Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Happy Endings, And Other Lies ❯ Happy Endings: 4 ( Chapter 4 )

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

Chapter Four

 

Dawn found me exercising properly for the first time ever. Videos on the One Punch Man workout were inspiring. I wrapped it up getting too exhausted from my run around the block and returned home for a shower, suiting up for school and Komachi’s breakfast offering, which she grumbled about. I was early enough to walk her to school, at least and meet her boyfriend Taishi, which means I also know where Saki-san now lives. We talked about the various scholarships they siblings had applied for. I hoped the results would be helpful in a few weeks when the approvals were decided by the relevant trustee boards.

I hugged my little sister and walked on the further two kilometers to school. More trucks were speeding around, hunting isekais, no doubt. I chuckled and the thought, grabbing an oblivious protagonist before he could be mowed down by a truck running the light and the obvious full crosswalk. It’s like Japans police forces don’t care about speeding trucks that murder people. Yet another big societal problem. The dorky kid made a bunch of hand gestures to me while thanking the quick save and continued on his way. I don’t recognize the uniform. Some other high school. I arrived in plenty of time and found some hate messages and thumbtacks in my shoe locker. I carefully removed them, adding them to the growing collection box. Good times! Its so nice to be back in high school.

“Why are you laughing, Hikki?” asked the sweet voice of Yuigahama. I passed her one of the hate letters.

“I hope they work harder at their messages. They aren’t very interesting. There’s no sense of menace. Its not stalkerish, or even physically chilling. Yukino’s tone was darker and more menacing than this.”

“I wonder how this will affect the class trip?” Yui said out loud, looking longingly at her clique, which was unsubtly shunning her.

“If they lock you out, you can hang out with me,” I offered. “I like your new look. It suits you better.” Yui blushed.

“Thanks, Hikki. I’ll do that.” The pretty boy waved to me, pointed at the DVD, then at his bento. I nodded agreement. We’d meet at lunch to talk about the movie.

Morning classes went well, since I totally ignored the glaring and whispered accusations in the corner of the room. They were attacking Yui, I was pretty sure. When people were mean to my sister, she would run to me for a comforting hug. Yui was a girl. She’d probably need the same. I checked for a tissue. Ready. I’d have to live with snot and smeared makeup on my uniform. I wouldn’t be much of a friend otherwise. Lunch found Yui running out of the classroom in tears. I followed her to our clubroom where she was balling her eyes out. Yukinoshita arrived and I gestured.

“From yesterday?” she asked.

“Obviously. Do you have contact info for Miura?” I asked.

She nodded and texted the drill haired blonde, who stormed in a few minutes later. We glared at her. She softened at the sight of her friend crying and comforted Yuigahama. Miura, it seems, is between a rock and a hard place in this situation.

“I have no control over her, and Hayato is just… AGH!” she yelled the last word. I stepped to the door, noticing the arrival of Totsuka Saika, a name I’d bothered to learn.

“What’s going on?” he asked, curious at all the female tears.

“Women’s business. Come on, lets find a place to talk. What did you think of the movie?” I began the discussion as we headed for the roof of the building. It was a windy day, as was often the case in Chiba City.

“It was weird. The surprise that Tyler Durden was actually a hallucination, the alter-ego of the Ed Norton narrator that takes over his body. It was so disturbing. Do men really just get together and beat each other up to feel manly?” he asked.

“That’s the case for most contact sports, but to a more limited extent. You have to understand that this entire movie is a parody of Alcoholics Anonymous and the various 12-Step program cults. It’s a satire, not meant to be an accurate representation. There are layers of meaning in it. That’s part of what makes it such an ingenious film. If you watch it again, knowing what you know you’ll get an entirely different message from it.” I handed it back to him. “Better yet, watch it with your Dad. He’ll understand.”

We finished eating and returned to the roof access door.

“Thanks Hachiman. Thanks for caring.” I nodded in response. Women just can’t understand.

“If you get lonely, come hang with me and Yui, on the trip. I think we’re going to cruise the sights of Kyoto together. Her clique is mad at us.”

“Okay. I might just do that.”

++++++++

 

The weekend required intense study and more assignments. The following Monday we gathered at the school gates in our uniforms and with overnight bags. We did roll with our homeroom teachers and were led onto busses, and then to Chiba station, and from there by train to the shinkansen station in Tokyo. We boarded, a very nice train, and settled in with Yui, Totsuka, and Kawasaki, who utterly refused to participate on the bullying from either Miura or Ebina, leaving that clique to fight amongst themselves while we enjoyed a quiet conversation on the joys of scholarship forms, cram school study guides, and the difficulties of fitting essays to the tastes of teachers who lack the professionalism to stomach reading what they asked for rather than what they wanted. Cake Sensei showed up then as if summoned, stalking our speeding railcar as it zoomed across the surface of Japan past Mount Fuji and Suzuka, headed for Kyoto and the shore of Lake Biwa.

The ride was honestly exhilarating for being 320 kilometers an hour. And it was over just the right amount of time, arriving at Kyoto station, which was a world landmark with a ceiling so high it actually got rain inside. They got roll again and joined their tour busses with their classes, once more, and arrived at their hotel, paid for by Yukinoshita’s family. It was a nice place, big enough for the school to all stay there. It was quite amazing, when you consider the scale of this. An effective show of power.

The boys were crammed 20 per room, girls likewise, presumably. Meals were brought in and we ate in formal lines before either stepping out to meet friends, with a chaperone, or try the hot springs, which I did. It was nice. People stared at my surgical scars.

“Hikitani. Those are some gnarly scars,” groaned Tobe as he sank into the bath nearby. I noticed Hayama and that other guy whose name I never learned.

“Remember when I fell a few months ago?” I asked him.

“Oh, yeah. I thought, I mean, well, nevermind.” He thought I was faking.

“What do you think now?” I asked him.

“Did Miura’s folks do that?” asked Hayama.

“Yes. Most of them. There were over ten operations. They saved my life, and gave me a new leg.”

“Shouldn’t you be nicer to Miura then?” asked Tobe. Hayama grimaced.

“She’s the one who pushed him and broke his leg. If he’d died it would have been murder. They were obligated to save him to keep her from criminal consequences.”

“I mean, that was like an accident, right?” said Tobe.

“She thought she was helping protect Yui, or that’s what her lawyers would claim in court. But Yui was in no danger, knew me, and was leaving with me. If I’d died? My parents’ attorney would have destroyed Miura.”

“It was that bad?” asked Hayama.

“My leg shattered. The fragments would have killed me. And your blood comes from the marrow inside your legs” I said in totally hard tone. “I think I’ve been extremely polite considering what happened.”

“Hunh,” grunted Hayama.

“I’m not ungrateful to be able to walk again. To live without constant pain. I’m not oblivious to the original cause of that either, or my own mistake which lead to that. I don’t dislike Miss Miura, but this event is just hanging there between us and always will be. Much like with Yukinoshita’s car.”

“Huh? What car?” asked Tobe, opening his eyes in confusion.

“It was her car that broke my leg in the first place.”

“Ooohhh. Wow. That totally sucks,” said Tobe in a less unintelligent manner than I was used to from him.

“I suppose I’m paying that forward. I saved some dumb guy from stepping in front of a speeding truck Friday morning, and that would have totally killed him right in front of me. Splat! I wouldn’t have been able to do that without this new leg, and those operations, so the balance of karma is tilting back.”

“Lucky,” admitted Hayama. “What school? Anybody I know?”

“Not from here. I didn’t recognize the uniform. He thanked me, at least.”

Totsuka arrived, washed, and then sank into the water.

“Oi, Hikigaya. That was a good tip,” he said. “Dad really liked the movie. Watched it another time with me. Is that the same chick from the Harry Potter movies?”

“Yes. Glad you liked it. It’s a clever story, and very well done. Got some awards. Proved that Brad Pitt can act, which is odd because he’s got a rep for that already, but sometimes needs to prove it again, like people just can’t believe it after a while.”

“What movie?” asked Tobe.

“Fight Club. I’ll loan it to you. Just make sure you watch it twice, and remember to give it back to me. It’s a prized possession.”

“Fight Club? I think Dad has that. I’ll watch it,” admitted Hayama. “I thought that was porn.”

“Nah, though there’s a weird sex scene, though the entire movie is weird.”

“His Name is Robert Paulson,” chanted Totsuka. I joined him. There was an angry yell to pipe down from the girl’s side. It sounded like Miura. Figures. I finished up and put on a robe, carrying my clothes back. Miura was there, angry.

“Did you really save someone?” she demanded.

“I think if I save one more life I might be able to forgive you,” I finally said. “That or after you go through labor and text me. The pain should be similar enough.”

“Only you would make that comparison.”

“Don’t blame me. It was your mother who compared the pain levels between surgeries. And she would know, wouldn’t she?” I grinned. It took a second for that connection to sink in. Miura was an only child. She barely held back from slapping me.

“Thanks for the leg. I really did save that guy. He would have died if I hadn’t grabbed him. Couldn’t have done that without you, so thank you.” Her mouth dropped open, all kinds of confused, angry or aroused I just couldn’t tell. I smiled more gently and headed for my hotel dorm.