My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 29

That's right, that's what I wanted to say. Strong enough beasts don't need to travel in packs. Haven't you heard of "a lone wolf on the horizon"?

Cats are cute, wolves are cool, so the lone wolf is both cute and cool.

As I walked, thinking about these utterly pointless things, I arrived at the stairwell platform leading to the roof. It was cluttered with unused tables and chairs, and the passageway was so narrow that only one person could pass at a time.

The door leading to the roof usually has a small lock to secure it.

However, the lock was open today, hanging on the door and swinging back and forth.

It's probably those mischievous guys from class again, flirting on the roof. Idiot and Smoke always seem to love going up high. Might as well lock them up there. So, I moved three tables and two chairs to block the doorway. Yeah, I'm still the same old me—decisive and action-oriented, a real man! Ahhh, come hug me!

However, I also noticed that it was unusually quiet on the other side of the door.

There's a problem. As far as I know, those materialistic men and women are most afraid of silence, as much as wild animals are afraid of fire. They think silence is boring, and they don't want to face the reality that they're boring. They desperately try to talk, make noise, and laugh, but when they talk to me, they use silence to tell me "you're boring." What does that silence mean...? No, no, no, don't misunderstand, I actually prefer silence and quiet.

The rooftop was so quiet; it seemed that it wasn't those people up there, or perhaps there wasn't anyone on the roof at all.

The thought of being alone there immediately energized me, a loner. It's definitely not a case of "a dragon at home, a worm outside"; I just don't want to bother anyone.

I moved the desks and chairs that I had just piled up, preparing to open the door leading to the roof.

A surge of excitement welled up inside me. This unique thrill was something I could only experience when I was alone. It was like walking into a soba noodle shop at a train station for the first time, or deliberately going to a bookstore in Yotsukaido City (Note 1: a city located in northern Chiba Prefecture) far from Chiba City to buy book A.

Upon opening the gate, the blue sky and the distant horizon immediately come into view.

In an instant, this rooftop became my own secret hideout.

The wealthy always dream of owning their own jet and beach. A lone wolf like me, with endless private time, can be considered a winner in life. In other words, being a lone wolf is a symbol of status.

On rainy days, when it doesn't rain, the sky is truly clear, as if telling me that one day I will definitely be able to escape this closed world. If I were to use an old movie analogy, it would probably be "The Shawshank Redemption." Although I haven't seen that movie, judging from the title, it should be that kind of feeling (Note 2: The Japanese title of the film is a direct translation of "Sharkskin Sky").

Gazing at the clouds drifting into the distance is like focusing on one's own future. Therefore, if you're looking for a place to entrust your dreams to a workplace internship survey, this rooftop is absolutely perfect.

After the school's regular exams, a workplace visit was scheduled. I wrote extensively on the survey form about my desired career, the type of workplace I hoped to intern at, and my reasons. For someone who has already planned their future, there was no reason to hesitate. I finished the survey in less than two minutes.

Just then, a gust of wind suddenly arose from nowhere. This fateful wind, as if to carry away the languid atmosphere after school, lifted the paper that held dreams, transforming it into a paper airplane flying towards the future.

This description might sound poetic, but that piece of paper is undoubtedly the survey form I just filled out. Hey! Don't let this gust of wind ruin things!

The survey form seemed to be playing a trick on me; it was drifting along the ground with the wind, but just as I was about to catch up, it suddenly flew high into the sky.

...Never mind, I'll just get a new survey form and rewrite it. My motto is "If you can't force it, give up," so I won't waver over something so trivial. If I had to add anything, I'd say: "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."

I shrugged, and was about to turn around when—

"Is this yours?"

—Suddenly I heard a voice.

The voice was a little hoarse and languid. I looked around, searching for the person, but couldn't see a soul. Although I'm usually alone, this wasn't the case. Besides myself, there was really no one else on this rooftop.

"Where are you looking?"

A weak, feeble voice drifted down from above, as if mocking me, and then it dawned on me. This must be what it meant to be high above. There was a protruding section on the roof; climbing the ladder to the top would lead to the water tower.

The man was leaning against the water tower, looking down at me.

She was fiddling with a cheap lighter in her hand. When her eyes met mine, she stuffed the lighter into her uniform pocket.

The girl's hair was black with a bluish tinge, almost as long as her height; her neckline was open, no bow tie was tied, and the excess fabric at the hem of her clothes was loosely knotted; her long legs appeared nimble. Furthermore, her eyes seemed to gaze aimlessly into the distance, lacking vitality, and the beauty mark under her eye exuded a sense of weariness.

"Is this yours?"

She asked again, her tone unchanged. I didn't know what year she was in, so I nodded instead of answering. After all, if she were a senior, I would have to use polite language; but if I got it wrong, wouldn't that be embarrassing? So, no matter when or where, remaining silent is always the safest option.

"……Wait me a moment."

She sighed and slid down the ladder, holding onto the handle.

At this moment--

Another gust of wind blew. This fateful wind seemed poised to lift the heavy, low-hanging curtain of night. A piece of land that held beauty...

The fabric of dreams fluttered in the divine wind, like an ever-burning flame.

This description seems quite poetic. Anyway, I saw her underwear. Hey, good job!

She let go halfway down the slope, landing with a thud. She glanced at the survey form before handing it back to me.

"...Are you an idiot?"

Then, she rudely handed me the survey form, almost throwing it at me. After I took the form, she turned and disappeared towards the school building.

I didn't even have time to say "thank you," "why did you call me an idiot," or "I'm sorry for seeing your underwear," before I was left standing there all alone.

I could only hold the survey form returned to me with one hand and scratch my head with the other.

Just then, the loudspeaker on the roof emitted the sound of a bell signaling the end of the lunch break.

So I turned back and walked towards the rooftop door.

"Black lace..."

One day, this murmur, which is neither a sigh nor a flirtatious breath, will probably be carried by the summer breeze carrying the scent of the sea and spread to all parts of the world.

Hikigaya Komachi

komachi hikigaya

birthday

November 3st

Specialty

She is very flexible, cooks, and takes care of her older brother.

interest

Saving money and playing pranks on her brother.

Holiday activities

She takes care of the cat and keeps her older brother company, who stays at home all day.

Saki Kawasaki

saki kawasaki

birthday

November 26st

Specialty

Craftsmanship.

interest

Make knitted dolls.

Holiday activities

Working part-time and keeping company with my younger siblings.

Workplace Internship Survey

Zongwu Senior High School, Class 2F

Hikigaya Hachiman

1. Desired occupation:

househusband

2. Workplaces you would like to visit:

my home

3. Please explain your reasoning:

As the old saying goes, "If you're not serious about work, you've already lost."

Labor is an act of taking risks in order to obtain rewards. In conclusion, the ultimate goal of labor is to obtain the greatest reward with the least risk.

Young girls, or little girls, say things like "I want to be a bride someday" not because it's cute, but because of a biological instinct.

Therefore, I believe that the choice of "staying at home without working" is appropriate, even correct. Thus, for this workplace internship, I hope to visit the workplace of a stay-at-home dad, which is his own home.

Volume 2, Part 1: Therefore, Yui Yuigahama decided to start studying.

One corner of the faculty and staff offices is designated as a meeting area, furnished with a black leather sofa and a glass table, separating it from the other areas. Looking out the windows of the meeting area, one can see the campus library.

A refreshing early summer breeze blew in through the open window, and a piece of paper fluttered up with it.

I was captivated by this poignant scene, my gaze following the piece of paper, wondering where the wind would carry it. Then, like a teardrop falling silently, the paper drifted lightly and helplessly to the ground.

At that moment, a shoe heel made a "thud" sound, firmly nailing the paper to the ground with tremendous force.

Those were long, beautiful legs. Even covered by tight pants, their length and beauty were still evident. To look good in pants, one's figure must be absolutely perfect. With a skirt, one can add sexiness by showing off the legs or wearing stockings; but with pants that conceal those charms, it's easy to look dowdy and lacking in style. Even with a slender figure, without a pair of toned yet shapely legs, pants cannot fulfill their purpose and may even look unattractive.

However, the trousers that appeared before me were different. The legs were so well-proportioned that even the golden ratio wouldn't be an exaggeration.

And it's not just her legs, her slender waist also has a smooth curve, all the way up to her full breasts... Wow, have I arrived at Mount Fuji?

From her feet to her chest, her figure is like a violin, and not just any violin, but a perfect one, like the finest violin, Stradivarius.

The problem is that the owner of this body has a very terrifying face, almost like the Vajra Rikishi statue made by Unkei and Kaikei (Note 3: both were famous Buddhist statue makers in Kamakura period, Japan). It is quite frightening from an artistic, cultural, and historical perspective.

Mr. Hiratsuka, who teaches Chinese literature, glared at me fiercely with a cigarette filter dangling from his lips, his expression saying, "I'm trying to hold back my temper."

"Hachiman, you know what I'm going to say, right?"

"Uh, well..."

I couldn't bear the teacher's wide-eyed gaze, so I gave a vague answer and looked away.

The next second, Ms. Hiratsuka tightened her grip starting from her right pinky finger. The mere movement caused her knuckles to crack and pop.

"...Or are you going to answer 'I don't know'?"

"You've misunderstood! Of course I know! I just meant to say 'I know this'! I'll rewrite it obediently, please don't hit me!"

"Of course it needs to be rewritten. Honestly... I thought you'd made some changes."

"Because my philosophy is to stay true to my original intention."

I gave a "Yay!♪" smile. Then, it sounded like something snapping from around Hiratsuka-sensei's temple.

"So, it really does take a beating with fists... Whether it's a TV or anything else, the fastest way to solve it is with fists."

"No, no, you can't compare me to that kind of precision machine. Besides, TVs these days are getting thinner and thinner, they can't withstand too much force. It seems that the teacher's age is indeed similar to ours—"

"The first punch of impact!"

Thump! The teacher shouted with great momentum before making his move, but when his fist pierced my abdomen, it only made a small "thump".

"...Ugh!"

I desperately pulled my fading consciousness back, and looked up to see Hiratsuka-sensei's malicious smile.

"If you don't want to take my second punch that will annihilate you, stop talking nonsense."

"I'm so sorry... but please skip the final, decisive blow."

After I readily apologized, Ms. Hiratsuka sat down contentedly, the chair creaking softly. Perhaps because of my apology, she seemed refreshed and radiant. Although her usual demeanor was truly unapproachable, making it easy to forget that she was actually a great beauty.

"'Super Power Rangers' is a great anime, and thankfully you, Hachiman, immediately understood my joke."

Please allow me to correct myself. It seems she was only happy because someone understood the subject matter she was using. This kind of personality is indeed hard to deal with.

I recently finally figured out what my teacher's interests are: simply put, watching really exciting anime and manga. Unfortunately, this kind of trivia is incredibly boring, and it wastes some of my brainpower.

"Well then, Hachiman, just to be on the safe side, let me ask you this: what exactly are you trying to achieve by writing this nonsensical answer?"

"What do you want...?"

Logically, when someone asks you a question, you should answer them. However, I've already written down all the answers I can on that survey form without reservation. If the teacher still can't understand after reading it... I don't know what to do.

Hiratsuka-sensei seemed to read my mind, exhaling white smoke as she looked at me and said:

"Although I already knew you had a strange personality, I thought you would grow up at least a little. It seems the Service Club hasn't had much of an impact on you."

"Yes……"

I tried to recall what Hiratsuka-sensei had said about my time in the "Service Club." If I had to sum up what the club did in one sentence, it was to listen to students' troubles and help them solve them. But frankly, it was just an isolation ward, a place where people who couldn't integrate into school life gathered together. I was asked to help other students to correct my awkward personality and deadpan expression, but I didn't really do anything special, so I didn't feel much of a sense of belonging. If I had to give an example… well, Hiratsuka is really cute, that's all.

"Hachiman... your eyes have suddenly turned into dead fish eyes, and wipe your drool off."