And so, Hikigaya Hachiman finds his Answer.

For as much as things have changed in my day-to-day life, It's easy to forget that I am still tethered to my obligations as a member of the service club.

Depending on how you view that phrase, it can come off as either positive or negative. I more than often find myself categorizing it in the latter category. Club meetings are an hour of my life that I can't get back, and when one takes into consideration how many of these meetings I've gone to, it's plausible that I've lost a great deal of my time to sitting in a near empty classroom listening to people's problems for months on end. Decidedly inefficient, and hardly ever fun.

Know that I have attempted to find many creative outlets to pass the time in that room, if the workload allows. Naturally, I have a light novel on me to read at nearly all times. Yukinoshita can quietly and passive-aggressively seethe all she wants, but it will be a cold day in hell when I stop reading these things. There is also the option to sleep, but most of the time that plan is ruined by Yuigahama yelling at me or Yukinoshita glaring at me or a client asking for my opinion or sometimes all three. My last ditch-effort is always to act busy on my phone—there's always a gacha somewhere in my apps begging me to roll—but I try to avoid this option altogether, if possible. Being glued to my phone makes me feel too riajuu-ey. Yes, that is a word.

It's ironic, really. I'm the one least interested in the proceedings of the club, and yet a majority of the time I find myself doing most of the work. My methods, shameless as they may be, have often been heralded as the most effective. Add that to the tedious amounts of menial labor I've been forced into on account of a certain student council president, and one could say that I'm the true backbone of the service club.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. At the end of the day, I don't come to the club under some fantasy that I solve everyone's problems without a hitch and get rewarded in kind. Or that I'm the "backbone" of a club that just so happens to feature two admittedly very attractive young women. I come because Hiratsuka will beat the ever-loving hell out of me if I don't. That is the sole reason I continue to make the long stroll down to that near empty clubroom, Yuigahama in tow, to spend an hour with my novels, my thoughts, and some decent company.

That, and Yukinoshita Yukino makes really, really good tea.

I took another small sip from the cup she had given me barely five minutes ago, relishing in the heaven that was Yukinoshita's oolong brew. A bold choice, knowing her palette, but when the result was this, who was I to question it? A few sips in, and I was already starting to feel like a regal heir to one of the most notoriously wealthy families in Chiba. Is this from whence the Ice Queen draws her powers? Such potency was dangerous.

Naturally, I would never tell Yukinoshita that I rather enjoyed her tea. Feeding such an ego was suicide, and there was little doubt that she would hold my praise for her over my head for the rest of my high school tenure. You're not supposed to give an opponent the tools with which she will ensure your demise.

I could see it now. "My, Hachiman, you speak as though you can oppose me, but that certainly wasn't the case when you were floundering with idiotic joy like the fish you are after having barely a sip of my tea. Might that be the only way to control a simple yet perverse beast such as yourself?" The thought alone was torture. I'd be far more inclined to transfer schools than deal with that.

"Hikigaya," the Ice Queen herself spoke from her side of the table. "I would very much appreciate it if you kept your unsavory facial expressions to yourself. The thought may not register in that empty space you call a brain, but there are people in this room trying to enjoy some tea and literature. Your countenance is ruining that opportunity for everyone involved."

It seemed that my face had unknowingly scowled outwardly in response to the mental scenario with which I feared so deeply. It was just my luck that Yukinoshita had seen it. How was she always able to get the leg up on me?

I very well couldn't just sit there like and take her insult, unfortunately. As clubroom law dictated, every jab was to be retaliated against until either a clear winner was established, or until Yuigahama saw fit to end the verbal sparring. Yuigahama, in a rare stroke of intelligence, had thought to plug in her earphones and was quietly humming away while on her phone, meaning that there was to be no interference on her end. Just my luck.

I said the first thing that came up in my mind. "That would imply that you had been looking at me before my facial expression changed, which makes you a stalker. Which is hilarious, considering that you're normally rather quick to dole out the stalker label on me. Takes one to know one, I guess." It was half-assed, sure, but it was the best I could come up with given the circumstances. My Yukinoshita-insult collection was in dire need of replenishing.

"The mere thought of sharing any tendencies with you is revolting," to my surprise, my on-the-fly dig seemed to work better than I thought it would. "Furthermore, keeping tabs on your person as to ensure you don't commit any kind of heinous or deplorable act against the public is hardly stalking. I'd deem more along the lines of a necessity, perhaps even an act of praiseworthy service in an effort to preserve peace of mind amongst the community." She smirked. "I'd say I'm due for a medal any day now."

I'll admit, that wasn't half bad. It was better than her recycling the same tired quips and insults over and over again. With this she at least managed to put a new spin on a classic genre. The genre of Hikki-bullying, that is.

"Whatever," I replied, returning to my light novel. Another of the clubroom rules was that you could concede victory with a verbal admission, normally along the lines of a "whatever" or prolonged silence. This rule mostly applied to me, unfortunately, but it at least managed to implement a clear way out of these debates.

"That was fast," Yuigahama suddenly spoke, taking out her headphones. "I think we can all agree that Yukinoshita won. That makes the score... lemme see..." she began to tap rapidly on her phone. "... 57 to 3, in favor of Yukinon."

In a rare instance of agreeability, Yukinoshita and I both looked with bewilderment towards our third member. "You've been... keeping score?"

She shrugged, as if it were obvious. "What am I supposed to do while you two argue? Sit there and pretend like I know what's going on?"

That was... a very valid point, actually. What was more concerning, however, was... "... have I really only won three times?"

Yuigahama sent me a pitying look. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Out of sixty?"

"I don't make the rules. I just record the winner."

This felt too absurd to be real. "When was the last time I won?"

"Let's see..." Yuigahama scrolled down for a distressing amount of time, before eventually stopping. "Ah, there we go. Your last win was around 5 or so months ago. Oh, wait! I remember this one!" Her eyes shone with a fondness that I found disconcerting. "You two went back and forth for almost the entire time we were in the clubroom. It was pretty even, so I wanted to call it a draw, but I felt bad for you and called it in your favor!"

That somehow made me feel even worse. I was now caught between Yuigahama's reminiscing and Yukinoshita's growing mirth, the latter of whom was eager to make as much known to me.

"Goodness. I suppose I should start going much easier on you from now on," her previous smirk was only growing wider. "Though, I suppose that is to be expected when one considers the sizable gaps between our respective intelligences." She then turned to her other club mate. "Yuigahama, I must ask that you send that records document to me. You have provided me with an invaluable service today."

She was all too happy to give it away. "Sure thing, Yukinon!" A quick tapping of her screen later, and Yukinoshita was now in possession of perhaps the most humiliating record in existence. I was never going to hear the end of this.

I decided to divert their attention from my woeful debate performances. I had actually come to the club today in need of something. "My constant belittling aside, there's something I wanted to ask you two about."

My inquiry was successful, and two pairs of eyes were quickly trained on me. After all, it was rare that I, of all people, asked for anything. "Sure, what's up Hikki?"

"I will hear you out, but I hold no obligation to answer if your question is asinine, perverse, or both."

"Relax, I'm not asking what bra size you are," that earned a gasp from Yuigahama and an embarrassed squeak from Yukinoshita. "What do you two do in your free time?"

After she managed to dispel her flushing face, Yuigahama gave me a curious look. "That's weird. I never thought you would ask that, Hikki."

"Just answer the question, please."

She put a finger to her chin. "Hmm... well, sometimes when I'm bored I'll look up makeup tutorials. Or if I'm feeling like I want a light workout, I'll take Sable for a walk. I'm always up for shopping, too." She turned to the other female in the room. "What about you, Yukinon?"

"I enjoy reading, most notably." As to be expected of the indomitable Ice Queen. "I also like to experiment with different tea leaves. Outside of that, I suppose there isn't much else I really do consistently." Her face soured. "As you can imagine, it's hard to manage any free time away from my family."

This was all very enlightening, though I grimaced at the remembrance of the Yukinoshita family, but this wasn't yielding any of the answers I was looking for. "I guess I should have phrased the question better," I took a moment to think, before asking again. "Where do you two go for fun?"

Yuigahama was again first to answer. "Well, when I'm with friends I like to go to karaoke. That, or go grab a bite to eat somewhere. Maybe even a movie once or twice a month, depending on what's out."

This was working. Now I had a basis to go off of. "Yukinoshita?"

"I frequent the public library often when I have the chance." She paused momentarily. "I suppose I'm also similar to Yuigahama in visiting cafes and restaurants if time allows."

Good, now I could start building ideas off of these suggestions. This had gone much more smoothly than I had previously thought it would coming into this. "That's all. Thanks, you two."

It seemed Yukinoshita wasn't content with leaving the conversation as is, however. "Hikigaya, I'm curious as to why you would ask us such a question. I mean this with no offense, but you're hardly the most social being in the world."

You totally meant that in offense, and if I weren't already proud of who I was, then I would be tempted to retort back in kind. However, I currently have no desire or reason to do such a thing, so I instead made to answer her. "It's nothing serious. A friend of mine wants to hang out, so I was trying to think of some things we could potentially do together."

"A friend?" Yuigahama asked. I didn't like how surprised she sounded. "Who is it? Uh, if you don't mind me asking."

I figured it wouldn't hurt to tell them, if only to get them off of my back. Lying to them also felt wrong in general. "Kawasaki."

The room turned quiet after I answered, and the surprised faces on Yuigahama and Yukinoshita's respective faces grew. A soft hum of acknowledgement sounded from Yuigahama, meaning that she'd heard me clearly, but the two didn't seem to have anything to say in response. Not immediately, at least.

Yukinoshita eventually got around to replying. "Can I ask what the occasion is for?"

"No occasion," I clarified. "She just said that she wanted to hang out. I'm not doing anything on Sunday, so we're hanging out."

"She was able to get you out of your house on the weekend..." Yuigahama whispered. "What sorcery is this...?"

"As worried as I am for the poor girl, being stuck in your vicinity, I suppose that this is a sign that her request is at the very least going well," Yukinoshita brought her teacup back to her lips before continuing. "A request you still haven't updated me on, by the way."

I shrugged. "Nothing to report, really. No crime, no creepers, nothing of real importance to tell you about. She'd probably be fine going by herself at this point."

"But it's to my understanding that she requested your services for an extended period of time, correct?"

"Unfortunately," I grumbled. For as much as I had gotten to know Kawasaki, and as decent as I was at my job, my sleep schedule was still in terrible shape. Saturdays were basically permanent recovery days for me now.

"Very well. I suppose that there isn't anything inherently wrong with the two of fraternizing with each other outside the scope of the original request," that regal air and her vocabulary made it sound like I was seeking permission from some kind of queen. Which didn't feel too far off from reality. "So long as you behave yourself and don't bring shame or negative attention onto the club, I won't meddle."

I narrowed my eyes. "You planned on meddling?"

"Not directly. I would have simply had some... associates of mine monitor you. But that is unnecessary now." God, she's scary.

Honestly, this wasn't going at all like I figured it would. I thought it would be at least a little bit awkward after bringing this up, but the two seemed to be taking this in stride. At least outwardly. Things had been a bit weird between the three of us after my little outburst, but we'd taken steps to improve our relationships with each other, and we were sort of back to the way things were before. Only now we were connected in a way that was deeper than just the service club.

I didn't know how they'd react to another girl entering this odd dynamic between the three of us. It had always been a possibility, sure—a very minor one, but a possibility all the same—but never did I think that such a possibility would actually come to exist. Kawasaki was now firmly entrenched within my life, for better or worse. Seeing how my clubmates would respond to such a development was not something I had been very eager to watch unfold, but for now, things seemed rather tame. For now anyways.

Yuigahama hadn't spoken much, actually, though as soon as the thought entered my head the girl in question made an effort to fix that. "So that's why you were asking for date ideas..." her voice softened. "It... is a date, right?"

It could be seen as that. I wouldn't be surprised if that was what Kawasaki was labeling it as. "Yeah, I guess."

"You guess?" Yuigahama raised an eyebrow. "Do you really not know?"

Was I supposed to? "Not really."

The girl blinked, before composing herself with a quick breath. "Okay, let me get all the facts first. The two of you are hanging out, right?"

"Yeah."

"On Sunday night, I'm guessing?"

"Probably."

"Just the two of you?"

"That's right."

"And you're asking us, your fellow club members, for advice on things to do with this girl you're hanging out with, just the two of you?"

"Mhm."

"And you think it's platonic?"

I cleared my throat, fighting the heat rising to my face. "Well, when you put it like that..."

Yuigahama, of all things, deadpanned at me. "You're really dense, Hikki."

"Truly, his idiocy knows no bounds," Yukinoshita quipped from across the table, sighing. "I feel for Kawasaki-san."

I thought I conceded already? Weren't the jabs and insults supposed to stop after that? This was a rather blatant disregarding of the rules. "I take back everything nice I've said about you two today."

"You probably don't know the first thing about date etiquette, huh?" Yuigahama shook her head as she spoke. "Komachi-chan's smart, but there are probably things that even she doesn't know..." She turned back to me, a small fire lit in her eyes. "Then I've got no choice but to help!"

"Help?" I didn't like at all where this was going. "Help with what?"

"While I suppose I'm not as knowledgeable on modern romance as Yuigahama-san is, there are certain things I know for a fact you require assistance with," Yukinoshita eyed me as though she were dissecting a scientific specimen. "You likely are still unaware of how to properly address and converse with a lady. It will take time to groom a barbarian, but it is my calling in life to help the uneducated."

"Hold on a moment," I quickly intervened. This was getting out of hand. "I know I'm not the king of romance, but even I know how to conduct myself in public outings."

"No you don't," the two quickly retorted in unison. I ignored them and made to press on.

"The point is, I don't need you two filling my head with nonsense and making me overthink this whole thing. It's supposed to be a casual get-together, not a marriage interview." I offhandedly thought that Kawasaki would very much hate the idea of being sold off for marriage. "Please, I don't need your meddling involved."

"It's not meddling!" Yuigahama denied. "You probably do need our help! Here, I'll test you!" Yuigahama placed a finger on her chin in thought, before addressing me again after thinking of something. "Here's a question! What do you wear on a first date?"

Really? This was easy. "It doesn't matter, as long as you smell good."

Yuigahama paused. "That... what?"

"Girls prioritize smell over appearance," I began. "One of the biggest turn-offs for young women with regards to men is not how they look, it's how they smell. You can dress in designer clothing and appear flawless in every sense of the word, but if you smell bad, then it's pointless. However," I elaborated. "You can look dirt poor, but if you smell nice, you will almost always have a chance of impressing a date. Granted, it takes more than smell to impress a woman, and smell in and of itself is far from objective, but smelling nice has a far greater impact than looking nice."

Even Yukinoshita looked floored by my perfect explanation. Truly, I was too good for this club.

Yuigahama spoke again after a brief lull of silence. "I mean... I guess you're, like, half right? Maybe?" My classmate then changed her line of thought. "No, what am I saying? Hikki, you're way wrong! Yeah, it's good for guys to smell nice, but you need to look good too! If you smelt good but came to a date in like, a clown outfit or something, then that'd be horrible!"

"Well I obviously wouldn't attend a date in a clown costume," I clarified. How was this so hard to understand? "I already said that it takes more than smell to impress a woman—"

"Hikki, just be quiet for a moment," Yuigahama interrupted, and I begrudgingly complied. "Look, I get that you like to look at things from different angles, but you're doing this wrong! I'm sure Kawasaki-chan is looking forward to a fun date, and I'm worried you might ruin it with your ideas of what women like!"

"She's absolutely correct," Yukinoshita added. "Hikigaya-kun, there is no shame in admitting that you are not well-versed in the world of dating. We are all initially unaware and clueless when we start anything for the first time." Despite her words, she sounded as though she was coming from a place of truth and a desire to help. "That is why we want to help you. So that you can learn how to go about this without making a fool out of yourself accidentally."

That still sounded like she was making fun of me, but I understood and appreciated the sentiment. Still though... "Why?"

Yuigahama shot me a puzzled glance. "Why what?"

"Why help me?" I'm not an idiot. I know that things are... different in this club now compared to when we first started. We all used to be acquaintances, meandering in this clubroom of ours while helping the students of this school with their bizarre and strange requests. I don't really know how, or when, things might have changed, only that things did change within this club of ours at some point.

Emotions ran deep between the three of us. Emotions that could get us hurt. Emotions that were probably hurting some of us in this very moment. Still... my club mates had put that aside for now, for my sake. To help me have a good time with some girl they hardly knew outside of a few requests. They had every right to be angry, or upset, or anything else, but to help me? I didn't understand. And I desperately wanted to.

Naturally, as she had been doing for a majority of club time, Yuigahama pushed past the question and answered near instantly. "Isn't it obvious? Because we're friends, silly."

I paused to think. What exactly did that word imply? So many different meanings and connotations attached to that one seemingly simple word. It was so overwhelming, so baffling, it hardly made sense.

Still, what use was it to question it? Could I even question it, without ruining everything the three of us had painstakingly built since we all first joined the club? Did I dare take that risk for the sake of closure?

I turned to Yukinoshita. "Are we... friends?" I had asked the question before, multiple times even, but this instance was decidedly different.

Yukinoshita Yukino, from across the room, sat in that familiar throne of hers, quietly finishing the remainder of her oolong. How queenly she looked in that moment, and truth be told, I thought she looked beautiful. She was always beautiful—it was what landed her in so much trouble throughout her young life, after all—but this felt like a different kind of admiration from what I thought I usually felt. It was picturesque, but at the same time tragic. In another life, or another timeline, or whatever alternate universe theory people these days liked to believe in, perhaps I was the one to make that beauty shine in a happier light.

She placed her teacup down, and smiled at me. "Well, I suppose I don't have a choice now, do I?"

I sighed, and allowed myself to smile back. "Thanks."

I don't really remember the rest of the club that day. Information about this and that regarding clothes and speech and women filled my brain for an indiscernible amount of time, though I somehow managed to remember it all. It was, in all honesty, among the most normal club events I felt like we'd had in awhile. Which I felt was a good thing. The three of us could have certainly used a mundane outing between friends.

For, after all this time, it was good friends we had become, and good friends we would remain.

I'm rather used to night life in Chiba, and once you get used to inner city night life, I feel as though you can take most anything on in public. Which is ironic, coming from an esteemed loner like myself who vehemently detests the outdoors, but that is simply how I've come to be. How these strange proceedings in my recent life have changed me.

Still, that didn't stop the nerves from creeping up on me as I waited outside of Kawasaki's home. I've been here numerous times before—inside, even—but this time felt different. This actually followed along the dreaded rom-com cliches I so very despised. Anxiously waiting outside of a girl's house, only for her to appear in a dazzling outfit, looking as beautiful as the stars themselves, leaving you to gape stupidly at the pretty girl you're to take out for an enjoyable evening as the heavens part and everything turns into sunshine and rainbows while some sappy 90's love song plays in the background.

Naturally, such a cliche wouldn't occur tonight (at least I hoped not), but that didn't stop me from worrying. Not just about her, but about everything. I'd spent hours trying to think of what to wear, where to go, how to talk to her, all while freshening up. What if she thought I looked dumb? What if she didn't enjoy where I took her? What if tonight ended up being a total disaster?

Even if none of that came to pass, what if the evening went well? What if tonight's excursion went absolutely perfect, without a single thing going wrong? What if she had the night of her life, and we only became more infatuated with each other as a result? Where would we go from there? What would I do?

Obviously, I wanted this to go well, but the repercussions of what might happen in the future if it did go well unnerved me. I'd have no excuse at that point if I genuinely enjoyed an outing with her that was meant to be romantic. I would have officially succumbed to the very thing I fought so desperately against.

The thought was both scary and enticing. Kawasaki Saki loved me. But what did I feel for her? How deep did my own affection for her run? I cared about her, obviously, but how much of that was rooted in concern for her safety, as opposed to a desire for something more?

So many questions, yet I didn't have the time to dwell on them now. I had a date to go on, after all. Regardless of my own inner turmoil, I was determined to show Kawasaki a good time, even if it killed me. Which, knowing my luck, was a strong possibility.

I heard the sound of the door opening, and I nearly flinched. This was it. No turning back now. Regardless of how stunning she looked, I had to compose myself and act the part of the respectful gentleman no matter what. I fixed my slouch, took a deep breath, and turned to look at my companion for the evening.

I was met not by a beautiful young lady, but a tall, lanky man in a messy button down, slacks, and blue bunny slippers. Taking a sip of the tea in his hand, he glanced at me from the front door. "Oh, you're early."

My mind was in hyperdrive. The same pale, azure hair, cropped much shorter to the scalp. The same purple-ish eyes, though they were partially obscured behind a pair of glasses. The same set, indifferent curve of the mouth that betrayed no emotion.

It seemed that I was, for the first time, meeting Mr. Kawasaki.

"Come on in," the man spoke in a level tone. "Saki's still getting ready. You can wait inside."

I almost had to pinch myself in an effort to respond normally. "Uh, sure. Thanks." Without another word, I followed the man inside his home, marking my second visit inside the Kawasaki abode. Following the man to the living room, I took the solo recliner to the right of the sectional, while he took the recliner on the left directly opposite of me. He'd apparently been watching the news before coming to get me, and he trained his eyes back on the television while taking another sip of his beverage.

I sat there nervously, desperately trying to steady the rhythm of my heart. As if I didn't have enough to worry about tonight, I had totally forgotten that there was a good chance that I would be meeting her parents at some point or another. It made sense—today was a Sunday, so if he was an office dweller type, it was only natural that today would be his day off.

Utilizing one of my Loner Skills, I shot a discrete glance at the man opposite of me. While he wasn't a very physically imposing figure, the air around him seemed to almost command respect. Again, this made sense. In a house with multiple children, you needed to have an authoritative presence in order to get them all to fall in line.

It was odd to me. I feel like, at least physically, the two of us shared a similar body type, but we seemed to carry ourselves in an entirely different way. I guess that was the vast difference that existed between being nervous and being confident.

"So," Kawasaki's father spoke, and I immediately focused on his words. "You're, uh... Hayasaka Hachiman, right?"

"Um... Hikigaya Hachiman," I made to correct as respectfully as possible.

"Right. Sorry," the man apologized, allowing a sheepish grin that both surprised and unnerved me. "I'm not at my sharpest on my off days."

"It's fine," I quickly dismissed. I figured he had a lot more to worry about than remembering some random kid's name.

"I'm sure you already guessed, but I'm Saki's dad." Leaning over with a slight heave, he extended a hand for me to shake. "Shinji Kawasaki. A pleasure to meet you, Hachiman."

I prayed to whatever holy figure that bothered to listen that my hand wasn't clammy. I gave the man the best handshake I could muster, flashing a small smile of my own in an attempt to mask the ungodly levels of nerves that were permeating within every fiber of my being. "Likewise."

The man continued after introductions were exchanged. "Sorry, but you won't be meeting Saki's mother tonight. She's still out working, but she sends her regards." That was probably a good thing. I doubted I would have been able to deal with both parents at once. "Speaking of work, you're that classmate of hers that also works at the bar with her, yeah?"

He knew that she worked at the Angel Ladder? Underage? "You knew about that?"

"I'm actually the one who referred her," Mr. Kawasaki sank back into his chair. "Oshino's a high school friend of mine. I called in a favor, and he got Saki hired. Though, she was the one who really pushed for the job." He sighed softly. "I get it, though. I did the same thing when I was her age."

Huh. Who would have thought? I guess working jobs that were technically illegal was an inherited trait. Not that I particularly minded—I might not have held employment in high regards, but even I could respect the hustle. "She's very good at her job... uh, sir."

"No need to sir me. Mr. Shinji's fine," the man waved off with a tiny smile, and I felt my stress alleviate just a little. "And yeah, I figured she would be. When that girl commits herself to something, she tends to do it all the way. Gets that from her mother."

No need to tell me twice. I had experienced that tenacity firsthand. She was always committed, whether it was related to her job, her siblings... or to me. That was just the kind of girl Kawasaki was.

"Also," Mr. Kawasaki continued. "I know I'm late in saying this, but thanks for your help."

I blinked. "With what?"

"That night with the college hooligans," I frowned in remembrance, but my reaction was quickly forgotten when I felt the room's temperature drop. A quick look at Mr. Kawasaki nearly froze me over. "Had you not have intervened, those boys would have found themselves in... unfortunate circumstances."

I gulped. Add "obsessed with family members" to the list of inherited traits. I made a quick mental note not to get on Mr. Kawasaki's bad side.

His displeasure left as quickly as it came, however, his normal, calm countenance returning. "But again, thank you. What you did for my daughter was very brave." Then, of all things, a playful smirk. "I can see why she talks about you so much, Mr. Hikigaya."

Keika had mentioned that too, during my last visit. Did she really think about me that much? "I was just doing what anyone would have done."

"I suppose that's true," the older man conceded, running a hand through his hair. "Still, Saki looks a lot happier these days. I'll catch her smiling, or laughing, or even singing sometimes when she thinks she's alone." A forlorn smile appeared on his face as his gaze lingered on the television screen. "Middle school was tough for her. She didn't have many friends, and she didn't really know what to do with herself. She's really come into her own since going to high school," he then turned to me. "And I think I have you to partially thank for that."

That was something I felt I could somewhat agree with. My existence aside, Kawasaki really had come into her own. In the short time that I had known her, she'd gone from isolated and standoffish to mature and devoted. She'd even made some good friends along the way, while finding that good balance between work and education. She looked like she would have this adult thing down in no time.

Though, I was hesitant in attributing that to me. Kawasaki was already plenty smart and dedicated—she just didn't know how to apply herself. She was always so worried about her siblings and money that she never really had the time to take a step back and relax. She would probably tell me that I was the one who helped her realize that she needed to enjoy herself and live a little, and I'd be the first to deny such a claim. I think she would have made the realization herself, knowing her.

Then again, she'd probably just say that I was being a cynical weirdo again and that I should have just accepted the compliment. She could be as blunt as she was driven sometimes.

"I wouldn't give myself that much credit," I eventually responded. "Kawasa—er, Saki is already plenty smart. I think she would have improved herself without me."

"Maybe, but I personally don't think so." The man turned his attention away from the TV and trained his eyes on me. "I think it's because she was so alone that she needed someone to reach out and help her. You were that somebody, and I don't think that's a mere coincidence." His eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Saki's smart, but also a little stubborn. It would take one hell of a guy to get her to open up and admit her faults. No ordinary boy could do that."

I was tempted to reply, but I hesitated. Taking my silence as defeat, the man reclined in his chair as he returned to his tea, before speaking again. "But, that's just my two cents. This old man's word isn't law, so it's up to you to make what you will of what I say." Placing his tea down, he returned his attention to the TV. "That's enough about Saki. Tell me about yourself, Mr. Hikigaya."

Oh boy. This was what I had been dreading. Trying to make myself sound interesting in front of the father of the very attractive young woman I was taking out tonight. Would my luck hold out? "Um... I'm in a service club at school."

"Extracurriculars. Very nice," the man nodded absently, before continuing. "Tell me, were you the one who had Saki and Keika watch JoJo?"

I froze. How the hell did he know about that? "I-I... uh, well—"

"If you were, I'm quite pleased," the man shot a knowing look at me. "It would seem you have excellent taste, Mr. Hikigaya. If you're ever inclined, I'd be happy to show you my collector's edition of the first volume."

I nearly gasped. Mr. Kawasaki was in possession in such a relic? Such an invaluable artifact of modern history? This mysterious man... could he possibly have been one of my people?

Before I had the chance to ask any further, however, I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Lost in the sudden revelation concerning my potential otaku brethren, I momentarily forgot about the company I was to be sharing tonight, and was thus at an immediate loss of words when I saw the girl with whom I would be spending the evening with.

Kawasaki Saki was every bit as stunning as I feared she would be. I had never seen her in the outfit she was currently wearing, and my eyes couldn't help but stare—a simple beige sweater paired with a black knee-high skirt, to go along with black tights and similarly colored ankle-high boots. A small silver necklace rested around her neck, traversing her barely exposed collarbone. Her hair was done up in that familiar ponytail I knew her so well for, though it looked glossier and straighter than it normally did.

I had to physically take a controlled breath as I watched her descend the stairs. Goodness, just one look at her and I had already been reduced to a blubbering mess. Would I ever get used to this girl and her feminine charm?

"Hey dad," she began, unaware of my presence as she fumbled with something inside of the pink handbag strapped around her shoulder. "The little ones are asleep, and Taishi's doing homework. There's some leftover spaghetti in the fridge if you—" she looked up and immediately froze upon seeing me. "H-Hachiman!"

I waved nonchalantly from my spot on the recliner. "Hey." At least I could say that much without my mind overheating.

"I let Hachiman wait inside while you were getting ready. Had a nice, friendly talk," he smiled at his daughter. "Oh, you look fantastic, dear. Are those the new clothes your friend helped you pick out?"

"Dad," Kawasaki shot a glare at her father, who only laughed softly in response. She then turned to me. "Sorry about him. He's a bit of a geezer, but he's nice. I trust he didn't make you uncomfortable?"

I certainly had felt uncomfortable, though it was hardly her dad's fault. It was mostly my own anxious mind thinking of doomsday scenarios in my head. "No, we just talked for a bit."

"Good," the girl sighed. Standing beside me as I got up from my seat, she smiled at me. "You look nice."

I really didn't. Despite all the time I had devoted to getting ready, I had settled on the most basic date clothes I had in my wardrobe. A white casual button-down, jeans, and dress shoes, with a little cologne to ensure she couldn't smell my fear. Komachi had insisted that I looked good, but I wasn't buying it. I had only learned of proper dating attire barely more than a few hours ago.

Though, I could have worn all designer clothing and still have paled in comparison to how Kawasaki looked. It was such a simple look, but she looked absolutely gorgeous. She was closer now, so I could see the trace amounts of makeup she'd applied—bare amounts of blush and eyeliner, with a small little touch of what looked to be lip gloss. This was the second time I had seen her wear makeup for any occasion outside of work. She'd done so once before for the cultural festival, I recalled, but I hadn't been as keen on noticing before.

And those damn eyes. If I weren't such an experienced loner, I'd probably be thinking up lines of poetry about them. Something about how they shone like heavenly amethysts, and how I could lose myself in them for all eternity, or something along those lines. She may have been pretty, but I wasn't that far gone. Not yet, at least.

"Thanks," I forcefully jarred myself from my musings. "You look... great."

No blushing this time, but her smile widened. "Thank you."

I snapped my attention away from her, and took a glance at the door. "Should we get going?" An affirmative nod answered, and she led the way to the door. Mr. Kawasaki called out to us from his seat as we made to leave.

"You two have fun out there," he directed his attention to me. "I'm not gonna give you the over-protective dad speech, since I'm sure you're a responsible young man. Just be back before ten, and make sure she has a good time, alright?"

I nodded, before attempting to summon my most confident smile. "Will do, Mr. Shinji."

The man reciprocated my smile with one of his own, before turning back to the television. "Be safe, you two." I followed Kawasaki out of her home and onto the street, taking the lead as I began the most stressful night of my entire young life.

"Huh," Kawasaki glanced up at the big neon sign shining in front of us. "Never really took you for a meat guy, to be honest."

I shrugged. "It's more of a guilty pleasure than anything. I really only eat it during special occasions."

She quirked an eyebrow at me, a smirk growing. "So you admit this is a special occasion then?"

Was there any point in denying it? "Well... yeah."

Triumphant, my date held her head high as she let her gaze linger on me. "I love it when you're agreeable." She turned in the direction of the entrance. "Lead the way."

A great deal of my preparation time had gone towards thinking of where to take Kawasaki. While I had consulted my clubmates on potential sites to take her, I was extremely limited in options. I had immediately ruled most of Yukinoshita's suggestions out—I was rather certain Kawasaki wouldn't be thrilled with going to a library on a Sunday evening. That left Yuigahama's options, and after careful consideration, I figured that a nice restaurant would be my safest bet.

The yakiniku place I had taken her to was a place I was vaguely familiar with. I'd come here a few times before for some family birthdays, one of them being my own. It was clean and quiet, and while I'm sure it wouldn't blow Kawasaki's expectations out of the water, it was still a nice venue.

The reason for yakiniku specifically was a strategic choice on my part. Given the nature of yakiniku restaurants, any blame levied upon the food could be instead placed upon yourself. You choose your own meat, and grill it to whatever texture you fancy. So as long as the service wasn't atrocious, it was a surefire way of not being mocked for choosing a poor establishment. Not that I thought Kawasaki would mock me to begin with, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

The second reason was my own theory. As gorgeous and feminine as Kawasaki was, she was still very practical and hands-on. Given that she was a cook, and a good one at that, I figured she knew her way around grilling meat. If such was the case, as I was hoping it would be, then she would be in her element in a yakiniku restaurant. I thought it a bit sleazy that I was making her cook her own food on a date, but after working in such a stuffy and formal establishment for as long as she did, I figured that she would appreciate the freedom of choice she would have. Hopefully.

We were quickly seated in a small booth upon entering, and promptly handed menus and complimentary waters. Taking a brief look over the menu, I was relieved to find that there hadn't been any drastic changes to the food options since my last visit. So far, so good.

"I haven't been to a yakiniku place in forever," Kawasaki commented as she perused the menu. That earned my immediate attention, and my worry. "Do... you not like it?"

The girl immediately made to clarify. "No! I think this is great! I just haven't had the time to go to one in a while, what with the job and keeping an eye on the kids and all."

Ah, that made sense. I felt foolish for worrying. "Oh. Well, I hope you like it. I've come here a few times before, and while I don't know the place inside and out I still think it's nice."

She smiled. "I'll take your word for it."

A calming silence fell over us as we continued to look over our options, and I was keen on subtly gleaming what Kawasaki might have been favoring. Listening closely, I heard her quietly whisper "Ooh, duck meat," to herself. She seemed to be struggling with what to get, so I took the plunge and made the decision for her.

"Do you want to get all-you-can-eat for an hour?"

Kawasaki's eyes shot up as soon as I finished. "Hachiman, stop. You don't have to do that."

"What's the harm?" I shrugged. "If you wanna try multiple things, I don't mind."

"I'll decide on something," my classmate countered. "You don't need to try and impress me by spending on me. Seriously."

"This is a date, isn't it?" I continued to push. "And your father said so himself. I'm supposed to show you a good time. I'm not gonna cheap out on this, Kawasaki."

Money certainly wouldn't be an issue for tonight, that much I had guaranteed. For as much as I bemoaned my job, it paid more than well. I probably could have afforded an all-you-can-eat for six hours, if I was ever so bold and financially irresponsible. This was nothing, and I was determined to convey as much to my date.

"But... Hachiman," her voice lowered, as to not imply she was angry with me. As always, she was acutely considerate. "I don't want you thinking that you have to play the big shot to wow me. Seriously, I'm happy enough you were even willing to come out with me tonight."

"That's the thing, though. It shouldn't be just enough that I came out tonight." I may have been a loner of the highest esteem, but even I knew how disrespectful it would have been to waste Kawasaki's time by half-assing tonight. It was why I had put so much effort and research into this in the first place. "After all you did for my sake, how horrible would it have been for me to treat tonight like an errand instead of an actual date? How unfair would that have been to you?"

"And I know you're not that kind of guy," smiling, Kawasaki reached out from across the table and grabbed my hand. It was effective in getting me to shut up for a bit as she continued. "I just don't want you overthinking this whole thing and making yourself nervous. It's just me, Hachiman. I know that you wouldn't do anything to offend me."

But tonight, it wasn't just her. She had put in the effort to look her best expecting a great night, and I was intent on delivering as much to her. Such was what I had resolved myself to do.

I had done some pondering after my stay over at her house. That she was so devoted to me despite my blundering and near constant idiocy was something I had been, for the most part, taking for granted. Anyone else might have stopped bothering with me entirely after all I had done, yet she had stayed true to me throughout our many dramas and incidents. We had somewhat unknowingly become inseparable during the duration of her request, and what that had led to was our current tentative "relationship", as vague and ambiguous as it was.

These feelings of mine that so eagerly persisted within my consciousness had been eating at me since the festival, and perhaps even longer. I had been so resolved in fighting these strange new emotions for the sake of my pride and my status as a loner that I had forgone thinking what might have happened had I just accepted them. But again, I thought I would be failing in my duty as a loner—my duty to read between the lines, see beyond what was visible. As I had been doing for years at this point.

Even as Kawasaki beckoned me to remove these personal shackles of mine, I couldn't help myself. For some time, I sat and thought, delving deeper and deeper into what I thought I could find in the meaning behind Kawasaki's feelings for me. I thought that there might have been something indicating a level of falseness, something that raised a red flag and revealed the true nature of her affection. Something that would have otherwise contradicted the apparent love she held for me.

But as I thought and thought, I could find nothing. I was at a complete and total loss. As had been the case since this dance between us had started, my skills as a loner had been rendered ineffective. Everything I thought of with regards to her intentions was soundly countered by that one lingering spark of hope that had been reignited in me some time ago—'What if she just genuinely loves you?' How nice it would have been to just accept her feelings for me and leave it at that, but I was not designed in such a way. I was naturally curious, naturally inclined to investigate further beyond what I saw and heard. It was what had led to my referral to the service club in the first place.

I had to find the truth for myself. To try and get to the bottom of this mystery between us, no matter what. If only for my selfish pursuit of knowledge and my desire for full disclosure between the two of us, who had become so reliant on each other in so many different ways.

And so, I had reached out to her around a week ago asking if she had wanted to hang out. I had been walking her home when I floated the suggestion to her, and she had naturally agreed wholeheartedly. It sickened me to involve her in my crazed delusions, but it was deemed a necessary evil. Kawasaki Saki had roped me into this to begin with, and I was determined to see this through to the end with her.

Even after all this time, I still obsessively craved the affirmation from others that had defined me in my youth. Pushing that onto Kawasaki was among my biggest regrets.

Which was why I was so intent on making up for this sleazy, selfish wish of mine by showing the beautiful girl across from me a genuinely good time. She certainly deserved as much. If a measly all-you-can-eat at a yakiniku restaurant was what would bring her happiness tonight, then I would pay without question.

"Hachiman, look at me." The girl's grip on my hand tightened slightly, and I was subsequently drawn from my thoughts. "I have no idea what's going on in that head of yours, but I don't want you worrying tonight. I want you to have fun, and to enjoy this every bit as much as I am."

"I..." I hesitated. "I'll try."

Kawasaki ran a soothing thumb over my hand. I noticed that I hadn't made any move to retract my hand. "That's all I'm asking for." Her smile grew. "Well, that, and for you to call me pretty."

Any prior reservations I had with commenting on her appearance was long gone by now. It wasn't as though it were a lie to call her as such, anyway. "You look pretty."

The girl didn't seem to be expecting me to grant her request immediately, but her surprised expression quickly morphed back into a smile. "Would it be too much to ask for you to tack on an 'I love you' to the end of that?"

It was my turn to smirk. "Don't push your luck."

My classmate laughed airily. I quite liked the sound. "Worth a shot."

I put in the order for the all-you-can-eat once our waiter returned, and not long after did we receive our dinner for the night—thick, raw cuts of beef, chicken, pork, and per Kawasaki's request, duck. I'd never been so brave as to try duck meat before, though Kawasaki insisted it was good. Grilling a slice for me, she offered me a piece, and I was delighted to learn that she was right.

Conversation came surprisingly easily once our food was served. I was a tad wary of this particular aspect of the date, despite having known Kawasaki for as long as I had, and had prepared a series of topics to potentially delve into beforehand. It seemed that I wouldn't be needing them, however.

"I'm just saying," I raised my hands defensively as I spoke, careful not to drop my grilled cut of beef. "It's way easier being a server than a bartender. All you have to do is take orders and know the menu. I'm the one having to make the drinks. If you think about it, I'm the main attraction of the entire establishment."

"You forgot to add look pretty to my apparently short list of duties," Kawasaki rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm not saying that what you do is easy, but think about what I'm doing for a second. I seat the guests. I take the order. I deal with their dumb pick-up lines. I run to the bar. I get the drink. I run back. Keep in mind I'm smiling and standing straight the whole time," my coworker kept listing. "Now imagine doing that for hours. Those wage increases are well deserved."

"What do I need to do to get a salary like yours?" I sighed, munching on another cut of beef mixed with rice. It wasn't fair! I busted my balls night in and night out, and what did I have to show for it? Barely over 1,000 yen an hour, with virtually no tips! Didn't these people know that my labor wasn't cheap?

"You could start by looking pretty," Kawasaki suggested with a wry smile. "Though, don't expect any makeup tutorials from me. I don't give those out for free, you know."

"You're telling me the customers aren't coming to the bar just to stare at my exceedingly handsome face?" Attempting my best shocked expression, I placed a hand to my forehead melodramatically. "Please, Kawasaki, divulge the secrets of your beauty to me, so that I may ascend to the land of viable nighttime salaries."

My coworker placed a finger to her chin in exaggerated thought. "You could get yourself some boobs. This is just a rumor, so don't quote me on this, but I heard the woman who used to bartend before you got up to a thirty-five percent wage increase just by undoing a single button on the uniform."

I leaned in, trying to make sure I had heard her correctly. "Thirty-five percent?"

Kawasaki nodded, deathly serious. "Thirty-five percent. She was the main attraction, apparently."

Now I was curious. "Have you ever tried something like that?"

"Hell no," the girl immediately shot down the idea, her face wrinkling in distaste. "I get harassed enough as it is. I don't want these idiots to start saying that I'm asking for it or whatever."

A fair point. Still, thirty-five percent in tips... "What happened to the old bartender? Did she quit?"

"Yeah, but it was on good terms," Kawasaki shrugged. "She got married and had a kid. Wanted to transition into a full-time housewife."

Such was the dream for many, including myself. Lazing about all day, your only worries being what you were making for dinner and watching over your children... ah, what I wouldn't give for an easygoing life like that.

Kawasaki had apparently noticed the dopey look on my face and made to comment. "I take it that's the kind of transition you eventually want to make?"

"Haven't I already told you this?" I could have sworn that I had mentioned my future aspiration to her on some occasion. "Is there anything wrong with that?"

"Not really," Kawasaki shrugged, indifferent. "Honestly, it's a nice little swap of gender stereotypes. There aren't a lot of guys willing to take that role on, I think."

Maybe that was true. I didn't know the specifics of how many modern men were taking on the househusband role in the current era. "You're one to talk about gender stereotypes. You work harder than most guys I know."

My date snorted. "That would have meant a lot if there actually were any other guys you knew."

A tiny smile reached my face. She really had my personality down pat. "Guilty as charged."

Kawasaki leaned back, inattentively chewing on the last cut of duck. "If you think about it, we're kind of..." she hesitated, before shaking her head. "Ah, never mind."

"Kind of what?"

"It's nothing," the azure-haired girl waved off. "Just thinking to myself."

"No need to hold back," I assured her. I doubt there was much she could say that could fluster me now. "I'm willing to hear you out."

"It's just... well, we kinda complement each other, don't we?" She started fiddling with the loose end of her ponytail. "I mean, given that we're coworkers that's kind of expected, but when you think about it, we do work really well together, don't we?"

I was hinting subtle traces of a romantic undertone, but Kawasaki was right in a sense. Even beyond our jobs, the two of us added to each other's strengths and covered for each other's weaknesses. She was spirited, strong, and determined, whereas I was calculating, grounded, and realistic. When she got too ahead of herself or too absorbed in her own emotions, I was there to talk her down and help her relax; inversely, when I got too wrapped up in my thoughts or started to doubt myself, she was there to help reset my focus and help me push forward. In RPG terms, she was the strong, fearless swordsman on the front lines, while I was the stoic mage distanced some ways away providing her support from afar. In other words, a strong fit for each other.

"That's a fair assessment," I answered. I remembered a time before her request where I even thought about the possibility of a future in which Kawasaki was the breadwinner for our theoretical family, and where I was the devoted househusband who catered to her domestic needs. It was a bit embarrassing to reflect on now, but I didn't find myself hating the idea as much as I thought I would.

I got the bill a while later, and while the cost of tonight was indeed hefty, so too was the feeling of satisfaction I felt in coming here tonight. Kawasaki had suggested splitting the bill, but I quickly dismissed the notion. My family, Komachi and the cat included, would probably kick my ass if they learned that I had Kawasaki pay for a portion of the dinner. The service club would too, now that I thought about it. With food settled comfortably in our stomachs, and plenty of time for me to get my date back to her home in time, we made to walk back to the Kawasaki abode.

Our conversation was light and easy as we walked in tandem with each other, until Kawasaki said something that caught me off guard. "Man, you sure have changed, huh?"

I shot a questionable look at the girl. "I've changed?"

"In a good way, of course," she quickly corrected. "I mean, half a year ago I never would have thought that you of all people would invite me out for a date. On your treasured weekend, no less."

That familiar bit of guilt from before crept back a little, but I quickly pushed it aside and made to counter. "I could say the same for you."

"Yeah? How so?" I could see the faint bits of a smile creep onto her visage. Regardless, I indulged her request.

"You used to be a lot more standoffish. You were committed, certainly, but you were pretty hard to approach. You also weren't..." I gave her outfit another quick once-over. "Well, you also weren't all that feminine a few months ago."

"I'd have punched you if I already didn't agree with you." Yeah, make no mistake, that rebellious fire within her was still very much alive. I ignored her and kept going.

"But now... well, I know you better than I did before." I thought such a statement was obvious, so I kept going. "I know why you did the things you did. I also know that you're improving yourself to branch out of your comfort zone, and explore new possibilities for yourself. You used to be so wrapped up in work and your future, but now you're giving yourself a chance to live a little bit."

I scratched my cheek. "And now you're obviously much easier to talk to. Would it be wrong to say I was a bit scared of you before all this?"

"No, that'd be fair," Kawasaki admitted. "In any case, I'm glad you stuck with me through all of that. I'm also glad that I've been able to witness you change too. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how different you are compared to how you were before my request.

No, she didn't. We already both knew that I wasn't the same loner from before. She had personally made sure of that.

The contrast I felt was odd. I still partially felt like the same Hachiman—shrunken eyes, cold personality, nerd hobbies, all of that. But I couldn't ignore the changes I felt within myself as well. My cynical outlook wasn't as sour as it used to be. My days weren't quite as irksome and tiring as before. I didn't spend all of my time thinking of how to best avoid people. I certainly wouldn't go as far as to say that I was entirely happy, per se, but daily life didn't feel like as much of a chore.

"Do you regret it at all?" Her voice shook me from my thoughts. "Regret what?"

Her voice lowered, and I had only just noticed that she had inched closer to me as we walked. "Do you regret changing?"

There was a lot to consider with that question. This "change" of mine entailed a lot, and I didn't know if anything I had undergone recently would remain a permanent fixture on how I viewed the world, even if the changes were minor. Growth was a part of life as a human, and to reject it so vehemently was counterproductive to humanity as a species. The irony of that sentence coming from myself was not lost on me.

I don't think I would have had a chance to regret these inner changes. They would have come eventually, regardless of how often I fought and raged against them. There would have come a time where I was met with a decision—to remain as I was, firmly entrenched in the turmoil that was my distrust of people and scorn of humanity, or to advance past my own limitations and abandon all I had known for the sake of growth. I honestly don't know what path I would have chosen, given who I was then and who I was now.

Yet, despite all my qualms with change, and all my hesitation with becoming a person that may have been better than who I previously was, I found myself not at all averse to who I was now, in the present. It had been a long road, certainly, but I felt like I could truly say that I was a better person for having traveled it. For having discovered the meaning in caring for someone other than myself.

Even as a part of me clung to the unyielding loner that I was (and still partially am), I felt, for what might have been the first time in my young life, comfortable with myself. Though a part of my desperately depraved self still continued to search for affirmation from the woman beside me, another part of me could feel the comfort in knowing that despite everything, Kawasaki Saki would remain by my side.

Maybe that was the affirmation I needed. Not verbal, or physical, but beyond that. This girl's mere presence, which had endured and shared a great deal of challenges, heartaches, and fights with me, was still here. Despite everything, Kawasaki Saki was still here.

She truly, genuinely loved me. That much was plainly obvious now. It likely had been plainly obvious much earlier, but the fact that I could see it now was a sort of change in of itself. Which I guess tied in to what Kawasaki had asked me in the first place.

"Who knows?" I eventually got around to answering. "I guess we'll just have to find out in the future, won't we?"

I don't know if she caught the double meaning of my words, but I suppose it didn't matter. Her smile was enough of an answer for me.

Wrapped up in all my inner ramblings, I had only barely noticed that we had reached her house. Our night together had come to an end. All in all, a good time, I would wager. Nothing had gone horribly wrong, at least. "Well, we're here."

I didn't miss the disappointment in her expression as I announced that. "Yeah, I guess we are."

We stood outside of her front door, silent, but not awkward. For a time, we said nothing, content just to gaze into each other's eyes. It felt tacky and stupid, and I had already promised that I wasn't going to wax poetic about her eyes, but they really were pretty. Maybe that was the secret behind her tips?

"Thanks for taking me out tonight, Hachiman," her voice was soft and quiet. "I had a really great time tonight."

I felt inclined to agree. "Yeah, I did too."

"I... wouldn't mind doing this again sometime." I could tell that there was a lot that she wanted to say, but she was holding herself back for my sake. Thoughtful of her, but I had a loose understanding of what it was she wanted to tell me.

"Neither would I," I concurred. "I'll take you someplace nicer than a yakiniku restaurant next time."

"Oh, stop it," though she chastised me, she was laughing. "I had plenty of fun. So long as it's with you, anywhere is great."

I smirked. "A haunted house for next time, then?"

"Okay, almost anywhere." We both laughed this time. I might have been worried about how easily the laughter came to me, but I pushed the thought from my mind. Did it really matter at this point?

Our laughter subsided, and it was then I realized that we had unknowingly inched closer to each other. Less than a foot away from me, I realized I could take in everything about her in astoundingly vivid detail—her stylish beige sweater, clinging modestly to her form. Her long, glossy hair, which smelt faintly of that familiar pomegranate.

Her alluring, amethyst eyes, closing slightly as she leaned in to me. Her warm breath tickling along my face as less than a foot became mere inches.

The feeling of her soft, gentle lips, pressing tenderly against my cheek as I stood silently, stunned beyond belief.

Kawasaki pulled away, her eyes never leaving my own as her bashful smile lingered. "I'll see you tomorrow in class?"

It was a miracle I was even able to respond to her. "I, uh... yeah. Tomorrow. Definitely. I'll see you then."

"Good," she unlocked the door, letting herself in as she waved at me one final time. "Goodnight, Hachiman." And then she was gone.

I don't know how long I stood outside of her front door, gaping like the dopey fish I had so often been called in my youth. I eventually was able to force my legs to walk again, and I began the long stroll back to my own comforting abode. Though, I doubted sleep would come easily to me on this night.

That part of me seeking affirmation was all but gone now. If my own revelation wasn't enough of a sign, that little stunt Kawasaki had pulled was the absolute finisher. I would never doubt her affection for me again, for as long as I drew breath.

What was more concerning to me in the present was the rapid beating in my chest that still had yet to subside, along with the feeling of longing now lodged deep within my consciousness. It was scary enough that I had enjoyed that as much as I had, and even more disturbing that I wanted her to do it again. Soon.

Groaning, I shook my head in embarrassment. Love was such a pain in the ass. Especially when you were head and shoulders deep in it.

I watched Hachiman leave from the peephole in my door. It had taken him awhile, but he eventually started walking back home. Which was good—I didn't want him catching a cold by staying out too late.

I still couldn't believe I had done that. I'd thought of some bold moves before (holding his hand at the restaurant had been particularly ballsy of me), but kissing him had been absolutely out of the question until tonight. The worst thing I could have done was move things along too quickly and make him uncomfortable, which was the last thing I wanted him to feel tonight. Everything had fallen into place—he thought I looked pretty, the conversations were funny and easy, and we ate good food. I didn't want to ruin it all by acting too quickly.

But it had felt so right! We had been laughing and having a great time and he looked so handsome and we looked so in love with each other and it just... god! I wanted to do it again! Would he let me do it again? Had he liked it? Did he hate it? Gah, it sucked not knowing what he thought!

I could only hope for the best. For now, all the groundwork had been laid. It was up to him to see where we went from here. It was nerve-racking, for sure, but I trusted him to do the right thing. Part of his charm was how smart he was, after all.

I finally took off my shoes, and made my way into the living room. I had expected it to be empty, so I was surprised when I saw mom sitting leisurely at the kitchen table, dad sitting to her immediate right. Wasn't she supposed to be working late tonight?

"So?" Mom asked with a knowing look, skipping the formalities altogether. "How'd the date go?"

Standing awkwardly in front of them, I attempted to answer as nonchalantly as possible. "Pretty good."

Dad's eyebrow raised. "Just pretty good?"

I frowned. Damn his intuition! "Yeah. It was fun."

"Just fun?" My mom added, and I felt my emotions bubbling over. Oh, to hell with it!

"Fine! Tonight was amazing! Perfect! I had the best night of my life!" Despite my little outburst, my parents were both wearing content smiles. "Look, I really, really like him, okay? He... he means a lot to me. I really want this to go well between us." I finally managed to harden my gaze. "That's why I need you two not to scare him off! I put a lot of time and effort into getting him to notice me, and I don't want you ruining it!"

"Oh, Saki," despite how flustered I was, my mom still rose from her seat and made to give me a hug, which I reluctantly accepted. I hated how easily she was able to calm me down. "I already know how happy he makes you. Why would I try and ruin my own daughter's happiness?"

I sighed. This was so frustrating. Why couldn't Hachiman be here? "I... I know you wouldn't. And I know it's dumb and stupid and girly of me to get all emotional about this, but..." I clutched my mother tighter. "... I seriously like him. I don't know exactly how he feels about me yet, but… I want to hope."

"And we'll support you no matter what happens," Dad placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. For as much of a geezer as he was, he still always meant well. "For now, go get some rest. You've got school tomorrow, and I doubt Hachiman would be fine with you showing up to class looking like a zombie, right?"

Damn his bad jokes. Laughing, I pulled away, composing myself with a tiny smile. "I guess you're right," I began making my way upstairs. "Goodnight, you two. Love you."

"I'm gonna want to hear all about it in the morning!" I heard mom call out to me as I left, and I sighed. I should have known that she'd be curious, given that she hadn't met him tonight. Which might have been for the better, knowing how pushy she could be.

Still, as I washed my face and changed into my nightwear, I figured that it wouldn't hurt to have her interrogate Hachiman if it meant that he'd be coming over more often. With that thought in mind, I felt myself drift away to a peaceful sleep.

"Well?" Mrs. Kawasaki asked as her husband climbed into their shared bed. "Spill the beans, Shinji. Is he nice?"

"Very," Mr. Kawasaki grunted as he settled into the mattress, turning the TV on as he did so. "A little shy, but his head's in the right place. Kid's great for Saki." Recalling something, he paused briefly. "Taishi and Keika mentioned that they had already met him. They both said they really liked him, too."

His wife's eyes widened in intrigue. "Wow. He works fast."

"Indeed he does."

Mrs. Kawasaki pondered quietly for a moment. "I suppose a son-in-law wouldn't hurt."

"Let's give it a few years before we start handing out blessings, Ayame," despite himself, Shinji Kawasaki smiled. "Still, I like the kid. Saki's probably well past head-over-heels at this point. All we can do is hope it goes well."

"I suppose you're right," his wife conceded, before gently placing her hand on her husband's forearm. "Speaking of kids..."

Shinji gulped. He did not have the energy for this tonight. "Ayame, I have work tomorrow."

"No, you don't. I already called in sick for you. You have nothing to do tomorrow," her sultry smile did little to help the man. "Though, there's plenty for you to do tonight…"

Upstairs, in her shared room with her big sister, Keika smiled in her sleep. "I'm a big sister..."

I apologize, OreGairu fandom, for jinxing the release date of the third season. I had no idea that my word held so much power. I'll look to fix that.

So, the penultimate chapter is finished. This chapter is, once again, super long (nine chapters in and I'm still breaking my own chapter length records), and I briefly considered chopping it in half, but I thought against it in the end. Figured you'd all appreciate the extra content.

And so, the end is finally upon us. One last chapter to rule them all. Know that I'm determined to make this last chapter the most heartfelt, engaging, and fluffiest yet. You WILL die of heart palpitations, and I will try my damndest to make it so.

But in all seriousness, this ride is almost over, and I want to thank you all for sticking with me for as long as you have. Times are tough right now, no doubt, so my hope is that this little story of mine can restore some of that stability and normalcy for a lot of you out there. Yes, this next chapter will be my last, but I'm honored to eventually share it with you all.

Who knows? Maybe I'll drop the final installment before the new release date of the third season in July. Maybe. Don't quote me on that.

Once again, thanks for reading, and I hope to see all of you again soon. Peace and love.

~Slalem