Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Dark Sarcasm ❯ School Festival Planning ( Chapter 9 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

NINE

 

School began again. My foot blisters were pink scars on top of my feet. Not great. I hoped they would heal fully in time. I wore thicker socks and laced my shoes properly so they wouldn’t rub in the wrong places. Cycling to school was a joy, as usual. It beat walking or dealing with the bus when you just want to be alone. I found Yukino in the stairwell, posed as she tended to, like an elegant statue. It seemed suspiciously timed, but our meetings tend to be like this. I think this bothers me more than I want to admit to myself. We greeted each other in our typical cold way, no sniping jokes in public.

“See you at club,” I promised. We went our separate ways. Yes, she lied to me. No, I am not happy about this. Yes, I am disappointed in her lying to me. No, I am also disappointed in myself for not seeing this coming. Women are famous for lying to men, and each other. This is a truth as old as our species. Monogamy is an invention to stop Banditry. It is not our true nature.

Classes were the usual series of lectures. I wrote essays when I got bored. More about the fragile relationships found in education, when so much is arbitrary, all is temporary, and nothing holds still for long. Japan is obsessed with sakura blossoms because they’re a metaphor for transitory things, like youth. I despise youth, and I despise it because I’m in the midst of it and it genuinely sucks. I don’t know what I’m doing or what to do, people refuse to tell the truth about important things, old people think it’s CUTE. It isn’t cute. There is nothing cute about being a teenager. Being a teenager is ambition without direction or skill. You’re just big enough to hurt yourself really badly.

If I’d been raised wrong, and had no sister to feel responsible for, if I’d been like Hayato, Soubu would be a banquet of girls. A series of meaningless distractions, of embarrassing moments of shame. I really don’t know why he does it. How is simple enough. He’s an athlete, the best in the school this year, but why is another question. After a few, aren’t they all just the same? Isn’t the idea of an emotional connection more important than simply repeating the physical with a series of girls, all of them pretty much alike? Or is that the reason? So he doesn’t have to feel anything for those he test drives? Is Hayama just dead inside? And if so, I pity him. I won’t promise to understand women enough to think they’re fainting flowers of beauty, but Yukinoshita certainly does it often enough I keep looking for a candid camera, and I keep catching times where Yuigahama is giving her a run for her money. And these two spend time alone with me in the same room. Sitting three meters away, but still, in the same room alone. Am I just that unthreatening that I don’t even register as a man? Yes, that is exactly the case. Sigh.

I really need to let go of this narcissistic tendency of mine to get all self-conscious near pretty girls. I’ll be going to college eventually, study something, end up doing something to make enough money to survive. All these kids are doing the same thing, wasting their youth studying so they can have careers and be childless. If I was shallow that wouldn’t bother me at all. I would just think this is how things are. If my sister comes here, climbs the escalator to college and an office manager job at some company, is she going to only care about her career until it is so late in life she can’t get married or have kids? Is that her future? If that’s her choice, do I have the right to talk her out of it? Do I have to right to do that for anyone who chose to attend this school voluntarily? And all those girls looking pretty, vulnerable, wanting to date Hayama once… this is their choice. This is what they want. It’s like watching the Heike clan suicide on their defeated warships, drowning themselves, one after another. Soubu is not kind. It gives people what they want, and what they want is a career, at the cost of everything and everyone else. The entire situation is structured this way.

It’s like being told today, by sensei, that I was the man responsible for the cultural festival committee representative for our class. No girl wanted to step up and work with me. Even Yuigahama was hesitant to deal with it. I suspect it will be a lot of work. I am not a fan of useless effort. And I certainly don’t want to deal with any dingbats. If it’s Saki, I’d have real support. The dumb girls though? The chattering nitwits? No thanks. I’d resign no matter what Sensei says.

They were debating that now. I am not pleased. I glowered at the nerd up at the board and gave him a scowl. He shuddered, but he didn’t stop.

I heard bitching back and forth between Miura and Sagami, the twit I’d faced down on my date with Yuigahama at the festival a week ago. Sagami was getting cornered into the job after trying to force Yui into it. If Yui didn’t want the job, she had her reasons and I’ll respect them. I finally turned around and glared.

“Oi! What’s all the noise? This will be work, and the jabbering is making me angry. If Yui doesn’t want the job, she’s got her reasons, so stop being brats. I know two girls here fit to do this job with me, and neither has spoken up. How about it Saki, Ebina?” I demanded heatedly. The class went silent at my outburst.

“Ehh?” responded Miura. Sagami thankfully shut her mouth and bowed her head. Nuisance girl. Ebina sighed, murmured something to Miura briefly and stood up.

“Okay. I can do this, unless Saki wants it,” answered Ebina. Saki was blushing, but shook her head no.

“So that’s Ebina Hina and Hikigaya Hachiman as our class reps for the cultural festival,” said the nerd with relief.

Later we met at the Student Council room with all the other class reps. There is an ongoing shouting match over who would be the cultural festival president and lead the whole thing. Ebina tugged at my sleeve and looked at me making eyes about the discussion.

“No, I’m busy enough. So are you. Let someone else chase glory. We can focus on our class’s contribution and keep things sane,” I suggested to her. She looked crestfallen, but she has other responsibilities. And she’s got deadlines for that BL manga I just KNOW she’s drawing for Winter Komiket.

“Oh, c’mon, Hachiman. You could totally run this,” she insisted.

“You just want someone to rubber stamp your ideas out of exhaustion without thinking them through. Getting other people to do what you like is a lot harder than just making your deadlines,” I reminded her. She frowned at this.

“Fine. But you owe me,” she decided.

“I owe you? What’s your idea for our class project?” I asked her, suspicious now.

“A play. I want to throw a play based on Little Prince, with you and Hayama as the lead roles,” she said, and drool started leaking out of her mouth.

“No. Really no. Ask Totsuka. He’d make a good Prince to Hayama’s pilot. And keep it really short, maybe 10 minutes so everybody can memorize their lines and we don’t have to do a scene change,” I countered. Hina paused, considering this.

“That would work. Those are good ideas. How’d you get so good at stuff like this?” she asked me.

“Service Club volunteer work. We set people on fire,” I said in English. Hina laughed at this. I’d forgotten she speaks English as well as I do.

“Don’t ever change, Hachiman,” she urged merrily.

“I urge us to decline taking on any paperwork, forms, or other nonsense which will waste our time and try our patience. Do you agree? We both have better things to do than enable idiots,” I told her in English. She was a moment translating this and then nodded in agreement. I smiled. She grinned. We sat in our seats at the back of the room and let them argue and debate and eventually Yukino was made the president. I sighed.

“Fukoudah,” I swore. “I’m going to have to help Yukinoshita. My dreams of lying flat are ruined.”

I approached her and she stared at me, slightly surprised.

I stared back. I won’t be outdone. She stared. I stared. We stared, waiting to see who would blink. I yawned.

“So you need my help,” I stated. She gestured at the chair beside her, the VP seat. The group stopped debating who was going to shoulder the VP job. I sighed. This is going to be exhausting.

“Let’s get a list of activities each room is doing,” Yukino said in her commanding but soft voice.

“I see you got Ebina Hina to help you,” Yukino murmured after my classmate reported we’d be doing a stage play, 10 minute run time, only one set. “And you’ve kept it reasonable.”

“She wanted to cast me and Hayama in a BL story, but I offered up Totsuka instead. I’ll be too busy to act, now.” Yukino gave me a look.

“You don’t have to justify this to me,” she said.

“Be glad. We almost got Sagami instead, and I can’t stand that girl. She’s so useless. She would have screwed up the entire project, I feel certain,” I explained. “I demanded either Ebina or Saki do this with me.”

“Really?” asked Yukino, a perfectly raised eyebrow.

“Well, they have talents in this direction. Saki can sew. And Ebina understands deadlines and has an eye for production. If Saki had won we’d probably be doing a Maid Café or something. With Miura and Yuigahama pulling in customers it would have been a hit. The play should be fine because I suggested she keep it short. And she took my suggestions.”

“Why did she do such a strange thing?” asked Yukino, curious.

“They were good suggestions,” I answered. “And speaking of suggestions: why are you the president of this committee?”

“I was tired of them arguing. And my sister did this before,” she answered.

“Is that really a good reason? Because your sister did it? She’s going to tease you for this,” I pointed out. Sensei was texting someone. I quietly pointed to her. “How long will it take for Haruno to get here after Shizuka-san sends that text?”

Yukino blinked, stared and sighed. “Around twenty minutes, depending where she is.” I used my phone to start a timer counting using the stopwatch function. I left it open on the table so we could both watch it while we went through the work.

“Is there a reason we’re using paper for this project? Wouldn’t Gaagle documents work better?” I asked her after stuff started to pile up.

“It needs to be in writing for blame to be assigned properly,” Yukino answered without a hint of sarcasm. She had perfected this kind of dry delivery any manzai team would cherish.

Haruno arrived loudly. I tapped the stopwatch and noted it had taking twenty seven minutes and forty-seven seconds between text message and showing up to spoil our party. There was probably traffic, or maybe a class finishing at Chiba University. Chiba has four universities, including Chiba Institute of Technology, started during World War Two and moved four times before returning to Chiba after reconstruction. It was famous for robotics, but also as the university featured in Ah Megami Sama! Haruno is apparently a science major, though she hasn’t said what she’s majored in.

“Thank you for arriving, sister,” Yukino said drily. Haruno got introduced by the current student council president, who was the former understudy to the overpowering personality of Haruno. She’s a challenging woman, daring you to face her down, to tell her no, to wall slam her despite her constant disingenuous flirtation. And she was utterly fake. And played 4D chess with everyone around her. What you see is what she wants you to see, and the lesson imparted is probably something else. I need a Max Coffee to stay awake for her performance. And then I remembered I had one in my book bag, so retrieved it, lukewarm, and shook it well, before snapping open the pop-top and taking a long drink. My eyes opened wider from the heavy dose of caffeine. Better. No man should face a woman like Haruno completely himself. She wasn’t a sweetheart like Yuigahama or Saki, blushing virgins both of them.

I turned to regard Yukino. She had shifted her frown to cold indifference, which knowing her as I do from daily exposure meant she was angry. You can tell because she’s showing nothing at all. The angrier she gets, the calmer she looks. Haruno was grinning widely, acting over the top friendly, which in my limited experience means she’s here to cause trouble. Sigh. Do I interfere or just watch the show? Would Yukino object to me getting between these two angry cats? I opt for cowardice and just watch the exchange.

“So, Yukino… following in my footsteps again?” she taunted. I knew she’d say that. I warned her she’d say that. Haruno turned to regard me then, her lips curling into a sly smile. “I see you’ve arranged your usual minion as well.” Sigh.

“Right. I’m not having this,” I said, bending down, grasping Haruno around the waist and lifting her into a fireman’s carry over my shoulder. Turns out those First Aid classes were useful after all.

“What are you doing?” yelled Haruno.

“Removing a problem,” I grunted. Yukino actually laughed out loud then as the committee stared. I carried Haruno out of the room.

“Poot! And I had all sorts of fun planned!” insisted Haruno cutely.

“You aren’t fooling me, Haruno-san. You were here to teach Yukino some kind of lesson by lighting a fire and then throwing gasoline on it. I already put one of those out earlier today. And now I have to do it again. Oof.” I put her down by the drinks vending machines, steadying her on her feet as her color returned to normal. She is a lovely women up close. A pity that it only distracts from the person underneath.

“You know, you’re an attractive looking woman. It’s a pity you’re just so mean,” I pointed out. “You’re like the reverse of me.”

“Are you claiming to be nice?” she asked sweetly, sarcastically.

“No. But you aren’t all evil either. Yukino wouldn’t speak to you if she knew you were just Darkness manifested in human form. I understand the desire to help a younger sibling. I’m an older brother myself."

“Are you now? Really, is that so?” she asked, getting into my personal space cutely. Her mask is annoying.

“Stop it Haruno. People say Hate Sex is addictive, and I don’t want my first time with someone pushing my buttons for a laugh.” She blinked, backing off, face going blank.

“Really now!” she huffed.

“When I first met Yukino, she told me about her school shoes being stolen and how self aware she is about her looks. It was annoying, and meant to evoke pity, probably in hopes I’d take my ugly mug somewhere else. However, we’ve come to tolerate each other. Then I met YOU, and saw where my bad attitude will take me if I just fake it till I make it. You’re the warning to others. And I can see in your eyes you’re well aware of this, though perhaps not many people can afford to tell you this to your face. People worried about offending your father, or worse, your mother.” Her breath caught at this comment, so that had struck home.

“You are pretty on the outside, so maybe you’ve been pushing boundaries to see what you can get away with. See what your parents will cover up for. See what will get their full attention as parents rather than politicians. Ah, I see that hit close to home,” I said, watching her twitch a bit more.

“I doubt I’m the only one to see this in you. It isn’t hard to work out. I’m only a teenager, but sensei insists I’m unusually perceptive, which is probably why she won’t leave me alone.” Haruno flushed.

“Stop that. If you’re feeling a pitter patter it just means you’re afraid of me. That isn’t attraction, no matter what your friends say,” I taunted. She got control of herself.

“So you aren’t just a minion, then,” she said.

“What’s your poison?” I asked her, knowing her throat was dry from her voice. Nobody likes being told off, especially if it’s true. I gestured to the vending machines.

“Sparkling melon, with gin,” she answered. I bought her a sparkling melon, and a second popped out. I’m a winner. Yay.

“Sorry I don’t have any gin for you.” We drank, staring at each other.

“If you’d been born a few years earlier,” she started to say.

“Then I’d probably be even more exciting for sensei.” Haruno made a face, then nodded agreement. I sipped the strange melon flavored fizzy drink and tried to imagine it with the mess of herbs used in gin.

“Yes, gin and a slice of lime and some big ice cubes. I could see it. Hemingway was a big fan of the Mojito, which uses mint, rum, sweet syrup, and sparking soda water, with ice. He drank it in Havana, before the revolution,” I mentioned.

“You’re well read,” she admitted.

“I love literature. All the bitterness of life condensed into words others can learn from. The more you read, the more lives you experience, and you multiply and leverage that perspective in your own life. I help your sister solve problems. She doesn’t always like the way I do things, and I’m probably going to disappoint her in the future by being right when it’s uncomfortable. You really push her about her relying on people.”

“I’m trying to make her able to stand up for herself. She has a goal, and I’m a caged bird. Neither one of us is happy with how things are,” Haruno said, choosing not to be specific.

“I take it gentle doesn’t work with someone so hard-headed?” I questioned. She shook her head no.

 “Yukino put her foot down three years ago and demanded her own apartment rather than live with us any longer. She’s isolated and reinforcing her wrong-thinking into a terrible lifestyle of loneliness and regret.”

“You show every sign of being sick of all the attention and socializing. Doesn’t loneliness appeal?” I asked her. She frowned.

“I don’t have the option. I’m the eldest. I’ve been put forward as the good girl who is the cute face of my father’s political career, chatting up the guests at parties, fending off drunken advances of men who should know better, and I’m truly sick of it. Yukino wants my job, but she isn’t up for it. Not yet.”

“Can you make your circus a little more circumspect rather than rope me into this disaster you’re planning?” I requested. Haruno got into my face again, looking me hard in the eye.

“Sorry. You’ll just have to cope, Hachiman.”

I sighed. “You’re better like this, Haruno. Try honesty more often. Sincerity suits you,” I answered. She laughed then and stormed away, muttering about Gin and difficult men.

“You’re wasted on my sister, Hachiman,” she shouted near the committee doors. I sighed. They’d all hear that. And she did that on purpose, winking at me before storming away.

I entered the room, and everyone was staring. I realized that I smelled of Haruno’s perfume from carrying her. So embarrassing. I sat down in my VP chair and gave Yukino a look. She glared back.

“Meeting is adjourned,” she announced. Sensei was giving me speculative looks, and Ebina was drooling over her notebook, probably writing up screenplay notes for her project.

Sigh. Just kill me now.