My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected / My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected

What a depressing skill. I almost wanted to cry.

"Uwah..."

Yuihama actually staggered back several steps, her face turning pale.

"Hikigaya-kun, can I have a word..."

Yukino tugged at my sleeve and leaned close to whisper in my ear.

"What's this Sword General he mentioned?"

Her cute face was right in front of me, and I could even smell her fragrance.

Too bad her question wasn't romantic in the slightest.

This could be answered in one sentence.

"That's chuunibyou. Chuunibyou."

"Chuunibyou?"

Yukino looked at me in confusion. At that moment, I suddenly realized that the shape girls' lips made when saying "chuu" was ridiculously cute. What a discovery.

"Is it some kind of illness?"

Yuihama, who had been listening nearby, joined the conversation.

"Not an actual illness. Think of it as a buzzword."

Chuunibyou referred to the headache-inducing words and behavior students around their second year of middle school often displayed.

As for Zaimokuza, he had reached the level of "chuunibyou"—pronounced the same way as "middle-school syndrome" in Japanese—or "Evil Eye," the kind that yearned for superpowers and mysterious forces and fantasized about possessing extraordinary abilities.

He admired the special powers and miraculous forces found in anime, manga, games, and Light Novels, then deliberately pretended he possessed such abilities himself. To make it all seem plausible, he added settings like being the reincarnation of a legendary warrior, someone chosen by the gods, or an agent of some secret organization, then acted according to those settings.

Why did they do that?

Because it was cool.

I figured everyone had done something similar around their second year of middle school. Like standing in front of the mirror and practicing, "Good evening, COUNT DOWN TV viewers. This new song I'm bringing you is about love, and I wrote the lyrics myself..." Something like that. Everyone had, right?

Chuunibyou was simply an extreme version of it.

After I gave a brief explanation of chuunibyou, Yukino seemed to understand. I'd always thought her mind was astonishingly sharp; saying she could infer ten things from one would not have been an exaggeration. Even without every detail spelled out, she could grasp the essence of things.

"I still don't get it..."

Unlike Yukino, Yuihama muttered in a disgusted tone. It couldn't be helped. If it were me, I probably wouldn't understand from that explanation alone either. Really, the strange one was Yukino for understanding it so easily.

"Um... so, in other words, he's acting based on a setting he came up with himself?"

"That's about right. His setting seems to be based on Ashikaga Yoshiteru, the thirteenth shogun of the Muromachi Shogunate. Their names are the same, so maybe that made it easier for him to come up with."

"Why does he think you're his companion?"

"He probably connected my name to Hachiman Daibosatsu. The Seiwa Genji revered Him as a god of war. You know Tsurugaoka Hachimangu, right?"

At that, Yukino suddenly fell silent. I asked her with my eyes what was wrong, and she stared at me wide-eyed.

"I'm surprised. You know quite a lot."

"...Not really."

A bad memory nearly flashed through my mind, and I turned away, changing the subject while I was at it.

"It's annoying how Zaimokuza keeps quoting history, but at least his settings are based on real history, so he's not quite as bad."

After hearing that, Yukino glanced at Zaimokuza and asked with an expression of heartfelt disgust:

"...There's worse?"

"There is."

"I'll listen for reference. How bad can it be?"

"There were once seven gods in this world: the three gods of creation, Wise Emperor Gran, War Goddess Mesika, and Guardian of the Heart Hatia; the three gods of destruction, Foolish King Otu, Lost Sanctuary Log, and Suspicious Rairai; and the eternally missing god, Nameless God. They made the world repeatedly rise and fall, and it was now in its seventh cycle. To prevent the world from heading toward destruction again, the Japanese Government was searching everywhere for the reincarnations of those seven gods. The most important of them, the eternally missing god Nameless God, whose powers were still unknown, was me, Hiki—hey, why are you so good at getting people to talk?! That's terrifying! I almost told you everything!"

"I wasn't trying to get anything out of you..."

"That was really unpleasant..."

"Yuihama, watch your language. You're making me feel suicidal."

Yukino sighed as though surrendering, her gaze moving back and forth between Zaimokuza and me.

"So Hikigaya-kun and he are the same kind, then? No wonder you know so much about things like the Sword General."

"No, no, Yukino, what are you talking about? How could that be? I know this stuff because I took Japanese history as an elective! And because I played Nobunaga's Ambition."

"Is that so?"

Yukino's eyes were full of suspicion, as though she wanted me to go die somewhere.

But I wouldn't back down over this. Zaimokuza and I weren't the same kind. I could look Yukino straight in the eye because she was wrong.

Zaimokuza and I weren't the same kind. We used to be the same kind.

The name Hachiman was pretty rare, so for a while, I genuinely believed I was special. It was only natural for someone who had loved anime and manga since childhood to have those kinds of fantasies.

Lying alone under the covers, I'd imagine myself possessing mysterious powers that would suddenly awaken one day and drag me into a war that would decide the fate of the world. In preparation for that day, I'd start writing daily records of the divine realm and send a report to the government every three months—everyone had done that, right? No? Really?

"...Fine, maybe we were the same before, but we're different now."

"Well..."

Yukino gave a mischievous smile, then walked over to Zaimokuza.

As I watched her back, I wondered: Was I really any different from Zaimokuza?

The answer was yes.

I no longer had idiotic fantasies, and I no longer wrote divine-realm diaries or reports for the government. These days, at most, I wrote a Never Forgive List. Naturally, Yukino was at the top of it.

I didn't make sound effects while playing with completed Gundam models. I didn't use clothespins to build the strongest robot. I'd graduated from making self-defense weapons out of rubber bands and aluminum foil, and I no longer played dress-up with Dad's coat and Mom's faux-fur scarf.

I was different from Zaimokuza.

As I reached that conclusion, Yukino arrived in front of Zaimokuza. Yuihama even whispered, "Yukino, run!" That was just cruel to Zaimokuza.

"I more or less understand. Your request is for us to cure your emotional problem, correct?"

"...Hachiman, in accordance with the contract between thee and I, I have traveled a thousand miles to this place in order to fulfill my wish. It is a noble and sacred desire, and my only desire."

Zaimokuza looked at me, completely ignoring Yukino's existence. You couldn't even keep your first- and second-person pronouns straight. Just how messed up was your brain?

Then I noticed something—whenever Yukino spoke to him, he always turned to look at me.

I understood how Zaimokuza felt. If Yukino spoke to me before I knew her true nature, I'd probably be at a loss too. I wouldn't be able to look properly at her face.

But Yukino didn't have the heart of an ordinary person. She didn't understand how to be considerate of a man's pure feelings.

"I'm the one speaking to you right now. When I'm speaking, please look at me properly."

Yukino's voice was icy, and she grabbed Zaimokuza by the collar, forcibly pulling him back to face her.

That's right. Yukino herself had no manners at all, yet she demanded manners from others. Because of her personality, I'd been trained to greet people proactively the moment I entered the clubroom.

After Yukino released him, Zaimokuza actually coughed a few times. Apparently, this wasn't the time for acting.

"...Guh, guha, guhahahahaha! That startled me."

"Don't talk like that either."

"..."

Treated coldly by Yukino, Zaimokuza silently lowered his head.

"Why are you wearing a coat in this season?"

"...Mm, mm. This is equipment that protects my body from miasma. It was originally one of my Twelve Divine Artifacts. After I reincarnated into this world, I specially transformed it into the form best suited for this body. Fuhahahahahahaha!"

"Don't talk like that."

"Ah, yes..."

"What about those fingerless gloves? What's the point of them? They can't protect your fingertips."

"...Ah, yes. Um... this is one of the Twelve Divine Artifacts I inherited from my previous life, a special gauntlet capable of firing Adamantine Steel Wire. The fingertips are intentionally exposed so I can control it freely... that's all! Fuhahahaha!"

"Watch how you speak."

"Hahaha! Haha, haa..."

At first, Zaimokuza laughed loudly, but gradually he sounded weaker and weaker. Mournful sighs even mixed into his laughter, until he finally fell silent.

Yukino seemed to pity him. Changing her previous tone, she asked him gently:

"Anyway, we just need to cure your illness, right?"

"...Ah, this isn't an illness."

Zaimokuza looked away from Yukino and replied in a tiny voice. He wore a troubled expression and kept signaling to me with his eyes.

Right now, he looked completely ordinary.

Zaimokuza simply didn't have the ability to keep up his act beneath Yukino's piercing gaze.

Ah... I couldn't bear to watch this anymore!

Zaimokuza was too pitiful. It made me want to help him out.

As I stepped forward, about to separate Yukino and Zaimokuza, a rustling sound rose from beneath my feet.

It was one of the sheets of paper that had fluttered around the clubroom earlier.

I picked it up and saw it covered in dense, difficult kanji, a sea of black that drew my gaze.

"This is..."

I looked away and scanned the classroom, discovering that forty-two by thirty-four pages of manuscript were scattered all over the room. I picked them up one by one and arranged them in order.

"Hm, impressive. You understood without me saying anything. Those hellish days we spent together weren't for nothing." Yuihama completely ignored Zaimokuza's emotional remark and looked at what I was holding.

"What's that?"

I handed the stack of paper to Yuihama. She flipped through it with a fluttering sound. Question marks seemed to appear over her head as she read, and in the end, she let out a deep sigh and returned the stack to me.

"What is this?"

"I think it's a novel manuscript."

At that point, Zaimokuza deliberately cleared his throat, signaling that he had something to say.

"Thank you for your insight. That is indeed my Light Novel manuscript. I wish to submit it to a newcomer award, but since I have no friends, I have no one to hear my thoughts. Please read it."

"I feel like you casually said something really sad..."

It was only natural for someone with chuunibyou to aspire to become a Light Novel author. Wanting to give form to the things you admired was a perfectly normal feeling. Besides, people who fantasized often believed they could write great works; there was nothing strange about that either. And being able to combine your hobby with your job truly was a kind of happiness.

So Zaimokuza wanting to become a Light Novel author didn't surprise me much.

What surprised me more was that he'd specifically brought his work for us to read.

"There are sites and discussion threads online where people submit their work. You could post it there."

"I can't. They're too blunt. If they criticize it until it's worthless, I might die."

...What a fragile spirit.

Still, people really were merciless when speaking through the buffer of the internet. Friends, on the other hand, would probably consider the other person's feelings and phrase things more tactfully.

Normally, given our relationship with Zaimokuza, we couldn't exactly offer harsh criticism. People usually didn't say unpleasant things directly to someone's face, so inevitably, opinions would become cautious. But that only applied under normal circumstances.

"However..."

I sighed and looked to the side. When my gaze met Yukino's, I found her wearing a blank expression. "I think Yukino's opinion will be harsher than any criticism from people on a submission site."

Yukino, Yuihama, and I each took Zaimokuza's manuscript home and finished reading it over the course of one night.

The novel Zaimokuza wrote was a school-based supernatural battle story.

This masterpiece of the ages was set in a city somewhere in Japan. It depicted a mysterious organization and superpowered people with memories of their previous lives appearing and disappearing through the night. Then an utterly ordinary teenage protagonist discovered the power sleeping inside him and defeated enemy after enemy.

By the time I finished the novel, dawn was already breaking.

As a result, I slept through almost all my classes that day, and I was still groggy by sixth period. Once I finally endured homeroom, I headed to the clubroom.