Chapter 12 - Consultation

Distance is a peculiar thing.

On paper, the concept is laughably simple. 'The extent or amount of space between two things, points, lines, etc.' Measurements, coefficients, units, addition, subtraction: in other words, simple math. A practice in predictability. It's terribly comforting knowing that, barring a major tectonic event, the grocery store will be one kilometer from the station today, tomorrow, the day after that, and so on. The food they sell will always be cheap, and the employees they hire will always be old. Our species thrives on certainty to the extent that many willingly sacrifice their time and happiness for an imaginary sense of stability.

The truth of the matter is, the meaningless numbers we assign to the world around us suggest time, not distance. For example, a healthy adult can walk one kilometer in 12 minutes, but how pertinent is that to an elderly man with a cane? Is it fair to call one kilometer the same distance in that situation? If the CEO of a large company buys a ¥25,000,000 house on a whim during lunch break, do they spend as much as a family with a 30-year loan on a similar house? Of course not. The distances are obviously not the same.

Distance is something time can't account for. It has a vagueness to it that can only be described in generalizations like 'distant' or 'close.' How close? Adding adjectives like 'very' or 'somewhat' is marginally useful, but they provide nothing numerically certain. Besides, if time spent together was a metric of relationship quality, workplaces would be nurturing environments where happy employees learned their craft under a benevolent leader. Instead, coworkers do their best to avoid strangling each other while bosses bark commands down from their thrones. It's not a coincidence nor a matter of convenience that every cubicle has its own stapler.

My situation wasn't quite so tragic but discouraging nonetheless. Komachi still wouldn't acknowledge my existence after the Kamakura incident, despite the fact that he was the one entirely to blame. Why was it that cats were 'so smart and intelligent' when they opened doors but 'didn't know any better' when they broke something? Did no one else see the error in that logic? If being a cat meant you couldn't be held responsible for anything, reasonable or otherwise, then I'd like to change my goal from 'remora' to 'house cat.' Knowing my luck though, I'd get an owner like me. True to my word, I started messing with Kamakura whenever his sleeping form presented itself. A poke here, a loud noise there, a spilled drink... Maybe that last one was a bit much, but I think he got the message; nothing was beneath Hikigaya Hachiman. If he owned a headset, I would've ripped its cable to shreds too. With my teeth.

Realistically, all I had to do was apologize, but my last vestige of pride prevented me from doing so until now. Her help was direly needed at the moment, and I got my revenge on the cat. It'd be another month or two before he tried something stupid again.

Drinks in hand, I approached the couch. Unfortunately, she was working on math homework, so I already had a strike against me. She wasn't the best student, and her mood was always 'poor' around school work.

"Hey."

"..."

"Want a drink?"

The Hikigaya family was truly blessed with gifted eyes. A real life 'kekkei genkai' if you will. Where mine could deter hoodlums, thugs, and women with a single glance, Komachi was gifted with exceptional peripheral vision. Her eyes didn't move a millimeter as she snatched the carton of strawberry milk from my hand. I was sure our bloodline was only a mutation or two away from creating interdimensional portals.

"Um..."

"I'm busy."

She was also a grand master of grudges. I knew this, because Dad did something stupid years ago that earned her ire for well over a month. Watching a grown man do metaphorical back flips for a little girl was amusing back then, but now that I was the recipient, the memory lost any charm it once had.

"... You know-"

"I said I'm busy."

"Meowww!"

Our fruitful negotiations turned into a two on one scenario with the arrival of the cat. I was already losing the one on one, but she looked excited when Kamakura scampered up to her leg.

"Kamakura! Come here! Who's a good kitty?"

'Good kitty' my ass. As he purred and reveled in the attention bestowed upon him, I peered over her homework for mistakes. In hindsight, it would've been easier if I scanned it for correctness.

"Komachi... these are all wrong."

"So what? Just leave us alone."

How well did those two get along? 'Us?' Her appearance was starkly reminiscent of Glofield or Sr. Evil.

"Here, question one is like this. You forgot to double the top number too."

"... I knew that."

"For problem two, did you cover cross multiplying in class yet?"

"Maybe...?"

"You multiply this with this, and that with that-"

"Oh! I think the teacher showed us something like that. He called them something like 'numerator' and 'dominator' though."

"'Denominator,' not 'dominator.' That's... something else." A certain meddlesome teacher came to mind, but in her case, maybe 'dominatrix' was more appropriate. 'Puh! You call this shit literature!? Face on the floor, maggot!' Lady Hiratsuka! Not your heel-

"Meowww!"

... When did Kamakura get so tall?

"Onii-chan, your face is seriously gross..."

"Right, sorry. I-"

"Say sorry to him, not me."

"Meowww!"

Of my many talents, I considered interpreting facial expressions to be one of my strongest. Reading between the lines. The two in front of me read something like:

'Well? I'm waiting, human~' and 'Go on, Onii-chan. Apologize to kitty kitty. We're not talking again until you do.'

"... Sorry." Puh!

"That's better. See, Kamakura? Onii-chan's not a total failure!"

Was that really necessary?

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Nothing in particular."

"Come on, you wouldn't help me with math unless something bad happened."

Sorry you have such an unreliable brother. "Well..."

Was this why people put up with marriage? It wouldn't be so bad if you got to experience this every day... Amongst other things. Hopefully, the 'tri-weekly' theory didn't apply to kissing too.

Her lips were so soft and warm... Her whole body was soft... and she smelled like the can of iced coffee she gave me earlier in the week.

When she pushed back, my hands fell from her shoulders. Like a drawbridge lowering to release the captives. I wasn't sure if my face could take another slap, but I wasn't cutting our kiss short to avoid the possibility.

As her fingers extended to wrap themselves my neck, it occurred to me that she 'pushed back' with her face, and her hands weren't strangling me to death after all. They rested firmly on my cheeks, perfectly sized and warm as a towel straight from the dryer.

Something was wrong, very wrong. Miura hated my guts; the way she looked at me when we crossed paths in the hallway was evidence enough of that. She'd probably close the door on me if I was rolling around in a wheelchair! The kisses were nothing but misplaced gratitude and a mild dose of suspension bridge effect. That other girl was way scarier than any bridge I'd ever crossed, especially when she beat the crap out of both of us. Wait, was that how Mom and Dad met!? Did someone clobber them with a steel pipe before they started-

My musings halted when Miura briefly broke the kiss and reattached herself around my upper lip. As she gently worked and massaged the area, I clumsily tried to copy the motion before a tongue dragged painfully slowly across width of my lip.

My shoulders tensed and twitched at the wonderful feeling before our lips pulled but a few centimeters away. Her eyes opened, and bright green irises commanded my vision.

In a voice no louder than a secret on the moon, I heard it:

"Hikio..."

Almost as though she made a mistake, her eyes lost their previous luster and instead grew anxiously wide. She detached herself from my figure and disappeared around the corner like a bat out of hell. As the sound of her steps grew more and more faint, the synapses in my brain started firing again at an acceptable level.

"Yumi...?"

"Wait!? So you've been seeing a girl this whole time, and you never told me!?"

"Well... we kind of just played games together. I never knew we went to the same school." We never even exchanged our real names.

"Kyaa! Onii-chan, you have to bring her over some time! What's she like?"

"Were you listening? We're just friends... if that at this point."

"Come on, Onii-chan... don't be a spoil sport. At least tell me what she's like!"

"... She's about my height, maybe a little less."

"... and?"

"She has a face."

"Do you want my help or not?"

"Okay, okay... She's a little shorter than me, and her hair is blond. Not dirty or light blond, yellow like the sun. It's about this long and has these cute little spiral things on the front over her shoulders. Her eyes glow green like fine peridots. You almost don't think they're real. She gets mad at everything, and says 'HUH!?' whenever something doesn't make sense. She always wears a lot of makeup, and she also smells like-"

"I get it, Onii-chan! She's perfect: don't be creepy! Besides, you're gonna make me jealous if you keep talking about another girl like that. Kyaa! I bet that was worth a lot of Komachi points!"

"... Right." It was, but I definitely didn't tell her that. Her ego was massive enough.

"She sounds bossy though. Are you sure she's not taking advantage of you?"

"The Hikigaya family fortune is safe, I promise."

"I'm serious! She's not having you do homework for winks and sweet nothings, is she?"

"The exact opposite. She's more likely to give someone the finger than a hug."

Komachi gasped in a grossly overdone fashion. "You mean she's a delinquent? Blond hair, your eyes, it's a match made in heaven! You'd look so dangerously cute walking down an alley together! Baseball bats in hand!"

"Yeah, if we patch things up, I was thinking of buying a motorcycle. Maybe a chain and a tattoo too, right across my forehead."

"Haha! That'd be the perfect look for you, Onii-chan!"

She was kidding, right? "So, other than mutilating my face, how do I fix this?"

"Well, did you try messaging her in-game or something?"

"I tried. She won't pick up her phone either."

"You have her phone number!? I'm so proud of you."

I was ashamed to admit that I actually felt a sense of accomplishment as Komachi wiped fake tears from the corner of her eye.

"Yeah, but what good is it if she won't answer. I've already called several times-"

"That's no good, Onii-chan! You can't crowd a girl like that!"

"You can't?"

"No! I mean, even if you've known each other for a couple years online, it's totally weird to just make out with someone you met last week, right? She's confused. I bet she wasn't expecting someone like you, so just give her time to realize that it wasn't a mistake: that you're actually an okay guy on the inside."

... Was I the hunchback of Chiba or something? "I don't get it though. It was just a kiss, and I didn't even know it was her."

Komachi sighed like she'd just finished a 15 hour shift at the sawmill. "Onii-chan... Just trust me, okay? She obviously didn't want you to know it was her."

"Why not?"

"I'm sure she has her reasons, just stop trying to force it out of her! Geez..."

"... Is there anything I can do?"

"I think sending her a text is okay. Don't be needy though, and don't be a jerk! And just one! Something like 'Hey, I was thinking about what happened and just wanted to let you know that I still like you. Even if it's years from now, I'll always be there to answer if you call.' Isn't that romantic!?"

There was no way in hell I could send something so mushy, but I knew she had the right idea.

"I think I get the idea. Thanks, Koma-"

"Hey, where do you think your going?"

As I got up to leave, her hand latched onto me like a pair pliers. It felt like she was trying to break my forearm. How was her tiny hand so strong!?

"I helped you with your problem, but I still have seven math problems left. You not trying to be an ungrateful deadbeat, are you, Onii-chan?"

"O-Of course not!"

It was easy to forget that, despite her radiant smile and cheerful eyes, Komachi was, without doubt, a pure-blooded Hikigaya.