2,361Don't Own Oregairu
Chapter 100: A Reflection.
Context; the circumstances that form the setting for an event, statement, or idea, and in terms of which it can be fully understood, the part of something written or spoken that immediately precede and follow a word or sentence and clarify its meaning.
I will give an example.
Take today. Eventful, lot happened. Made progress, build bridges. Sagami Minami, misunderstood, not a good girl, not a bad girl, not of much importance, easy to manipulate, easier to vilify. The perfect distraction for our little high school drama. Met on roof. Talked, rehashed, made peace with our shared past, not forgiven, not forgotten. Fair enough. Thought made a breakthrough, didn't know for sure, didn't want to. Shared a meal, had a moment, learnt something new, something old, nothing of note.
Made first mistake.
Isshiki tried to kill me. Twice. Dropped flower pot, missed. Swung knife, hit. White school dress shirt in a state of disrepair, blood on collar, on clothes, missing buttons, slashes a few, and one shallow cut on the belly to make it worth. Dangerous, risk of infection, wasn't thinking then. Isshiki repented, bandaged, stopped bleeding, didn't really, was in no shape to move, to take the final course. Did still, fought, won, lost.
Need context. A lot happened, not exactly sure of everything, might remember one, might forget the other, trying to remember everything, trying to come up with explanations, conclusions, the final results, but I don't consider the inevitable truth which I refuse to accept even now : 'It matters.'
I am effected. I feel the consequences, I feel the guilt, the actions, the words, the lack of thought, the need to inflict, cause pain, hurt, vent, break. It shouldn't have, it mustn't have, I am built, molecules, atoms, muscles, tendons, tissues, the base instincts, cut off, subdued, logic like zinc, galvanized, the brittle rust, prevent, not stain, not mud, not blot, not clot. Ink, think, reflect.
But didn't.
Result, as expected, a loss of no importance.
But is.
I am effected.
I think, I recall, the countless events which might have been leading upto this. Like shows on plane crash investigations, like man-made disasters which ravage the land, the sea, the sky, I like others before me take the benefit of hindsight and try to fall asleep while making useless arguments to assuage the guilt, place blame on others, feel better, sleep better.
I don't.
I go back, return, relive, rehear, revitalize, take in, find context, make sense of the talks, the interactions, the moments, everything, anything, take them apart, put them back together and try to understand while sleep continues to evade me.
It's 2:32. I wake up at 6:00.
I start.
I believe. Different perspectives of the same narrative, the puppets, the puppeteers, their strings, cut and uncut, I threw them out in the cold rain of reason and made them take the umbrella. If two people share an umbrella, it is called, the 'Ai-Ai gasa', the 'Love-Love umbrella'. Riajuus use the symbol of an umbrella with the name of a boy and a girl on both its side as a symbol of love. Good work, nice job, keep it up. But let me borrow that umbrella for a bit because you see, I know, couples stick together, but so do criminals and the irony is, it's more or less for the exact same reason and funny enough, I think, truths, lies, facts, gossips, rumours, second hand accounts are all convicts, criminally insane, guilty, unless and until, proven otherwise and I shall, because I want context, clarity, sleep.
Miura Yumiko, the first domino to fall.
"Give me your number, Hikio." "Huh?" "Don't play dumb Hikio, I asked for your number." "Why do you want my number?" "So I can talk to you privately, you know, like normal friends do." "Wait a second Miura, are we friends?" "Well, duh! Get a clue Hikio."
I didn't. I walked, left, ran. First mistake. I should have talked, let her elaborate, tried to grow a spine, tried to look her in the eye, said something, done anything other than escape to the infirmary, which is exactly what I did, but to be fair, it was kinda unfair to expect the rest.
Ebina, the enigma. I, the second domino to fall.
"Abdominal pains…?" "Cramps Hikitani, Cramps! …It's my time of the month." "Please be gentle with me." "Don't joke Ebina." "Okay, alright. Place your palms on both sides of my belly button, with your thumb close to the fingers, almost touching them, and now use both your index fingers and draw a heart by first curving around the belly button, yeah, like that, now stop at my belly button and then move back to the original position. Now, place your hands on my back…below my ribs, apply some pressure and move down to the top of my hips. Now, from the centre of my back, massage in circular motions and move outwards towards the outer corners of my hip. Slide your hand up and repeat this thrice. Do you understand? Good. Now, position your palm on the centre of my back... and keep sliding your fingers down until they touch my tail bone. Use circular motion to massage and apply firm yet steady pressure, okay?"
Tch, damn fujoshi, making me blush, feeling hot, sweaty, bothersome, uncomfortable, weak, restless and deprived, worse for wear and even less chance of sleep. I wish I could chalk this off to flights of fancy, the wild and inappropriate imagination of a virgin, a despicable, rotten dead fish eyed loner. But unlike the rest, this did happen, and worse still, I remember every single detail vividly -the touch, the feel, the sensation, the dry throat- which oddly enough, tells me more about myself than her.
Elsewhere, four dominoes fell in succession, causing a ripple effects of minor proportions. I don't believe either accounts. Zaimokuza is known to spin stories out of proportions and make them seem not remotely believable. Allegedly, while I was in the infirmary, living through Ebina's eight circle of hell, he was making small talk with Yukinoshita.
Apparently, the two made some kinda progress, talking about writing, of course.
"Your latest draft was completely devoid of lascivious material, the likes of what Hikigaya-kun refers to as 'fan-service'." "Well you see m'lady, I have taken your previous directive into full account while writing up this new draft. I also thought it was very disrespectful of a noble man to force a fair maiden to read such lustful litanies." "Oh! That seemed oddly chivalrous of you, Zaimokuza-san." "Of course, m'lady! I am a Holy Knight after all!" "Yes, forgive me for forgetting that particular piece of trivia. You may leave now Zaimokuza-san."
Caterpillar Kawasaki, has a knack of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and he also has the bad habit of listening in on people's conversations which are meant to stay private, secret moments shared between individuals, locked and safely secured behind closed doors, stolen from time itself for themselves do get seldom ruined by this waste of human space who answers to the general call of Kawasaki Taishi.
But, I don't know whether to believe him. His retelling of the events sounds a little too perfect, down to the interactions, the dismissal, even the place and timing of the blush which kept pace with the rising awkwardness of the situation. I could have asked the man in question himself, but I would rather not, as knowing Zaimokuza, he would make it sound even more like a chapter from a slice of life novel.
But, believing those two is one thing, believing Hayama another, in that, I don't believe him at all, especially when I saw him take no ounce of pleasure in pounding me to an inch of my life in the the exact same place where I take a break from life itself, eat my lunch in solace, and enjoy the one love known to me which I call loneliness and it, my love answers back. Hayama knew it, knew it meant more to me than I can ever know, ever truly appreciate, ever fathom, and he took it from me, pried it, from my broken, bruised, lost, cold, hurt, fingers and hands.
I cannot go back there.
The reminder will be too painful. The place is gone, the steps, the solace, the quiet, the loneliness, it has forsaken me for this sleepless night of repentance which I shall spend in a different manner altogether. Guilt, comes naturally to the sinner, the right thoughts, often not. It's an irony of life which I have come to accept overtime. But, if its all the same, then if I choose to believe the words he said to me, which I know were spoken as a taunt, then I have to accept that I went looking for violence and he returned the favour, twice fold.
It was a cheap shot.
Lying about what might have conspired between them, those two, Hayama Hayato, the man who beat him and Sagami Minami, the woman, who he thought he had made peace with about half an hour ago before he threw common sense out the window like a flower pot meant for his head. It also painted a rather disturbing picture. Sagami Minami, the high school vamp. A flirt, both attractive and dangerous, wears tight clothes, paints her lips red then seduces men with her overflowing charisma and beauty, charms them out of their mind into doing whatever she pleases, whatever she wants them to do, like, for example destroying the single most popular clique in the entire school, and more importantly, the single most helpful, most reputable, high school club, in this part of the region.
Hayama will say the same, and everyone will believe.
"Are you not going to ask why I brought you here, Hayama-kun? Are you perhaps thinking, that I called you here to confess to you? You are wrong. But if I wanted to confess, which I don't, but if I did, then I would have done it in front of your precious, Miura-san, your lovely Yumiko." "I would have rejected you." "You really think so, don't you? How cute. But wouldn't." "Why not?" "Because I would have kissed you silly... Oh, this is pure gold. Hayato-kun, you are blushing, you look worried. Think I might just do what I said? Hmm? Don't worry, I won't corrupt you. But remember Hayama-kun that you did me a favour back then, you saved me, from that vile beast, Hikitani, and I would be more then happy to return the favour, anyway, anytime."
The reason why I chose not to believe this particular bit of information, other than the usual one- it coming from the mouth of the fake prince of lies, it succeeding in making me lose my focus multiple time, slip up one countless occasions and give him a bunch good opening to cause some serious damage and almost cave my head in on the concrete stairs- was the fact, that I could not imagine this scenario taking place, ever.
But, Sagami Minami is a new puzzle. I don't know her well, never made an attempt to know her well, which is obvious from our limited interactions which can further be explained by her hate for me since the whole cultural festival fiasco of last year, which is understandable and I take full responsibility for using my despicable means and methods to circumnavigate the situation. However, even now, I think, or rather, I thought, or more likely, its a bit of wishful thinking on my part, but I am hopeful, that the two of us have managed to bury the past and leave it behind where it belongs.
But, I cannot know for certain. These are the obvious failings of drawing conclusions from second hand accounts. I can never be sure. But the dominoes kept falling, the ripples kept sending waves forward and I found myself coming back to the service club for some much needed help in regards to escaping the eight level of hell that was turning out to be Ebina Hina, suffering from, menstrual cramps, and getting her sick jollies out of blue balling me with all her moans, groans, cries, writhes, and the instructions to keep massaging her tail bone.
That was enough to drive anyone up a wall and down the path of the service club with zero foot to mouth filter.
"Komachi, do you have a tampon?" "Shocking! Absolutely shocking! Despicable" "Eww! Hikki! Don't say that out loud!" "So Gross! So gross senpai!" "Onii-chan, don't do perverted stuff in school. You can get reported you know?" "Komachi what do you think I need a tampon for, huh? It's for one of my classmates, she is in pain over, you know,…menstrual cramps." "I don't think…oh,you know what onii-Chan, why don't I come along. Because let's face it you are pretty useless when it comes to this sorta things, aren't you?" "Thank you, thank you, Komachi. I love you."
Good times. Komachi asked me to kiss her on the cheek. She didn't need to ask me twice. I take it, she likes to tease the others in the club room, wants to flaunt how close we are as brother and sister to the others in the club room. There might be an invisible battle going on that I don't know about, that I don't want to know about, but it's more or less harmless, a bit of fun, slight teasing, an even slighter show of disgust over my blatant sis-con tendencies, which, I now know, Komachi reciprocates. After all, Caterpillar Kawasaki isn't the only one who listens in on conversations and believe me I am a master of the sacred art of eavesdropping.
"There is no such thing as a bro-con. Just sisters who don't love their brothers too much!" Wish I had a recorder on me at that time, Komachi's sounded so cute.
Cough, cough, moving on. More second hand accounts. Totsuka, Yuigahama, this time. Believed them, had to. Saw them, together, on the bench, talking, idle chit chat, smiles, blush, awkward. Wondered whether I was seeing too much. No. Dead fish eyes don't lie. But neither do those two. I wish I had the luxury of looking at these series of events as them, the wide eyed innocence, the honest conviction, the truth for all the see, the human failings at work, yet the believe structure to hope for a better tomorrow.
I wish them luck.
Those two would make a cute couple.
But no,
Life's not fair.
"I'm so jealous of Sai-chan, you know...it's just that you are so close to Hikki, you get to call him by his first name and I don't... and that kinda makes me jealous. I know it's stupid, but I still feel jealous of you." "...I don't mind you being jealous of me, Yui. Sometimes I feel jealous too." "Really? You get jealous over who?" "Over Hachiman of course, who else?" "Really, over Hikki? But why? "Because he is close to you Yui-chan." "…Oh, you think so." "Yeah, he is. Unlike someone I know."
Yuigahama wanted to know more. Understandable. She wanted to know more about this 'someone'. But Totsuka told me that he didn't get to finish the conversation because he was up next for tennis practice. I believed him when he said that. It was the least I could do as a friend, a lousy, good for nothing friend, but friend still. Totsuka managed a smile, Yuigahama did as well; I wasn't able. Hayama got me good, punch to the face, teeth rattled, blood in mouth.
It was a good excuse.
But comedies are better.
Behold! I stumbled upon a conversation no one in their right mind would ever listen because it would threaten the listeners sanity on every grounds. I consider overhearing this conversation as one of the most unforgiving mistakes of my life because it took place between the unlikeliest of unlikely people in the entire school, namely, Tobe Kakeru and Hiratsuka Shizuka.
Forgive me, sensei.
"Ebina-san was a lesbian?" "Tobe, when did I say that?" "Y'did sensei. You said she was havin' girl problems, you know? And I get it…well I think I kinda do. I mean just like when a guy has girl problems maybe lesbians could also have girl problems, you know what I mean? But she doesn't have to worry sensei, I will support her in every life choice she makes. You can bet on it!" "...I don't have the time to teach you about those kinda stuff, please leave and, and just for the record Tobe, don't stare at a girl's breast while talking to them. We really hate it when guys do that." "Well that's not actually mah fault sensei. It's just that you have very big breasts, is all."
Till now, the dominoes were falling, one by one. That last comment turned the ignition keys in a bulldozer and the poor butterflies, the ripples, the dominoes, never saw what was coming to mow them down the road. Next think I know that beast of a woman was unleashed upon the school grounds and out for blood, my blood, even though, I had nothing to do about it. It was Tobe's fault, his fault alone. But I might have ended up paying the ultimate price. It was unfair. Even then, I managed to save an innocent bystander from the path of destruction. I hid well and I allowed Miura a good hiding spot right beside me as I watched the age old saying come true.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
"I know you are out there Hikigaya. Come out, come out where ever you are. Hehe! Hehe!" "Oh God, Hikio!" "Listen Miura. I know this might be a problem, but it seems like we have to stay like this for a while until she moves out of here and looks for me somewhere else. Please Miura, don't give away our position and stay right down here, okay?" "I WILL FIND YOU HIKIGAYA HACHIMAN! I WILL FIND YOU!"
Scary times. We hid together, in the tight spot, definitely touching, almost embracing, me, trying my best to keep her head down and out of sight. Didn't think much of it back then, but Miura, didn't make a single complaint. Guess, she was scared as well. As she should have been. An enraged, out for blood, sensei is no laughing matter. The people in our school know this well and the people who are deemed responsible for making her lose her temper are often thrown into the hungry jaws of the unmated lioness as a sort of self preservation tactic.
I applaud. But that time, I thought different. Perhaps, it was a change of perspective. Life and death situation often does that to people, staring into those bottomless pits of rage, escaping the flames of her infinite gaze, I felt cleansed and invincible because of the whole placebo effect. Or maybe I wanted to annoy the hell out of Miura. Why? Don't know. Guess I felt alive, which was stupid.
But I behaved like an idiot, surprised Miura and probably saved Tobe's life.
"Hikio, why shouldn't I be angry with, Tobe?" "Well, because, like I said Miura, he is an idiot and also he was worried about Ebina. You know she was sick, right? And she had to be taken to the infirmary...well, anyway, like I said, Tobe wanted to see her, to know if she was doing alright or not. I don't think he did anything tremendously bad and well, he loves her and we have already established that he is an idiot so I guess, he gets a free pass. All is fair in love and war, they say."
Tobe, your welcome. Feel free to step in front of a truck, anytime now.
I wish. But wishes are for children who believe in fairy tales. Funny enough, grown men, women, man-children, have fairy tails too. Spun in a thin, almost invisible yarn of the softest silk, breathing the air we live, it almost lives our lives, and often ends it in a game of make-believe, playing pretend, telling lies, covering the truth. I don't believe, Hayama Hayato. I don't believe him, I don't want to believe him. But sometimes, the truth stares me down and I blink. In between our little melee, Hayama wanted to take the upper hand, he had it, but still, he wanted more, both literally and figuratively. So, by mentioning the mere syllables of a name, he managed to throw me off a flight of stairs and even now I don't know what surprised me more. Her name on his lips, or their plan to meet up for coffee.
Orimoto, my gift that keeps on giving.
"It's just plain coffee between two new friends. Besides you are really not my type." "You are very funny Orimoto-san. I'm glad we got to know each other today." "Same here, same here. And if you are wondering Hayama-kun, I prefer my men a little more real and genuine."
Tch, that blonde idiot. Expects me to feel sorry, wants a pat on the back, a kind word, a note of false sympathy. Get a clue, you tool. Not everyone is gonna be kind, not everyone is gonna be a friend. You're not special. You will screw up, make mistakes, be misunderstood. Orimoto taught me that lesson when I needed it the most. Hayama, you can't find common footing by throwing her name in our little fight. You can stand up a flight of stairs and look down on me all you want, let gravity do half the work for you. But you did see the look in me eyes as I got back on my feet, and you did see the look of disgust etched on my face.
I spat blood on the concrete stairs, I heard you gulp, I heard you take a step back, but we both knew it was too late.
You shouldn't have mentioned her name.
"Do you have any regrets, Hikigaya?" "Plenty" "Yeah I have some too...One of them is you."
The look of horror, the absolute fear, the thought that this might be it, I might kill him, kills us both, all because he said some girl's name, it worked wonders on his face, like a botox injection gone wrong, like a messed up plastic surgery, like firing a nail gun to the face. I enjoyed having the upper hand, the real one, not the fake one, the pretend one, back when he was sniveling in the service club, letting me shove him around a bit, knocking off a few chairs, pushing down the table, trying to make it look like I was out of control, making Yukinoshita see the old childhood friend in need, offering her the chance to be the better person, take the moral high ground and gain a sense of closure over some injustice done to both of them in the past. I can see it now, but not back then.
That was the point. But the second brawl was different. I took place outside, away from the service club, and more importantly away from the judgmental eyes and high morals of Yukinoshita Yukino, who had by then decided to portray me using the paint brushes of her dear childhood friend, Hayama Hayato. The two had history. It might have been painful, it might have been tragic, but at the end of the day, the foundation stone were laid on common family grounds. But now, I was the problem, the thorn in the side and her old friend had decided to help her help me. How quaint. Let's take it outside, trade a few fists, settle it like men and it was all going according to plan, up until then.
This was going to be real fight, in the sense that he wanted to beat me, see blood on the floor, see me broken and bruised, afraid, intimidated, scared and to his credit the job was half finished, I was half finished, consciousness, swimming in and out, blinking, in and out, breathing heavy, getting knocked down, again and again and again, this time down a flight of stairs. It was going to work. He would win. He knew judo. I was no fighter. But then he had to say her name and ruin his chances.
"What do we do now?" "I don't know myself. We both have regrets, we can both try to put them behind us for some kinda closure and move forward. We should definitely meet more" "I have heard that before, Orimoto." "This time it will be different. What do you say? Friends?"
Friends, I had returned, repeated, tackled, thrown, thrashed, slammed. Blonde head on hard surface, intent to kill, strangle, maim. Won't let him breath, won't let him talk, won't take off these hands of mine, won't let him pry open these fingers either. Palms itch, throats covered, any second now, feel the adam's apple bop. That's him, taking the last gulp, the very last one. It will all be over soon, you will be dead, I will be in prison.
This is genuine.
But then the breathe of another name and it was all over for the both of us. I never saw the kick, didn't even get to turn, there was no chance to block, and I wasn't so far gone, as to raise my hand on a woman, let alone, Kawasaki Saki. Funny enough, she saved me from committing my first murder in cold blood. Funnier still, she didn't stop our fight.
She became the referee. Hayama didn't like the idea. I kept my mouth shut; he didn't. Began telling a story, which I didn't want to believe, but since, Kawasaki said nothing, I had to believe it, believe every single word. Tch. Blonde bastard to the end, got some payback from my little beating. The rom-com gods look out for him, I guess.
He told, what I thought was a made up story, about how once, Kawasaki Saki needed a little bit of money for his little brother, but then she didn't want to take it from him because, earlier he had accused her of being a no good extortionist, which was completely false. I won't lie, but hearing Hayama speak such utter nonsense, I thought, hurrah, brain damaged, but then, Kawasaki blushed and ruined the whole thing.
A purple scrunchie as collateral for a loan of few bucks, that's the concussion talking.
"You are making this needlessly complicated Kawasaki-san." "Look Richie, a few bucks might not matter to ya but they matter to me. So what will it be?" "Very well. If it's all the same to you, I will take that violet scrunchie as collateral." "...Okay, take it, but look it might not mean much to ya but this was a gift from my little sister, so its priceless to me." "Beautiful, simply beautiful."
Even as he repeated those words, finished this tall tale of his, I knew he was telling the truth, because I could see it in his eyes, he was hiding something. A girl hands you something she wears on her hair, you take it, call it beautiful a couple of times and then what, that't it, you do nothing else? Am I the only rotten, despicable, disgusting pervert in this insane world.
No I wasn't. Hayama had me in a headlock. Kawasaki was watching, but she wouldn't interfere, she couldn't hear the word, I could, I did, because it was meant for me. "Jasmine." I pictured it. The blonde bastard, as soon as she left him on the roof, I could see him bring the purple scrunchie up to his nose and take a good, long sniff.
Saw red. Bit him, broke skin, tasted blood. Delicious.
But Kawasaki disapproved. Biting, not good. Tch, this is what happens when you introduce rules to a school brawl, have a referee, let her be fair, and stubborn and intelligent enough to see through all the macho bullshit being thrown around like warm piss sprayed out of a tiny penis on the back wall behind the school to get a sense of juvenile victory. It was stupid, Kawasaki knew that, but she was indulging it and I could offer the same courtesy.
Beside, when it came to stories, I had him beat.
I told Hayama about the time I stumbled upon Miura, having a sort of heart to heart, therapy kinda session with the Hikigaya household pet cat, Kamakura. This time around it was me, getting the mad look. Kawasaki went and whacked Hayama in the head, saying he had cut off the air circulation to my head, because he had put me in a headlock for too long. The bastard waved it off, but he looked concerned.
I gave him a reason not to, told him, how Miura had a good time, talking to a fat cat that belonged to us, then with the people capable of actual, human conversation in their entire clique, which happens to be the most popular on in the whole school; or wait, used to.
That got the blood pumping, but I had more.
"You know Cat-san, I think I am very unlucky, you know? At first I had a crush on a guy who was totally my type. He was very handsome and super popular with everyone and anyone and in my heart I knew he is a nice guy with a kind heart, but then I met this guy who was the total opposite of him. He was creepy and rotten and he had this pair of dead fish eyes…ugh! I mean he looks despicable! But very soon I realised that I was wrong, wrong about both of them! The guy who I liked turned out to be something I did not expect and the guy I kinda hated also turned out to be something… I did not expect. I'm not boring you am I, Cat-san? No! Aaw~ You're such a nice cat!. Why can't the guys be more like you? You listen to me when I am feeling down and you also say such kind things to make me feel better. You are really nice Cat-san! Thank you for making me feel a little happy... But I am still not feeling very good with how things are going for me right now, you know. I mean, I pretty much gave up on one guy because he was a complete tool, but the second guy is kinda dull and he probably has no clue about my feelings. But how is that even possible? I mean I am being extremely subtle in my approach but he should at least have some idea over why I am sticking to him like glue and tagging around him like lost kitty, don't you think Cat-san?"
Overdid it, went 'Nya~'. The punch to the face was the right kind of clarity I needed. Should have thanked, Hayama. Oh wait, why? We were still fighting it out like real men. Hate the expression. Nothing endorses the futility and stupidity of a situation more than that statement. Luckily nothing was off the table. Hayama continued throwing his punches, stick and jab, stick and move. It was close. Hayama led an aggressive charge. I couldn't keep up. Plus, the lies were piling up as well. But a right cross missed its mark, and he followed it with the truth which hurt most.
Hiratsuka Shizuka, the one woman, forever left alone.
"Well Hikigaya, you seem to have spent quite a busy day today, haven't you? You listened in on my private conversations, brought your pet cat to school, ignored multiple school regulations, paid no attention to me during class, and didn't even submit one of your usual trashy essays later on. So, tell me Hikigaya, what kind of punishment would you like today?" "Sensei, please, don't punish me. I will do anything." "Good. Just what I needed to hear. Well then, you can start by giving me a foot rub." "…excuse me?" "You heard me Hikigaya. If you want my help to get out of this mess then I demand a nice foot rub. My feet are a bit sore from all the standing. Teaching is a tough job, you know. So, go right ahead... what are you waiting for, Hikigaya?"
Lying's easy, convincing's hard, but Hayama had it all locked down, prepackaged and selling in no time. It was so great, so convincing, that you want to believe it, need to believe it. Hell, I was seconds from believing it, but then remembered, I was there, in the faculty room. It was us, me and sensei. We know what happened, what was said and done. This wasn't it, but it wasn't a lie either.
The most convincing lies are the closest to the truth.
Knowing hurt, knowing he knew and had power over us hurt more. But luckily, the fight would soon be over. We were both tired, hurting, bruised. Kawasaki waited. Later she was joined by another spectator, the recent alumni from our school, Shiromeguri Meguri. It was rather poetic. The worse came to close under the heels of one of the one's who kicked it off.
Talking about senpai, Shiromeguri Meguri.
"I like boys who are a couple of years younger than me. Oh, it's very natural for women to like younger men. In fact, didn't Hiratsuka-sensei just, oh never mind, forget it! It's normal. Like a foot fetish! You look the type, Hikigaya-kun." "…Well, I am flattered, senpai." "I would keep that in my mind, after all you are my kohai."
Hayama was smart. He knew, he needed to malign sensei's image for the plan to work. With her credibility shot, because of some wild rumours, and a secret relationship with one of her students, who also happens to be one of the three members of the service club, it would have been obvious, classic, textbook, open and shut, the old, female teacher seducing the young, male student. It would read like a trashy romance novel and people would eat it up. What's worse, the credibility of it all could be traced back to a poorly made statement, made by one of her former students, regarding one of her past relationships. It didn't help, that the former student, was also the former student council president, Shiromeguri Meguri. Thus, of course she was telling the truth- not making an idle comment, not air a passing thought, not projecting herself in the shoes of an older woman, a role model perhaps, maybe reflecting, seeing her future self, then making a judgement call, from an objective point of view- no, no, no, she was telling the absolute, certain, perfect, factual truth.
Factual truth's an oxymoron, you morons.
"I am supposed to tell you that Haruno-senpai is in the building and she is looking for you, as we speak."
Heard it twice now, the exact same thing, said in the exact same manner, by the exact same woman. It's been so long since I heard it again. Last time I was a virgin, trying to run from the inevitable meeting, the known consequences and the woman behind the fake smiles. Her name was, Yukinoshita Haruno. This time, I was fucked up, screwed, hurting bad. Took a beating, dished out some punishment, and now I wait, linger, try. Get my breathe back, get up one last time, man up, ball up, make a fist. Swipe out his knees, catch the look of surprise, watch him fall back down, but don't let him have the satisfaction of hitting the ground. Throw balled fist, make good contact, then throw in the towel and call it a day.
Deserve it.
Didn't deserve the help. Thank God, Zaimokuza's brand of help.
"You cannot pass oh Empress of Darkness! I, Blade-master General of the hidden school of Sobu; wielder of the knowledge of ecchi and moe, forbade thee! The light of this library will not avail you. Amaterasu! Go back from whence you came. YOU SHALL NOT PASS! Colonel Hikigaya has trusted me with his life and I shall honour that trust with my life. Do your worst, oh foul one! But your conquest stops here. You shall not be going much farther anymore." "It's not nice to speak loudly in a library, you know? Tsk, tsk. I might have too teach you a lesson."
But of course, in while telling his story, Zaimokuza didn't tell me 'the lesson', said, it was better to hear it from the mouth of the monster. Tch, Haruno a monster. Demoness, sure, but monster, no. That's me. Got a good insult out of it though. Don't know why Zaimokuza decided to inform me about that particular bit of trivia, allegedly, of course. "Where's Hikigaya-kun, Fat Gandalf." "...H-H-He's se-seeking sa-sanctuary in the te-tennis c-court. Master Totsuka has offered him a safe haven."
Zaimokuza failed me, Totsuka too, but I don't begrudge them.
Haruno can be difficult.
"You remind me of this guy I met in the library today. He tried to lie to me as well. But it ended very badly for poor man will have nightmares for life. But you Totsuka-san, I seem to like you and I don't really want cause you any problem. So~ tell me where is, Hachiman?" "I really don't know Yukinoshita-san, I am sorry." "You are Hikigaya-kun's friend" "I-I really should be heading back to my practice." "You look nervous, Totsuka-san~"
Breaking eggs, breaking people. For Haruno, it's the same. And now she was searching the school, looking for me. I thought I needed help. But after the failure that was Zaimokuza and Totsuka, I branched out a little and looked elsewhere. Didn't need to look far though.
As it so happens, Miura found me, hiding. Typical, but not the conversation.
"If you want I will help you in any way I can." "No Miura, stay out of this. I don't want you to get involved in this mess." "Well too bad! You don't get a say in this Hikio! If I say I wanna get involved then I will get involved, and, and there is no one around here who can stop me from getting involved." "Miura, I don't-" "I don't care Hikio. You will get me help! I won't listen to anyone who says otherwise not even you!"
Miura wasn't a fighter, but neither was I. That didn't stop me from going, head to head, toe to toe, with Hayama Hayato. But Miura, didn't even know who I was talking about. At first she thought it was Yukinoshita, the younger, because, for her, she was the cold, vile, slab of evil. She hadn't heard of her older sister much, didn't thought it was a big deal, thought, she could handle it alone. The name Yukinoshita Haruno didn't send shivers down her spine. That was not necessarily a good thing.
But her mistake was rectified swiftly. The plan was simple, a show of strength, a battle of numbers. One vs. Five. Haruno vs. Yukino, Miura, Saki, Yui, me.
It was complete chaos
"My, my Hikigaya kun, seems like you invited everyone into our little soirée, hmm?" "Yes I did Yukinoshita-san. Are you scared?" "Nope, nuh-uh, none whatsoever." "Don't just give up Hikio! She is just lying to us. Of course, she is scared!" "It seems highly unlikely Miura-san. Your ability to scare nee-san is on par with an ant's attempt in trying to scare off a descending boot." "Why you little…" "That does it! Yer going down bitch!" "All brawn and no brains. How boring~" "Let me go ya bitch!" "Careful now. If I hear any more bad words coming from your mouth then I might accidentally dislocate your wouldn't want that now would you?" "Enough! Let her go!" "But I don't wanna~" "Yukinoshita-san please. It was my mistake in getting them involved, it won't happen again." "It wasn't your mistake Hikki. We really wanted to help you, isn't that right, Yukinon?" "That is not a correct assumption Yuigahama-san. It was never my intention to help Hikigaya kun over whatever quarrel he has with nee-san. My purpose for confronting nee-san are very much my own. Whatever indirect benefits this vile person gets from my actions are simply collateral and unintended. "You know, for all your talks about confrontation and what not, you have pretty much done nothing except give long speeches, Yukinoshita-san." "The same can be said for you Miura san" "Yukinon, Miura don't fight." "ENOUGH! Don't you see! This is what she wants, this is all her doing. She is manipulating us into fighting each other." "That's not exactly true Hikigaya-kun. They barely needed my help to start this little show. C'mon girls. Fight it out! An all out cat fight between four beautiful girls will surely go viral!"
Thoughts overflowing, too fast, too much, can't do it, need to sleep, can do that either. Reflecting is a complex thought process. Lying in bed at night, while relieving a fight, blow by blow, which happened earlier this afternoon, while thinking further back to a series of events which happened over the course of an entire month and trying to see them as individual dominoes in a pattern, flaps of butterfly wings, ripples in waters is...difficult to fathom.
Give up? No. Not then over a false semblance of action, not now over a true peace of mind.
I regrouped like back then.
"You heard her, right!? She is just doing this for her own amusement. But you guys don't need to do this! Believe me! You don't have to do this! In fact there is a much better alternative within your grasps. Think about it for a second. In a one on one fight, none of you stand a chance against her but if all four of you combine your strength and surround her, then there might be a chance." "Isn't that a bit too much?" "Yeah! If all four of us attack her then won't she be dead. But then again, killing her would feel great. I never thought I would say this but I actually agree with her." "Last chance Yukinoshita-san. Go home and never show your face to any of us ever again."
We thought we won.
"Okay then. I give up."
Big mistake.
"Nee-san what are you doing?" "Why Yukino-chan didn't you just hear what I said, you beat me fair and square… well not quite fair but it's the thought that counts. And you know what they say about getting beat don't you. They say if you can't beat them, then join them."
I should have paid attention to her words. It was a numbers game. She said it and delivered. There it was, we had her outnumbered, it was five against one. Yukino, Yui, Saki, Miura, me vs. Haruno. But then, a wild card entered the ring and the scale were tipped in her favour, and by, her, I meant Hiratsuka Shizuka-sensei. Every head chose to bow in front of her might, even the all powerful Yukinoshita Haruno.
But by default, Haruno won.
And of course, I came close.
Haruno understands me best; Shizuka, the most. I learnt later, much, much later, that those two were the unlikeliest of drinking buddies and would often hangout together to cure their boredom. Haruno had faith in Shizuka and she could trust her to know the right thing and do the right thing. Haruno, also, loved to plan ahead and take the most random of possibilities into account. The five vs. one scenario didn't escape her notice. Thus, she had informed Shizuka to drop by and remove the point of contention from the scene, i.e. me.
Shizuka walked amidst the ensuing chaos, gave a look to those gathered in the room, threw a silent dare in the open to continue on with the ruckus, a challenge to test her dwindling patience, make her snap like a high voltage outlet and then bear the responsibility of having her go haywire. Shizuka didn't acknowledge the abrupt silence which descended. She only gave me the time to form my own set of conclusions. I didn't need a minute. I was responsible for making things worse. Thus, it would be best if I removed myself from the scene and left with her. Haruno expected the same. She also knew, the others were neither brave nor stupid to raise a voice against their irate homeroom teacher. Hence, no one asked any questions, since no one wanted them answered.
Now, when I said, I left with her, I meant I went home with her; her being Shizuka-sensei. But it's wasn't like lover walking into the sunset, holding hands, making foolish plans for an uncertain future while having eyes only for a night of sin. No, no, that wasn't the case. But it's also not like a typical teacher-student relationship. I know this much, she knows it too. It doesn't quite have the feel of the forbidden, the crass talk behind crossing invisible moral lines, nor the cheap thrills of the worst kept secrets and the biggest, most grotesque lies ever told where people run around in circles, get caught, shift blame, betray themselves.
Ours isn't a romance of sort, it never was. It was the luxury of the lazy, coming to live down in short moments of convenience, limited to the bitter sweet aftertaste of reaching a conclusion and coming to an understandings of what is what, and what is not. Thus, for the record the two of us, i.e. Hiratsuka Shizuka, the teacher and Hikigaya Hachiman, the student, never engaged in any kind of sexual activities.
Full body massages don't count -
Standing in her bedroom, waiting for her to undress, watching her slip into something more comfortable, a small, snug towel for instance. Taking in her alluring appearance, gathering the courage to ask her to lie down on her bed, to better accommodate her exposed back and bare legs. Her obliging, me helping along. My hands, fingers gliding over her skin, trying to comfort and her luscious voice, her deep sighs, her heavy moans, proving too be much for a mere virgin to bear. The stiffening embarrassment which followed, the sweet consideration she had to spare, asking him to avail her bathroom, take care of his growing pains.
Yet, the daft woman, didn't know her true worth.
I set the record straight.
"You are a very beautiful woman, sensei. What ever made you think otherwise? And, and, what you call 'young' is just another word for plain immaturity. You shouldn't compare yourself to them, you are already on a very higher level." "You are just saying that, Hikigaya." "No I'm not,sensei. Take this situation for example. If this was anyone else, any of those girls, let it be Yukinoshita or Yuigahama, then I guarantee you that they would be extremely grossed out over the entire incident and they would not even think for a second about my painful condition. Yukinoshita would have insulted me and called me names and Yuigahama would probably be so embarrassed by it that she might probably turn herself into a stone statue or worse, she might actually text people and ask them for advice on how to deal with me during this sensitive moment of time. And, and, Miura and Kawasaki, they would have killed me on the spot." "Perhaps, you never thought about your old homeroom teacher." "Sometimes I thought. But today I saw you in a new light,...Shizuka."
After the massage, she asked me to wash her back in the shower; I did.
- that don't count either.
But what did count though was the lack of consideration as an older brother. The useless gomi-chan, I am, I had forgotten that Komachi had been waiting for me to come home back home. She knew more than something about the circumstances of my departure, the company with which I left, but she had no reasonable idea over my extreme lateness. It had her worried. She tried to keep herself occupied, tried to cook up a storm, not think, not think the worst. Deep breath, small pep-talk to self, cook curry, wait, and wait and wait; simple.
It wasn't even close. But with the faintest clicks of the door, the waiting, the worrying was over. I was greeted home with a hug, a smile.
"Onii-chan?" "Yeah, I am back. Komachi. Are you alright?" "Yes, Komachi is fine, Onii-chan...but you, you're such a gomi-chan! Komachi was thinking you…you…where were you Onii-chan? Komachi was scared …When you didn't come back I thought you were caught in another accident. I waited, I worried, I cooked everything you like, I even drew you a warm bath, but you, stupid, stupid, Hachiman!" "...Komachi, I'm sorry for scaring you my dear imouto. It won't happen again. You can let go off me now, I won't go anywhere, okay?"
As brother and sisters we embraced, found solace in a small bubble of affection. But I had to earn her forgiveness. Even though, she said, I was forgiven, it didn't felt like I had earned it. That bugged me. Ah, bugs, hate those. I' m her brother, I'm better than some bug. After everything Komachi has done for me, I had to do something in return.
But what? I didn't know.
But the answer came to me as Komachi stood, wrapped in a fluffy pink towel, short wet hair, stuck to nape, water dripping from flushed cheeks, flowing down the hollow of her neck, vanishing under the valley of her small breasts; chaste modesty hidden behind a small towel but her calves and legs open for scrutiny. She had taken a warm bath, thinking it would help her aching back, because of the long hours spent, hunched over a desk, studying.
It didn't work. Luckily, I had a better solution.
Pour lotion on palms, form a thick lather, then squeeze lotion directly onto back. Lower hands, place them below lower back, apply gentle pressure, wait for unfavourable reactions. If none, move palms, across the small of her back, then gently trace upwards. Smooth out shoulder blades, soften tense bundles the her spine. Be methodical, be rhythmic, constantly rub palms, up and down her back.
It worked for a teacher, it would for a student. Back rubs, worked miracles, talking helped too.
"A young girl like you needs their beauty sleep, you know" "Don't worry Onii-chan. Your Komachi is already beautiful…maybe not like your club mates but still…" "Nonsense Komachi! In my eyes you are the best, the most beautiful, the prettiest...although my eyes are like that of a rotten dead fish…" "No they are not Onii-chan, your eyes are…okay, I guess."
Her pains dissolved, she relaxed, drew comforting breaths. I left her with a kiss on the forehead, wishing goodnight. But handling a service club request on the same, proved to be rather difficult.
I found that out pretty soon.
"Well Saki, what's the request?" "I got a part-time job in a massage parlor. It's a business run by one of our relatives. They just need another pair of hand on the workplace and I kinda applied for it since the pays great and the work itself is not that much. But, I need a volunteer...for my practice session."
And I answered with 'huh.'
There's no excuse. I deserved what was coming to me. But in my defense, I thought it wouldn't be much of a big deal. Giving massages, getting massages, there can only be so much different. If the worse comes to worse, I will simply back off, not complete the request, no big deal.
I mean it couldn't be that hard, right?
That itself was a poor choice of word.
Massage parlours often had their woman staff wear a rather form flattering uniform. Thus, Kawasaki Saki, greeted me, wearing a black asymmetrical styled tunic with a mandarin collar and princess seams which fastened at the front by shank buttons and had a centre back pleat and dual side vents to better accommodate her movements. But the hem of her tunic which was extremely short and came just below her thighs, leaving her long and creamy legs bare.
Pants didn't seem to be a part of the ensemble.
It made Saki extremely vulnerable.
"I didn't pick the uniform, okay! I mean, it's short, but I don't feel bad wearing it." "You look nice, I mean it." "Not slutty, then? "No, not at all. Saki, you don't have anything to worry about. You look nice in anything you wear and this tunic is no exception."
But the leotard she wore next was not nice for my well being. It was a white leotard, backless, with a scooped neckline and wide armholes. Her entire back laid exposed and the thin shoulder straps traveled down to cover her bottom, while again, leaving her legs and arms completely bare.
I wasn't thinking straight. That's the only reason I can give to explain the following situation. Kawasaki gave me a choice. Go first, or go next. Me, massaging Kawasaki, in that outfit. Her, massaging me, as I lay half naked on the massage table. It wasn't much of a choice. But, at the end, I tried to fight the losing battle against the inevitable and went with the, tried and tested method. Saki laid down on the table, I gave the massage.
Taking helped both of us relax.
"Should I get some lotion for you?" "Yeah, um, could you bring the lavender scented one. I like the smell and it helps me stay calm and relaxed." "Uh-huh. Well then, I will be applying this lotion on your entire back, starting from your shoulder blades to the small of your back. Always start from the lower back then slowly make your way upwards. Don't break the rhythm, change the pattern or the stoke. And be careful while working the neck." "Ya are not planning on strangling me are ya?" "The thought crossed my mind. But you will probably walk it off in a day and find another new place to work within a week." "Not before I kill ya after ya kill me" "That's a given, Saki."
But, of course, when the tables were turned, I overreacted.
"Do ya want a lilacs or lavender?" "Neither. And I am not getting undressed for this. You can just massage my back over my clothes. I don't think I will even notice the difference." "Don't be such a wuss, Hachiman. Even I got changed into more suitable clothes before getting a massage. And I'm not asking for much. You can just remove y-your s-shirt."
But that wasn't the main problem.
"What's wrong?" "Saki, you're…you are…You are sitting on me!" "So, I wasn't able to reach your entire back earlier but now, in this position I can. What's wrong? Am I too heavy for ya Hachiman?"
Trick question, that didn't help. She wasn't wearing anything underneath that leotard, that didn't help either. But imagining Zaimokuza in red speedo, while Saki worked the knots outta my back, helped me the most. Luckily I escaped before it was too late, found a public restroom, and took care of business. And, no, I didn't feel sorry for leaving Saki back in the massage parlour, looking bewildered and confused over my sudden disappearance. I had completed the request. She wanted a volunteer for one of her practice massage sessions; I obliged.
Things could have gone worse, a lot worse.
And it did, soon.
One of the earliest indications of Sagami's growing hatred towards me could be chalked up to this isolated episode. The Cultural Festival Fiasco, as some came to call it, was a distant memory. Nobody remembered what happened, nobody remembered what it was about, nobody gave a damn. It had lost all significance in the overflowing excitement of youth and the rosy coloured rainbows of high school life.
But Sagami couldn't forget it. She was left red faced, humiliated. Her flaws out in the open, lights shined upon, talked in corridors, rumors on grounds, giggles behind back. It must have been horrible. I did what I could, but I couldn't do more, couldn't solve everything, couldn't help, always. In a sense, she was right. I was responsible for her downfall. I am to blame. I used a sick and twisted means to help her save some face after she abandoned her duties in the middle of the cultural festival and hid in the roof, knowing, she would be found.
I am sorry for making myself the villain of your narrative.
But Sagami was sorry too, for being the villain in mine.
My laugh is creepy. I didn't need Sagami to point that out. But she did, called me creepy, told me to jump off a cliff. It was the same, song and dance of old. It didn't bother me much. I have developed a thick skin. Also, Yukinoshita's insults were more cutting. But, of course, the others came to help me out. I didn't need the help, but nobody asked for my opinion. Before I could process what was even happening the combined might of Miura, Yui and Saki took it upon themselves to knock Sagami down a peg or four.
Sagami Minami was no Yukinoshita Haruno. Three vs. one was too much. But, for the sake of appearance, even though, she considered, Yui, an airhead, Miura, an equal, Saki, a delinquent, she had to put up a brave front, make a stand, and win over this confrontation, which had me in the middle. To her, losing to them, equaled losing to me. She couldn't have that, not no more.
But her loss was inevitable.
"Minami don't be mean!H-Hikki is not a creep, you know? "Don't be such an airhead Yui. If you don't think he isn't a creep then you clearly need to get your head examined." "You said enough Sagami! Apologize to Yui this instant!…And while you're at it, you better say sorry to Hikio as well." "Is that creep your friend, Miura? Wow! You have such low standards these days, don't you?" "Watch your mouth ya sissy before I decide to break your jaw. Showing a little respect won't cost ya a thing, will it?" "What? Are you friends with Miura, too, Kawasaki-san." "Tch, as if, no. I'm speaking up for lazy-ass over there; he sure as hell ain't speaking up for himself."
The dominoes well falling in a rush. I had to keep account, but it was happening to quick, too much. In that one day, one moment, one instance, Sagami put a different spin on the whole situation. I can't know for sure, don't know what she thought back then, but, the resentment she had for me, gave birth to hatred for all of those who chose to defend me. I think, it was the slap in the face she needed, to go down the path she did, taking down the things we did to her: Miura's clique, my club.
In a way, this was like the situation with Haruno. Five vs. One, we lost. Four vs. One, we won. But, this time around, I didn't need, Shizuka-sensei, to come in and remove me from the scene of contention. I was capable of leaving on my own. Thus, amidst, all the nerves and tension, the stand-off still on a stalemate, bickering going on, I walked off without so much as a nod of acknowledgement to those who stood up for me, defended my honour in the name of camaraderie and friendship. I was a loner, a rotten individual, both, not necessarily exclusive.
I had nothing worth saving.
Except my sanity.
When I left the classroom, I accidentally stumbled upon, Shizuka-sensei and I told her about what was taking place in the class, and why I was out, roaming the corridors. Needless to say, she was not pleased. She took no joy, telling me, that Yukinoshita Haruno, was back in school and she has been meaning to talk to me over something important. Now, important talk for Haruno, usually meant, asking me things about her younger sister, Yukino, teasing me a little, and taking pleasure in the face of my suffering.
That wasn't the case this time, but I didn't know that and sensei, didn't feel the need to tell me. I didn't realise it back then, but maybe, she was being careful, not wanting to discuss sensitive matters, which might be overheard.
On both occasions, Haruno had come, looking for me, because, she had found some disturbing rumours, spread on the internet. It was regarding certain people in school, some of the students, and as a concerned alumni she wanted to check things out with one of the teachers one of the students. i.e. Hiratsuka Shizuka and me.
But, of course, Haruno had lied to us. The rumours being spread didn't concern some unknown students from our school. No, each of the names, targeted by this viscous circle of lies and misinformation, happened to be people, who came to know me, and who I came to know in return.
Haruno. Hayama. Ebina. Isshiki. Tobe. Orimoto. Shiromeguri. Sagami. Totsuka. Saki. Shizuka. Taishi. Zaimokuza. Yui. Yukino. Yumiko, me...Komachi.
Eighteen, total.
I won't come to know them all.
Rumours; a circulating story or report of uncertain or doubtful truth, an unverified account, an interesting bit of storytelling or a juicy piece of news that might be true or invented, and quickly spread from idiot to idiots, across a wide range of social media platforms, without giving a damn about the private, personal, sensitive nature of the details of the lives of those individuals who are now laid bare in the web, naked in stream, for everyone to like or dislike, and leave a comment.
What I hadn't know about rumours is that, they posses the latent tendency to have power over our lives, even without our expressive knowledge or understanding. It's some sneaky level of psychological manipulation which we don't even realise until it's too late; there is no consent. What's out there is out there, and it rots and smells and we have to live with the consequences.
But from the outset, I would have realised that these rumours were not meant for the public in general. There were no pictures, no video clips, no links to other sites. Even our names were changed, to the effect, that not a lot of people would even make the connection to match us to the counterparts. Thus, there was not chance of these rumours spreading like wildfire online, no chance of going viral across social media platforms, no picture of us appearing in tabloids, no news panel dedicating an entire prime time spot to discuss our sensation.
No, there was no danger. But, where there's smoke, there's fire. Perspective matters because its liable to change, vary from person to person. What I would have seen as rumours, Haruno saw, as veiled threats to her person.
According to some random person in the internet, Haruno was willing threaten to threaten the well being of Komachi, to have me come down, falling under her heels for a lifetime of servitude. But because, I am a creepy, dead fished eyed, sis-con, I used my masculine strength, to dominate over the feminine, weak willed Haruno and grabbed her so hard, that it left bruises. It went on and on about how she was thrilled and frightened and I invited myself over to her place to "frighten each other some more."
It was a disgusting narrative.
"Don't smile Haruno. Promise me! You will not touch a strand of hair on my Komachi." "You are hurting me, Hachiman. I didn't expect this from you." "I don't care. You have hurt so many people before and you will continue to hurt many more people in the future. It's in your nature, Haruno." "I don't think you understand, you are really hurting me. Please stop, Hachiman! You are frightening me." "Yes... let's frighten each other some more... I don't think I have ever been to your place, Haruno."
People have to learn how to deal with rumours. Some try ignoring it, stay silent, turn a blind eye, wait for it to die down, wait for people's attention span to dry up, do nothing except, sit, wait, observe. I would have been one of them, but sometimes you need to take some action, gather thoughts, make a plan and plan a response.
For that I needed, Haruno.
Thus, in a sense, the rumour, even though when spread was complete rubbish, became true over the course of one meeting between the two of us in school. Haruno brought me home, she had to. Telling her thoughts on the matter in an what appeared to be an empty school corridor was never a good idea. There were numerous possibilities of us being overheard and despite popular believe, empty classrooms were not made readily available to her beck and call, even when she had a homeroom teacher like Shizuka on her speed dial.
We took the bus home. It was awfully crowded. We sat side by side, awfully close, hips joined, knees touching, shoulders brushing and on a particularly bumpy stretch of road, I found Haruno reaching for my hand. It was odd, the gesture, the touch. It was different, unusual. But she wouldn't tell me anything more. Again, we could have been overheard.
I realised too late that she was not being careful. No, she was acting paranoid, not thinking clearly, not in the right frame of mind, something had her running, retreating, backs to the wall, eye on the cage, closing in. Haruno was afraid. I had never seen her come close to being scared, but here she was, back in her apartment, standing with me in her living room, and looking at each wall, each, corner, each curtain, each window, each door, like it was violating her personal space. She thought her movements were being watched. Se thought, the entire place was bugged. She couldn't trust no one, told no one the truth. Not Shizuka, not me.
Haruno brought me to her apartment under false pretense, bolted the door shut. Now, neither anyone could come into her apartment from the outside, nor anyone could leave from the inside. Because of course, I would, if I could grab the keys from her. But, she took the option away when she casually pulled down the collar of her blouse and dropped the keys inside. There, problem solved, escape plan, thwarted. All I could catch was a hint of red lace. But it was a delicate matter. I couldn't tell Haruno, to her face, that she was overreacting, being paranoid for no reason. For one thing, she might as well have a reason to act the way she was acting. But she didn't quite trust me enough to let me know what was going on in her mind. A wise policy. But that had to change, in order for us to work out this mess before it got out of hand.
But for that to happen, I had to be the one to start the conversation.
Not exactly my forte.
"You keep keys in your bra?" "...Hachiman, have you ever looked inside a woman's bag before?" "Haruno, I'm not that stupid." "Good. You escape the death penalty. But to answer your question, Hachiman, I keep them on me, at all time, so that I can find them with relative ease, without worrying about misplacing them every other minute while I'm out in the streets. And before you ask, no, most of the pant's I own don't have functioning pockets."
Conversation closed, dead in the track, run over on the rails by a cargo train. Haruno couldn't keep up the act, couldn't retrieve the mask and put it back on her face. But she had to, because, I couldn't deal with the person, I was seeing in her apartment. To do that, to accomplish this difficult task, get to the bottom of these vile rumours, Haruno had one sure shot option available at her disposal and it was looking at her with a pair of rotten dead fish eyes.
But Haruno thrived on confrontation. She needed me to be the villain. She wanted me to be the person behind these rumours.
But, I wasn't.
The Pandora's box blew out like one of the artificial, inflatable pools, lies leaking through from each puncture in the plastic narrative and I was left to wade through the high chlorine content, burning my eyes, drowning in the data streams of the web medium. Haruno had to part with some of the truth. She didn't like it, but there was no other choice. In her defense, these were not her secrets to share.
'Miura', profile pic, a baby girl holding a toy arrow. The sweet, innocent looking account shared rather intimate details of enjoying a passionate shower with her boyfriend, 'Hikio.'
What-
"Long fingers left a sizzling trail down my soft flesh, burning my insides by their ghostly touch and feathering my skin into bearing small goose bumps. Beginning innocently at my shoulders, then daringly travelling lower, landing on my thin waist, running around my firm hips before coming dangerously close to caress my bare thighs, Hikio's languishing feel seared my senses. I moistened my lips, my breathing grew strained, my breasts heaved anxiously and I felt his rough but warm rasp of breath closer to her ears, making me burn up in anticipation.
'You are beautiful, Yumi.' Hikio swore, almost inaudibly in my ears, and I felt myself blushing red and sagging into his soothing touch. His words of compliment, simple yet elegant, bore truth and I found myself forever pleased to have his undivided attention upon my naked form. Hearing him, this close, this natural, this open, made me blush and I wanted him to do nothing else but compliment her more and within a passing minute, as if almost telepathically, he must have read my mind and repeated himself. 'You really are, you know.'
I looked upto his dark eyes which I had once mistakenly compared to those of a rotten dead fish, but I had corrected my earlier mistake rather quickly and by now I only found them swimming with unbridled passion for me and I couldn't help but gulp down my worries and give a small audible gasp of pleasure at his absent minded ministrations down my long neck, 'Th…thank you, Hikio.'
A satisfied half smirk appeared on his often expressionless features and he slowly wrapped one of his hands skilfully into my blonde hair, always careful not to tug at the roots and cause me discomfort. He was always gentle and caring, rewarding me with small pecks and playful nips, on my plum lips and lovely skin, keeping his eyes only on me at these shared moments of profound intimacy. Growing weak by relaxing into his lazy kisses, my lips parted to give a small easy sigh at finding myself in his assuring arms.
'Do you love me Yumi?' he asked breathlessly, staring deep into my emerald eyes searching for a never known buried truth.
I smiled upto him and gave a shy nod of acknowledgement, 'I love you Hikio! I love you so much!'
Emboldened by my proclamation of love Hikio dived into me and our lips met each other in a passionate kiss full of vehemence and fervour. Keeping my eyes closed, I hungrily kissed him back and returned his feelings without a care in the world. At this moment only two people mattered and everyone else could just leave us the hell alone. Delightfully invigorating, this kiss cemented out relationship and slowly nudged us to take the next step forward.
Hikio disentangled his hands from my hair and gently took hold of my knees, adjusting a little, to make me more comfortable. He pulled gently, to bring me intimately close to his body and getting his intentions, I wrapped my ankles around him in an instant, trapping him in my clutches. A loud moan escaped my lips when he bucked his hips forward upon me and he gave an involuntary loud groan of delight over this delightful position in which both our bodies were slowly beginning to align by every passing moment. 'Are you sure about this Yumi?' He rasped in a throaty whisper, heavy with subdued passion.
I blushed and gently nodded my head, '…I-I am sure Hikio…'
Upon hearing my positive remark of encouragement, a wide grin spread across Hikio's seemingly expressionless features, which were now swimming with a lustful spirit of ambiguity. I felt his arms, which were supporting my weight, gently bringing me down to a more horizontal position and within a few minutes of careful wonderment I found him, slowly and carefully, lowering his own body upon my slim frame. One of his palms gently pawed my hips in support and I sagged comfortably in his hold, "I will make you feel loved Yumi." he declared against my neck, planting a steady line of kisses over my entire vocal column.
I grew bold after hearing his statement and afterwards I gently nudged one of my knees against his groin, making him give an abrupt yelp in surprise. I smirked at him and reached up to unbutton his shirt, 'Let me help you out a little too Hikio'
A small nod from him gave me the much needed permission and slowly I began to remove his shirt. I marvelled upon glancing at his bare chest and when I gently placed my lips against his skin, I felt him grow entirely still and almost frigid. For a moment I was worried, but then I found myself brought down on my back, with him and his lips, almost devouring the last remnants of my sensibilities. After that, bliss was all I knew…
-the fuck, I thought.
Creating a fake account, posing as Miura, then sharing these, so called, real love-life stories as her; that's pure evil. It's out there now, floating online. Public record of views, acts, behaviours, not hers, not of Miura Yumiko, the Fire Queen, I know, but of someone, a bastard, a troll, pretending to be her, this Yumi, who has sex in the shower with her boyfriend, Hikio and writes about it online for likes, follows, shares, comments.
Nothing about this is true, this never happened, but the people reading this wouldn't know that. There were several pictures and those were worth a thousand words. I had never been to Miura's home, never stepped inside her bedroom, never seen pictures of her bathroom, her showers, but Haruno had numerous of them on her phone. 'Chrome', had been sending her pictures, emails, text, links, posts, and no matter what she did, they wouldn't stop coming, there was no stopping the flow of information and going to the authorities was out of the question.
I looked at one more.
'Orimoto', profile pic, a baby girl smelling flowers. It was the same as Miura's; fake account, many pictures, made believable to feel real, when it isn't. But this time, there was a reconciliation thrown into the mix to make the showers interesting. I had no interest reading through the same pile of pornographic garbage once more. Reading the one featuring, me and Miura was enough to leave a lasting impression.
But, this had its appeal because of an explanation made by 'Kaori' to her 'Hachima'.
I-
"That day in the classroom…" Orimoto said "…that day in the classroom, we were not alone. When you were about to ask me out, I saw someone lurking in the corridors. Your back was turned and you were facing me, so you didn't see her but I saw her clearly over your shoulders. She was trying to be subtle and was only peeking through the side of the door but there was no doubt in my mind that it was none other than Chika Nakamachi and she was actually trying to spy on us! Chika Nakamachi! You might not remember her Hikigaya, but she was also with us in our class back in middle school and she also tagged along with us in that stupid double date with Hayama Hayato! She hasn't changed at all, I tell you! She is still that same girl, you know, spreading false rumours, making stuff up and telling nonsensical lies. She used to pick on you and bother you all the time back in middle school but during that double date she goaded me to make fun of you as well so she could score brownie points with Hayama! What a pathetic loser!" Orimoto groused in self loathing, "But I am still friends with her anyway because I am just afraid of making her angry and that same fear made me reject you on that fateful day! I saw Chika and I panicked. I was thinking more about the rumours that she would spread if I said 'yes' to your confession and I knew that she had the power to ruin my reputation…and…and…and…that's why I rejected you in such a brutal way!" Orimoto sobbed. "And then the very next day, as expected, she spread all those terrible rumours about your rejection and turned you into a laughing stock for the whole school! Everyone made fun of you and I hated them so very much but I just stood back and did nothing because I was afraid and I thought it was probably for the best because… I thought…I thought… a girl like me would never be happy with a guy like you." Orimoto pulled away. "But later on I realised it was the other way around." Orimoto looked him right in the eye, "A guy like you would never be happy with a girl like me."
-can't take this.
Minds plays tricks, tries to make sense of a situation, helps make connection, lets us see things as we think. But this is not helping. The story is shared by an impostor, this is not Orimoto. Even the fake profile is under the name 'Kaori' and that's a common name. But mind take pity and let's me have this moment. I can't read this without altering the names. Kaori is Orimoto, what is Chika, is Chika Nakamachi, what is Hayato, is Hayama. I can't read this, without reading the names as it were meant to be.
I can't help it.
In the same way, telling myself now, that I knew this all along, is giving me too much credit. Back when we were in middle school, these rumours were spread by one of Orimoto's friend, Chika Nakamachi, a girl who hated me with the vengeance of hell. I had my doubts, but reading this, even though I know the rest of it is untrue, I can't help but which for this one small fact to be true. Orimoto and I didn't reconcile in the shower, we didn't forgive each other, owned up to our mistakes, none of this happened. But I want the Chika Nakamachi bit, about spreading rumours to be true.
It's foolish, idiotic, I should know better, but that's the thing with rumours. It's effective because you want to believe them and that's what makes them most dangerous.
Last time, Orimoto and I met, we talked about regrets, and we decided to move forward as friends. This bit on the internet was taking too much creative liberties with our little meeting. But it makes on thing clear. Whoever is behind this is incredibly resourceful and he has us under watch when we don't even know where to look.
Haruno showed me one more.
'Isshiki', profile pic, a quote from a poem. I recognized it. It was from the Heian era. This fake account was a shoddy work at best. Probably the person behind this was getting bored, losing interest. Or perhaps, it had to deal with what little personal tidbit it shared. To my surprise, this one was not about me, at least, one wouldn't get that from skimming through the page. No, this one was about how a foxy kohai, cornering her beloved senpai, in the locker showers, and seducing him with her feminine wiles. But despite the usual crude nature, this one took one step further. During one heated, passionate moment, everything turned south.
"Say my name, Iroha." "Ha-Hachima~"
But this wasn't a fake story on a fake account was about me and Iroha. No, this was about a cool, soccer club senpai name 'Hayato' and his foxy, soccer club, kohai, Iroha. I know Isshiki quit managing the soccer club, in favour of her student council duties, but it still stung, especially reading the aftermath, where the senpai turned violent and physically threw the kohai out, hurting her, injuring her, causing her pain.
I didn't want this to be true either. I didn't want none of the rumours to be true. But, I also know, their had to be a sliver of a truth to park the silver of doubt in the minds at work and it was working. And I was right, despite wishing I wasn't, not on about this, not on this case.
During my fight with Hayama today, while he cut lose and had the upper hand over me, he began telling me the exact same story, as a way of justifying himself and the things he did. I can't trust a word out of his mouth, but remembering this now, putting it in the context, joining the dots, I feel like drifting into the space left unknown, under the watchful eyes of the unseen. Between my physical confrontation with Hayama, and the talks I had with Haruno, I find like someone is laughing at me, at us, those in the know, and effected by these viscous rumours. On most occasions, God would be the one I accused. But no, God has a fun sense of humour. No, this was a definitely one of his creations, human beings, with a sick sense of humour.
I believe such and I was proven right. But not before I looked through the worst and inevitable ended up hurting myself in the process, causing irreparable damage, which led to a massive error in judgement. Haruno called me the monster of a logic for a reason, but without logic, without reason, I would be just a monster and there are plenty of those in the world. But that's what I became over time.
I wish I could blame this on Haruno; I don't. From the beginning I knew this would all come back to her. It was worse than what I feared or ever expected. Haruno wasn't taking well it well. Her cellphone was being bombarded with an overflowing stream of information which wasn't warranted nor desired in the least. She had no interest in the love lives of people, she didn't know or come to care about. She didn't waste her time, wondering whether these were true or not. But her cellphone was taken over, held hostage and that was unacceptable. But she came to regret the alternative as later she was the one taken hostage, by her phone, and that was downright frightening.
The rumours on Haruno were the worst. What made them the worse was the fact that I remain undecided on labeling them as rumours. A riddle was in the making. What is rumour when it is not a rumour? Answer, I don't know. But I do know what it isn't. It isn't the truth, it isn't the lie. It is, but it isn't and that's what's makes it the worst of the worst. I would come to know Haruno on various levels. It was like excavating a buried civilisation, seeing the ruins, then imagining the glory of past ideals, visualised, categorised, compartmentalised: the artificialties, the musings, the touch, the mask, the surprise, the loss, the world, the confession, the comforts, the choice. The bubbles beneath, the penultimate play, the dreams eternal, the collapse of identities, the love of pain, and the pain of remembering the others; I didn't know where the truth begins, when the lies end. I don't know how the lies end, why the truth begins. I am not the right kind of person to have on your side in a moment of crisis. Haruno knew that. But beggars can't be choosers, coping mechanisms differ, mistakes taken in fear can be cherished, and a moment of weakness can tap into buried strengths.
The artificialties behind me being the culprit, the one spreading the rumours was dealt first. Fear, hatred, a violation of privacy, a betrayal of trust, it was all thrown out in accusations made convincing in hysterics.
I had never seen, Haruno like this.
"You are lying, Hachiman." "No I'm not. Not about this." "You really want me to believe that?" "Nothing is more dangerous than a misunderstanding. What can I do to make you believe me, Haruno-san?" "Then complete your thought, Hachiman. Leave nothing unsaid, tell me everything. You don't realise how you do it, do you? You delude girls, mislead them without even knowing. Like Yukino-chan, like Gahama-chan, perhaps many more. You have an unusual way with words, Hachiman. You have no idea how much your words mean to some girls. You should be careful, Hachiman."
The musings behind her shivers came to focus. Haruno was paranoid, but I didn't know to what extent. Cold, afraid, alone in her private apartment, yet living with only the illusion of privacy. She was at the mercy of someone's mental whim, the mercy of a pendulum swinging from boredom to interest. This was making her nerves volatile. She was not in the right frame of mind, she was acting strange, she was not making sense, the shivers were from an unknown, unseen threat.
This was not the Haruno, I know.
"Are you really feeling cold Haruno-san?" "Are you offering to keep me warm, Hachiman?" "A blanket would be far better, Haruno-san." "I have a better idea. Come closer, Hachiman." "I have very sensitive ears, Haruno-san. I can hear whatever you say from over here." "Well then, shall I put your ears to a test, Hachiman?"
She did; I failed, miserably. The words 'undress me' was whispered, the distance between us was closed in a swift tackle and the sofa behind us cushioned our fall. When, Haruno, got the desired result from milking this advantage, she sat right beside me, then moved even closer, having me cornered against the arms of the sofa. If I tried scooting away, I would probably end up falling from the sofa and landing face first on the marble floor.
Haruno hadn't showed me the rumours about her, yet. I had no idea behind the thinking which went with her questions.
I didn't know we were running parallel conversations.
"Do you think we will end up having sex? I'm sapiosexual, Hachiman. " "... Haruno-san? Is that your way of saying I'm stupid?" "Hush, is this your first time?" "First time?" "Yes Hachiman; is this your first kiss?" "...No" "No? You mean you have kissed someone before." "Yes." "Was it Yukino-chan?" "...No" "Was it Gahama-chan?" "...No. And that's not her name. Why do you care Haruno-san?" "Who says I care. I'm just curious. Was it that clingy kohai of yours?" "No" "It wasn't Hayama-kun, was it?" "What? No! Hell no! It wasn't Hayama." "Thank God! How about Meguri?" "Nope! We were not even that close." "Oh it doesn't bother her. Besides she likes young ones. I should know. I was her senpai. What about that fujoshi? She looks cute." "…not kissing." "So something more?" "…N-no." "You are blushing, Hachiman." "…It's not what you think, Haruno-san." "Oh, then will you tell me what it is." "...It all started with Miura." "The one who likes Hayama-kun, correct. Jealous?" "Huh?" "Well, obviously not then." "Huh?"
Haruno didn't give me a chance to breath, but the quickness in certain replies, made her aware of my innocence. Innocence was celebrated with drinks, bottle of wine, glass goblets. But truth be told, alcohol was a bad idea. After our long conversation, Haruno was satisfied about a few things and such satisfactions lead to one of three things.
For Haruno, boldness came first.
"Haruno-san, you seem to have forgotten an apparel of clothing." "I hope you don't mind. I felt like slipping into some more comfortable pieces of clothing." "Piece; singular, you mean." "No, I don't. You should get comfortable as well." "Haruno-san?" "This comes off!"
Haruno wasn't wearing a bra. Bare breasts looking bigger, best optical illusion ever, covered only in the soft cotton fabric of her sweatshirt, nipples hard. She went inside to fetch drinks, came back wearing a grey sweatshirt, not pants, her thighs and legs left bare. Then, two drinks in, liquid courage in veins, mischief in eyes, deaf to half hearted protests, she brushed her lips with mine, making quick work of the buttons, turning her fears into strength.
A mistaken moment of weakness, where alcohol poured, nips, pecks, kisses, down throats. One glass, a half filled bottle, soon to empty good sense and leave while talking slurred, making no sense, except the comforts of drunken mistakes, one called love.
"We should celebrate us being less us, a little more someone else, you know what I mean, don't you?" "What is there to celebrate? I haven't done anything yet, Haruno." "You have been successful in proving me your innocence. That's admirable, Hachiman. Maybe no one was kind enough to offer you a glass in the past, But I'm offering you a taste. It would be horrible to waste such a good drink, don't you think?" "Given our state of…whatever this is, I think it's a bad idea. I might say something that can't be taken back. I might end up doing something too. It's not safe, Haruno." "I will work to keep mouth shut, kiss away." "We have only one glass, Haruno." "If we were in love, Drinking from the same glass would have been so romantic." "Good thing, we are not in love then." "Yes, it's a good thing. Now stop talking and kiss me."
Sloppy kisses led to hasty make out sessions on the sofa and before long we took matters to her bedroom, then her bathtub. Neither of us were virgins, we were both screwed over by life. The problem, we didn't the extent of our damage, the baggage in our minds. Haruno wore a mask, and I looked with my eyes. It was bound to end in disaster. Haruno didn't trust me with the rumours surrounding her. That meant one thing, some of the rumours on her might turn out to be true and she was afraid and felt threatened because she was helpless in the face of the unknown and the nameless. We had sex, once. It doesn't mean she has to trust me. Liars don't trust other liars. We know better, we are not idiots.
Haruno would do the next best thing.
She would try to drown herself in her bathtub.
"What were you thinking!?"
"I wanted to know whether or not this was a dream. Me, inviting you to my apartment and you, coming in. Me, kissing you and you, kissing me back. Me, allowing you into my bed, my private sanctum, where I take a break, where I am only Haruno and not HER; and you followed me. It's like a beautiful, wonderful, dream, where only good things keep happening to me and I love every bit of it. But a dream is just that; a dream. And despite how good it is, how good it can be, there is one thing it can never be- Real. But, I wanted this to be real, so very real and that's why I had to check. I had to prove to myself that everything that has been happening to me is really happening to me. I wanted evidence of my own existence. I wanted to feel alive! So, I had to die. One can truly know they are alive when they are about to die. The sheer fear alone helps you know and then there is the need to call the name of someone you care for, for the last time. I knew I was dying, I knew I was drowning and so I knew I was alive and that this was not a dream."
"That's crazy, Haruno. I could have already told you that this was not a dream. You didn't have to drown yourself to know that."
"You may think so, Hachiman. But now I know for certain that it wasn't a dream."
"How do you know?"
"Because in my dreams I drown and no one comes to save me."
"That sounds more like a nightmare, Haruno."
"Are there any other kinds of dream, Hachiman?"
Conversation came to a grinding halt. I was working out the nerve to tell a horrible joke, about how I was so bad in bed, that even the great Haruno had thought of committing suicide by drowning in her own bathtub. But I never got the chance. Haruno told me a joke of her own. It was loads of laugh. You see, she was so certain, that I was the creep, behind spreading these vile rumours, that she had decided to catch me red handed. Bringing me home, acting out one of the fantasies, dressing up as in one of the stories, then waiting for me to fumble up, disclose something incriminating and have me arrested with one call. Haruno had thought, the creep would be into role play, with all the fake accounts and the impersonations. So the chances of me repeating a dialogue, word for word, was more than half likely to happen, knowing my intelligence. When, that failed, she tried the alternative, starting a fantasy involving her, but not going all the way. I would give her cues, direct her actions, try to control the scene and that would be enough to send me to jail. But it didn't work. She had shone me the fake accounts of the other girls, their shared stories, to make me worried, fidgety, tensed. But my actions spoke my innocence and even though, Haruno, didn't quite believe me, until there was one last play and that involved alcohol and a drunken confession.
That didn't work as well, but, according to her, sex was never a part of the equation. It happened, because alcohol and nerves make a mean cocktail. Like I said, good joke, loads of laugh, ha ha. Haruno gave a choice, to laugh or to cry. She was being generous. I didn't know to what extent until she came bursting into the living room, nightwear on wet skin, morning on curtains, look of defiance in eyes, guilt per blink.
But the blood red fabric of her satin, sweet baby doll outfit, barely, reached past her hips. The embroidery design, splayed on the hemline, completely see-through, crawled upwards like slithering serpents -offering the forbidden fruit, nestled deep between her glorious thighs; the fatal temptation for any man- at even the barest jostle of her gorgeous legs. The naïve bow, sitting prettily, between the valley of her ample breasts, offered, more than generous view of her cleavage- made entirely of lace- not knowing, that it can be undone, by a simple flick of a few skillful fingers.
I didn't know what to expect. Did she expect us to have sex? Is this called make up sex? She thought I was a cyber stalker, spreading false rumours about a group of people on the internet and then subjecting her to the mental torture of have to shift through those pages of vile and filth every time she touches her cellphone. But, I wasn't and even though she went to extreme lengths to prove, it was me, my innocence was to much to overlook, even for her. But no, that wasn't enough. She wanted to get me drunk and confess to a crime I didn't commit. Not thinking straight. Then, we had sex. But, it wasn't part of the plan. No, it happened, naturally. Sure, I believe you. And the drowning and the sex outfit?
I didn't get to ask Haruno that much. My phone buzzed, before I could get word in. I received an email. In fact, I had been received a lot more than just emails. Haruno tried to control her tears. She had come out of drowning, gotten dressed in that skimpy nightwear outfit to prove a point, I knew this much. The rest, I got from the attachments to the email. The sender was called, 'Chrome.' Good thing I don't believe his first name is Google. But, before checking out some of the other stuff, I clicked on an image and waited for it to load. I did and it was a picture of the same baby doll outfit Haruno was wearing now. But, it wasn't an ad from sexy lingerie. No, I looked at the background. This was clicked here, in her bedroom, the outfit taken from her wardrobe, then splayed on her bed, too make it look more real; genuine.
I never thought I would come to hate the word. But someone had sent me a folder titled, 'Haruno, the ideal woman, with fake smiles and suicidal tendencies.'
I could learn to live with the hate as I do now with the truth.
The stuff on Haruno was the worst, but reading them would be a waste of time. She had tried to reenact them, and the drowning in the bath tub, yeah, it was true. I trust my eyes and senses, and it went with the whole paranoia and feeling threatened vibes, I was constantly getting from her, throughout the entire course of our little mistake. Haruno felt threatened by the rumours, because they were true. It would leave her exposed, the ideal image of hers will be destroyed, her family would disown her. I kinda hated her now, and for good reason, but I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone. Maybe, Hayama. Hey, I never said I was a saint, don't let this eyes fool you, oh wait, they don't. They make me look like a generic cyber stalker. Good to know. Now I won't feel bad reading the others ones. In comparison, the ones one the others were tame.
I read a few on Shizuka and me. Valentines day chocolate between teacher and student. How sensuous. But it wasn't. In fact, it was rather, should I dare it, fluffy. But that's where people make the mistake of being to forgiving. Just because it's not bad, it doesn't cause damage, doesn't means it's okay. Sensei, could still get in some serious trouble, lose her job and everything. Because, of the story like format to these, real life stories, it's even worse.
The dialogue was believable-
"I brought chocolates. But, um they got squashed. Yeah, here take a look. Funny story actually. Haha! What happened was, I sat on them. It was an accident. I worked on them all night. Stupid chocolate wouldn't melt properly. I had to make another batch. Anyway, I finally did it. After midnight, they were ready and tasted absolutely delicious. And I fell asleep happy with my chocolates. But dammit! I forgot to set the alarm and so I woke up late. I got dressed in a hurry, rushed into my car, drove here like crazy and when I finally thought, that this day might have, mind you might have, possibly been better than last year, reality decided to pull a fast one on me. And lo and behold! My pants were ruined, covered in chocolate bits. I didn't even realize I had sat on them, until after I got out from my car. Can you believe that, Hikigaya? Well can you?" "Um, I can get that. It was an honest mistake, sensei. I am sure lots of people sit on stuff, everyday." "…You are mocking me, aren't you." "Of course not! I am not an idiot, sensei. Look on the bright side. At least, the flowers I have your are in good shape." "…And I am not. Is that what you mean?"
-incredibly believable.
I stopped using the fake names of the accounts. It was easy on the information baggage on my mind. I read them, like it was meant for me. I also believe, I have, indirectly fulfilled, one of Haruno's requests, which she never asked. I don't know for sure, but I think, her cellphone has stopped getting all the emails and texts, because they are now coming to me.
Wonderful is a sarcasm.
Using Komachi in one of these false rumours wasn't. According to this, she knew about my relationship with Shizuka and played cupid to get us together. Hah, as if that would be, remotely believable.
"Onii-chan can be smooth when he wants to be. Everyone knows girls are a sucker for flowers, sensei. " "Well not everyone. I mean, I certainly can't be swayed by a couple of flowers you know." "Ah, but sensei, you are a bit old to be called a girl, right? Tehee~" "Why you stupid brat. You and your brother are just the same. Making fun of me all the time. I am a teacher goddammit!" "You are cute, sensei, not cuter than Komachi. but still cute. So, I will tell you what. You don't punch my onii-chan in the gut for a week and I will tell him that girls these days go for the classics. With some luck, onii-chan will think of roses."
Okay, rumours can sound, strangely accurate. Even on a web page, on a fake story, under a fake account, dammit, I can even hear there voices, in my ears. This is bad. But it soon gets worse. The next one had, Shizuka, washing her car, while humming a tune, with sexy lyrics and I was lurking in the shadows like the creep that I am. In the end, it was too much, and I ran off, and Shizuka, sighed, and returned to washing her car in the summer heat.
"Guess it's just you and me, handsome."
Handsome. It creeps on you doesn't it. One small truth, in a whole bag of lies and you believe the bag contains nothing but truth, because of one, and only one, truth. Yes, Shizuka has a car. I think, she washes it herself as well, because she doesn't trust those automatic car washes. And yes, because, she is lonely and because, guys do it all the time, refer to their respective rides, as 'girl', well, Shizuka, does that too. Only, she calls, her car, handsome. But, that doesn't mean I was there and she was putting up a show for me. No, that didn't happen.
The next one, again on, Shizuka one me. This one took one step further. It predicted the future. This rumour is about the time I graduate and come clean with my feelings with, sensei. These, all looked like an excuse, nowhere near the vileness of the previous set of character destroying rumours. These were harmless. But it was wrong the same. Needless to say, I am still in my third year and it takes a while to graduate. but according to this rumour, I was graduating tomorrow.
"Huh. You became taller than me. When did that happen, Hikigaya?" "Last summer, I think. Also, I was only a little shorter than you, sensei. Moreover, you wore heels." "Sheesh! Someone's sensitive. Size doesn't matter to me, Hikigaya." "…I think you mean height, sensei."
Wow, okay. Okay next one. Ah, yes, a filthy one on sex to get me back in the mood to hate the person behind spreading this rumours. Yes, thank you. I mean, no, not thank you. You are evil, troll on the internet. Then there was of one of me stripping my shirt in the home economics room, because, Yuigahama, put a spoon in a microwave, and it short circuited, and she thought, it was a good idea, to throw, water in the mix, but, I jumped in and got a wet shirt. This led to me stripping in front of others like Ebina, Tobe, Yui, Yukino, Shizuka. Gonna, skip this one as well. This was getting gross. There were a lot of these mini, unfinished thoughts. It was clear the troll, was losing interest and half assing the rest of the stuff.
The one on Orimoto got to me though. It was set in our middle school days. "Listening to us girls while pretending to be asleep is really creepy, you know." "I don't know what you are talking about, Orimoto." "You know, you should try snoring sometimes." "I don't follow." "You should snore when you are pretending to be asleep. Then it would look more realistic, don't you think." "No, it would draw unwanted attention on me." "Ahha! Gotcha, Hachiman."
I don't know but Orimoto still gets a reactions. It's dreadfully childish of me. Then there was one on Isshiki and me. It was gym class and second years and third years, take those together apparently. I didn't know that, but I go to the same school. Funny how that works. Anyway, this one had, Isshiki, trying her shoelaces, while having her ass, covered in those short, gym shorts, resting on my shoulders.
Then one one Hayama, where he gets told he was defeated, by a call from Haruno. I checked that one out, for sure. What, I didn't know, is that, it might have been one of the reasons, which might have led to our confrontation. But that depended on the chance that he knew about these rumours and were affected by them. So, a lot unsure.
I don't think I will feel sorry for Hayama, even in a false rumour, meant to ruin his image, where he is getting a verbal thrashing from Haruno.
"Hayato-kun, you disappointed me. But no matter. What's done is done. Things have been said, feelings confessed. No kiss yet, mind you, but knowing those two, I wouldn't hold my breath. It took them what? Almost a year and half to get here. The way they are going right now, I bet they won't even think about kissing until they are out of school. Kind of pathetic if you ask me. Too much mushy for my taste though. Yuck! But I guess some could call it cute. Oh! I can already imagine it: Yukino-chan, the school valedictorian, sharing her first kiss with her lovely boyfriend, on the stage, for everyone to see. So romantic! Don't you think, Hayato-kun?" "…They have already kissed, Haruno-san." "You don't say. I bet you caught them in the act, didn't you. Tongues down the other's throat, both of them fooling around, alone in the clubroom, getting handsy with each other, Yukino-chan moaning his name." "Is there a point to this call, Haruno-san? I'm afraid it's getting late." "A gentleman to the end, aren't you, Hayato-kun. Oh how pathetic. But then again, I wouldn't expect anything different from the likes of you. Tell me, I'm curious. Did you at least congratulate the happy couple or did you hide in the bushes and watched them make out."
Okay, that was cruel and if Hayama read this, I kinda feel like he would want to punch me in the face, like he did, today. I doubt he can figure out the lies from the truth. Yes, if this happened, I can believe, Haruno might give him a call, with more or less the exact same sentiment . But, no, Yukino and I definitely, didn't kiss and again, no, we are not graduating it. Can rumours, predict the future? Well, until you call, global warming a rumour, I think we are safe. Not from the, oh, never mind, won't get into that.
Another on Hayama, this one with Yukinoshita. Okay, let's dive in. This one, was about Yukino breaking of her engagement and running off with me. Oh, no, she couldn't run, low stamina. But still, the two of them were through.
"I expect my parents to take unkindly to the news, Hayama-kun. Nee-san has chosen to be by my side when I break the news to both our families. I would appreciate you not making matters worse for the both of us." "I promise to limit all my comments to your cooking. Only good things, I assure you." "Then, I would make a note of adding three more table spoons of powdered chilli in your curry, Hayama-kun. It would only prove to enhance your taste buds, I assure you,"
Ah, yeah, I can see, Yukinoshita doing that. But again, she would never have the courage to stand up to her parents and break up an engagement. Well, at least, I don't think so, with the current way she behaves. But again, people will believe this rumour, because the interactions are made to sound believable. It might very well be a quote if one of them ever write an autobiography.
Moving on. Ah, next one, had him having sex with Saki while imagining it was Shizuka. Okay, interesting choice. Perhaps, taking into account that I lack the well crafted riajuu traits to cheat on a partner. I admire the honesty in keeping me dishonest. Having a physical affair with two women at the same time is a bit too much. But mentally, I can be a two-timing bastard, no problem. The internet troll, knows me so well.
What's next. Choosing Maxx Coffee over a date with Isshiki. Definitely not a rumour. Well, technically it is. Isshiki never asked me on a date. If people actually pays attention to me for once, you will found out, that she rejects me all the time just for the heck of it. But, I am saying, coffee over dates. Sorry, need to make it perfectly clear. I would rather have Maxx Coffee, then go on a date. There, matter cleared for the future.
Next one. All the ladies I know, in a room answering questions about sex, sent by an anonymous person in service club computer. Yeah, that, happened. It was called the near apocalypse of 2018. Yeah, it was a day like no other and humanity went extinct. Of course, of course.
Next. Komachi is ill. I made curry because I am a loving sister. Again, can't call this a rumour. It's too much on the side of true. It's like saying, there's a rumour going on that air is invisible. Well, you can't know for sure, I mean have you seen it. Ingenious.
Next. Zaimokuza filming an amateur movie with me as the villain and Miura as the heroine. Of course. The three of us won Oscars. The movies was a super duper hit. Better, than Lord of the Rings. Won twice the amount of Oscars.
Next. Sagami and me, caught in a rain, seeking shelter in a love hotel. Yes, because, she doesn't hate my guts. She secretively loves me. You know, what, what would make these even better, even more believable. Me and Sagami committing couples suicide by jumping of the roof of the school building. Yes, and we will have Hayama film it, because, he deserves to be happy in the end.
Then the next one had me and Ebina re enacting a scene from a BL novel, because of course, sick people, sick minds. Give the fujoshi a bad idea and watch her burn down the entire world. Yes, the troll, wants to take over the world.
I have lost all respect of him as an adversary. This couldn't be the same person.
The next one was about, Haruno dying in my arms, bleeding out, red blood on her clothes, . Again, she is safe. Moving on, next. And ah, yes, the next one, had Haruno fully, recovered and wearing a sexy red dress, because, that's not traumatizing at all. What is trauma? It's a state of mind. Yes, I am losing my mind a bit. It's been a long day.
I can't believe, Hayama and I fought over these. I can't believe it. I destroyed the service club, destroyed my bond with Yukinoshita, went out on a date with Miura, gave her the wrong idea. Built bridges with Sagami, yet remained unsure of her role in my downfall, got stabbed, by Isshiki, then covered for her, then here I am now, at my home, on my bed unable to sleep, because it's damn too much and I am rushing to jump to a conclusion and I have not looked at all the variables.
But now, I don't want too. It's over. The service club is gone, Hayama's clique is gone too. In a sense that's balance.
But, I need to sleep and for that I need answers.
I turn over, reach for my phone and send an email to the troll responsible from this entire mess.
He calls himself 'Chrome.'
'Why did you do all this?' I typed, and sent.
Haruno later informed me that this 'Chrome' can't be reached, he never replies. It's a one way conversation. Thus I never tried, shooting a text.
The reply came a second late.
"Because, I love Humans."
A/N: The 100th Chapter this project of mine finally deserved, not the horrible ones I had previously written. Thank you everyone for making this journey worthwhile!
-/-/-
