Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ To Be The Villain ❯ Conspiracies ( Chapter 2 )

Another day, another unfamiliar ceiling. I will get used to this ceiling. It will not be unfamiliar for long. I’m not going to whine like Ikari Shinji. I’m getting up and going about this life one day at a time. I slogged through the morning wakeup process, coming more awake with my coffee and toast and scrambled egg. I don’t know why the Japanese like roll omelets with sugar and mirin sake in them, but they do. I prefer a quick rough scramble and a little salt. Its far faster to cook and easier to clean up. My parents rush out the door as I’m eating and I follow a bit later, presentable to the world once more with that vacant smile women like on my face. It is a mask. Today I will talk to Yukino, maybe at lunch before all the drama escalates.

Morning classes I’m halfway tuned out, thinking about what to say. I paid attention in history class, not knowing all this ancient history, and it was actually interesting. Math was dullsville. I know for a fact that I will NEVER need the quadratic equation in my life. Real engineers use spreadsheets and 3D CAD software. We would be using our time better to learn Spreadsheets rather than nonsense math, but don’t tell the teacher. Never tell the teacher they’re wasting everyone’s time. Sigh. Must look interested. Must pretend to be a good student for the sake of my family reputation. Lunch rang and I excused myself, taking my lunch with me. Miura looked betrayed and Tobe confused. I can’t wait around to explain or put up with their noise and drama. This is important.

I found the clubroom where Yukino sat alone with a cup of tea that was clearly just steeping from a moment before.

“Ah! I asked you to knock!” she complained, turning to see me and froze.

“Pardon my intrusion. May I speak to you?” I inquired in my most polite Japanese. She resisted the impulse to sneer. Oh dear. She’s in a sour mood.

“What is it?” she snapped. I sighed, so she could see me.

“Propriety!” I warned her. She froze, and her face quickly masked from her honest venom towards me.

“Your club has gained a new member. Congratulations,” I began, watching her watching me. Measuring. Sensing for weakness. Talking to Yukino is like fencing. She loves to put the point in.

“Oh? Does this concern you, Hayama?” she formally riposted against my statement.

“He’s in my class. I’m aware he’s the boy your car struck a month and a half ago, but I do not think he’s aware of that,” I explained.  

“Really? What interest is that of yours?” asked Yukino, sensing weakness. She struck for the heart, as usual, so I parried.

“Your sister asked to send her regards to you,” I answered, her spike going wide as thoughts of her childish and domineering sister slammed into her awareness. I could see her wince.

“It seems timely to mention,” I continued, “that one of my friends, the girl with the dog he saved, will be coming to you with a favor. She’ll be asking for assistance baking cookies, and is too shy to ask in front of Miura and I for various reasons.”

“Oh? Really now. Is being associated with you starting to… bite?” she asked, flashing an ugly smile. Yukino is more like her mother than Haruno ever feared. How Hachiman never saw this side of Yukino only shows just how much she liked him and his naïve deviousness. He thought he was clever. He never understood the depths of her ambitions. Pretty little poison flower that she is.

“Yui is… interested in your clubmate,” I revealed, leaving an opening. She struck, as expected.

“Interested how?” she asked.

“Yui is a sweet girl. Naïve, romantic, and rapidly losing interest in career ambitions. She wants a simpler life, running a flower shop or being a bride, so she’s said recently. She isn’t trying to take over running the prefecture. Hikigaya’s moment of heroism and injury to save her beloved pet seems to have given her unusual focus.”

“A glance at him reveals a certain resemblance to Pan San, and he thinks himself a savage loner. Yui has her work cut out for her just getting his attention properly. For her sake, would you not misdirect him and allow their romance to begin without interference?” I begged her.

“Oh? And what does that have to do with the Service Club?” Yukino asked, so like Haruno.

“Yui is a good girl, with good girl dreams, but she hasn’t worked at it like you have. Try to resist being yourself when you teach her. Exasperation isn’t going to help her learn to bake cookies. She doesn’t have basic knowledge, and hasn’t got the benefit of experts to teach her over several years, until you begin today. Be patient.”

“You cannot be serious,” objected Yukino. “You think I’d hurt some heart-sick little girl with her first crush, just because he’s a filthy beast?”

“You know, there’s an entire plot of a Cary Grant movie like that, and they end up getting married by the end,” I pointed out. Yukino looks confused by that, obviously preferring Samurai movies to Cary Grant’s womanizing humor.

“Try not to feel jealous. Yui is a nice girl. She’s not like us, bred to rule, to manipulate. She’s simple and kind. She’s not as smart as you. She’d treat you like a friend if you give her a chance, and you’d never have to worry about backstabbing… provided you don’t try and take her man.”

“Is that something like Miura and You?” she speared me through the heart with her words. I coughed in imaginary pain, and real emotional pain.

“You know I regret hurting you, Yukino. I was thoughtless and I regret it, and you never ever let me forget how much you hate me for both the times I hurt you,” I apologized, for all the good it would do me. She glared, just as angry as she’d been for the last three years.

“And so you replace me with that harpy?” she accused.

“That’s unfair. Miura is just sensitive. And we’re not that way, in any case,” I cautioned and denied.

“Hah. You aren’t that way. You’re stringing her along. It’s painful to watch her pine for you, and how you never commit,” Yukino accused, an ugly look on her face, one of jealousy, of poison.

“Life teaches many lessons, some of them ugly. I fell for a pretty face, you got betrayed, and Miura will eventually realize I was never into her. I’m not sure I can love anymore. Can you?” I asked her, reflecting her blow back upon her. She looked shocked at the accusation.

“Get out!” she yelled and I bowed, retreated, and shut the door behind me. I removed myself from her cursing. Hachiman merely gets snark from little Yukino, darting insults, not a sword to the gut and eviscerating tug, what she gives to me and every other male that approaches her away from cameras or famous people she’s required to play nice with. The real Yukino is a shrew.

I returned to the classroom, ate quietly, deflecting questions, wondering if I’d just made things worse. Women are difficult creatures. Filled with inconsistencies and hormonal over-reactions, bad judgement, and biases. If it weren’t for grudges I’d know nothing about Yukino at all. She loves her grudges. It is amazing to consider how much she set aside, or will in the near future, for Hachiman, quietly and creepily grinning with his headphones in his ears, pretending to sleep over his desk. Hundred and eight skills, my ass.

I gave a gentle smile to the nervous Yuigahama and a wider fake smile for Yumiko, my totally fake girlfriend who does a great job keeping other girls away. She’s under the impression I like Yukino, rather that my broken heart over Haruno, my first sexual crush. Yukino was my first female friend crush, but finding out you have boy parts when seeing the older sister in a little black dress? It shakes up your worldview. Its sort of like when I went to the mall with Hana… huh. That’s an original memory from my old body. I guess this means I died. I meditated as class began with Shizuka’s lecture of modern Japanese, which this body has already mastered, and remembered a Mitsubishi logo getting VERY close and then a WHAM-CRACK and I think my brain got egg-shelled on the front grill. Damn. Must have been around the same time as prior Hayato died of shame during a nightmare. Whatever he dreamed went with him. So long!

My usual friends were careful to pay attention to Shizuka, who had sharp eyes and sharper ears, and enjoyed pouncing on students not paying attention. Even Hikigaya was paying attention, though to be fair, he was third in the school. Behind Shiromeguri and Yukino. Excellent and consistent perfect scores are probably also why his essay outraged Sensei so much. I suppose coming back from the hospital and finding no room in the established cliques was a cause for outrage. He’s said once that he was trying to reinvent himself as a happy and popular kid when he got hit by Yukinoshita’s limo. Considering his little sister is one of the cutest in all of anime, this is a real shame.

I looked forward up the row and noted the back of Kawasaki’s ponytail bouncing between writing and observing the sensei. Hikigaya won’t get to her problem for a few weeks. I could help her now, and win some points with the third cutest Yankee in anime. It will piss off Miura, so I will need to be discreet. Not discrete. I am not a small number easily divisible. When class ended I gave a thumbs up to Yui and whispered “Ganbatae” to her. She looked a little confused but smiled and went out the door with her things, heading for the Service Club and destiny, or at least a sort of Romance. Will Yukino spite me? Of course she will. I caught up to Saki by the shoe lockers and passed her a web link to scholarships for Chiba students in who want to attend cram school, one of those temporary short TinyURL things I’d managed to make with my phone in the last few minutes of class. I wish I could have done better, but she looked confused like Yui had, photoed it with her phone and hopefully would go there before it expired in a week.

Then it was soccer practice and a visit to the supermarket on the way home, carrying a couple bags of fresh ingredients for food I liked. My parents would reimburse me if I provide the paper receipt. We don’t have servants. Too many secrets in our house, and mom gets loud in bed. I soaked in the bath before getting out to make dinner, with leftovers in the fridge for the parents, carefully wrapped. They arrived before I went to my room to do homework before bed and were happy to see some food. I left them to a quiet dinner, excusing myself, and wrote an essay, filled out several pages of math problems, completed a quiz for the reading in History, and another quiz for Modern Japanese. Then a quick check of my messages and an angry jealous accusation of cheating by Miura for talking to Kawasaki. She goes through periods like this, and I checked my calendar to verify the date in her cycle, updating it with jealous rage in her file. It is stuff like this which makes men seek simpler women rather than complicated ones with big egos. Its also why simpler women manage to stay married longer, while egomaniac narcissists blame men for their many divorces until their looks fail and then nobody cares about them anymore. See Shirley McLaine and Carrie Fisher, one went mad and the other literally drunk herself to death. Or will in the future. I wonder if I could warn her to avoid everything having to do with the final Star Wars films? That bears thinking about. They were genuinely terrible, Highlander 2 bad. Thor Love and Thunder bad. So bad people literally pretended they did not exist.

I messaged Yuigahama with a link to a search I’d created at the Chiba City library for beginner cookbooks, asking if any of them would be good for me because I wanted to learn. She could then look at them, borrow them, and get started on her plans to seduce Hachiman to the dyed side, because she would have cookies. A pity that Yukino already has cookies, and if she gets interested in Hachiman like her sister, and they were more alike than either would admit, she might get to him first. As starved for attention as he is, the first to pounce with her crotch was likely to be the winner. Message from Kawasaki.

“What is this?” she asked via LINES private chat.

“Little bird told me you’re staying out late and another bird says Royal Okura Hotel lounge, Angels Ladder bar.”

“How do you know that?” she asked.

“Little birds tell me many things. They say you’re earning money to pay for cram school for college. These scholarships are available for any Chiba student who meets the application requirements and deadlines. I don’t qualify, but you probably do. Take some time, look them over, and apply before the deadlines. Sooner you do, the sooner you can be approved and not get caught by Iroha’s Dad, a detective who I know drinks there.” That was a lot to type.

“Umm. Thanks.” She logged out. So did I. I am tired. Its 10:30 PM. Sleep!