Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 4 - Chapter 6

6

Unfortunately, Hachiman Hikigaya did not bring a swimsuit.

I had a dream, a lovely dream.

Small, soft hands were gently rocking my body. Through them, I could feel the faint body heat of someone who had only just woken up themselves. A sweet voice called my name with some concern. It was terribly pleasant. But I knew it was all in my head. My sister doesn’t usually come to wake me up, and my parents invariably leave the house while I’m still asleep. I am always awoken from my dreams by the inhuman, unforgiving alarm of my cell phone. Thus both my body and mind judged this to be a dream.

“Hachiman,” the voice said. “It’s morning. You have to get up…” The words repeated a few times as my body rocked, and finally, I opened my eyelids. The morning light was dazzling, and under the brilliant rays was Totsuka, smiling awkwardly. “You finally woke up,” he said. “Good morning, Hachiman.”

“……Hey,” I replied, but the sight before me was so divorced from reality, my mind was totally blank. White sunlight was flowing in through the window, and outside, sparrows or skylarks or some unidentified birds were twittering. I saw one tousled, slept-in futon. And then, as I lay on the floor, there was Totsuka at my side.

“Uh…”

No way… Is this a morning-after scene?! Did I cross over that horizon in the middle of nowhere, that line that should never be crossed?!

While I was busy being lost and confused, Totsuka pulled the blanket off me and began folding it. “If we don’t hurry up, we won’t make it in time for breakfast,” he said.

With this newfound information, I started to process what was going on. Oh yeah, we were camping, weren’t we? I thought we’d suddenly moved in together or something.

I dragged myself into a sitting position and started folding up my futon like Totsuka. “Where are the other guys?” I asked.

“I told Hayama and Tobe to go ahead and leave without us. You just weren’t waking up…” He gave me a stern, reproachful look.

Why do I feel so guilty now…? I’ve never once felt bad about being late for school or late for a job, but this time I feel like I’ve gone off the deep end and I’m about to start shouting nonsense. Geisha! Hara-kiri! Fujiyama! Huh, even geisha has the word gay in it… “Sorry…,” I apologized, sincerely regretting my misdeed.

Totsuka was still pouting, though. “You haven’t been keeping a proper sleep schedule during summer vacation, have you, Hachiman?”

“Y-yeah, well, I guess not.”

“And you’re not exercising at all, are you?”

“Oh yeah. I haven’t really thought about doing anything. It’s too hot.”

“That’s not good for you, you know? You have to get some exer— Oh, I know! Let’s play tennis together sometime!” Totsuka proposed, clearly excited about the idea.

“Oh…yeah, whatever, sometime. Call me whenever.” Reflexively, I provided my default response, the one I use whenever anyone invites me to do stuff. When you’re hanging around the fringes of a group, people will make offers just to be polite. Sort of like, Uh…you wanna come, too? No, seriously, don’t bother. I don’t care. Whenever people say that to me, I have to give them a half-assed reply in the name of courtesy, too. Also, people who say Yeah, whatever, sometime usually don’t get invited out again. There’s a nugget of wisdom for you. Source: me.

But now I was getting flustered, worried that maybe I’d triggered that reaction in Totsuka. I looked at him.

“Okay, then!” he said. “I’ll be sure to call you!” But I was probably in the clear, for once. Totsuka’s cheerful reply set me at ease.

There’s generally no reason to refuse an invitation from a guy. Though it’s another story if it’s Zaimokuza calling, or if you have some kind of plans, of course. But my schedule is practically nonexistent, aside from my time with Komachi. I’ve got so much free time that if there were a Hanging-Out Championship, I’d take the freestyle division, no sweat. I’m rarely invited to hang out, and more important, I never do the inviting. Ever since that time in middle school when I thought about hanging out with this guy Oiso, but when I called him up, he said he had to do some house chores, and then I went to the arcade by myself and saw him going into the karaoke parlor next door with Ninomiya, I’ve tried not to ask anyone to hang out. It’s just because, like, I’d feel bad about forcing them into rejecting me. I’m just trying to be nice, you know?

“Okay, let’s go get some breakfast,” I said.

“Yeah. But, u-um… I—I don’t know your e-mail address, Hachiman…”

Oh yeah. I usually treat my phone like an alarm clock / time-killing device, so I’d totally forgotten that Totsuka and I still hadn’t exchanged contact info. So his address will finally be within my grasp… A flood of emotions surged through me as I took out my phone and immediately readied myself to input his information.

“Huh?! Hachiman, why are you crying?”

“Oh, my eyes are just watering ’cause I yawned.” I was so moved, I had shed a few tears.

“I suppose you did just wake up,” he said. “Okay, then what’s your e-mail?”

“Here.” I showed it to him.

“Um…” Totsuka wasn’t very good with electronics, and he slowly checked both phones and pecked away, character by character. As he typed, he’d occasionally make quiet comments to himself, like “Wait, no. Huh? This one?” It was a little concerning. If he input my address wrong and my messages ended up not reaching him, the overwhelming regret could send me into convulsions. “Okay, done…I think. I’ll try e-mailing you.” Slowly, he began hunt-and-pecking away at an e-mail. At one point, he paused to tilt his head in thought. Finally, he nodded. “I sent it.”

“Oh, thanks.” A few seconds later, my phone rang. I caught a Totsuka! (Pi-Pikachu!)

Phew, that’s a relief. Now I just have to input his info into my phone, I thought, opening up my inbox. That was when I saw it.

Subject: It’s Saika~!

Body: Good morning, Hachiman! This is my first time e-mailing you. I hope we’ll be sending each other lots more!

That string of characters was just too much for my heart to take. I spontaneously burst into a violent coughing fit.

“Hachiman?! Wh-what’s wrong?! Are you okay?” Totsuka panicked and immediately started rubbing my back.

Ack. His hand is so small, but it feels so warm and soft… “I-I’m okay…”

“All right, then…,” he replied.

I finally stood up straight again, but Totsuka shot me a questioning look. I put on a cheerful smile in an attempt to evade it. “Come on. We really should go get breakfast.”

“Oh, of course.”

I hurried Totsuka along, prodding his back as we walked. That tilted head just a moment ago had been him considering what to write. It was a no-frills message, but it was also dripping with cute. Totsuka’s got some serious literary talent. Someone give the guy an award.

Anyway, I’d have to be sure to save his e-mail address. And also to set a special ringtone for him and make a special Totsuka folder. And just in case, I’d back it all up on my PC, too.

The elementary school kids had already left the lodge. The only ones there were the usual suspects, plus Miss Hiratsuka.

“Good morning,” I greeted her.

“Yeah, morning,” she replied, newspaper rustling. Somehow, this felt very old-fashioned. Nostalgia hit me like a truck.

Totsuka and I sat down together in a pair of open seats. Yuigahama was opposite us.

“Oh, morning, Hikki,” she greeted me with the standard AM salutation. Apparently, yahallo was not for morning-time use. She probably started using it after noon.

“’Sup,” I replied.

Beside Yuigahama was Yukinoshita, and beside her was Komachi. “Morning!” my sister chirped, but even as she spoke, she was scrambling to her feet to scuttle off somewhere.

Yukinoshita and Totsuka greeted each other, and then Yukinoshita turned her gaze to me. “Good morning. So you did wake up after all…”

“Hey, don’t look so disappointed about it. Good morning.” My conscientious greetings these days are indicative of my fine character, I feel.

I heard the tump of a tray being set down on the table in front of me. “Here ya go!” said Komachi. “Sorry for the wait. And one for you, too, Totsuka!” She had gone to get breakfast for me.

“Thank youuu.  ” I thanked her in a singsong tone, like a part-timer at McDonald’s. Let me explain. Whenever the burger patties are done, the timer on the grill goes off, like McDooonald’s, McDooonald’s, and when the fries are ready to come out of the deep fryer, the timer sounds like it’s singing friiiies, friiies. So when the clerk tells the customer “Thank you” at the end of a transaction, they say it in the same singsong tone. That explanation was totally unnecessary.

“Th-thanks… I guess I’ll eat, then,” said Totsuka.

I put my hands together. I wasn’t doing any alchemy or anything; it’s just the polite thing to do before a meal. “Let’s eat.”

The breakfast before us was classic home cooking. White rice, miso soup, grilled fish and salad, omelettes, natto, flavored nori seaweed, pickled vegetables, and an orange for dessert. Imagine standard hotel fare, basically. As we ate in silence, I immediately ran short on the rice. By my calculations, the mere presence of natto and flavored nori entailed at least two bowls of rice for me. At a Japanese-style inn, they’d even serve you a raw egg, too, and then it’s a real serious issue.

Noticing that my bowl was near empty, Komachi spoke up. “You want more rice, Bro?”

“Please.” I held it out to her.

For some reason, Yuigahama was the one to take it. “I-I’ll get it for you!” I guess she was feeling chipper for some reason. She hummed as she began digging up a large serving for me from the wooden serving bowl. “Here!” she said. The overflowing helping she handed me was like something out of Manga Japanese Folk Tales.

Not that I minded. I’d been intending to have a third bowl anyway, so I wasn’t going to complain.

“Thanks…,” I said, lifting the bowl high in the air in thanks and straining my wrists in the process. And then I went back to eating.

Free food sure does taste good.

We all had a proper breakfast, and when we were done, we sipped some tea. Totsuka took a bit longer than the rest of us, finally putting his hands together to say thanks and reaching out for his tea. The conversation wandered into a discussion of the trip so far and our plans for that day.

That was when Miss Hiratsuka began to fold up her newspaper. “Now, then,” she said. “It seems you’re done eating, so I’ll let you in on the schedule for today.” She took a sip of tea and then continued. “The kids have the entire day to spend as they please. In the evening, there are plans for a spooky-forest trek and a campfire afterward. I’m going to ask you to set those up.”

“Huh. A campfire, huh?” I repeated the English word she’d used.

“Oh! The thing you dance around when you do folk dances!” Yuigahama’s face had scrunched up at the unfamiliar vocabulary, but then her face lit up with recognition as she whipped out another English term.

Once Komachi heard that, the light bulb went on over her head, too. “Ohhh! Are they gonna make a circle and hold hands and go ‘Bentora bentora’?” she asked.

“Did you mean to say ‘Oklahoma Mixer’? …That’s not even close…,” Yukinoshita said, somewhere between astonished and exasperated.

Bentora bentora is like that thing, right? You get together in the park late at night and chant those words to communicate with aliens.

“It’s not much different when the people you’re dancing with already treat you like an alien, though,” I said.

“Hachiman, that’s a terrible thing to say…,” Totsuka admonished me.

But I didn’t think it was. I get to have my say, too! “No, really, that’s what they think… The first girl I danced with was fine. But at around the fourth one, the girl was like, ‘We don’t actually have to hold hands, right?’ and all the girls after that copied her. Then it was just the Air Oklahoma Mixer…”

“Hikigaya, your eyes are more rotten than ever,” said Miss Hiratsuka. “…Well, they’ll make you a great monster, though. You can help haunt the forest.”

“So that means we’re going to be doing the scaring?” I asked. Well, these things are standard for school camping trips. Still, being in the forest at night is distinctly more frightening than any jump scares.

“Yep. But they’ve already made up the course, and I’ve got a set of monster costumes for all of you, so all you kids need to do is follow instructions and get it over with. All right. I’ll show you what you’ll be doing. Let’s go.” Miss Hiratsuka stood up, and we cleaned up our dishes and followed after her.

We picked up Hayama’s group on our way there and returned to the big plaza. The place was like a sports arena surrounded by forest. By one edge, there was something that looked like a toolshed.

Miss Hiratsuka explained to the boys what their tasks would be, and we began setting up the campfire. Totsuka and Tobe split the firewood and carried it over. Hayama piled it up, and I arranged it into a square.

“Quietly stacking up wood like this all by myself feels like Jenga,” I said.

“Huh? You can play Jenga alone?” Hayama asked, in all sincerity.

What, you can’t? I thought for sure Jenga was in the same category as card towers…

As for the girls, they were drawing a big white circle with the campfire in the center. I guess that line was for the folk dance.

We chopped the wood, piled it, and stacked it neatly. It wasn’t long before we were done. The hard work was rough going, though, under the blazing sun. I wiped sweat off my dripping forehead. “…It’s so hot,” I moaned.

“Seriously…,” Hayama agreed. He sounded like he wanted this to be over, too.

“Good work.” Miss Hiratsuka, come to see how our work was progressing, held out two cans of juice. When I gratefully accepted one, she said, “The others are done, too. You’re free to do as you please until it’s time to get ready for the haunted trek this evening.”

Everyone else had most likely been liberated after they completed their tasks, since only Hayama and I remained in the plaza. But now we were done, too. For the moment, I was a free man. As we started back the way we had come, I considered what I should do next.

“I’m going back to our room for now,” said Hayama. “What about you, Hikitani?”

“Oh, me too—,” I began to say, but suddenly a thought occurred to me. If I headed straight back, I’d have to walk there together with Hayama. It wasn’t a big deal, but I was mildly averse to the idea.

To draw an analogy, it’s like when you’re on the way back from a class meeting, and you end up leaving in the same direction as someone you’re not really friends with, and then you have to make awkward conversation. What can you do to avoid such incidents? There is only one answer. “Oh, I’m gonna drop by somewhere else first.” Frankly, there’s no reason to be stopping by anywhere; it’s just a little white lie that you can use to avoid walking home with someone. Some people might fail to take a hint and be like, Huh? Where are you going? I’ll come with! But well-mannered people won’t butt in on your business unnecessarily. I think Hayama is one of those.

“All right. Well, I’m off, then,” he said, raising a hand, and then went on back without me.

I gave him a noncommittal reply and saw him off.

Okay, then. What to do now…? If I just headed back to our room, then I’d run into Hayama, thus nullifying the point of splitting up with him in the first place. The correct thing to do would be to go kill time somewhere and then head back.

I mulled over my options as I meandered along the path wherever my whims took me. That’s when I heard a trickling, babbling brook. Come to think of it, I have gotten all sweaty… The water in the area was clean, and there were no human habitations upstream. It was probably just fine for washing my face. I headed toward the sound, and the path eventually led me to a tiny trickle flowing along. It was shallow, small, and just about the size of an irrigation trench. I guess you’d call that a branch. So that meant if I were to follow this, I should come out at a slightly bigger flow of water. It would probably be the perfect spot to rinse off. As I walked, the dense foliage around me gradually began thinning out.

The rushing water got louder, and I emerged at a spot that was markedly more open. It was the river beach.

“Huh. This is nice.” The remark just came out on its own. I’m good at talking to myself.

The river was about two meters wide, no more than thigh deep, and the current was calm—just the right place to splash some water on myself. I was gazing at the sparkling surface as I proceeded along the river for a while, when, out of the quiet forest, I heard the sound of feminine shrieks and cries. Sounded like someone was having fun.

“It’s so cold!” It was Yuigahama’s voice.

“It feels great, huh?” Komachi’s voice followed. When I looked toward the voices, I saw the two of them splashing around in the river. Even from a distance, I could tell they were in their swimsuits. What are they doing…?

“Oh, it’s my brother,” said Komachi. “Heeey! Over here, over here!”

“…Huh? Hikki?”

While I was busy wondering if I should turn back, my sister had spotted me.

Now that Komachi was beckoning me over, I was forced to go. Oh…well…I really didn’t have any intention of going, and a gentleman like me can’t just be randomly approaching girls in swimsuits…but now that she’s called me over there, I really have no choice—and oh, right, I have to wash my face, don’t I? Tsk, there’s no helping it. I’ll sprint straight over!

“What’re you guys doing?” I asked. “And why are you in swimsuits?” My pace had been just slow enough that I wasn’t out of breath.

“Wasseroi!” cried Komachi, splashing a huge wave over my head. It ran down my hair and dripped all over me… It was freezing. I had been starting to get excited, but that fizzled out quick. Come on, that’s never happened to me in a bathroom stall…

I glowered at Komachi for a moment, my eyes dull, but she didn’t show the slightest smidgen of regret as she responded nonchalantly to my question. “We got hot from all that work, so we’re going for a swim.”

“We brought swimsuits ’cause Miss Hiratsuka said there’d be a river,” added Yuigahama. “Wait…what’re you doing here, Hikki?” She must have been embarrassed about her swimsuit, as she was using Komachi as a shield.

“Oh, I just came here to wash my face…,” I began.

“More important, though!” Komachi cut in before I could finish. “Look! Look, Bro! I got a new swimsuit!” She did a nonsensical pose, like she was trying to show it off. Her pale-yellow bikini was decorated with a frilly border for a southern, tropical feel. The water sparkled in the light as she animatedly splashed around. Damn, is she a splash star or what? She spent a few moments in a variety of poses and then gave me a hard look. “So? Whaddaya think?”

“Hmm, oh…yeah. You’re the cutest in the world,” I told her.

“Wow, you sure don’t sound enthusiastic,” Komachi whined, discouraged and openly disappointed. She was evidently unsatisfied with my reaction.

But, like, you wear that sort of thing at home, too…

Then Komachi got a twinkle in her eye and reached around behind her. “Then…what about Yui?!” She yanked Yuigahama out from her hiding place and set her front and center.

The move had been so sudden, Yuigahama wasn’t even able to react and staggered toward me. “Hey! Komachi—hyaa!” she squealed.

The first thing that caught my eye was a vivid blue. Yuigahama squirmed with embarrassment, and with each movement, her light skirt fluttered. The bikini was a rich color, quite pretty on her silky skin. Their horsing around earlier had left her wet, and the water-resistant swimsuit sent droplets sliding down her sleek skin. They traced the dainty curves of her face, down her neck, pooling for a minute in the hollow of her collarbone, and then sliding down into her rounded cleavage.

Damn. Frankly, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Somehow I managed to steel myself and tear my eyes away. If I didn’t make a conscious effort to keep my gaze upward, they’d automatically be drawn toward a certain location. So this is what they call the law of boobiversal gravitation, huh…? The resulting force is indeed proportional to the product of those two masses.

“U-um…uh…,” Yuigahama mumbled, blushing as she looked away. But when I didn’t say anything, her eyes flickered toward me in a moment of uncertainty.

I can’t have her asking me what I think of it. Why is this happening to me? Suddenly, I wanted to die. Trying my best not to be creepy, I maintained a calm tone of voice as I picked out the safest reply. “Um, well. It’s nice. It looks good on you.”

“O-oh… Thanks.” Yuigahama smiled shyly.

I couldn’t manage to look directly at her. I suspected that I was also blushing now, so I knelt down by the river and scooped up some water. It was cool, and the clear liquid felt good on my flushed skin. I splashed my face a few times, and that was when a familiar voice caught me by surprise.

“Oh my. You’re groveling to the river?” The remark was cold and intended to provoke.

“Of course not,” I retorted. “The holy land is in that direction. I do my worshipping five times a day…” My head snapped up. That’s when I forgot to breathe for a moment.

Yukino Yukinoshita was, as her name suggested, the embodiment of snow. Her skin was white enough to be transparent, her slender legs formed an elegant contour from her calves to her torso, her waist was surprisingly tight, and her chest was, while modest, emphasized. But my glimpse of her was only momentary, and her body was immediately concealed by a sarong.

That was close! I almost suffocated.

“Don’t you usually call yourself a Buddhist?” she asked.

“Y-yeah…” That’s right, I’m a Buddhist. Which is why I won’t let a petty temptation like this beat me! Don’t underestimate ascetics, man. Still, even Gautama Buddha had kids. What’s the deal with that?

“Oh, you came, too, Hikigaya?” A pat landed on my shoulder, and when I turned around, I saw Miss Hiratsuka with Miura and Ebina behind her. Miss Hiratsuka was clad in a glamorous white bikini that freely exposed her long legs and full breasts. Her toned limbs and shapely belly button was alluring in a fit, healthy way. Or maybe it’d be better to say she had a wild appeal.

“You can do it if you try, can’t you, Miss Hiratsuka?!” I said. “You could even pass for thirtysomething!”

“…I am thirtysomething. Grit your teeth. I’ll splatter your guts!”

“Gah!” An intense blow to my stomach sent me to my knees. Clenching my teeth didn’t do a damn thing. As I moaned and groaned at the dull pain running through my body, Miura and Ebina proceeded right by me.

Miura wore a purple, somewhat fluorescent lamé bikini. It was painfully shiny, but the style was exactly what you’d expect from the queen and close to perfect. She probably put in special effort to achieve that kind of beauty. Her labors supported the confidence in her walk, and her pride made her all the more attractive.

As for Ebina, surprisingly enough, she was wearing a one-piece athletic swimsuit. The functional design of the navy-blue suit complemented her slender body and modestly sized chest. The shoulder straps crossed over her back, highlighting the beauty of her shoulder blades.

As Miura passed by Yukinoshita, she gave a satisfied smirk at the other girl’s chest, chuckling. “Heh. I won…” There was a nearly emotional undertone to her voice.

Yukinoshita’s gave her a quizzical look. “Hmm? At what?” Apparently, she didn’t realize what Miura was smiling about.

I figured it out, though. “O-oh, I see…” This was probably where I should pat her on the shoulder and offer some encouragement, but, um, it’d be a little embarrassing to touch her bare shoulder, and my hands are sweaty. “Well, you know,” I said, “your older sister’s got it, so I think you’ve still got it, genetically speaking.”

“My sister? What does she have to do with this?” Yukinoshita knit her eyebrows together in displeasure.

That was when Komachi cut in, giving a big thumbs-up. “It’s okay, Yukino! A girl’s value is more than that, and everyone has their own unique qualities! I’m here for you, Yukino!”

“O-okay… Thank you…,” said Yukinoshita, confused, but also a little bashful. But once she had calmed down, that seemed to enable her to gradually put two and two together, repeating “Sister, genes, value, unique qualities…” over and over. “……Oh.” She glared at me, her face bright red.

I panicked and looked away. She’s scaring the crap out of me; she’s gonna kill me; I’m gonna die. Also, why am I the one she’s glaring at? Miura’s the one who said it!

“I don’t really care about that at all, really,” Yukinoshita said. “Superficial features of that nature are not what decides victory or defeat, and even if we were going to compete over that, we should really be using relative evaluation, and generally speaking, the objective would be overall balance. So I don’t mind at all, and in fact, the question we should be asking is: Who is the real victor here?” she railed. Her cheeks were a little flushed, probably with anger.

Miss Hiratsuka patted her on the shoulder. “Yukinoshita. It’s not time to give up just yet.”

“Yukinon, you’re really pretty, so don’t let it bother you!” Yuigahama immediately tried to comfort her.

“I just said it doesn’t bother me…” Yukinoshita reacted to their consolation with indifference and repeated “It…doesn’t” under her breath. As she did, her eyes flickered over Miss Hiratsuka’s and Yuigahama’s breasts, and she gave a particularly discreet sigh.

Before things could turn into even more of a pity party for Yukino Yukinoshita, the girls got into the river and began goofing around in the water. Around then was when a few newcomers appeared, late to the party.

“Man, I’m so stoked about this river!” Tobe cried.

“Oh, you came too, Hikitani,” said Hayama.

“Hmm, yeah. Just happened to come by,” I replied.

The pair were in their swim trunks, too. They were like, well, normal swimwear. I looked away, not like I gave a damn, and that’s when I noticed Totsuka behind them.

He hopped up to me. “You didn’t bring swim trunks, Hachiman?”

“T-Totsuka!” He was positively radiant—his skin was so pale, from his dainty toes and ankles and calves to his thighs. He wore a white zip-up short-sleeved hoodie that was a little large on him. The size and the blinding whiteness made him look like he was naked underneath a men’s white dress shirt, which was a problem for me. The sight of such fragile forearms extending from his three-quarter sleeves made my heart feel fragile, too. Wearing clothing over his trunks only made him more captivating. It was like by concealing his body, he highlighted his charms.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Sometimes, blindness to your own allure can be sinful. When Totsuka tilted his head with a puzzled expression in that outfit, he only made my heart beat faster.

“Um, that hoodie…”

“Oh, this?” he said, tugging on the chest of the garment. “I tend to burn easily. I don’t want to catch a chill, either.”

I can’t do it. I can’t look straight at him. “I—I see… Take care not to catch a cold out there in the river.”

“I won’t. Thanks!” he said, dashing off to the water.

When I looked over toward the river, everyone had already begun playing around. The girls were splashing each other and grabbing some dolphin-shaped inflatable tube someone had brought, chattering and squealing and having a grand old time.

The boys were throwing themselves into some kind of special warrior training, like trying to grab fish with their bare hands.

If only I had brought swimwear, too… I wanted to splash Totsuka… All I had was the pair of trunks I had for swimming classes back in middle school. I’d had no plans to go out during the summer, so I hadn’t bought a pair since finishing middle school. Well, no use regretting it now. I had nothing to do, so I decided to retreat into the shade of the trees for the time being. A cool wind blew past me as if invited by the burbling water, and the sunshine filtering through the trees and down onto me felt nice. Normally, a moment like this would be rather boring, but when you’re at my level, you can kill time doing anything.

Like bird-watching, for example. This place looked like a great spot to find some feathered friends. There was a wide variety flying around and twittering. But of course, I don’t know anything about birds, so my venture ended in failure. Man, those things are obnoxious and loud.

Like playing marbles, for example. I started sniping targets with pebbles like a B-Daman. By the third rock, my fingers started to hurt from flicking them, so I stopped. Rocks are too hard, and my spirit is too soft.

Like bug watching, for example. Why are ants always so huge and black in the summer? I get the impression that they’re way more powerful in the heat compared with the rest of the year. Maybe that’s when they’re in season. Well, they’re still sour to eat, regardless. Source: me. Why do elementary school kids eat ants and paints? Setsuko, that’s not a marble! That’s an ant! Not that marbles are for eating, either.

But, like, kids sure are cruel. Playing with ants means stepping on them or pouring water into their nest or painstakingly frying them with a magnifying glass. Playing with potato bugs means rolling them up to use as BBs or burning them with sparklers to turn them white.

I mean, kids are capable of all kinds of cruelty.

I got pretty sick of observing ants, so I leaned back against the tree and zoned out, watching from afar as the others played in the water. Yuigahama and Komachi were actively frolicking around. Miura and Ebina were making loud splashes, too, and enjoying themselves. As for Miss Hiratsuka, she looked more like she was just keeping an eye on the group, but she would still occasionally yell “Take that!” and go on the offensive with a big wave.

Yukinoshita was the only one who didn’t really know how to react to all the people bouncing around her. She just stood there, a little ways away from the rest. Loners don’t understand such silly behavior. That’s the reason they will often be informed that they are wet blankets. It’s not necessarily because they’re too embarrassed to join in. They’re just under assault from so many thoughts, it’s not so simple for them. They think, Maybe I’ll be bothering people, or Maybe that would be a bad idea, or Maybe, if I join in, I’ll ruin everyone else’s fun.

But Yuigahama ignored all of that, going over to splash Yukinoshita. Indignant, Yukinoshita swung around, swiftly slicing the surface of the water. Water flew at Yuigahama like a shuriken, landing a clean hit on her forehead. Yuigahama sputtered, and immediately reinforcements arrived: Komachi, ready to go two-on-one.

Yukinoshita was serious now, and she could deal with both of them at once. Miura smirked and began firing off shots of water like a shower of Continuous Energy Bullets. Even Yukinoshita struggled to keep up with that. That was when Miss Hiratsuka showed up with a water gun to back her up.

Come on, it’s not fair to bring weapons, geez. I guess I wasn’t the only one to think so, as Ebina joined the fray to oppose her with another water gun. Before I knew it, the entire group had assembled to wage a watery war. Well, I hope they all don’t catch cold.

Half nodding off as I watched them, I heard the scraping of footsteps on the path to my side. Turning toward the sound, I saw a familiar-looking girl. It was Rumi Tsurumi.

“Hey,” I called out to her.

She nodded and came over to sit beside me. Neither of us spoke as we watched everyone playing in the river. The silence stretched on for a while, but eventually, as if Rumi had grown tired of waiting, she asked, “Hey. Why are you all alone?”

“I didn’t bring swimwear. What about you?”

“Oh… We were supposed to have free time today. I finished breakfast and went back to our room, but no one was there.”

Wow, nasty… I’ve also experienced something like that before. I’d fall asleep in class, and when I woke up, the classroom would be empty, and I’d think I was in a closed space or something. But it was just that everyone had moved to another classroom, and nobody had woken me up.

It’s more startling than you might expect to suddenly end up alone. You might consider your classmates to be nothing more than background noise, but when they vanish all of a sudden, well, it’s a shock. It’s like if you’re reading the latest volume of a manga you haven’t read in a long time, one that used to have really dense artwork, and now the backgrounds are nothing but big white two-page spreads hitting you in the face. It’s bewildering.

Rumi and I absently gazed at the river for a while. Yuigahama turned in our direction. She whispered something to Yukinoshita, and after a little conversation, the both of them emerged from the river. They went over to a blue tarp that had some towels on it, picked up a couple and dried themselves off, and then walked up to us. Still drying off her damp hair, Yuigahama squatted in front of us. “Um…would you like to play with us, Rumi?”

But Rumi curtly shook her head. What was more, she wouldn’t even meet Yuigahama’s eyes.

“O-oh…” Yuigahama drooped.

“I told you so,” said Yukinoshita.

Well, that was just because refusing is the default response of the loner to an invitation. If you suddenly get invited to do something when you usually never are, it’s best to assume that there’s some hidden motive at play. People will ask you to come out on group dates just to embarrass you and make you the butt of jokes and stuff, you know. The other standard loner response is “If I can make it.” If a loner responds with that one, there’s about an 80 percent chance that they won’t actually go. Source: me.

It looked like Rumi was afraid of Yukinoshita, as she turned back to me. “Hey, Hachiman.”

“You’re calling me by my first name…?” I asked.

“Huh? But that’s your name, right?”

“Well, yes it is, but…” The only one who’s allowed to call me that is Totsuka, though…

“Do you still have friends from elementary school, Hachiman?” asked Rumi.

“No, not really…,” I replied. I hadn’t had any relationships to be estranged from in the first place. “Well, I don’t think you really need any. I doubt most people stay friends with people from elementary school anyway. Just forget about them. Once you graduate, you’ll never see any of them ever again.”

“Th-that’s just you, Hikki!” said Yuigahama.

“I haven’t seen anyone from elementary school since then, either,” Yukinoshita responded immediately.

Yuigahama sighed in resignation and addressed the little girl. “Rumi, these people are just…unique, okay?”

“What’s wrong with being unique?” I said. “In English, you’d say we’re special. It makes us sound like we excel in some way, doesn’t it?”

“Like the word myou in Japanese…” For some reason, Yukinoshita seemed to appreciate my remark. In English, the word special can also mean “the exception to a rule,” so as a loner, calling myself special carries a positive connotation.

Rumi watched our exchange with a dubious look. It seemed she was not yet convinced by my theory.

All right, then I’ll take this argument to the next level. “Yuigahama. How many people from your elementary school class do you still meet with now?” I asked.

Yuigahama put her index finger to her jaw and gazed up at the sky. “Hmm. It depends on how often you mean or, like, why we’re getting together, but…if you mean meeting up purely to hang out, one or two, I guess.”

“By the way,” I continued, “How many people were in your year?”

“There were three classes of thirty kids.”

“So ninety,” I confirmed. “From the information you’ve given us, we can calculate that the percentage of people you’re still friends with five years after elementary school is between three and six percent. Yuigahama is a total kiss-up, and even she can only manage that much.”

“Wait, I wasn’t k-k-ki…” Yuigahama turned beet red.

“Yuigahama, what he said has nothing to do with kissing.” Yukinoshita brought her back to reality.

Ignoring their exchange, I continued. “And most can’t manage to be that saccharine at all. They’re about a quarter that sweet, at best. Like aspartame level. So you divide Yuigahama’s range by four, and, uh…”

“Between zero-point-seventy-five and one-point-five,” Yukinoshita instantly replied as I deliberated over the mental math. “Why don’t you redo elementary school?”

Come on, are you the computer grandma or what? Also, if I were to redo elementary school, I’m pretty damn sure I’d just do the same things all over again, you know. “So if you take the average of those two numbers, it’s about one percent,” I continued. “Five years after completing elementary school, the percentage of friends you’ve kept is one percent. That’s not even statistically significant. So you can round that down. You know the rule, round four down and five up, right? The difference between four and five is only one, but four still always gets rejected. Think of how little number four feels. When you think about poor number four, one is hardly worth your time, so you can just round down and erase it. QED, I’m right.” Flawless logic.

Yukinoshita, however, was softly pressing her temple. “Your proof was founded on jumping from one supposition to another… This is a desecration of mathematics…”

“Even I can tell that was wrong, and I’m in elementary school,” commented Rumi.

“Oh, I s— Huh? Uh, o-of course! That’s not right!” For a moment, I had almost convinced Yuigahama. So close. I’d expect nothing less of the private school humanities type.

Well, the fun arithmetic lesson wasn’t the point anyway. “The numbers don’t matter,” I said. “My point is, it’s just a matter of perspective.”

“Your proof was a pile of nonsense, but your conclusion somehow seems to be correct… How baffling…” Yukinoshita wore a complicated expression, half-exasperated and half-impressed.

“Hmm… I don’t really agree, but maybe thinking to yourself that one percent is enough’ll make you feel better. It is kind of exhausting to try to be friends with everyone.” There was real feeling in Yuigahama’s voice. She turned back to Rumi and gave the girl an encouraging smile. “So if you look at it that way, Rumi…”

Rumi weakly returned the smile, clutching her digital camera. “Yeah…that’s not enough for my mother, though. She’s always asking if I’m getting along with my friends. She got me this and told me to take lots of pictures during the field trip…”

So that was why she bought that. Well, I guess most people would feel like field trips are the kind of events you want to remember for the rest of your life. It wasn’t odd for her mother to get carried away and splurge on a camera.

“I see…,” said Yuigahama, sounding relieved. “Your mother is nice. She’s worried about you.”

But Yukinoshita’s tone was glacial. “Is she? You don’t think it’s just a symbol of her desire for ownership, to exercise her authority and control her daughter?” Like thin ice underfoot, her question stirred up a rush of apprehension.

Yuigahama did not hide her shock. She looked like she had been slapped in the face. “What…? Th-there’s no way that’s true! And…you didn’t have to say it like that.”

“Yukinoshita, it’s, like…practically a mother’s job to get into your business. My mom nags me when I’m not out on a date or something on Christmas, and she comes into my room without asking to clean and organize my bookshelf. Moms wouldn’t be so controlling if they didn’t love you.”

Yes, so when she neatly arranges my porno books on top of my desk, that’s love, too. And the wordless pressure I feel afterward when I sit down in my usual seat for dinner is probably also love. If I don’t make an attempt to believe that, I’d be in a dangerous place, mentally speaking.

Yukinoshita bit her lip hard and looked down at the ground between us and her. “Yes, normally, that is the case.” When she lifted her head, her expression seemed kinder than usual. She turned to Rumi and quietly bowed her head. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. That was insensitive of me to say.” It was a very sudden apology.

“Oh, it’s okay…,” Rumi replied, confused. “It sounded sort of complicated, and I didn’t really get what you were saying anyway.”

This had to be the first time I’ve ever seen Yukinoshita give a proper apology. Yuigahama was in wide-eyed shock herself. All at once, we fell completely quiet. Rumi was probably feeling awkward.

“Well, uh, how about this,” I suggested. “Do you wanna take a picture of me, then? They’re superrare items. Usually, this costs a microtransaction fee.”

“No.” Rumi refused instantly, her face serious.

I drooped a little. “…Oh.”

But I was surprised when her serious look morphed into a broad grin. “When I’m in high school, maybe things will be different, and maybe what you just said will feel less creepy…,” she said.

“At the very least, if you plan to stay as you are, nothing will change.” Whoa there, Yukinoshita, dear. Even after an apology, she’s not holding back.

“But your situation changes often enough,” I said. “Until then, there’s no need to force yourself to go along with the rest of them.”

“But Rumi is having a hard time right now,” Yuigahama said, giving the girl in question a look of concern. “So we have to do something…”

Rumi looked uncomfortable. “A hard time? More like…it just sort of sucks. I feel pathetic. When everyone ignores me, it’s like I’m below them.”

“Oh?” replied Yuigahama.

“It sucks. But there’s nothing I can do about it now,” said Rumi.

“Why not?” Yukinoshita asked.

Rumi seemed to be struggling, but she managed to put it properly into words. “They…abandoned me. I can’t be friends with them anymore. Even if things went back to how they were before, this could happen again at any time. And if it’s just going to be the same thing all over again, I think maybe it’s best to end it now. I hate feeling like this, but…”

Oh, I get it. She’d already turned her back…on herself, and on everyone else. The whole idea that if you change yourself, the world will change—it’s just not true. Your preexisting reputation and preexisting relationships don’t flip from negative to positive just like that. People don’t evaluate you based on additive or subtractive formulas. All they see is the picture painted by their own judgments and prejudices, not the way things actually are. They just see what they want to see. If some low-caste creep puts his all into something, people will giggle and be like, Whoa, what a try-hard lo-o-o-ser, and it’s over. If you’re not careful about how you draw attention to yourself, it’ll just give them more to attack you with. If you’re associated with a fairly complete and mature community, things are different, but when it comes to middle school at least, that environment is going to be there no matter what.

People want normies to act like normies. Loners are obligated to be loners, and nerds are coerced into acting like nerds. A high-caste person showing understanding to someone below them is seen as generous and refined, but the reverse isn’t allowed.

Going along with the whole idea of the world doesn’t change, but you can change yourself is an act of conformity, submission, acknowledgment of defeat; it’s subordination of the self to the crappy, stinking, callous, and cruel world. It’s nothing more than a big lie, self-deception swathed in lovely words.

An emotion bubbled up from deep in my heart. It felt like anger. “It sucks to feel pathetic?”

“…Yeah.” Like she was holding back a sob, Rumi nodded. She looked frustrated, like she was ready to cry at any moment.

“…I hope that spooky-forest trek will be fun,” I told her and then walked away. I had made up my mind.

A question had welled up within me, and I answered it myself.

Q: The world doesn’t change. You can change yourself. Now then, how will you change?

A: You become the god of the new world.