Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Bitter And Murky ❯ School Trip ( Chapter 10 )
School Trip
The Shinkansen is fascinating. As technology it is world famous. It is fast, reliable, and safe. It is heavy equipment with considerable materials and engineering science applied to make it work properly. With all the math I’ve learned, and once again getting the #1 top student position, I appreciate it more, not less. I know enough to understand some of how great an achievement the Shinkansen really is.
The countryside whipped past us at over 320 kilometers per hour. Due to speed, it was more comfortable to stay seated while it swayed and leaned through corners for several hours, between Tokyo and Kyoto station, our destination. Kyoto Station is another feat of engineering. It is one of the largest interior atriums in the world and is so large it actually generates weather inside, including rain. Arriving there I encountered no rain, but it is certainly an impressive building and I snapped some pictures with my phone before we maneuvered out to our tour buses and into Kyoto’s outskirts. As a historical city, the actual streets are too narrow for buses or cars and most people merely walk them, which is part of their fun. Every corner has some historical building, marker, or other valuable piece of history programmed into our phones, which acts as tour guides. It even plays audio explanations over the headphone, if we choose to listen.
Naturally, there is also a certain service club activity regarding the love life of one Hairbanded idiot from our class. Yui had taken over managing the quest I was utterly disinterested in. I was still coping with the confessions of both my club-mates during the festival, and wondering how to let them down without wrecking our working relationship together. There isn’t an easy way to say “I don’t want to pay your child support and alimony” without coming off as a complete jerk, is there?
To be fair, Yui’s sense of romance was amusingly naïve. If I were interested in a cute girl, she’d qualify. She is the opposite of devious. Her plan to get Tobe and Shrimp together by using the various dating-couple locations, like the turning stone and the lucky water spring, and the various locations like that resulted in interference by Hayama and Drills. Shrimp had approached me for assistance privately, but I’d turned her down with a simple: “Reject him properly or accept that you’re a coward.” She went with the latter, of course.
The haunted house of bloody ghosts was with Saki right up until she freaked out and ran for it, leaving me with Yui.
“I think my sister would enjoy this place. It would give her an excuse to grab Taishi,” I said.
“He doesn’t get scared of horror?” Yui asked, gesturing in the direction Saki had fled.
“Apparently not. I don’t know Saki well enough to know why she hates horror so much, but everybody has preferences,” I answered.
“So Hachiman, I’ve been wondering what you thought of my singing during the festival,” Yui said, obviously. A man in a costume grabbed my arm through a paper screen, then let go. I paused, then walked on, considering the answer.
“You’ve got a strong voice and you’re pretty much on key. You might have a future in that, maybe as a hobby on WePipe,” I said.
“Not that, Hikki!” she objected. I looked at her, frustrated face red with embarrassment. So it was time then?
“I think you’re a nice girl, Yui. And if I was a nice boy I’d go for you. My feelings about marriage are complicated. And I am not a fan of the things Japanese women do while their husbands are working to pay the bills. Things like cheating, or demanding a divorce because she is bored.”
“But I wouldn’t do that!” she insisted. A ghoul reached for Yui suddenly but she ignored him.
“You say that now, but 80% of Japanese people have divorced, and most of those are filed by the wife. Most Japanese adults will marry four or five times each. The feelings you have right now? They won’t last. No matter how strongly you feel them now. And you’re a nice girl. Think of all those women who sneer at men, or plan their divorces before they get married. Imagine how many ex-husbands Haruno will have, or Yukino. We like Yukino, as a friend, but can you imagine how her demeanor would affect a marriage? The only woman I know who has a track record of raising children is Saki.”
“Does that mean you’re going after Saki?” Yui asked, on the verge of tears.
“No, I just mean she’s actually helped raise her younger siblings. For all I know, her passion for fashion and plans for her future means she won’t seek a husband until she’s too old to have kids, which is another thing that Japanese women do. Sensei should have three kids at her age, but she’s lonely because of her attitude to men. Nobody has picked her. She chose not to make room in her life for a husband, so she doesn’t have one, and in a few years she’ll be too old to have kids and too old for a husband.”
“But Hachiman, I’m not too old. I want to be a bride. I’d be your bride if you’d have me,” she insisted.
“And if I was a nice boy we’d get married, and start a family while I went off to college and you’d gradually get bored, and complain that our apartment is too small to raise our children, and your girlfriends would tell you how easy it is to live as a single mom with government support and this great divorce attorney they know, and before you know it you’ve broken our marriage, broken my heart, taken half my earnings for the next 20 years and left me on the verge of suicide. That’s what actually happens to millions of men, every year. Men kill themselves after their wives divorce them. I’m amazed that women live with the shame, but perhaps they don’t feel shame, or maybe they never loved him in the first place and it was always about the money. So you see? That’s the true horror in the house of horror. And you’re a nice girl.” I patted her hand and she stumbled out into the sunlight beside me, looking lost and confused.
Saki was nearby trying to calm her heart, while our classmates looked bemused by people’s different reactions to the House of Horror.
Part of me is amused at the sheer audacity of female “marriage counselors” who claim that men pointing to the marriage statistics in Japan are just catastrophizing and need “therapy” to “get over their personal trauma” and never ever address the fact the statistics are true and marriage is a really bad deal for men. In this one thing, Japan leads the world. We have the most divorces, and the third highest suicide rate. Such a thing to be proud of.
I need coffee. Black murky coffee. I head for the smell of coffee and find a local shop, ordering a pour-over and wait while they make it. It was even a reasonable price. I sip the hot beverage and absorb the wonderful rainforest chemicals into my senses. It is slightly bitter. It is murky, swirling in deep browns. It is what I need at a time like this.
I can’t figure out women’s problems or their needs without exposing myself to disaster. I think there’s a man out there for Yui, willing to take the chance that she’s his, rather than it is just his turn, and she won’t grow bored, use him, discard him, and take his money. These things happen so often, and there’s no cultural consequences for the woman. She isn’t shunned or forced to live in poverty. They don’t award the children to the father, though perhaps they aren’t his in the first place, but the courts still expect him to pay, without proof. That’s the reality of marriage. That’s the brutal truth. I took my cup and found I was near the Mother and Cubs rock display. Yukino and several of her arrogant classmates were sitting there. I joined her.
“Ah, Hachiman. You look smug. Did you hurt someone’s feelings again?” Yui said sarcastically.
“I do enjoy our verbal jousting, Yukino-san. Did you want a turn after seeing the results from our last exams?” I teased. The muscle above her jaw flexed. There’s no red X flashing, but it is close enough.
“I suppose I should congratulate you on once again placing first, with the highest exam scores. Truly an achievement to rival my sister, who did the same thing all three years she attended Soubu.”
“That’s her. We were talking about you. How do you feel?” I asked her.
“Like my pointed remarks during the festival were overlooked. I am uncertain how to take that,” she answered more obliquely than Yui.
“Well, if I were a man who appreciated a complicated girl, you’d be at the top of my list. But as I told Yui, my feelings on relationships and the Legal System are complicated. It goes against my interests and personal health and future. You each have likeable features, and aspects that are appealing. I admit to this freely. Were I ill-informed on divorce statistics I would probably take the risk with either one of you, but I AM informed, and I do know the risks, and I am a cautious man. This is not a reflection on your character, nor on Yui’s. You are both interesting friends, and were I less discerning, potentially romantic interests. I look forward to working with you the remainder of this year,” I answered finally.
“Hmph. I see.” Yukino stared at the rock garden and I sipped my coffee. I sense tension so I then rose and left the area so she could express herself in my absence. I wonder if she would curse aloud or manage to keep her cool?
Dinner was in the Tranquil Forest Hotel, semi-formal wearing the hotel robes. I’d made use of the hot spring, which was really nice, and most of the other students showed signs of having visited there after hours of walking through Kyoto. We’d be doing more of that tomorrow, too. After dinner I changed clothes for an evening walk. Kyoto in the evening is all lanterns, shadows, voices, some embarrassing noises from what I realized were brothels, koto music, mysterious processions of people wearing period garb, a few in Noh masks, a few others wearing Kitsune masks descending out of a shrine, and similar. I used my phone map to get back to my hotel after a couple hours of walking.
When I returned I found Yukino in the empty hotel lobby pondering one of those pan-san bears with the eyes that resembled mine. Then sensei showed up in a bad disguise, kidnapping us out for ramen via taxi. She had a single beer with her kitsune ramen. We had tea. It was good, a different style from that found in Chiba or Tokyo. I felt really full, having eaten dinner mere hours ago.
“So I had a meeting to counsel Yuigahama after dinner. She was pretty upset,” she said, regarding me.
“I can guess why. I had a similar conversation with him,” Yui announced quietly.
“Do you also need counselling, Yukino-san?” sensei offered, lighting up a cigarette. This being Japan, others were also smoking, which made the ramen taste of nicotine and cancer.
“I will speak with neesan,” Yukino answered.
“Is your sister going to provide sympathy, advice, or sarcasm?” I replied. Yukino stared at me.
“All three,” she said. Sensei looked between us, sighing. The nicotine was making her mind work, and the beer had relieved some of her stress. I feel like I’m going to be hearing life philosophy from someone who has already failed at both. Spare me.
“Hachiman, did you actually friend-zone both girls interested in you?” Hiratsuka finally asked, her eyebrow raised.
“What is the possible outcome of high school romance, sensei?” I asked. “Broken hearts, teen pregnancy, falling grades, lost futures, public shame. Should not such important things be deferred until such time they make sense? When positive outcomes are possible?” I asked, noting the pause in Yukino’s defeatism.
“You thought about that?” Yukino asked, confused.
“Did you think every teenage boy is nothing but lusting hormones and skin problems?” I asked her rhetorically. I can see from her expression that was a hard “yes”.
“And what about all those divorce statistics?” she said.
“Those are still true. 20% of couples stay married. Whether she stays true to him is unknown, since mandatory DNA testing is not a law here, and probably won’t be elsewhere for another fifteen years. That should cause some civil wars. Should I risk everything on 20%? Should you? What would your sister advise? And would she advise you well or to teach you a lesson about people?” I asked her. Yukino frowned. Her sister loved her, clearly, but also believed in Tough Love, from what I’d seen so far. Yukino was both determined and fragile. My rescue of her committee problems may have raised some flags, a term that my fat friend Yoshi had explained to me. It is apparently some kind of term from dating simulation games.
“Well, hopefully the three of you can decide who will be the legal one, and who will be the mistress. I need more booze. Let’s catch a cab. There’s a Lawsons near the hotel.”
A short ride later in a cab that carefully smelled of cleaning products and not tobacco and vomit, we exited in front of a Lawsons and my phone map pointed me the way. I started walking and Yukino followed several paces back. Sensei cheerfully disappeared through those doors, probably to buy herself a liter and a half of beer and some kind of snack, probably shrimp crackers or dried squid. I have no idea what snacks sensei likes. Something that goes with cigarettes and a long soak in the hot spring.
“Which way?” she asked, having gotten ahead of me at an intersection. I glanced at my phone.
“Turn right and cross here. The hotel is just down there. You can see it. You may as well walk next to me, you know.”
“Do you know why I was in the lobby?” she asked.
“To buy a Pan-san doll for your collection?” I asked, confused.
“They were talking about me,” she answered.
“Oh? Didn’t that please you?” I asked.
“They were talking about me because of what you did with the festival council, making Sagami quit. She implied that telling her off has given her confused feelings, and accused me of being your… well, something private.”
“I see. You know that men and women are different, yes?” I confirmed.
“Of course. What does that have to do with anything?” she asked.
“Everything. Men are dominant, naturally. Trying to make men submissive drives us crazy, and tends to make us more dominant. Women are naturally submissive to men, but fight for dominance with other women. Sagami wanted to be dominant over other girls for reasons of her own, but fell into submission before me because I am a man and dominant by nature. And I know about women, so I am not confused about my own nature.”
“So what you are saying is Sagami discovered she is submissive because you dominated her?” Yukino asked.
“Any man who dominated her would bring out her submissive nature. Any man who did that to you would get the same response from you. What she felt is perfectly natural. Same with you. Most likely she is confused about feeling this way for the first time, and is jealous that you get to spend more time with me, and have more of my attention. She is projecting, as women do. That’s all. She will get over it. Or get a boyfriend who dominates her the way she likes.”
“Creepy,” Yukino huffed at this summation.
“Meh. It is human nature. Just like female promiscuity. I find that creepy, but it is very common with Japanese women.”
“We’re here. You coming in?” I asked, holding the door for her. She nodded, and we entered together. Let them talk, if anyone is there to see. Nobody was.
The following morning was another fancy breakfast, a good soak in the hot spring, and more walking tour of Kyoto. I managed to find the golden palace, which is a small cabin covered in gold leaf and black lacquer. It was pretty, in an ostentatious way. Not the sort of place I would choose to live, much less own or be seen near in a serious way. I offered to take pictures of others and a stork kept getting in the way. Four times it jumped into the frame. I don’t know why that was a thing, but bystanders kept laughing.
Many interesting sites, Yuigahama and Yukino talking together in low voices. Saki joined us after lunch, and Totsuka turned up an hour later. We eventually noted Drills and Hayama near the river and he motioned me to talk to him.
“You seem to be successful keeping them apart,” I said. We were near the stepping stones that went across the river. It was a famous location much photographed by both Japanese and foreign tourists alike.
“I like things the way they are. I don’t want a brief drama that turns into uncomfortable silences in my friends,” Hayama said.
“I told her to be honest, but she refused. And Tobe refused to actually ask her. I think that cowardice speaks for itself, don’t you? There isn’t going to be a confession.”
“Tobe has been working up the nerve. I think he plans to confess this evening, after dinner, in the giant bamboo grove,” Hayama said. I thought of the place. So many pictures.
“That’s certainly a good place for it. Should I bring popcorn?” I asked him. He clicked his tongue at me.
“Do you have to be a dick?” he accused.
“She’s obsessed with BL. It would never work, even if they tried. You’ve had every chance to talk him out of this, and he’s damned himself to this defeat before the battle. The more perfect the setting and moment, the more painful the rejection will be.”
“We asked you for help.”
“And we turned you down. Only Yui has tried to help, but she’s too pure hearted for these games you play.”
“Pure hearted? I suppose from your point of view,” Hayama sighed.
“Yui is a pure hearted maiden, if ever there was one,” I insisted. “I think she’s too pure to consider Ebina beyond redemption, or Tobe too self-deluded to understand Ebina’s situation. Maybe they’re all too young to get past their issues.”
“And what about your issues?” Hayama accused, frustrated because I am right.
“We’re talking about your need to have friends who can’t change, with your greed for this moment to go on and on. Not about me, Yui, or Yukino.” I saw him wince at Yukino’s name. I knew there was something there, probably the reason she was a spitting cat when it came to him.
“Fine. Well, bring your popcorn if you must be crude. I expect tears tonight.”
We separated then and I joined my group. I bathed in the hot spring before dinner, again, ate, and dressed to witness the festivities. I did not take popcorn. But I did get a tripod with a phone mount, and set my phone to no-flash. It would probably be blurry, though the lights seemed adequate.
The mood was set. The lovers approached. There was Tobe, still in his hairband, his confession, awkward, halting, impassioned… and rejected by the uncomfortable Hina Ebina, or Shrimpy as I like to call her. Mission failed. And I don’t care. Yui looked a bit unhappy at this, and Yukino seemed indifferent. Tobe looked close to tears, and Hina scurried away, wailing. Hayama glared at me, like this was my fault. I shrugged. Doomed from the start.
“So, who wants ice cream?” I asked the girls. Yui clutched me to cry, but Yukino nodded. I escorted them out of the bamboo forest and to a little ice cream parlor I’d spotted. I got cappuchino caramel, and Yui picked Strawberry. Yukino picked peach mocha, and we ate on the bench outside, enjoying the sound of bugs, shamisen music, and distant laughter.
“Is this how life is?” Yui asked.
“How do you mean?” I responded, seeking some clarification. The question is kind of broad, after all.
“Is life a heartfelt confession, tears, and then ice cream and laughter?” she asked.
“Pretty much? We’re the same age. Hasn’t it always been like this?” I asked her. Yukino kept silent. I noticed the mochi in her ice cream were giving her trouble, requiring lots of chewing.
“But, should it be? I mean, Tobe and Ebina. They were both in tears.”
“That’s life. Do you regret feeling love? Does it feel completely hopeless? Will you someday wake up and be over it, and then get some ice cream and move on?” I asked her.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she admitted.
A dark thought, perhaps a bitter one. My ice cream is rather sweet. I wish I’d gotten the double chocolate, but too late now. I finished it and tossed the wrapper in the nearby trash can.
The trip home the next day was solemn, with dour faces on the popular kids and Yui being extra clingy on my arm.