My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 313

I briefly explained the location of my home, and Mr. Hiratsuka nodded and turned the steering wheel. Driving along the national highway is the shortest route home from here.

However, I soon realized from the headlights that the car was not heading towards the national highway.

I looked at Ms. Hiratsuka with a puzzled expression. She had a cigarette dangling from her lips, exhaled a puff of smoke, and looked ahead as she said:

"You don't mind taking a slightly longer route, do you?"

"oh……"

Since I was taking the teacher's car home, I had no reason to complain. Even though I didn't know where the teacher planned to go, I was just glad I got home eventually.

I leaned back in my seat, resting my cheek on my hand by the car window. It seemed a little foggy outside, and the receding streetlights were tinged with an orange hue.

A gentle, warm breeze blew past my feet, making my cold body feel much better. I yawned several times in a row.

Ms. Hiratsuka didn't say anything, just hummed a little tune. Her soft breathing, paired with the slow melody, was like a lullaby for a child, and I naturally closed my eyes. With the smooth driving, the sports car only vibrated slightly, and I felt as if I were sitting in a cradle.

An unknown destination, a nighttime drive.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, the sports car finally came to a slow stop.

Looking out the car window, all I could see were streetlights arranged at equal intervals, and the headlights of oncoming vehicles. We were still on the road.

We're here.

After saying that, Professor Hiratsuka opened the door and got out of the car. I wondered where we were, and then I opened the car door as well.

Soon, I smelled the sea; looking ahead, I saw the lights emanating from a new urban center. I immediately realized that Tokyo Bay was not far away, and this was a bridge at the mouth of Tokyo Bay, which, in the minds of Sobu High School students, was also the turning point for the annual marathon in February. I clearly remember feeling a little disdainful when I saw the bridge railings covered with graffiti left by couples.

After we stepped onto the path, Professor Hiratsuka tossed me a can of coffee. I almost missed catching it because of the dim lighting. The coffee was still warm in my hand.

The teacher leaned against the car, a cigarette dangling from his lips, pulling the tab on his coffee with one hand. I think I'm a little fascinated by that gesture.

"He looks very handsome."

"Because I'm deliberately trying to look cool."

It was just a little joke, but the teacher responded with a cold laugh. Ugh! That expression was so cool, I thought!

Feeling awkward staring at Hiratsuka-sensei, I shifted my gaze to the sea.

The sea was pitch black at night, and in the dim light, I could vaguely see the ripples on the water. The surface looked quite soft, as if once it sank, it would never rise again.

I stared at the sea for a long time before Hiratsuka-sensei finally spoke:

"How's the situation?"

The question lacks context, making it impossible for me to know what the teacher wanted to know. However, judging from the timing, she was probably asking about the preparations for the Christmas activities.

"The outlook is not optimistic."

"……Um."

Hiratsuka-sensei turned away, exhaled a puff of smoke, and then turned her face back.

"What's so pessimistic?"

"When the teacher asks this, it's difficult for me to give a general answer..."

"You answer first."

"Oh, well..."

I started thinking about where to begin.

First and foremost, the biggest problem right now is the lack of time. With only seven days left, I really don't see any possibility of the situation improving.

Next, a secondary issue is the primary cause of the lack of time: our approach to organizing events. Tamakatsuki prioritizes listening to others' opinions, while Isshiki relentlessly seeks their input. With these two at the center, no amount of time is ever enough.

To break through this predicament, it would require another person to implement sweeping reforms, or for both of them to change their mindset. But either way, the feasibility is very low.

Apart from Yu Sheng and Yi Se, no one else held sufficient weight; I was merely participating in the activity under the guise of providing assistance.

It's inconvenient for them to try and show off in front of the student council. The student council officers probably also want to follow the president's instructions.

As for Isshoku and Yusei, whether or not to change their views is also a question.

Both of these individuals are newly appointed student council presidents, so their lack of experience is understandable. Their real problem lies in their lack of leadership vision. I see no way they will lead the team to success; failure, however, is clearly foreseeable. For a student council president to have such a significant first task—not only co-organizing with other schools but also on a large scale extending to surrounding areas—they must be very worried about the event's failure.

It's not unusual to stumble and fall hard on your first time on a big stage. There's a saying, "Failure is also an accumulation of experience," but that's just the cynical talk of outsiders. For me, failure will likely be a painful memory.

Spectators in the stands might say, "Just try harder next time," or "Everyone fails sometimes." However, not everything offers a second chance; the shadow cast by one failure can lead to another. In fact, saying "It's okay to fail" is extremely irresponsible. The only one who must bear the responsibility for failure is the one who fails.

Anyone with a modicum of imagination can easily understand the principle that "failure is unacceptable." Yu Sheng and Isshiki should also belong to this group of people.

Therefore, they seek and adopt the opinions of others in order to deflect the responsibility they must bear when they fail.

Of course, they wouldn't say to each other's faces, "It's all because you suggested this," but would secretly comfort themselves in their hearts.

From reporting to notification to discussion to coordination to confirmation, more and more people are involved, precisely to lessen their own responsibility. When the perception that "this is everyone's failure" and "everyone must share the responsibility" takes hold, everyone's psychological burden will be reduced.

They seek advice from others because they cannot guarantee all responsibilities.

This is precisely why the preparations have stalled. Who should be the vanguard? Who should bear the greatest responsibility? Failing to clarify this issue is itself a significant mistake.

"It's something like this..."

I'm not sure if I explained myself clearly, but at least I expressed my thoughts without reservation.

Mr. Hiratsuka listened patiently from beginning to end without saying a word. Only after I had finished speaking did he nod with a troubled expression.

"...You observe very carefully. You are very good at interpreting people's psychology."

Actually, that's not the case. This is just my imagination; if I were in that position, I'd probably think the same way—just as I was about to speak, Ms. Hiratsuka raised her index finger to stop me. She gazed into my eyes and slowly said:

"But you don't understand human emotions."

That sentence hit the nail on the head. I almost forgot to breathe; my mouth couldn't make a sound, I couldn't even catch my breath. I, Hachiman Hikigaya, finally understood what was going on that I had never tried to understand before.

Long ago, some people reminded me to be more considerate of other people's feelings; others criticized me for understanding so many things but not other people's feelings.

I was speechless for a long time. Then, Mr. Hiratsuka stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and told me:

"Psychology and emotion cannot always be equated. Sometimes, this is why we arrive at seemingly irrational conclusions... Therefore, including Yukinoshita, Yui, and you, you will arrive at the wrong answers."

"...Wait a minute, what do they have to do with this?"

The sudden appearance of those names caught me off guard. I don't want to mention them or think about them right now. Ms. Hiratsuka glared at me.

"What I wanted to ask in the first place was about them."

Her voice sounded unhappy, and after speaking, she lit another cigarette. Indeed, the teacher's previous question didn't explicitly state the subject; I simply assumed she was asking about Christmas activities.

"However, in essence, there is no difference. The root of the problem is the same, and that is—the heart."

She exhaled a puff of smoke, which stretched into an abstract shape before quickly dissolving into the air.

Heart, feelings, and thoughts —

The smoke had long since dissipated, but I still stared at that spot, as if I could still see a trace of it.

This is, of course, just wishful thinking; I saw nothing. I thought I was considering other people's feelings, but I only saw the surface; I assumed what was merely speculation to be true and acted accordingly. How is this any different from self-satisfaction?

So for a long time, I knew almost nothing.

"But these aren't things that can be understood simply by thinking, are they?"

If it's something to think about in terms of advantages and disadvantages, risks and rewards, then I can understand it.

Behavioral psychology stemming from common ugly emotions such as desire, self-preservation, jealousy, and hatred can be extrapolated. In my mind, there are countless examples of these ugly emotions, making them easy to imagine. Things of similar nature still leave room for understanding and can be explained theoretically.

Conversely, it is extremely difficult.

Human thought, unaffected by physical damage and beyond the realm of theory, is extremely difficult to imagine. There are very few clues available for reference, and besides, I have already made far too many mistakes.

Whether it's affection, friendship, or love, these things will always lead to misunderstandings. Whenever I think "it must be like this," I always end up finding that I've misunderstood again.

Receiving text messages from the other person, accidental physical contact, smiles when eye contact occurs in class, hearing gossip that someone likes me, sitting next to each other and talking often, always going home from school at the same time... I have long lost count of how many times I have misunderstood.

Even if... even if it is correct, the result will still not change.

I'm not sure I can hold onto that belief forever. Even if I remove all the factors of sound judgment and set up all the obstacles I can think of, I still wouldn't dare say that such an idea is "real."

There is no standard answer to anything that is constantly changing. Trying to find the answer is impossible.

After hearing what I said, Hiratsuka-sensei smiled slightly, then gave me a stern look.

"Can't understand? Then keep thinking. Since you can only calculate slowly, exhaust all possible calculations. List all the possible answers, then eliminate them one by one using the elimination method. The last one left is your answer."

The teacher's eyes were full of fervor, but what he said was a fallacy—no, it didn't even qualify as a theory.

What she meant was that since I only know how to use reason and calculation to infer people's hearts, then I should see through everything, exhaust all calculations, and use elimination to filter out all conceivable possibilities.

This is a huge, inefficient, and time-consuming project, and there's no guarantee we'll get an answer in the end. I was so shocked that my mind went blank, and I couldn't even speak properly.

"...That doesn't necessarily mean you'll understand, does it?"

"That means there's a problem with the calculation process, or something was missed. We need to recalculate it."

The teacher answered with a joking expression but a serious demeanor. Seeing her so matter-of-fact attitude, I couldn't help but let out a dry laugh.

"It's too hard..."

"Fool. If emotions could be calculated, they would have been computerized long ago... The answer that remains, which cannot be calculated, is precisely people's emotions."

She spoke in a loud tone, but her voice was very gentle.

As Professor Hiratsuka said, I also believe that there are some things in the world that cannot be calculated. Even if we try to calculate them, they will probably be like pi or infinite decimals, never to be completely divided.

But this doesn't mean giving up on thinking. If you don't get the answer, you should continue thinking. This is definitely not an easy path, but a thorny one.

Just imagining it sent chills down my spine, and I couldn't help but pull my coat collar tighter. Professor Hiratsuka glanced at me and chuckled softly.

"Sigh, I always make calculation mistakes, that's why I haven't been able to get married... I just attended a friend's wedding... Haha."

Whenever I see her with that self-deprecating smile, I always say something joking and disrespectful.

However, I'm not joking today.

"No, I think the other party just has no taste."

"Huh...why, why are you suddenly saying that...?"

The teacher was greatly surprised by this statement, stammered for a while, and then turned her face away.

This isn't just polite talk. If I had been born ten years earlier and met this person ten years earlier, I would probably have fallen head over heels for her—of course, this hypothetical scenario is meaningless.

Even I found my imagination ridiculous and couldn't help but laugh. Ms. Hiratsuka laughed happily too. After a while, she cleared her throat.

"Well, okay... although it's not exactly a thank you, I'll give you a special hint."

The teacher's smile faded, replaced by a sincere expression as she looked at me, speaking in a reassuring tone. I straightened my back, looked directly at her, and signaled to her with my eyes that I was ready to listen attentively. Then, she slowly began to speak:

"When you're thinking, don't get the focus wrong."

"Yes……"

The hint was too abstract, and I only half understood it, or rather, it was as if I hadn't heard it at all. The teacher noticed this on my face and pondered for a long time.

"Hmm... For example, think about why you helped Isshiki in your personal capacity instead of as a member of the Service Club? You did it for your club, or perhaps for Yukinoshita."

The teacher's example was abrupt, and the unexpected appearance of her name startled me. I reflexively looked at her. She had a wry smile on her face.

"Isn't it obvious at a glance? After the student council election, Yukino came to report the results to me... Even though she didn't mention her own case, seeing her expression, I had a pretty good idea of ​​what was going on. You probably think so too, right?"

“Hmm… well…”

I used meaningless sounds to buy myself time to think, but Professor Hiratsuka continued talking without waiting for my reply.

"If you share the same thought, it means you're not letting them participate in order not to hurt them... This is just one possibility, take it as an example."

"...Yes, that's certainly a possibility."

I told myself that the teacher was just giving an example, that this was just a case study, and that her ideas might not necessarily match the actual situation.

The teacher nodded, as if seeking my approval.

"However, in this situation, the question we should be thinking about is not that, but rather, 'Why don't we want to hurt them?' The answer is actually quite obvious—because we cherish them, we don't want to hurt them."

She gazed into my eyes and uttered those last words. I knew I couldn't refute her, nor could I look away even an inch.

The streetlights cast an orange-red glow on Hiratsuka-sensei's face, while the headlights of passing cars occasionally brushed against her with white light. With a slightly melancholy expression, she whispered in a warm and gentle voice:

"But, Hachiman, that's impossible. As long as humans exist in this world, they will inevitably hurt others unintentionally. Not just while alive, but even after death, the harm continues. Relationships with others inevitably lead to harm; even if you deliberately avoid relationships, you can't guarantee that the other person won't get hurt..."

Hiratsuka-sensei took out a cigarette, looked at it, and continued:

"That's the point, but if the other person wasn't important to us at all, we wouldn't even realize the harm we've caused. The key is 'self-awareness.' It's precisely because we cherish the other person that we realize we've hurt them."