Hola! Minh hereeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Somehow, after I wrote that mightily embarrassing interlude, I got sick. Real sick. Sick enough that I have to consider not going to my weekly sunday dong xiao study meeting an option.

Yet, I persevered. Not only I have had a blast there at the meeting, I even finished this chapter wayyyyyy before schedule! (Protip: I have no schedule.) Praise me! Praise meeeee!

...Cause I'm super sick right now.

Super.

Sick.

Super.

Shit.

...Well, crap, I just played myself. See you guys later, I guess.

Pinky promise that the next chapter is Soon™!

Chapter 12: And so, Hikigaya Hachiman agonize over the fact he didn't agonize enough in a clearly agonizing situation.

Human's life is undeniably a fragile thing. Our identify? Even more so.

We can only be who we are in the very circumstances we are in currently. Copy us to a different circumstance and suddenly we are somebody else. But if we fluently move to the same new circumstances, we are still thinking we are the same. But are we?

Men make their own history, but they do not make it as they please; they do not make it under self-selected circumstances, but under circumstances existing already, given and transmitted from the past.

Which past is mine, though?

Camus maintains in The Myth of Sisyphus that the absurd arises because the world fails to meet our demands for meaning. This suggests that the world might satisfy those demands if it were different. But now we can see that this is not the case. There does not appear to be any conceivable world containing us about which unsettleable doubts could not arise. Consequently, the absurdity of our situation derives not from a collision between our expectations and the world, but from a collision within ourselves.

But let's cut the crap short and stop deluding ourselves in pointless philosophical waxing.

The simple truth is, we fucked up.

I fucked up bad.

I vastly underestimated human's complexity.

It was my idea to comp up with an archetype of Yukinoshita Yukino based on what I remembered so as to better deal with her in a timely manner.

Unfortunately, in doing so, I have mistakenly chosen to deal with the archetype of Yukinoshita cobbled from my fragmented memories and not the one in this reality, the one who has to deal with me almost daily.

I have forgot my own butterfly effect, and now I am paying the price.

Life has no reset button, and even if it does, I won't change the past.

Or at least, this portion of the past.

There are bigger things in life to worry about than childish high school drama.

Yet…I couldn't help but wonder.

What will happen now?

From her reactions, I gave Yukinoshita a 40% chance of just disbanding the club right then and there, a 30% chance of ignoring my existences for the next few weeks, a 30% chance of trying to act like nothing happened when we meet again tomorrow…

And a 0.0001 percent chance of her actually explain to me in clear term what the fuck has just happened.

Who know, it could happen.

Especially with Yuigahama's involvement.

While the chance of her quitting the club outright from the unnecessary drama and unfriendly atmosphere is rather high- after all, she isn't that invested in the club enough yet – I am more than counted for her to take…some sort of action to stop this dysfunctional club from crashing down like a house without foundation.

Hell, maybe she is doing it right now, right under my nose. Yukinoshita might be too distraught to notice, but I did.

After all, it would be a damn shame if all my efforts to puffer her ego up the notch failed to give her the courage needed to tackle this obvious win-win opportunity. If she fails? No biggie. But if she success in doing this, she will have a valid reason-no, more than a valid reason, she will have a valid, undeniable place in the club.

She won't be just a mere plucky random girl who join the club for fun, but someone who clearly have a value and a voice.

Someone who deserve respect.

…Or so I hope.

While it is the most likely way for the situation to happen, it is just one of the many, many ways thing could potentially play out.

To dismiss the other potentials right after I got blindsided by an unknown unknown factor is to tempt fate.

And despite how much I wanted to tempt fate, to rage against this absurd world…now isn't the time.

Girls do their best now and are preparing. Please wait warmly until the set is ready...stuff like that.

Maybe the problem won't be resolved by tomorrow, or by next week. Or next month.

But I won't interfere with that.

I'm not so selfish to hog the stage all for myself.

Still, there is a matter about Ha-

"Hey, big bro, you look like you have, y'know, super duper ultra Hachiman level of constipation right there!" -…And just as I was to make the mental jump to the next best thing, Komachi swooped in from gods-know-where and swiped the cup of coffee out of my trembling hands.

"…Since when is my name a unit for measuring constipation?"

"Since the moment Gomi-chan walked into the house looking like you got a stick up your ass, of course!" Komachi spoke out in a cutesy sing-song voice as she held the cup of coffee away from my waiting hand. "…Do you really have a stick in your ass right now, bro? Don't worry, this super dependable little sister of you will support you no matter your choices in life! Ahh, that is a lot of Komachi point!"

"Yeah, yeah. Now give me back my coffee."

"Nah."

"…Really?"

"Nah!"

"Okay." Komachi let out a victorious yelp and sprawled herself out in the sofa chair nearby before she dug herself in, in both senses of the word.

"But…still, why the long face,onii-chan? Your clubmates bully you or something?" She mumbled between sips of coffee as she gave out a satisfied sigh. "Ahhhh, hot coffee just after bath…this bittersweet feeling is just righttttt!"

"Mhm…Yeah, something like that, I guess." I shrugged and looked at the clock. 8:30 now, huh…

"…But your clubmates are all females, right?"

"So you ain't a female then?"

"Bah! I'm different! Totally different! Unlike them brutish girl, I'm your dearest, cutest, most adorable little sister!" …So she acknowledge that she does bully me, huh.

"Well, it isn't like you have much competition to begin with: you're my one and only little sister, after all." I spoke gently and gave her a soft smile. "Ain't that right?"

"O-of course you're right! L-like, was there even a point in asking that, eh?!" …Unexpectedly, Komachi was weak against tender words.

The sight of her trying to fight down the blush creeping down to her neck was so cute I almost regretted what I have to say next.

The keyword here being "almost", of course.

Life comes, life goes. Life give some, life take some.

It is impossible to deny the fact that I do enjoy guessing the possibilities of life as they arise.

But, I personally think that Schadenfreude joy of mine stems less from the pure love and enjoyment of possibilities by themselves and more from the hatred and fear of their arch-enemy: limitations.

It is only by finding and assuring of possibilities that this ultimate fear in my heart could be quelled.

No, not the fear that none of the thing I do matter. I have accepted that fact long ago.

It is the fear of being corned. Boxed in. Controlled.

Caged.

With that consuming fear branded in my heart, it is only fair and natural for me to always, always try look for a way to make the most out of my situations, like moth chasing flame.

I am still human after all. Human's life is fragile; humans identify is fragile.

And do you know what else is fragile?

Human anal lining.

I glanced at the clock. It's 8:45 now.

The time has come.

"You know what, Komachi? You were right. There was no need for me to say that. We are family, after all. It is only natural for me to love you." I stood up and shook my body, ignoring Komachi soft, embarrassed giggling. "However, it's exactly because we are family and I love you that I must tell you this: I really am constipated." I looked straight into her darken eyes, taking in all her shock, shame and sheer incredulousness over my declaration.

Before she could open her mouth much less mutter a word, I have already shushed her and started talking. "It started awhile after I escorted Zaimokuza out of the room." I spoke without a sigh of hesitation. "First with a rumbling sense of nausea, then a prickle in your stomach that steadily raised into a thumping pain that makes your knees weak, your heart skips a beat and your face pale and rigid like a corpse already well in the third stage of death."

I shuddered as I remember the pain and took a calming breath before continuing. "I hobbled into the bathroom with the grace of a braindead peacock on a pogo stick. I took off my pant quicker than a whore lifting her skirt. I abused my sphincter muscles like a Karen to her vasectomized husband. And do you know what came off out all these efforts?" I slowly rapped my hand on the table, now fully immersed in recalling this macabre tale. "Nothing. Rien. Nichts. Méishénme. Éo gì cả."

I stopped, once again swallowing down the bitterness of defeat as it raised to my throat. "I came back to the clubroom an empty shell. No, a full shell. So full of it I couldn't even raise a coherent point against Yukinoshita tirade, so full of it I almost blackout from sheer agony, so full of it I thought I have ascended mortality, fucking yeeted once again to another plane of existence, to a place where pain mean peace and trauma mean tranquility." I sneered. "Yet my visit to that realm was cut short once again, and I was forced to return to this forsaken reality a crying, sweating mess, with pants on my knee, hands on my face and a clean toilet bowl under my ass, the water below stained yellow with piss and no-fucking-thing-else. I have once again lost to the demons in my bowel, and my ride back to home was nothing short of a walk of shame."

I grimaced and wiped out the stray sweat dampening my forehead. 8:55. Not much time left. "But enough about good old me. Let's have it at you. You, my sweet, sweet little sister. And so smart, too." I shined her a crooked smile. "Tell me, dear Komachi: what good you thought would have come from snatching a constipated man's drink, hummh?"

"I…" Komachi looked at me. And then at the lukewarm coffee cup on her hand. And then me. And then the coffee.

And then, I snapped my finger.

"I…I…" If my question brought her back to reality…

Then my snap broke her out of her stupor.

Or, more accurately, it made her conscious of the rumble and wail deep inside her digestive system.

The muffled scream of a thousand suns before a black hole.

The laxative-induced heat death of the universe.

"I-I…don't feel…so…good…"

"Naturally." I snapped, already on my heel. "I will leave the first-floor bathroom to you. Faster that way. Cleaner, too. I will take the one upstairs."

"Big…bro…" Komachi croaked out as she awkwardly try to stood up. "Why…"

"Why didn't I tell you the coffee has laxative, you mean?" I crooned as I watched Komachi hobble like a deformed penguin to the bathroom, her arms glued to her side desperately grabbing her behind, trying in vain to keep whatever inside…not going outside.

"Because there was nothing better to do, of course!" I chuckled and grimaced – yet the pain I once felt so great now has lessen considerably, no thanks due to the sheer karmic joy brought from seeing another person getting their due respect.

Each step upon the stair felt lighter and lighter, and before me enter my final fantasy, I looked back to the miserable being called "little sister" downstairs and gave her the brightest smile I could muster.

"And I was bored, anyway!"

"BIGGG...BROOOOOO!" Komachi screamed a yowling howl, one that, through the closed resonance of the bathroom, sounded like the mating call of a particularly anemic banshee.

Yet, coupled with the low, booming sounds of things hitting and splashing around the toilet water on my side, they together created the perfect symphony: the booming, episodic rhythm to the atonal melody painted a particularly avant garde picture.

One of shit, shit, and...what did you expect?

Shit.

…And thus concluded the event that will forever be etched into the fabled veil of history as "the night of a thousand waterfalls." (lol)

Afterward, Komachi refused to talk to me for one whole day. I have to bribed her with ice creams and middle school fashion magazine.

Oh, and choco-mint ice-cream is surprisingly tasty.

I should buy some for the gang after the drama dies down.

…Just in case, eh. There are chances I won't have to deal with them anymore, after all.

Which also mean I can hog all the ice-cream for myself.

See, yet another win-win situation.

I can't stand losing, y'know.

Especially losing myself.