Sato opened up the conversation, and the two started chatting casually.
Yukinoshita Yukino gave him a surprised glance. She seemed puzzled, why would he bother talking to someone like Hikigaya Hachiman, whose eyes looked so… dead?
"So, I guess I should be calling you senpai," Sato said.
"No need. Just call me Hikigaya."
Hachiman scratched his cheek awkwardly. Being called senpai… felt weird. Probably because… no one had ever called him that before.
How pathetic…
Sato observed Hachiman sighing deeply, and asked curiously, "So, what did you do to get dragged here by Hiratsuka-sensei? Must've been something pretty serious."
"Serious? Nah, not really."
Hachiman's signature dead-fish eyes darted around, but his voice was unexpectedly firm. "I just wrote an essay, that's all. And for the record, I don't think I did anything wrong…"
"It was my first day back after being out for weeks!"
He looked up at the sky, utterly dejected. One day back… and he'd fallen straight into the pits of hell.
From the distance, Yukino's icy aura sent a chill through the room.
Sato's curiosity was piqued. He was genuinely surprised.
Just an essay? What did this guy write, a criminal manifesto?
"Curious? Here, take a look…"
Hachiman pulled out a sheet of paper from his commuter bag and handed it to Sato.
"Are you sure?"
"It's nothing special," Hachiman replied. Maybe it was because Sato was one of the few people who'd approached him first, he found himself willing to share more than usual.
Though honestly, even he wasn't sure why.
Sato took the essay and began reading aloud in a soft voice.
All ears perked up in the clubroom.
====
Youth is a lie. It is evil.
Those who claim to enjoy it are deluding themselves and others. They fit the events and environment around them to the youth mold as self-confirmation. They will fit any commonly held interpretations of life events to this mold in the name of youth. To them, lies, secrets, sins and failures are but seeds of spice in their youth. Supposedly, such failures were an indication of youth, then one who has failed to make friends must also be at the height of his youth. But, they would disagree on this point. Everything must fit into their preconstructed mold.
To conclude: Fools who enjoy this thing called "youth," should go and freaking die.
=====
"…"
By the end, Sato's jaw had dropped.
Now he could definitely see why Hiratsuka-sensei claimed Hachiman's worldview was "rotten."
Yukinoshita Yukino's expression turned complicated.
"You… don't have any friends, do you?"
The sudden question pierced through both Hachiman and a certain girl secretly eavesdropping nearby, like a blade.
"Why would you say that?"
Hachiman twitched, his eyes drifting.
"Because no one with friends could've written something like this. I think I finally get what Hiratsuka-sensei's real goal was."
"Goal? What do you mean?"
Sato just smiled silently, making Hachiman want to punch him.
But it wasn't just Hachiman.
Yukinoshita Yukino, too, was someone shrouded in solitude. As her "Snow Woman" nickname implied, her entire being exuded chill. She was the very image of someone isolated and self-contained.
To put it plainly, she probably didn't have friends either.
They were both cut from the same cloth. Deeply lonely people who lacked something fundamental. Though they might claim otherwise, deep down they longed to be understood, even if they kept denying it with words.
But between the two, Yukinoshita was the tougher case. Her cold, aloof aura made her difficult to approach.
Yet unknowingly, she had left behind a weakness - the Service Club.
If Hiratsuka's "assignment" was to fix Hachiman's twisted mindset, there was no way Yukinoshita wouldn't be changed by the process as well.
Two birds with one stone.
Sato chuckled internally. Hiratsuka-sensei really was a master planner—this was all part of her scheme.
"Oh right, are you fully healed now?"
"Yeah, completely... wait, what?"
Suddenly, Hachiman looked at Sato in disbelief.
How did he know?!
All he'd mentioned earlier was that he'd been recovering, not that he was injured.
Sato smiled playfully. "I just happened to be there that day…"
Hachiman's eyes widened in shock.
And Yukinoshita's did too.
A flicker of panic flashed through her expression. Somewhere deep in her memory, she remembered a fleeting moment, that pair of eyes that had met hers.
It was him?!
She took a quiet breath and forced herself to stay calm.
"You saw…?"
Hachiman looked flustered.
"Well, when someone gets hurt saving a dog, it's the kind of wholesome content that just begs to be seen. It's like the universe demands you witness it, and afterward… you feel spiritually enlightened."
Sato's expression twisted slightly.
"…Are you mocking me?"
"Not at all. You're overthinking it."
"Tch."
Hachiman muttered under his breath, clearly not buying it.
Still, when he thought back on it, he realized how reckless he'd been. It was an impulsive move and incredibly dangerous.
If given the choice again, he probably wouldn't have done it.
Sure, he seemed gloomy, but he wasn't suicidal. If he really died, someone would be sad, right?
At the very least, Komachi would cry. And for the record, Komachi is the cutest little sister in the world.
Despite his decayed outward appearance, Hachiman was an undeniable siscon. If not for societal ethics, his greatest wish might've been to marry his sister.
A small smile crept across Hachiman's lips.
What the...
Sato blinked in surprise. This guy… can smile?
Though honestly… it wasn't a very charming one.
After chatting with Hachiman for a while, Sato returned to the Light Music Club's side.
Even though they all shared the same clubroom, the two groups felt worlds apart. Occasionally they'd exchange a few words, but mostly they kept to themselves, like oil and water.
Two worlds, sitting in quiet tension.