Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Dark Sarcasm ❯ Christmas ( Chapter 13 )

THIRTEEN

“Sempaiii!” whined the redheaded girl with the overly cutesy mannerisms. She was complaining to Shiromeguri, the student council president. As most politicians who want something, she was polite, personable, and smiled easily. She was very agreeable, and gave me the sense of someone who spent a lot of time around Haruno. The devil-woman plagued my dreams, probably because she was aggressively sexual. I’d rather be having dreams about Yui, but our relationship was advancing slowly, mainly because she’s not ready to start a family, and I’m not ready to drop out of high school to get a job to pay the rent and medical bills on an unplanned baby. And I’m not kidding myself. Yui is very affectionate when she’s most fertile, and I’ve been around her enough to mark the calendar and do the math. She is orders of magnitude sweeter and more cuddly than Yukino, who mostly just glares at us with jealousy, which Yui pretends not to notice and continues to be nice to the angry girl regardless. As strategies go, this actually works and it keeps the peace in the clubroom. Or did, until Iroha showed up with a lame set of explanations about unwanted student council president nomination by the jealous bitches in her grade. I’m not doubting that jealous bitches did this. I’m doubting that Iroha is innocent of instigating this, like she claims. She’s sly, like Haruno, only she’s not as good at it. Not subtle at all. A weak understudy. I made eye contact with Shiromeguri and then rolled my eyes at Iroha’s loud denials and complaints. Meguri grinned at my gesture. She gets it.

I’ve noticed that girls mostly hate each other. They also use each other while pretending to be friends. This is more pronounced with narcissists, and less pronounced with normal women who aren’t driven by mental health problems. So the ones that marry by age 23 tend to be more sane than those who try to be a Boss Bitch and take control. Control runs contrary to female nature. That’s a masculine trait. Women pushing that have issues and they get worse the older they get, until they end up alone with a cat and piles of newspapers, and die without anyone caring about them. This is so common its not even a trope. It’s something the poor coroners probably deal with often. There’s entire businesses cleaning up apartments where old people died alone and nobody notices for months because of automatically paid utilities and rent deposits.

“Iroha-san. I believe that Yukinoshita-san has the solution to your problem,” I interrupted her stream of complaints dead. She stopped and stared. Yukino cleared her throat and stared seriously at the pale imitation of her sister.

“I will run against you. Losing to me won’t be a problem, will it?” she offered with a gleam in her eye. Yui clenched my hand with worry.

So that happened. Yukino, as the top student in all the subjects but literature (still got it), ran for and won the election. The service club largely disbanded and we said goodbye to our private room with the good light and well timed sakura petals.

It was two weeks later I got a donut at Master Donut, downtown, being there after a little trip to the mall for a gift for my sister and my girlfriend that I heard a hiss. I looked around and found Haruno, in disguise, waving me over. She peeled off a ridiculous pageboy cap and scarf and gigantic sunglasses to grin at me with mischief.

“Hey, sit here. Keep me company,” she demanded. Eh, what’s the worst that could happen. I joined her.

“Hikigaya! Yukino keeps talking about you,” she insisted.

“She say anything nice or just the usual complaints and jealousy?” I asked her. I bit into the donut. Chocolate old fashioned. Of all the donuts, this is the perfect one. Cake batter, not the gummy stuff they put under sugar glazed or pumped with cheap jam. Trimmed with extra surface area crenellations, then deep fried until crisp on the outside and soft on the inside and topped with a rind of chocolate icing to seal in the goodness. It was way too many calories, and the oil would take twelve hours to digest properly, but this place had good coffee I was enjoying and I had plans to write some essays tonight once I got home from this trip. My blog needs updates.

“Ah, Hachiman. You always know what to say. It’s the worst possible thing, but you do cut right to the heart of it. Yes, little Yukino is filled with jealousy.”

“At least she finds joy in arguing, and then gets confounded by Yui being nice to her anyway. Now that she’s running the student council, she gets to use more of her political training and skill with budgets and useless paperwork. It isn’t what I love, but I support her anyway.”

“She mentioned something about winning a contest and forcing you to support her there?” Haruno queried.

“Something like that. Shizuka-sensei did say she’d apply her own bias in the judging, and that was certainly so. By my count, I beat her four to three. Sensei claims two to three against me, because she didn’t like the outcome of two of my solutions, and wouldn’t count one since I solved it myself without submitting it via the Service Club paperwork.”

“A loss is a loss, Hachiman. I’m glad you’re there for her. Yukino is determined, but not as strong as she thinks she is. She has mother’s temperament.”

“And do you take after your father?” I asked her.

“Hahaha, you would ask that, Hikigaya,” Haruno laughed, leaning well into my personal space.

“Hikigaya? I thought that was you,” said a female voice I knew. I sighed.

“Orimoto-san,” I answered cooly. I turned to look. She and a friend I didn’t know stood in the Kaihin high school uniforms. Both had short hair, probably business appropriate, since it was the school of lower managers and yes-men. It had a bad reputation. I know this because both of my parents went there, and warned me to study hard so I wouldn’t end up there myself. They were so proud when I got into Soubu.

“Is that a Soubu uniform? Wow. You must be smart,” Orimoto exclaimed with surprise, then laughed loudly. It was annoying, and very much not business appropriate. “Is that your girlfriend?” She leaned in to stare at Haruno who met her gaze sharply, then crinkled with mischief.

“Hey, Hachiman, what am I to you anyway? Am I a girlfriend? Your mistress? An acquaintance?” she dared me.

“You’re my girlfriends’ friend’s older sister,” I suggested.

“I knew she was out of your league," taunted Orimoto and laughed again. Rude. I extracted my phone and selected the picture, shoving it in her face.

“My girlfriend,” I held it in her face to stare, expression falling. “She’s with me at Soubu, plans to be a bride rather than waste her best years in some office. She passed the exams, and we’re both on the Student Council. You wouldn’t believe the business contacts we’re making there,” I taunted her. “Our friend is the president.” I flicked to a good picture of the three of us.

“Notice the resemblance? This is Yukinoshita Haruno,” I introduced her. Haruno grinned like a poisonous snake. “She is great fun with people she likes, and rather much to deal with for people she does not.” I could see they recognized the family name from the news. I waited to see if they’d excuse themselves or would try and suck up to be a nuisance to us and our private conversation.

“Uh. Well. We’ve got things to discuss, so nice to see you again, Hikigaya,” Orimoto offered politely. She bowed with the minimum respect and withdrew to a distant table, ate quickly, and left the restaurant.

“I can see you dislike her, and there’s history,” Haruno finally said, observing me carefully.

“She’s the reason I’m bitter,” I answered. “Yukino is not the only one with negative dating history. The difference is I have Yui now. If I didn’t I’d probably be worse.”

“Don’t spoil the mystery, Hachiman. Yukino needs the NTR fantasy. Eventually you’ll get comfortable enough with Yui-chan to wander and I think my sister is waiting for that opportunity,” Haruno suggested sensually. Once more, well within my personal space.

“And do you have similar fantasies, Haruno?” I asked her, looking her dead in the eyes. She met my gaze for a ten count, then shivered.

“If you were in college I’d already have you, Hachiman. It’s only your status as a high school student which protects your virtue. Well, that and your indomitable will, which I find so very attractive,” Haruno promised, then laughed with a low chuckle that promised various things.

We parted then and I suffered additional dreams of Haruno, something I suspect she planned from the moment she saw me at Master Donut. I am trying not to feel guilty that my libido wants Haruno so very much when Yui would willingly give herself to me, for life, if only I had everything else to support the inevitable consequences.

It was a week later when sensei appeared at the student council chambers.

“I have a task for you. Soubu is going to contribute staff to planning and operating a public event for Christmas, a dinner with entertainment on December 23rd. We’ve authorized you budget, and you’ll be working with another school, so coordinate this with them,” she ordered, handing over paperwork to Yukino. She read it and frowned, flipping pages.

She passed the paperwork to me, the Vice President. I feel this title is appropriate. I read the paperwork.

“We have to work with the minions?” I asked sensei, who paused before she could escape.

“Hachiman, that name is derogatory. Don’t ever use that in their presence. We need to show how we can cooperate, and in future some of those minions might work for you. As junior managers,” she smirked. “Make this happen. And don’t embarrass our school.”

The following day we cut short student council to lunch sessions only and journeyed a few blocks to the city library, where the meeting room Yukino had arranged was already filled with members of Kaihin’s student council.

“We voted to elect our president, Tamanawa-san, as council chairman,” attempted one of the minions.

“Unacceptable. Hold a new vote. I nominate our student council president as festival chairwoman, Yukinoshita Yukino,” I insisted. “All in favor?” I asked. Our people raised their hands. “Opposed?” I asked. Our people put their hands down. Tamanawa and a couple minions raised their hands. It was eight to seven, our win. “Yukinoshita will you serve as Chairwoman to the best of our ability for the duration of this project?” I asked her officially.

“I so swear,” she answered. She marched to the front of the room and Tamanawa made a show of clearing out his laptop and stuff he’d setup to presume leadership when his school produces only followers, minions, people without ideas.

In the following twenty minutes Yukino presented the plan, it was ratified, and we’d meet in a week to provide contractor approval, funding authorizations, and contact information for elementary kids we’d use to help decorate and serve as waiters during the event, complete with costume rentals. This would help the seniors who were the primary attendees from several city rest homes. This was a feel-good project, with exposure and photographers would be present from the local newspaper and TV news station. Chiba has a million people. Of course we had our own news station. We had two of them.

Each week, not ever day of the week. Just once a week, we met with the other school and insisted on meeting deadlines. Any failures were reported to sensei, who contacted the supervising teacher and principal at Kaihin, and some of the staff on the other side of the table were replaced by more competent or motivated students who got the work done on time. Tamanawa kept trying to interrupt the meetings with hand gestures and jargon but Yukino shut him up quickly each time. Orimoto, who was one of the minions and had a tourette’s-like tendency to blare support for Tamanawa by shouting jargon into the room was asked to leave after her fourth outburst in the third meeting. She did not return. I found this a relief.

Yui worked with the secretary, accounts, and executive officers, leaving me and Yukino to manage personnel and run herd on the idiots. Time wound down.

On the appointed day elementary students including Tsurumi Rumi and her friend, made and assembled various decorations for the chamber we’d gotten rented and approved for our event. It was a complex rent, with insurance and electricity and rent of the attached kitchens for heating the food, rented linens and various serving ware, rented stainless steel silverware and flatware, and the costumes the kids changed into just before the seniors arrived via bus, also contracted. It was a stupendous amount of money, organized via various funders that Yukino’s family worked with. This meant political connections. And it went smoothly. The kids did a brief stage play, then served Christmas Cupcakes to the elderly patrons. There were lots of pictures.

The news made us a warm family-friendly story on Christmas eve, and I spent that day with Yui, cuddling and kissing, which we both enjoyed.

A week after Christmas, we rose early and dressed in traditional lined kimono and haori. Komachi was very cute, though the gown required she move slowly and carefully, complete with its obi appropriately chosen for her age and position. I escorted Komachi and Taishi to Yui’s house, and then we hopped the crowded monorail to a local shrine to watch the sun rise. Yukino and Haruno met us there, and I met her parents. Haruno’s dad was reserved, as any Conservative party member would be, and her mother was absolutely terrifying. I can see why Haruno laughed. Yukino is almost friendly in comparison to the coldness of their mother.

We made our polite and formal greetings in the new year. Drank sweet sake warm from paper cups, made donations and got our fortunes, and I tied up my “terrible luck” slip on the provided line, where many other fortunes were already tied. It would be in good company. Yui kept her fortune, declining to show it to me and merely blushed.