Chapter 1. Romance Dawn

The clubroom was bathed in the dim glow of the afternoon sun, streaks of golden light filtering through the dusty windows. The faint scent of old books and the lingering aroma of tea mixed with the slight crispness of the autumn air that sneaked in through a slightly ajar window. Yukinoshita sat at the clubroom table, sipping her tea with the refined poise of someone who probably knew which fork to use at a ten-course meal. Across from her, Yuigahama chattered away, her hands flailing like she was casting some ancient spell to summon a demon. I, meanwhile, sat at my usual spot, nose buried in a well-worn manga, selectively tuning in and out of their conversation.

It was strange how things had led up to this point.

I never asked for any of this. I never asked to be part of this club, nor did I ask to become some sort of reluctant problem-solver for the emotionally stunted youth of Sobu High. And yet, somehow, I was still here. It all started with that dumb dog—Yuigahama's dumb dog, to be precise. On my first day of high school, I got into an accident saving her dog from a car. Yuigahama even came to visit me in the hospital and handed me candy that Komachi had eaten. Life is cruel as expected. Six months ago, thanks to my masterpiece of a cynical essay, Hiratsuka-sensei in her infinite wisdom decided that my punishment should be this club.

And then there was Yukinoshita. Our first interactions were less like conversations and more like a strategic game of chess where every move resulted in someone getting insulted. She, of course, would say she was simply stating the truth, as if blunt honesty wasn't just rudeness with extra steps. Then Yuigahama joined, introducing an unpredictable element to our otherwise carefully balanced ecosystem. She was like an overexcited puppy who just discovered her tail for the first time—endearing, but exhausting.

Somehow, we had actually helped people. Zaimokuza and his delusions of grandeur. Totsuka—ah, Totsuka, the only light in my dark, twisted world. The sister of the bug Komachi hangs out with (I think her name is Kawa-something... Kawahonda, yeah, right) and her family drama. Even Hayama, the prince of Sobu High School.

And then there was the Sagami incident. And the fake confession to Ebina. You know, the kind of events that make you question whether it would have been easier to transfer to a school overseas and start a new life under a different name. After those, the club nearly collapsed like a poorly structured Jenga tower. But somehow, we were still here. Maybe that meant something. Maybe it didn't. Either way, I was still searching. Searching for something real. I didn't know what, but I had to believe that, eventually, I'd find it.

And, of course, there was the occasion when I made Iroha Isshiki president of the student council with my own. A choice that haunts me to this day. Since then, Isshiki sometimes comes to our club. And puts me to work. Seriously, like I'm a slave to the student council. But she didn't come today. Luckily for me.

"Hikigaya-kun."

A single word pulled me from my memories. I blinked, looking up from my manga to find Yukinoshita gazing at me with the same expression one might reserve for an insect that had just landed in their tea.

"Huh?"

"I said, since we don't have any clients today, we might as well end the club early," she repeated, setting her teacup down with a quiet clink.

"Oh, that's a great idea!" Yuigahama chimed in, practically bouncing in her seat. "Let's all walk home together!"

I glanced between the two of them. This had become a common occurrence lately. The club barely had any requests anymore. Maybe people had finally realized that relying on a socially unmotivated pessimist, an ice queen, and a human golden retriever wasn't the best idea for solving their personal crises.

Either way, it wasn't like I was going to argue. I sighed, closing my manga and slipping it into my bag.

"Fine. Whatever."

"You could at least pretend to be enthusiastic," Yukinoshita said, narrowing her eyes.

"I could, but then I'd be lying," I countered.

"Ugh, Hikki, don't be such a downer," Yuigahama pouted. "It's just walking home together, not a death sentence."

"That's what they all say before the tragic incident occurs," I muttered, standing up.

"With you, that's actually a legitimate concern," Yukinoshita added, smirking slightly.

"Oh, come on, Yukinon, don't encourage him!" Yuigahama whined.

"With Hikigaya-kun, encouragement is unnecessary. He thrives in misery."

With that, the three of us left the clubroom.

Stepping out of the school building, the crisp evening air greeted us, carrying with it the quiet hum of distant traffic and the occasional chirp of unseen birds. The sky had darkened into a deep blue, tinged with the last fading embers of sunset, casting long shadows on the pavement. I adjusted the strap of my bag and followed a step behind Yukinoshita and Yuigahama, who were engrossed in their usual back-and-forth.

"So, what would you do if you got superpowers, Hikki?" Yuigahama suddenly asked, breaking through the comfortable silence.

I sighed. There it was—the kind of question only someone who still believed in the magic of youth would ask. "That's a pointless thing to think about. Superpowers don't exist. Imagining otherwise is just a waste of time."

Yuigahama puffed out her cheeks. "Ugh, you're such a killjoy! C'mon, just humor me."

"Fine," I said, stuffing my hands into my pockets. "If I had superpowers, I'd use them to... not use them. Because drawing attention to yourself like that is just asking for trouble. And anyone who actually dreams about this stuff clearly hasn't thought about the consequences."

Yuigahama groaned. "Wow, way to ruin the fun, Hikki."

"I suppose he does have a point," Yukinoshita mused. "Most people who fantasize about gaining powers often fail to consider the burden that comes with them. Though, as expected, the answer from Hikigaya-kun is as miserable as his outlook on life."

"That's not true, Yukinoshita. I can be fun."

"Oh? And what, pray tell, is your definition of fun?"

I opened my mouth to respond but quickly realized I had nothing to say. Fun? Was she expecting me to suddenly become the life of the party? Maybe my idea of fun was watching others make fools of themselves from a safe distance. That counted, right?

Yuigahama crossed her arms and pouted. "You two always gang up on me."

"That's because your arguments are weak, Yuigahama-san," Yukinoshita said with her usual calm detachment.

"Mean!"

And so, after more lighthearted bickering, we eventually arrived at Yukinoshita's place. They waved me off as they stepped inside, and I turned to make my way home, relishing the thought of finally getting some alone time with Vita-chan.

Upon entering my house, I immediately noticed the absence of my sister. Strange. Komachi was usually home by now. Then again, knowing her, she was probably off somewhere hanging out with that Kawa-what's-his-name. I sighed and dropped my bag by the door, stretching my arms before heading straight to my room.

I picked up my Vita-chan and was mere seconds away from immersing myself in its warm embrace when a far more primal need took precedence—hunger. Cursing my human limitations, I dragged myself to the kitchen in search of sustenance.

Opening the refrigerator, my eyes landed on something unexpected. A fruit sat on the middle shelf—spherical, deep violet in color, with strange swirling patterns on its surface. A single thick stem jutted out from its top, giving it an oddly artificial appearance, like something out of a fantasy story.

Curious, I picked it up. "Did Komachi buy this? Doesn't look like anything we usually have..."

I didn't think much of it. Hunger won over caution, and before I could rationalize my actions, I took a bite.

The moment my teeth sank into the flesh, I regretted every decision that had led me to this point.

"Blegh! This is awful!" I gagged, forcing myself to swallow. The taste was like a mix of expired medicine and despair—bitter, sour, and utterly revolting. And yet, for some reason, I took another bite, as if my taste buds needed a second confirmation that, yes, this fruit was an insult to all edible things.

Then, the strangest sensation washed over me. It was as if my entire body suddenly became... looser? My limbs felt light, yet oddly firm. Something was off.

A sudden itch crawled up my arm, and when I instinctively moved to scratch it, my fingers stretched.

No, really. They stretched.

I blinked.

"Huh. That's... probably not normal."

I shook my hand, but the effect remained. My fingers extended far beyond their usual range before snapping back like a rubber band.

Okay. That was weird.

Experimentally, I reached for the far end of the kitchen counter. My arm elongated, stretching across the room with the fluidity of an elastic band, my fingertips brushing the surface before snapping back to my side.

"...Alright, I think I might have made a mistake."

My mind raced. What was this fruit? Some kind of bizarre, genetically modified experiment? Had I just given myself an incurable disease? Worse—was this the part where I discovered I had sold my soul to some cosmic entity in exchange for stretchy limbs?

I guess that means I'm the protagonist of some shonen manga, right? I'm already imagining dramatic music playing as I save the day. Maybe I'll get my own fan club, too. But wait, of course there's Hayama, with his perfect looks and popularity. Heck, he's the one who was made to be the main character, not me! Yeah, I'm definitely the antagonist here.

Kill me now.