History Repeats Itself
“Siddown.”
“Eep.”
Kunugi Kou checked in at the student counseling room! I tweeted a message out to my internal social network as I sat down on Sensei’s orders. It got precisely zero likes.
“Why’re you sitting by the door? C’mon, there’s plenty of room back here.”
“Oh, y’know, just didn’t want to waste time walking all the way—”
“And since when have you ever been in a hurry, Mister Showed-Up-Late-Twice-in-a-Row?”
“That’s not what I—”
“Siddown. And shut up.”
“...Okay.”
So much for securing an escape route. I ended up sitting exactly where I didn’t want to be (waaay in the back of the room, by the windows, with my teacher positioned directly between me and the door). Daimon-sensei (thirtyish, unmarried, pretty-hot-but-also-scary, and dragged down by all sorts of personality defects) sat across from me.
“First off, I’ve got a question.”
“Okay?”
“Why’d you come in through the back gate?”
“...”
I glanced away awkwardly, but judging by the way her glare was burning a hole in me, she had no intention of letting me dodge the question.
“Why. Did you. Come in. Through. The back gate?” she asked again. Yup, seems we’re not moving on until she gets her answer.
“Y’know how every once in a while you sorta just feel like changing up your routine?”
“You were three hours late, and you just happened to feel like changing things up.”
“I knew you’d be waiting for me at the front gate so I was trying to dodge you by sneaking in through the back.” Wha? Crap! Her tone of voice was so loaded with pressure, I accidentally told the truth on reflex!
A handy-dandy summary of the events that led me to this point, for reference:
Arrive at school → Notice Daimon-sensei staking out the front gate → Circle around to the back gate → Climb over the fence; Daimon-sensei’s there too, somehow (biggest mystery of the year) → Get hauled off to the student counseling room → Arrive at my current predicament.
Seriously, though, I was positive I had seen her at the front gate! How she caught me anyway’s anyone’s guess.
“You knew, huh? You knew.”
Oh, right, I guess I sorta let the fact that I saw her slip by saying that. Whoopsie-daisy~☆
...Wait, wait, wait. She knows I saw her?! “Whoopsie-daisy” my ass! Since when was I that big a moron?! She looked so serious, her glare was making me shiver! How do I get out of this?! What the hell am I supposed to do?!
“I’m so sorry...”
I apologized on instinct alone before I even had the chance to think about it! And by “apologized,” I mean full-on, face-pressed-to-the-desk supplication.
“...Ayase explained the situation to me, so I understand why you were late.”
I assumed she was talking about Ayase the Elder. Or rather, Ayase the Protag. Or rather, Ayase the War Criminal Antihero who put the stupid call on speakerphone.
“But still, forgetting your bag at his house was your own mistake. You see where I’m coming from, right?”
“...Yeah.”
“Then, of course, there’s the part where you shit-talked me.”
“Okay, lemme explain—”
“What was it you said...? I’m ‘an old bag’ who’s ‘been on the shelf for so long her mind’s gone twisted’...?”
Daimon-sensei, no! You’re just hurting yourself by repeating it! Why did I even say something that horrible?! I’ve watched enough bad TV to know that all that being-of-marriageable-age stuff’s a really sensitive subject for some adults! God, what the hell is wrong with me?!
“So anyway, consider yourself signed up for summer school.” This stupid old bag!
“Wait, what?! But we’re still three weeks off from finals! Aren’t you the one who told us that summer school’s a special privilege for people who fail their tests?! By the way, I’ve heard you have to score less than forty percent to fail!”
“Whether or not you fail your tests and whether or not you explain the summer school system back to me, you’re still going. Congratulations.” She smirked at me. “See, Oumei High gives homeroom teachers the authority to send problem children in their classes who don’t know right from wrong to summer school, regardless of their grades. I’m pulling that authority on you.”
“N-No, don’t! Please, don’t do this to me! Do you realize how precious summer vacation is to high schoolers?!”
“I get one week of summer vacation total. Problem?”
“I’m so very, very sorry!”
Holy crap, working in a public school sounds awful! No wonder she can’t find a spouse! Is that how it works for all adults? Jeez!
“B-But, Daimon-sensei?”
“What?”
It was just about time for fourth period to start, and I didn’t really think she had the time to be loitering around in a place like this (read: prison). And despite the fact that I was absolutely, indisputably in the right for questioning it...
“I don’t wanna hear that from a guy who skipped three of my classes two days in a row.”
My homeroom teacher (who also happened to teach Japanese, as well as modern and classical literature) smiled the sort of smile that tells you you’re absolutely screwed. I felt like an innocent little lamb getting stared down by a hungry wolf. I’m not coughing up blood, am I? Eyes haven’t rolled back into my head? Still alive in there, Kou? Kou?!
“I’ll be spending all day today whipping you into shape with remedial lessons. That’s in my jurisdiction as your homeroom teacher too.”
Her smile took on a sadistic edge. This school gives its teachers way too much authority, seriously. I figured her lessons were already over for the day, so she was totally free to stick around and keep me in line. As for the other classes I was supposed to go to that afternoon, apparently Japanese lessons took priority in her mind, so she couldn’t care less if I missed them.
My mind, however, was occupied by a far more serious matter. Something so incredibly grave and weighty it blew everything else we’d discussed out of the water.
“‘Whip you into shape’ sounds kinda dirty, doesn’t it?”
“Drop dead.”
“Rude!”
She knows I’m supposed to be a student, right?! Wait, not “supposed to be”—I’m an actual, genuine student here! What kind of teacher tells their students to drop dead?! “What, you can say anything just ’cause I sexually harassed you a little bit, is that how this works?!” ...I screamed, internally.
I admit it: the fault was mine, and mine alone. And the fact that I acknowledged I was at fault meant that I sure as heck didn’t have the guts to complain. If a main character-type was sitting here instead of me, I bet Sensei would’ve said something like, “H-Hey, dummy, you can’t say stuff like that to your teacher! You’re my student! We can’t! Not until you graduate... I, I mean, no! Aww, what’re you making me say, you little rapscallion?” or whatever. Asking an extra to get that sort of reaction out of their beautiful shrew of a teacher’s asking too much, though.
“I’ve got enough worksheets ready for you to last us for days.”
That whole time I’d been shooting the occasional uncomfortable glance at a veritable mountain of papers she had beside her, and she plopped it all onto my desk. Yup, looks like those were for me after all. Great.
“This is whipping me into shape? We’ll be here all day!”
“You stupid or something? I don’t have that sort of time. You’ll be here all day. I’ll come check on the room when you’re done, so be sure to clean up.”
“What kind of teacher tells their students to drop dead, calls them stupid, then dumps a load of paperwork on them?! A bad one, that’s what! Hey, you listening?!”
She wasn’t, because she’d already left. This was supposed to be a makeup lesson? It barely counted as a lesson at all! She just left me in the counseling room... All alone...
“Heh...”
I couldn’t hold it in.
“Heheheh...”
“It” being, of course...
“Hee hee... Ha ha ha ha! AAAHA HA HA HA HA HA!”
...Triumphant, ebullient laughter! I did it! I did it! A winner is me! Hell yeah!
I mean, come on, if this didn’t count as a huge victory, what would?! I escaped the watchful eye of my harpy of a prison guard! Dread incarnate has left the room! Without anyone around to watch me, I can half-ass my way through these worksheets in no time, spend the rest of the day slacking off, and declare victory! Summer school still sounds like it’s gonna totally suck, but it also sounds like a really background character sorta thing to end up in, so screw it, that’s a win too! Worst-case scenario, I can just ditch!
“HAAA HA HA HA HA HA! WAA HA HA HA HA HA! HYAA HA HA HA HA!”
“Shaddup!”
“Right! Sorry!”
Daimon-sensei came right back in and shouted me into submission, bringing my brief stint as emperor of the counseling room to a close. My reign lasted seven seconds in total. Then she made me do an absolute truckton of worksheets.
❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤
Lunchtime! Aaand I was less than a tenth of the way through my mountain of worksheets. I mean, come on, just look at the size of that pile! But when the lunch bell tolls, it tolls for thee (whether or not you’re done with your work). I was left no recourse but to casually stroll out of the counseling room. My destination: the school store. My goal: get something to eat.
“C’mon, kids, no pushing!”
I heard the cashier lady’s voice long before I saw her. The place was an absolute madhouse, as usual, and just like the day before...
“Ah, um, ah...”
A certain shorty was waffling around at the back of the crowd. Apparently she hadn’t learned her lesson the day before, and was once again staring helplessly and teary-eyed at the raging mass of humanity between her and her lunch.
She knew it’d be like this, didn’t she? Otherwise, why wouldn’t she just go to a convenience store and save herself the trouble? Oh well! Not my problem! I chose to ignore the munchkin, claim my luncheon, dash back to the counselin’ (room), and eat a bunch...in’? Okay, well, that rhyme totally fell apart.
“Hmm?”
Just as I resolved myself to sortie, I felt something pulling on my uniform. I glanced down, and of course...
“Um...”
Gyaaaahhhhhhh?! It’s the shorty! A wild shrimp’s trying to hitch a free ride on me!
“H-Hey, let go!” I shouted.
“Please help me!” she squealed.
“Not even trying to beat around the bush, are you?!”
“Grant me salvation!”
“What does that even mean?! Cut it out, Li’l Dummy! I’m gonna catch your idiocy at this rate!”
“My name’s not ‘Li’l Dummy,’ it’s Yuu! And I’m not an idiot!”
“Let go! Seriously, stop it, people’re gonna lump me in with you at this rate! I’ll do it; I’ll buy you something! Salvation is yooours!”
And a few minutes later...
“H-Here, hope you’re happy with this,” I said, holding one of the buns out to her.
“Good enough, I guess!”
“Why do I have to go through this crap? Seriously...”
Getting your hands on a single item from the store’s hard enough, and securing two took some serious toil on my part. Meanwhile, Little Miss Can’t-Be-Bothered relaxed out in the safe zone and couldn’t even concern herself with thanking me properly for my valiant effort.
“I want the honey one!” she pouted.
“Demanding, much?”
“Come on, I’ll pay for it and everything.”
“You’d better! You’re not getting either of ’em if you don’t!”
“The honey one, please!”
“Fine, fine.”
Seriously, what drives this girl to be such a belligerent little gremlin? I reluctantly handed over the honey-margarine bun I bought, and she passed me a hundred yen coin in return. Part of me wanted to shake her down for sales tax, but screw it, not worth the effort.
“All right, lunchtime!” she cheered.
“Yeah, enjoy. I’m outta here.”
“Wait, what? Aren’t we gonna eat together?”
“’Scuse me? You can’t be serious. Is your brain as tiny as you are, Little Miss Yuuta?”
“‘Yuuta’? That’s a boy’s name! I’m Yuu, and I’m a girl!”
“Shut it! If you’re gonna beg me for salvation, then I get to call you whatever I want, and that means you get to be ‘Yuuta’! Deal with it!”
To all the Yuutas around the world: I’m so sorry for comparing you to this shrimpy little weirdo. C’mon, Li’l Dummy, you apologize too!
“Yuu! I’m Yuu! Not Yuuta!”
“You are you, and thou art I?”
I guess it’d have to be “I art I” to fit the pattern? Would that be, like, an us-vs-them “I’m me, you’re you” sort of deal? I wanted absolutely nothing to do with this girl’s true self, regardless.
“My name’s Yuu!”
Yuuta pulled out her student ID and flashed it at me. What is she, a cop? The card had her picture (in which she was making a hilariously serious face) on it, as well as “Class 1-A” and her name.
“Yoshi Kiyuu?”
“Yo-shi-ki! My name’s Yoshiki,” she paused, presumably for emphasis, “Yuu!”
“Ah, Yoshiki, got it. I’ll keep that in mind, Yuuta.”
“No, you won’t! You already aren’t!”
“You get to be Yuuta until you stop begging me for food. Sheesh, what kind of kouhai sends their senpai out to buy bread for them, anyway? You’re one nasty little lady.”
“I didn’t even know you were an upperclassman!”
“You’re a first-year, so everyone in this school’s either in your grade or above it! Also, you’re hella short.”
“I’m really sensitive about my height, so stop bringing it up!”
Yuuta started kicking up an absolute screaming racket, and I came to the conclusion that ignoring her entirely would be the easiest option. I did just that and started to head off towards the counseling room, buuut...
“Huh? There aren’t any classrooms down that hallway, are there? Where are you going?” the nosy girl butted in.
“Y’think you could not follow me, perhaps?”
I thought that was a pretty explicit rejection, but Yuuta just wasn’t hearing it. She walked alongside me like she thought we were friends or something. I was getting pretty annoyed at that point, but I knew that trying to drive her off would just drag me into another totally fruitless argument, so I decided to try scaring her away instead.
“Heh heh heh, this is where I spend my time...” I jerked my thumb towards the counseling room, and made sure to put on the creepiest, sleaziest grin I could manage.
“Th-The counseling room?!”
Yup, that definitely caught her off guard!
“You were a fugitive this whole time?!” she continued.
“It’s not a jail. And I haven’t actually escaped, by the way. I’m still stuck here.”
“So you’re a convict?”
“I-I’m doing my time!”
“I’m not seeing a difference.”
Yuuta opened up the counseling room’s door and strolled right in without the slightest hint of hesitation. Somebody sure marches to the beat of her own drum.
“Oh, huh, so this is what it looks like on the inside!”
“Why’re you walking around like you own the place?”
“You keep it cleaner than I expected.”
“I don’t live here!” I’m stuck here for now, sure, but I don’t live here! It’s an important distinction!
“Oh, wow, that’s a lot of worksheets.”
“Man, you found them already? I can’t stand nosy brats with good intuition.”
“Let’s see if I have this straight: you did something to make your homeroom teacher super mad, so they shut you up in here and gave you an enormous pile of worksheets to deal with. Something like that, right? And, let’s see, it looks like you have Japanese, modern lit, and classical lit worksheets, so...they’ve gotta be from Daimon-sensei, right?”
“Okay, correction—your intuition’s crazy good.”
“And all of this leads me to one single, inescapable conclusion: you, Senpai, are in class 2-B!”
“What’s a master detective like you doing in a high school?!”
She might be pocket-sized, but she’s got deductive ability to spare! Having spectacularly sussed out my grade and class, Yuuta’s eyes sparkled proudly. She looked like a little kid who really wanted to be praised by their parents. Unfortunately for her, though, it’ll take a lot more than guessing my class to get under my skin.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, sure are. I’m in 2-B.”
“All right! I figured there was a ten percent chance or so that the teacher who sent you here wasn’t your homeroom teacher after all, so I was sorta worried.”
“What numbers gave you that percentage, and where the heck’d you pull ’em from?”
Yuuta sat down in the far seat I’d previously occupied, looking incredibly pleased with herself. She tore open the plastic bag her honey bun was packaged in.
“All right, time to eat! Lunch break doesn’t last forever!”
“Sure doesn’t.”
I was too exasperated to resist anymore. It wasn’t worth the effort. Couldn’t be bothered with any more of that nonsense. It was munchin’-with-the-munchkin time! Take care to remove the little desiccant packet before you eat! Incidentally, my meal was a perfectly ordinary roll filled with pastry cream.
“Oh, by the way, Senpai...”
“S’bad manners to talk while you eat.”
“What’s your name?”
“Kunugi Kou.”
“Wow, that was surprisingly easy!”
“I’m shocked that you’re shocked by that!”
“Well, I haven’t known you for very long, but I can already tell that you’re the most contrary person I’ve ever met. I thought you’d try to dodge the question for sure.”
“You’re definitely making fun of me, aren’t you?”
“I’ll remember that, though! Kunugi Kou—I guess I’ll call you Kunugi-san, then.”
“Not even gonna deny it, huh?”
Even just learning my name was enough to make Yuuta smirk obnoxiously. We’d only met the day before, and she was already totally looking down on me (somehow). That was a first.
That was when it hit me: Yuuta was in the same class as a certain someone.
“Hey, Yuuta?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re in 1-A, right? Is Ayase Hikari in your class?”
“Hikari? She is, yeah.”
“In that case, I’ve got a question for you.”
And so my lunch break passed by...
“See, look! Two-to-one again! How do you like that, shortstuff?!”
“Grr... One more round! It’ll turn out differently this time, I swear!”
“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?!”
“What, isn’t it obvious? We’re testing the theory that if you play old maid with two people, it’ll always come down to one card vs. two... Wait, huh?”
I noticed a moment too late that a real-life old maid (my homeroom teacher) was observing our quest to discover the truth behind the card game’s secrets. I paused for a moment to assess the situation, and came to the conclusion that I, um, might’ve just screwed up pretty badly yet again.
“Psst, Yuuta! What time is it?”
“Um, looks like it’s two thirty... Wait, two thirty?! Fifth period started ages ago!”
“Uh, yeah, no duh! I told you to go to class back when the bell rang, but you said this was more important and dismissed me!”
“Wh-Whaaat? Nuh-uh, no I didn’t!”
“It’s her fault, Daimon-sensei! She dragged me into this! I wasn’t slacking off by my own free will, I swear!”
“What?! Kunugi-san, you dirty traitor! He’s lying, Daimon-sensei; he forced me into it! It’s all this smelly jerk’s fault!”
“Say what?! I don’t smell!”
“Yeah, you do! You put the ‘bad’ in ‘BO’!”
“The ‘B’ stands for ‘body,’ and I do not! I smell fantastic!”
She leaned over and sniffed me. “Nope, it’s ‘bad’ all right, at least for you!”
“Why you little...”
This pint-sized punk! Surely she realizes that even I, Kunugi Kou, famed in my homeland for my mild-mannered geniality, get angry sometimes? Because I friggin’ do! As her senpai, I figured it was high time I taught the saucy little shrimp what happens when you stick your neck out in a hierarchical society!
“Are you two done yet?” Daimon-sensei chimed in.
“Err.”
“Uwuu!”
Yuuta and I froze solid in the face of the absolute top of the local hierarchy. She smiled.
“I hope you’re ready to face the music, Kunugi. And you—you’re a first-year, right? Yoshiki, was it?”
“Aw, jeez...”
“She knows your name? You’re so screwed.”
“Whatever. Just get back to class,” sighed Daimon-sensei.
“Thank you very much, Sensei!”
“Wha?!” I screeched.
“Heh heh heh, I’ll be off, then! Have fun, Kunugi-san!” Yuuta called after me as she took off.
The runt got acquitted! I was so upset to see Yuuta skip off scot-free I actually shouted.
“This isn’t fair! Why her?!”
“Oh? You think it’s unfair, huh?”
“Ah, um, no, I...”
“Guess that means this isn’t enough worksheets to make you get the point, huh?”
“Ah, aha ha...”
After that point, my memory’s a blur. All I can say for sure is that before I knew it, the sun had set, and I was left sitting alone in the counseling room with a massive pile of (finished!) worksheets stacked atop my desk. I spent a moment staring blankly at my miserable, defeated reflection in the window, then finally dragged myself over to the staff room to turn in my work and return the counseling room’s key. When I got there, the very few remaining teachers told me that Daimon-sensei went home ages ago. That stupid hag!
It was pitch-black outside by the time I left my school. Well, not really pitch-black, of course. There were plenty of streetlights dotted here and there, and the businesses that were still open at that time of night kept their surroundings well-lit. Y’know that feeling when you look up into the starry night sky and think “the night is dark, and I am alone, isolated in a vast, uncaring universe”? Well, it’s really hard to indulge in that sort of adolescent faux-ennui when you’re in the big city and can’t swing a stick without breaking a light bulb.
I strolled home, keenly aware that with each step science takes forward, humanity as a whole loses something primal and essential. Until, that is, my brooding was interrupted by my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out and found that I had a call from a number I didn’t recognize.
“Hello?”
“Good evening, Senpai!”
“Geh. You?”
I felt myself frown reflexively. It was Ayase Hikari, who I’d given my number to earlier that very same day.
“What do you mean, ‘geh’?”
“I mean, y’know... Do you think it’s normal to call a person the same day you get their number?”
“Is it not?”
“Beats me. I don’t exactly exchange numbers with people all the time.”
“We didn’t exchange numbers at all, technically. You gave me your number and didn’t even ask for mine.” I heard her snicker. It seemed she was enjoying herself. “So, how was school today, Senpai?”
“What are you, my mom?”
“Come on, just tell me! I haven’t been going myself, so I’m curious.”
“I can think of one way to solve that problem: go to school.”
“I wouldn’t be going through all this trouble if it were that easy! Sheesh.”
“Sheesh?” Sheesh, she says! Judging by her defiant attitude, Ayase’s path to recovery was still a long one. As a general rule, people who snap back in this sort of situation are a lot worse off than people who just quietly worry about it.
More to the point, I didn’t actually have enough material to follow up on her request in the first place. Not only was I in a completely different class and grade than her, I’d also spent the day shut up in the counseling room for the mortal sin of being late. In a certain sense, I was just as much of a shut-in as Ayase herself, albeit shut into a totally different sort of place. What’s a shut-in supposed to learn from another shut-in? Nothing productive could come out of that sort of conversation.
“Ask someone who’s actually in your class. Like Yuuta, or whatever.”
“Yuuta? I don’t think there’s a Yuuta in my class, though...”
“There totally is! Y’know, the shrimpy one? Yuu, um... Yuu... Yuu something-or-other.”
“Do you mean Yuu-chan? Yoshiki Yuu?”
“Yeah, her!”
“Why do you know who Yuu-chan is?”
Yikes. She sounded weirdly forceful, there.
“Wh-Why am I getting interrogated?”
“I’m not interrogating you; I’m just asking a simple question.”
Again: what is she, my mom?! She’s definitely the sort of person who never admits they’re angry, even when they’re absolutely furious! Or at least that’s the image I got, anyway.
On second thought, though, why am I getting so worried about this? I just happened to meet Yuuta; it was a total coincidence. Then, I just happened to feed her and just happened to play cards with her. That’s all there was between us, so why was I jumping right into thinking up excuses? Hell, even supposing I did try to hit on her, there wouldn’t be any reason for me to feel guilty about it! Not that I could imagine hitting on her in the first place.
“We just randomly met and ended up chatting.”
“With Yuu-chan, of all people? That’s hard to believe.”
“Of all people?” Where’d that come from? I didn’t exactly know her super well, but I hadn’t gotten the impression that talking to me was out of character for her at all. From everything I’d seen, she was just a cheeky, selfish moron. Why would her talking to me be a surprise...? Were Ayase and I even talking about the same Yuu?
Hmm. Wait, are we really talking about the same Yuu? It couldn’t be...?!
“Does she have...a twin?!”
“She’s an only child. Are you an idiot, Senpai?”
Was that last comment really necessary?
“...I was kidding.”
“Heh heh, were you?”
“What’s so funny?”
Was it the joke? Had I actually tickled her funny bone with that one? Like, really? I was genuinely astonished that there was another human being out there who shared my totally mediocre sense of humor. And to think it’d be her, of all people! Call me Michael Jordan, ’cause apparently that joke was a slam dunk!
“I was just thinking that if we can make stupid, pointless small talk like this, it must mean we’ve gotten pretty close to each other!”
“...That’s not funny.”
So much for my joke! So much for my sense of humor! I thought I scored a slam dunk, but turns out I was traveling the whole time! Forgive me, Mikey, for I have sullied your name!
“You don’t have to be all shy about it,” Ayase said.
“I’m not shy! Look, okay, lemme set this straight. I’m your senpai; you’re my kouhai. You went through a pretty out-there experience and got hurt, and I was gallant and kindhearted enough to offer to help you. That’s all there is to it.”
“Yeah, I know. So hurry up and save me, Senpai!”
“Is it just me, or is that way more intense a way to put it than ‘help me’? Cut it out! I’m really not good at dealing with intense word choices like that!”
“Intense words, huh? Like ‘genocide’?”
“Is ‘genocide’ seriously the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the phrase ‘intense word choices’? Related: is something wrong with your brain?”
“Why don’t you take a look in my head and find out?”
How?! Holy crap, this girl’s blowing past “proactive” and “friendly” and heading straight for “ax murderer”!
“Just kidding! Tee hee—gotcha!”
“Oh, shut it. Besides, this whole conversation’s been a joke so far.”
“You’re horrible, Senpai! Just when our little chat was getting lively... Also, I really meant the part about saving me, y’know?”
Ayase bantered away into the phone, obviously enjoying herself wholeheartedly, and I couldn’t hold back a sigh.
“Sounds like you’re doing pretty well, at this point. Don’t you think you’d be fine going back to school?”
“Definitely not! Just talking with a boy over the phone for this long is making me break out in hives!”
“Oof, sounds rough. Guess I’d better let you go, then.”
“No, I’m lying! That wasn’t true! I’m fine!”
“You should really think twice before you lie like that. Didn’t your mother teach you that lying’s a slippery slope to a life of crime?”
“I could say literally the exact same thing to you.”
Hey, whoa, time out! I’m a man who’s famed for his honesty—no way I’d ever lie! But, supposing I had lied about something at some point, just hypothetically...what “lie” was she talking about? Could I really even say for sure what counted as “the truth” and what counted as “a lie” in the first place? Doubt it! There are as many “truths” as there are people on the planet, and the idea of objective truth is in and of itself an objective lie!
“Let’s put that conversation on hold for now, Senpai. Are you coming over again tomorrow?”
“Coming over where?”
“To my house, of course!”
“I have no idea why that’d be a matter of course, and why would I go over to your house? Not like I have anything to do there.”
“You’re a real scalawag, aren’t you?”
“Archaic word choice, much?!”
I was getting the distinct feeling that she was making fun of me, and dealing with that attitude of hers was exhausting. I don’t dislike spending energy on these sorts of shenanigans, as a general rule, but I’d already had to deal with Ayase in the morning, the shortest girl on the planet at lunchtime, and worksheet hell in the afternoon. I had no intention of letting my day become an exhaustion sandwich made with Ayase bread.
I really was worn out—the spitting image of the sort of Japanese businessperson (read: corporate slave) who works from early morning till late at night, pitied by the entire world for their miserable life of hardships. That sort of lifestyle’s overambitious for a student, and, more importantly, is excruciating in all sorts of ways. I wasn’t even getting paid! No sick leave either!
“Okay, but for real, I’ve gotta go soon.”
“Oh? Okay, then—good night, Senpai!”
She hung up before I had the chance. I could tell from her tone of voice alone that she was grinning at the end too. I double-checked my phone, making absolutely sure the call was over, then sighed. Much as I hated to admit it, we had a good rapport with each other. I’d honestly enjoyed the conversation. I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less from the leading man’s little sister, but I knew I couldn’t let this burgeoning relationship carry on any further.
After all, I’m an extra! I’m the protagonist’s sidekick, at absolute best! Ayase Hikari has the makings of a genuine heroine, and there’s no way someone like me could be a good match for her. But some weird quirk of karma keeps bringing us together. One thing’s for sure: if I want to cancel our current relationship and reset things to the way they should be, I can’t just sit on my heels and wait it out. I’m gonna have to actively bring things to a conclusion, one way or another.
On the one hand you’ve got me, the rando who just happened to save her from a rampaging flasher. On the other you’ve got her, the girl who was traumatized into truancy but at the same time keeps trying to get closer to me. Our relationship is awkward and half-baked, but there has to be a hint in there somewhere that’ll let me unravel the mystery that is Ayase.
By all ordinary standards, even if I do occupy the coveted “best friend” role, a sidekick like me never gets the girl, let alone the protagonist’s sister. But even if I’m just set dressing, I am also a human being, more or less. I’m not exactly happy about getting unilaterally toyed with for someone else’s amusement, and that goes double when it puts my status as the lead’s best friend at risk. I worked really friggin’ hard to get myself into this position, and there’s no way in hell I’m taking on a side role that could threaten it!
I knew exactly what I had to do, and I felt a grin creep across my face. If I looked into a mirror at that moment, I bet I’d have seen a demon staring back at me...
“Mwa ha ha... You’ll regret making light of me, I promise you... It’s time for me to show you my true power!”
My bold declaration echoed away into the stygian depths of the night... Okay, no, it sort of hovered awkwardly in the light of the streetlamps.
Ding-a-ling!
Then a bicycle’s bell drowned it out. Some random guy pedaled past me.
“Heh!” he chuckled.
“Hey, what’re you laughing at?! That was my big moment, you jerk! Mind your own business! And get a damn light for your bike! The cops are gonna haul you in if they catch you riding around without one! Dumbass!”
I chewed him out before I could stop myself. I couldn’t really tell if he actually heard me or not, but as I watched him pedal off into the well-lit distance, I could only think one thing:
Man, I sure am glad he didn’t get pissed and turn around.
