Summary: No one's sure why their life is the way it is. But sometimes, it's better to just shut up and be happy. An experiment in first person.

Tags: friendship, gen, slice of life, drama, hints of romance

Disclaimer: Characters are properties of Watari Wataru & Ponkan8, and Maruhito Fumiaki & Kurehito Misaki

"Sorry, Isshiki. I can't go on those practice dates with you." I sighed. This was going to be a bit tougher than I liked. Emotionally, at least. She unfortunately checked all the boxes of my siscon senses.

"What? Why, not senpai? You've done so before!" Her eyes watered with the crocodile tears I've become accustomed to. At least there wasn't a hint of anger or annoyance in them.

"I didn't think of them as much of an issue; they were fake. Like playing pretend; that's why you made sure to stress that they were 'practice,' remember?" She flinched, but it passed quickly enough for me to dismiss it; perhaps I could have worded that better. I rushed to make amends. "But thinking about it, it's not fair to you. It's… it's for your own good. Why would you need practice? You should be exploring your options and taking things seriously instead of playing around with someone, especially someone like me.

Quickly, I cast the finishing blow. "I care about you too much to do that to you." My girlfriend will kill you when she finds out, I didn't say.

Silence passed through the hall as she flushed vibrantly and opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't form the words. Huh. What a surprise; I didn't think her mouth ever knew what it meant to be quiet. She always had something to say.

Thus, conclusion: tonal force can, on occasion, be exchanged for or interlinked with authority.

Well, I glanced at my watch. It was time to wrap this up; Isshiki had ambushed me after my club's hours, as I was preparing to leave, and it was getting late enough that the day's remaining hours were dwindling with fright.

I lowered myself a little to be on eye-level with her (I kept the appropriate distance, of course). "Sorry, Iroha." I had to stress how important this was; using her given name only seemed all the more appropriate, but as I judged from the redness of her face, perhaps I was being a bit too impolite. After all, I was lucky she even tolerated me calling her Isshiki with no honorific.

After a lack of responses, I sighed and walked off, my hands waving as I stalked down the hall. It was useless looking back, I guess, but at least I saved her the trouble of getting gutted. Maybe I would be thanked one day. Probably not, though.

I might have saved Isshiki from getting gutted, but a fist of steel met mine and I nearly doubled over. I hacked and closed my eyes in pain. I had gotten used to being hit enough - though, despite what anyone who saw my regular beatings thought, I was not into anything like that, I swear! - by women with long, dark, silky hair and a temper to match the sun.

That didn't really help the hurt all that much. Even though I'd hoped to have acclimated against the adverse conditions, Darwinism, sadly, did not happen that fast. Why did explaining myself and my day always get me in trouble with this woman?

"Did you have fun, eh? Enjoy having a cute little girl flirt with you again? Tell me about it again. Flaunt all of that in front of me, why don't you" Her expression was murderous; calling it anything less would be like describing a warzone as mild. Her eyes pierced me as she looked down on my staggering form.

"She wasn't flirting; you and I both know there's no way she could be interested in me. These are just jokes. She has Hayama, remember?" I wheezed out as I regained breath. Violence was not the answer, but it sure as hell was hers.

"Hmph. Yeah, right." The sarcasm was strong in this one. What did she have to fear from Isshiki? Still, she refused to face me. She was probably pouting; she was always like this when sulky. Jeez. Why were the women in my life so troublesome?

"Aww, c'mon. Don't be like that." When she continued to refuse, I sighed and walked over to her and slipped my arms around her, my head nestled on top of hers as I pulled her into my chest and felt her body sag in relief and relaxation. Worked like a charm - every single time.

"You know that you've no reason to be jealous," I whispered into her ear. She shivered and I went on. "It's not like that with me and her. But even if it was like that for her… There's absolutely no competition between you and anyone else." I trailed butterfly kisses that tickled the edge of her ear, and she squealed.

Her resistance was crumbling. Now it was time to…

"Ahem. What do you think you're doing?" Oh. Oh God.

"Uh… Hi," I said lamely as I attempted to slowly turn around. The blistering heat of fury rinsed off the third person in the room. I winced and quickly used the girl in my grasp as a shield to block out the Amazoness before us. "Please don't kill me, we haven't had any kids yet." Said girl in my arms made another squeak and I felt her body burn, ripe with fever.

A dark, cruel laugh erupted from the devil before me. Satan, come get your Eve!

"Ho… Kids, huh… Kids together… You think you're going to get married? Married before me? How the hell could that happen…" Her voice trailed off and incoherency took over her words. Oh, good. She was off in her own world again.

My girlfriend sighed. Her fingers tugged on my arms and I let go. "Hello, nee-san."

That snapped my teacher out of her trance, but the sour look still bled into her emotions. The vibe I got was that my teacher would have liked to have been anywhere else but here. Unfortunately, this was her house. "You're supposed to warn me when you come over," she groaned.

Utaha shrugged carelessly. "Sorry." We all knew that wasn't going to be happening. Much.

Not that Hiratsuka-sensei minded. She waved her off. "Gah. As long as you guys don't bother me, you're free to bother yourselves. I'm going to need a drink tonight…" Utaha's eyes lit up, but her hopes were quickly dashed. "No, you can't join me tonight; you guys have school tomorrow."

My brows furrowed. "Wait, but that means you do, too."

"Yeah, but I'm used to hangovers." Like we weren't? Or at least, that's what I hoped my intended incredulous expression spelled out to her. Not that I would challenge her, of course. "Just make sure you call me next time, Utaha. Or at least text. And give me a day, geez."

"But that's no fun!" Her eyes gleamed; she loved playing this game.

Not that Hiratsuka-sensei was having any of it. "Fuck's sake, you can tell Hikigaya over there to meet you at my house, but you can't tell me, your own cousin?" Sensei's forehead seemed incredibly strained as she massaged her impending migraine. I opened my mouth as though to protest that I was not a frequent cause of them and then instantly closed it. She got us there. Both Utaha and I rubbed the back of our heads sheepishly. In hindsight, we should have been more respectful about it.

Once again, Hiratsuka-sensei waved us off and we bid adieu with haste and chased after a dream made reality: comfort and safety in the space of seclusion.

The spare room was our room. My haven, my escape, and my one true calm. True, it wasn't too much to anyone who had a decent salary and sense of decoration, but it was beautiful to me nonetheless.

A bookshelf wedged itself into the corner at the far side of the bed, and a desk at the foot of said bed. What was left of the sunlight trickled through some cracked blinds. The floor was dirtied with magazines and novels. Space was tight, but it was home.

Utaha plopped down to sit on bed, and I rolled over to where the shelf was. I never failed to look at it first. The highest level on the shelf was lined with her accomplishments. Ones that I was extremely proud of her for, and yet mutually envious of. I couldn't help but eye that row; after all, those books were crucial to whom I was now.

I smiled as I thought about how Utaha used to tease me about her books. See something you like? Of course, my eyes never darted away from her publications as I answered yes. Even though my girlfriend was one of the most attention-demanding, distracting forces of nature I have ever encountered.

Reason: much of her writing involved our relationship - something that always made me feel incredibly smug. Fact: our relationship was weird, but it was us, and it made me appreciate every aspect of her even more. And that we published these books together made it special. She wrote, and I edited some of them.

One day, I told her before, we'd have this shelf filled with books only by us. But now, I had to hold her and let her whisper her heart into the air.

"You know, one day I'm afraid I'm going to lose you to my books instead of you to some girl," Utaha said softly. She was teasing, of course, but her voice always held the slightest tint of insecurity. And from her, that meant a mountain of doubts. I shook my head. What a silly girl.

I pulled her against my chest as we laid down and stroked her hair. This was just one of those weird things people often found out as they got to know their partners. Of us two loners, I was the one who was, by far, more anti-persons. Even if she had the mouth and attitude of the devil incarnate all the time sometimes. And yet, despite how long we had been together, she couldn't help but feel afraid to lose me, and the recent incident with Isshiki didn't help her any.

"Shh," I whispered. "You're so dumb sometimes. You think you're going to lose me? You?"

She giggled. I took that as my cue. "If anyone saw us, they'd know instantly that it's me who's always worried - and with more than enough justification. I mean, have you seen yourself? And not just in a mirror."

"Silly," she whispered.

"I know," I smiled crookedly. "But this bundle of silliness is all yours."

We spent some hours in silence, lost in the exploration of our thoughts, touch, and emotions. We couldn't see each other too often; maybe twice a month. At most, we were lucky if we could see one another every week because of the distance.

Though, I supposed that 'Absence makes the heart fonder' resonated between us. I headed downstairs to cook. While I wasn't ashamed to admit I was rather lazy, I always felt the need to contribute or pay Hiratsuka-sensei back somehow after invading her home and privacy.

Not that dinner was much of an affair; Sensei pried about Utaha's life decisions, namely university choices or if she was going at all.

Hiratsuka-sensei was almost inconsolable as we drifted into the night; apparently, her lack of a relationship really did make her feel unwanted, and having Utaha being about a decade her junior and saddled with someone (even if that someone was just me) was killer.

I tried to make her feel less lonely by suggesting that we watch a film together - all of us on her couch - but she couldn't help glancing at us through her peripherals as the night continued to suffer its passing.

The tears that she shed weren't many, if even more than one or one at all. But I knew her eyes watered every time she caught us together. I felt sorry for Hiratsuka-sensei, but honestly, I was mostly surprised no one snatched her up by this point. The pity in me never broke into the open because I knew that there were no words that could scratch the mar of her failed relationships and constant struggle for acceptance.

Hopefully she'd find someone for herself soon, because the way things were going, and if I had any say - which I did - in this relationship, Utaha and I would be together for a long time.

"Remind me why I'm meeting your circle again?" Holy crap, I met Utaha's parents before, but meeting these people made me feel like I was being introduced to the real in-laws.

"Because none of them believe I have a boyfriend," I raised a brow at that, as Utaha was definitely more than enough for just a single man, "and I may have told our producer that you helped edit my books and he's a big fan." Ah. So that's how it was.

"The things I do for you…"

"Yeah, I know, I know."

We stopped in front of her school and made sure to check in; I wasn't a student, after all. And sadly, no matter how much Utaha said she was okay with my eyes, they made me rather suspicious-looking to almost every other individual (not even my family was safe from them, as stated by Komachi).

She grabbed my hand and rushed me along into their studio, and as we neared, I already felt the chill of silence shattering. My fingers pried open the door and three heads turned; equally, three sets of eyes widened.

So, in my awe-inspiring manner of speaking, I introduced myself with the utmost eloquence: "Yo." My signature, lazy hand-waving should have given me away as well. Only confusion and blinks. I sighed. Utaha giggled and peeped out from behind me.

Then, chaos ensued. The blonde girl in the room screamed as she pointed to Utaha and then back to me. Her head tried to follow her pointing, but she seemed to only become more frantically confused. Interesting. See, Utaha? There was no soul in the universe(s) that could have ever guessed that she would lower herself to be with someone like me, and this blonde was the prime proof of that.

The other girl simply smiled at me, her pale flesh rippling with laughter. Whoa. She was pretty. Her eyes, I noticed, despite still being at the door, were a mellowed honey, speckled with hints of grey or brown. Demure enough to draw attention, but not strong enough for people to feel obliged to stare into them. They were soft and warm with openness, but they held her adrift and afar. Ironically, it made her seem cold, even though nothing else about her screamed aloof.

All that said, I guessed (not really) the last one, the guy, was 'Mr. Ethical.' Huh. He reminds me a bit of me; a bit self-absorbed, given how, after his initial reaction, he turned towards his computer again. He didn't seem anything special, though I wasn't one to talk, but who knows - he might have just been a wallflower in his own way.

"Uh... " I scratched the back of my neck. "My name is Hikigaya Hachiman; I don't know how much you know about me - if anything at all - but I'm seventeen and I'm from Chiba. And," I glanced toward Utaha, "Utaha and I have been dating for a while. Nice to meet you all."

Said girlfriend giggled as she held my arm; she wasn't normally like that unless we were in private. But that only meant two things: the first was that she was this comfortable, at which I felt a breath of relief knowing that she had such close friends, and the second was that she still wanted to flaunt me. Or rather, our relationship.

She gave my hand a comforting squeeze, and we settled in and nestled between Mr. Ethical and Ms. Heroine. Everyone here had a fair amount of nervousness, even if none of us wanted to show it. Before any more awkwardness could nestle between our two parties, I asked "So uh… what are you guys doing today? Is there anything I can do to help?"

Soubu often hosted several speakers for its clubs, as they had the resources and name to do so. For instance, the kickboxing club begged for Nasukawa Tenshin; Chiba native, a former high school legend, and disgustingly successful professional despite barely being out of his teenage years.

And they got him. Albeit with quite a lot of effort and persuasion, but they got him.

Now, for the literature club, they wanted a young, upcoming writer to take the stage for the semester. Of course, like many of the other organizations, they came to us for ideas on how to make their goal come to fruition.

And I may have been more than simply motivated when I heard they wanted Kasumi Utako to be their star guest; they just had a hard time reaching her. Obviously, I (silently) scoffed in disbelief. Meguri had a small smile on her face as she let the vice-president of the club announce this; my eyes widened, and I blinked. Clever girl.

The rest of the literature club members were dismayed when Yukinoshita immediately shot them down, more from her lack of knowledge about said author than rudeness - we weren't trying to be biased with whom we helped, but she reasoned that even we had limits.

It was getting rather tense, and one boy frowned, upset that my club's leader had dismissed their thoughts; however, he understood she was being civil. He saw no maliciousness, but it hadn't made anything easier; apparently, Meguri had actually given her club a lot of time to think, though I have no doubt that the end result was a product of her swindling words.

Said girl let the time pass as discussions brewed pointlessly. until I couldn't bear her stare any longer. I coughed into my hand and mentioned that I personally knew Utako Kasumi. The quickest smile slipped onto Meguri's face, only to be replaced by her mouth forming a small 'o' shape. Eyes widened and Yuigahama screamed about the apocalypse and Yukinoshita raised a hand to her head. Ouch.

The literature club's members didn't react quite the same as they didn't know me too well, but… given how I looked, it was safe to say that they were, ah, as one of them called it, 'shook.'

Meguri started, then. "Why don't you all go on back to our club? We still have a bit of time left. But," she paused, "if you guys want, we can be finished for the day; you can all go home, if you'd like." Regardless, they all dispersed and mumbled faint thanks as they left. Meguri seated herself next to me and giggled, still caught up in her elation - rarely did plans work out.

After the peanut gallery left, my fellow service club members remained slow-moving and continued to stare at me. I kept waiting for Meguri to speak up - what was she playing at? I dared not make a move. Surprisingly, it was Yuigahama who spoke first. "You, Hikki, know someone outside of us?" And there was less surprise in her voice than tension. Weird.

She bit her lower lip nervously and I blew a wisp of stale air past my tired mouth. What was I to say to that? Oh, that's right. "Yeah." Of course I knew people other than you guys; being a loner didn't mean literally not knowing other people. It meant choosing to not involve myself with them. And what kind of person did they think I was?

She laughed, a hollow, strangled sound. But there was some bubbliness to it, I thought. As though she were confused how that would seem to work. Well then, Yuigahama, sorry I disappointed you. "But, Hikki, the name… Well, it's girly, you know. Kasumi Utako? That doesn't sound like a guy at all."

Ah. There it was. Silly girl; she couldn't have been any less subtle. Though clearly, she tried. If I didn't know Yuigahama, I might have been offended. Instead, I coughed. "That's because she isn't." And at that, both Yukinoshita and Yuigahama seemed to lose themselves; they forgot that Meguri was still there and seemed to start sputtering.

Yukinoshita almost dropped her book at the confirmation as she moved to set it down. She slowly adjusted the glasses I had gotten for her. She swallowed some tea before voicing her thoughts. "I am… surprised," she admitted, "that you know someone so…" she hesitated, and spoke the next word hesitantly, "renowned..?" Wow, way to instill confidence in my ability to even register the existence of the female gender.

Though, her words actually carried a fair point, I supposed. It was rather odd. While Yukinoshita didn't know Utaha's handle very well, she couldn't deny that researching the name showed Kasumi Utako to be one of the most beloved new authors in the country. It must have amazed her that me, someone less in touch with society, and most aspects of culture, than her would know anything about this mysterious author.

Again, I got the vibe that I should have been insulted.

"But," she continued, "it makes sense that anyone you know would write. And read," she reasoned. Well, that was how Utaha and I had met, after all. I nodded in response.

Silence drafted itself into the space around us, occupying it with a fervent haze. It seemed to me that, for once, I was the one most comfortable talking. And that in itself was uncomfortable.

"Yeah. I mean, she writes light novels. And I have all of them. Read them all, too." A smile broke out on my face as I thought about it. Even edited a few, but they didn't need to know that. I picked up, though. "Every single one of them was… it was hard to read them at times. Not all of them are good; the first few bunches of things she wrote were actually short stories and those were really good. But her early novels? Yeah, not something I would call good.

"Still, I thought about it. Why was I so annoyed that her writing was bad after she tried to make it better? I couldn't put a finger to it; I wrote to her on the forums and by responding to the business email left on some of the early prints she had. And I told her what I thought.

"Everything spiraled out of control after that - I couldn't help it. We just kept talking and talking. And… well, it never stopped." My voice was soft by the time I finished. Silence ticked by, and I caught unshed tears in Meguri's eyes from the edge of my peripherals.

And the comprehension began to dawn on them, though more so Yuigahama than Yukinoshita. Yuigahama had mentioned her favorite bands a number of times and how she used to work part-time to see them.

She gave me such a sweet smile, "I get it, Hikki." Her voice was so tender; so understanding.

My fingers absently scratched the back of my head as I coughed in sudden shyness and embarrassment. "Thanks… I guess?"

We spent the remainder of the afternoon setting up the time and date for the meet and what kind of event it would be; would it be a meet-and-greet? Would it be a read-aloud? Would it be a speech? All sorts of things, and yet, very few of them were ideas that she enjoyed. Utaha also had to consider whether or not she wanted to reveal her face to the public as well - she hadn't held any face-to-face meetings in so long, that almost could put a description to the figure known as Kasumi Utako.

"Uhh… just saying, she's probably not going to like most of those ideas?"

Yukinoshita gazed at me sharply. "And why not, Hikigaya-kun?"

I paused, and tried to say it as simply, er, politely, as possible. She hated dealing with people. Nah, that wouldn't work. So I went on to say what I did know.

Even if I knew her, and even if many fans knew of her, it was actually a rather small number of people who genuinely knew her face. Utaha started selling her books at a young age - around twelve or thirteen; not that I let them know her actual age - and it took about three years for her to be picked up by a company and to acquire an agent, but not many people remember those days where she was the one at festivals and events stacking her early works on the table all by herself.

Since then, she had zealously avoided fan-meets in person and hosted many online discussions and had moderated her own forums; she had a business email and a fan one, and most of the inquiries that were too narrow to be on said forums were directed there.

Fortunately, Meguri cut in at some point and explained it in a way that saved me the trouble of satisfying two rather curious girls. "She's actually a rather young author; she started writing a long time ago and worked hard to become whom she is. She doesn't want to be seen because she doesn't care about how she looks - she cares about how she writes; that is her look."

"In short," Yukinoshita said, "she hates interacting with other people." Couldn't really argue with that one. "But unlike this germ over here," she gestured toward me, "her actions are wise; she is a loner, but unlike him, she has some sense in her."

I grimaced. I had plenty of sense in me! Just now… the common kind. Or one that held me together all the time. My frown was ignored, though the conversation seemed to be coming to a close. Words were fewer, and the mood just seemed so still. Our tea had gone cold.

To close the point, Meguri added, "As a young girl, she also doesn't want to be privy to too much unwarranted or undesired attention. Especially as a public figure." She had the other two girls by the nose at this point, and I shook my head. Too easy, girls.

By the end of our day, we still hadn't come up with a solid conclusion as to what the arrangement would be. Nonetheless, I said I would talk to her for them and that was that; I slipped a small grin at my two acquaintances, and they conceded that it was a matter quite literally in my hands alone at this point.

Meguri giggled as she waited for them to leave. When we finally had the space to ourselves, I let the chagrin into my voice. "So," I asked, "Is she in on this already?"

"Nope. I just thought that… this would be a good way to let them know that you're more than they think." I blushed, but still felt annoyed. Even if Meguri was like an older sister to me, it wasn't right to me that she would go behind my back like that.

I sighed. "List, Meguri… just because we're neighbors - and we've known each other our whole lives - doesn't mean you can poke your fingers into every pie or stick your nose everywhere." She pouted cutely, and I grimaced. Gah. Those eyes were too strong; and what the heck? That expression! She was older than me, but she pulled off the young, innocent face all too well. Her father was a strong man to have faced this in combat twofold on a daily basis.

"Please," I said. "I don't know if this is the right thing; heck, I don't even know how she'll feel when I call her." Meguri nodded. "Seriously. Now you've got us pinned, and I'm worried. I really don't need any drama in my life, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't need any in hers.

"Listen, Meguri, she's a professional; we're asking her as more than just Kasumigaoka Utaha, we're trying to see her here as Kasumi Utako."

But of course, she had a response for that one. "Why can't she just be both at the same time?"

Gah. Well, that was a good one. I bit my lip. This was probably what she was getting at the whole time.

"Come here, Hachi-chan," she said softly. She patted my head, despite me being more than ten centimeters taller.

"Thanks," I whispered gruffly.

We filtered into the streets of Chiba. She was humming a Pretty Cure tune as I distantly thought about today's girl in question. It was funny to see people gaze at the two of us weirdos walking side-by-side. Meguri was like a firefly, dancing to her own beat and lighting up the world around her without really thinking about being anything different. I was just a droll, slouching miscreant.

But despite standing out, no one said anything to us, and the first words I'd heard in a while were when she bade me farewell. "Say hi to Utaha-chan for me," she called out as she disappeared into the house next to mine with one last wave.

I called Utaha as soon as I closed the door to my room. She didn't squeak or jump at joy for the chance to see me - no, the contemplative side of her professionalism bled into our talk, and I loved every moment of it. I admired how seriously she took this.

Eventually, she conceded, but only if she could avoid showing her face. I chuckled at how disappointed they would be, but I knew they would understand.

Of course, Isshiki found out about the event within days and her reaction was only shock. Firstly, that I knew someone outside of my small school circle; secondly because it was a female. Thirdly, because unlike most other times I had offered a hand, I had taken initiative from the very start.

I stepped back, confused about the pressure I was feeling. It was strange, but Isshiki seemed to corner me… in a hallway.

"Are the rumors true, senpai?" Her gaze was as unreadable as ever. Not many rumors about me that I didn't know about; I nodded. "Wooow." Her exaggerated voice had much less impact on me than it usually did; was I building an immunity? Thank the heavens if that was it.

"Yeah, they asked, so… I mean, we're the Service Club, you know?"

"Aaaah. That's true. But I've never seen you so glad to help another club before. Not even me, your cute little kouhai!"

"Yeah, but unlike a certain kouhai, they put in a formal request… you know, one that didn't pop out of nowhere. And they asked the whole club and not just me to do their labor."

"How rude! I don't like what you're implying, senpai."

I glanced down at my watch. My patience for her dramatics was dwindling.

"Was there anything you needed, or did you come out this way to bother me for nothing? We're actually getting kind of busy with this one, me in particular." And I really meant it; this was building into something I actually cared about and put a decent amount of effort into. That said, I wouldn't allow it to flop. Wasted time was wasted life!

"Wah… you're being mean, senpai! All I did was ask what was going on!"

"Yeah, yeah…"

She pouted and called it unfair of me to be so picky, considering she always had to drag me along. She also continued mumbling about stupid senpais, though I have no idea why - I wasn't stupid, nor was I clueless. But she definitely wasn't wrong about my biases and pickiness; it was just a given that for me to be more than just 'biased' toward the girl of my dreams.

What surprised me was Isshiki's sudden ardor for the event and the strangle twinkle in her eyes whenever it was brought up. Huh. If only she had that much energy whenever she wanted me to do anything for her. Or the mentality. Still, she was a big help and without her, things probably wouldn't have gone as smoothly or quickly as they had.

Weeks went by much more quickly than I had anticipated, but it wasn't unpleasant. As the event finally rolled around, I spent more and more time meeting up with my girlfriend to discuss the details. However, I hadn't expected her to insist on walking to the school with me, from my house.

"So," she mentioned, casually as she stretched her arm across the table for some more rice, "I guess I'm staying the night, huh? Would make getting to your school a lot easier."

Her smile, beautiful as ever, made my erratic heart throb with pain. Excited, terrified, happy pain.

My jaw dropped. Was she crazy?! Wasn't the point of going to this event anonymously to not attract attention? Also, what? For her to show up on the streets of Chiba with someone like me would definitely make any notice rather negative.

I turned to my dad and my sister, but they were no better than myself. In fact, the rolling of chopsticks on the ground and the whiteness of Komachi's skin indicated that my sister was about to scream - a rather rare event.

"W-w-what are you saying?! You, you…" A loss for words seemed to now be our family trait.

Komachi's protests were overridden by our father telling her to hush. Komachi sniffled and told our sire she hated him, complete with crocodile tears and sniffles. She hated sharing me with Utaha already; to have her here, in this house overnight? Unacceptable.

She bounded off to her room with a hmph and a noticeably louder thump to her steps; my father sighed. He made us promise that nothing would happen under his roof, at least not for the night. He also enforced his stance that Utaha had to call both her cousin and her parents.

"You got it, Hikigaya-san." It didn't dampen her mood any.

You might think that anticipation was killing me. You might think that, perhaps, my excitement bled over to every fibre of my being and vibrancy lifted me higher than the clouds atop Mount Fuji.

And you'd be half right.

I was scared. Scared to see what my club members and acquaintances would think. I know that my relationships with most people were on thin ice most of the time; I wasn't accepted, I was tolerated. I was understood, not necessarily received.

But the Service Club and its members were the closest thing I had to a genuine friendship among peers that blossomed from something forced into something we all kept out of our own will.

The hardest part about the 'Kasumi Utako Reading-Meet-Sort-of-Event' was actually sitting through the day until it happened. Luckily, dozing off in school was one of my one hundred and eight master skills, and I was adept enough to pretend like I was somewhat aware of my surroundings.

My right foot tapped furiously as I ate lunch alone; was school always this quiet? Kawasaki was napping at her usual spot and Totsuka had to help one of his siblings with something, so I was left to fend for myself. Just a few more hours, I told myself.

As the final bell rang, I shot Hiratsuka-sensei a knowing look. I told Yuigahama that I had something to do before the literature club event, but that I would be back in time.

My legs rushed out the gates of the school; biking home only to walk back was time consuming and disturbingly wasteful, but when Utaha wanted, Utaha got (most of the time). What Utaha wanted? Not sure anyone knew that one.

The house was empty, save for the girl sleeping on my bed. She hugged one of my childhood plushies, good ole Bulbasaur, tightly as she lay on her side.

"Hey." I shook her gently, just once, and lent my fingers toward the task of running them down the stream she called hair. "Hey, c'mon now. Utaha, it's time to wake up."

She yawned and stirred, her arms stretched as she pushed off the vestiges of sleep. "Okaaay," she mumbled tiredly.

"Hey, none of that now. We have to get to my school, remember?"

"We don't have to…" God, was there anything more beautiful than that smile?

"Uhh… Kasumi Utako promised her dedicated fans that she would show up. And as far as I know, Kasumi Utako is a rather responsible author. One who keeps her fans happy."

"But her most dedicated, best fan is right here…" She hugged my waist and cuddled closer.

"Right, right." I poked her nose. "Let's go, sleepyhead."

She giggled as she slipped her fingers between mine and we carried ourselves out into the quiet, a pace that seemed so distantly slow, but a gait through which I felt the world drift around us with passion that escaped us. A passion that wasn't ours; because the world between us closed and it was just us in a space that seemed to move on its own.

Getting back to Soubu took longer than I thought; perhaps it was a result of my mind drifting, or perhaps it had always been this long. The peace of the empty school gave me no further rush, and I showed her the spots that my daily visage would ghost about.

I'm almost certain that her favorites were the library and the rooftop. The former, obviously, didn't surprise me except for the fact that Miura was working there today - and her eyes blinked with disbelief. Three times, because she needed some magic to confirm the sight she was seeing, I supposed. Also surprisingly, she simply shrugged her shoulders and made no scene about it - exactly what I wished people would do.

She did give me a sliest smile and wink though and slipped a small thumbs up to Utaha though. Huh. Weird girl, but I took the support heartedly.

Finally, we made it to the literature club's room. By this point, we had maintained a reasonable distance between us; her face had gone from aloofly cute and giggly to one of business. The space between our bodies wasn't from fear or distaste, but she was concentrating. What was she going to say? How was she going to say it? How was she really going to act; did she want to be open - would this really be formal?

None of us had come up with a final plan for how the event could have gone, and I suggested to everyone that we should just let Kasumi Utako decide how it was going to go. Eventually, Utaha decided on a talk, but under the condition that there would be no pictures or recordings - any sighting of a phone would result in her instantly leaving the premises. No compromises.

Kasumi Utako was the first side of Kasumigaoka Utaha that I had seen, and it was the first one that I knew I loved.

I knocked on the door to let them know I was coming in, and I slid it open. Utaha walked through and everyone gasped; I followed through, and some of them gave me the weirdest looks. Maybe they thought it was a hoax or a joke that I actually got them whom they wanted to see. Disbelief wasn't something unusual to me, and they definitely got a pass on this one.

All eyes turned back to the girl in front of them. Some of them looked like they had swallowed a frog, and others looked hopeful. Some were just happy. But I could surmise the other factor of their surprise: aside from Meguri, none of them had known she wasn't a woman, but a girl. One their own age.

Yuigahama, Yukinoshita, and… wait, what was Isshiki doing here? Oh well. All of them looked toward Utaha, then me, then back to her. I'm not sure if I understood what was going on, because all three of them seemed to look at each other after that, but they didn't do anything else.

I slipped next to them at the back, as Utaha stood at the front of the classroom. I wondered how they would take it; I doubted any of them were prepared.

She took a deep breath, gave me one last glance, and began. "Hi. I'm sure all of you here know of my name. Or maybe my work. But if you don't, that's okay. I'm Kasumi Utako, and my main form of writing nowadays is lightnovels.

"I started writing short stories and a bit of poetry, and that's how I got noticed to begin with; but those were never the end goal of my career. In fact, I didn't even know it was going to be mine. I just picked up a pen and kept going, the tip brushing against the pages as I spilled my thoughts into the world. I didn't care that it was something that took a lot of time out of my day, and I didn't care that people made fun of me for it in school.

"But I do know I kept getting more and more excited as my parents encouraged me to do something I loved. And, for all of you aspiring writers out there, you have to also keep your feet in the real world; as much as you dive into the worlds you make, you have to understand that this is the one we live in. There are things you need to do. The first of which is to get an agent; the second of which is to support yourself.

"I received so much criticism from everyone, even my own fans and community. Well, more like especially my fans - they were the only ones who even knew my name. And some of them," she stopped and glanced at me, smiled, and kept talking, though there was an edged to her voice that wasn't there before, "were more vocal than others. Much, much more vocal.

"I don't know what drove me to continue, but I just did. You guys might think that if someone tells you your story is trash or that it has nothing of value that you should throw it away. And you're right. You should. Because holding onto yesterday, as a writer, is only good if you can learn from it. Keeping things lying around lets you drift into the dangerous 'what ifs.' That's not to say that discarding everything is a good idea; just don't let your writing become obsessive without you doing anything about it."

Isshiki made to speak to me, but I held a finger to my lips and never once took my eyes off Utaha. This wasn't the time for small-talk, and there was no room for rudeness.

"Writing is as hard as you think; it's not like most other professions out there. You don't just move and paint art into the sky or dance your limbs and muscles into a flurry of motions. You're not a constant, either. Think of your life as just a series of commissions. Honestly, it reminds me a lot of computer science. Just a lot less lucrative." A whole round of laughs filled the room, nervous, upset, and slow. The gleam in her eyes grew.

"You have to understand the difference between when it is just a hobby for you, when it is a job for you, and when it's something you're torn about. Because those three phases are the ones that I think are the only phases. It just takes a while to recognize that.

"And I knew it was my job more than my hobby, not because I had talent and definitely not because of my work ethic… but because of my luck. That's just the way the cookie crumbles; it's not about skill - God knows how many street musicians have their peaks and their troughs, but can genuinely produce. It's not about lack of trying; of the billions on Earth, everyone struggles to get through life in a way that matters to themselves. But you have to understand, that some people make it, and some people don't; it's in your hands to decide when you're just 'done,' with something.

"For me, that time hasn't come yet." Her smile chilled the room and even Yukinoshita shivered.

The talk continued on as she explained the trials and tribulations of getting even to just the level that she was at. Her message was clear though: she was just the frog in the well; her writing might have been beautiful to us, but it was nothing because it knew not the ocean nor sea. It was just this ugly little thing that didn't know its place in the world.

Eventually, they all left, until the room dusted itself in the absence of humans whose jaded views were crushed by a cruel, cruel girl who had nothing but their best interests. As writers, of course.

"Wh… Why were you so cruel?" Yuigahama's voice was soft but well-heard in the emptiness of the room. It was only us Service Club members, Meguri, and Isshiki, who remained. Not even Zaimoukuza had the heart to remain; he'd left sometime in the middle, but by the look of his face, I think he understood the message. Ebina, however, I was surprised about. She seemed genuinely shaken.

Utaha laughed in response. It was hollow to the ears who did not understand. "Cruel? I don't see it that way. There are two positives to this: one, I can weed out my competition and two, I can make those who have the drive, the passion and yearning, flourish. You might just think that we're all just high schoolers, but the reality of the situation is that we're already in high school - what are you going to do when you graduate? What will you do for the rest of your life; how will you pay your bills and how will you satisfy yourself? What drives you?

"Those small things aren't small at all, and I'd rather them never become writers than to wander around aimlessly and have them gripe about their constant struggles and failures." Yukinoshita swallowed, but nodded her head in agreement. Isshiki seemed to have lost her taste for words.

"Hikki… I guess I can see why you guys are friends," Yuigahama mumbled.

"Me too," I said. My smile was thin, but not shaking, and I never lost it as I walked beside Utaha. Her fingers laced mine and everyone else choked. "She's my very best friend, actually."

"Oh… oh..? Is there something you'd like to tell us, Hikigaya-kun?" I'd never heard the little princess in such disarray except in the presence of her mother.

I cast one small glance at Meguri, still somewhat annoyed by the situation, but let out a sigh. "Honestly? Not really. But you guys will bug me about it later, so it's better to get it over with, though I know you guys probably guessed already."

My free hand gestured to the girl beside me. "This is Kasumigaoka Utaha; she named herself Kasumi Utako. I named her my girlfriend." Said girlfriend let out some rather pleased giggles as I said that. In contrast, everyone else seemed to take several moments to process this.

Yukinoshita's cold voice cut clear, "Was this your goal all along, Shiromeguri-senpai?" Considering Meguri was decent friends with her older sister, Yukinoshita pieced together the mastermind rather quickly. "After all, you don't seem surprised one bit."

"That's because Meguri's my neighbour," I interjected. Even though it was all Meguri's fault, I allowed it to get this far. Besides, I wouldn't let Yukinoshita go after someone who was practically my older sister. "I've known her since we were in diapers. There's no way she wouldn't know." No other missed my use of her first name; I hadn't used it before, despite having to interact with Meguri as a member of the Service Club.

Another crack in the armor; but hey, what's one more pill to swallow?

"Is… is this why you got upset at me earlier, senpai?" Isshiki's voice was low. I shrugged. It didn't seem to be the answer she was looking for.

"Can't really go on dates with people if I already have someone to date," I added slowly.

"Oh. Uh… that… that makes a lot of sense." I guess she wasn't used to being so timid as she plopped herself into a chair. She glanced around, but the atmosphere was only lightened by Utaha playing with my hair as she hugged me from behind.

As for the last person? I guess everything just got to her, because Yuigahama didn't say a word as she walked out. A sense of overwhelming pity, rare that it was, dwelled in my gut. While I knew that Isshiki's infatuation with me was more of curiosity about the unknown, it was genuinely nothing but superficiality and confusion. Yuigahama, on the other hand… well, I should have told her.

But no one ever said that I was a nice person.

Yukinoshita seemed to take this a lot better than I thought. While I held no illusions about our relationship, having one of the people you were closest to keep something like this from you would definitely affect it harshly. At least, that was my own expectation and assumption.

I wouldn't apologize though.

"I hope you understand."