Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Come wa Machigatte Iru - Volume 8 - Chapter 4

4

Quietly, Yukino Yukinoshita resolves herself.

I was awoken by a stabbing chill.

“…Cold.”

When I squirmed away from the sofa, a blanket slid off me.

It seemed I’d fallen asleep there the night before. I did remember my mom griping at me—If you fall asleep there, you’ll catch a cold, or something like that. However, her admonition had been in vain, as I’d apparently fallen right back asleep. Since I vaguely remembered this exchange, I must have said something in response, but I guess in the end, I’d fallen asleep on the sofa. My companion Kamakura had disappeared at some point, too. He must have been sleeping somewhere warmer.

Creaking with stiffness in my neck, shoulders, and back, I got up and spotted breakfast ready on the table.

Munching on the food as I looked around the house, I found my parents had already left, and Komachi had gone to school, too, leaving me as the straggler. The takeaway donuts I’d left on the table had decreased in number by a few, meaning someone had eaten some.

As I changed into my school uniform, the chill in the air pierced my body. It was getting stronger every day. Maybe I really have caught a cold…or did I not get enough sleep because I slept in a funny position?

I had a bit of a headache, too. Do we have any painkillers around? I fished through the cabinet, found what I’d been looking for, and took it.

Nwhooaaaaa! This medishine is shoo gooood!

Phew, you’ve gotta do that whenever you take medicine, really.

I left the house, repeating “It’s cold, it’s so freaking cold” like I was muttering in delirium or something, pedaling my bike to school.

The day before had been the first day of school after the field trip, so there had still been this kind of giddy atmosphere, but now that school was back to normal, that feeling had vanished somewhere far away.

Before me was the same familiar scenery of nearly two years now: the school gates, parking lot, and entrance. But I didn’t feel attached to any of it, strangely.

Approaching the entrance, I ran into Yuigahama.

“Ah… M-morning.”

“Uh-huh.” We exchanged a brief greeting and headed to the classroom. Her footsteps following me from behind were more reserved than usual.

I heard a sigh slip out of her. It was slightly choked, as if something were caught in the back of her throat. I made every effort to ignore it and continue on down the hallway.

As we approached the stairs, the crowd thinned out somewhat. As if she’d been waiting for this moment, Yuigahama trotted up the stairs two at a time to line up beside me. “T-today…will you…be going to the clubroom?” she asked, probing, the words faltering on their way out of her mouth.

But my reply was obvious. “No, I won’t,” I said.

As if she’d known how I would respond, she immediately smoothed things over with a smile. “Y-yeah… U-um, we’re thinking we’ll talk with Iroha-chan a little more, um, like to firm up some kind of plan, so…”

I inferred from the way she spoke that she’d be working with Yukinoshita. The two of them had probably discussed things the day before, after I’d left.

It took Yuigahama only a few steps’ worth of time to say the rest of what she had to say. “And if you didn’t know, Hikki, it’d be kinda like, you know, so…”

That you know held a lot of meaning. It was the sort of vague wording that made you want to sniff out exactly what she wanted to say. But looking at Yuigahama beside me as she spoke, her face turned downward, I could understand that she had no other way to express herself.

I should have been used to walking these stairs, but they felt particularly long.

“Aren’t you…?” The words suddenly popped out of my mouth.

“Huh?”

“…No, it’s nothing.” I’d started to say, Aren’t you angry? but then stopped. Just how awkward could I be? Pathetic.

How could I fail to pick up on that much?

Yuigahama wanted to keep things the way they had been by spending her time the same as she always had.

That should be in agreement with what I had done.

You bury it out in the yard, act like it’s okay, make it so it’s never happened, and go back to how you lived before. And then eventually, once it can no longer be taken back, once it’s gone and forgotten, you will regretfully think, Oh, this was how it was back then, and tell yourself it was a bittersweet memory.

“…Well, if it’s just to hear what you guys say,” I said, right when we were shy of the top of the steps. I immediately turned the hallway corner, so I didn’t catch her reply.

Class ended, and the other students left the room in clusters. Of course, some stayed behind to hang out and chat, and some would talk for a while before they went to their clubs.

I quickly got myself ready to go, then sat there in my chair, taking a few deep breaths. I couldn’t go straight home.

Since attendance to the Service Club had become voluntary, there was nothing compelling me there. But just as I’d discussed with Yuigahama when I’d come to school that morning, I had to go to the service clubroom to hear what Isshiki had to say.

Frankly speaking, the plan I had in mind could be carried out regardless of Isshiki’s intentions or her situation, so I didn’t really need to hear this. But still, the direction Yukinoshita and Yuigahama took their approach could affect my plans somewhat. So the main point of this was, if anything, to hear what the two of them would say.

How long had it been since I’d directly opposed Yukinoshita? This was like when we’d first met, when we’d been criticizing every little thing about each other’s methods. Though actually, I feel like that was more my way of doing things being criticized.

Yeah. Thinking about it that way, this was more of the same. Yet again, Yukinoshita was rejecting my methods. So then the format here hadn’t changed—the old status quo had been maintained.

If nothing had changed, then there was no problem.

Coming to this conclusion, I stood from my seat.

I took a covert look around the classroom. Nobody was here, aside from a few people chatting. It seemed Yuigahama had already left.

I went out into the hallway and headed to the special-use building. School had only just ended, so this area should have been full of cultural clubs doing their thing, but the hallway was particularly vacant. Thinking about it, I hadn’t walked down this hallway last year around this time. I discovered for the first time how cold the air wafting through was in late fall.

Coming to the clubroom door, I opened it without hesitation.

“Oh, you came…,” Yuigahama said. She looked over at me with an expression of relief.

There were two others in the clubroom. Yukinoshita glanced at me. She must have been writing something, as she immediately returned her attention to the paper in her hands.

The other person present, Iroha Isshiki, was sitting opposite from Yukinoshita and Yuigahama. She spun her whole body around to look at me and gave me this curious look like, Who is this guy again? And then, like she was saying, Guess I’ll just smile, then, she beamed and gave me a casual bow.

Well, no surprise there. Given her position, I’m sure I’m a creature of little importance. Especially since she’s usually hanging around Hayama and his crowd, so she’s also associated with the top caste.

But in spite of that, she didn’t blatantly ignore me, and that made me feel like she understood how to get on in the world. Frankly speaking, if this had been me a long time ago, I’m confident that this alone would have been enough for me to develop a crush on her. Let me put it another way—that somewhat cunning side of her had to be what had gotten the other girls fed up with her, leading us to where we were now.

I replied with a casual bow of my own and sat in my usual seat. Then Yukinoshita opened her mouth. “Well, let’s hear what you have to say.”

Isshiki hadn’t said anything yet? I flicked my eyes over to the clock to see a fair bit of time had passed since the end-of-class bell had rung. I’d told Yuigahama that morning I would come, so apparently, they had waited for me.

“…Sorry to make you wait,” I said.

Yukinoshita closed her eyes, not looking at me. “…It’s all right.” She didn’t say anything after that.

When a strange and uncomfortable silence fell, Yuigahama smiled in embarrassment and turned back to Isshiki. “Um, sorry to make you come here. Weren’t you busy with your club?”

“No, not at all! Plus, when I told Hayama I had some important stuff to do, he let me go,” Isshiki replied cheerfully, leaning forward a bit as she continued. “But wait, Yui, you’re in the same class as Hayama, right? Did you tell him about me?”

“Huh? …Hmm, I don’t really feel like I did.” Mouth half-open, Yuigahama tilted her head as she searched her memories, but it seemed there was nothing relevant.

Hearing this, Isshiki sullenly fell into thought. “…Is that right? He let me go so easily, I wondered if he’d heard something.”

Agh, I get it. Inferring from her comments, Isshiki liked Hayama.

So she wanted to make sure that he’d let her slip out of club easily because he knew what her situation was and Not at all because he doesn’t need me or anything, right?

Hey, I can kind of understand those feelings, so, man, this is hard to comment on. If you’re gonna read into the things people do and say, then read into it and no more, you know?! Because discovering the truth just hurts.

If even I was noticing Isshiki’s feelings on this matter, of course Yuigahama would notice, too. She made an Oh, crap! face, then immediately attempted to smooth over the situation. “Oh, but this is Hayato, so if he knows he’d, like, you know, I think he’d be considerate in all sorts of ways! So even if he was concerned, he’d actually be like…you know?”

“Y-yeah, you’re right!”

Yuigahama and Isshiki both laughed it off. Ha-ha-ha!

Yukinoshita, who had been watching their exchange with disinterest, identified that the conversation had reached a break. “Yuigahama,” she said, “let’s get started.”

“Yeah, okay. We’re going to decide on our plan, so could we talk about things?”

When Yuigahama got to the subject at hand, Isshiki replied with a drawn-out “Okaaay!”

“So here’s what we think is best. First, we set up another candidate besides you, and you run against them. Then you lose to them in a ballot without a fuss. But does that sound good?”

“Yeah, like, a ballot could do it, huh? Oh, but if possible, it’d personally be pretty sweet to lose to someone great!” Isshiki replied cheerfully, though it seemed she’d hardly considered the matter.

Though Yuigahama was the one explaining the plan, that idea was the one Yukinoshita had brought up the day before. The two of them must have discussed it and settled on this. Now they would confirm what Isshiki wanted and then work out further details.

That much was fine. But the problem still remained. “Have you found a candidate?” I asked.

“Well, not yet…” At a loss for words, Yuigahama turned away.

Well, it wasn’t like they were going to decide in one day. What was important was the deadline for deciding. “How much longer is the application open for additional candidates?”

“Monday, the week after next. But still, we’re already past the original deadline, so we shouldn’t wait until then to decide. That’s the only day they’re taking applications. The election is the Thursday of that week,” Yukinoshita replied instantly, though I’d meant to ask that of Yuigahama. Her eyes were down on the paper on the table, and there were no signs of emotion in the minimal information she offered.

Loosely folding my arms, I calculated the time between that day’s date and the deadline.

It was Tuesday. It was also after school, so I should assume that the real attempt to find a candidate wouldn’t start until the next day. Considering they couldn’t do anything on weekends, they didn’t have much time. Taking into account the documents for application and collecting the list of nominators, that meant their time was even more limited. And they had to find someone who surpassed Iroha Isshiki, to boot.

“So you find a candidate, convince them, and come up with at least thirty nominators. And then there’s the election campaign…,” I murmured, thinking aloud.

Yukinoshita replied coldly, “I’m aware we don’t have much time left.” Then she lifted her chin, which had been tilted downward until then, and said to Isshiki, “So then, I intend to proceed with everything else…Isshiki.”

“R-right.” Isshiki seemed flustered as she replied. I supposed a soft and ditzy type like her would have trouble dealing with brisk types like Yukinoshita. She quickly adjusted her posture, sitting up straight. Although her fingers were still plucking her overlong sleeves, her hands fidgeting with her somewhat short skirt slightly, I couldn’t see much anxiety in those gestures.

Isshiki gave Yukinoshita a solemn look, telling her she was ready to listen, and with those eyes on her, Yukinoshita began. “No matter how we do this, you’ll have to be standing up there for the campaign speech, Isshiki.”

“Agh, well, that’s fine…”

Well, it seemed like she was used to being the focus of attention. But she didn’t sound like she understood at all, which bothered me. That would make some trouble for me, too. Just as Yukinoshita said, Isshiki would be going up to the podium for the plan I was thinking of, too.

“The campaign speech is an announcement of your campaign promises, and I believe that will be your focal point during the speech. Though I doubt anyone will be listening very closely…” Her words sounded self-deprecating, somehow. She seemed to be implying something else, but before I could think about it, Yukinoshita continued. “I believe it would be preferable for you to present a different campaign pledge in your speech from the one for the candidate we arrange. If the pledges are too similar, the vote will become a popularity contest, so I want to ensure there’s something else to set you apart.”

If they could find someone to back who was even more popular than Isshiki, that would be ideal, but if they couldn’t, and it ended up a vote of popularity, that would make it a tough fight for someone who wasn’t as well-known. If the candidates were saying the same thing, people would choose whoever looked better. Who is speaking matters more than the message.

Isshiki and Yuigahama were going “Hmm, hmm” and nodding as if maybe they understood and maybe they didn’t.

Concerned by their reactions, Yukinoshita held out a piece of paper. “This is what I thought up for the election pledges and the speech. Please take a look. It would be helpful if you would use this as a reference to come up with something different.”

From behind, I peered at the paper Isshiki took from her.

“…Um, is this it?” Isshiki said with surprise, skimming over it. Indeed, the content, written in meticulous handwriting, was brief and not what you might expect from Yukino Yukinoshita.

There were two election promises: the establishment of a room for students to research and prepare for university, and the relaxation of standards for the provision of club funds. For the club expenses, it was exactly what it said on the tin and easy to understand. As for the other promise, the university prep room, looking over the text, I got the gist of it.

It seemed to refer to the systematization and storing of academic know-how through the supply and loan of past problem collections and the creation of a database of old routine tests, for the sake of supporting students’ studies. It wasn’t simply about establishing a reference room—the key point was that the breadth was expanded to include routine tests. Being able to get extra points on those tests would be reassuring for those students who were aiming for recommendations to their schools of choice.

It seemed this stance was meant to accommodate both those in clubs and those focusing on entrance exams.

“Ohhh,” murmured Isshiki as she scrutinized the paper, but those two points were all that Yukinoshita had written there.

Observing this, Yuigahama combed at her bun. “Well, I thought it might not be enough, too.”

“With this sort of thing, quantity isn’t the issue. Even one would work,” Yukinoshita said with a smile at Yuigahama. It was a peaceful expression that made her look more mature than usual.

I got her point. That was pretty much all anyone would actually care about in the speech. You could say a lot, but nobody would be listening anyway. It was important to narrow it down to the points they would hear.

But still, I thought it was suspicious that she seemed strangely familiar with this until I suddenly remembered about Yukinoshita’s family. Her father was a prefectural assembly member or something, wasn’t he? So she may have been familiar with elections and speeches and things of that nature. Meaning it was fine for her to be proposing these election promises.

What bothered me was what would come next.

“…Hey, so if you guys are coming up with the campaign pledges, that means you’re arranging a total puppet candidate. Are you okay with that?”

“…” Yukinoshita had been faintly smiling, but now a shadow fell over her expression. It seemed I’d hit a sore point, and she fell silent.

Yuigahama and Isshiki looked over at me, seeking explanation.

“If your plan goes well, then that’s fine. Though I don’t think that’s realistic… But if the candidate you guys set up manages to get elected, what about the management of the student council after that? Are you going to keep helping them? The whole time?” Even though I didn’t mean to be accusatory, my tone got sharper with each word.

Yuigahama cut me off. “S-so then, we should just look for someone who can do the job properly.”

“That just makes your task even harder. If you consider further down the road, there’s not much point in that method, and it’s not a very good one to begin with.” This wasn’t only about this election. It would also involve the management of student council from here on out, too. Yukinoshita and Yuigahama’s idea still wouldn’t be enough to resolve it.

I couldn’t see the point.

Yukinoshita’s gaze dropped to the desk, and I couldn’t see her expression. Face tilted down, delicate fingers tightly laced together, her thin shoulders didn’t even twitch.

But after a small breath, I heard her minutely trembling voice. “…So then what’s the point of your idea?” she asked.

I came up with no answer right away. It was late in the game to be asking that question, but I still didn’t have an answer ready.

What point was there in it?

There was no point.

There’s never any meaning in putting things off, dragging them out, and ultimately wasting everything. That’s what my methods accomplish. I didn’t need anyone telling me that at this point—I understood it myself.

But there are problems that can only be eliminated that way. In some cases, this is the most effective method.

That is a fact.

If that could be said of this matter as well, then it was clear what I would say.

“If we assume it’s just this once, then it’d avoid the problem for the time being. After she loses the vote of confidence, for the follow-up election, we step back and leave things to their natural course. That’s the right answer.”

“Just this once? No. It’s not only this time.” Yukinoshita didn’t sound delicate like she had before. Her voice was severe, accusatory, and cold.

After looking down all this time, she raised her face.

Her eyes were burning blue. The sharp light of her eyes wouldn’t allow me to turn away. Her gaze was so direct, it was as if it was stabbing me in the neck with an icicle, capturing me and refusing to let go.

I couldn’t help but gulp.

Yukinoshita bit her lip—as if she was trying to swallow her words. “…You avoided the issue the same way, last time.” She spoke so, so quietly, but her voice echoed in my ears.

It was like my whole brain was being shaken inside my skull.

In my mind’s eye, I could see a bamboo forest illuminated by crisp blue moonlight, branches and leaves rustling in the cold wind.

In an attempt to shake that off, I unconsciously swept back my hair. “So…is there a problem with that?”

I had not resolved or canceled out the matter of the school field trip. But the problem had been masked. The result, an evasion, wasn’t something that would satisfy everyone. In fact, I’d arranged the matter to be dealt with by not satisfying everyone.

That was why no one could blame me for my actions then.

Aside from her.

The sharp light in her glare did not dim or shift away from me.

Her tightly pressed lips trembled. “You were the one who said there was no meaning in that kind of superficiality…” Her cold, soft voice sounded so sorrowful, somehow. I had to look away. Her piercing remark, her words, was the one thing I had no reply for.

Because I’m sure that was the one conviction Hachiman Hikigaya and Yukino Yukinoshita had shared.

When I failed to say anything, she sighed in resignation. “You have no intention of changing, do you?”

“…No.” I could answer that without hesitation.

I would not change. I could not change.

“U-um…” Yuigahama opened her mouth in an attempt to do something about the tension. But her eyes wandered all over like she was searching for something to say. Her gaze wavered between the two of us.

The seconds ticked by with an icy chill. Yukinoshita and I were both starkly silent.

Isshiki looked at over at Yuigahama uncomfortably. She didn’t know me or Yukinoshita, so Yuigahama would be the only one for her to turn to when things were awkward.

But eventually, Yuigahama was at a loss as to what to say, too.

Before she could find her words, I stood from my seat. “…I should get going. I get the gist of what’s happening.”

There was nothing for me to gain from staying in the clubroom any longer. Just plenty to lose.

The sound of my indoor shoes ticked out a light rhythm in the quiet room. Nobody moved aside from me.

The few steps to the door didn’t feel long—probably because I was making an effort not to think about anything. Or maybe I was thinking so much, I wasn’t even conscious of the time.

After closing the door behind me, I walked down the hallway for a while, and then the soft sound of a door sliding open cut through the silence. I turned around automatically to find Iroha Isshiki there. My shoulders slumped. It was less out of disappointment and more like relief. I wasn’t confident that I could speak well to the others right then.

She trotted up to me. “Um, is it okay for me to leave this to you…?” she asked, lowering her voice for the benefit of the clubroom behind her. Her question sounded worried. Having come to consult with us, she’d witnessed a vague skirmish that couldn’t even be called an argument. Her unease was understandable. “If a decent enough person did show up, then it would be easier for me. I’d rather do that, but…”

“Then it’d have to be someone on Hayama’s level.”

“It can’t be him!”

Of course not… I really doubt he’d do it… “…Well, worst case, we’ll manage. It’ll work out somehow, even on the day of,” I said.

But Isshiki’s mistrust was transparent in her vague response. “Agh, I don’t want to just lose, though…” Still, she seemed to make an effort to smooth that over, putting her hands together in front of her chest with a cute smile. “But you’ve been a help. I mean, nobody else’ll help me. You guys are the only ones I can rely on!”

If I hadn’t known anything, that gesture and manner of speaking would have stirred up protective feelings. But since I understood this was a skill she used to get by, I didn’t really feel anything.

She’s different from the Kaori Orimoto type. She’s motivated entirely by how others see her—how boys see her, specifically.

“Fluffy-cute me” vs. “forthright and cool me.”

Whichever you choose, you’re just slapping a character on yourself, and personal feelings have nothing to do with it. Once you’ve established that character, you have to take actions that are consistent with it.

Therefore, she’d act that same way toward me, too. There was no meaning beyond that.

I wouldn’t say this was proof, but she clapped her hands with an “Oh!” as if she’d remembered something, then hopped away from me. “I still have my club, so I have to go. Thanks!” She casually raised a hand and then trotted away. Her lack of attachment was a vivid representation of her lack of interest in me.

I’m sure a long time ago, I would have attached some meaning even to this sort of trivial conversation.

I’d really only grown in the worst ways. I had to laugh at myself.