My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 676

I thought our discussion would go on forever. However, nothing in this world is permanent.

The end is drawing near, finally—

"Is the timber base finished...?"

"Okay, that's it..."

Coincidentally, it happened the day before our home-based wedding. In Saizeriya, a place we'd visited countless times.

Looking at the completed project proposal, we couldn't help but shake hands firmly.

That way, Hiratsuka-sensei will surely come to her senses...

"Alright, let's go, Hachiman! This thing! This light! It's me! And you! The light ... Ah. Sorry, that was too loud, wasn't it? I'll be careful."

The cool lines shouted by the woodworker, who was at the peak of his excitement, made the surrounding customers and staff frown.

And so, the day of the home-based wedding finally arrived.

The three of us met in front of a rented building somewhere in the city that served as the meeting venue.

"Then I'm leaving..."

"Teacher, please keep going!"

May your military prowess flourish.

Zaimokuza and I said this to Hiratsuka-sensei as he walked toward the rental building.

Ms. Hiratsuka didn't turn around to look at us; she just silently gave us a thumbs up. Her back showed no trace of the past lamentations of "I really want to get married..."

Their unwavering focus on the future and their forward march touched our hearts.

"Is this really the answer you came up with?"

Last night, after reading our project proposal, Ms. Hiratsuka asked us a serious question. We nodded vigorously.

"...Is that so? Then I'll believe you too."

The three of us, who had been troubled by this for several days, burst into laughter, as if none of those things had ever happened.

The three of us were exhausted. Perhaps it was because our tense nerves finally relaxed that our emotions exploded all at once.

No problem, everything will go smoothly.

We watched as Professor Hiratsuka walked into the rental building and began her journey home.

Without thinking, I reached into my pocket, crumpled up the proposal we had compiled together, and put it inside.

I silently opened it and looked at it again.

These words were written on it.

Q: Is this a prank?

A: No, this is Hiratsuka Shizuka's final form.

"……………………………………………………………………"

I crumpled the proposal into a ball again and threw it into a nearby trash can.

Yes, garbage sorting is very important. Let's protect our planet!

"Never mind that for now," I said unintentionally.

"This...this...this...this isn't just my responsibility..."

The lesson I learned this time is: never believe the conclusions drawn by someone who has stayed up for three nights in a row.

……after.

"Hachiman Hachiman—‼Zuimoto-za—‼Are you ready?!"

Needless to say, Hiratsuka-sensei was furious beyond anything he had ever done and punished us, so I won't say any more.

"Sigh... I really want to get married..."

Hiratsuka-sensei's soliloquy, mixed with the distant chirping of cicadas, sounded very sad.

Finish

Note 5 is taken from the line "King Arthur doesn't understand people's hearts" in Fate/stay night.

6. Note: This refers to an online forum operated by the Japanese newspaper Yomiuri Shimbun.

7. Kurapika's ability in Hunter x Hunter: He can insert his weapon into the heart of his opponent; if the opponent breaks the agreement, they will die from having their heart constricted.

Note 8 and Commander Ikari mentioned below are both characters from "Neon Genesis Evangelion".

All nine entries are Japanese music producers.

10 notes on the moves of Kazuma, the protagonist of the comic book "Super Soldier".

A character from the anime series *Macross Frontier*. Her personal theme song is "Interstellar Flight".

12 Japanese manga with the theme of loan sharking.

Note 13 refers to the Japanese variety show "It's Noon Now!" (ヒルナンデス！).

Japanese entertainer Tomoko Nakajima is rumored to have been brainwashed by a fortune teller.

Short Story Collection 4: Allstars - To Hachiman Ten Years Later

Author: Mr. Sagara / Illustration: Yuki

The Yamanote Line train was incredibly stuffy near the last stop.

Needless to say, the end of the year is even more so.

The smell of fried food emanating from his mouth, the cheap and tacky scent of perfume, the sweat trapped under thick clothes, and the odor of fatigue. It was as if these unpleasant smells were mixed with the lingering alcohol residue in the air, clinging to the old leather handrails and armrests.

Whenever I see people using the excuse that it's year-end party season to walk around drinking, I think they're really something. Have you really achieved anything worthy of such recognition? Or have you just done work that people will forget about?

This is just nonsense from a man who has never been invited to the year-end party. Not only have I not forgotten, but I'm the one who's been forgotten. Please understand my feelings.

"...At this age, I'm still an outsider..."

My reflection in the car window in the dead of night looked haggard.

Its dead fish-like eyes looked much fiercer than usual, and it emitted a putrid smell.

The one who contributed most to this polluted air might very well be this thirty-year-old man reflected in the glass window.

I huddled at the very bottom of the carriage, trying not to touch anything, and heard the children's cheers.

"Hey, I wonder what Santa will bring me this year! I can't wait!"

The little girl sitting in the seat held her mother's hand and smiled happily. She was wearing a cute dress with red and green as the main colors.

Oh right, Christmas is this week.

I'd completely forgotten. This is a holiday that has nothing to do with marginalized people. I even considered suing this child for harassing marginalized people, making her embarrass herself in public. But if I did that, I'd be the one embarrassed in public.

"Christmas, Christmas, I'm so happy, so happy!"

Christmas, Christmas, you're so noisy!

I reached into my briefcase to shut out the innocent laughter.

"what……"

It turned out to be something that wasn't an earphone.

It's a postcard.

I was notified to prepare postcards for the class reunion. I found them in my apartment mailbox this morning; I'd been carrying them with me all this time.

I'd completely forgotten about this event, but an accident brought it back to my mind. Adults have so many things they want to forget. A year-end party for one awaits me. Speaking of which, "forgetting" is something you do alone, without the need for others, so holding a year-end party alone is actually more appropriate.

"well……"

I sighed and read the text on the postcard again.

"It's been a long time since we graduated from Soubu High School. I think everyone has found good jobs, built happy families, and is embracing all sorts of changes. How about we take advantage of our tenth graduation anniversary to reconnect after so long?"

What perfectly accurate information.

I firmly believe that everyone is moving forward.

The organizers are probably from the Ministry of Revenue or their faction. They don't object to forming cliques, and they use the magical term "tenth anniversary" to amplify the sense of camaraderie.

There was no other intention.

Therefore, there was neither malice nor goodwill.

I had been putting off all the class reunion messages on messaging apps and social media. They even called my hometown to ask where I was now and sent me a postcard.

Don't you even consider why I'm ignoring you?

Ten years have passed since I graduated from high school. Thinking about it carefully, I've really come a long way.

I have no bad memories of that place; in fact, I miss it.

The Service Society and its members. Even now, their faces remain vivid in my mind when I close my eyes.

That place was the most sacred place in my high school life.

In a world full of mistakes, people who live earnestly stage a youthful romantic comedy that is absolutely no mistake.

I think it's a beautiful story. Although telling it like that sounds like I'm praising myself.

However, precisely because of this—

"...That's incredibly stupid."

I used all my strength to crumple up the class reunion postcards.

They were like that back then.

I would rather die than see this.

The fairy tale has come to an end.

The era of beautiful teen romantic comedies has ended.

We are already living in the oppressive atmosphere of ten years in the future.

The inner loop of the Yamanote Line has a sharp turn on the way from Otsuka Station to Ikebukuro Station.

Living in the metropolis of Tokyo, one cannot afford to be careless for even a moment.

If you stand there unprepared, you'll be thrown off balance by the sudden centrifugal force, and after quickly regaining your footing, you'll be met with a sour look from the person next to you. This kind of thing happens quite often.

In Tokyo, this concrete jungle, causing trouble for others is a heinous crime. It's a harsh natural environment where survival is extremely difficult. Only those who adapt to this environment can survive in this desolate civilized society.

"Just a few more naps and Santa Claus will be here! Jingle bells! Jingle bells! Christmas is almost here!"

I stood firmly on the ground, enduring the centrifugal force I was used to, when in the next instant, the little girl's sharp voice pierced my ears again.

Turning her head, she saw that her mother was dozing off and seemed too weak to comfort the child.

So dangerous.

I'm not referring to children taking the tram at this time.

There are countless reasons why children might go out late at night, such as their parents needing to work and needing to find a place to leave them overnight, their physical condition preventing them from walking in the sunlight, or their use of Greenwich Mean Time instead of Japanese time.

That's not important. I have no interest in other people's educational policies. Our family is our family, and other people's families are other people's families. Marginalized people are creatures with the magnanimity of Gandhi. They adhere to the principle of non-violence, a class that is ignored their entire lives. How pathetic.

The real danger is not the children.

They are the adults around them.

Whenever the little girl sang with great energy, there would be an impatient click of the tongue.

It was obvious that the people in the carriage were getting impatient with the child who broke the unwritten rule of "not causing trouble for others" in the Tokyo jungle.

If this continues, something unexpected might happen.

For example, a dangerous person might complain to a child that he's upset because he was notified of a classmate reunion he didn't want to see, or that he doesn't want to hear this kind of song because he has no plans for Christmas.

...That dangerous person is me, yeah. The idea that marginalized people are magnanimous is a lie. Some people become marginalized precisely because they can't compromise with others.

The car was filled with an atmosphere of impending conflict, like an inflating balloon.

The child, completely unaware, kept singing—

"Christmas, Christmas, I'm so happy, so happy!"