Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ From Beta To Sigma ❯ Club Activities ( Chapter 2 )

The following day at club, Yuigahama appeared, offering to join: “Because it looks like you’re having so much fun!” she explained. Yukino sighed, then found a club membership form and got her signed up. We could use one more person to be an official club, but three would probably be enough to keep use of the room, for now.

The day after that we got a visit from someone I knew in Middle School, someone I’d suffered Chuunibyo syndrome with before throwing it away and trying and failing at romance. Romance led me to become the man I am now and I would only get stronger because the world hates men who stand alone, and I was as alone as I could be. Well, except that the two girls were blocking the doorway, looking either scared or curious. My view of Yoshiteru was obscured by the annoyed face of Yukinoshita, who recoiled at how close I’d become. I stepped back.

“Let me handle this,” I offered. They would be useless here. He didn’t like or understand girls, preferring his waifu in the 2D shape. He hadn’t let go of literary fictions yet. Women are only nice in fiction. Not in the real world.

I opened the door and stepped into yet another unlikely set piece. The papers atop the shelf began to flutter to the floor. He’d moved the table and chairs out of the way, gesturing and speaking the appalling copy of old Japanese, the kind that ends every sentence with “de gozaru”. It was tiresome. Referring to me as a great general is tiring.

“Yoshiteru, that’s a book right?” I asked him, interrupting his nonsense.

He proceeded to explain in a long winded way he wanted us three to read it and critique it. I sighed. I have to exercise today, meaning a 25 kilometer ride, at speed, on the less travelled roads outside Chiba. Chiba City is a million people. It is NOT a small town. It’s a big city. But you can get out of it and into the countryside and half a dozen golf courses fairly quickly if you head East. This was my practice area, and I needed to get there and improve my fitness so I could reach the level able to crest passes into the better and more remote campgrounds. We collected our copies of the book and went home. I read the atrocious book until sleepy, eating sister’s meal with her. She had found a boy she liked and was following her instincts, as women do. If I’d been a true Siscon this would annoy me, but having read as much as I have about female nature it merely confirmed my expectations. Moving on, the following day I was exhausted, having suffered bad dreams over the terrible writing and lack of exercise made me restless. This in turn had me dragging all day. When club came around Yoshiteru had convinced himself with disturbing levels of optimism that we would like his book. Yukinoshita, in a move I approved of, ripped him a new one for bad grammar, spelling, stupid plot points, nudity, terrible naming devices, and generally terrible writing. Yuigahama only said: “You used a lot of difficult words.” This was a critical hit.

“At least you, my boon companion, have kind words for me?” he pleaded. I looked him in the eye.

“So who did you rip off?” Knockout blow delivered, I felt satisfied with that much. Then I handed him a print out for a forum that critiqued new writers and urged him to follow their tutorials so he could avoid messes like this. He promised he would and left us in peace.

Our third quest was to help the girlish boy from my classroom practice his tennis playing. Yukino was good at tennis, but lacks stamina. She’s a pretty princess, not a farm girl. Yui had the muscles and energy, but was clumsy and slow, so terrible at tennis. This left me. Unfortunately, the day was warm so I had to wear a jersey, which was rather tight and revealing, and shorts that showed off my muscular legs. All my training was visible, and I’d done well to hide it thus far. I felt a prickle of fear, and eyes were on me.

Things only got worse when the popular kids from my class showed up to ruin practice, demanding use of the courts because drills wanted to. That was the nickname I’d given to the blonde chick dating Smiley, the guy with the liars face. Yukino and he exchanged a look and she glared at him while he tried to talk out a compromise.

“Get lost. We signed out the courts,” I warned them. The women looked eager for blood. Typical. They’re THAT kind of woman, and I knew about that kind from Middle School. The type who just want to watch you bleed.

Instead we got a competition I wanted no part of, and resulted in some trick shots and an exhausted Yukino. Drills hit the fence, bouncing off Smiley, and they all felt heroic for ruining our practice and wasting our time. I feel even more justified in hating people, thanks to this incident, and Yukino decided she won this contest because she showed up late. Worse, all those girls had seen me, and my attitude had gained their attention rather than be recoiled by my dislike of them. Mad as a box of hammers, the lot of them.

My next request for a service club dispatch was from my sister. I couldn’t see how this was my problem, but she explained that her new boyfriend had a sister in my school, in my class even, who was coming home late and was tired all the time and smelled of cigarette smoke. He was worried about her, and had heard about the dangers of compensated dating and other crimes that targeted high school girls who wanted money and didn’t know any better. Yukinoshita tried talking to her. So did Yui. They both failed. Sensei tried talking to her and ended up crying and leaving school in tears, something about being single and with no prospects for marriage. Someone please take her. Or buy her a cat. The cat was probably a better fit. So much anger.

We hunted using the clue of something about Angels in a shop name and found a maid café. I got to see what Yukinoshita looked like in a maid cosplay outfit, and struggled to control my libido and retain my sense of detachment. Let it flow past you. She’s not yours. It is not even your turn. She’s a lure, a fishhook with distracting clothing.

“She’s not on the shift schedule, so this isn’t the place,” she explained. She vanished and returned to normal clothing and we exited the overpriced pander-palace with its otaku victims. It is not my kind of place. It’s Yoshiteru’s kind of place, if he makes enough money to afford going there, but not mine. I want peace and quiet, not fantasies of women who don’t exist and never did.

The other option required a change of clothing. The girls went to Yukino’s estate. A mansion I’m sure. I went home and found my only black suit. I showered and shaved and dressed, slicking back my hair and applying sunglasses. In the mirror I looked like a young Yakuza thug.

“You look like a young yakuza thug, niisan,” warned Komachi.

“This is all part of resolving your request. Be grateful,” I reminded her. She sniffed in disdain and I left the house late, parents still not home, and joined my two club mates in their evening gowns outside the Royal Hotel in downtown Chiba. It was a very nice and upscale place, and the bar on the top floor was called Angel’s Ladder. We faked our way into the bar and faced off against Kawasaki Saki. I remembered her name due to various people repeating it. Yukino opted for the dialog from old movies, including the accent, and I rolled my eyes. Yuigahama just looked worried at her and asked her to come home. I simply reminded her that our siblings were dating. She looked appalled at that.

“Are you saying we could become related?” she asked, her composure shaken behind the bar she tended.

“Its likely. Komachi has never liked a boy before. She’s putting a lot more effort into her cooking lately, and dressing up better before school. I think she likes your brother a lot. We might be in-laws in a few years.” This more than anything repelled her. “If only your brother had a big sister around to keep him from being led astray…” She frowned at that. I may have pushed too far.

“I’m not working for fun. Cram school is expensive, and I need good grades and money to get into a college to study what I want,” she complained.

“Ever heard of a scholarship?” I asked her. I counted out coins and bills to pay for my drink and followed the girls out of the bar. Kawasaki looked thoughtful.

Later that week my sister reported that she’d finally met Saki at Taishi’s house and had a chat about clothes and fashion and scholarships. It seems to have settled the issue. A win for me.

Yukinoshita explained that Yuigahama had a birthday coming up. She asked me for assistance in helping to buy her a present. I sighed. What do I care? My birthday had come and gone with only my sister celebrating, my parents working again. But this we had to make a big deal out of? I was to meet Yukino at the huge shopping mall downtown. This being a city of a million people, Chiba City had an enormous and upscale shopping mall, similar to the one featured in Academy City. That manga was pretty entertaining, and the new anime had been airing. I would record it and view later, and found it was one of those difficult shows. The girls were cute girls, and they were Espers, but it was clearly a magical girls show, with occasional cries of “such misfortune!” sprinkled around. It was fiction, and part of me still loved such things. I was trying to wean myself off these lies because they perpetrate the scam women played on men.

I was getting distracted, probably because when I arrived, on time, Yukino accused me of being late while clearly dressed up like she was there for a date. Komachi was coming along at Yukino’s request because another girl might have some insights into what was wanted. Komachi look a look at my clubmate and muttered something I couldn’t hear, then glared at me when I didn’t compliment her outfit.

“Today, just for today, I shall pretend to be your girlfriend while we shop. This will allay suspicion,” she announced. She took my arm in hers and led me to the shops, my sister in tow.

“Your disguise is good. You look like a normal girl in love,” I complimented. This made her angry, of course. My sister vanished, texting me to “read the room”. Women believe that they are smarter because they communicate on several levels at the same time. I have read about this technique and note that oftentimes, their comments are hostile and rather than communicate, they cause disruption and hatred between women. This has naturally caused economic hardships for women in industry because they instinctively attack each other verbally rather than get things done cooperatively, as men do. This difference between men and women is troublesome for civilizations and ones which do not have women’s rights tend to last longer than those which grant them more. There is currently evidence building that those nations which offered the most rights to women will be the next to collapse in the event of any financial or other stresses, such as an unexpected plague outbreak, or several years of the general population not working and massive debt building. But that was such an unlikely turn of events that many commentators ignored it as outlandish.

Yukino’s idea of shopping was actually hilarious. She tested clothing for stitching and pulled on it to test its durability. I laughed at her, twice. This annoyed her until she finally burst out with demands I show her what I thought would make a good gift.

“She’s got a dog and she’s learning to cook. Why not those sorts of things?” We found her some gifts and I sat down to rest while Yukino paid for hers. A strange woman, related to Yukino but with a bottle fairy’s manners, sat between us, annoying Yukino. Her sister, apparently. She accused us of being on a date, and did Father know, and various other comments. She excused herself trying to get a rise out of me, to make sure I would look at her shapely figure as she walked away. She was beautiful, and mad as a box of spoons.

“She wears a strong mask, don’t you think?” I asked Yukino as she fumed beside me. “I think she does that to get a rise out of you.”

“I know that. Why do you know that?” she demanded, still angry.

“I just observe people, and I’ve read about women,” I mentioned. That was a mistake.

“Read about? What is that supposed to mean?” she snarled. I was saved from answering by a yapping dachshund bouncing around on the smooth tiled floor, then into my lap. Yukino flinched away, not liking dogs apparently, but this one recognized me. And I recognized it.

“Ah… oh. I see,” said a disappointed Yuigahama, arriving after her dog and seeing us dressed up on a date on our day off, without her.

“Ah, there’s something we should talk about,” warned Yukino.

“Really? Phrasing!” I snarked to the upper-crust girl. “Happy Birthday, Yui. We were shopping for your presents. I see Sable is still well?”

“Umm… yeah. But it’s not my birthday?” she complained. I looked at Yukino, raising an eyebrow.

“It was a reasonable assumption,” she complained.

“This is for Sable,” I said, offering the gift box. She unwrapped it and found the collar, replacing the one that kept snapping loose on her dog’s neck.

“Thank you Hikki,” she said in a small voice.

“I hoped we could cook together again,” offered Yukino. Yuigahama unfolded the dark cloth apron and tried it on. I think it will show lots of stains from flour and dog fur, but whatever, it is Yukino’s gift. She tried it on and looked happy. And Yui hugged her so I guess this is a good gift after all. I think we avoided all sorts of troubles somehow, and I choose not to hurt people’s feelings when they’ll just retaliate for it later. Especially women. Telling them they’re wrong or foolish is a waste of your time and makes them want revenge on you. The way of the Stoic is to let it flow past you.