My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

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My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected (My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected) Author: Wataru Watari

Awkward, friendless, and without a girlfriend, the protagonist complains to his classmates who are celebrating youth, "They're all liars, they're all lying, hurry up and explode!" His future dream is to "not work."

High school student Hachiman is taken by his homeroom teacher to the "Service Club" where Yukino, the school's most beautiful girl, belongs, leading to an unexpected encounter with the beauty... It seems like the beginning of a love story, right?

However, Yukino could never forgive Hachiman's regrettable and terrible personality!

A recurring cycle of problems in my youth—what happened to me?!

Volume 1, Chapter 1: Anyway, Hachiman Hikigaya just has a dead fish eye look.

2nd year, F class, Hachiman Hikigaya

Youth is a lie, a sin.

Those who glorify youth often deceive themselves and those around them. View everything in your environment positively.

Even if they commit some heinous mistake, they see it as a symbol of their youth, etched into a page of their memories.

For example, if they commit crimes such as theft or joining a biker gang, they say it's just "youthful recklessness"; if they fail an exam, they argue that school isn't a place for rote learning.

As long as they wave the banner of youth, they can twist even the most mundane truths and social norms. To them, lies, secrets, sins, and even failures are merely seasonings for youth.

Furthermore, they can find something special in those sins and failures.

Therefore, all their failures can be considered part of their youth.

However, other people's failures cannot be considered youth; they are simply failures.

If failure is a symbol of youth, then aren't those who can't make friends at the peak of their youth?

However, they probably don't think so.

To put it bluntly, they only choose the interpretations that are advantageous to themselves.

That would be considered deception, wouldn't it?

Lying, deception, concealment, or fraud must all be condemned.

They are evil.

Conversely, those who do not glorify youth are the truly righteous ones.

The conclusion is:

May all of reality explode!

Chapter 1 Anyway, Hachiman Hikigaya just has a dead fish eye look

My Chinese teacher, Shizuka Hiratsuka, with veins bulging on her forehead, loudly read out my essay.

After listening to it once, I realized that my writing still needed improvement. I felt like an unknown writer whose opportunistic ideas had been exposed, thinking that using more difficult words would make me seem smarter.

So, was it this immature article that got me called over?

No, of course not, I know that perfectly well.

After reading the essay aloud, Ms. Hiratsuka pressed her forehead and sighed deeply.

"Hachiman, do you remember what the essay topic I gave you in class was?"

"...I remember, it was 'High School Life Retrospective'."

"That's right. So why are you submitting a criminal declaration? Are you a terrorist or an idiot?"

Hiratsuka-sensei sighed again, as if she were racking her brains, and then she tossed her hair up.

In this sense, pronouncing "female teacher" as "Onnna-KYOUSHI" is more sexy than pronouncing it as "JYO-KYOUSHI" (in Japanese, the former pronunciation emphasizes gender more).

Thinking about this, I couldn't help but grin mischievously, and the next second I knocked down a whole stack of papers.

Listen carefully.

"Yes."

"Your eyes look like those of a rotting fish."

"Is it rich in DHA? That sounds pretty smart."

Hiratsuka-sensei's lips curled up slightly.

"Hachiman, what's with this messy essay? I'll listen to your excuse."

The teacher glared at me fiercely. She was quite beautiful, but her gaze was so sharp that it almost made me breathless; it was terrifying.

"N-no, I've been reminiscing about my high school days. Aren't all high school students like this these days? I didn't make a mistake!"

I was so scared that I could barely speak. After all, I get nervous when talking to people normally, let alone when the other person is an older woman.

"These kinds of questions are meant to make you reflect on your high school life."

"Please explain this clearly beforehand, teacher. I will definitely write it obediently. This is an oversight on the teacher's part in setting the question."

"You little rascal, stop talking nonsense."

"Kid? Judging from the teacher's age, I am indeed a kid."

At this time, a gust of wind blew.

It's a fist.

A straight punch came without warning, beautifully grazing my cheek.

"The next punch won't miss."

The teacher's eyes were very serious.

"I'm sorry, I will rewrite it."

I decided to express my remorse and repentance.

However, Ms. Hiratsuka didn't seem very satisfied. Oh no, do I have to kneel down and apologize? I straightened my trousers, smoothed out the wrinkles, bent my right leg, and prepared to kneel down, every gesture and movement elegant and decisive.

"I'm not angry."

Ah... here it comes again, that phrase.

People who say things like that are the most troublesome, just like those who say, "Tell me the truth, I won't get angry." But in all my years, I've never met anyone who truly doesn't get angry.

Surprisingly, Ms. Hiratsuka didn't seem angry at all; at least, she wasn't upset about anything unrelated to her age. I straightened my half-bent right knee and secretly observed her expression.

Ms. Hiratsuka took out a pack of Seven Stars cigarettes from her nearly bursting chest pocket, tapped the filter on the table like a middle-aged man. After stuffing the cigarettes back in, she lit them with a 100-yen lighter with a "click," exhaled smoke, and finally looked at me with a serious expression.

"You don't participate in club activities, do you?"

"no."

"...Do you have any friends?"

When she asked the question, she had already made the premise that I had no friends.

"I value fairness highly, so I don't want to develop close relationships with certain individuals!"

"So, you don't have any friends?"

"To put it simply, there isn't..."

Upon hearing my answer, Hiratsuka-sensei immediately became energized.

"Really? You really don't have any friends! I knew it! The moment I saw those dead fish eyes of yours, I understood!"

You think you can understand just by looking into my eyes? Then don't ask anymore!

Ms. Hiratsuka nodded repeatedly to show her understanding, then looked at my face and asked tactfully:

"...So, do you have a girlfriend or anything like that?"

What does "like" mean? If I told you I have a boyfriend, what would you do?

Not yet.

I have hope for the future, so I deliberately emphasize "the present".

"oh……"

This time, the teacher's eyes seemed a little teary; I hope it's from the cigarette smoke. Hey, don't do that! Don't look at me with those loving, gentle eyes!

That said, what exactly happened? Is she some kind of passionate teacher? Will she eventually scold her students like rotten oranges or something? Or does she want to go back to that "passionate school" (a veiled reference to Japanese dramas about teachers)? If so, I hope she goes back soon.

After pondering for a moment, Hiratsuka-sensei exhaled a puff of smoke mixed with a sigh.

"Okay, that's settled then. Rewrite the essay."

"Yes."

Sure enough.

Okay, this time I'll write something very predictable, like a gravure idol or voice actress's blog post saying, "Tonight's dinner revealed... it's curry!" What's so surprising about that? There's absolutely no element of surprise.

Up to this point, things were still within my expectations, but what happened next was beyond my control.

"However, your careless remark and attitude have deeply hurt me. Has no one taught you that you shouldn't casually mention your age to women? Therefore, I require you to participate in the 'service activity'; wrongdoing should be punished."

Ms. Hiratsuka seemed to be in high spirits, even more so than usual, making it hard to believe that she was truly hurt inside.

I suddenly realized that the word "勃发" sounds a bit like "波霸" (bo ba)... I started to escape reality and looked at the teacher's full breasts that were pushing up her shirt.

This is terrible... But Hiratsuka-sensei is really strange, why would she be happy to punish her students?

"What does 'serving others' involve?"

I asked timidly. In this situation, I always felt that she would ask me to clean the ditch or force me to be a kidnapper or something.

"follow me."

The teacher shoved his cigarette into the ashtray, which was piled high with ashes, and then stood up. Without any explanation or clarification, I stood there, stunned. But the teacher turned back at the door and urged me on:

"Hey, hurry up!"

Hiratsuka-sensei raised her eyebrows and glared at me, so I quickly chased after her.

× × ×

The shape of the school building at Chiba Municipal Sobu High School is somewhat unusual.

Viewed from above, the school buildings resemble the Chinese character "口" (mouth). With several multimedia buildings below, the view becomes an aerial perspective of the school.

The passageway is flanked by a classroom building and a special building, with corridors connecting the two buildings on their second floors, forming a quadrilateral.

The open space surrounded by the square school buildings is the central courtyard, a sacred place filled with the vast reality.

When lunch break arrived, the boys and girls would come to the courtyard together to have lunch and then play badminton to help with digestion; in the evening after school, they would talk about love, enjoy the sea breeze and watch the stars against the backdrop of the school buildings.

It's simply too much!

To an outsider, these people seemed to be trying to act out a teen idol drama, which was disheartening, while I played the role of "Tree".

Ms. Hiratsuka left "clack, clack" footsteps on the waxed floor; she seemed to be heading to a special building.

—I have a bad feeling.

After all, there's never anything good to be found in ministry activities.

The word "serve" doesn't appear casually in everyday life; it's only used in certain special situations, such as a maid serving her master. If it were that kind of service, I'd definitely raise my hands and say "Let's party!", but such a thing doesn't exist in reality… Correction, it can be done if you're willing to pay some money. However, if you can enjoy yourself simply by paying, forget about dreams and hopes. In short, serving is not a good thing.

Moreover, we've come to a special building. We're here to either help move the piano in the music room, tidy up the trash in the biology room, or clean up the library's collection. I'd better set up a line of defense first.

"Ah, I have some back problems... I think it's called something like 'herpes'?"

"You mean a hernia, right? Don't worry, I'm not asking you to do hard labor."

Hiratsuka-sensei said to me with a disdainful expression.

Hmm, would it be paperwork like data checking? In some ways, that kind of tedious work is more tiring than manual labor, like being tortured by filling a hole and then digging it open again.

"I have a disease that causes me to die as soon as I walk into the classroom."

"Are you that long-nosed sniper? From the Straw Hat Pirates?"

You read shonen manga?

Fine, I don't mind working hard alone anyway. As long as I turn off the switch in my mind and tell myself I'm a machine, that's enough. If things continue like this, I might end up pursuing a mechanized body, and eventually even become a screw (a reference to the manga "Galaxy Express 999").