Written in honour of Season 3, but in firm opposition to the loner ending. If that means hating Watari, then sure.

Study Session

Oneshot:

Yukinoshita Yukino is...

I could end that sentence in so many ways. Correction: I have ended that sentence in so many ways. There are dozens of adjectives, dozens of metaphors, dozens of possibilities and I'm sure that there are a dozen more lost and disconnected identities out there, waiting for the moment when Yukinoshita Yukino will finally, immaculately arrange them, in a perfect composition of long black hair and glistening blue eyes.

Blue eyes? You see, this is exactly my problem. I can't even get away from her eyes, from the simple features belonging to every simple face that I've previously forgotten without issue, because even blue can be replaced by any number of equally adequate adjectives. Sapphire, for example. Or turquoise, or sea blue, or sky blue, or icy blue, or cyan or cerulean or even just blue tinted, damn it. I know that the much renowned romantic comedy Gods are pretty much figments of my imagination, but I've said it before and I'll say it again. Gimme. A. Break.

Huh. That's weird. Why am I referring to Yukinoshita Yukino in the same breath as romantic comedy?

Why is all of this even an issue at all?

Of course, it could quite easily be put down to the undeniable truth that I'm a very pedantic person. The most pedantic that I've ever encountered, so much so that I quite frankly put the rest of those that I ve encountered to shame. In fact, I'd like to absolutely insist, with as much thoroughness as possible, that I am not exaggerating my capacity to be pedantic in the slightest. Do you understand? Ha ha, do you also get my joke?

Very funny, I know. Coincidentally, I'm also the most amusing person that I've ever encountered.

Y'know, I can almost hear Yukinoshita Yukino's response to that. If I'd said it aloud, of course. She'd glance up very quickly or suddenly or unexpectedly from her book, and her blue or sapphire or turquoise eyes would narrow as if she'd caught sight of a particularly human looking insect. Then, she'd probably comment at great length on this resemblance, in her cold or blunt or cutting or abrupt voice.

Thankfully, there isn't any similar confusion over why I'm contemplating the brutality of her insults: for the next few hours, I'll very probably be exposed to them with an unnerving frequency. This is out of the ordinary for a number of reasons. First of all, I'm not accustomed to spending more than a single hour with Yukinoshita at a time, partly because Service Club sessions don't usually last longer than that, and also partly because I'm really not sure how much abuse my poor heart could take before giving out. Seriously: Yukinoshita could probably become a serial killer purely through verbal induced cardiac arrests.

Huh. And now I'm imagining her with a shinigami's notebook in hand. I can't decide whether the image is hilarious or just outright disturbing.

Oh no, I can. It's definitely the latter. And that's why the thought will be expelled before I really do have a heartattack.

As if I wasn't nervous enough about going to her apartment.

Ah shit. I m going to Yukinoshita Yukino's apartment. The amount of harem-esque misunderstandings that could take place is outrageous. Somewhere in another virtual reality world, I m pretty sure even Kirito is ashamed of me.

Of course, if I was a thirsty teenager (that admittedly I don't always do the best job of not being), then such encounters as accidentally seeing Yukinoshita in a state of dress would probably delight me. But this isn't the aforementioned Sword Art Online. If I walk in on Yukinoshita only half-dressed, she won't just threaten to stab me while blushing cutely and shouting 'baka'. I will just be stabbed. Regardless.

Though having said that, Yukinoshita doesn't do the best job of not being a tsundere either.

Actually, thinking about it, I'd say she was more of a kuude- I need to stop. In fact, let's just dispel the notion of half dressed Yukinoshita Yukino period. Any further thought on that front and I'll be arrested for obscenity in a public place.

Ah shit. I'm going to her apartment.

Gulping, I take another quick survey of the building's reception. It's about as up market as you'd expect from a family like hers: an ornate patterned carpet, metre high potted trees that I'd expect to be rare in some vague discipline, ceiling fans that seem more for show than practical use. The receptionist eyed me pretty severely as I entered and she's probably still eyeing me now- the last time I was here, they used a system of calling up to the person you wanted to visit and asking them to let you to the elevator, but for whatever reason they changed the system. Make it more official, I guess? Either way, I really should've thought twice about the cargo shorts and T-shirt before disgracing the upper echelons of society with my apparently evident peasantry. I mean geez, from the looks people are giving me, you'd think I was wearing a bandolier and cradling a semi automatic. Quick Hachiman, activate dead eye- your lesser known 109th skill.

He he. If only.

The invitation took me completely by surprise. You'd think that Yukinoshita Yukino, being a component of the modern, fast moving, fast whirring generation, would have at least a vague grasp of texting etiquette. But no, her and her family (apart from that devil woman of an older sister) are still very much trapped in the Edo period. Her text message was a text message only in name. In its manner, its address, its over blown formality... well, in short, it was like she thought she was writing a letter. I was half expecting her to reveal that her name was Elizabeth Bennett and that my name was actually Mr Darcey.

It read as follows:

Hikigaya Hachiman,

Due to our somewhat unfortunate acquaintance via the Service Club, and the absence of my usual study partner (that being a certain Yuigahama Yui, who is visiting family), I would like to extend to you an invitation to my apartment the coming Sunday. The reason for this invitation is so you might assist me in a study session that will commence at one o'clock sharp, which will be strictly for studying. Though the name "study session" should be self-explanatory, I have provided additional clarification so that your tiny mind might comprehend that I in no way harbor any romantic feelings for you whatsoever, and that the potential meeting in question is being suggested purely in the good name of academia.

I trust that you are already aware of my address, so I shall not disclose it. You are, of course, an aficionado in the art of voyeurism, so it is likely that you have stalked me to my place of residence at a previous time.

Signed with the sincerest regret

Yukinoshita Yukino,

Imagine my reaction after reading that on a supposedly peaceful Friday evening, two days ago. Let's just say that any 'peace' that might've been involved was dispersed pretty quickly. What made it so terrifying, other than Yukinoshita's bewilderingly unnecessary vocab choices, was how utterly out of place it seemed to ask for my help in a study session. Doesn't this woman spend pretty much her entire existence studying anyway? Well... except for the time she spends aggressively embracing Pan-san plushies. Or watching Youtube videos of cats. Or both simultaneously.

Naturally, I decided to use my phone for once and text Yuigahama, in the hope that she might be able to avoid this 'family meeting' and take my place, essentially saving my life from the kaiju-esque being that is Yukinoshita. Not that the Ice Queen in anyway resembles Godzilla- far from it- but the image of a city, reduced to nothing but smoking rubble in the wake of a radioactive monster, kinda looks like my mental state after a conversation with her. I would've offered pretty much anything to Yuigahama for such charitable salvation, including my life, but unfortunately she really was preoccupied.

Weirdly enough, it wasn't for the reason that Yukinoshita specified. There was no family meeting; she just needed to finish some schoolwork, and apparently, their recent study sessions hadn't ended up being very productive at all. This might provide a reason why she'd only invited me, but then Yuigahama mentioned, with much confusion, that the Ice Queen had told her she hadn't been set any new work recently, and that studying with another only distracted her.

Weird, right? It's almost like Yukinoshita's just searching for an excuse to spend time with me.

I can think of only one reason why that would be true, and that's to lure me to her apartment with every intention of torment, bodily harm, eventual homicide etc etc. I mean, considering my recent contributions to society (or lack of contributions), she'd probably be doing Japan a favor.

Remind me why I'm going again? Oh no wait, I remember. Even if I do end up dead and mutilated, Yukinoshita's presence guarantees that, visually at least, I'm in for a highly pleasurable outing. But if I'd known I was going to get thesesort've dirty looks, not even a sumptuous feast for the eyes would've persuaded me. You'd think the guy who just walked in had a vendetta against my family or something. Where do people even find that kind of anger?

Finally, the elevator arrives at the bottom floor. The doors open slowly and I duck inside, thankful for the reprieve from the generally poor reaction to my presence on the ground floor. This may be depressing, but all it actually means is that the ground floor is alike every other place I've ever been to- that's right, receiving me poorly is nothing special, so don't get cocky ground floor! I much prefer the company of this elevator. At least in here I can get some peace and quiet.

The reprieve of safety doesn't last long when I realize that there isn't a possibility of peace and quiet in Yukinoshita's apartment either.

Wow. Japan really is an unforgiving ecosystem- with intolerable social butterflies like Miura and Haruno roaming free, what's a lone wolf to do but curl up in a ball and die from overexposure? And that isn't taking into account organisms as aggressive as Yukinoshita. Honestly, I think they should put up safety warnings for people like me: anyone with a sizeable hatred for vapid conversation and absent-minded phone usage should steer clear of (insert area here). That should do the trick. In fact, why aren't lone wolves on the endangered list? I want legal protection and state policed reservations, god-damn it.

Though this does raise problems of its own. Where would the government raise such funds? Where would they find the appropriate land for the proposed reservations? Our species may be endangered- I'd estimate there was about one loner for every ten riajuus- but it's certainly not extinct. So, despite the romantic notion that I am a lonely pariah, reaching a level of pariah-ness so wholly encompassing that other pariahs can't even really hold a candle, I must admit that I'm not the only lone wolf. Having said that, I'm so uncompromising that I would prefer to be called a lone bear than a wolf, so perhaps I really am a species of my own. The pariah of pariahs. The bear among wolves. In conclusion, even if the government did find the time to make these reservations, I'd probably find a way to get kicked off them.

A pretty big dilemma, as I'm sure anyone will agree. A dilemma to which there is only one solution. Ready your pitchforks everyone. I'm overthrowing the government!

My naturally stirring warcry was interrupted by the sound of the elevator as it reached floor 17. Yukinoshita Yukino'sfloor.

Now there's a name to nip any revolution in the bud. I fear that the bourgeoisie of Japan, a class which the sub-zero Service Club president is undoubtedly a part of, are not only far too powerful but far too manipulative to provoke any form of organized resistance to their rule. There hasn't been a significant uprising since, what... the Meijii, I guess? I suppose that could mean our great nation is very much due a peasant revolt or two. Or alternatively, I could suppose that they're just too clever for us: using a rigorous combination of propaganda and online shopping websites, they've ensured that my generation are far more interested in the latest fashion accessory or light novel series to contemplate a 'viva la revolution' kind of situation. In simpler language, we're too lazy to give a fuck.

What am I suggesting, anyway? That I'd provide this hypothetical rebellion's figurehead? I'm no Hayama Hayato. Charm and charisma are not so much limited on my skill-tree as nonexistent on it. I spent all my points upgrading my Stealth Hikki ability instead. And besides, I'm a signed on pacifist, for God's sake.

Here's another ability, or maybe just deficiency, that can be found on my skill-tree: monologuing. It's a pretty useful skill. It's essentially a natural procrastinating tool, useful for when good old Vita-chan is not at arms length. I also use it for when I need a distraction from, let's say, a particularly unsettling social situation.

For example, going to Yukinoshita Yukino's apartment for a tortur- I mean, study session. Yep. The whole monologue about reservations and revolutions was a means of taking my mind of the fact at hand, that being that I am now stood outside the Ice Queen's door, supposedly about to press the buzzer, and wishing that I was literally anywhere else.

But... having said that, I wonder what skills I'd need to properly overthrow her and take the Service Club crown for myself? The trusty Stealth Hikki, of course, and all my other pre-existing skills. The aforementioned dead eye. A geass? That would be useful. Oh, and I'd probably need to change my sexuality, because noticing the person you're trying to overthrow is annoyingly attractive would be really, really inconvenient.

After ruing the absence of nearly all these infinitely practical skills, I tried to compose myself. Looking down at the button, I realized that the pressing of it would not only trigger its designed purpose (the alerting of the ruthless oppressor inside to my presence), but also effectively lower my life expectancy by about 1000%. Room 15/07. Or should I call it Room 101? I've never related to Winston Smith so strongly before. Or maybe I should just call it the depths of hell? Yeah, that has a nicer ring to it.

Right. Just go for it. Press the stupid buzzer.

Guess what? I didn't press the buzzer.

Oh for fuck's sake Hachiman, just press the stupid-

"H- Hikigaya-kun?"

I stopped as soon as the familiar voice rang out from the other side of the apartment door, and then promptly winced. First of all, since when did Yukinoshita obtain the ability to see through walls? Are her family secretly Byakugan users? Second of all, now that I've been caught lingering outside her apartment in an admittedly suspect manner, she'll be even more convinced that I'm a peeping tom and thus even more likely to rid the world of my existence. If there's any dense shounen heros nearby, imagine that I'm a dere and save me. Please. I'll join your harem, anything you want, just save me.

"Um... yo."

"Ah. So it is you."

"How did you know?"

She didn't sigh, as I expected her to, but chastised me anyway. "Hikigaya-kun. I invited you to my apartment at one o'clock sharp, and since it is only a little later than one o'clock sharp, it is perfectly reasonable for me to assume that it should be you outside my door."

"... Fair enough-"

"Furthermore, I... I could hear your footsteps on the floor."

Ah. So it's less a case of deductive reasoning and more a case of general hearing capability. Classic Yukinoshita. Then again, either case would be a lot more convincing than my proposition of Naruto-related psychic powers.

Though there is something very un-classic Yukinoshita about this 'conversation' so far. Her voice, even through the apartment door, doesn't seem as... collected as usual? Or maybe the right word is relaxed? Nah, Yukinoshita's almost never relaxed. At ease? Controlling? Tyrannica- you're doing it again, Hachiman. Just choose a word to describe her. It doesn't need to be that complicated.

Hm. When has anything between me and Yukinoshita not been complicated?

"... So."

"..."

I glanced down the corridor stiffly. If that's possible.

"Are you going to let me in? It's pretty rude to keep guests waiting."

"Only humans can be counted as guests. Stupid Hikigaya-kun."

So I'm not even in her apartment yet, and my very status as a homo sapien is being undermined. Fantastic.

"You can call me an insect, a bacterium, or an extra-terrestrial all you want, Yukinoshita. Just as long as this whole 'study session' wasn't a prank and leaving my bed wasn't for nothing. Don't you know my bed and I are in a serious relationship?" Okay. I obviously didn't say the last part. Kinda wanted to though.

"... Don't worry. I would never be that cruel intentionally."

"A year in the Service Club says otherwise."

"..."

And things are suddenly awkward. Again, not even in the apartment yet. Doubly fantastic.

Whelp, I'm guessing that this was a prank, then?

"So much for the unflinching professionalism of Yukinoshita Yukino. It's okay. It really is. Both my bed and my light novel are sorely missing me, so I'll head back no-"

"N- no, it's... it's not a prank."

She coughed, and I imagined her straightening her posture.

"Never let it be said that I am a poor host, even in the face of an individual as, uh... unique as yourself. I invited you here for a study session, and I intend to make good on that invitat-"

"Look, um... I mean, I was basically joking, so you don't have to be so formal. Like I said, we've been in the Service Club toge- in the Service Club for about a year now."

"... Yes. Of course."

"... I would appreciate being let in thoug-"

Abruptly, the door to the apartment swung open. Letting out a sigh of relief (mixed with a healthy dose of agony), I started to make my ahhhhhhh

Ahem.

I may have lost my trail of thought there.

Now, there's only a very, very small circle of factors that could result in something as disgraceful as distracting me. Okay, perhaps I should be more specific. There's a very, very small circle of factors that could potentially distract me if I didn't want to be distracted. If I wanted to be, and incidentally a Math lesson scenario springs to mind, then pretty much every factor, every atom even, could distract me. A slightly out of place table? A new and decidedly still-shit display of student's work on the wall? You name it- in the right time and place, I'd be willing to vouch that these were of monumental scientific and philosophical interest. If I'm not in the right time and place, then the factors in question are either a close proximity to Komachi or Totsuka (I group them together as both come under the classification of prophet), or a close proximity to any attractive woman that is not my sister or technically a male. Oh, and as usual, I curse the romantic comedy gods for that cold, unforgiving reality. Don't think that I'll ever forget your crimes.

So, it should stand to reason that I'd also be distracted when in close to proximity to Yukinoshita Yukino, right? Well, you'd be wrong! Darwin's theory of evolution dictates that an animal such as your very own lone bear can eventually adapt to a specific environment. At first, the environment of the Service Club presented something of a challenge. No matter where I looked, there always seemed to be an attractive woman in my peripheral vision, and thus I rode the sessions out in a state of virtually perpetual distraction. But, thanks to a combination of mental determination and samurai-esque discipline, I overcame those obstacles. Now, I'm only about fifty percent distracted in Service Club sessions! Hint: this is where you all applaud.

But I'd be naïve fool if I underestimated Yukinoshita s attractiveness. She's like the Saitama of attractiveness; no matter how many times you power up, or how many hours you train, she'll always be a little too attractive for you. Therefore, when she finally opened the door to her apartment, and my mind processed her appearance, I suffered a relapse and became distracted with a vengeance.

I've become so accustomed to seeing her in her school uniform that seeing her in own clothes tends to be a bit of a shock regardless. I still remember my first experience of this, when we went to the shopping mall to buy Yuigahama her present. I learnt that day that the Ice Queen is far more interested in the practicality of clothes than she is in their appearance or fashion credibility, something which I admire to this day, but I dunno. Could these be described as practical? If we're judging it on the amount of skin they cover, then definitely not. A- and no, noticing that is not perverted if it's the truth!

Crap. I'm really giving the wrong impression. It's not like she's wearing a bunny suit or anything; meeting revealingly dressed women in public is a fantasy regrettably confined to stuff like that Bunny Girl Senpai show. As a general rule, I've concluded that anime indulging in the let's-give-it-a-stupidly-long-title craze will largely be awful.

It did kind of terrify me (among other things) how much Mai resembled Yukinoshita, though. The only difference is that the Service Club president doesn't need a fetishized outfit to be beautiful. Like I said, it isn't risqué or anything. It's my fault for noticing that her top, which by the way is very uncharacteristically feminine, shows an awful lot more of her shoulders than the Sobu High uniform. It's my fault for picking up on the toned, slender legs and the way the skirt is clearly loose enough to be, uh, influenced by a friendly gust of wind. Why couldn't I have encountered this version of Yukinoshita Yukino on the rooftop instead of black-lace girl? Oh, and just to top it off, she's wearing those adorable reading glasses. If I didn't have a year of Yuki-resistant discipline, then I might've been arrested just then.

But she has a flat chest, so obviously I can't be attracted to her, right?

She, in turn, noticed very quickly that I had noticed her. Her eyes widened a little, and though her hands remained on the door, holding it aside for me, an all-encompassing blush found its way to her porcelain face, turning it the color of cherry blossoms in bloom.

"I... uh..." she stuttered painfully.

I bit my lip. "You... sorry. It was rude of me to stare."

Just be a gentleman, Hachiman. That will salvage things! I promise!

"..."

She still hasn't replied. Where's the reprimand? The comment that her chastity is under significant threat? I still haven't moved either. I'm still stood outside her apartment, for fuck's sake.

After a few more pauses and stops that can only really be described as pschological torment, my host seemed to conclude that it was easier to carry on as if nothing had happened. She left the door open, turning tail and heading back inside.

"C- come in at your leisure. I've already p- prepared some refreshments."

Before I could 'come in at my leisure', I was greeted by the sight of Yukinoshita Yukino walking away from me, and was once again momentarily distracted. This must be what being under siege feels like. But commander, we're in danger no matter what angle we look from! Call in the reinforcements!

Stay strong, Hachiman. Be bold or courageous or resolved. One of them.

I stepped into Yukinoshita Yukino's apartment.

There's an elephant in the room here, and for once, it isn't Zaimokuza-kun.

You see, I would consider myself a man of principle. Principles that I would rarely compromise. In that respect, Yukinoshita and I are very much alike, and ironically almost all of our disagreements have stemmed from this likeness. One of these is that a person always has a reason to do or say something- I don't believe that a person can ever really act 'unintentionally'. According to this, Yukinoshita must have had a reason for inviting me to this supposed study session, and my presumption was that it would reveal itself when I arrived, but its been about an hour now and the amount of studying we've done basically amounts to zero. This lack of work is the very elephantine truth that I'm talking about, and to be honest, it's starting to grow beyond elephantine and into the realm of titanic. I'll have to fetch my ODM gear any minute now.

Upon getting past her front door, which thanks to our collective introversion ended up feeling more like an impenetrable blockade than a door, I was led over to a table in the centre of the apartment. It was made of glass and clearly a whole lot more expensive than my kokatsu, though since another of my principles is that a family is uncivilized if they don't have a kokatsu, maybe I should've taken that as a cue to leave.

Impossible, of course. I'd definitely die of shame if I allowed myself to be that rude, and anyway, what excuse did I have when Yukinoshita then brought in a tray of herbal tea and assorted delicious looking biscuits? Feeling the effect of the bourgeois hospitality, I settled into the couch with a mug of the good stuff and the Service Club president opposite me, much like the club sessions themselves.

"Wow, that looks gorgeous. Oh, and the refreshments look good too."

Again, that's obviously not what I said, but the prospect of dropping a chat-up line on Yukinoshita had my light novel smirk out in force. The thought did incur a rant about how I shouldn't laugh aloud at interior jokes, but it didn't prevent us from getting down to the, uh, nitty gritty of our study session. I hadn't brought any schoolwork of my own, as she was the one who'd done the inviting and I thought that I would be playing the role of assistant, holding up review cards and the like.

This was when my confusion began to build. Primarily, it was because I was ruthlessly criticised for not bringing anything and labelled an 'incompetent, sexually corrupt fool'. But then it became clear that Yukinoshita didn't seem to have much of an inkling what was going on either. She brought out her Japanese folder, the one subject I may have been of use in, but was off-puttingly vague about what we were actually going to do with it. I was just about to ask when a pad of A4 paper and pen was shoved into my hands and the faux study session commenced.

Actually, I want a katana blade instead of ODM gear. Seppuku is calling.

Source that neither of us were doing anything: glances. The art of eye contact is an ancient and deadly one that few can claim to be proficient at. I think that I'm better than most (mostly due to my desperate avoiding of eye contact at all discernible cost), but about twenty times so far I've fallen into the trap of looking up to see what my study partner is doing at the exact moment she decided to do the same. And this has happened, I repeat, twenty times. Naive, Hachiman. Naive. What are you gonna do next? Accidentally drop something so that you both reach down and end up face to face? Everyone knows the rom com scene I'm talking about.

I'm not going to look up again. I know my pen hasn't moved on the paper for awhile now but this is getting ridiculous aaaaaaaannnd our eyes just met again.

For the twenty first time, the glance was broken with Hikigaya Hachiman cursing under his stupid stupid breath and Yukinoshita Yukino blushing uncontrollably. She's probably blushed more times in the past hour than she has in her entire life previously. If we're not careful her blood supply will run out.

And for the record, I refuse to accept that I'm responsible for the blushes. This is purely down to the awkwardness of the situation, okay?!

An awkwardness which you've caus- oh shut up, mind. That isn't helpful.

Okay. I'm sorry Yukinoshita, but I can't keep this up.

"... Yukinoshita?"

"Yes, Hikigaya-kun?" she said, so fast it was unnatural.

I coughed. "... Can I ask you a question?"

"About the work? I suppose so, though your pitiful collection of brain cells may render any explanation pointles-"

"Look, if I didn't understand it would be down to your terrible explanat- that's not even the point. I'm trying to-"

"If the question is not relevant to the task at hand then I'd prefer not to have any distractions."

I caught on immediately. Yukinoshita didn't want me asking this question, because it was an obvious one and would most likely just make things more difficult. It was a natural response, but not natural to her, nor to me. The Service Club has had its fair share of hardships, and as long as me, Yuigahama and the girl opposite me continue as its members, I have no doubt those hardships will persist. This 'natural response' plays a big part in those hardships, and none of us, especially not Yukinoshita and I, have quite decided wheher we want it to be natural. Or maybe the issue isn't that its natural. Maybe its because deep down we think that avoiding the question isn't what we want, or assume that we want.

Huh. Here's a thought. Where would humanity be right now if they hadn't asked questions?

Not that it applies to me. According to Yukinoshita, I'm actually an insectoid.

"Yukinoshita... it would be a lot easier if you just told me why I'm here."

"..."

"Wouldn't it?"

"..."

"It's fine. To need help, I mean. And to ask for it. Yuigahama and I can-"

She dropped her pen down on the glass table, so loudly it cut me off mid-sentence, so starkly tense it was difficult to watch. Her knees were pressed tightly together, and her fingers gripped the fabric of her skirt as if they were the last strands of her sanity. The beautiful blue or cyan or cerulean eyes were fixated on something beyond my comprehension. I didn't have the time to wonder which of the adjectives was best to describe them.

"I would sincerely appreciate it if we could return to the study session-"

"Study session?"

My tone wasn't sarcastic, but I can't deny it was a little annoyed. It was beginning to feel a lot like I was being patronised to. I know that wasn't her intention, but if she'd invited me for something, then getting straight to the point would save me a great deal of internal monologuing.

And I'd prefer to leave without this heaviness in my chest, if at all possible.

"Yukinoshita, if this really was for a study session, then why would you need me for it? I won't deny that Japanese is my strongest subject, but you're already far better than me, and we both know it."

"..."

"If you want to improve yourself, invite Hayama Hayato."

The words came out far more cutting than I'd hoped. Without anticipating it, without even wanting it, a bitterness had bled into my voice, into the room, settling around us like thunder clouds before rain begins to fall. Already regretting what I'd said, I looked over to the huge glass windows of the apartment. I've always said I'm proud to be from Chiba, and at that moment, the view of it was much simpler to look at than the girl opposite me.

"..."

We still weren't looking at each other.

"... Yukinoshita."

"..."

"If you're not willing to say what you want, then I don't see a reason that I should stay."

"..."

I stood up to go, still cursing, still monologuing. I wondered what answer, what imperfect solution I'd find to counteract the latest failing of the Service Club? I always ended up having to manipulate someone, or to pretend that my mistakes were not mistakes but methods-

"Hikigaya-kun."

When her voice pulled me back, trapped my footsteps from taking my any closer to the door of her apartment, I almost didn't want her to. Why? Because despite my misgivings as to avoiding the question, the reason that I'd confronted her about this sour invitation in the first place, I still felt the pull. The pull of my footsteps in the direction that they'd half-heartedly chosen, away from Yukinoshita and back towards something I could call comfortable, and unchanging. In fact, her voice was so raspy, confused, it's probably a miracle I heard it at all.

But I think a part of me was waiting for her to speak. Begging for her to speak, even. To change my footsteps and prove to me how half-hearted the choice to leave really was.

"Hikigaya-kun, I... I don't..."

"..."

"I've never known... how to say these things. I... sometimes it feels as if I've never had the opportunity to, or the correct time and place. But I know that... that cannot be true, because if you spend too long searching for the right time and place, then how could you possibly hope to find it?"

I sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Neither do I."

My footsteps changed, and I forced myself to look back at her. She hadn't moved, but her expression was contorted with a kind of suffocated intent, and her face was cold and beautiful and I realised that the view of Chiba behind her, in the window, could never really have distracted me.

"I... I don't know what I want to say, Hikigaya-kun. All I know is that I want to say it. More than anything."

Her eyes fell down to her knees.

"I invited you because I wanted to... to say it, to... to tell you..."

Okay. Lemme just pause things for a second.

Is everything paused, Dio Brando style? Am I still standing in Yukinoshita's apartment, not sure whether I'm supposed to leave or go, and is she still struggling to articulate what she wants to say? Brilliant.

Imagine that you're in my position. At least for the time being, you are Hikigaya Hachiman. Sat just a short distance from you is a teenage girl who you have tried and failed to find the adjectives to describe. Not just her eye colour, or her skin, or her hair. Not just blue, or cyan, or cerulean. You cannot decide for the life of you whether it is even worth describing her; if the words could ever capture what you want to say, or the way that you truly perceive her, or the way that she truly perceives you. A couple of words keep arriving. Beautiful, perhaps. Unapproachable. But you know it won't be long before they're gone, and you'll have to start all over again.

Yukinoshita and I are doing that constantly. Starting over and over again. In hindsight, I can look back and I can analyse, or try to analyse, the significance of this moment. The one that I've paused. I could ask myself those boring, cliched questions that you always ask yourself, like 'what would've happened if I'd left instead of stayed' or 'what would've happened if I'd said that instead of this'? But this is my opinion. This is the reason that I paused things.

I, Hikigaya Hachiman, have been guilty for a long time of asking too many questions. Or put more meaningfully, I've been guilty of asking too many questions at the wrong time. When talking to Yukinoshita Yukino, I was always obsessed with one thing or another. I would ask myself if it was genuine. If it made sense. If we were being true to ourselves.

But the biggest crime of them all was not that I asked too many questions. It was that I never answered the ones that I asked.

Is it genuine? Does it make sense? Am I being true to myself?

Well, how the hell are you going to know if you don't try?

Okay. Let's unpause things, before I fall back into old habits and consider what I should've said in this moment between Yukinoshita and I, brought about by what was quite possibly the worst study session ever. And believe me: I've had bad study sessions.

"I want to say... to tell you-"

"Yukinoshita."

I couldn't listen to anymore of what she had to say. What she was trying to say. If I hadn't interrupted, we would probably have been stood in her apartment forever, just waiting for the other to speak.

"Yukinoshita, you... you don't have to say what you want."

She blinked.

"... What do you mean?"

I clenched my fist. I was tired of it. Of waiting around for the other. I didn't want to carry on waiting.

"You don't have to say because... because I think that I know already."

Our eyes met. Those of a dead fish, looking into blue.

Or was it cyan? Or cerulean?

All I can say is that, after our study session had passed, I had a lot of moments remaining with Yukinoshita Yukino. A lot of moments to contemplate what the right words were.

And believe me. I never stopped contemplating.