Chapter Text
Youth is a lie.
A bright mirage that only serves to trip people up trying to reach it.
At least, that's what I thought. Until that day.
Although... no, I still think so. More strongly than ever.
Even so, no one warned me that the lie could get louder, more chaotic... and that it could come in the form of five.
✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦
The disaster began one ordinary afternoon at the Volunteer Service Club, that sanctuary of uneasy peace where Yukinoshita Yukino reminded me of my flaws with surgical precision and Yuigahama Yui tried to soften the atmosphere without notable success.
—So... what do we do with the application? —Yui asked, holding up a sheet of paper that trembled as if it sensed its fate.
The request came from a first-year student who wanted to "stop being invisible in his classroom."
As if that depended on a club and not on divine will.
As always, I said what everyone was thinking but no one had the courage to admit:
—The most efficient thing is to tell them to accept their role in the social food chain. Not everyone is destined to be visible. I, for example, am a living example of—
—Hikigaya-kun. —Yukino's voice cut me like a cold scalpel—. You're ruining any chance of helping him.
—I'm being realistic. Realism is useful. The truth is useful.
—Unnecessary cruelty is not.
I felt Yui's gaze. It was that look that said, "Hikki, please don't destroy other people's self-esteem."
Too late.
The atmosphere became so thick you could have cut it with one of those cheap plastic knives they give out in cafés.
Yui sighed. Yukino closed her eyes with a gesture that, in her language, meant "I can't take you anymore."
And that's when it happened.
—Hikigaya-kun... —Yukino said, crossing her arms—. Go outside for some fresh air.
—Huh?
—You're making the job harder.
—Hikki... —Yui tried to soften it, without success— just for a little while, okay?
I was expelled.
Me.
The veteran member of the club.
Social injustice reaches artistic levels.
But arguing with them would have been pointless.
So I got up from my seat, my dignity shattered, and shuffled down the aisle.
✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦
The afternoon air greeted me with a cold blast and an eerie silence. Which, honestly, was better than continuing to listen to how I was unintentionally crushing the motivation of some poor freshman.
I wandered aimlessly along the campus sidewalks, and before I knew it, my feet had carried me to a secluded area of the campus. A quiet place, with gravel paths that crunched underfoot; the kind of sound that feels like a constant reminder that you still exist, whether you like it or not.
The sky was overcast. A pleasant gray. The kind of gray that matched my inner self.
"Pathetic..." I muttered, kicking a small stone.
I kept walking until a soft murmur broke the monotony of the atmosphere. Not a human murmur. More like... the rustle of a page, the slight adjustment of headphones, a stifled sigh.
There, on a bench half-hidden among trees, sat a girl. Dark brown hair, large headphones covering her ears, and a book in her hands. An old one, with a worn dust jacket that screamed "niche topic."
It was way beyond my threshold for social interaction, so I immediately looked away. A pretty girl, quietly reading... clearly not my area of expertise.
But then something fell to the ground next to her. A small metallic object that made a soft clink on the gravel.
I sighed.
The laws of anime are cruel to loners.
I got close enough to pick it up: a small amulet in the shape of a samurai helmet.
"You dropped this," I said, in a muffled but audible voice.
The girl looked up.
Blue eyes. Clear. Analytical.
"Thank you..." she whispered. "It's a replica of a Japanese general's helmet."
Japanese general. Who the hell carries that stuff to school?
"Interesting... I suppose," I commented. "Although it's an unusual combination. I didn't expect to see someone reading about ancient warfare tactics while wearing high-end headphones. It's a... strange contrast."
I stopped. I had analyzed her appearance out loud, something that probably made me look like a stalker or a low-budget fashion critic.
Her cheeks flushed slightly, a fleeting pink touch that she tried to hide behind her book.
"I like history... especially the history of the Sengoku-era generals," she said, looking down. "There's nothing wrong with liking it, is there?"
"Not at all," I replied, averting my gaze to a blank space in the courtyard. "In fact, having a genuine interest is far more dignified than pretending to like whatever's trendy just to have something to talk about in a group chat. Most people in this institution change their personalities depending on the weather; at least the dead generals don't expect you to fit into their social circle."
I paused, shrugging listlessly.
—If the world thinks it's strange to have your own opinion, then the problem is the world's, not yours.
A silence fell between us. It would have been awkward for anyone.
For me... just another Tuesday.
"You're... odd," she murmured, but it didn't sound like an insult. It was more of an honest observation. "What's your name?"
—Hikigaya Hachiman—I said, almost reflexively.
She hesitated for a moment.
—Miku... Miku Nakano.
Nakano. Normal name. Normal behavior. Everything normal.
Except that she was talking to me.
Voluntarily.
"Did you come to read too?" she asked, without really looking at me.
—No. I was exiled. My colleagues believe that "going out for some fresh air" will solve the cruelty of the world.
Miku let out a small laugh. Delicate. As if it had escaped on its own.
"I came here because it's a quiet place to spend time," she said.
"I understand," I nodded. "Sometimes the world is more bearable when people are far away."
For the first time, she looked up at me.
There was something in her gaze... a kind of silent recognition.
As if she had found another specimen of her own rare species.
The wind passed between us and lifted the pages of her book slightly. Miku held them carefully.
"If... if you want to sit down, you're not bothering me," she murmured in a low but sincere voice. "I don't talk much, but... that's fine."
I looked at her, then at the bench, then at the whole world wondering if it was a hidden camera prank.
—Well... —I sat down, leaving a reasonable distance—. It's always better to share silence with someone calm than with very energetic people.
Miku nodded, adjusting her book.
And so, without any social obligation or uncomfortable pressure, we stayed there.
She was reading military history.
I was silently checking my phone.
Two strangers sharing a completely simple moment.
Interestingly... it wasn't so bad.
Time passed without either of them noticing.
Five, ten, fifteen minutes... Maybe more. The kind of silence that for Hachiman was as comfortable as an empty room; and for Miku, as safe as a library.
At some point, Miku gently closed her book.
"I think... I should go back now," she said, adjusting the headphones around her neck.
"Me too," I replied, putting my phone in my pocket. "If I don't go back to the club, my friends will surely come up with some absurd theory about my disappearance. And believe me, I don't have the energy to deal with one's scandal or the other's interrogation."
Miku let out a very soft laugh. A laugh so small it seemed afraid of attracting the world's attention... but warm enough to remain etched somewhere in my memory.
She stood up, clutching the book tightly to her chest, as if trying to hide behind it.
"It was... nice," she whispered, lowering her head so her hair hid her face. "Sharing this space with you... wasn't awkward."
My stomach lurched slightly. It wasn't the kind of thing I was used to hearing. Usually, people would apologize for my presence or ignore me until I disappeared. For a girl—a girl who, objectively, was quite pretty—to say something like that out of the blue was dangerous for my sanity.
"Yeah, well..." I replied, scratching my cheek and glancing at a nonexistent stain on the gravel. "I guess you didn't ruin the scenery. It's not like you're one of those people who need to fill every second with empty words. So... it wasn't bad."
Miku looked up, surprised by my clumsy response. Her eyes trembled slightly, and a small spark of relief crossed her face.
"Perhaps... we'll see each other again," she whispered.
"If fate wants to ruin my routine, I guess so," Hachiman remarked, shrugging his shoulders.
But the slightest curve at the corner of his lips—that almost-not-a-smile—contradicted his tone.
Miku noticed.
And for some reason, it made her cheeks flush slightly.
She took a step back, preparing to leave.
—See you later... Hikigaya-kun.
—See you... Nakano.
With a slight nod, Miku turned and began walking along the path, her silhouette disappearing among the park's trees.
Hachiman watched her for only a second before noticing.
His afternoon had been... bearable. Unusually bearable.
Too bearable.
"Tsk... this can't be a good sign," he muttered, putting his hands in his pockets as he resumed walking.
But even so... he couldn't deny one thing:
the bench next to Miku had been the quietest place in the world for a moment.
And that, for him, was dangerous to remember.
✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦
The sun was beginning to set when I walked back through the quiet hallway of the school building.
In theory, all I had to do was open the door, sit in my usual chair, and resume my role as the "club outcast" until the end of the period. I crossed the threshold hoping the debate about the freshman had progressed, or at least that the atmosphere wasn't as hostile as when I left.
Upon opening the door, the scene was almost the same, but in a different order. Yui was leaning over the table, pointing to certain items on the application, while Yukino listened attentively, nodding occasionally and jotting down corrections with her fountain pen. They were focused, working together on a strategy that my cynical realism would likely have ruined.
"I'm back," I said, trying to make my voice sound as monotonous as ever.
Yui looked up and gave me a somewhat relieved smile.
—Ah, welcome, Hikki. We were just finishing planning a list of activities so the boy can start socializing little by little.
I walked to my seat with a calmness I couldn't quite conceal. Perhaps it was the way my shoulders weren't so tense, or that I didn't drag my feet with my usual pessimism, but something went wrong with my disguise. Just as I was about to take out my things, I felt a gaze piercing the side of my head.
Yukino had stopped writing. Her blue eyes were analyzing me with that intensity that makes you feel like an insect under a microscope.
"What?" I asked, feeling a light cold sweat. "Do I have something on my face?"
"Hikigaya-kun..." she said, narrowing her eyes. "It's curious."
—What? That I survived the fresh air?
"No. The fact that you came in here with an expression that could almost be mistaken for satisfaction. Even the way you walked..." She paused, searching for the right word. "It seemed as if you didn't hate the ground you were standing on. It's disturbingly unusual for you."
Yui approached, curious about the analysis.
—Huh? Really? Now that you mention it, Hikki... you seem less "clouded" than you were half an hour ago. Did something good happen outside?
I felt a cold sweat. Was the change really that obvious? I wondered if I'd truly been so affected by the fact that a girl—a pretty girl, no less—hadn't immediately rejected me. I was used to disdainful looks or outright indifference, but someone like Miku Nakano agreeing to share her space with me without question had cracked my armor.
"I'm always weird," I said, trying to force my usual cynical tone. "If I were normal, we probably wouldn't be having this conversation."
Yui looked at me curiously, but I decided not to give her space to continue analyzing my aura.
"It was just the fresh air," I insisted, sitting down with sudden determination. "My brain needed a break from the carbon dioxide in this club. Anyway, since I'm here, let's get that request over with."
Yukino didn't say anything right away. She closed her book with calculated slowness and gave me a suspicious look, as if she were reading lines from a script I was trying to hide. It was that look that said, "I know something happened, and sooner or later I'll find out."
I ignored her scrutiny as subtly as possible, avoiding eye contact with her blue eyes and concentrating intently on the papers on the table. I couldn't let them notice anything. If Yukinoshita started asking the right questions, I'd have no way to explain that my sudden tranquility stemmed from an encounter that, by my own rules, shouldn't have even happened.
As he left school, the sky was already tinged with orange.
Hachiman walked with his hands in his pockets, listening to the sound of his own footsteps.
He wasn't one to dwell too much on social interactions.
Especially when they involved girls.
Especially when they'd been... nice.
He remembered Miku, sitting on the bench, silently reading history.
He remembered her soft voice, and the fact that she had said he "didn't bother her."
Nobody said that about him.
Most people tolerated him.
Or ignored him.
Or felt sorry for him.
But she...
She simply shared silence with him.
Nothing else.
Nothing less.
"Tch..." he sighed. "What an unnecessary complication."
He walked a few more meters.
But even while trying to deny it, a part of him—a very small, very hidden, and completely denied part—felt something like...
Tranquility.
That kind of tranquility that only comes when you find someone who doesn't demand anything.
Someone who exists in their own world, just as quiet, just as distant.
"It was just a chance encounter. Nothing more."
He repeated that to himself, like a mantra.
"Youth is still a mistake..." he murmured, "but some mistakes are less annoying than others."
And as he continued on his way, without realizing it, the weight on his chest was a little lighter than usual.
Just a little.
But for Hikigaya Hachiman... it was too much.
END OF CHAPTER