Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ The Voices In My Head Tell Me So ❯ TWO ( Chapter 2 )

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

TWO

 

My morning was a frantic series of dressing, combing, eating, and rushing off to school, my sister riding on my bike with me, illegally. I got her to the gate of her middle school and she rushed off before remembering her bag and lunch. Then I headed for Soubu and the bike rack. I saw the grey-blue haired girl turning on the bike lock and approached her.

“Hey, I’m Hachiman. I found out our siblings are friends. We’re in class together but I haven’t really said hello before,” I tried. She nodded.

“Kawasaki Saki. We’d better get to class,” she said, moving away. I followed, changing shoes at the lockers.

“Do you know of any good scholarships for Chiba students? I’m starting to research them for cram school funding,” I asked her.

“What’s a scholarship?” she asked. I explained as we entered the classroom.

“So they just give you money?” she confirmed.

“There’s usually some requirements, and you have to apply by certain dates, but yes. That’s the idea. Some scholarships get no applications so they just accrue more money from interest. There’s probably a scholarship for…,” I drifted off. I wonder what she does as a hobby? Voice?

Sewing. She tailors her own clothes.

“Sewing. There’s scholarships for pretty much anything. We just have to find them. I wonder if sensei knows?” I asked. Saki looked intrigued. Thanks, Voice.

Class started and Saki took her seat, two rows over in the center of the room. Sensei was taking roll. Ebina’s nose burst into blood fountain, as she often does, and collapsed in some kind of demented glee. Miura tended to her friend with a tissue and put-upon expression. Thinking about it, this happened often, and it was always Miura who dealt with Ebina. So not a constant bitch, then.

Voice? I asked my inner voice.

Yeah?

How did you get into my brain? I asked it.

I was in a crosswalk and was run down by a Karen, who was texting while she was driving. The very last thing I heard right before I died was her shouting “Do you know who I am?” at the arresting officer.

What is a Karen? I asked him. Is that some kind of alien tentacle monster from space? There was a pause.

Pretty much. That’s a good way to describe them. They believe themselves to be a superior species and they think they can talk but really they just shout that one phrase after doing something really unforgivably wrong. Like running me over. In the crosswalk. And she ran the red light. I think if I’d lived longer they would probably have issued bounties on Karens and you would be able to hunt them and turn in the skins for a reward.

Does a Karen skin mean it is dead? I asked him.

Probably, though nobody would be surprised if that just revealed a bipedal space lizard underneath.

The future sounds like a really weird place. I’ll keep my eyes open for space lizards that shout that phrase, I told him. I returned my attention to class.

After PE I managed to get to lunch by the tennis courts. Saika was there practicing. My inner passenger kept reminding me he’s a boy to prevent weird responses. He looks like a girl. He acts cute like a girl.

He’s a boy. No chance of second season Haganai reveal here. He’s a boy.

So what happens next? I asked the voice.

Today you get to make friends with a nice girl. She’s like Orimoto, only actually nice. And she actually likes you because she saw you do something heroic right in front of her, and you impressed her. Also, she wants to be more assertive so she finds hanging out with you and Yukino to be fun because you both tell the truth out of spite.

Spite? Me? I resent this accusation.

You totally do. So does Yukino. She does it to push people away and test them. You do it because you enjoy shocking people and have a generally sarcastic and cynical view of people. I’m not saying you’re wrong, by the way. You’re the closest to an accurate view of people ever aired on Japanese TV and at least as popular as Haruhi Suzumiya for a completely different reason. Though both of you are less popular than Your Name or Yuru Camp.

What? What are you going on about? I thought at the voice.

A movie about time travel text messaging. The other is a TV show about cute girls camping. Learn how to camp if you want a less fussy girlfriend. It is going to be super popular in around seven years. The entire population of Japan will watch that show. All of it. Seriously the most popular TV show in Japanese history. Get a drivers license and a Kei car van of some kind, one of those Suzukis or maybe one of the little Hondas. They rust less than the Suzuki does.

More popular than Gundam? I asked it, having serious doubts.

Gundam isn’t kid friendly. Too much blood and death. And lots of old people won’t watch it. They watched Yuru Camp, though. Back to the girl though. She’s a nice girl. Don’t be mean. She’s better than Orimoto and she actually likes you. Many fans think the two of you will eventually marry, if she can learn how to cook.

If she can’t cook she’s not perfect for me.

The only woman you know that can cook is your sister, and you can’t marry your sister. Don’t even joke about that. And forget about pushing silly jokes about being a house husband. You aren’t a good enough cook and you don’t have boobs to raise a baby. You’re going to have to get a paying job, just like everyone else. Also, Saki can cook, because she cooks for her younger siblings. She also sews, as I said, but she’s interested in going off to college for some reason, rather than being a bride. She might change her mind if you date her. She might not. She’s a valid romantic interest. It’s just that this other girl is an active romantic interest.

I ended class and headed for the club room.

Tell Yukino to prep enough water for three cups of tea.

I did. She quirked an eyebrow at me for this, but the two of us sat with our tea and I turned on my stopwatch function. At eight minutes and forty one seconds there was a knock at the door and it was rattled open by Sensei. Yukino, as usual apparently, chastised her about waiting for acknowledgment.

“I wanted to interrupt any kind of romantic moment you two were having… oh. Disappointing,” Hiratsuka sensei commented at our distant seating. Her fun had been spoiled. A pink haired girl entered. I recognized her from my classroom. She smiled hesitantly at the girl and noticed me sitting there, startling her.

“Hikki? What are you doing here?” she said.

And here’s romantic lead number one. Tea time. Remind her.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” I asked her. “My name is actually Hachiman. May I have your name?” There. Nice and polite.

“We’re in the same class!” she complained. “It’s Yui.”

Yukino stared at the teacup and then back at me, mystified and full of questions, probably ones like: “How could you possibly know we’re getting a visitor today?” She poured the tea and placed it in front of the chair where Yuigahama sat. I remembered her last name, finally. A bit odd how her first name is the short version of her family name. Same with Yukino. And Saki. A very odd coincidence.

Riiight. A coincidence. Don’t forget Hayama Hayato. It’s more interesting noticing which people have names which aren’t short versions, and why this is so. Why is the student council president Shiromeguri Meguri, yet the fox girl Isshiki Iroha gets a name despite being a romantic interest? Inquiring minds want to know.

“So, what can we do for you today?” Yukino asks Yuigahama. The girl sips her tea and fiddles with the cup before meeting my gaze, blushing, and then looking at Yukino. Okay, that means something.

Told you.

“I want to learn how to bake cookies. I didn’t want to bother my friends because I don’t think they’d understand,” she requested. Yukino nodded. She looked at me, and dismissed me.

“I need to visit the teacher’s office to get the Home Ec room key, but I think we can do this today,” she promised. “Let’s go.” We finished our tea quickly, locked the room and headed down the stairs. Yui chattered while Yukino pretended to listen to the verbal cascade. I followed both, enjoying the sway of their hips and legs. While the school shoes did no favors, they didn’t need to. A century ago both these girls would be married women before this age. It’s only in the last seventy years that marriage ages rose.

Why does this girl like me? I asked the voice.

The dog you saved? It was her dog.

Huh. I was in a lot of pain at the time. I don’t remember much.

As a fellow car crash victim with access to your memories, you had it easy. I won’t give you details, but it wasn’t a nice death for me.

We went to the teacher’s office, get the key from Tsurumi sensei, and head to the home economics classroom, which is a kitchen with freezers, fridges, stoves, countertops, and ovens. And lots of cabinets with various cutlery and trays. I don’t know how to use all of them. I cook sometimes. I’m not helpless, but my sister is a much better cook. I think she might be going for a traditional wife lifestyle in her future, fully rejecting the office lady life. As smart as she is, she probably saw through the Strong Independent Woman lie and noticed the cat-lady suicide rate available from the Japanese government website. Query the right data and you can work it out for yourself on a spreadsheet. Mortality rates, divorce rates, marriage rates for women over 30. It’s all there, she said. So she cooks and cleans and finds enjoyment as a homemaker. I suppose I should worry about how fast she’s working towards a life as a housewife with kids in the future when she’s only in Middle School right now, but she pointed out that time passes quickly.

I can help with the cooking stuff, if you want to know. In my country, all the men cook. Most of us are divorced, if we got anywhere with women, and the ones who didn’t also cook.

What? You cook salads and tall food? I mocked him.

Beef and potatoes, though salads help prevent scurvy and rickets. You need your vitamins. Just stay away from Tofu and soybean oil. That stuff is really bad for you.

What? What about miso soup? That’s soybeans. And soy sauce! I complained.

Those two are fine. Processing destroys the poison in soybeans. Tofu will give you breasts and prevents muscle development, and prevents you growing a beard. Women still consider men with small beards to be hot and slightly rebellious. Just tell your sister to lay off the tofu. It’s bad for her too.

What about Chiba peas? I asked the voice.

Those are fine. Eat as many as you like. Put them in soups, casserole, boil, steam, stir fry (with olive oil), and various other dishes like stew. If you cook for your sister and it is good she’ll be impressed.

She thinks you’re a demon, remember.

Eh, demon, angel, couldn’t say. I think I’m a ghost. I died after living. That’s a ghost. Haven’t met any gods or devils. Your sister is cute and smart. She might be trolling you.

Trolling… is that another future word?

Nah. Refers to Fishing. It’s around twenty years old in this context. So older than you, but not by much. It means dangling bait in front of a fish to make them bite, for the fun of fighting. People do this on the internet all the time.

Yukino and Yui were extracting ingredients to make cookies. Butter cookies. They do taste good.

Would you like them to taste good? You’ll have to pay attention, not just stand back. If you stand back, you’re getting charcoal. Yui is a good girl, but she doesn’t know how to cook. She’s here to learn, so make no assumptions about her ability.

Yukino starts with a fast pace and I can see that Yui is missing stuff, trying to interrupt to slow down the princess. I sigh. The voice is right.

“Yukino. She’s a beginner. Slow down. Explain everything,” I stepped in with this request. She glared at me interrupting, then looked at the girl who showed a grateful expression at me. Yukino is not a dummy. I can respect that about her. She started over, reading the recipe, explaining about dry mixing, measuring, temperatures, and baking times.

“What temperature does the oven need to reach?” I asked. Yui read it off to me. I noted a tag hanging from the nearest oven’s handle. Hot plus 6 degrees C, set lower. I set it at the lower temp, opening and finding the rack too low. I raised it to the center before shutting the door and letting it get hot.

They mixed the dry ingredients with flour, salt, and a bit of baking powder, mix then cut in the butter with a pastry cutter. Then add a small amount of water so the dough would stick and the ingredients react. No egg?

Not in a butter cookie. If you add an egg you get one that rises too much and you get a different kind of cookie. This isn’t supposed to rise very much, just enough so it breaks easily. We aren’t making hard tack.

What is Hard Tack? That sounds like something from an American Western movie.

It is from American Western movies. They had it in the civil war and revolutionary wars too. It’s basically unleavened bread cooked until dry, then wrapped in wax paper so it can travel. Break some off and boil it so you can eat it, or nibble carefully and see a dentist if you aren’t careful.

Sounds awful.

Better than horsebread. Blame the socialists. That’s what we were eating around the time I died. After the ’24 and ’26 elections and the civil war, everybody was eating issued horsebread and pretending they weren’t starving to death. One of the main ingredients was silage, fit only for livestock feed lots. You had to boil that two hours before it made a salty vegetable soup. It would keep you alive, but it wasn’t a fun time.

Cookies. I smell them browning.

I pulled the oven open before the girls did and grabbed an oven mitt to extract the sheet. A couple were unevenly browned at the edge, but the majority looked and smelled done, just right golden brown. The oven temp was probably still a degree or two high. I turned down the dial while the girls cooed over the cookies and Yukino demonstrated how to remove them with a thin metal spatula and place onto a thin wire cooling rack. Yui yelped picking one up and Yukino warned her about how hot that was. She looked mournful at the shattered cookie on the floor. I sighed, finding a dust pan and broom. I took care of it. Yukino began placing more cookies on the sheet and the next batch went in. Timers set. The cookies were cooler now. Yui proffered one at me on a plate. I picked it up, warm but not hot, and nibbled it. Very good. Perfectly normal. Like my sister makes.

“It’s good. Thank you,” I said. She blushed cutely.

And to think you might have been staring at charcoal right now and wondering where it all went wrong, then shooed them out of the classroom and invited them back with a fast talking presentation and fake apology about how grateful any boy would be to get cookies from a girl it wouldn’t matter how bad they taste.

I would totally do that, I admitted.

Yes, you totally would. And did in a previous world without me here to notice the cookies were done before the timer went off.

How did you know? I asked the voice.

I’m smelling with your nose. I can feel with your fingers. I’m seeing with your eyes.

So wait… when I pooped this morning? I asked. The voice was silent. The answer is obvious.

I’m along for the ride.

The girls finished the second batch and cleaned up, packaging the cookies after they cooled. Yui gave me a small decorative bag of a dozen cookies and some for Yukino, and the rest for our teacher. I checked the oven was off, the floor cleaned of flour and crumbs, and the rack washed and put away, as well as the sheet we’d used. Yukino nodded approvingly, seeming surprised I was housebroken.

“My sister and I cook dinner together. Club means I’m coming home later. She was not pleased about this, but we’ll adjust.”

“Hikki… thank you for helping me,” she said and then suddenly I was wrapped in girl with my face buried in her hair as she shook with emotion, hopefully gratitude?

Hug her back, briefly doofus.

I hugged her back for a ten-count and then let go once more. She released me, teary eyed and blushing. The feeling of her breast on me slowly faded. Wow.

Yeah, it’s like that. The moment will overwhelm any man, especially the first time. I said she was nice. From the outside she’s your Best Girl. Oops. Looks like Yukino is pissed.

I turned my head to regard Yukino’s dark expression.

Hello, Jealousy Hotline? I want to report an incident…

“Thank you for your help today, Yukino,” offered Yui quickly, defusing the rising tensions. She hugged Yukino and said her goodbyes before fleeing the classroom.

Yukino turned to regard me in silence. I tried one of my uncomfortable smiles, which typically looks more like a grimace.

“Uh… I think this was a success,” I said. She examined the oven, and finally read the tag hanging from it.

“I see you meddled. She won’t learn how to cook unless she makes mistakes,” Yukino accused.

She won’t want to learn if she only makes mistakes. She lacks confidence. And she’s new to cooking, not an expert.

“She’s a novice. Never baked anything before. What if her cookies came out burnt? Would she want to keep trying, or would she become discouraged at the failure, and then worry that she was doomed from the start and give up on her goals? Is you teaching by failure still justified if it drives away a student?” I asked her. Yukino glared, then flushed at realizing I was right. Then she glared again while pink with embarrassment.

“Fine. Have it your way. I have to return the keys,” she hissed, pushing me out of the classroom.

I left with my bag and exited the campus on my bicycle ten minutes later, reasonably happy. On arriving home I offered the bag of cookies to Komachi, taking another for myself to show they weren’t poison. She glared at me suspiciously.

She ate the candy this girl left for you, you know. Ask her.

“Komachi, did a girl bring me candy here while I was in the hospital?” I asked. Komachi looked thoughtful, then embarrassed as she nibbled on the sugar cookie in her hand.

“Umm… yeah. A girl with pink hair dropped it off, wanting to thank you. I was reading a magazine and ended up eating it all. It was good,” she said as if this made it better.

“And you just now remembered?” I asked her.

“Sorry, niichan,” she laughed it off with a silly bonk to her own head and a good cartoon look. I can’t resist her. She’s the cutest little sister in the world.

Yes, yes she is.