My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, as I Expected / My Youth Romantic Story Is Wrong, as I Expected

"Ah! Crap, I accidentally..."

I hurriedly wiped the corner of my mouth with my sleeve. That was close, really close. Something inside me had almost awakened.

"...Your problem hasn't improved at all. It's gotten even worse."

"No, no, compared to you, Sensei, I don't think mine is nearly that serious. At your age, you still bring up Super Soldiers—"

"Annihilate..."

"—which just proves that you're a mature woman! I can personally feel your sense of mission in tirelessly promoting a masterpiece. That's right! Ah, I mean it, really."

I went to considerable trouble to steer the conversation back on track, lest I once again be treated to Sensei's fist. Although Hiratsuka-sensei did put her fist away, her gaze remained just as fierce, making me think of a wild beast.

"Honestly... Anyway, rewrite the Workplace Observation Form. And as punishment for hurting my feelings, help me sort these forms."

"...Yes."

A huge stack of papers was piled in front of me. Like a part-timer at a bread factory, I had to sort the forms one by one into categories, all while someone watched over me.

There were only a female teacher and me here, but there was absolutely no chance of any heart-pounding development. Nor was there any chance of something wonderful like accidentally touching the teacher's chest while getting punched by her.

Those things were all fake. Liars! The people who wrote Beautiful Girl game scripts, and the Light Novel authors who wrote romantic comedies, had better come apologize to me right now.

At Chiba Municipal Sobu High School, second-year students had an event called "workplace observation."

The school collected everyone's desired professions and then let us visit actual workplaces. It was part of "Liberal Arts Education," intended to let us experience what entering society felt like firsthand.

Workplace observation itself wasn't bad, and every school had similar activities. The problem was that this event came right after the regular exams, meaning I had to sacrifice precious study time to help deal with this kind of busywork.

"Come to think of it, why did they choose to hold this right after the exams...?"

As I sorted the forms by occupational category, I asked the question aloud. Hiratsuka-sensei, sitting on an empty desk with a cigarette dangling from her mouth, gave me an answer.

"The school deliberately picked this time. You know you'll have to choose between the Literary Stream and science stream after summer vacation, right?"

"That's a thing?"

"I believe I mentioned it during Home Room..."

"Oh, that's an away game for me, so I wasn't really listening."

But seriously, why was it called "Home Room"? It wasn't like we were going to the teacher's house, though I'd rather die than go there.

Also, the system where everyone took turns being on duty and had to give commands during Home Room and at the beginning and end of class needed to be abolished as soon as possible. Whenever it was my turn to call out the commands, the entire class always seemed especially lifeless. Could they stop tormenting me like this? If Hayama gave the commands, everyone would laugh and chatter, and he'd smilingly tell them to quiet down, making the classroom feel cheerful and lively. But whenever it was my turn, everyone shut their mouths. They couldn't even be bothered to boo. At that point, it didn't even count as an away game anymore.

"Anyway, the school holds workplace observation after the regular exams before summer vacation because it wants you to do more than just take tests. It wants you to clearly plan your futures too... Though the results are rather questionable."

Hiratsuka-sensei concluded with that, exhaling a faint ring of smoke.

The Sobu High School I attended was a college-prep school. More than half the students planned to continue on to university—and actually did. Needless to say, when they entered this high school, they had already set their sights on further education.

They planned to postpone their lives by four years from the very beginning, so naturally they had no real outlook on the future. Apparently, hardly anyone besides me thought seriously about their future—I absolutely wasn't going to work.

"Thinking about something pathetic again... Are you planning to choose the Literary Stream or the science stream?"

Hiratsuka-sensei asked, looking utterly fed up.

"Me? I—"

"Ah! So this is where you were!"

Just as I was about to speak, I was interrupted by a loud voice.

The speaker was Yuihama Yui, someone I'd become fairly familiar with lately. Her light-colored hair was tied into a bun on top of her head, which swayed around in obvious displeasure. Her skirt was as short as ever, and two or three buttons at her collar were undone, giving her a very cool and breezy look. Come to think of it, she was clearly my classmate, yet we had only gradually become acquainted now. In a sense, my social skills were truly impressive.

"Oh, Yuihama, sorry, but I'm borrowing Hachiman for a bit."

"H-He's not mine! I-I don't care at all!"

Yuihama denied it while vigorously waving her hands. Was that "I don't need this guy" tone supposed to teach me how not to care? Being so thoroughly denied like this hurt a little...

"What is it?"

The one who answered my question wasn't Yuihama, but another girl who appeared from behind her. As she stepped forward, the twin ponytails on her head bounced along with her.

"Since you weren't coming to the clubroom, I came looking for you myself, Yuihama."

"Yeah, yeah. Even if you don't use an inverted sentence, I know you didn't mean it that way."

This black-haired girl was Yukino Yukinoshita. Judging by her appearance alone, she was as exquisite as a porcelain doll. Unfortunately, while her looks were exceptionally refined, her attitude was as cold as porcelain.

The fact that her first words upon seeing me today were words of contempt showed what our usual relationship was like. In any case, Yukinoshita and I were both members of the Service Club, and she was the president. Day and night, we continued our meaningless conflict, swearing to repay blood with blood... No, it wasn't that serious. Anyway, we dug up each other's old scars and rubbed salt into each other's wounds.

Upon hearing Yukinoshita's words, Yuihama displayed her dissatisfaction even more openly and strode right in front of me.

"I ran all over the place asking where you were! But everyone just said, 'Hachiman? Who's that?' It took me forever."

"You didn't need to add that."

Why did she have to strike directly at my sore spot? Was she a natural sharpshooter who didn't even need to aim?

"It took me forever..."

For some reason, she repeated herself with a thoroughly displeased expression, and the fact that I was practically a stranger to everyone at school attacked me once again. Ah, if everyone at school knew you, finding people would be so much easier~ With my presence being this faint, maybe I was surprisingly suited to becoming a ninja.

"Um... Sorry."

Nobody knew who I was—sorry about that. It was the first time I'd ever apologized for such a tragic reason. If I hadn't possessed an indomitable spirit like mine, I would've burst into tears on the spot.

"N-No, it's okay... I-I mean... so..."

Yuihama fidgeted awkwardly with her hands in front of her chest, starting to blush.

"A-At least leave me your number. I mean, running around looking for you like that was really ridiculous and embarrassing... A-Anyway, nobody's going to ask wh-what our relationship is."

Yuihama's cheeks reddened, apparently remembering how embarrassing it had been to ask around campus for my whereabouts. She folded her arms and turned her face aside, secretly watching me from the corner of her eye.

"Yeah... I don't really care."

The moment I took out my phone, Yuihama immediately pulled out her shiny, gaudy one.

"...What's that? A long-haul truck?"

"Huh? Don't you think it's cute?"

She shoved the thing, which looked like a cheap crystal chandelier, in front of me. A bizarre charm resembling a mushroom-headed doll dangled from it, swaying back and forth in a way that was irritating just to look at.

"Nope, I still can't understand a slut's taste. Do you like that Mitsuhiro Oikawa song? Or are you a crow? Maybe a sushi connoisseur?"

"Huh? What sushi? And don't call me a slut!"

She glared at me like I was some kind of bizarre bird.

"Hikigaya, while both of those comparisons refer to shiny things, I don't think high schoolers would understand that mockery. You chose the wrong material... What a waste of sushi."

Hiratsuka-sensei's eyes lit up as she picked apart where my joke had failed. Sensei, that expression of yours that says, "That was a good joke," was really making me uncomfortable...

"You can't see what's cute about this phone? Are your eyes blind?"

It seemed "Hikigaya has dead fish eyes" was gradually becoming an established fact. Whatever. I'd already given up, so it didn't matter.

"Fine, whatever. We can use infrared transfer, right?"

"No, mine's a smartphone, so it doesn't have infrared transfer."

"Huh? So we have to type it in? What a pain!"

"I don't have any use for infrared transfer, and I don't really like carrying a phone around. Here."

I handed my phone to Yuihama, and she accepted it timidly.

"Y-You're letting me enter it... I mean, that's fine, but you just hand your phone over to someone without a second thought. That's pretty bold..."

"There's nothing incriminating on my phone anyway. Only my younger sister, Amazon, and McDonald's ever email me."

"Wow! It's true! It's almost all emails from Amazon!"

Mind your own business.

After taking my phone, Yuihama began typing at an astonishing speed. She usually looked so slow and easygoing, but her hands were surprisingly quick. All right, starting today, I'd call her the Ayrton Senna of fingers.

"You type really fast..."

"Hm? Isn't that normal? I bet your fingers have atrophied because you don't have anyone to email."

"How rude. I at least emailed girls back in middle school."

Hearing that, she dropped my phone to the floor in shock. Hey, that was my phone!

"You're lying..."

"Do you know how hurtful that reaction is? You don't, do you? Well, now you should!"

"Ah, it's just that I can't imagine you getting along with girls..."

She tried to laugh it off as she bent down to pick up my phone.

"Are you an idiot? I'm actually pretty amazing. If I put my mind to it, it wouldn't be a problem at all. When we changed classes and everyone was exchanging email addresses, I took out my phone and looked around, and someone said, 'Ah... then... let's exchange too.' Isn't that popular?"

"She said, 'then...' Being kind to you is usually a form of cruelty."

Yukino said this with a gentle smile.

"Don't pity me! We exchanged emails properly afterward!"

"...What kind of person was she?"

Yuihama stared at the phone screen and asked casually. Strangely, though, the fingers that had been flying over the keys had completely stopped.

"Hmm... She seemed healthy and refined. Whenever I emailed her at seven in the evening, she wouldn't reply until the next morning, saying, 'Sorry, I fell asleep~ See you at school later.' That showed how regular her lifestyle was. But when we got to class, she was always too shy to talk to me. She was really reserved and delicate."

"Mm, isn't that just..."

Yuihama covered her mouth with both hands to keep from sobbing, but tears still spilled from her eyes.

I already knew what it was without needing her to finish.

"She pretended to be asleep so she could ignore your emails. Hikigaya-kun, please face reality properly instead of running away from it."

Miss Yukino, why did you have to say it out loud? And why did you look so pleased with yourself?

"...Of course I know. I know well enough to compile a whole Hiki-pedia."

Ahahahahaha, how nostalgic~~ That's what being young was like~~ I was so foolish and innocent back then.

I'd trusted her so completely that I never even considered she'd only exchanged email addresses with me out of pity, replying now and then as a courtesy. Then, for two whole weeks, I sent her message after message, and she didn't reply even once. So I gave up.

"Hachiman keeps sending letters all the time. It's so gross, I can't stand it."

"He definitely likes you!"

"Huh? No way, no way, absolutely no way!"

The thought that those girls might have had a conversation like that made me want to die. And I liked her so much, too.

Back then, I used a ton of emojis. Looking back on it now, it was truly pathetic. I actually worried whether using hearts would be too weird, then used sparkles, suns, notes, and all that... Just thinking about it made me so miserable I nearly passed out.

"Hachiman... Th-then, I'll exchange email addresses with you too. I'll definitely reply properly. I won't pretend to be asleep!"

Hiratsuka-sensei took Yuihama's phone and entered her mobile email address. I could feel her sympathy washing over me like an endless river.

"No, I don't need that kind of kindness..."

There was nothing sadder in the world than messaging your teacher on your phone. How was that any different from getting Valentine's chocolates from Mom every year?

What was this miserable feeling? If anything, Yukino's indifferent attitude was more comforting.

By the time the phone returned to my hand, it held two additional mobile email addresses. Logically, storing a little more data shouldn't have made it any heavier, but for some reason, it felt weighty.

Was this the weight of bonds...? So light. It was ridiculous that I had once pursued those few kilobytes of data like a madman. I didn't think there would ever be a day I'd need this information, but I opened the contacts list anyway. Then this name came into view—

☆★Yui★☆

Hey, where was that supposed to fall in the kana ordering? And wasn't that basically the kind of sender name you'd see in spam mail?

Just as expected of Yuihama, her text was overflowing with slut style. So I put my phone away and pretended I had never seen it.

As for the survey forms I had originally been helping Hiratsuka-sensei sort, there were only a few left now since things had gone smoothly. I picked up the pace and finished sorting the last of them.

Hiratsuka-sensei glanced at me from the side and gave a small cough.

"That's enough, Hachiman. You've helped me plenty. Go to your club."

Without looking at me, she lit the cigarette in her mouth with a lighter. She seemed especially gentle at that moment, perhaps because her sympathy for me from earlier had not yet fully faded. Still, the fact that even this much struck me as gentle showed just how ungentle she usually was.

"Yes. Then I'll head to the club."