Chapter 6 / Tilting at Windmills
Dates are delicious fruits that have served as a sugary staple of the Middle East, the Indus Valley, pretentious smoothie shops, and "healthy" bakeries for innumerable generations.
Dates, on the other hand, are sick and contrived beasts of ritual that lure people in with the promise of love - soft kisses beneath a sea of fireworks, romantic nights out on a luxury cruise, a pair of shapely legs upon a sultry bed - before consuming them whole without hesitation. If some delusional animal wrangler were to approach you with an offer to observe one of these monsters in their natural habitat, you'd be wise to turn around and put as much distance as possible between you and that sadist.
That sadist being Yukino Yukinoshita, who also happens to be standing right in front of me.
I should really start taking my own advice.
"Hikigaya-kun." She balances my name carefully on her lips, shifting the syllables just so.
"...Yukinoshita. Hello."
The Saturday breeze devours the ensuing silence between us. It folds her cerulean skirt against her legs and blows strands of black hair across her face.
Yukinoshita's eye twitches. I use my free hand to stifle a cough.
"...Want to come in?"
"I'm glad to know that even creatures like you can still muster up some scraps of hospitality."
"You know, it's not too late for me to close the door."
"You could have just as easily never opened it," she retorts, gesturing at the peephole.
I let out a scoff as Yukinoshita steps inside and straightens her bangs. "And leave a lady waiting in the cold, all by her lonesome?"
"Hikigaya-kun." My name sounds colder this time, like frost rolling off her lips.
"Yes?"
"Please do not ever consider a career in comedy. Your attempt at humor is disturbing."
"Tch. Quite brave of you to stab a man in his own house."
"Et tu, Brute?"
If I didn't know any better, I would have sworn that Yukinoshita just smirked as she said that. The mockery in her tone is palpable.
"Nice try," I counter. "Brutus and Caesar were friends."
"And?" Her response almost feels like a taunt, daring me to say more.
Something clenches my heart tight. There is a tinge of wistfulness to my voice that deeply irks me.
"You... said we aren't..."
"Friends?" Yukinoshita slips off her shoes and sighs. "I think you know the answer to that."
My breath, hitched at the back of my throat, dissipates and is no more.
...It's so strange.
I should have expected nothing else from Yukinoshita.
If I expected nothing, I should be satisfied with nothing. Nothing gained, yet nothing lost. A zero-sum game.
It should be a thing of beauty - the perfect outcome.
Yet somehow it isn't. Somehow, I find myself expecting more.
And I can't help but hate myself for it.
There is nothing else uttered between us as we walk into the living room.
Nothing, that is, until the Ice Princess spots the family cat tucked into the shape of a loaf on the sofa.
Whatever governing body responsible for Yukinoshita's dignity is then promptly overthrown in a coup d'état and replaced by martial law.
"Nyaaa~" she coos softly while bending down to scratch Kamakarun's head. The cat instantly rolls over and purrs with the intensity of a V8 engine, exposing its belly shamelessly in a display indicative of immense pleasure.
This does not sit well with me.
"Kamakarun, you prostitute."
A sharp glare from Yukinoshita nearly slices off my retinas. "Hikigaya-kun, please refrain from being vulgar to the cat."
"Clearly it's the cat who's being vulgar. Just look at it, presenting itself to outsiders for belly rubs like a common whore," I argue. As if to prove my point, Kamakarun flops around and begins greedily licking his mistress's fingers. This is cold-hearted betrayal of a sworn pact between man and animal. Only a Hikigaya is allowed to massage Kamakarun's belly!
"It's not the cat's fault for being deprived of proper affection and seeking it elsewhere," Yukinoshita shoots back. She opens her mouth, intent on driving me into the ground with a million sharp icicles of logic, only to discard her words in favor of making more cat noises at Kamakarun. "Meow... meow..."
"Please stop psychoanalyzing my relationship with my cat; you should know that he already occupies the highest echelon available in this household and has no need for your sympathy."
"As he should," she agrees. I watch helplessly as Yukinoshita continues to pet the feline in front of her into infinite bliss, tilting her head inquisitively to the side as if asking it a question. "Meow... meow... meow... meooooow?"
They say that cats are empathetic animals. Time to put this theory to the test. I turn around to look the little tramp square in the eyes, hoping my pure and honest feelings will reach him. "Kamakarun, you're breaking your master's heart."
No sooner do these words leave my lips than the bastard tilts his head upwards to beg for chin rubs.
The audacity.
I pull up the search engine on my mobile phone and begin typing furiously: HOW TO EXCOMMUNICATE YOUR CAT-
"So, how did you manage it?"
It takes me a moment to recognize that Yukinoshita is in fact talking to me, not to the backstabbing little devil. "Manage what?"
"Getting Zaimokuza a date with his lov-" A cough. "I mean, his... admirer." She stiffens a little, taken aback by her near choice of verbiage.
"So you didn't think I could actually do it? Gee, Yukinoshita, I'm hurt," I deadpan.
"Of course not."
"...That was rather honest."
"Honesty is indeed a lacking trait in today's youth, isn't it?"
"It's a lacking trait in everything. Imagine if electronics companies actually admitted to planned obsolescence, or if salespeople warned you about the ground-up bugs in your instant coffee."
The girl looks perplexed. "Instant... coffee?"
"The choice drink of poor individuals," I translate. "For instance, me."
She nods thoughtfully. "I see."
"I'm really hoping that my sarcasm didn't just completely elude you. That would be an unlikely first."
"No, Hikkifroggy-kun; upon further consideration, it makes perfect sense that you'd have a taste for liquefied insects. I assume it aids somewhat in digestion, no?"
"Ack..." I had that one coming. Never assume naiveté whenever this girl is concerned.
"But enough of this." Yukinoshita takes her hands away from the cat and sighs. "Were you truly convinced of your ability to talk a complete stranger into meeting someone like Zaimokuza?"
"Come on." I sneer. "I explained it to you earlier in our call. Any girl willing to engage Zaimokuza in conversation would likely have low self-esteem and a slew of other personality defects. Someone like me could easily exploit these in order to..."
My voice trails off when I realize that Yukinoshita's steely attention is now fully focused on me. From behind the couch, Kamakarun meows disapprovingly.
"You are not a villain, Hikigaya."
It's such a simple statement - an observation that Yukinoshita tosses crisply into the air, like flicking a penny into a fountain to make a wish. Yet it is enough to cut every strand of logic I have into two, stopping me exactly where I stand.
The tide pools in her eyes.
"...No," I answer after a long while. "I didn't think I could do it."
"Yet here you are," she muses. "Having evidently accomplished the inconceivable. Don't you find it odd?"
"That I actually went and did something?"
"That she said yes."
There is nothing else for me to do but nod in agreement.
And with that, my interrogator turns curtly upon her heels and walks towards the door. "Then let's go," she breathes.
"Wait - Go where now?"
Yukinoshita regards me as if I just managed to fail an IQ test.
"The date, Hikigaya-kun."
Did I mention how I don't like dates? They're coarse and rough and irritating-
...Right, I did. At the very beginning. Mhm.
I suppose I have nothing else to complain about for the time being.
The sky is slightly overcast, painting the Chiba streets with a welcome shade. The afternoon wind is strong enough to curl across my skin but not strong enough to dishevel my hair, carrying a certain sweetness from the sea that leaves a cool tang across my tongue. The streets contain an ideal balance of people - a mailman here, a salaryman there, a mother and a child holding a red balloon - sufficient for dotting the canvas with a pinch of everyday civilization and nothing more. The omelette I had for breakfast, now digesting agreeably in my stomach, was seasoned to perfection and thus tasted fantastic. To put it simply, the day is set up perfectly for a walk.
And the person walking beside me?
Yukino Yukinoshita.
Is she a positive in this situation? Perhaps neutral? Or maybe a weird mix of both?
I just know that right now, in this particular instant, dappled by shade and touched gently by the breeze, I wouldn't consider her to be a negative.
Why?
Once again, the answer painfully eludes my grasp.
We round the block before I finally decide to speak. Something has been bothering me.
"Care to explain why you asked something of me that you deemed impossible from the start?"
"My, so direct." Yukinoshita laughs softly.
I shrug. "I expect a great answer from you, Ms. Honesty-Is-A-Lacking-Virtue."
"And what if I lied?" This response catches me off guard.
"...Then you'd be a hypocrite. Like everyone else."
"I suppose I would," she agrees after a moment. Then she turns towards me. "And what about you? What if you lied?"
"About what?"
"About anything."
Her question wraps its way around my mind and weighs on it like an anchor.
"Nothing much, I guess. I'm already a liar."
This elicits a wry smile from Yukinoshita. "But the ends justify the means, I assume?"
"The ends justify the means. I'm results-oriented. You know that."
"And how," she sighs. Her eyes pierce ahead beyond the horizon, pondering yet another question that I do not know.
So much for my answer.
We walk the next few blocks wordlessly, allowing the humming of car engines and songbirds to stand in for conversation. I watch as a young couple in their early twenties, blissfully in love, stroll past us hand-in-hand - that is, until the boy untangles his fingers and not-so-discreetly slips them up his companion's skirt for a daring squeeze. To no one's surprise, the intruding hand is swiftly slapped away and choice words are exchanged. His lover, however, evidently does not detest his adventurousness as much as her slap would indicate, as the two of them quickly become entangled in a passionate kiss.
I glance back at Yukinoshita, who observes the scene in abject horror.
"They should die for their sins," I offer.
"Mildly rotisseried over the flames of hell," she agrees with a shudder.
"You know, it's rather rare for you to indulge in my cynical worldview."
Yukinoshita narrows her eyes at me. "Only extremists fail to make exceptions. You would do well to remember that."
"Thank you, Your Graciousness, for gracing me with yet another one of your graceful maxims," I mutter.
My wisecrack is deftly swept aside as she continues.
"In this case, engaging in such shameless displays of affection without any disregard for the public eye is... sickening." She shakes her head in disgust. "How utterly distasteful."
"Youth is a candy-coated lie," I nod affirmatively.
"And we are all but ants," Yukinoshita mockingly intones, "Driven by society to consume such sweet deceptions."
"Amen."
"Was the sarcasm not apparent enough in my voice?"
"No, it was." I shrug. "And don't knock it if it's true."
"I might agree with your ideals, were they not tainted by your perverse thinking," she taunts.
"Whose thinking is perverse, now?"
"Yours, obviously. Despite what you might say, you definitely got all kinds of unseemly ideas from that couple's behavior."
"H-Hey now... My hands are in my pockets," I quickly point out. Just what kind of lowly person do you think I am?!
"Hikigaya-kun."
"Y-Yes?"
"Please do not come within a ten-foot radius of me."
"That's... rather harsh..."
She crosses her arms in a defensive posture. "Additionally, please also ensure that your gaze does not fall in my general direction."
I protest. "Now you're just being unreasonable."
"Nothing is too unreasonable when it comes to a maiden taking measures to shield herself from an animal's lewd intentions."
"I'm an animal now? You wound me."
"You were always an animal, Hikkifroggy-kun," Yukinoshita scoffs. "In fact, on second thought, deeming you an animal indeed sounds far too generous. You've always struck me as quite the insect - no, a rather ordinary garden weed."
Ouch. In one fell swoop, I have been knocked out of the animal kingdom entirely and am now a mere stone's throw away from being reduced to plankton.
"How the mighty have fallen," I grumble.
"Implying that you were ever mighty to begin with."
"For the record, I was not thinking of... whatever it is you thought I was thinking of."
"What a brilliant defense. It truly is a wonder why a law farm has not scouted you yet," she remarks.
"Oi, I'm serious!"
"Of course you are."
This woman...
"If I manage to convince you of my innocence, do I get promoted back to the human race?"
Yukinoshita appears to ponder this briefly before making up her mind. "If you manage to convince me, you may go back to being a frog."
"Can't we at least meet each other halfway and agree on a chimpanzee?"
"Frog. Your mere existence among chimpanzees would be an insult to such an intelligent species."
"Sloth?" I plead.
"Frog."
"Ack... F-Fine."
I seethe quietly amidst my own defeat.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
Yukinoshita looks at me expectantly. "I thought you were about to plead your case?"
"Not anymore," I sigh.
"Why?"
"If the reward is just reincarnation as a frog, I think I'll pass."
"I take it this is your admission of guilt?"
"Let me photosynthesize in peace."
"Hmm. Guilty as charged, then."
"Whatever Your Honor wishes," I retort, rolling my eyes. A sudden desire to go home and take a nap swells within me.
She smiles. "I do not ever recall hearing a vegetable talk."
"...You got me there."
"Quiet, vegetable."
"..."
The remainder of the walk is filled with silence.
At last, the café comes into view. It's a picturesque little place fit for a travel brochure. A row of meticulously groomed flower bushes lines the front of the comely enclosure, and the warm smell of brewing coffee wafts out into the winter air. Passerby, headed for a train or wandering off to work weekend shifts, shuffle inside with glum faces and leave the swinging doors smiling with piping hot chocolate and pastries in hand.
...Is this the type of place Yukinoshita would take somebody to on a first date?
In any case, I could definitely see myself coming here.
"What do you think?"
I stare at the girl who dragged me from the comfort of my home on a Saturday in order to orchestrate a ludicrous dating sim scenario.
"It's beautiful," I remark honestly.
She's oddly quiet for a few moments.
"...That's rather high praise, coming from you."
"It is." I look back at the café. "Even my rotten eyes can recognize something worthwhile every now and then."
"I see," Yukinoshita murmurs, pushing her bangs aside. "This whole situation is rather strange, would you not agree?"
"You could say that."
"We don't exactly excel at playing matchmaker," she notes.
"Speak for yourself," I smirk. "I, for one, am Cupid incarnate."
"Just imagining you in a frilly tutu is enough to make me nauseous."
"Hey, just imagining you in a frilly tutu is-"
I realize where my retort is headed and pull hard on the brakes. Too late. Yukinoshita shoots me a truly awe-inspiring death glare.
"You are twenty feet too close, Hikigaya-kun."
"Oh come on now, it was just a minor slip of the tongue," I try to argue.
"Make that thirty - no, forty feet."
"Besides, it was a comically oversized tutu that left you fully covered from head to toe-"
"Please relocate to the next prefecture," she demands coldly.
"T-That's not exactly up to me, mind you."
"Your feet belong to you, do they not?"
"...You want me to walk there?!"
"Preferably barefoot. And on gravel, not pavement, if possible."
My feet ache just thinking about such punishment.
"I humbly apologize," I manage through gritted teeth. "Henceforth, I pledge to refrain from imagining you in frilly garments."
"Please do not imagine me in any garments, for that matter-"
The double entendre within this statement reaches Yukinoshita a moment too late, and she immediately looks away to hide her embarrassment.
"...You did not hear that."
I nod, counting the heads of passerby to forget about the warmth spreading rapidly across my own face.
"In fact, I never said anything even remotely suggestive."
"No, you did not," I agree weakly. Inside, however, I can't help but laugh.
This one's on you, Yukinoshita.
"S-Shall we return to where we were in our discussion?" She stiffly stammers.
"...Yeah."
"It's... a rather strange situation."
"Sure is."
"As I was saying earlier, we are not quite good at... whatever it is we have been doing."
"No, we are not."
"Which makes this girl - whoever she is - all the more strange for accepting our request." Yukinoshita finally appears to be regaining some of her legendary composure.
"Zaimokuza's request," I correct her.
"At least, that is what we have been led to believe," she muses cryptically.
"You think we're being duped by a random girl from an internet forum whom we haven't even met? On what basis?"
"I don't know," Yukinoshita admits. "Dulcyneah... Dulcyneah..." She breathes each syllable carefully, sifting the sounds around in search for an answer.
"What about her?"
"The name. Something about it stands out as entirely odd to me, yet still I fail to put my finger on it."
"It's rare to see you so frustrated over something this trivial," I observe.
"Being unable to see an answer placed directly before your eyes tends to do that to a person, Hikigaya-kun."
For some reason, this statement brings a chill down my spine.
"...I guess I can relate."
"In any case," she continues to wonder, "Why would someone interested in cosplay select a character from a literary work like Don Quixote as a username?"
I scratch my head in thought. Despite my unabashed love for the Spanish classic, it's been quite a while since I last read it through to completion. My recollection of the novel's details has gotten slightly fuzzy in the meantime. "Maybe she just has good taste?"
"A girl, interested in the same juvenile nonsense that consumes Zaimokuza daily, is suddenly deemed to have good taste? Unlikely."
"I don't see you labeling Pan-san as 'juvenile nonsense' despite its five-to-ten year old target demographic," I point out. As expected, Yukinoshita's face flushes several shades of red at once.
"Pan-san," she begins measuredly, doing her best to ignore the scarlet flooding her cheeks, "is a beloved cultural icon that appeals to children and adults alike."
"I don't know, Yukinoshita. That sounds like something someone trying to deny their love for a children's mascot would say."
Yukinoshita glares defiantly at me. "S-Say what you will, you frog. Pan-san is the epitome of good taste. Appreciation for such a wholesome, bamboo-loving character transcends age itself."
Yeah.
Bringing this up will never get old.
"Right, right. Anyways, I'll be on the lookout for anything fishy," I offer.
"That would be wise," she replies after a bit, evidently still a little unnerved. "Do you see Zaimokuza-kun or Yuigahama-san anywhere?"
I scan the people surrounding the cafe. "Nope. Doesn't look like they've arrived yet."
"We have some time, then," she mutters, her thoughts now seemingly elsewhere. Yukinoshita's back is turned to me, and her fingers are gripping the folds of her skirt tight.
"Hikigaya-kun?"
Something inside me jumps upon hearing her call my name.
"What is it?" I manage to ask.
"Do you recall the maxim I taught you earlier?"
"...'Only extremists fail to make exceptions,' was it?"
She nods before asking a second question. "Would you consider yourself an extremist?"
"I'm not sure what you mean by that."
"Somebody who never compromises his ideals by any means," Yukinoshita explains softly. "Somebody who would rather break under the weight of the sky than bend an inch in compromise."
"Like Atlas?"
"Like Atlas."
Images of a man bearing the entire world on his shoulders pass through my mind - a superhuman figure shackled to an infinite weight, yoked to the noblest of burdens. Towering. Righteous. Heroic.
And utterly, utterly alone.
"No." The word slips out instinctively, almost defensively, before my lips can seek to reclaim it. "I'm no Atlas," I sneer. "I'm a liar, through and through."
A faint smile moves across her face. "A liar, or a hypocrite?"
"There's not much of a difference, is there?"
Yukinoshita thinks about this for a moment. "You might be right, Hikigaya-kun." She sighs, and for a second it almost seems like she's stifling a laugh. "I suppose hypocrites just lie to themselves."
"...Yeah," I respond numbly.
A familiar silence settles between us before Yukinoshita finally breaks it in two.
"I will wait for Yuigahama-san and Zaimokuza-kun to get here. You-"
I interrupt before she can finish. "I'll head on inside and scout out a table."
My feet start towards the cafe until a warm hand freezes me in place. I turn around, and Yukinoshita is facing me once again, all pretense stripped away, her breath curling into the cold air until it is no more.
"Have you found it yet - something genuine?"
Everything comes to a sudden halt as I stand there, looking for an answer in the girl before me but finding only my own reflection.
"No," I reply quietly.
"Is that so?"
For some reason, Yukinoshita doesn't seem surprised at all by this answer. She looks at me, looks at me, at something that perhaps only she can see, something only she can find.
"Neither have I."
As she walks away, I can almost swear that the wind itself echoes her next words.
"Isn't that a coincidence now, Hikigaya-kun?"
"One black coffee, please. Extra sugar."
"Will that be all, sir?"
"Yes." I mindlessly count out some change and lay it on the counter for the cashier, who nods in acknowledgement.
"Thank you. Your order will be ready soon."
Two minutes later, and a thick paper cup filled with steaming hot coffee is waiting for me at the end of the counter. Grabbing my drink, I walk over to a cozy seat near a bookshelf and slump down. Yukinoshita is all I can think about. Her voice. Her words. Her black hair made light by the breeze, disappearing further and further into the crowd.
Annoyed, I take a sip of my coffee to clear my mind and immediately grimace.
So much for extra sugar.
I trudge back to the counter and return with five packets of the good stuff.
The last thing I need right now is something bitter.
As I stir in the sugar, packet by packet, I consider what Yukinoshita said to me regarding her suspicions surrounding the case.
"Dulcyneah..." I mutter.
What's in a name?
Is it really that significant?
An idea comes to mind. I scan the bookshelf, and with my luck, I spot a weathered paperback copy of Don Quixote sandwiched awkwardly between The Three Musketeers and this week's Shōnen Jump. Time to brush up. It takes only a brief lunge of my somewhat flexible Hikigaya arms before Cervantes' timeless masterpiece rests securely in my hands.
Opening the novel to a random page, I'm just about to start reading when my phone suddenly buzzes.
1 NEW MESSAGE: CHIBACON FORUMS.
I tap on the notification, log into Zaimokuza's account, and swipe open his direct messaging inbox. Sure enough, it's the unknown variable that has been at the center of this whole ordeal.
DULCYNEAH: can't wait for our little date!
Keep this up, stranger. You might be a dude, for all we know. A disgusting, sweaty, middle-aged dude posing as a high school girl to fulfill some ill-conceived fetish. But I suppose I'll do my part to entertain you - for now.
ZKUZAZERO: Me too! Meet me at the café like we discussed-
Wait. It needs to feel more convincing. Where's the charisma? Where's the pizzazz? I consult my brain's highly limited stores of knowledge related to texting girls before triumphantly unearthing what I'm sure is the missing piece to this puzzle.
ZKUZAZERO: Me too! Meet me at the café like we discussed. :)
Perfection.
What will your response to this brilliant line be, I wonder?
DULCYNEAH: oh?
DULCYNEAH: I'm already here.
...
...Huh?
ZKUZAZERO: You got there early?
DULCYNEAH: hmm... looks like I'm exactly on time :3
From the looks of it, some sort of misunderstanding must have occurred. My head throbs slightly. Yukinoshita hasn't confirmed Zaimokuza's arrival with me yet. This could complicate things.
DULCYNEAH: is something the matter?
ZKUZAZERO: No, I just think there might have been some misunderstanding on your part.
DULCYNEAH: doesn't seem like it to me
DULCYNEAH: maybe the one who is misunderstanding... is you? :P
ZKUZAZERO: ...
ZKUZAZERO: Forget about it. It's fine.
ZKUZAZERO: Do you mind waiting a bit?
DULCYNEAH: I HAVE been waiting...
DULCYNEAH: all this time ;(
ZKUZAZERO: ...Sorry. Wait a little longer, please?
ZKUZAZERO: Not there yet.
I'm getting ready to call Yukinoshita and inform her of the situation when my phone buzzes again, as if issuing a final warning. Ignoring it, I let my thumb swipe its way back to the text messenger.
DULCYNEAH: but you ARE here, aren't you?
ZKUZAZERO: I'm not?
DULCYNEAH: it's rather rude of you to lie to a lady, you know. :(
ZKUZAZERO: ...I don't understand.
DULCYNEAH: After all, weren't you the one asked me out on a date?
Then I read her next message and freeze.
DULCYNEAH: My cynical little loner.
.
...
...
...No.
It can't be.
It can't.
My phone clatters onto the floor.
With shaking hands, I grip the page from Don Quixote that I turned to earlier, reciting an ancient omen come true.
"...her name is Dulcinea, her country El Toboso, a village of La Mancha, her rank must be at least that of a princess, since she is my queen and lady, and her beauty superhuman..."
The book snaps shut.
You were right, Yukinoshita. All this time.
You were a mere two letters away from the truth.
I may have told you about the username over the phone, but I never cared to mention the subtle change in spelling.
After all, I failed to even notice it myself.
Dulcinea del Toboso.
Dulcyneah of Chiba.
Two deceitful beauties - the first of which was spun into existence by an author now resting in his grave.
And the other?
She's very much still alive.
Dulcinea. Dulcyneah.
Two small letters that separate fiction from cold, ruthless fact.
Y. H.
I'm sorry, Zaimokuza. I was wrong.
I was blind.
Your online friend is most definitely a girl - just the most unfortunate kind.
Will Quixote ever stop dreaming about his self-invented love?
Will Zaimokuza ever cease pining over his illusory romance?
Are we doomed to this circular destiny, tilting at windmills forever?
From the floor, my phone buzzes one last time.
DULCYNEAH: The seat in the back corner. ^_-
I sip my coffee and muster enough strength to walk. The sugar burns my mouth with something sickeningly sweet, leaving behind a vile aftertaste. How appropriate.
On my way there, I throw it into the trash.
It occurs to me that Don Quixote once said something very interesting – something I have never paid attention to until this moment:
"Love and war are all one. It is lawful to use sleights and stratagems to attain the wished end."
What if this were true? What if love is really just a cruel, bloodstained war?
In such a world, which roles do we each play?
Zaimokuza is the new recruit, fed with false tales of glory and sent to die on the front lines.
Yuigahama is an average soldier who fights, gets wounded, and fights again, hoping to see another day.
Hiratsuka-sensei is the Panzer tank that nobody quite wants to approach.
Yukinoshita is still an utter mystery.
And I am a draft dodger who rejects the ethos of it all.
So who is the young woman sitting cross-legged before me, perching the corners of her brilliant smile atop folded hands?
I wish I didn't know.
She is the general, the mastermind, the commander of this new Reich. With porcelain fingers she decides which battles should be fought and which soldiers must become fodder, pushing the pieces around the map at her slightest whim or fancy. She is everywhere yet nowhere, ever flawless yet never satisfied.
"Hikigaya-kun! How nice of you to drop by~!"
She is, in short, Yukinoshita Haruno.
Author Notes:
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.
.
.
Four years.
I started this four years ago.
Damn.
Well, would you look at that?
I'm back and out for blood.
Hope you enjoyed the longest chapter so far. I treat this story as a way to practice and further refine my style, and with this upload, it certainly feels like I've done just that.
If anything at all in this story tickled your fancy and you'd like to see it continue, do consider dropping a review and letting me know what you think.
(I hate saying this bit, by the way.)
(But trust me - it goes a long way in terms of encouraging me to write some more.)
Anyways,
Happy fucking New Year. :)