Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Dark Sarcasm ❯ The Lie of Love ( Chapter 11 )

The school trip was announced, and Tobe the hairband entered the Service Club with the assistance of Hayama the Chad, allegedly as moral support.

“I kinda like Ebina, you know, see, and like I want to confess to her but like I don’t want to like, get like, you know, rejected because that would like, you know, kinda you know, like,” he explained in his particularly incoherent way.

“Tobe,” glared Yukinoshita, “No woman wants so many unclear words directed at her, for any reason. If you actually like her, and actually want her to respond to you, you will need to speak clearly.”

I cringed at this. Tobe Kakeru managed to pass the Soubu entrance exams, so he’s not actually stupid, even if his particular social image implies this. It’s his pickup method. I’m reasonably sure he gathers Hayama’s leftovers now and then, so he wasn’t a blushing virgin despite the stammering. However, leftovers are leftovers, and Hina Ebina is a really strange target when you actually know her. Looks aside, and you have to set those aside after the first time she starts one of her spastic BL fantasies and erupts with blood, her personality is warped and offensive to any male. She knew this. And Tobe had to know this too. Offering interest despite this was either noble or self-destructive and doomed to failure. The looks I detected between Yuigahama and Hayama were passing volumes of information.

There are two ways I can deal with this problem. I can help the tragedy along or I can exploit it for humor value, openly mocking it to stop it from getting worse. The latter option is actually the better moral choice in this case.

“Tobe, is there a particular virtue you appreciate in Ebina not available in the MANY other girls you’ve met while associating with the very charismatic and popular Hayama san?” I asked him, enjoying Hayama’s glare. I don’t envy you, Hayama. Your path of Chadism is just sad to me. They’re all the same. Why can’t you understand that?

“Ebina is like, so real, you know?” Tobe answered. He didn’t stammer quite as much. This was honest.

“Ebina fears men, Tobe,” I explained slowly. “That’s why she likes BL so much. It’s a huge cope for a broken mind. Our country doesn’t believe in mental health problems but Ebina has them. There’s a movie about this… Benny and Joon, with the male actor from those pirate movies. Watch it tonight. Then come here tomorrow to explain what you learned.” Yui and Yukino were just staring at me, mouths opening and shutting like fish. I calmly returned their stares and watched Tobe and Hayama leave.

The following afternoon in the Service Club I sipped my tea while Yui and Yukino discussed the movie they’d watched together. It was on streaming, so they’d seen it. It was 20 years old, American, and about the struggles of caring for a girl with mental health problems. It was a tragedy, of course. Tobe and Hayama arrived. Tobe looked broken with fatigue.

“Is it really like that?” he finally asked me.

“With madgirls? Probably. There’s good reasons men don’t date them. We don’t want the hassles and grief. All her problems become your problems. If you try and help her and you don’t know what you are doing then she could get worse. Or she might get better for a little while, but then get a lot worse. Ebina has Miura acting as her guardian to keep her safe. Adding a man into that mix will wreck things for your group, won’t it? What will Ebina be like after Soubu, when she’s alone and barely functioning? This isn’t your job, and it would be a full time job to look after her. How would you pay the rent and keep up a job if you have to keep leaving work to deal with her outbursts? How would she be a mother if she loses control of herself? Would she ever let you touch her when she’s so afraid of men and pregnancy? All paths lead to failure.”

“I wanted someone just to myself,” he miserably explained.

“Then you’ll have to approach a girl who isn’t interested in your best friend,” I reminded him, looking at Hayama, who was looking at Yukino sadly. She was an icy mask, as usual.

“Someone who is just for you means someone who doesn’t see Hayama as a tasty treat, or an experiment in physical pleasure, or a walking sex toy with blonde hair. Someone who likes your look, your voice, your way of being. Changing yourself to be someone she’ll like is a rabbit hole of misery, and will eventually break you and erupt into the usual 80% divorce rate of this country. Women who change themselves, hide who they are, generally drop the mask after marriage and find that they are no longer pleasing to their husband, and they end up cheating until it is too much work to pretend to be married anymore, and then divorce. She gets half, or more, and the kids grow up broken and damaged without a father. This is inevitable if you tried with Ebina. It is inevitable if you deal in any of Hayama’s discards,” I explained, staring at Hayama, who flinched, angry.

“Real love is rare, and love that lasts is nearly impossible. The only marriages that last anymore are the arranged kind, where loveless couples are prevented from divorcing by their own families. And I’m sure you don’t want that, right?” I asked Tobe, returning my gaze to him. He looked hopeless.

“Of course, you might just use Ebina and discard her, like Hayama does to all the first years that he sleeps with, once. You could do that, and she’d be traumatized and even more convinced she was right about men all along, and get worse. Or you could choke down your feelings, get rid of them some other way, and move on to girls who aren’t as obviously crazy. And you can eventually decide if you’re going to Chad it up or go for serial marriage like everyone else. And our country dies just that little bit more.”

“Hikki,” complained Yuigahama, “do you really think the world is that way?”

“It would be nice if the world were like all the stories of romance and love. It would. But you can’t change the facts. Propaganda about love is just propaganda, something meant to keep the machine of real estate and debt to continue by throwing young people into that meat grinder of lies.”

“But I feel love!” Yui insisted, sobbing.

“You feel love now. How about a year from now? Two years? How about three months from now? How about next week? Women’s emotions are temporary, and men go mad from sex. But then it’s over and they regain clarity. Or they are supposed to. We see examples where the clarity never returns,” I said, glaring at Hayama once more. He glared back, proud. So proud. Half the girls in the school had been with him, if the rumors were true. And what sort of accomplishment is that, really? They were still destined to be cat ladies who wasted their fertile years on career advancement and die alone.

“Even the nicest girls are here at this school for a career. And Hayama is satisfying their curiosity, probably in the worst way. These girls around us aren’t here to get married and have kids after graduation. They are here for a college recommendation, for the eventual degree and career. They aren’t going here to be moms someday. They have already discarded that future. So Hayama might just be all they ever get, until they are Christmas Cake nobody wants anymore. You want love, and a chance to date and ask a girl you like to be yours. Pick someone else. That is my advice, Tobe-san.” I settled back into my uncomfortable public-school chair and glared between Hayama and Tobe, while Yui snuffled nearby.

Tobe rose uncomfortably, bowed formally, turned and left. Hayama glared at me, then followed his friend, shutting the sliding door quietly.

“Well, that was amazingly hostile,” commented Yukino to the room. She flipped open her book of poetry and shook with nerves while she tried to calm herself with sixteenth century monk’s words about streams and flowers. Good luck.

I wish Haruno were here. I like arguing with her. These high school girls are too fragile. I opened my laptop and typed up my essay on upper class reproduction and the population decline being directly proportional to women’s education. This country is doomed.