บท 32: Hayato Hayama’s presence always shines.
There is nothing less relaxing to the soul than school recess.
The classroom was filled with chattering bustle. One and all were freed
from the oppression that is class, and they were conversing intimately with
friends about what to do after school or what they'd seen on TV the previous
day. The conversations flying around the room might as well have been in a
foreign language; even if they reached my ears, they held no meaning for me.
Things were even livelier than usual. This was because our homeroom
teacher had dropped the bomb the day before that we'd be deciding on groups
for the workplace tour at the end of the classes today. Though who'd be
going where wouldn't be settled until long homeroom for a couple more days
yet, everyone was already getting excited about it.
Though several of the conversations floating through room revolved
around the question Where are you going? none of them seemed to be about
Who are you going with? That was probably because nearly everyone in class
had formed their particular cliques already. It was only natural. The
institution known as "school" isn't just a facility for doing classwork. It's
essentially a microcosm of society, all of humanity put together in a little
diorama. Bullying exists in schools because war and conflict exist in the world, and school castes reflect our stratified, hierarchical society. Living in a
democracy, the tyranny of the majority naturally applies at school, too. The
majority—that is to say, the people with lots of friends—are superior.
My chin resting in my palms in a half-dozing posture, I hazily observed
my classmates. I'd gotten plenty of sleep the night before and wasn't
particularly tired, but having spent my breaks like this for so long, my body
had been conditioned to fall asleep. As I was nodding off, a small hand flitted
in a wave across my field of vision. I lifted my head, thinking, Hmm? What?
Saika Totsuka was sitting in the seat in front of me. "Morning!" he
giggled with a smile, greeting me as I stirred.
"Make me my miso soup every morning."
"H…huh?! Wh-what do you…?"
"Oh, uh, nothing. I was just sleep-talking." Oh man, I proposed to him.
Damn, why was all this cuteness wasted on him? He's a guy! Or is it because
he's a guy…? I guess he isn't gonna make me miso soup in the mornings…
"Did you need something?"
"Not really, but…I thought maybe you'd be around, so… Should I…not
have come?"
"No, it's okay. It's actually so okay, I want you to come talk to me
twenty-four-seven." More like I actually want him to come say he likes me
24/7.
"But then I'd have to be with you forever, wouldn't I?" Totsuka covered
his mouth with his hand, grinning like he thought it was funny. Then,
apparently realizing something, he brought his palms together in a tiny clap.
"Have you already decided where you're doing your workplace tour,
Hikigaya?"
"Well, I guess I've decided, but also kinda not," I admitted, but I suppose
I failed to convey my point very well because Totsuka tilted his head, peering
up at my face. The gesture revealed the collarbone peeking out from his gym
clothes, and I averted my eyes automatically. Why is his skin so pretty? What
kind of body soap is he using?!
"Oh, what I'm saying is, I don't really care
where I go. If it's not my house, it's all the same to me. Everywhere is
equally pointless."
"Huh… You say such tough things sometimes, Hikigaya."
I don't remember having said anything particularly hard to follow, but
Totsuka'd sounded impressed. I felt as if I could hear a bading! as my affection meter rose; though Totsuka was the kind of character who
influenced your affecti-o-meter no matter what he said. It was actually scary.
I felt at risk of going down a character route better left untraveled.
"So…then have you maybe…already decided who you're going with?"
Totsuka was gazing into my eyes a little hesitantly, but I could feel his firm
intentions. Why did he say it like that? He really made it sound like he
actually meant I want to go with you, but if you've already made up your
mind, then that's too bad. His attack caught me completely off guard. And
that surprise attack was knocking on the door to my memories as vigorously
as a newspaper salesman.
I feel like this has happened once before, long ago…
Yes, it was when I'd just started my second year of middle school. I'd
drawn the short straw and ended up being picked as the boy class
representative, and then a cute girl volunteered to be the girl class rep and
told me shyly, I'm looking forward to working with you this year.
Yaagh! That was close! Once again, I'd been inches from being taken in
by a line dripping with implications that I didn't remotely understand, leading
to me getting seriously hurt. I'd already seen this play out once. An
experienced loner does not fall for the same trick twice. Confessions of love
as a part of a punishment game after losing rock-paper-scissors don't work on
me, and neither do fake love letters from a girl written by boys in her name.
I'm a hardened veteran schooled in a hundred battles. I am the best when it
comes to losing.
Okay, I'd calmed down. In cases like this, the safest thing to do is just
mirror the enemy's moves. In other words, Fearow is surely a master loner.
That's why I decided to answer his question with a question. "Have you
decided who you're going with?"
"M-me…? I've…already…decided." Bewildered at suddenly having this
grenade suddenly thrown back at him, Totsuka's cheeks reddened. He turned
his eyes slightly downward, then glanced up again as if checking to see how
I'd react.
Of course. Totsuka was in the tennis club, so in other words, there was a
place for him there, a place in his own special community, and inevitable
friendships he could derive from that. Of course he would have friends in
class.
And then there was me. I was in a club, but it was really just an isolation ward gathering together kids who'd failed to conform to school expectations.
I clearly wasn't gonna be making friends there. "Now that I think of it—
actually, I don't even need to think about it—I don't have any guy friends."
"U-um…Hikigaya… I'm…a guy…though…" Totsuka muttered
something very quietly, but he was so cute I couldn't hear him properly.
Anyway, conversing with another human being in class was an
exceedingly odd feeling. Ever since the tennis incident a few days earlier,
Totsuka and I had started exchanging what passed for something like small
talk whenever we ran into each other. Was this really friendship? I had my
doubts. You can share an exchange with a mere acquaintance—no, with
someone who doesn't even rise to that level of distinction. For example, in
line at Naritake Ramen, you might chat with someone next to you, like, It
sure is crowded, huh? or Long line again today—what a pain! But you
wouldn't call that person a friend. Friends are more like…
"So where've you decided to go, Hayato?"
"I'd like to go check out something related to mass media or maybe a
foreign-owned company."
"Oh man, you've really got a focus on your future, Hayato. You totally
have it together. But I guess we are at that age, huh? I have mad 'spect for my
folks these days."
"It's all serious business from now on!"
"Whoa! But you don't wanna lose your boyish spirit!"
I guess friends are something like that. Maybe talking like they do—like
every trivial conversation is the height of their youth—is what being friends
is. There's no way I could do that; I'd burst into laughter halfway. And what
did he mean, mad 'spect? Did he think he was some kind of rapper?
As usual and as always, Hayato Hayama had a charming smile on his face
and was surrounded by three guys. Everyone was casually saying, Hayato,
Hayato, calling him by his first name, and Hayama amicably returned the
familiarity. I guess that display was something you could appropriately dub
"friendship." But to me, it just looked like people posturing with first names
to make them feel like they were friends. They're only doing it because that's
what people categorized as "friends" do in TV shows, manga, and anime.
How is doing that supposed to make you closer?
But hey, why not try it out? With anything, firsthand experience is a
necessity. I'm the kind of guy who won't condemn any manga he hasn't actually read. I'll try reading it, but if it's a total mess, I'll slam it hard and
fast.
Experiment: Does the usage of first names change human relationships?
"Saika."
When I called his name, Totsuka froze up. His big eyes blinked once,
twice, three times, as his mouth gaped. See, it doesn't make you closer after
all, huh? Well, it's normal for someone to be irritated if someone suddenly
employs their first name. I mean, when Zaimokuza started calling me
Hachiman, I ignored him hard. Basically, this first name business is just
normies (LOL) lying to themselves, tamping down their anger, and
pretending to get along.
Anyway, an apology to Totsuka was probably in order. "Oh, sorry, I
just…"
"I'm so glad! This is the first time you've ever called me by my first
name."
"Whaat…?"
Totsuka smiled sweetly, his eyes slightly moist.
Seriously? Does this mark the end of my time as a foreveralone? Am I
transitioning from loner loser to just the normal kind of loser? Being a
normie ('spect) is amazing. The scales have fallen from my eyes .
"So…," Totsuka began, fixing me with his puppy dog eyes. "C-can I…
call you Hikki, too?"
"No." Why'd he have to go with that one, the one with all the shameful,
shady implications? There was only one person on the list of individuals who
addressed me by that name, and I didn't want to add another.
My flat refusal seemed to disappoint Totsuka somewhat, but he cleared
his throat tentatively and tried again. "Then…Hachiman?"
Stab! There goes the arrow right through my heart. "S-say that three more
times!"
Totsuka grinned sheepishly as if my crazed request confused him. He was
so cute when he was embarrassed that it was embarrassing me. "Hachiman,"
he said, staring at me as if eager to quantify my reaction. "Hachiman?" He
tilted his head to the side, expression quizzical. "Hachiman! Are you
listening?!" He puffed his cheeks out in a bit of a pout.
His mild anger snapped me out of it. Bad Hachiman, bad. He was so cute,
he'd entranced me completely for a moment there. "O-oh, sorry. What were
we talking about?" I attempted to hide how I'd been zoning out as I mentally
jotted down the results of the experiment in my head.
Conclusion: Totsuka is cute when you call him by his first name.
***
"Zaimokuza… Do you…need something?" I asked.
Yukinoshita sighed deeply, then shot daggers at me as if to say, And I was
trying so hard to ignore him.
Hey, I had a choice here. It's not like I actually wanted to talk to him, but
this had been going on for about thirty minutes. It was as bad as the Haunted
Housekeeper in Uptaten Towers in Dragon Quest V. If I didn't talk to him
now, the situation will drag on interminably.
Zaimokuza rubbed the tip of his nose as if he was glad I'd asked and
laughed, Heh-heh. How obnoxious. "Yes, my apologies. A good line just
happened to arise in my mind, so I unconsciously gave voice to it that I might
grasp its feel and the cadence of the words. Heh… It seems I am an author to
the pith of my bones… I think of my novels, waking and sleeping. The pen is
my fate…"
Unfortunately, Zaimokuza's talents were limited to talking big.
Yuigahama and I exchanged exhausted looks.
Yukinoshita snapped her book shut, and Zaimokuza flinched. "I thought
an author was someone who created things. Have you created anything?"
"Ngaaagh!" Zaimokuza threw his head back as if there were something
stuck in his throat. His overreactions are so annoying. But he seemed
unusually confident that day and recovered quickly, clearing his throat with a
contrived gahum, gahum. "Ehem. You won't be able to say that for long. I
finally have it in my grasp—the road to El Dorado!"
"What, have you won a prize?"
"N-no, not yet… H-however, once I finish my book, winning a prize is a
mere matter of time!" For some reason, Zaimokuza was acting like he had it
in the bag.
Come on. What part of that remark contained anything worth bragging
about? If he's going to be like that, then when I'm done with the game I'm
working on in RPG Maker, I'll change the course of Japanese gaming
history.
Zaimokuza threw back his coat with a rustle and yelled loudly as if trying
to steer the conversation back on course. "Ha-ha! Listen and be amazed! I
have decided to go to a publishing house for the upcoming workplace tour! In
other words…you get my gist, right?"
"No, I don't."
"Your wits are dull, Hachiman. What I'm saying is that my genius will finally be discovered. This means that I will have connections!"
"Come on, you're being ridiculously optimistic. You're worse than an
eighth grader who brags about knowing some delinquent older kid."
But Zaimokuza wasn't paying attention to anything I said. He was staring
in the opposite direction, smirking to himself, and mumbling: "And the studio
will be…and the casting…" Creepy.
Anyway, even if he was going to a publisher, I figured quality varies. But
if he believed that fervently that his future would be that bright, there was
nothing I could say to him. Still, there was one thing that didn't make sense.
"Zaimokuza, I'm surprised anyone would listen to what workplace you
wanted."
"Why must you put it thus? You make me sound as lowly as an ant… But
no matter. There happened to be two other so-called nerds in training for the
forthcoming expedition. I said naught. Those two decided we would be
sojourning to a publisher, going eek-eek-eh-heh-heh all the while. Those two
are most certainly the BL that is all the rage these days. Even I was powerless
before their love, so I kept silent so as not to interrupt them."
"You should have made nice with your kind…" Yukinoshita sighed,
without so much as looking at Zaimokuza. But her suggestion would never
come to pass. There are things some people cannot compromise on precisely
because both parties are fixated on the same thing. It's kind of like a holy
war.
"I see… The workplace tour, huh…?" Yuigahama mused, each word
imbued with feeling. I peeked at her from the corner of my eye, and she
turned away immediately. Her face was red, and her eyes were darting about
so quickly I wanted to give her a board to use as a target. Did she have a cold
or something? "Hey, where are you going, Hikki?"
"My house."
"Yeah, no. That's not gonna happen for you," Yuigahama said
dismissively, waving her hand back and forth in the motion for no.
It's too early to surrender yet, I thought… But as I didn't want Miss
Hiratsuka to punch me, I decided to give up. I've surrendered, so the game's
already over. "Hmm… Well, I guess I'll go wherever the other people in my
group want to go."
"Why so passive?"
"Well…it's always the same for me. I get stuck with whoever's left at the end, so I'll have no voting rights."
"Ohhhh—o-oh…uh, sorry." As usual, she was stepping all over my
personal land mines. I bet she was bad at Minesweeper.
That particular land mine existed because, well, forming groups of three is
unbelievably even more horrific than pairing off with one other person. If it's
just two of you, you can both suck it up and simply accept the situation in
grim silence, but in a trio, two of them will buddy up, consigning the third
wheel to max heart alienation.
"So you never did decide where you'll go, then," Yuigahama muttered
with a hmm and a faraway expression.
"Have you decided where you will go, Yuigahama?" asked Yukinoshita.
"Yeah. I'm going wherever's closest to school."
"Your ideas are as bad as Hikigaya's."
"Hey, don't lump me in with her," I protested. "My decision to apply to
stay at home is based on high-minded ideals. And where are you going,
anyway? The police station? A courtroom? Or a prison?"
"Wrong. Now I understand quite well what you think of me." Yukinoshita
chuckled, the smirk on her face frigid.
That was what I'm talking about. That. The way you smile is scary,
seriously. I'd thought up those potential destinations based on my impression
of Yukinoshita as an intellectual person, but she apparently wasn't into any of
them. How odd… It wasn't like I was saying that Yukinoshita was cold or
cruel or callous or anything. Eh-heh-heh. Why was she giving me that weird
smile in response?
"Perhaps…some think tank or a research facility. I'll make my choice
later." Apparently, she hadn't decided yet, as she only briefly gave us an idea
of the general field for which she was aiming. But anyway, judging from her
calm and serious personality, I could easily imagine where she might go.
Just then, I felt someone plucking at the sleeve of my blazer. What is this,
some kind of sleeve-pulling imp? I wondered, and when I turned, there was
Yuigahama. She quietly pulled her face close to mine, drawing her lips to my
ear. Her pointlessly sweet smell and her glossy hair touching the back of my
neck made me shiver. This was the first time I'd ever felt her get this close.
Blood rushed like mad to my heart so furiously it was deafening. "H-
Hikki…" The sweet breath of her ticklish murmurs at my ear made me feel
itchy. Now that she was close enough for me to feel her breath on my skin, I could almost hear both of our hearts beating.
What if…maybe…my heart is pounding like this because…?
"Wh-what's a think tank? A tank company?" She said think tank like an
old lady would.
Nope. I guess it was just arrhythmia.
"Yuigahama." Yukinoshita sighed, looking exasperated, and Yuigahama
peeled away from me. "Listen, a think tank is…" She began her explanation,
and Yuigahama listened eagerly, hmming along. The two of them were in
casual study mode.
Observing them with a sidelong glance, I refocused my attention on the
important task of reading my shoujo manga.
About fifteen minutes passed after Yukinoshita finished explaining think
tanks and related trivia to Yuigahama. The setting sun was nearing the sea.
From the fourth-floor clubroom, you had a good view of the water shining
and sparkling in the distance. If you looked below, you'd see the baseball
team raking the diamond, the soccer team carrying away their nets, and the
track team putting away their hurdles and mats. It seemed that club time was
ending. I stole a gander at the clock on the wall, and Yukinoshita
simultaneously snapped her book shut. When she did, Zaimokuza flinched.
Come on, you're way too jumpy around her.
I can't say for sure when this rule was established, but Yukinoshita
closing her book had become our signal that club time was over. Yuigahama
and I quickly began readying for our departure.
In the end, nooobody had come that day to consult with us. Why was
Zaimokuza the only one who'd shown up? Nobody wanted him there. I
figured I'd have some ramen on the way back and then go home.
Thinking
about dinner, I decided on a light meal at Houraiken. It's a Niigata-style
ramen shop, and their light and refreshing broth is first-rate. It's also a shop
that Zaimokuza told me about. Oh, crap, my mouth is watering.
That was when ithappened. There was a delightfully rhythmical tap, tap
on the door.
"Now?" My blissful ramen time interrupted, I found myself in bad mood
mode and glared at the clock. Had I been at home, I'd have reverted to my
habit of pretending not to be there. I shot a look at Yukinoshita as if to ask,
So what do we do? But…
"Come in." Yukinoshita reacted to the rap at the door without giving me so much as a glance. Though our visitor was clearly lacking in consideration,
Yukinoshita was not to be outdone in this regard. No, she was probably
winning there.
"Excuse me." It was a breezy, soothing voice; a boy.
Who the hell was this guy, barging in to deny me my ramen? I directed a
resentful stare at the door and was surprised by who strode through. It was
someone who shouldn't have even been there.
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