Chapter 1: As Expected, His Life Remains Uneventful As Always.

A regret?

To truly be able to analyze what that word really means would be to analyze the concept of time and the human psyche itself. If you asked most people what the biggest regret in their life was, they would probably respond with some generic variant of the same things.

I wish I had been more outgoing when I was younger. I wish I'd made a bigger effort to hang out with friends and enjoy my youth. I wish I had asked out that cute girl when I'd had the chance.

To live is to regret… Because there is no reset button in life and the past is irreparable, regret is the one thing that is constant. Because there is no changing our past selves or altering our past actions, we have no choice but to constantly look back and fill our minds with questions of what ifs or what could have beens.

Although often we look at our pasts with a longing to return to that time, this desire is nothing but a rose-tinted delusion.

The reason that we sometimes see our pasts as memorable and as purely good moments is because our mind glosses over what really happened and tries to reconcile those moments as if to say "Oh I had a great youth! I wouldn't change what I had for anything!"

But once again, like in so many other cases, this is simply one's brain trying to protect itself from harm and dejection. In this way, it could be said that nostalgia is simply a mechanism for us to cope with the inevitable regrets and failures of our pasts.

I put down my laptop and stretched out my arms. I had managed to essentially satisfy every part of the prompt for my advanced writing course, but the essay itself was probably still a little bit too short. Even so, I figured I could use a break and snatched the 2-day old bowl of ramen and empty cans of MAX coffee off the corner of my desk.

Since I started on the assignment a whole week before it was actually due, I had a lot of time to edit my work and hash out new ideas.

The thing about starting your work too early is that your brain has no motivation to churn out anything worthwhile.

When you're just opening up Microsoft Word on your laptop at 9 PM and your paper is due at 8 o'clock in the morning, you have no choice but to cut out all distractions, and dedicate all of your mental focus entirely to your essay. However, when you start a paper that isn't due for another few days or a week, your brain justifies that you have plenty of time and that because you have so much time, you can just write something passable for now and go back later and fix it. Usually, it's only when you go back that you realize what you wrote earlier is a huge pile of crap.

Doing your homework early then is a form of self-satisfaction. You simply want to feel productive, but by doing your work early, you're actually being counterproductive.

It is only when you procrastinate that you can truly produce good material. Couldn't it be said then that procrastinators were the most effective members in society and created the best content? In fact, Spirited Away was probably written, drawn, and animated all in one day in that case!

After picking up the empty articles on my desk, I headed downstairs to dispose of them and tidy up my room. I didn't keep my room particularly spotless or anything, but even I thought it had gotten a little messy in the last few days. "No woman would ever choose me as a househusband if I didn't develop a better sense for cleaning!" or something like that.

I hurried my step and turned the corner to head down the stairs when I suddenly felt a sharp vibration at my hip followed by a piercing ring. I nearly toppled over myself in surprise and barely managed to stop the bowl from falling by propping out the tips of my ring and pinky fingers.

Impressive, I was like a ninja when it came to saving things from falling. I was like the fifth Hokage of bowl-saving right there.

A normal person probably would have put their stuff down immediately or rushed to the kitchen to put it away so as to not keep their caller waiting, but I just wasn't in the mood today. In my lethargy, I walked at my normal pace and tossed the two coffee cans into the recycling bin and rinsed out the bowl of noodles from earlier. As I was cleaning, the shrill noise from the ringtone assailed my ears. I was pretty sure a vein was popping out of my forehead in annoyance by now.

The phone made its last ring as I finished scrubbing the bowl and rinsing my hands. After drying my hands with the dishtowel, I fished through my pockets and fumbled around for my phone. When I took a look at the missed call information, I let out a deep groan.

Hiratsuka-sensei.

It wasn't that I hated sensei or anything, but since graduating from Sobu High, I would get a call from her every week, attempting to coax me out of the house to meet up over ramen or coffee or something. I would usually try to get out of it by making weak claims that I had to help Komachi with her homework or that I was swamped with my studies, but she probably saw right through those excuses anyways and eventually I started resorting to evasion and avoidance. However she would then start texting me crying emojis and I would end up going just to make sure she didn't end up drinking herself into a coma or something. Seriously, just how lonely was this person? I'm not even kidding around anymore. Somebody take her. Now.

The phone started to ring again, and I let out a frustrated sigh.

Although our meetings had been growing more infrequent as time had passed, recently I had been denying and evading her requests with more purpose than normal. Although I was never a busybody that had to go out every day to validate my existence, I had noticed that during the past few months, I'd felt even less inclined to go outside and I would usually just hole myself up in my room instead. The more time I spent alone, the less I felt like going outside. It was a vicious cycle.

I pretty much came straight home after class most days. The university wasn't like Sobu High where I could simply stop by the downtown bookstore or theatre after class to kill time. It would take an extra three stops on the train to get to downtown Chiba and I usually felt lazy so I would go home and re-read my old light novels instead. There was a bookstore on campus but hanging out there would often lend the possibility of running into a classmate from lecture, which would be awkward. We would probably be forced to play the "Do I say hi or wait for you to say hi?" game and I didn't have the patience for that kind of thing these days. Not that I ever did, but especially not these days.

Boy, being a second-year University student sure was tough. Who knew.

On the fourth ring, I finally picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

I asked, a slight hint of annoyance leaking out from my tone. My voice came out hoarse.

"Hikigaya? It's Shizuka."

"Hm. Yes what do you need sensei?"

"You've been ignoring my calls again. You do know that it's incredibly impolite to ignore your elders, especially when your elder happens to be your teacher and a woman."

"Ah I know, but technically you aren't my teacher anymore. But the thing you said about respecting my elders is true enough."

"Hikigaya…" She warned with a low growl. Yep, still scary. "Anyways, since you've dodged me for more than a month now, I figured that I would cut off your route of escape and come directly to the source this time. Look outside your window."

My heart skipped a beat as she said that but I did as instructed. I shuffled over to the window in my living room and peered through the blinds to see a sleek, black car parked in the driveway with Hiratsuka-sensei leaning against its hood, phone in hand. My scanning eyes connected with hers for a brief second before I released my grip on the blinds and fell back on my butt. Crap! I was found out!

"Come out, come out…" she said in a low whisper. How terrifying.

I jammed my thumb against the end call button and crawled behind the couch to hide. Even if she managed to break the door down somehow, she still couldn't enter unless I invited her in right? That's how these types of things worked in the movies anyway.

"Come on Hikigaya, let me in." her voice came in muffled through the door.

If I let her in, would it turn out to be like one of those films where the monster comes in and chases me around the house, only for it to get me at the very end anyway? Or would it be like the American remake of that Swedish movie where I invited her in and we would act out some illicit vampire romance? That didn't sound so bad. Then again, the vampire in that movie was young and sensei was old, so that theory was incompatible. (1)

After having been fed up with the relentless barrage of knocks on the door, I begrudgingly opened it up and came face to face with sensei. She was wearing a thick black leather jacket that flowed behind her waist, giving off the impression of that of a black reaper or genius mastermind or something. Too cool sensei, too cool! What was this, Hangyaku no Shizuka?

"Finally."

She paused upon looking at my face. What did I really look that bad?

"Wow, you don't look so good."

Well, I guess that answers that.

Come to think of it, I suppose she was right in some sense. I hadn't seen her in a few months and in that time, I hadn't really been prodigious with my shaving, and my hair had grown considerably longer. Long flecks of mustache and other facial hair sprouted out above my lip and across my chin. My hair was no better off and now hung down past my eyes. I brushed it out of the way and proceeded to respond sarcastically.

"Gee, thanks."

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just you look different from the last time I saw you that's all."

Although she looked away as she said that, I thought I saw a strange look in her eye. However, her face quickly reverted to its usual expression as she continued.

"Anyways, grab your most recent papers and let's head to a coffee shop. My treat."

"Eh, I didn't sleep much last night and I'm pretty tired now, so…" I trailed off.

"It wasn't a request." Her tone was blunt. "I'll give you a few minutes," she said as she pulled out a cigarette and flicked open her steel zippo to light it.

Well, when she put it like that, I suppose I didn't really have much of a choice did I? I let her into the living room and I sluggishly crawled my way up the stairs to my room to put on some clothes.

I had never really been fashion-conscious, but since university didn't require uniforms to be worn, I'd had to do more shopping for myself recently, which meant I would have to actually choose what to wear on this little outing of ours. I scanned the room and found a thin, beige long-sleeved shirt and pulled it over my head along with some dark navy jeans. I stuffed my laptop into my green knapsack and grabbed my wallet off the top of the dresser. I closed the door quietly and walked back down the stairs.

"Ready," I declared almost emotionlessly.

"Alright." she said in response. However, a look of realization shot across her face soon after and she turned towards me with a question.

"Where's Komachi by the way? I didn't see her at school today so I assumed she was at home sick, but that appears to not be the case."

Komachi wasn't at school today? Hm, that's odd. In fact, I just now noticed that I hadn't seen Komachi all day either. Usually she would come home around the same time I did but it was nearing six o clock at this point and I still hadn't seen her. And as for the school thing… it really wasn't like Komachi to ditch class. That's not the kind of girl my little sister was; annoying and entitled yes—a delinquent, never.

"I don't know, I haven't seen her around today either. Also, Sobu's a big place so you can't really expect to see her every day or anything. That might be the reason you couldn't find her today."

"Mm, you may be right, but usually she stops by my office during lunch to say hi or to talk. I find it a little strange that she would so suddenly skip what has kind of become a routine with us."

I was slightly curious as well but ended up shrugging.

"Anyways, let's get going," Sensei declared as she stood up with a flourish. The back of her coat swished behind her as she turned sharply. Still as cool as ever teach.

We both walked out the front door after our brief exchange concluded. I pulled out a key from my bag and quickly locked up before following Sensei to her car. She sat in the driver's seat and I, of course, planted myself in the passenger side with a thud. The leather was soft and plush, but a lot colder than I remembered. In fact, the atmosphere was a lot colder than I was expecting as well. It was only late November, but it was freezing.

We pulled out of the driveway after we put on our seatbelts, and Hiratsuka-sensei stomped on the pedal to accelerate the car. At this point, it was nearly dusk, and the sky was a darkish-grey color. We sped out of the neighborhood and onto the highway where lights from the industrial areas and other cars flashed by my eyes. We sat in silence for a while, both looking out at the distance ahead of us. It was a very long distance.

(1) American movie about a middle schooler who falls in love with a vampire.