As of the time of me typing this, the Golden State Warriors have won the NBA Finals, and I've come to realize that I'll be without basketball for a few months. What better way to lament than with a story featuring everyone's favorite loner? No, I'm not crying. You're crying.

This little story has been sitting in my mind for a while now. Motivation and I have an on-off relationship, but I would like to develop this idea further. Kawasaki is grossly underrepresented in this community, and I think it's high time someone changed that.

Done babbling. Enjoy the story.

And so, Hikigaya Hachiman confronts his greatest fear.

I, Hikigaya Hachiman, experienced loner and future house husband, despise working.

What is there to gain from such a practice? Money? Friends? The sense of duty you feel from contributing to the overall productivity of your country? Perhaps. A valid argument could be made from either one of those three reasons. To work is to progress, after all, and progression is made through the amount of work you exude through it.

But, what of the inverse theory? What is there to gain from not working? An easy answer would be time, which you could argue is more important than any of the three points made above. The value of time trumps all. For what is money if you have no time to spend it? Friends with whom you cannot spend time with? A duty to your country if no time is put forth into being productive? A waste, most certainly.

I pride myself on how I use my time. Rather than stoop to society's level and fall for the trap of becoming a corporate slave, I live my life in my own visage. My way of life is dictated by me, not by those around me. My ability to think for myself is my gift from God. And my ability to refuse to work is something I will cherish for the rest of my gloriously sufficient life.

But yet, I cannot help but wonder. What is there to gain from working? Is there a possible benefit that I might have overlooked? A certain aspect of working unknown to the world, even to me? These thoughts have plagued my mind for some time now, and frankly, it's hard to ignore.

Kawa... something provides a great example of the possible effects of getting a job. She sleeps, smokes, and locks herself away from literally almost everyone. Her eyes are almost as rotten as mine, and though she keeps her grades above failing, she's nowhere near a top student. As I surmised, the effects of work are fatal indeed.

But still, there exist benefits. Her reasons for working are just, and though she doesn't seem to enjoy it, the sense of fulfillment seems to be enough for her. Is that feeling enough to overshadow all of the downfalls of working? Perhaps there really is more than meets the eye when it comes to filthy, filthy employment.

Plus, she's kind of nice. She can be a real sweetheart when she wants to be.

A strange feeling of knowingness washes over me. 'Wait... if I somehow got Kawasomething to provide for me, I could finally make my dream of living as a modern day house-husband a reality!'

Admittedly, we weren't the best of friends, but that was simply due to a lack of contact! With a few "accidental" run-ins here and there, and maybe a few visits to her job, we could be cozied up with our future children in our obnoxiously large house in no time at—!

"Hikigaya-kun," A voice rang out to me, ripping me from my thoughts. Glancing over, I noticed Yukinoshita giving me her trademark cold stare. Yuigahama looked worried.

A sigh from across the table was heard, followed by her disappointed tone. "Did you even hear what I was saying?"

I considered lying to be one of my strong points, but everything went out the window when it came to this damn woman. "Afraid not, sorry."

"As expected from such a low-level creature like yourself. You'll only pay attention to anything that's half-naked."

I frowned disapprovingly. "I believe you've mistaken me for the likes of Zaimokuza. I take that in the highest offense."

Yukinoshita was quick to retort, eyes narrowing in the process. "You must think you're hilarious, HikkiNEET."

"Well, I'm certainly the funniest person you know."

"You're revolting."

"Glad to hear it. What were we talking about?"

"I received a request earlier today!" Yuigahama exclaimed, as if it were an achievement. She had apparently grown rather adept at ignoring Yukinoshita and I's constant banter. "She'll be coming by later this afternoon to discuss her problem with us."

"You're proud of the fact that we have to work?" I asked, incredulous. Did the energy of normal people know no bounds? "Better yet, they asked you for advice?"

Her cheeks puffed angrily. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She was right. That sounded a little harsh. "I mean, if they had a request, wouldn't they just come to us after school? Seems like a lot of extra work just to let you know beforehand."

Yuigahama shifted, looking uncomfortable. "She said she didn't want to make a scene."

"There's literally only three of us here. You'd make much more of a scene than Yukinoshita and I combined."

Deep down, I felt bad for how often the social girl got teased. Then again, she deserved it for being a filthy commoner controlled by the spells of normal society.

"I-I would not!" The girl stammered, practically glowing with embarrassment. "Jeez, you're such a jerk, Hikki!"

Yukinoshita decided to end the bickering. "Who requested our services?"

Another nod from Yuigahama. "She wanted to wait until she arrived here." I sighed again, miffed. Could this girl be any more spineless? It was probably one of Hayama's innumerable followers trying to get him to notice her.

I leaned back into my chair, remaining on the topic of Hayama's obedient little fangirls. "If it's Miura trying to get us to attract Hayama for her, I vote that we kick her out."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I concur with Hikigaya-kun." Yukinoshita agreed. So she did have a heart after all.

Yuigahama didn't appear to be very fond of our comments. It's not like I cared, though— that spoiled blonde brat needed some sense beaten into her. I certainly didn't have the physical capabilities to do it, but I could try. How tough were girls anyway?

"Well, at least promise that you'll give it your all for whoever it is that walks through the door," Yuigahama purposely glanced at me when she spoke. Personally, I felt attacked. I only dirtied myself with the big jobs, not trivial matters such as meaningless confessions to a pretentious, arrogant riajuu. It didn't even matter that he was, in some sense, a nice guy. He was still an ass who knew nothing about reality.

As for myself? I would happily let that blonde wannabe hero have all the females in the world, if it meant I got to kept my ability to think critically and make decisions for myself. I didn't have time for society anyways— a monster of logic like myself was perfectly content with letting the monkeys inhabiting this world slowly bring it to its demise.

People like him were the reason that love was considered so important in the first place. Though it was nothing more than an illusion compelling the idiots on this planet to breed, he openly encouraged it, spreading a false sermon about how love "could solve anything", and how it willed us to "put our best foot forward". It was like something from a crappy shounen manga.

Even though it was all an act designed to satisfy the people around him, that trait of his would be his clique's downfall. It would burn out in a blaze of terrible glory for all to see. The relationships he had built would come tumbling down around him, and he wouldn't be able to do anything but flash that winning smile of his and move on. It was all he had learned to do.

But I knew the truth. Love was almost always false. A lie constructed by society built to shield people from how harsh reality was. Something for people to dote on at home, wishing that their lives were anything like what they saw on TV or read in tabloids and novels, trying their best to ignore that their own world was collapsing into a series of monotonous events made by their own weak-willed hands, and that nothing they did could change who they had become.

Though it was absolutely sickening to admit, a part of my naïve self could believe that "true love" existed. However, any real, genuine love was quickly demolished by the jealous masses, envious of what they didn't have. Like a spoiled child denied a toy. Such acts had become commonplace in normal society, especially in high schools. I had been witnessing it firsthand.

The world was souring— it wouldn't be long before it went to hell in a handbasket. And I wouldn't miss it for anything.

I glanced at Yukinoshita, who was engrossed in a book I had never seen before. Deep down, I knew she agreed with me. Loathe as we both were to admit it, our minds were one in the same. Loners on different sides of the social spectrum, but with similar aspects of society and reality. Truly, we made a scary duo.

"Hikki, why are you smiling so suddenly? It's gross."

Yes, the world would certainly burn one day. I'd be sure of it.

A knock on the door drew our club's attention, accompanied by the sound of the door sliding open. A soft voice rang out, "Excuse me," one that felt vaguely familiar to me.

That's when I saw her— long, slender legs, followed by an equally lengthy amount of azure hair. An expression that pierced the heavens, with a beauty mark placed squarely under the right eye. She made her way inside the room, awkwardly shuffling by the door.

Speak of the working-class teenager, and she shall appear.

"Ah, Kawasaki-chan, you made it!" Yuigahama chirped aloud. Was the default noise setting for social people always that high? I'd need to contact customer service.

She spoke shyly— a rarity, since she always acted so calm and collected when I interacted with her. Offhandedly, I wondered if she was still wearing Black Lace. It looked nice on her.

"Pardon the intrusion," She kept her normally intense eyes downcast, and made her way to the seat Yukinoshita had set out for her. Retreating momentarily, the dark-haired girl brought back a cup of tea and placed it in neatly in front of the girl, prompting a quiet thanks.

It'd been some time since I last conversed with Kawasomething. She was a bit of a rare sight these days— between her job and caring for her siblings, she was almost always busy. Her schedule must have been getting even more hectic, as she had begun to skip more and more days of school. Hiratsuka-sensei understood, thankfully, and didn't punish her for her repeated absences.

She looked the same as she always did. Her hair was pulled into a long ponytail, and she had tied her jacket around her waist. Modest, like her personality.

My thoughts drifted back to my previous monologue concerning the girl before me, and I was forced to suppress an uncomfortable cough.

"Kawasaki-san," Yukinoshita spoke, a tiny smile adorning her pristine features. "It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise," The girl replied, regaining a bit of that regal presence she was known for. "Again, thank you for last time. Your assistance was extremely valuable, and I've been doing much better since then."

"Of course!" Yuigahama beamed. "We're always glad to help!"

I choose to remain silent, watching the scene from afar. At least it hadn't been Miura.

But then again, what could Kawasomething possibly want? She certainly wasn't the type of person to ask for help. She was fiercely independent, and only asked for help only when it was absolutely necessary— even then, assistance was minimal.

'Must be serious then,' I sighed. Something told me that this wasn't going to be a simple run-of-the-mill Hayama request.

Taking a quick sip from her tea cup, Yukinoshita seated herself comfortably before speaking again. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Kawasaki-san?"

"Well... it's nothing major," Kawasaki nervously rubbed her arm. "To be honest, it's kind of silly..."

"Nonsense! Nothing is too silly!" Yuigahama, ever the enthusiastic, raved before her. Sometimes it was hard to tell her apart from her own excitable dog.

"Yeah, well..." Kawasaki continued, eyes drifting towards me. I was in very little rush to be involved in this conversation. Think of me more as an NPC bystander.

Though, for the club's sake, I supposed that I had to put forth at least some modicum of effort. I decided to let myself be known. "Alright, what is it?"

She regained her composure before speaking. "Lately, there's been a series of... incidents occurring near the general area of my night job. It's been a bit hard on the community, and everyone's really high on alert. People are starting to get concerned."

From across the room, I was able to see Yuigahama hanging on to every word. Yukinoshita listened with intrigue, hand resting politely in front of her mouth.

"It's late at night, and my house is a little far from where I work, so..."

"You don't feel comfortable going home alone." Yukinoshita finished for her. Kawasaki nodded in response.

"... Basically."

"Have you tried contacting authorities?" Yukinoshita pushed forward, eyeing Kawasaki.

"Yes. They don't offer any sort of escort service, especially since the police force is as small enough as it is."

Rubbing her chin, Yukinoshita willed herself into deep thought. It was a face I personally knew well. Nothing good normally came from that expression, unfortunately, especially for me.

"I see..."

And suddenly, all eyes were on me.

"What?"

"Jeez, Hikki! Learn to read the room!" Yuigahama reprimanded me. Since when did you gain the authority and permission to reprimand me, an intellectual?

"I think our next course of action is rather simple," Continuing, Yukinoshita pointed a feminine finger at me. "Hikigaya-kun, you will be tasked with escorting Kawasaki-san home after work."

My jaw dropped, almost comically. Today was just not my day.

"Why me? Can't we all take turns escorting her home?"

"No. You live close to Kawasaki-san, if I'm not mistaken— certainly closer than Yuigahama-san and I do." Nonchalantly, she moved a long stray hair behind her ears. "Besides, having a lady escort another lady hardly counts as effective protection."

Pulling the woman card effectively? Classic Yukinoshita. I'd applaud you were I not seething in disapproval.

"Do you know how late she likely gets off at?" I asked, eyeing Kawasaki. She didn't seem to like the attention she was getting. "I can hardly afford to destroy my sleeping schedule for a mere club task. Such a routine would indefinitely affect my livelihood in a negative way."

"Oh?" Yukinoshita looked unconvinced. "I was under the impression that you spent a majority of your evening hours reading those disgusted, perverted light novels you're so very fond of. Am I mistaken?"

"First off, they're not perverted. They're carefully constructed pieces of forbidden, elaborate fantasy-drama. Second, if they did happen to be perverted, I wouldn't have bought them in the first place. What kind of guy do you take me for?"

Yukinoshita and Yuigahama simultaneously blanched as soon as I finished asking. I was beginning to wonder if those two got off on teaming up against me. I wouldn't be all that surprised if it were true.

Though, disregarding any prejudices within the club, I imagined that this must have been extremely awkward for Kawasaki. She'd never witnessed any of my legendary verbal battles with the infamous Ice Queen before. She must have thought that we genuinely hated each other.

"Well, actually..." Kawasaki returned to the conversation. "Some of the incidents I told you about... happened right outside of my workplace."

Gasping, Yuigahama brought a hand to her mouth in shock. "Really? That's so scary!" Please, Yuigahama, don't encourage her.

"So... I was kind of hoping that Hachi— I mean, Hikigaya-kun, could... you know..."

"Know what?" Yukinoshita and Yuigahama asked in unison.

Blushing madly, Kawasaki struggled to finish her sentence. Her eyes met my own, filled with uncertainty and embarrassment. This must have been agonizing for her, to have to forfeit her own independence and ask for help from acquaintances.

"... if you were willing to apply for a position... a-and... work with me?"

Oh.

Oh.

"Absolutely not." I replied immediately.

"W-why?!" The azure-haired girl stammered. She looked as if she had been emotionally stabbed through the heart. This was so unlike her, I kept reminding myself.

"I am not joining the workforce and destroying my entire sleeping schedule just so you can add a needless extra precaution."

"Hikki! You heard her!" Protesting, Yuigahama raised a defiant hand in my direction. "There were crimes committed just outside of her job! You're really just gonna force her to deal with it by herself?"

Well, golly, when you put it like that, you make it sound like I'm some apathetic protagonist of a crappy light novel series. How rude. I'm nothing of the sort.

"I'd expect nothing less of Hikigaya-kun," Yukinoshita piled on top of Yuigahama's comment with one of her one, eyeing me with open disgust. "He is the lowest of the low, after all."

"Go ahead and berate me all you want," I challenged, leaning back into my chair. "I've heard it all before. Do your worst."

"Pervert."

"Jerk!"

"Loser."

"Idiot!"

"Disgusting womanizer."

"Disgusting womanizer!"

"You two just said the same thing."

They could keep this up for as long as they wanted to. I had already previously mastered one of my One-Hundred-and-Eight Loner Skills— Insult Immunity!

Unfortunately, the two women beside me were incredibly resilient when it came to insulting me. Had they been practicing in private? Was this the day they had been longing for, dreaming of an opportunity to insult me into extinction? Such a day would be quite troublesome for myself, a lover of all things peaceful and orderly. At least, in my own, twisted version of peace and order.

I found myself thoroughly surprised. They kept it up for ten straight minutes. Ten. Straight. Minutes.

"Horrendous Hikikomori."

"Hikigaya, King of the Jerks!"

"The Inscrutable Scumbag."

"More dense than Osmium!... I think..."

This was starting to get annoying. Extremely annoying.

Even so, I had to remember my training. My very origins of lonerhood had trained me for this moment. You could do it, Hachiman. Their words can't hurt you. You're the loneliest loner to ever grace the earth! A few petty insults here and there weren't enough to shake your impenetrable state of mi—

"The Irreversible Virgin."

Okay, that's enough.

"Fine! You win! I'll do whatever the hell you want me to do! Just please shut up!"

From her side of the table, Yukinoshita happily allowed herself what looked to be a tiny, shit-eating grin. "Now, was that so hard?"

I swear, I'm going to verbally beat that woman to tears some day.

Kawasaki looked at me with what looked to be hope shimmering in her eyes. "You're... serious?" Did you not just hear my resignation literally seconds ago?

"Yeah, sure, whatever. How long am I going to be doing this?"

The girl had apparently calmed the nerves in her stomach, as she spoke with an apparent newfound clarity. "Only until the incidents die down. After that, you're free to go."

"When do we start?"

Somewhat abashedly, Kawasaki rubbed her arm sleeve. "Actually, I was hoping we could start as soon as possible... does tonight sound reasonable?"

Honestly, nothing about this entire situation sounded reasonable. But sure, why not? It wasn't like I had anything important going on anyways. Sleep was for the weak, right? "I guess."

"Alright, good," Kawasaki sighed, a great deal of stress visibly lifted off of her. "Meet me at the Royal Okura Hotel tonight at nine. Don't be late, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good," The girl repeated, beginning to gather her things. "Again, thank you for agreeing to this. I'd feel much safer if someone were with me during this sort of thing."

I was then reminded that Kawasaki was not a very selfish person. It must have taken her a great deal of effort to have to swallow her pride and ask for help, especially for something involving her private life. It was likely just as hard for her to ask as it was for me to accept.

"Don't mention it," I gave her a tiny (and equally forced) smile, out of courtesy. Oddly enough, however, her face reddened. Was she sick or something? Gross.

"I-I'll be taking my leave then. See you tonight," Stammering, my classmate made a somewhat frantic exit from the clubroom, returning it to its normal member count. Groaning, I leaned back into my chair.

"This sucks. Why can't I just catch a break?"

When I wasn't met with any witty comments or quips like I was expecting, I turned my attention to both of my female club mates in curiosity. Yuigahama's eyes were narrowed and her cheeks were puffed, while Yukinoshita was glaring daggers that were much colder than usual at me.

A bit nervously, I gave them a confused look. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing's wrong, you insensitive jerk!"

"Die."

Ah, yes— the world would indefinitely burn someday.

The Royal Okura Hotel was, in every sense of the word, a place of luxury.

It was definitely a large building. One would certainly be able to notice it from a lengthy distance away. Adorned with unique lighting patterns and a trendy, modern design, the hotel stood out far more than any of its neighboring establishments. Furthermore, it was famed for its grandiose setting, which translated into its individual rooms. Such a reputation was hard to uphold, but the Royal Okura stood proud nevertheless.

However, it was notorious for being high-class. Common folk (like myself) had hardly such an occasion in which renting a room would be recommended and affordable. A single night's rent was the equivalent to a quarter-monthly rent anywhere else. Truly, it was a safe haven for the upper class, to whom the Royal Okura was designed for. How Kawasaki managed to earn a position there was beyond my own thinking.

It was baffling. Was the upper class so self absorbed with themselves that they felt the need to be surrounded by luxury at all times, even as they traveled? Gourmet meals, pampered services, towels folded into the shapes of various animals— such trivial things were foreign to proud commoners like myself. What was the point? Was living like a normal person so undesirable to these people? Were they so pretentious, snooty, and opinionated that they felt the need to congratulate themselves for being successful, arrogant douches, even while they were alone? Such ideas were so immensely despicable and unholy, and I felt my disdain for the privileged only grow in prevalence within my heart and soul.

"Achoo!"

It was cold outside. Not quite stay-inside-no-matter-what type weather, but definitely not warm enough to go outside without layers. My lucky trench managed to keep me warm, and somewhat stylish— Komachi refused to let me out of the house in anything she deemed as "raggedy", especially once she found out that I was to be out with company. The little sister entity was both a blessing and a curse.

The streets were busy, despite the late night hours beginning to set in. The bustling city followed its own sense of time, apparently. I was beginning to see why Kawasaki was so afraid of traveling alone. With all of these people around, any one of them could be a potential criminal in disguise.

I neared the Royal Okura, and gradually, Kawasaki Saki came into view. Her head was swiveling at an odd pace. She seemed to be doing a lot of weird things as of late.

She was able to spot me a couple blocks away from where she was standing, her eyes illuminated under the multiple streetlights. She casually walked to me, digging her hands into her own thick jacket. It was a color similar to mine. Did all girls have the same sense of fashion?

As she neared me, her eyes revealed a bit of impatience. "You're late."

I took a calculated look at my watch. "Actually, I'm right on time. You're just early."

"Didn't your parents ever teach you to never keep a lady waiting?"

I rolled my eyes. Who did this woman think she was? "Quit patronizing me, it's cold. Let's get inside."

Thankfully, she at least seemed to share in my discomfort, and we both made our way inside the hotel. I was hit with a gust of warm air, and was treated with a wave of satisfaction. Unfortunately, this sudden comfort only made me sleepier, which was the exact thing I had been trying to avoid.

The entrance of the hotel was still what I remembered it as; exceedingly dramatic. Bright lights shone excessively throughout the main lobby, and my nose was immediately assaulted with a scent I suppose many would call pleasant. Shiny objects littered the place. I couldn't look in ay direction without being reminded of how high-class the establishment was.

Ignoring the likely many prominent and wealthy people I was surrounded by, I continued a few steps behind Kawasaki into a nearby lift. Managing to reserve one all to ourselves, my classmate quickly hit one of the many gleaming buttons, and we slowly made our ascent to the higher levels of the building.

The elevator trip up was awkward, to say the least. Not a word had been spoken between us, so I had no choice but to stare at the wall thoughtlessly. Eventually, though, my curiosity got the better of me, and I snuck a glance towards Kawasaki.

Her face was flushed. Whether it was from standing in the cold for an extended period of time or something else, I couldn't tell. Her eyes were alert and awake, despite the waning hours of the day. I would assume it to be due to her tendency to work late.

She was shifting her weight uncomfortably on each leg. Seriously, why was she acting so weird? Did someone replace the normal Kawasaki with a shy, awkward mess? Was the real Kawasaki being held hostage in some unknown location?

It was definitely off-putting, but oddly enough, I was drawn to her. The way her eyes would flutter nervously, and the way she ran a feminine hand through her long, lustrous hair was strangely alluring. She softly bit her lip, and her cheeks flushed even more, as she dug her hands deeper into her coat pockets. Was she nervous? Anxious? I was beginning to have trouble trying to get a solid read on her.

"Hikigaya?"

My eyes refocused on her. "Uh, yes?"

"You're... staring."

Smooth, Hachiman. Real smooth.

"I, uh... sorry."

Her eyes narrowing slightly, she turned away, before muttering softly into her hand.

The elevator dinged, and before I could even comprehend what was happening, Kawasaki was already out, walking at a brisk pace down the hallway. Blinking, I eventually regained my nerve and followed her, desperately trying to ease the sudden tightness in my chest.

In the back of my mind, I was a bit glad. Things might have gotten even weirder if I had stayed in that elevator with her much longer.

I followed a few steps behind her as we neared another elaborate-looking entrance. I remembered it as the door leading to where she worked. Based on looks alone, it was easy to guess the quality of the place simply based on how sparkling clean the door handle looked.

I didn't have much time to reintroduce myself to the room once we entered, as Kawasaki was apparently focused on getting me wherever she wanted me to be at in as little time possible. I had vague memories of it from my last visit with the club, and from what I was able to see, not much had changed. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get a head count of the room as I was dragged through another set of doors labeled "employees only".

The room was certainly more desolate than I had originally thought. In fact, there was no one else present barring myself and Kawasaki. In a single motion, Kawasaki flipped on an extra set of lights to help illuminate the room, before turning and calling out to someone through another hallway. "Oshino, we're here!"

Curious, I turned to the girl. "Who's Oshino?"

"My employer," She replied calmly. "Don't worry, this won't take long."

My eyes scrunched together slightly. "What won't take long?"

Before she had a chance to reply, a booming voice announced itself through the hallway Kawasaki had yelled in. "Sorry I'm late!" A rather charismatic-looking man jogged his way into the room, a sickeningly wide grin plastered on his face. It got even wider as he laid his eyes on me. Unconsciously, I shifted my hands to cover my rear.

"Hello there, friend! The name's Oshino Yakaza, but you can just call me Oshino!"

The man, Oshino, was quick to move near me. He was taller than I imagined, and looked rather to be somewhere in his mid-thirties. He had on formal looking attire, and his blonde hair was combed back neatly. "You must be the friend Kawasaki mentioned!" A flurry of cheerful emotions crossed the man's face as he circled me. "Oh, I'm so glad you came! Kawasaki-chan hardly ever talks about anyone, so I couldn't help but be excited when she started talking about bringing a friend from school over to help us!"

I could only stare uncomfortably as Oshino continued his rambling. The amount of pure happiness exuding from his presence was so overwhelming, I felt as though I would drown in it. This was who Kawasaki worked for near daily?

Wait, she already told them I was coming? Even before I had agreed?

"You must be one tough cookie if you managed to wiggle your way into being Kawasaki's friend. She's as blue-collared as they come!" A knowing and somewhat mischievous look then made its way on to his features. "Oh... wait a minute. I see what's going on here," Sliding over to the aforementioned girl, he lightly jabbed her in the ribs with his elbow as he spoke. "Geez, Kawasaki-chan, why didn't you tell me it was like that? His eyes are a little weird, but to each their own, right? Maybe I can help you both hook—"

A loud cough coming from Kawasaki's direction interrupted the man's loud musings. "W-well then, now that introductions are out of the way, why don't we get down to business?"

"Ah, so straightforward. I'd expect nothing less from you, Kawasaki-chan." Sighing, the man pulled up two chairs, one for me and another for himself. After a tiny thanks, I sat before him, Kawasaki standing not too far to the side.

"So, what's your name, friend?"

I gulped. Interviewing already? I hadn't thought much about preparing, and I was only now feeling woefully underprepared for having to talk with another human being. Welp, looked like it was time to disappoint people again!

Though, I was somewhat curious as to what would happen if I purposely bombed this interview. I was quick to change my train of thought— Kawsaki would probably castrate me if I did something like that.

"My name is Hikigaya Hachiman. I'm in the same class as Kawasaki-san. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Hey, not a bad start. Maybe all that work in the club was beginning to help my social skills?

"Ah, Hikigaya-kun," Oshino said, seeming to test how my name rolled off his tongue. "Very lovely. So, what are your skills?"

My brain froze. "... skills?"

The man's smile never faltered. "Yes, skills. Anything you're particularly good at?"

I began to sweat. Oshino had asked me the hardest question I had ever faced in my young life. Things I was good at? Did such a thing even exist?

I quickly backtracked. I had to keep my calm, but I couldn't just ignore the question. There wasn't any skip button. I had to slay the proverbial dragon by myself. It was now or never.

"Well, I'm good at taste-testing. I'm also rather skilled at problem-solving."

It was silent for a moment. I began to mentally kick myself. Taste-testing? In what way is that a skill? Outside of Komachi's cooking, I found it hard to accurately judge anyone's meal in any capacity, much less in a critically professional one. It didn't help that tasting Yuigahama's cookies had somewhat permanently scarred my taste buds for the rest of my lifetime.

Even the problem-solving suggestion was questionable, depending on who you asked. I might as well have told the dude straight up that I was a talentless loser with not special traits at all.

As I continued to internally implode, Oshino began to stroke his perfectly-styled goatee. "Taste-testing, hm...?"

I didn't dare look over in Kawasaki's direction. I didn't know if I had it in me to face her ragging on me.

However, Oshino continued to ponder, nodding his head almost comically as he carefully debated my answer. "Problem solving... taste-testing..." He continued to recite my answer, as if it were someone's name he vaguely remembered.

Then, he shot me another dazzling smile and returned to his excited form of speech. "Great! You're hired!"

Well, that was it. I tried my hardest, and came up many miles short once again. My inability to properly act like a normal human being in public had foiled my plans of participating in social settings once again. Maybe Kawasaki wouldn't beat me up too badly, if I just—

Wait.

Did he say that I'm hired?

I spoke cautiously, as to not seem too suspicious over what the man had said. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"Of course, Hikigaya-kun," Oshino obliged. "You're hired. Welcome aboard!"

The magnitude of what had just happened was finally starting to kick in. That's it? That was literally all it took? I had barely even begun talking, and now I was employed. How'd this happen?

"Hmm, since you're a bit new to this, we should probably have you start with something easy..." Rubbing his head, as if attempting to jumpstart his brain, it appeared as though he had drawn blanks. "I'll decide that later. For now, stick with Kawasaki-chan and help her with anything she needs assistance with, alright? I'll give you details later!"

I could only nod idiotically, still in a bit of a daze. Before I had even a second to question Oshino's logic (or lack thereof), he scampered off while singing some cutesy tune, leaving Kawasaki and I alone again.

I was floored. I obviously hadn't been mentally prepared for this, but not in the way I had imagined. I was expecting some hard-nosed, stick-up-the-ass superior who demanded class and excellence at all times. Such a man would certainly fit the Royal Okura's status quo.

Instead, however, I was greeted by a man who looked to have been more at home in a circus than a bar. I could certainly understand Kawasaki's exasperation with Oshino. He was the definition of a handful.

Though, he was my employer now. After that dizzying episode, I'd have to seriously try to make this whole job thing work. If not for my sake, for Kawasaki's.

I turned to said girl, hoping to get her reasonable opinion of this entire debacle. However, I was met with something that temporarily stunned me— rather than look and act confused, as I had expected, she was doing the opposite; softly, she was smiling, unsuccessfully attempting to hide it behind her own hand. I hadn't seen such an act from her, ever. Had she come down with some kind of disease? To think of Kawasaki acting like a normal girl was bizarre, even for me.

Eventually, though, she caught my staring, and quickly reverted back into the regular Kawasaki, addressing me with her trademark aggression. "W-What?"

I decided against delving into her strange actions further. Such an act would undoubtedly make her defensive, something I knew wouldn't be terribly smart. Women of any sort were not to be trifled with.

"Nothing, sorry."

An odd silence filled the room after she spoke. That weird feeling of intrigue I had felt before in the elevator returned briefly. I was beginning to seriously question the nature of this sudden burst of nerves.

Carefully, almost insufferably so, I angled my eyes towards the girl across from me. She looked to be in a similar state of thought. Were we both confused? It was logical— we were both bad with feelings. Arguably the worst in our school. Hell, we'd gotten entangled with each other in the first place in part because of our conflicting ideologies and emotions.

While I struggled with my own thoughts, I heard Kawasaki make her presence known yet again. "Well, welcome to the team, I guess," She ran a hand through her hair, before turning and heading towards the bar area. "Come on, I'll show you the ropes. Trust me, it's easier than it looks."

Standing, I made to follow her. "Is it really?"

"Yeah. Just stick by me."

I raised my hands and rested them atop my head. "Just stick by you, huh..."

Halting suddenly, however, Kawasaki stopped and quickly jogged over to a nearby closet, opening its contents and pulling out what looked to be clothes. "Here, change in to this."

She tossed them to me, and after I nearly fumbled them to the ground, I managed to get a good look at the garments. "... Isn't this what you wear?"

A tiny tinge of red made its way to her face as she answered me. "Well, sort of. This is our uniform. Sorry if it's not your size," Kawasaki then glanced in the direction her boss ran to. "We'll have to get you fitted sometime soon..."

I stared awkwardly at her, clutching the clothes in my hand and hoping she was getting the message my eyes were trying to tell her. After a good couple of seconds, she stiffened and took a step back.

"R-Right, I should let you change," Taking a couple more steps, she made to leave. "I'll go get myself ready... I'll be waiting."

And with that, my classmate and now coworker hustled out of the room, leaving me to my own devices.

I carefully glanced at the clothes I had received. Honestly, even if they were spares in a somewhat nasty closet, they still looked kind of nice. They added some sort of professionalism to whoever wore them. If only Yukinoshita could see me now.

Painfully smiling to myself, I quickly undressed and redressed myself in the uniform, and made my way towards the bar.

"Honestly, you should bring some of that coffee you always drink with you next time. That'd probably help a lot."

Breathing some warmth into my gloved hands, I shot Kawasaki a look. "You think I don't know that?"

By now, we were deep into the waning hours of the night. The moon shone in full force above us, illuminating the sky along with the trillions of stars beside it. Were I someone of good character and morals, I might have been tempted to call the night a beautiful one.

Kawasaki and I had worked until about two in the morning. Currently, I was escorting the girl to her home, keeping a careful eye out for potential criminals. As unreasonable and pointless as it was, Kawasaki had requested it, and as a member of the Service Club, I had to oblige her order.

Even in the late hours of the evening, Kawasaki still looked awake. Her eyes looked the same as they did during the school day, perhaps even more attentive than usual. It seemed she was a nightwalker, like myself. At the very least, it was something we had in common.

The job itself, as Kawasaki had promised, wasn't particularly challenging. To my relief, the night had been rather slow, and Kawasaki had more of a chance to teach me how to pour, mix, and serve. That was the first real time I felt like an actual adult in my life, even though it meant I was a few steps closer to forcibly working myself to death in a cubicle.

Plus, she was a surprisingly good teacher. Another sudden tidbit about her I hadn't known previously.

Still, I was anxious to get her home. While she may have been just fine with how late it was, I most certainly was not. My bed was beckoning to me, and I could never deny my mistress. She was the Cleopatra to my Marc Antony, the Juliet to my Romeo. Life was nothing without she of the bedsheets and pillows.

If my eyes were dead before, they were years deceased by now. I could feel the disgust and grotesqueness oozing from them. It was a wonder that I hadn't scared off Kawasaki yet. Au contraire, she seemed to be taking her sweet time, sparing a few passing glances at the buildings we walked by.

"Hey, Hachiman."

I stumbled a little. That was the first time I'd heard her say my real name in a long time. And for her to say it so boldly and out of the blue! "What's up?"

"Do you think I'm weird?"

An odd question. Had I been indicating as such? "What brought that up?"

She gave me a rather annoyed look. "Just answer the question, dumbass."

That was harsh. Did she really want an answer that badly? Fine then. Have it your way.

"If I were to judge that question on your innate and wholeheartedly irrational idea of dragging me along to your workplace, forcefully employing me under a boss who is entirely aware that both of us are underage for this particular line of work, and making me walk you home during ungodly hours at night, then yes, you are a bit of a weirdo."

As expected, she didn't look too pleased with my choice of words. Thankfully, however, I had a backup plan.

"But, I can at least agree on the idea that what you're doing is for the benefit of others." I rubbed the back of my head, careful not to set off any emotional landmines around the girl. "Though I despise any sort of work, considering your particular circumstances, I think it's perfectly reasonable."

She'd stopped walking. Mentally, I reviewed my words, looking for any sort of phrase or double-meaning that might have set her off. I was sure that I had avoided any sort of conveyed message that invited confrontation. What I'd said was honest and straightforward, but sweetened just a little bit. For effect.

Putting those thoughts away, I glanced at the girl to my left. She was staring ahead, a somewhat blank and contemplative look on her face. Like she was lost in her own world. It was an expression I personally knew very well.

Kawasaki continued to stand quietly. She was like a statue— still and quiet. Unmoving, save for the soft, gentle flowing of her hair and wardrobe. I felt as if I stared too long, I myself would become mesmerized by her very existence. This was a feeling I hadn't felt before— and honestly, it was scaring me a little.

I don't understand a lot of things. There are still many things in this world I need to figure out. If I am ever to find something genuine, to ever reach happiness with myself— something I'm still not sure is possible for someone like myself— I needed to understand what made people who they were. Why they did things the way they did. Why the feelings and emotional baggage people came with existed at all.

As I stood there staring, I then realized that Kawasaki Saki was perhaps the newest enigma I had unwillingly stumbled upon.

"To hear that from you means a lot," Kawasaki broke me from my thoughts, turning towards me. Seeing her smile was a rarity— seeing it directed at me only enhanced the unusual nature of what was transpiring. My heartbeat began to quicken once again.

Why was I suddenly like this? I was a monster of logic. A being who denied any and all types of useless emotions. I was sure of my identity— I had buried those feelings of love, compassion and kinship within me back in middle school. I was certain I had.

Love was a lie. Love was something constructed by man as a coping mechanism. Love was for filthy love-on-the-brains, a demographic I was certainly not part of.

So why was she evoking these feelings out of me?

"It's nothing special," I eventual got around to replying to her. "I'm sure you've heard it before."

She turned her head to the sky, seemingly admiring the view. "Maybe I have."

Her words were soft, almost cautious. Like she were talking to a newborn infant. It was a rather noticeable difference from her usual tone of speaking.

She continued to speak. "But still, that doesn't change the impact those words have on me."

Then, in the tiniest of whispers, I managed to hear her say, "Especially if it's coming from you."

We stood quietly, our shoulders barely a few inches from each other, staring into the night sky together. I was quick to notice how much taller I was. She was by no means short, especially compared to other girls, but the difference between us was clear.

I eventually got around to talking to her. "Say, Kawasaki."

Her gaze was quickly fixated on me once she noticed my soft use of her name. "Hm?"

"Do you feel safe?" Saying the sentence out loud nearly made me visibly cringe. It was a really weird thing to ask a girl at two in the evening, but I felt it needed to be asked. For her sake, at least.

Kawasaki didn't reply immediately. She looked to be mulling on the words carefully. I waited with bated breath, unknowing as to why I was so tense. I didn't think I was all that desperate for an answer, but stranger things before had happened.

After what felt like an eternity, she turned to me. "Well, obviously. You're here now with me, aren't you?"

We looked at each other for a short while, taking in her words slowly. Before I could even begin to process what she might have meant, however, she quickly made to backtrack. "I mean—!" She cleared her voice with a cough. "Obviously, you being here is better than being by myself. You might not be all that strong, but you look the part, at least."

I breathed a small sigh of relief. After how weird she had been sounding most of the day, it was nice to see a familiar side of her. "Be grateful I even decided to agree to this stupid thing. You owe me big."

My classmate huffed defiantly. "As if. It's your job to do these kinds of tasks, isn't it? My safety should be your number one priority."

"Honestly, and hot shower and sleep is my number one priority right now."

"You wanna say that again?"

"Relax," I chided her. Even if she had been joking, the last thing I needed was to be on bad terms with the person I was supposed to be escorting. "As long as you're with me, I won't even think of anyone else. I'll keep you safe, promise."

"I..." Kawasaki started, before trailing off inaudibly. The cold weather looked to be getting to her, based on how red her cheeks were getting. She eventual did finish her sentence, in a surprising moment of humility. "... thank you."

In retrospect, what I had said was overly heroic and dramatic, but I felt accomplished regardless. It was nice to get some appreciation every now and again. It was decidedly better than getting ragged on constantly. "No problem."

The lines of tall buildings eventually drifted behind us, and we started to wind between the maze of suburban houses on our way to Kawasaki's home. I had a vague sense of where she lived, but not an exact address. I was content with letting her lead the way, trailing behind her as I had been doing for a majority of the night. We didn't look to be too far off now.

She spoke again, quietly this time. "Did you mean what you said?"

Caught slightly off-guard, I had to recall to what I said, with no avail. "About what?"

Her voice somehow became even quieter. It was a strain to even listen. "About... not thinking of anyone else?"

My lips pursed. That had been more for effect than anything else. Speaking in a literal sense, such a statement was impossible— being around her for as long as I had been during the evening, managing to think of only her during the entirety of that timeframe was a silly proposition. I'm sure she recognized that too.

Still, it was the sentiment that was expressed in that statement that mattered, more so than the literal meaning. I hadn't been lying about keeping her safe, and though I might have indicated otherwise, she was my number one priority. I would keep her safe, because it was my job. Nothing more, nothing less.

I nodded at her, a bit absentmindedly. "Yeah, I meant it."

I didn't receive any immediate response, though I did notice her fist clench and her breathing hitch. I was concerned, but not overly so— how she reacted to what I said was her business. It wasn't my place to intrude, and I left it at that.

After a lengthy silence, she spoke, when I had almost given up on expecting an answer. Her tone sounded normal, but there was something laced within her words that indicated more than she was letting on.

"That's... that's all I'm asking for."

We turned to another street, and I felt the growing suspicion that this wasn't going to be as mundane a request as I had been hoping for.

Well, this was refreshing to finish. Took awhile, but I like the result.

This will probably end up being a little mini-series of mine. I'm thinking around 3-4 chapters or so. Though, I'll probably make the chapters run long, just to keep the content fresh.

Again, it felt good to get this out. I adore this series, and I especially adore this pairing. Honestly, you can't go wrong with any of the main pairings in Oregairu, but this one just appeals to me the most. Personal preference, I guess.

If you could spare some generosity, I'd appreciate any Favs, Follows and Constructive Reviews! I always like getting feedback from readers. Serves as great motivation. I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I'm able, so do stay tuned for more!

Thanks for reading! Have a great day!

~Slalem

EDIT 03/02/2019: A few changes to the dialogue and a slight restructuring to the ending of the chapter.