement while knowingly debilitating people and depriving them of the skills they need to succeed. You are crippling them by not letting them grow."

"And if they need help, and cannot figure out how to do it?" Yukinoshita asks. I stop to consider this again, because it is a fair point. Nearly everything she has said has been a fair point, while we're counting, but there are ways to refute them and there are ways to defend them. Conversation is just an endless debate, in which neither side can agree on something. I hate activities like that, you know? Where once you reach the goal, there's nothing more to do. Once you solve a puzzle, it is no longer fun or entertaining to do again. When you reach a solution, there's no more challenge in attempting to solve the problem.

"Then let them fail," I state. "If they cannot do it, let them recognize that. Only when they realize that they can't do something, they will either offload it onto someone else in exchange for a fair trade of labor or capital, or they will seek proper education means. Or they give up. That's reasonable too. Either way, don't advertise a solution. Especially one that doesn't require work on their side. Even if you have the purest heart, your volunteering efforts will still do harm that minimizes the good."

"I cannot accept that," she says, and of course she does. I wait for her to refute the point, to respond to my argument, to prove me wrong. I want her to prove me wrong. It means I am not right, and I hate being right because me being right more often than not means the worse is correct, it means that the horrible aspects of society really are there and will not be fixed. Unfortunately for me, she decides to respond in a different way.

"Allowing people to fail is one thing, but withholding the means to help them succeed is another," she explains. "If you have the ability to help someone, you should. Otherwise, you create more harms than benefits, you take more than you give. If you help someone, you are doing what is right with the skills and talents that you possess. If not, you withhold your benefits from the community, and you prevent other people from living happy lives."

That is not what I was saying, but might as well respond to it. It's actually quite refreshing to be able to talk philosophy with someone, even if it is an argument as to whether or not volunteering is good. I like volunteering, don't get me wrong, but I like playing contrarian more. I also like exposing how volunteering ultimately doesn't address the problems that would give rise to a need to volunteer, the equivalent of washing your clothes and then storing them in dirt. Yes, you've made it so the problem is no longer that bad for a time, but as long as the system in which the problem exists is allowed to exist, the problem will never go away.

Communism is a meme anyway. It sure would be an ideal, but of course, every utopia has its flaws. I think that's the plot of Bioshock. Something about utopias, Ayn Rand, underwater cities, and guns. That third thing is pretty cool, while we're talking about this, but I can explain my fascination with the idea of an underwater civilization later when I'm not talking about why I shouldn't have to volunteer.

"Why is that bad?" I ask, and I can tell she's taken aback by the question. Of course, I could have responded in other ways, but this is something I want to hear her talking about based on how she's talked about other things. If it is in my interest to act selfishly, why should I give up my benefits for those of the community? "Should I, acting in my own interest, not seek to keep my skills and talents for my own use, such that I benefit from them and not lose out on opportunities and profit for the sake of others?"

"Of course not," she responds. "Doing so would cause the suffering of numerous other people, far outweighing-"

"But why should I care about other people suffering," I cut her off, and I stop for a second in surprise as she glares at me. For suggesting what I am, or for cutting her off, I can't tell. "If I am happy, is that not what I want? Why do I want someone else to be happy at my own expense? What incentive do I have to do things for someone else at cost to myself? Why should I dedicate myself to a cause that I do not benefit from?"

Yukinoshita opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it. I can tell that she is facing the same dilemma I did, questioning why anyone would ever take action for other people. I have my theory, my response to my idea, but sharing it would be pointless. She should develop her own worldview and act accordingly. And if I want to poke holes in it, then so be it. If your worldview is defensible, defend those holes. I will not accept it if you let me attack your philosophy without being able to justify why it is that yours is the one to follow. I'm not searching for perfection, I don't care for what idealized system you can imagine in which everyone is infinitely happy. I just want a solution, a reason to believe. Because if I can't believe, then I can't do, and therein lies my struggle.

"Whether or not volunteering is a good thing, it doesn't change the fact that you have flaws that you have to fix," Yukinoshita eventually says, and I nearly groan out loud. Not only was that a horrible way to change the subject, it loops around to the start of the conversation where we talked about whether or not flaws should-or could-be fixed, much less by other people. "And the first step is realizing that you are not perfect, and that you do have things you should change."

"I believe we went over this already," I state. "I have no responsibility to you, or to anyone else, to change. In fact, it would be better if-"

"I'm coming in!" Hiratsuka-sensei announces, kicking the door open. I for sure thought that was an anime trope and not something people could do in real life, though. Wouldn't that hurt? Chances are it would, but chances are also that I am a weak wuss who can't do physical activity for shit. Chances are I'd hurt myself kicking a hard surface. Maybe someone of sensei's strength wouldn't, though.

"It's clear you aren't getting anywhere," sensei addresses Yukinoshita, who turns to look at me.

"It's because he doesn't realize that he has a responsibility to change," she states, and I bite back my immediate reply of 'responsibility? To whom?' Rehashing the conversation with sensei nearby is a surefire way for me to face consequences of likely the physical kind, or she just tears down my entire argument by explaining the root problems of nihilism and cynicism. That seems like something she'd know about. She's probably really good at getting kids to function after they go through their emo phase.

Am I in an emo phase? It's a good question to ask, especially because I seem to have adopted some kind of 'nothing matters, society sucks, do cocaine' attitude and I don't even do cocaine. Perhaps that's what Yukinoshita wants to change within me, to make my consciousness return to a primitive form such that I no longer think about the things I do, I just do them. Maybe that would make me happier. Isn't that the plot of Brave New World? The utopia is set to ensure everyone is happy all the time, and the only objections are from those who are on the outside and arguing for agency and other bullshit human privileges. Maybe society would be happier if nobody knew what basic human rights were. Maybe I would be happier as a mindless drone.

"It's because I don't have a responsibility to change that I resist your efforts," I state. This conversation is getting nowhere, it's going to be a repeat of the last seven minutes but this time with a literature teacher glaring at me the whole time. Oh, how unfair. "It's a waste of time to change those who don't want to. Both because they'll resist it, and also because as soon as you're gone, they will revert to their old ways."

"Do you truly believe that people refuse to change when they need to?" sensei asks, and it's a surprising way for her to make her first mark on the conversation. And here I thought she was meant to be a neutral party, but I suppose the fact that both of them were ganging up on me means that isn't the case. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that, and Yukinoshita and sensei both appeared to be my enemy at this time.

"Not at all," I reply. "People can change if or when they want to. The issue is forcing that change, because people will resist any method of usurping their autonomy and freedom to choose. Forced change breeds resentment, which leads to resistance and rebellion."

"So then it's really come down to this," sensei sighs, and that makes zero sense because it hasn't come down to anything yet unless she's planning to make an anime-esque announcement of something so completely shocking it doesn't even count as a plot twist and instead as the author trying to completely rewrite the story. That's a thing, yep. "We will settle this with a contest!"

"Excuse me?" Yukinoshita and I both exclaim, briefly looking at each other before looking back at sensei. "Please explain," Yukinoshita requests.

"We are going to figure out which of you is correct through a competition throughout the school year," sensei states. "Hikigaya, what club are you in?"

"None," I freely admit. "I prefer to go home as soon as school ends, and would like it to remain that way."

"Too bad," sensei states. "Because now you are a member of the Service Club. Over the course of the year, students will come to you with requests, and you will do your best to help them solve their problems. If Hikigaya is right, those students will keep returning because they will not learn how to act on their own. If Yukinoshita is right, those students will learn from their experiences and develop."

"So you were listening to our conversation," I confirm, because it only makes sense. Either that or sensei knows Yukinoshita well enough to know exactly how she thinks, but that seems unlikely because there's no way that the ice queen would willingly open a conversation with someone. Actually that may not be true considering that's exactly what she did with me, completely unprompted, might I add.

"I was, and it was the perfect example of words meaning absolutely nothing," sensei confirms and now I do feel both vindicated and annoyed by the fact that my thoughts were proven correct. "You're very good at making nonsense points, but that skill means nothing to people who actually understand what you're saying."

"And what would they be able to do with that knowledge?" I can't stop myself from asking.

"Ignore you," sensei states. "Have you ever heard of Zeno's paradox, Hikigaya?" I shake my head. "Yukinoshita?" A similar reaction from the other student in the room.

"Think of it this way," she opens. "You want to go from the door to the window. First, you walk halfway between the door and the window. Then, you walk halfway between your new position in the window. Then, you walk halfway between your new position and the window. You cross through all of these points, halving the distance at some point on your journey, and because you have to half the space between you and the window an infinite number of times, you have to take an infinite number of actions to actually reach the window, meaning you can never reach the window."

"So by that logic, you will never be able to get anywhere, right?" I confirm. "But you can definitely walk from the door to the window. And touch it. So the words mean nothing despite being absolutely logically correct."

"Precisely," sensei confirms. "So when you say that you're dedicating yourself to a cause you aren't benefiting from, you may be correct. But when you ask why you should do that and expect an answer as to why you should do something you derive nothing good from, you ignore two details: one, that it does do you good, and two, that you should not solely do things from which you derive utility."

"Ignoring those statements for a second, how does this relate to Zeno's paradox?" Yukinoshita asks, confusion clearly winning over her eagerness to watch me get verbally abused.

"Hikigaya, you were making an argument that we can't disprove through words but can easily disprove through actions," sensei explains. "It's extremely hard to prove someone should do something they hate for any reason if they don't get benefit, and it's also hard to prove the benefit someone else will experience. But, it can be proven through your actions that you are correct. So? Wanna put your money where your mouth is?"

"Fine," I agree. "I'll play your game, and I'll prove that people won't change unless they specifically want to."

This was a mistake.

"Alright then, you're free to go," sensei states. "I've taken the liberty to fill out your club registration form for you in the meantime. Club meetings are after school hours, everyday."

"Fine," I say, before walking towards the door. I open it and step into the hallway.

This isn't where I stepped out of.


We shall get to the timeloop shenanigans soon. This story was somewhat inspired by Jacob Geller's "Time Loop Nihilism" video on youtube, and also I think Hikigaya is a wonderful bastard who deserves nothing more than to suffer as a projection of what I believe to be a shitty self-insert version of 14 year old me.