Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 1 - Chapter 6

6

But Saika Totsuka has one.

My little sister, Komachi, held a slice of toast slathered in jam in one hand as she enthusiastically pored over a fashion magazine. I was peeking at it from the side while drinking my morning black coffee. The articles in the magazine were filled with extremely irritating terms like safe sex and super-hot. I felt like I was getting stupider just reading it, my coffee dribbling out the corners of my mouth as I went bleagh. Come on, was this for real? Is Japan gonna be okay? It seemed to me that if you were to grade the intellect of this article on a bell curve, it would only come out to around the twenty-fifth percentile. What’s more, my sister was nodding along as she read it. Just what part of this is resonating with you?

I was told that this fashion magazine, Heaventeen, is the number one magazine among middle-school girls, and in fact, those who don’t read it actually get bullied. Komachi went ooh appreciatively as she dropped crumbs on the page. Are you doing a solo Hansel and Gretel or what?

It was seven forty-five. “Hey. Look at the time.” My sister was deep into the magazine, so I poked her shoulder with my elbow and let her know it was about time to go.

Komachi raised her head with a gasp and checked the clock. “Ack! Crap!” she yelled, immediately closing the magazine with a slap and standing up.

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at your mouth, look! There’s stuff on it.”

“Huh? No way. I’m jammed?”

“Is your mouth an automatic rifle? That word does not mean what you think it means.”

My sister swiped her mouth with a pajama sleeve while grousing, “Oh, crap!” She was quite a handsome man, my sister.

“You know, Bro, sometimes I don’t get what you’re talking about.”

“That’s you. You mean you!”

Completely ignoring me, Komachi began panicking and flailing her way into her school uniform. She threw off her pj’s, baring smooth white skin, a white sports bra, and white panties.

Don’t undress here. Not here.

Little sisters are mysterious creatures. No matter how cute they are, you don’t really feel anything toward them. I can only regard her underwear as mere pieces of cloth. She was cute, but all I could think about her was I guess it’s because she looks like me. This is how it is with real little sisters.

I gave Komachi a sidelong glance as she covered herself in a sloppily arranged uniform. She flashed her panties below her knee-length skirt as she pulled on her socks and rolled them down twice to her ankles. I pulled the milk and sugar toward me.

Maybe she was trying to make her boobs grow this month or something, because lately she’d been drinking a lot of milk. I didn’t really give a damn. But putting the phrase the milk my sister drank in meaningful-sounding italics makes it sound kind of lewd and depraved. But who really cared? I didn’t pull the sugar and milk toward me because it was the milk my sister drank. I just wanted to put it in my coffee.

I was a natural-born child of Chiba, the kind they say gets marinated in Max coffee for their first bath and is suckled on the stuff instead of breast milk, so my coffee had to be sweet. Condensed milk would have been even better. But I could drink it black, too, okay?

“Life is bitter, so coffee at least should be sweet,” I muttered to myself, tossing back the heavily sugared drink. That line could have been a Max coffee slogan.

So good… The ad copy I just came up with, I mean. They should actually use it.

“Bro! I’m ready!”

“Bro is still drinking his coffee.” I replied, doing an impersonation that did not remotely resemble something I’d seen in reruns of From the Northern Country.

But of course Komachi didn’t notice. She just cheerfully sang, “I’m late!   I’m late!  ” It made me wonder if she actually wanted to be late or what.

This was something that happened a few months ago, but this one time, my idiot of a sister slept in and was running late for school, so I ended up taking her on the back of my bike. Ever since then, I’ve gradually been taking her to school more and more often.

Nothing is less trustworthy than a woman’s tears. Komachi in particular had that special knack for crying that younger girls do, and she was a master at manipulating her older brother. She was vicious. Thanks to her, the idea that women = “people who use men like my little sister Komachi does” is imprinted on my brain. “If I can’t trust women anymore, it’ll be your fault. What’ll I do when I’m old if I can’t get married?”

“Then I’ll take care of you somehow, okay?” She grinned. I’d always thought of her as a child, but something about that look on her face was mature. I felt my heart skip a beat. “I’ll work hard, save money, and put you in an old folks home or something.”

Maybe less mature and more just your typical adult.

“You really are my little sister.” I sighed. I gulped down the rest of my coffee and stood. Komachi prodded my back:

“It’s already this late because you’re so slow! I’m gonna be late!”

“You brat…” If she weren’t my sister, I definitely would have given her a punt. Usually, it was the other way around, but in the Hikigaya household, things are different. My old man was abnormally fond of my sister, and his famous saying of I’ll kill any man who comes near her, even her brother had gotten even me to back off. If I’d tried to kick her, I would have been beaten and thrown out of the house.

Well, in other words, I was of the lowest caste in my own home. Nevermind about school.

I walked out the door and threw my leg over my bicycle, and Komachi climbed on the back. She put her arms firmly around my waist and held on tight. “Let’s go!”

“You’re not even gonna say thanks?” Riding with two people on a bicycle violated traffic laws, but as Komachi was basically an infant on the inside, I’d like to beg leniency on this one matter.

I lightly set us rolling, and Komachi nagged, “Don’t get into an accident this time. Because I’m riding with you today.”

“You don’t care if I get into an accident when I’m riding alone?”

“No, no, no. Bro, I’m just worried because sometimes you get this rotten-fish look in your eyes and start zoning out. This is sisterly love, okay?” she placated, smushing her face into my back like a pest. Had it not been for that preceding line, it would’ve come off as cute, but at this point, it just felt manipulative.

Still, it wasn’t my intention to cause my family needless worry. “Yeah, I’ll watch out.”

“Especially when I’m riding with you. For serious.”

“I’ll ride over every bump on the road, you brat.” Despite my remark, I didn’t want to hear her griping Ow! and You bumped my butt! and I’m damaged goods now! so I chose even ground. Those exclamations of hers made everyone in the neighborhood give me the stink-eye. In any case, it was a safe ride.

On the day of my entrance ceremony, I’d gotten into a traffic accident. I’d been so excited about the ceremony and my new life, I’d left the house an hour early, but it was not to be my lucky day.

It was around seven AM, I think. A girl had been walking her dog in the neighborhood, and it had gotten off its leash. Unfortunately, just then, a fancy-looking limousine drove up. Before I knew what I was doing, I raced over as fast as I could. In the end, I’d been carried away in an ambulance and hospitalized. That incident sealed my fate as a loner at my new school.

As a result of that accident, my brand-spanking-new bicycle got totaled, and my golden left leg got fractured. Had I been a soccer player, it would’ve thrown a shadow over the entire future of soccer in Japan. It was a good thing I didn’t play soccer.

I was saved in the sense that my injury hadn’t been that severe. There was no saving me, though, from that fact that nobody came to see me in the hospital except my family. They visited me every three days. Hey, you should visit every day!

After I was hospitalized, it had apparently become a family tradition for my parents to take my sister to go out to eat. With each visit, they regaled me with the details, saying things like We ate sushi the other day or We had barbecue. I considered snapping my sister’s pinky.

“But you know, it’s a good thing you got better quick. I’m sure it was because you had a good cast. Casts really work well on liniments, huh?”

“You idiot, that’s ligaments. Plus, I didn’t injure my ligament. It was a bone fracture!”

“You’re being incomprehensible again, Bro.”

“No! You’re the one being incomprehensible! It’s you!”

But nothing I said had an impact, and Komachi changed the subject as if that was the reasonable thing to do. “S’yeah…”

“Huh? A reference to Issei Fuubi Sepia? That’s way too old, come on.”

“I was saying ‘so, yeah,’ Bro. You’re bad at listening.”

“You’re bad at talking.”

“So yeah, after your accident, the owner of that doggy came to our place to say thanks.”

“I didn’t know that…”

“You were unconscious. So we got some sweets. They were yummy.”

“Hey, I definitely didn’t get any of that. Why’d you eat ’em all without telling me?” I demanded, turning, but Komachi just smiled coyly, giggling like tee-hee  . She was so infuriating.

“But you go to the same school, you know? Haven’t you met? They said they were gonna say thanks to you at school.”

Without thinking, I screeched to a halt. Komachi yelled, “Ah!” and buried her face in my back. “Why’d you stop so suddenly?!”

“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? Didn’t you get a name?”

“Huh? I think it was ‘the sweets person’?”

“What, are you buying treats for the office? And don’t say it like you’d say ‘the ham man.’ What was the actual name?”

“Hmm, I forgot. Oh! We’re at school. I’m off!” No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she hopped off my bike and dashed off toward the school gates.

“What a brat.” I glared at her receding back.

Right before she disappeared into the school building, she spun around and saluted me. “See you later! Thanks, Bro!” she said, waving her hand and smiling. Despite what a terrible sister she was, I felt like she was a little bit cute just then. I waved back at her, and when she saw, she added, “Watch out for cars!”

I sighed lightly in exasperation, turned my bicycle around, and headed to school…the very school where the aforementioned dog owner was presumed to be.

I didn’t have any particular desire for a meeting. I was just a little bit curious. But if we hadn’t met after attending the same school for over a year, the disinterest in a reunion was probably mutual. Well, that’s how it goes. I’d saved someone’s dog and gotten a fracture. Coming to my house to say thanks was probably enough.

Glancing at the basket on the front of my bike, I noticed a black school bag inside that wasn’t mine. “That idiot.” I promptly turned around and started pedaling back to find Komachi running after me with tears in her eyes.

The start of a new month came with new gym activities. At my school, three gym classes were merged into one, so you had a total of sixty boys who were subsequently split into two units. Until recently, we’d been doing volleyball and track. This month, it was tennis and soccer.

Neither Zaimokuza nor I were really team players. We were more like solo superstars who focused on individual technique. And so, judging that we’d actually be a hindrance in a soccer scenario, we both chose tennis.

I was the man who threw away his soccer career due to that old leg injury after all. Not that I’d ever actually played soccer. But apparently, a lot of people wanted to play tennis this year, so following a fierce rock-paper-scissors tournament, I remained alive on the tennis side while Zaimokuza lost, getting consigned to the soccer side.

“Heh, Hachiman. ’Tis tragic I will have not the opportunity to unveil my magic strike. With whom am I supposed to practice passing with if you’re not around?!” His sentence had started firm and resolute, but by the end of it, his expression was tearful and pleading. It was quite moving. And I was likely to have the same problem.

Then tennis practice started. After some half-assed warm-ups, the gym teacher, Atsugi, gave us a lecture on the basics. “Okay then, try doing some rallies. Split into groups of two, one person on either side of the net,” he ordered, and everyone paired up, moving to either end of the court.

How can you guys react so quickly, finding partners without even looking around? Are you masters of the no-look pass or what?

My loner radar pinged, detecting a public shaming on the horizon. Fear not. I keep a secret plan in my back pocket precisely for situations such as this. “Um, I’m not really feeling well, so can I just hit a ball against the wall? I think I’d just be a bother to the others,” I announced, and without waiting for Atsugi’s reply, I swiftly proceeded to rebound a tennis ball with the wall as my partner. Once I got started, Atsugi had missed his opportunity to reply, so he didn’t say anything.

Absolutely perfect.

The synergistic objection combo of I don’t feel well plus I’d be a bother is so effective because of the implication that you really want to participate in the given activity. After many long years as a loner, I’d finally mastered the ultimate technique for dealing with pairing off in gym class. I’ll teach it to Zaimokuza, too, eventually. He’ll weep tears of joy.

I passed the time serving the ball, chasing it, and returning it deftly in an almost mechanical fashion. Meanwhile, I could hear the cheers of raucous boys celebrating fancy rallies.

“Hya! Whoa! Nice, huh? Pretty sweet, huh?”

“That was so sweet! There’s no way he’s gonna get it! You’ve got this one in the bag!” they exclaimed, looking like they were having fun as they practiced volleying.

I turned in their direction, thinking, Shut up and die, to find Hayama among them.

Hayama’s group was less a pair and more of a quartet. There was the blond guy he often hung out with in class, but who were the other two? I didn’t recognize them, so they were probably from Class C or Class I. Either way, they were exuding a cool-kid aura. It was the most boisterous spot in the court.

The blond who’d failed to return Hayama’s smash suddenly yelled “Whoa!” and everyone around glanced his way to see what was going on. “Oh man! That hit just now, Hayama! That was so hard-core! Did it spin? It just spun, right?”

“Nah, I just hit a slice by accident. Sorry, I messed up,” Hayama apologized, one hand raised.

The blond completely overreacted, drowning out Hayama’s apology. “No way! A slice?! That’s, like, a miracle ball! That’s seriously crazy. You’re hard-core, Hayama.”

“Oh, you think?” Hayama matched his friend’s energetic attitude and smiled cheerfully.

Then the two who’d been practicing beside them chimed in. “You’re pretty good at tennis, Hayama. Teach me how to do that slice you just did.” The sycophant approaching Hayama had brown hair and a quiet expression. He was probably in the same class. I didn’t know his name and, given that, figured he was no one important.

In a flash, Hayama’s group had become a sextet. It was the largest party ever to grace this class. You know, the word sextet sounds rather like sexroid. Yes, yes, it’s dirty, very dirty.

Anyway, that was how the tennis lessons became the Kingdom of Hayama. It began to feel like if thou art not in Hayama’s group, thou shalt not participate in PE. Naturally, everyone who wasn’t in Hayama’s little circle got all quiet. This is censorship. Bring back free speech.

You’d rightly assume that Hayama’s group was rowdy, but it wasn’t Hayama himself actively starting conversations. It was the people around him who were noisy. Actually, it was the self-appointed cabinet minister of their contingent, the blond one, who was loud.

“Sliiiice!”

See? He was loud.

The shot the blond had just made wasn’t a slice at all. It went wide past Hayama into a corner of the court, flying to a dark, dank place where the sun did not shine. In other words, right at me.

“Oh! Sorry! Pardon, for real. Um…uh…Hi? Hikitani? Hikitani, can you get me the ball?”

Who the hell is Hikitani? I didn’t care enough to correct him, so I just picked up the ball from where it was rolling around and threw it back to him.

“Thanks!” A brilliant smile on his face, Hayama waved at me.

I returned his greeting with a slight bow. Why was I bowing here? I’d apparently instinctively judged Hayama to be my social superior. Even I had to admit that was beta of me. I was feeling so inferior, I even wondered if there were other, better betas out there than me. My feelings growing increasingly gloomy, I smacked them against the wall.

With youth, there comes walls.

Speaking of walls, why is the slang term for a girl with small breasts nurikabe? I wonder. According to one theory, nurikabe are actually magically transformed tanuki—you know, the wild Japanese raccoon dog—and the barrier spirit is actually the tanuki’s balls stretched out wide. What kind of wall is that? Certainly a surprisingly soft one! And doesn’t that means that, paradoxically, that small-breasted girls being belittled as nurikabe are actually really soft? QED, proof complete. Stupid.

At any rate, that wasn’t the kind of thing Hayama could figure out. That miraculous hypothesis was only made possible by my extraordinary sensibilities.

Yeah, I’d call today a draw. Let’s do that.

Lunch time.

I was eating lunch in my usual spot, outside the first floor of the special-use building, right by the nurse’s office, diagonally from the rear of the school. It was situated in such a way that I could look over at the tennis court. I munched away at a sausage roll, a tuna rice ball, and a Neopolitan bun. I was at ease.

A rhythmic thumping like a hand drum seduced me into drowsiness. Apparently, during lunch hour, a girl from the girls’ tennis club practiced on the court. She always faced the wall, served, and then gallantly chased after the ball before returning it. I watched her running around while scarfing down every last bite of my meal.

Lunch hour would likely be over soon. I slurped lemon tea from a juice box as the wind whooshed by. Its direction had changed.

It depended on the weather, but because the school was right by the sea, the direction of the wind generally shifted around noon. In the morning, a sea breeze blew off the water, but then it would change to blow back the other way, as if returning from whence it came. Feeling that breeze on my skin as I sat alone wasn’t a bad way to spend lunch.

“Huh? Oh, it’s you, Hikki.” The air current carried a familiar voice to my ears. When I turned to look, Yuigahama was standing there, holding down her skirt against the blustery wind. “Why’re you in a place like this?”

“I always eat my lunch here.”

“Oh, really? Why? Wouldn’t you rather eat in the classroom?” she asked, the look on her face telling me that she was sincerely baffled.

I replied with silence. If I could do that, I wouldn’t be eating here, duh. Get a clue, seriously. Let’s change the subject. “Anyway, why are you here?”

“Oh, that’s right! Actually, Yukinon beat me at rock-paper-scissors, so this is, like, my punishment?”

“Talking to me is your punishment?” Hey, that’s really mean. Maybe I’ll just go off and die.

“N-no, no! The loser just has to go buy juice!” Yuigahama got all flustered, flailing her hands around in denial.

Oh, that was good to hear. I’d almost gone and killed myself there. I sighed in relief, and Yuigahama plunked herself down daintily beside me.

“Yukinon didn’t want to at first, though. She was like, ‘I can obtain my own sustenance myself. Why should fulfilling a mild desire for conquest bring me pleasure?’” For some reason, she imitated Yukinoshita’s voice as she said it. It was stunningly accurate.

“Well, that sounds like her.”

“Yeah, but when I said, ‘You don’t think you can win?’ she accepted.”

“That sounds like her.” Yukinoshita tried to act cool, but she really was a sore loser when it came to competitions. I mean, she’d taken on Ms. Hiratsuka’s challenge the other day, too.

“So, like, the minute Yukinon won, she silently did this tiny fist pump. It was actually really cute.” Yuigahama sighed in satisfaction. “I kinda feel like this is the first time I’ve had fun getting punished for losing a game.”

“You’ve done that stuff before?” I asked, and Yuigahama nodded.

“Just a bit.”

The moment she said it, I suddenly remembered. Oh yeah, there was always that dumb-looking group in the corner of the classroom around the end of lunch making a fuss after a game of rock-paper-scissors…

“Hmph. Fun times with your in-crowd, I guess.”

“Why d’you have to act like that? You’re so mean. So you hate that stuff?”

“Of course I hate stuff like in-crowds and in-jokes. Oh, I like in-fighting, though. Because I’m never part of the ‘in.’”

“That’s a sad reason, and you’re a terrible person.”

Leave me alone.

Yuigahama smiled, holding her hair back as the wind blew past her. The expression on her face was different from the one she’d had when she was with Miura and her friends in the classroom.

Oh, I saw why.

I couldn’t be entirely certain, but I thought her makeup wasn’t as heavy as before. She’d changed it to a more natural look. Or maybe she’d changed it at some other point before. But I never go staring at girls’ faces, so I don’t really know. I suppose this was proof that she’d changed. It was a pretty small change, though. With nearly no makeup on, her eyes relaxed when she smiled, making her seem younger and more guileless.

“But you’ve got your own in-crowd, Hikki. You always look like you’re having fun when you’re chatting with Yukinon at the club. Man, sometimes I feel like I can’t join in.” Yuigahama pulled her legs in and hugged them as she spoke, burying her face in her knees as her eyes darted toward me questioningly. “I’d like to talk more and stuff… N-not in a weird way, though! I-I mean with Yukinon, too! You get that, right?!”

“Relax. I’m not going to get the wrong idea about you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Yuigahama jerked her head up, huffing mad.

When I saw her get ready for a punch, I thrust out a hand, trying to get her to calm down before I spoke. “Well, Yukinoshita is different. She’s a force majeure.”

“She’s what?”

“Hmm? Oh, force majeure means ‘powers or circumstances that cannot be resisted with human ability.’ Sorry for using such difficult words.”

“That’s not what I meant! I understand what the words mean! And don’t treat me like I’m stupid! I did pass the entrance exams to get into this school, you know!” Yuigahama chopped me in the throat with her hand. It was a clean hit on my Adam’s apple, and I choked.

A faraway look clouded her eyes. “Hey, speaking of the entrance exams, do you remember the day of the entrance ceremony?” she asked me earnestly.

“Huh? Khoff khak khak… What? Oh, I was in a traffic accident that day.”

“An accident…”

“Yeah. On the first day of school, I was biking there when some idiot let go of their dog’s leash. The dog was about to get hit by a car, so I protected the dog with my own body. I was so gallant and heroic and super-cool.”

I guess I was dramatizing it a bit, but as nobody else knew about the incident anyway, nobody would care. More importantly, since nobody knew about it, nobody else was gonna bring it up, so I had to make myself look good.

On hearing that, though, Yuigahama’s face twitched, and she stiffened. “S-some idiot…? Y-you don’t…remember who, Hikki?”

“Well, I wasn’t really in a frame of mind to be thinking about that. I was in a lot of pain. Whoever it was didn’t leave much of an impression on me, anyway, so it was probably somebody pretty bland.”

“Bland…? I-it’s true I wasn’t wearing any makeup that day… My hair wasn’t dyed, either, and I was wearing some pajamas or something I just threw on, but… Oh, but the pattern on my pj’s was teddy bears, so maybe it was a little dumb-looking…”

Yuigahama’s voice was so quiet I couldn’t hear what she was saying at all. She barely opened her mouth as she chewed on her words, face downcast. Did she have a stomachache or what?

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing… Anyway! You don’t remember that girl, right?!”

“Like I told you, I don’t remember… Huh? Did I say it was a girl?”

“Huh?! Uh…you did, you did! You totally said it! Actually, you said nothing but girls!”

“How creepy do you think I am?” I retorted, and Yuigahama tittered as if hiding something as she turned to look at the tennis court, a smile still on her face. Her movement drew me to face that direction as well.

The tennis club girl who’d just been practicing by herself was coming back, wiping off her sweat as she walked.

“Hey! Sai-chaaaan!” Yuigahama called out, waving. Apparently, it was someone she knew. When the girl noticed Yuigahama, she ran to us at a trot. “Hey. Practicing?”

“Yeah. Our team is really bad, so I have to spend my lunches practicing, too… I asked if I could please use the court at lunch, and I finally got the okay. What are you and Hikigaya doing here, Yuigahama?”

“Aw, nothing much.” Yuigahama said, turning to me like Right?

No, I was eating my lunch, and you were in the middle of running an errand, weren’t you? What kind of birdbrain are you? Don’t forget stuff so fast.

The girl, whose name was apparently Sai-chan, giggled, as if to say, Oh, really?

“You’re practicing at lunch even though we’re doing tennis in class, huh, Sai-chan? That’s got to be rough!”

“Oh, no. I’m doing it because I like it. Oh, and Hikigaya, you’re good at tennis, aren’t you?”

The conversation unexpectedly turned toward me, and I naturally fell silent. What? This is news to me. And actually, who are you? How do you know my name? A number of questions sprang to mind, but before I could say anything, Yuigahama made a drawn-out ooooooh noise, like she was impressed.

“Really?”

“Yeah, his form is really good.”

“Aw, you’re making me blush! Ha-ha-ha! So who is she?” I was considerate enough to say that last part very quietly so that only Yuigahama could hear. But Yuigahama was all about smashing apart that consideration.

“Whaaaat?! But you’re in the same class! And, like, you have gym together! Why don’t you know?! I can’t believe it!”

“D-don’t be dumb. I totally remember! It just slipped my mind for a second! And hey, the girls have gym separately!” She’d completely squandered my tact. Now it was totally obvious that I didn’t remember this girl’s name. Her eyes were too much to handle. If she’d been a dog, she’d have been Chihuahua level. Had she been a cat, she’d have been up there with Munchkins. She came off just that cute and loveable.

“Ah, aha-ha. So you don’t remember my name, huh…? I’m in your class. I’m Saika Totsuka.”

“O-oh, sorry. It hasn’t been long since we last switched classes, so I just sort of…you know? Right?”

“We were in the same class in first-year, too… I guess I’m just forgettable…”

“No, that’s not true! It’s just…you know… I don’t really talk to the girls in our class, so I never get to know their names…”

“Just remember it already!” Yuigahama hit my head with a smack. Watching us, Totsuka looked reproachful as she mumbled, “You two sure are close, huh…?”

“Wh-what?! W-we’re not close at all! All there is between us is the urge to kill! It’s like I’m gonna kill Hikki and then kill myself or something like that!”

“That’s right. Wait—what?” I spluttered. “That’s scary! You’re scaring me! I don’t want your lover’s suicide or whatever! That stuff is too heavy!”

“Huh?! Don’t be stupid! I didn’t mean it that way!”

“You really are close…,” Totsuka said softly, this time turning back to me again. “I’m a boy, though. Do I look that delicate?”

“Huh?” Both my body and my mind ground to a halt. I jerked my head over to look at Yuigahama, asking her with my eyes, You’re kidding, right? She nodded, her cheeks still tinged red as if her anger still hadn’t cooled.

Huh? For real?! No way! You’re kidding me, right?

Totsuka, noticing my dubious expression, looked down, his face also red. Turning up his eyes, he glanced at me. He slowly tucked his hands into the pockets of his shorts. It was an awfully bewitching gesture. “I can prove it to you if you want?”

Something twitched inside my heart.

Devil Hachiman whispered into my right ear. Why not? Have him show you! You might get super-lucky, ya know? Well, yeah, that was true. This wasn’t the sort of chance you’d get every day after all.

Hold it right there! Oh, here he is, the angel’s here. If he’s offering, why not just have him take off his shirt?

Don’t talk to me like that. You’re no angel.

In the end, I decided to trust in my own rationality.

Indeed, androgynous characters such as this one are brilliant precisely because of their androgyny. Rationality led me to this perspective, and it prodded me toward more level-headed judgment. “Anyway, yeah, sorry. Even if I didn’t know, I still hurt your feelings.” I waffled, and Totsuka shook his head, flinging away the tears that had welled up in his eyes as he smiled.

“No, it’s okay.”

“But anyway, Totsuka. I’m surprised you know my name.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I mean, you stand out, Hikigaya.”

Yuigahama stared at me. “Huh? He’s pretty plain. I didn’t think you’d recognize him without some special reason.”

“You jerk, I stand out! I stand out like a field of glittering stars against the night sky.”

“No, you don’t,” she replied with an incredibly serious look on her face.

“I-if you’re all alone in the corner of the classroom, it actually makes you stand out, though.”

“Oh yeah, that’s true…oh, uh, sorry.” After that, Yuigahama looked away. That kind of attitude hurt more, though.

Right when it seemed as though the mood would turn heavy again, Totsuka made a save. “So anyway, you’re pretty good at tennis, Hikigaya. Do you play a lot?”

“No, the last time I played it was Mario Tennis back in elementary school. I’ve never done it in real life.”

“Oh, that’s the one everyone plays together at parties,” Yuigahama said. “I’ve played that before. The doubles and stuff are really fun.”

“I’ve only ever played it alone, though.”

“Huh? Oh…uh, sorry.”

“What, are you part of the land mine disposal team in my heart now? Is it your job to dig up every single bit of trauma I have?”

“You’re just full of too many bombs!”

Totsuka watched our exchange with an amused smile. Then the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch hour. “Let’s head back,” Totsuka said, and Yuigahama followed after him. I watched them, feeling rather odd.

I see. They’re in the same class, so it’s obvious they would go together, huh. That sort of thing always left an impression on me.

“Hikki? What’re you doing?” Yuigahama turned and gave me a puzzled glare. Totsuka stopped as well, turning to face me.

I can come with you? I started to say and then stopped.

Instead, I said this: “You’re not gonna get her that juice?”

“Huh? …Ahh!”

A few days went by, and it was gym class again. My frequent wall practice was slowly turning me into a wall-shot master. Now I could do a serious rally with the wall without even taking a single step.

And starting the next day, we would be playing matches for a few classes. In other words, this was my final day of rally practice. Since it was my last, I figured I’d smack that ball with all I had, but just as that thought crossed my mind, I got poked in the shoulder.

What was this, a guardian spirit, prodding me from behind? Since nobody would talk to me, it had to be a supernatural phenomenon, right? Or so I thought as I turned to find a finger jabbing my right cheek.

“Aha! I got you!” The source of that cute laugh was Saika Totsuka.

Huh? No way. What was this feeling? My heart was pounding in my chest. I felt like if he wasn’t a guy, I’d have been confessing feelings to him immediately only to be rejected just as quickly.

Wait, I’d be getting rejected?!

Well, once I’d seen Totsuka in his uniform, it was clear he was a guy, but when he was wearing something like gym clothes—which were the same for both boys and girls—for a minute there, you weren’t quite sure. Had he worn black knee-highs instead of ankle socks, I definitely wouldn’t have been able to tell.

His arms, waist, and legs were all slender, and his skin was transparently white.

Well, he didn’t have boobs, obviously, but Yukinoshita was lacking to about the same degree in that department, too.

Whoa, just thinking about her made me shiver in terror. Thankfully, though, that thought sobered me enough to reply to the broadly grinning Totsuka.

“What’s up?”

“Hey. The person I always partner with isn’t here today. So…maybe…you could do it with me?”

Hey, stop looking up at me like that. It’s so cute. Don’t blush like that. Hey. 

“Oh, sure. I’m alone, anyway.” I replied. Sorry I couldn’t whack you with a ball, wall…

After I apologized to the wall, Totsuka exhaled in relief and quietly mumbled, “I was so nervous!”

If you start saying stuff like that, I’m gonna be the one getting nervous here. For real, too cute. I’d heard from Yuigahama that a faction among the girls were calling him the prince because he was so cute. Did the word prince imply the desire to protect him, then?

And so Totsuka and I began our rally practice. He was in the tennis club, so he was actually pretty good. My serves had reached an unparalleled level of accuracy through my wall practice, but he skillfully received them, returning them directly in front of me.

We repeated that hit and return over and over again, and perhaps feeling as if it was even becoming monotonous, Totsuka spoke. “You really are good, Hikigaya.” We were pretty far apart, so his voice was drawn out and slow.

“Because I’ve been practicing against a wall. I’ve mastered tennis.”

“That’s squash! It’s not tennis!”

We both continued talking in our drawn-out yells as our rally continued. Other students were hitting and then missing, receiving and then missing, and we were the only ones who kept it going for a long stretch.

Then the rally stopped. The ball bounced toward Totsuka, and he caught it. “Let’s take a little break.”

“Sure.”

We sat down together. So why are you sitting beside me? I guess it’s not weird. Usually, when guys sit together, they face each other or sit diagonally from each other, right? Isn’t this kind of close? It’s close, isn’t it?

“Hey, I’d like to ask you for some advice, Hikigaya.” Totsuka pronounced, looking serious.

I see. He’d have to sit this close if he wanted to talk about something secret, huh? That’s why he’s so close, right? “Advice, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s about the tennis club. We’re really bad, you know? And we don’t have enough people. Once the third-years graduate after the next tournament, I think we’ll get even worse. A lot of the first-years only started in high school, and they’re not really very good yet… Plus, because we’re so bad, it feels like we can’t get motivated. And when you don’t have many people, every member automatically makes the team, too.”

“I see.”

That made sense. I think it’s something that often happens with tiny clubs. A weak club couldn’t scrape together enough members, and a club without enough members would have no competition to make it to the slot of a regular. So even if members took the day off or skipped, they’d still be able to go to the tournaments, and if you go to competitions, you pretty much feel like you’re on the team.

I bet there’s quite a few people out there who would be satisfied with that even if they didn’t win. A club like that would never get any better, and because they weren’t any good, they couldn’t recruit members, and thus the downward spiral would continue.

“So…would you mind possibly joining the tennis club?”

“Huh?” Why are you asking me that? I asked with my eyes alone.

Totsuka sat there with his legs drawn up in front, making himself seem smaller, occasionally glancing at me with pleading eyes.

“You’re good at tennis, Hikigaya, and I think you can get even better. Plus, I think it will be a shot in the arm for everyone else. And…if you’re with me, I think I can try harder, too. U-um, I don’t mean that in a weird way! I-I just want to get stronger.”

“You can just stay weak. I’ll protect you.”

“Huh?”

“Uh, sorry. Slip of the tongue.”

Totsuka had been so adorable right there, I’d just let slip something I shouldn’t have. I mean, he was just so cute! I’d been extremely close to just joining the club right there. I’d been about to raise my hand so fast, you’d have thought it was a race to get pudding instead of school lunch.

But no matter how cute he was, there were some things I just couldn’t agree to.

“Sorry. I can’t.”

I knew my personality quite well. I didn’t really see the point of going to a club every day, and running around early in the morning was a little unfathomable to me. The only people who get up that early are those old geezers in the park doing tai chi. My motto was I canna keep this up! like some kind of Korosuke imitation, so I’d definitely quit the club. I mean, I quit my first part-time job after three days.

If I joined the tennis club, I’d only be guaranteeing Totsuka’s disappointment.

“Oh…,” he droned, sounding sincerely let down.

I searched for the right words. “Well, how about this? I’ll think about a way to help you out.” Not like I can do anything, though.

“Thanks. I feel a bit better just having talked to you about it.” He smiled at me, but I could tell he was merely trying to console himself. 

If he was just trying to make himself feel better, though, I thought that was okay.

“No.”

That was the first thing out of Yukinoshita’s mouth.

“No? Hey, come on–”

“No means no.” Her second refusal was even colder.

This had all started because I’d mentioned Totsuka’s problem to Yukinoshita. I’d been planning to steer the conversation in a convenient direction, smoothly quit the Service Club, and then put on a show of joining the tennis club before slowly fading out, but she’d cut that option clean off for me.

“I think Totsuka has the right idea about me joining the tennis club, though. Basically, we just have to give the club members a little jolt. I mean, if they get the bomb dropped on them that there’s a new member, that’ll mix things up, right?”

“Do you think you are capable of operating in a group? A creature such as yourself would never be accepted, am I wrong?”

“Ngh…”

She was right; I totally couldn’t. It was true that I’d probably quit, but also, just seeing the others having fun and chilling together as a club might force me to whack them with a racket.

Yukinoshita laughed in a way that was a lot like a sigh. “You have absolutely no understanding of group psychology, do you? You’re a master loner.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you.”

She ignored me completely and continued speaking. “Though they may band together against you as a common enemy, they’d only expend the necessary effort to get rid of you, making no effort to improve themselves, so it wouldn’t solve anything. Source: me.”

“I see… Huh? Source?”

“Yes. In middle school, I returned from abroad to Japan. Of course, I was transferring in, and all the girls in the class, or rather, the whole school, were desperate to eliminate me. Not a single one of them attempted to improve themselves in order to best me. Those imbeciles…,” she reflected, and as she spoke, something like black fire swelled at her back.

Oh, crap, I might have stepped on a land mine.

“W-well, you know. When a cute girl like you shows up, it’s inevitable that sort of thing would happen.”

She paused. “Y-yes, well, I suppose. It’s true that I am far more attractive than any of them, and I’m not so mentally weak on that front to put myself down. Therefore, you could say that it was a foregone conclusion, in a way. But still, Yamashita and Shimamura were quite cute, you know? It seems they were fairly popular with boys, too. But that’s just appearance. When it came to academics, sports, arts, etiquette, and even spiritually, they most certainly never approached someone of my caliber. If you just can’t beat someone no matter how hard you try, it’s no surprise you would try to hold them back and drag them down.”

Yukinoshita had appeared to be at a loss for words for a moment, but soon she was right back to tooting her own horn. Her praise wasn’t just fluid. It rushed along like the bright blue crashing waves of Niagara Falls.

I was impressed she’d managed to say all that without faltering once. Perhaps this was her own way of hiding her shyness? So there was a speck of cuteness within her after all. Maybe all that talking was what had made her face so red.

“Can you do me a favor and not say anything weird? You’re giving me unpleasant chills.”

“It’s a relief to hear you say that. Yeah, you’re not cute after all.”

Actually, Totsuka was way cuter than any of the girls I knew. What the hell was with that? Oh yeah. We were supposed to be talking about Totsuka.

“Is there nothing we can do to help the tennis club get better?” I asked.

Yukinoshita’s eyes widened as she stared at me. “This is rare. When did you start worrying about other people?”

“Well, you know. This is the first time anyone’s ever asked me for help, so it just kind of happened.” Having someone rely on you was a very pleasing thing indeed. Plus, Totsuka was so cute, so I just… A relaxed smile slipped onto my face.

“I’ve been consulted on romantic matters quite often, though,” Yukinoshita said, as if to counter me. She was puffing out her chest and speaking as if it was a point of pride, but her expression slowly darkened. “That said, girls essentially tell you about their crushes for the sake of deterrence.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“If you tell people you like someone, everyone else has to be careful around them, right? It’s like you’re emphasizing your ownership of them. Once you know she likes him, if you lay a hand on him, you’ll be treated like a home-wrecker and excluded from the girls’ clique, and then even if he says he likes you, he’ll just take off after. Why do I have to take all that abuse from them?”

Yet again, black flames began rising from her body. I’d expected having girls talk to you about their crushes was a super-bittersweet thing, but this was just plain bitter. Why must she crush the pure dreams of boys like that? Is this fun for her?

Yukinoshita suddenly smiled in mild self-deprecation, as if to wash away her unsavory memories of the past. “What I’m saying is that it’s not necessarily a good idea to listen to anyone and everyone about every little problem. You know that old saying: ‘A lion throws its own young off a cliff and kills it.’”

“He’s not supposed to kill it!” The correct version was A lion hunts its child with all its might.

“What would you do?”

“Me?” Yukinoshita blinked her big eyes with a pensive look that said, Oh, yes. “I suppose I’d make them all run until they died, do practice swings until they died, and play tennis until they died.” She was smiling a little as she said that. So scary.

While I was getting rather seriously freaked out, the door to the clubroom opened with a rattle.

“Yahallo!” The stupid-sounding greeting reached my ears. Carefree compared to her counterpart, Yuigahama was brimming with birdbrained, bimbo smiles, as usual, looking as if she had not a worry in the world. But behind her stood someone who looked timid and serious. 

His eyes were downcast, as if he lacked confidence. His fingers weakly grasped the hem of Yuigahama’s blazer, and his skin was translucently white. He was such an ephemeral existence, it seemed as though he would disappear like a fleeting dream if the light shone on him.

“Oh…Hikigaya!” Instantly, the color returned to his clear skin, and he smiled like a flower bursting into bloom. When he smiled, I finally realized who he was. Why had he looked so glum?

“Totsuka, huh.”

He stepped delicately toward me, squeezing the cuff of my sleeve instead now. Hey, hey, you’re not allowed to do that! But he’s a guy, though…

“Hikigaya, what’re you doing here?”

“Well, this is my club… What are you doing here?”

“Today I brought someone with a request, heh-heh,” Yuigahama announced proudly, pointlessly puffing out her chest. I’m not asking you. I wanted to hear the answer from Totsuka’s cute lips…

“Well, like, listen! I’m a member of the Service Club, too, aren’t I? So I thought I’d do my job for once. And Sai-chan seemed to have a problem, so that’s why I brought him here.”

“Yuigahama.”

“Yukinon, you don’t have to thank me or anything at all. I just did my duty as a club member.”

“Yuigahama, you’re not actually a member, though.”

“I’m not?!”

She’s not?! That was a surprise. I had thought for sure this was a thing where she just gradually ended up being in the club.

“No. I haven’t gotten an application form from you or consent from our supervisor, so you’re not a member.”

Yukinoshita was pointlessly strict about these rules.

“I’ll fill one out! I can fill out as many applications as you want! Lemme join you!” With tear-filled eyes, Yuigahama began to write application form on a sheet of loose-leaf paper in rounded, childish, phonetic hiragana characters. She could at least have written it in kanji…

“So, Totsuka, was it? What did you need?” Ignoring Yuigahama scribbling away on her application form, Yukinoshita turned to Totsuka.

Pierced by her cold gaze, Totsuka twitched for a moment. “U-um…you can help me…get better…at tennis, right?” At first, he’d been looking at Yukinoshita, but as he got toward the end of his sentence, Totsuka’s gaze shifted over to me. He was shorter than me, so he was looking up at me, seeing how I’d react.

Hey, don’t look at me like that… You’ll get me all worked up. Stop giving me that look.

Then, though it likely wasn’t her intention to save me, Yukinoshita replied in my place. “I don’t know how Yuigahama explained it to you, but the Service Club is not your personal genie. We only provide a little assistance and encourage your independence. Whether you improve or not is up to you.”

“Oh… I see…” Discouraged, Totsuka’s shoulders drooped.

Yuigahama had probably promised all sorts of things. I glared at her. She was muttering, “My seal, my seal,” as she rummaged around in her bag for the personal stamp she would sign the form with. She noticed my attention and lifted her head. 

“Huh? What?”

“Don’t give me that. Your irresponsible remarks have crushed this boy’s slim hopes to smithereens.” Yukinoshita attacked her mercilessly, but Yuigahama just tilted her head.

“Hmm? Hmm? But, like, you and Hikki can figure something out, right?” Yuigahama asked bluntly, a completely blank expression on her face. Depending on how you interpreted that remark, it could have meant something disparaging, like So you can’t do it?

Unfortunately, there was someone in that very room who would take it that way. “Hmph. You’ve become a lot more forthright these days, Yuigahama. Never mind that boy… I can’t believe you would try to test me.” Yukinoshita smirked. Agh, Yuigahama had flipped that weird switch in Yukinoshita’s brain. Yukino Yukinoshita would accept any challenge head-on and beat it down with all she had. She’d beat you down even if you didn’t challenge her. She was the kind of person who would even oppress me, and I never resist. I’m like Gandhi. “Fine. Totsuka, I accept your request. You want me to improve your abilities in tennis, is that correct?”

“Y-yes, that’s right. I-if I get better, everyone else will try harder, too, I think,” Totsuka replied from behind my back. Perhaps he was overwhelmed by how widely Yukinoshita’s eyes flared. He gently peeked out from behind my shoulder. His expression was fearful and uneasy. He was just like a trembling wild rabbit, which made me want to put him in a bunny girl costume.

Well, I think an ice queen like this one declaring she’s going to help you would scare most people. At this rate, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had said, I’ll make you stronger, but in exchange for your life!

Are you some kind of witch or what?

I took a step forward in an attempt to protect Totsuka and ease his anxiety. When I drew near him, I smelled shampoo and deodorant intermingled: the indescribable scent of a high school girl. What kind of shampoo is he using? “Well, I don’t mind helping, but what are we going to do?”

“I just told you, didn’t I? Don’t you remember? If you have no confidence in your memory, I suggest you take notes.”

“Hey, you can’t mean you were serious…,” I said, remembering her something something until you die remarks, and Yukinoshita smiled as if to say, Oh, you’re so insightful. That smile was scaring me…

Totsuka’s white skin went even paler, and he began trembling like a leaf. “A-am I going to die?”

“It’s okay. I’ll protect you,” I said, patting him on the shoulder.

Totsuka’s cheeks flushed, and he gazed at me feverishly. “Hikigaya…do you really mean that?”

“Oh, sorry. I just wanted to try saying that.” It was one of the top three lines I’d wanted to try saying once, as a man. By the way, number one is You go on ahead. Leave this to me. There was no way I’d ever protect Yukinoshita from anything, though, or protect anyone at all, for that matter. But, well, now that I’d tossed off that remark, if I didn’t say something to wiggle my way out of that statement, he’d leave still feeling uneasy.

Totsuka let out a short sigh and pouted his lips. “I don’t understand you sometimes, Hikigaya…but…”

“Hmm, you have tennis club practice after school, right, Totsuka?” Yukinoshita cut him off. “Then let’s do some special training during lunch. Are you fine with meeting at the court?” She briskly decided the arrangements for the next day.

“Roger!” Yuigahama replied as she finally finished writing out her application form. Totsuka nodded, too. And that meant…

“You mean…me, too?”

“Of course. You don’t have any plans during lunch, anyway, now, do you?”

Indeed I did not.

The training from hell was scheduled to begin at lunch hour the next day.

I wondered why I was going along with them. At the end of the day, all this community known as the Service Club did was scrape together a bunch of weaklings, and all these weaklings were doing was doze off inside that little walled garden. The teacher had just gathered together this group of losers and given them a temporary comfortable shelter. And how was that any different from the classic teen experience that I hated so much?

Maybe that was the very purpose for which Ms. Hiratsuka had created this sanatorium for excising the sources of our respective sicknesses. But if what ailed us was something that could be wiped away through such a shoddy effort, none of us would have been sick in the first place.

That was how it was for Yukinoshita.

I didn’t know what her deal was, but I didn’t think it was something that could be healed here. And even if my wounds could have been mended, the only way that could have happened was if Totsuka were a girl. If, through this tennis episode, something that could be called a romantic comedy were born between Totsuka and me, then it might have been different.

As far as I could tell, the cutest one there was Saika Totsuka. He had an open personality, and above all, he was nice to me. If I took the time to nurture this love, there was a possibility I might grow some humanity.

But, like…he was a boy. God was such a jerk.

Though I was in the midst of a mild bout of despair, I still took the trouble to change into my gym sweats and head out to the tennis court. I would wager it all on the tiny hope that Totsuka might actually be a girl!

The gym uniform at my school was an unfortunate shade of pale neon blue, and it stood out dramatically. The color was uncool to the point of being sublime, and all the students hated it, so no one wore it of their own volition outside of gym class or club time. Everyone was in their regular uniforms at lunch, and I was the only one sticking out like a sore thumb in my gym clothes. My conspicuousness led to my capture by a certain annoying individual.

“Ha! Ha-ha-ha-Hachiman!”

“Don’t segue from a bellowing laugh into my name.”

Even in a school as large as Soubu High, there was only one person here who would laugh so creepily: Zaimokuza. He folded his arms and blocked my path.

“How unexpected to encounter you in a place like this! I was just thinking about going over to hand you my newly conceived plot. Come and feast your eyes upon it!”

“Oh, uh, sorry. I’m a little busy right now.” I slipped past him and casually ignored the proffered bundle of papers.

But Zaimokuza kindly grabbed my shoulder. “Give me not such sad lies. There’s no way you’d have any plans.”

“I’m not lying. And I don’t want to hear that from you!” Why was everyone saying the same thing? Did I look like I had that much free time on my hands? Well, I guess I actually did have a lot of free time on my hands.

“Heh. I understand, Hachiman. You just wanted to look cool, so you told a little white lie, huh? And then, in order to prevent that lie from being exposed, you spun further lies. And then you will desperately do so again. It’s a tragic infinite spiral, but you know, at the other end of that spiral is emptiness. To be specific, human relationships are emptiness.

But there is yet time to turn back! What? You saved me! This time, ’tis my turn to save you!” Zaimokuza delivered this line, which was number two on my list of the things I wanted to try saying once, as a man. He was giving a thumbs-up and had an irritating, contrived look on his face.

“I really do have plans…” I could actually feel the muscles in my face spasm in irritation as I attempted to convince Zaimokuza. But just then…

“Hikigaya!” I heard that cheerful soprano voice, and Totsuka leaped into my arms. “You came at just the right time. Let’s go together?”

“Y-yeah…”

There was a racket case slung over his left shoulder, and his right hand was, for some reason, grasping my left. Why?

“H-Hachiman… Who is that person…?” Zaimokuza looked back and forth between Totsuka and me in astonishment. Gradually, his expression changed, transforming into something I felt I’d seen before. Oh, I knew. Like in Kabuki? With a flourish that almost made me think I’d heard a Kabuki actor cry out and bang his drum, Zaimokuza’s eyes flared open, and he assumed a pose. “Y-you fiend! Have you betrayed me?!”

“Betrayed you? How?”

“Silence! You half-handsome failure of a hot guy! I took pity on you because you were a loner, but now you’ve gotten cocky!”

“That ‘half’ and ‘failed’ part was unnecessary.” The loner part was true, so I couldn’t argue that.

His face distorted in rage, Zaimokuza growled and glared at me. “Unforgivable…”

“Hey, calm down, Zaimokuza. Totsuka isn’t a girl. He’s a guy…probably,” I said, without conviction.

“P-p-p-pullshit! There’s no way such a cute girl could be a boy!” Zaimokuza objected, messing up his words.

“He is cute, but he’s a guy.”

“Hey…calling me cute and stuff…it makes me a little…uncomfortable.” Right beside me, Totsuka’s cheeks went red as he averted his face. “Um, is this…your friend, Hikigaya?”

“Oh, I dunno…”

“Hmph. Someone like you could never be my eternal rival.” Zaimokuza was in full sulk mode. Man, what a pain in the ass.

But I could get where he was coming from. It’s only natural that when someone you’ve felt slight sympathy for turns out to be possessed of completely different qualities than those you assumed, you feel a tinge of sadness much like betrayal.

I wondered what could I say at a time like this in order to bring our relationship back to normal. Unfortunately, I was lacking in EXP, so I didn’t know. But I did feel a little bit sad. It was because I felt like maybe he and I had some kind of understanding, and maybe one day we could laugh about it and accept each other or something.

But I guessed that sort of thing was never gonna happen after all. 

A friendship where you’re always trying to be considerate of the other person, always worrying about what they think, always responding to every single text, always seeking their approval and then finally connecting with them, isn’t friendship at all. If that troublesome process was what they called youth, then I didn’t need any of it. Enjoying yourself among some tepid community is basically just stroking your own ego. It’s deceit. The worst sort of evil.

Plus, Zaimokuza was really obnoxious when he got jealous.

I swore I’d prove my righteousness, my own justice, and chose the path of loneliness.

“Let’s go, Totsuka.” I pulled Totsuka’s arm.

But after replying, “Oh…yeah…,” he didn’t move from the spot.

“Zaimokuza, was it?”

Zaimokuza acted a little weird at being addressed, but he nodded.

“If you’re Hikigaya’s friend, maybe…you can be my friend, too? I’d be glad if you would. Because…I don’t have many guy friends,” Totsuka said, smiling shyly.

“Heh… Ngh… Heh…heh-heh-heh. Indeed, Hachiman and I are bosom buddies. No, brothers. No, no, no, I am the master, and he is the servant. Well, if you’re going to be like that, then I suppose I have no choice. I’ll be your…u-um…friend? Then. Or lover, if you wish.”

“Yeah, I don’t think…that’s possible. So let’s be friends.”

“Hmm, I see. Hey, Hachiman, does this mean this person likes me? Am I a babe magnet now? Are chicks finally gonna start digging me now?” Zaimokuza immediately sidled up to me and whispered into my ear.

Yeah, no. Zaimokuza wasn’t my friend after all. Someone who’d immediately change his attitude after discovering he could befriend a pretty girl through me could never be my friend. “Let’s go, Totsuka. If we’re late, Yukinoshita will freak out.”

“Hmm, we cannot have that. Then let us hurry. That lady…is really scary,” Zaimokuza said, following me and Totsuka. Apparently, Zaimokuza was now with us. We were all walking in a line for some reason, so to someone seeing us, we might have seemed rather Dragon Quest–ish… No, he was less Dragon Quest and more like King Bonbii from Momotetsu, I think.

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama were already at the tennis court. Yukinoshita was still in her uniform, and only Yuigahama had changed into her gym clothes. They must have been eating lunch at the court. When they saw us, they quickly packed away their tiny meals.

“Then let’s get started.”

“Th-thank you for doing this.” Totsuka faced Yukinoshita and gave her a little bow.

“First of all, let’s build up that muscle that you are so fatally lacking. In order to comprehensively build your biceps, deltoids, pectorals, abdominals, obliques, dorsals, and femoral muscles, first, do push-ups… For now, just go at it until you’re nearly dead.”

“Whoa, you sound so smart, Yukinon…huh? Nearly dead?”

“Yes. Muscle repairs itself to the degree that you have torn it, but every time it repairs itself, the fibers bind more strongly, and this is known as overcompensation. In other words, if you do it until the point of near death, you’ll power up all at once.”

“Come on, he’s not a Super Saiyan…”

“Well, he won’t get that muscle immediately, but there is another point to this training: to raise his basal metabolism.”

“Basal metabolism?” Yuigahama asked, tilting her head with a question mark.

You don’t even know that?

Yukinoshita looked somewhat astonished, but perhaps figuring it would be faster to explain than to criticize Yuigahama, she briefly added: “To put it simply, it means to make the body fit for physical activity. When the basal metabolism rises, it becomes easier to burn calories. It increases the efficiency of the transformation of energy.”

Yuigahama nodded. Abruptly, her eyes lit up. “It makes it easier to burn calories…in other words, lose weight?”

“Indeed. It makes it so you can expend even more calories when breathing and digesting, with the result that you get skinnier just by being alive.”

At Yukinoshita’s words, the sparkle in Yuigahama’s eyes grew. For some reason, she was bubbling with even more vigor than Totsuka.

Then, as though Yuigahama’s enthusiasm had set him off, Totsuka clenched his fist as well. “Th-then I guess I’ll just try doing it.”

“I-I’ll do it with you!” Totsuka and Yuigahama got into plank position and slowly began doing pushups.

“Ngh……gh! Ahhh, phew!”

“Ugh…ngh! Ngah! Phew, phew, nnnngh!” Stifled panting leaked from both of them. Distorting their faces in anguish, they broke a light sweat, and their cheeks flushed.

Totsuka’s arms were apparently pretty sore, because occasionally, he would shoot me a pleading glance. Gazing at him leisurely from above made me feel, um…odd.

When Yuigahama bent her arms, shining skin peeked out from the collar of her gym clothes. Oh no. I couldn’t look straight at that. My heart rate had been up pretty high for a while, and there was a good chance it was irregular now.

“Hachiman… Why is it…that I feel so at peace right now…?”

“What a coincidence. I feel the same way.” I leered down at the occasional flashes of skin below us until a voice came at me like ice water down my back.

“Why don’t you two shake off those appetites of the flesh by doing some exercises?” When I turned, Yukinoshita was giving me a look of utter contempt. She said I had appetites of the flesh. She noticed?!

“H-hmph. A warrior never shirks his training. Well then, I shall join you!”

“Y-yeah. Not getting enough exercise is a scary thing. There’s, like, diabetes and gout and u-uh…cirrhosis of the liver and stuff!” We flung ourselves on the ground with incredible speed and began our push-ups.

Yukinoshita circled around deliberately to stand in front of us. “Seeing you like that, it looks rather like a new kind of groveling,” she said, and she chuckled.

What did you say, you bastard? You’ll awaken anger within even my most peaceful of hearts. Oh, forget it. The only thing that’s going to awaken within me is a kink for push-ups.

What on earth are we doing?

I’m sure you know the saying, “If you pile up enough dust, it’ll make a mountain.” Or even “Two heads are better than one.” Basically, I’m talking about the idea that people become stronger when they gather together. But we were just gathering a bunch of failures to enact more fail.

In the end, we were made to do push-ups for the whole lunch hour, and I writhed around in bed late that night in muscle pain.