Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ To Be The Villain ❯ Summer Iron ( Chapter 6 )

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

SIX: Summer Iron

 

Classes culminated in mid-term exams and summer homework assignments. Break is just long enough to embrace the heat. I went to the gym every day. I spotted Hachiman and Yuigahama a few times, and left them alone on their grocery shopping and outings together. Yukino was nowhere to be seen, but she lacks stamina, and I wish that Haruno cared more about her obvious starvation diet and less about her social issues, as bad as they are.

Predictably, I received a message from Shizuka to volunteer for an elementary school camp retreat at Chiba Mountain Village. The service club and my retinue, including Miura and her boyfriend Totsuka, whose seamless breakup had gone well, though now I’m getting lots of date requests by girls around the school and community. The gym shark women also appear when I’m working out, showing off their adult bodies and how flexible they are. Ladies? There is such a thing as too much muscle. Also, birth control pills do terrible things to your physique. Check a mirror.

I work out daily now, distracting myself from the women I don’t want or can’t have, sorry Saki, and direct my testosterone at becoming the best man I can be. I still get in practice and games with the team a couple days a week, but mostly I’m working on myself. And not just body sculpting. In my past life I wasn’t a great cook. I think I liked Hana’s cooking. She was good at it, even if she bragged a lot. I still remember how to make sobu noodles from scratch, learning from her mom, something that will happen eight years from now. And isn’t that a mind trip. I’m actually older than the guy who died to replace this body, for whatever value I am. This is confusing. Focus!

I’m getting in more cooking practice using videos online and recipes I’ve reviewed from Food Network. I like those travel cooking shows like Parts Unknown. And that science cooking guy Alton Brown. I used some of his recipes to make dinners for my parents, when I knew they’d actually be home. It was nice, eating together. It is nice feeling healthy.

Haruno doesn’t pester me more than a couple times a week, mostly via text or calling me out to some site for her vicious attack-flirting. She likes validating her sex appeal. I try and return some of her jabs verbally, but she’s just impossible to ignore. It is summer. She has a lot to show off, in the prime or her womanhood. Sooner than later she’ll be married off to some business partner or political family to improve ties, and that will the the last time I see her playful mood. She’ll be married and popping out babies and telling herself she’s a good daughter of the clan. And dammit if that doesn’t tear me up. You never get over your crushes. You just get better lying about it.

My phone rang. It was Hiratsuka-sensei, asking me and several of my friends and the Service Club to help at the kids summer camp. Of course I said yes. This is the perfect time to talk to Tobe about his growing crush on Ebina. Naturally, the morning found us waiting for Hachiman, who turned up with the cutest little sister in anime, grinning famously, and Shizuka got us into the rented K-car van, and heading for Chiba Mountain Village, which she Hero-dropped from the drivers seat when Hachiman asked why we were getting on the expressway. She grinned in happiness, so I didn’t correct her. Miura was cuddled up with Saika, who was super-embarrassed. Our official breakup had flowed smoothly from our public display right before exams and summer break. The downside is I got a lot of unwelcome date requests from girls in both years above and below my own, plus girls from other classes. I gave a standard saved response of needing time to process and wanting to develop healthy feelings about myself before opening up to dating again. It was a carefully worded lie I’d stolen from Brad Pitt’s publicist.

I enjoyed the ride and the badgering by Ebina to confess my yaoi feelings towards Tobe and Ooka, which she was certain had to be there. I wonder if there’s drugs to stop that kind of insanity? She’s so twisted it isn’t really very funny anymore. Eventually Miura noticed and told her to shut up. Then we arrived at Chiba Mountain Village, school educational summer camp facility, owned by Chiba City Public School District, funded via the district and various grants, including from my own family and the Yukinoshita’s, of course. A number of corporate sponsors had been bullied into support as well. All to keep the bribes flowing and those lucrative public works construction and maintenance contracts. Japan has such great infrastructure because they issue bonds to pay for them, and the work goes to favored contracting companies who issue kickbacks to win the contracts, then hire favored subcontractors, who also throw kickbacks up the chain. They’re still better paid than the salarymen and office ladies, and they have something they can point to when they done. Few clerks can do that. Modern Japanese clerks are just janitors with calculators and spreadsheets, creating paperwork to accomplish VERY LITTLE. And they knew it. Its why social drinking was so bad in this country, and unpaid overtime for no purpose at all. I wonder why my American ancestors stopped bombing Japan? Its modern, in some areas, but ridiculous in most others. Sigh.

We met children. I gave a friendly friendly friend speech to a bunch of kids and smiled my practiced fake-friend smile. Hachiman smirked, holding hands with Yuigahama. Still a nice girl. Not very bright, but nice.

I noticed the girl who was visibly left out standing apart from all the other girls her age. She was frowning and looking put out. She has not learned to be alone yet. She’s pretty much like Hachiman was before coming to Soubu. The outcast. I moseyed over, now that I can spell that word I have also mastered the correct sway.

“What do you want, meathead?” she snarled at me. Ah, that’s right. My muscles are showing. The kind of muscles which make grown women salivate and drip from other places, and young women swarm seeking validation or a paternity suit. I have muscles, and they are repellant to kids. I ignored her insult and sat down exactly 1.25 meters from her.

“Good morning. It sure is a beautiful day here. Are you Tsurumi sensei’s daughter Rumi?” I asked her, trying to ignore the involuntary twitch of this obvious fake-name, to protect the guilty. “I’m Hayama Hayato.”

“You’re the popular boy all the girls like,” she stated flatly. This was almost true. I sighed.

“Is that something you gained from personal observation or just rumors?” I asked her.

“Hah! If you know there are rumors about you, how big is your ego?” said the fifth grader. Tsurumi sensei teaches home economics at Soubu. I like her class. She’s been very helpful with recommended reading and videos, including a website she’s been constructing to teach basic kitchen techniques so students won’t starve after graduation and moving out on their own.

“And you pay attention to these rumors?” I teased her. She blushed. Isn’t that cute.

“Shut up. Dummy,” she muttered.

“Right, right. So I notice you aren’t hanging out with the other girls,” I changed the subject.

“They’re bitches,” she cursed. “We were messing with this girl, then they changed to messing with another girl, then they decided to mess with me, and it never ends.”

“They’ll mess with someone else eventually, and someone after that. Some girls are bitches, who destroy all friendships and then complain about being alone. You did it, and now you have no friends. Better make new ones from people who don’t know you.”

“They ruined my reputation, and any new girls who transfer to our school, they pounce on to warn away from me,” she complained. I shrugged.

“Either get to the transfer students first, get a hobby, or change schools. You won’t be friends with any of these people when you go to Middle School anyway. Less than one percent, and that’s just a rounding error. See that ugly looking guy and the girl with the big boobs and pink hair holding his hand?” I said, gesturing. Rumi stared, finding the couple and recoiling at Hachiman’s eyes, as most women do. Well, not Yukino anyway, but she’s weird. She was here, glaring daggers at the couple from under the shade of a tree. I chuckled at the sight.

“What’s up with them?” Rumi finally asked, confused. “She’s cute. Why is she with that ugly guy?”

“It’s because he’s a Hero, and proved it to her on the first day of school. Broke his leg saving her dog from a car. She fell for him, and he’s got a kind personality, sort of. The important thing is she decided not to be superficial, or care about reputation based on superficial reasons. They’ll marry, have kids, get a house, raise a family, if all goes right. If that is what you want from life, you’ll need to avoid the superficial too. Smart people look like anybody. All those girls and women throwing themselves at me, and the rumors? That’s superficial crap. The sorts of people who like me for my looks are exactly the sort of people I don’t want. See?” I explained.

“So why do you work out, meathead Hayato?” Ruri asked dubiously, giving me the side eye of a teenager.

“That is because Dreams betray you but hard work is its own reward. Or something like that,” I said. She stuck her tongue out at the popular Salaryman motto.

“So what do I do about the bitches in my class?” Ruri finally asked. The camp leader was announcing there was an orienteering program starting. Afterwards they would make curry for lunch.

“Find people you don’t know to hang out with, see if you can make friends. Outcasts tend to find each other, though they may annoy each other since they are outcasts for a reason. Use your own judgement. Don’t bother trying to repair things with those who betrayed you. You’ll just validate their power and that only makes bitches worse,” I explained. She agreed with a nod. Yes, that is true.

I ended up getting assigned to helping groups from one of the corners where I was dropped off by the camp leader. Groups came up and I taught them orienteering in brief. Then they moved on, and another group would show up. The bitch-group from Rumi’s former-clique arrived and fawned over my handsome features rather than realize they came off as creepy. I helped them along and eventually Rumi came up with a group of girls, some of them nerdy looking with big glasses and they looked to get along okay. Onwards for the next hour and eventually the groups ended. I returned to the camp and found it was time to prep the outdoor kitchen with tools and vegetables for the kids to make curry. They will even have to start cook fires. It’s the whole process. They’ll learn a lot. I noticed that Hachiman and Yuigahama moseyed into camp, blushing together. I’m guessing they’ve moved their relationship on to kissing or more, which is fine. Yukino appeared from behind a tree and glared at me, like this was my fault. Well, it was my fault. Left to their own devices she’d be screwing things up for the couple and getting in the way, being a third wheel on their SuperCub romance.

“So are you happy?” Yukino asked in a glacial tone, quietly beside me. I grinned at her. Flexed some muscles so she could see the definition. She looked, huffed in irritation, and her nostrils flared to breathe my scent. Her nipples pointed, which I noticed instantly. It’s good to be the King.

“I’ve spent my days working out. I’m the healthiest I’ve ever been,” I answered by not answering her question or its implication. Turning away to focus on carrying wood and kindling to each fire pit in the row. There were nine, total, and nine prep areas so nine groups of kids can divide up and cook their lunches. They can divide the labor and do the process. It is more complicated that it looks. Fires burn, then get hot, then die off if they aren’t managed carefully. It’s genuinely an expert craft skill.

“I’m talking about Yui and that… thing,” she seethed. Jealousy, thy name is Yukinoshita. Both sisters.

“It must be nice to have your first friends, and first crush in years. Isn’t he surprising?” I asked her. “And Yui is so nice. So uncomplicated and gentle. She hug you yet?” I asked her. I saw her blush with shame.

“So that’s a yes. She’s huggy, very sweet. Imagine the kind of childhood that produces such a gentle young lady,” I reminded her. She snarled. Toying with emotions of a woman who enjoyed verbally castrating you for years is probably something I should not do, but I’m the Villain after all.

“You really do like to twist the knife,” Yukino remarked with better composure. I flexed again, watching her eyes focus again and her nipples harden once more. Still got it.

“Eh, that’s fine. I’m working out for my own reasons. Being the best me I can be. Enjoying High School while it lasts, without the complications of romance when my family will expect me to marry within my class, for political gain. The best I can hope for is a compatible life partner who has the courtesy not to carry her unfaithful activities into public, or carry around the proof of infidelity and claim it as my own spawn. That won’t do. Not with modern paternity testing, anyway. And that’s my best case. Is your own likely to be any better?” I reminded her. “Are you living your perfect high school life?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, that is a shame. I hope that the poetry you read gives you some comfort while you languish in your tower,” I offered, without a hint of real empathy. Her expression was foul, for just a moment. I flexed again, and she stiffened again. Physical reactions must be overruled constantly for Yukinoshita womenfolk. All for the clan prosperity. All to protect something valued beyond reason. Reputation, more than anything else. What a shame.

“So why were you talking to that little girl earlier?” she asked, changing the subject and attempting to bring her body back under control.

“She’s the daughter of Tsurumi-sensei, from the Home Economics department. Rumi has discovered that girls her age are bitches, her words, and asked some questions about people, philosophy, and inquired into the rumors about me.”

“Hmm. Hiratsuka-sensei was asked to look into this situation, wasn’t she?” Yukino asked. “Looks like a job for the Service Club.”

“If you like. I already talked to her. I think she’ll be okay, mostly, as much as anyone can be. She’s found a new clique to hang out with, and that’s really the best you can expect until she changes schools or graduates to Middle School,” I warned.

“Well, you’d know, wouldn’t you? Must you make yourself look like a male stripper?” Yukino asked, eyeing me up and down again. Her body was betraying her again.

“I may as well live up to the hype about me. Besides, refusing dates with all these girls is kinda fun. Your sister would know all about that,” I pointed out. “Maybe she’ll tell you about the joy of teasing.”

“That’s a lesson I’ll skip, thank you,” replied Yukino, failing to accomplish the cold voice while her nipples crinkled her summer dress and she panted downwind from me in the very faint breeze.

“You know, it probably looks like we’re dating to all those people around us,” I mentioned.

“Don’t remind me. I hate those rumors,” Yukino complained.

“And how are things going, yearning for a boy you can’t have while your first female friend in years successfully courts him?” I asked her, twisting the knife.

“Its probably what guys feel when you talk to their girlfriends and crushes, then turn them down and leave them crying and brokenhearted. They might take advantage of that, briefly, but it won’t last and you can’t build a future on a broken heart,” she answered with her usual flair for poetry. I shrugged, agreeing.

“True enough.”

Then the kids arrived and I taught them how to use a knife without cutting off your fingertips, how to make a fire that isn’t too hot to cook on, how to adjust a fire so you can first saute and then simmer your ingredients from veggies into curry you can actually eat. I think most of the kids learned something.

“Where did you learn how to do this?” asked a little girl with an empty bowl.

“Oh, I learned this from Tsurumi-sensei, who teaches cooking and home economics at Soubu. Her daughter is here,” I mentioned, pointing briefly in Rumi’s direction. She looked startled at the attention, and several girls wandered over to ask her questions about cooking. Was that mean? She felt the need to press me about rumors. Maybe she’ll make a few more friends, impressed by her family connection.

Cleanup before dark, kids went to their cabins for the evening and I went to mine, shared with the other men from our school, including Hachiman and Totsuka Saika. Both parted from their girlfriends late and arrived smelling of perfumes and arousal. They quickly went to shower and came back cleaner. Tobe cleared his throat.

“Hey, who do you like?” he asked. “Just a first initial, okay.”

“H,” I answered. “How about you, Kakeru?” I asked Tobe.

“E,” he answered, with a dumb look on his face.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, but are you aware what Rotten girls do to their boyfriends?” I asked him.

“Eh? What do you mean, Hayato?” Tobe asked.

“Have you ever heard of Pegging?” I said. I’m a villain. I admit this. I’ve admitted it before. But honestly, could ANY good come from someone dating Hina Ebina? She’s a basket case. Several minutes of internet searching later and Tobe fled the cabin to vomit.

“Yeah, that’s the correct emotional response to that discovery,” I said to myself.

“I think, for our sake, we make sure to forget whatever that was,” Saika said to Hachiman.

“Already forgotten,” Hachiman responded.

The night was otherwise peaceful and I dreamed of Haruno. I managed to wake up before anything embarrassing happened to me, thank goodness, and got back to sleep without recurring nightmares. Maybe it was the spicy curry.

The following morning was breakfast, some playing around in the nearby stream by the various women, and a few of the girls who brought swimsuits. Hiratsuka-sensei looked good in a bikini. It is her personality which prevents her getting married, which is a shame. She means well, but she doesn’t know when to stop pushing, and her emotional neediness sets off all kinds of Red Flags for men. I’ve overheard men talking about women like her during workouts, and they respect my preferred Monk Mode, since its giving me great results in my body sculpting and fitness. But I hear things just the same, and the pretty ones get passed around and thrown away for new pretty ones when they age out, or get demanding. There’s not much for the modern man in Japan to get married for, if he isn’t interested in a family, or hasn’t peaked in his earnings and financial situation. I’m barely at the beginning. I’ll be off to university and learning something valuable and approved by my parents, something to maximize my potential. With my next-level social skills and looks management at some company is possible, though I find all the stress dealing with people irritating.

Hachiman is chatting with Rumi while his sister, who has bigger boobs than Yukino, frolics with her future sister in law Yuigahama. She looks happy. I smile, meaning it for once, and join them. Its fun to be young and ignore responsibilities every once in a while. I wish others could figure this out, or structure their lives so these moments are more frequent. All the struggle and sacrifice and maneuvering for power is exhausting. And for what? The 2025 problem is coming, and Prime Minister Abe hasn’t fixed it. He’s going to literally die and leave it to the author of Love Hina. And that’s not even a joke. This actually happens in 11 years.

After showering off all the river water stink and putting on some comfortable travel clothes, we joined Sensei with our luggage and piled into rental van for our return to Chiba City. Komachi was sleeping on her brother, and Miura was sleeping on Totsuka in the back seat. Ebina was chatting with Yui and ignoring Tobe. I enjoyed the front seat, while Shizuka played the radio and sang along with old tunes as she drove, nicotine patch keeping her peppy in the rental car seat where she couldn’t smoke. It was three hours to home and it was okay. I enjoyed the scenery and was glad to return to Chiba City, get dropped off at the town center and watch sensei leave with Hachiman and Komachi for a private talk and trip home, probably. I hopped a bus and was home shortly. I needed another shower, but I got a phone call as I was drying off. Haruno. Of course.

“Come to Master Donut,” she ordered. Sigh. I put on some stylish summer clothing, a green tie and light silk jacket with matching trousers. I look good. Women’s heads turn. They stare. They want to know who I am. And someone usually does know who I am. I hear the pictures as I arrive at Haruno’s favorite coffee shop. I get coffee, and a bran muffin, still warm. With butter it is a palatable snack with some nutritional value. I eat with a fork while she glares at me, and all the photos. I look like a movie star. She looks like a movie star that’s failing to be incognito with that ridiculous hat and sunglasses too big for her face.

“Haruno, dear. Lovely to see you. Did you know I’ve just gotten back from some volunteer work for the Chiba Public School system?” I purred insouciantly.

“Really? And what might a public spirited young man in the prime of his life be doing volunteering?”

“Shizuka begged me to come assist at the summer camp as a counselor. It was lovely. I’m sorry you missed it,” I announced, so the eavesdroppers could hear. “Thanks ever so much to your family for helping with the funding of that wonderful facility. I think the children were so grateful to appreciate the outdoors.” Lots of appreciate head nodding from the various housewives. There, public service announcement accomplished. Haruno looked satisfied. I’ve done something like this before. It’s better than a bulletin board, and spreads faster than a radio announcement. All of Chiba City’s female population would know this by tomorrow morning. That’s half a million people in nine hours.

Haruno and I chatted about inconsequential and went for a walk in the city park, where the lights of Tokyo reflected across the bay as the sun vanished below the distant mountains. Fuji was visible to the Southwest, this being a clear evening, and Haruno wrapped my arm with her own, pressing her breast against me.

“You know, it isn’t nice to get Yukino all worked up,” Haruno said.

“She is a young woman now, not a child. She should understand her own body and recognize that trying to overrule her instincts with hatred isn’t going to work when she’s sitting downwind from me on a warm day.”

“Oh? And what happened?” Haruno inquired, suspecting.

“Repeated visual arousal every time I flexed my arm muscles. She finds me attractive, and her hatred is being overridden by her hormones.”

“That’s not very nice, you know,” Haruno chastened. “Most women find you attractive now. You’re probably the most popular jailbait in Chiba City.”

“I’m only jailbait for another two months. After that women will be getting physical about their intentions. And I’ll have to be careful where and when I go about my business to avoid a paternity trap.”

“Poor baby!” Haruno mocked.

“And what’s worse, I’m already standing next to the woman I want,” I answered, looking her hard in the eye. Haruno stared, then looked away.

“It can’t ever happen,” she whispered.

“I know. And that’s what burns the most,” I answered.