My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU IF: Yukinoshita's Choice
In the spring of his second year of high school, Hachiman Hikigaya, a cynical loner, is forced into the Service Club by his teacher. There he meets the perfect beauty Yukino Yukinoshita and the cheerful Yui Yuigahama. As they spend time together, Hachiman slowly begins to open his heart. But he never reveals his true feelings.
One day during cultural festival preparations, Yukino says quietly, 'I have something I need to tell you both.' Hachiman and Yui look puzzled. Yukino takes a deep breath
My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU IF: Yukinoshita's Choice - That speech will destroy the world.
The gymnasium was suffocating with body heat.
An October afternoon. Every single window was shut tight, and the only air conditioning came from two old fans droning low. All nine hundred and sixty students were crammed into sections divided by grade level. The scrape of pipe chair legs against the floor, classmates whispering to each other, the dry sound of a student staff member tapping the microphone. All of it mixed together, creating an unpleasant, sweltering atmosphere.
I, Hikigaya Hachiman, was at the very edge of that heat.
Second-year Class F's row, second from the back. Against the wall. Shoulders hunched, fingers interlaced on my knees. A bead of sweat ran down the back of my neck. Hot. Uncomfortable.
(*Just start already, and end already.*)
I repeated only that in my mind.
On the stage, long desks and chairs were arranged. In the center, a middle-aged woman in a black suit. Someone connected to the Yukinoshita family. Next to her, the vice principal. Then, the student council president.
The student council president.
Katayama, I think his name was. A third-year, top of his class. Tall, glasses that suited him, a righteous-looking face. Today he even wore a tie, reading from the script in his hands with a faint smile.
"—And that concludes the matters our school needed to convey to you all."
Katayama adjusted his grip on the microphone.
"On what should have been an enjoyable occasion—the first day of the cultural festival—the student council deeply regrets having to make such an announcement."
The woman in the black suit beside him gave a small nod.
"Second-year Class F's Yukinoshita Yukino has officially withdrawn from our school as of today."
A ripple ran through the rows.
"The reason for her withdrawal is due to her own strong will. A change in career path, family circumstances. These factors combined, and after careful consideration, the school has accepted this decision."
Katayama's voice remained utterly matter-of-fact.
He was just reading from a prepared script. That much was obvious.
"Yukinoshita was an outstanding student of our school. We sincerely pray for her future success."
Toward the back, two female students were whispering to each other. What I caught were shallow fragments: "Her mom decided it, right?" "Her family's amazing, isn't it—that girl."
I bit my lip.
(*Her own strong will, huh.*)
Wrong.
That's wrong, isn't it.
She never once said she wanted to quit school.
If anything, she never gave up on presenting her novel at the cultural festival until the very end. Even though we almost made her give up. Even so, she held out her manuscript.
"I entrust you with the most precious thing I have."
Yukinoshita Yukino's voice from that moment resurfaced deep in my ears.
That was her soul's cry.
And Katayama, the woman in the black suit, and her mother—they were trying to erase it with a single phrase: "her own will."
◆◆◆
One hour earlier.
In the classroom, Yui and I were preparing for the mock shop.
We'd been assigned to set up Class 2-F's "haunted house" attraction. Cutting cardboard into ghost shapes, hanging black plastic bags from the ceiling. Plain, simple, but slow-going work.
Yui barely opened her mouth.
Her fluffy brown hair hid her cheeks every time she looked down. Her large brown eyes occasionally turned toward the window. Her phone had been vibrating in her hand, over and over, for the past thirty minutes.
"...Hey, Hachiman."
Yui set the packing tape down on the floor.
"That assembly... do we really have to go?"
"It's not a matter of 'have to'—they announced over the broadcast that everyone has to gather."
"I know, but..."
Yui looked out the window again.
The October sky was absurdly clear for a cultural festival morning. Blue. White clouds torn and drifting. The wind was strong. That wind—it was the kind that blows in from the coast.
"Yukino-chan still hasn't contacted me."
"Yeah."
"I've been calling her for two days straight. Ten times, twenty times. Last night, this morning too. But it just says out of range."
"...I see."
I undid the cardboard packaging. Black plastic bags spilled out with a rustle.
"That day, at the beach, Yukino-chan said it. 'Everyone gets hurt because of me.'"
"I remember."
"I couldn't chase after her. Even though you went after Yukino-chan, my legs just... wouldn't move."
Yui's voice trembled slightly.
"I really do want to protect Yukino-chan. But I keep regretting it. I should have held her hand tighter."
Protect her.
I'd been thinking the same thing.
That night, at the beach, I let Yukino shake off my hand as she cried and screamed. She was the one who shook it off. But I was the one who couldn't chase after her.
(*You're not to blame.*)
That line stayed stuck in the back of my throat and never came out.
◆◆◆
The air in the gymnasium grew even thicker.
"Furthermore, we will not be accepting any questions regarding Yukinoshita. This concerns student privacy."
Katayama looked up from his script.
"That is all. This concludes the assembly."
He said it was over.
Several pipe chairs creaked.
(*Can I really let it end like this?*)
Something cold dropped right into the center of my chest.
Can I?
Bury her talent without anyone ever reading it?
That voice—Yukinoshita Yukino's voice as she read her manuscript by the clubroom window, bathed in the sunset.
That story about the cat.
"When I woke in the morning, outside my window, there was a small cat."
The moment I read it, I was at a loss for words.
...No.
That's a clichéd way to put it. I take it back.
I wasn't at a loss for words.
Something inside me that couldn't be put into words was scooped up, entirely, by that story.
Yui, too, had started crying silently partway through.
More than anything, I wanted to protect that time the two of them shared.
That, at least, was my true, unfeigned feeling.
"...Yuigahama."
I said in a low voice.
Three steps away from the classroom's heat, Yui turned around.
"I'm gonna hit the bathroom real quick."
"Eh? Now?"
"I'll be right back. You clean up here."
"Hachiman, you're acting weird. Your face is totally pale."
"Sleep deprivation. Read too many light novels last night."
I averted my eyes from Yui.
◆◆◆
The lock on the rooftop door had been broken for ages.
The top floor of the main building. I climbed the emergency stairs, one step at a time. My soles struck the iron steps.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Only my own footsteps sounded strangely loud.
When I stepped onto the rooftop, a strong wind hit my body at an angle.
The October sea breeze.
Beyond the fence, Chiba city spread out. Houses with yellow roofs. Beyond them, clusters of buildings. Further still, the white light of Tokyo Bay.
I leaned against the fence and pulled out a can of coffee.
MAX Coffee. Chiba's pride—a pathologically sweet drink loaded with condensed milk.
I pulled the tab.
A hiss of escaping carbonation.
I took a sip.
The sweetness seeped into the roots of my teeth.
(*Cultural festival, huh.*)
From the schoolyard, the brass band's performance drifted over on the wind in fragments.
"Salut d'Amour"—a piece everyone has heard at least once.
Elgar.
Listening to that carefree melody, I slowly closed my eyes.
What came back to me was the clubroom after school.
Fourth floor of the special building.
The sunset streamed through the west-facing window, dyeing the entire room orange.
Sitting in that old wooden chair, I read Yukino's manuscript.
Yui was slumped over the desk, crying.
Yukino stood by the window, looking outside.
"Hey, Yukino-chan."
Yui raised her face, sniffling.
"This is amazing. Really amazing. I've never read a story like this in my whole life."
"...I'm the one who should be thanking you."
Yukino didn't turn around.
But her voice trembled, ever so slightly.
"Hikigaya-kun."
Yukino called my name.
"What did you think?"
I stared at the manuscript for a while.
That final line.
"When I opened the window, the cat was already gone. But in the room, the warmth of the cat certainly remained."
"...I can't think of any words to praise it."
"Fufu."
Yukino laughed.
The moment I heard that laugh, I definitely felt my heart pound.
(*Ah.*)
(*I want to protect this face.*)
I thought.
I really thought it.
◆◆◆
"—Oi, Hikigaya."
On the rooftop, I downed the rest of the canned coffee in one go.
The empty can crumpled with a hiss.
That moment from that day—I'll protect it now.
There's no other path.
Without looking back, I passed through the rooftop door.
◆◆◆
About a hundred meters from the gymnasium, a voice stabbed into my back.
"Hikki!"
Yui's voice echoed through the hallway with a resonance I'd never heard before.
I stopped.
Stopped—or rather, I was stopped.
Yui, who had chased after me, was breathing heavily, her shoulders heaving.
"Hachiman, you're going, aren't you. To the gymnasium."
"The bathroom's this way, I think."
"Liar. The bathroom's next to the classroom we were just in."
Yui stepped closer.
"Listen, I know. I know you're about to do something crazy."
"What do you mean, crazy?"
"...You're going to talk about Yukino-chan at the assembly, aren't you."
I fell silent.
"Don't. Please, stop. After that assembly ends, everyone's going to look at you like you're insane. The teachers will be furious. They might even contact your parents."
"Like I care."
"It's not 'like I care'! Hachiman, you're trying to make yourself the bad guy again, all alone. Stop doing that."
Yui's voice was blurring with tears.
"I want everyone to read Yukino-chan's novel too. But I don't want to see you get hurt. I absolutely refuse. I don't want that."
"Yuigahama."
I looked straight at Yui's fluffy brown hair.
"If I don't do this, Yukino disappears from this school today."
"But—"
"Her novel hasn't reached anyone's eyes yet. The student council crushed it. Her parents crushed it. Every avenue was blocked. We know how incredible it is."
"I know. I know. So let me—"
"If we don't move now, everything ends."
My voice was so calm it surprised even me.
"I decided to be on her side. I was the one who decided that first."
"Hachiman..."
"You're different. From here on, you just need to be able to laugh together with Yukino."
"Why do you talk like you're carrying it all by yourself?"
Yui grabbed my sleeve, tightly.
"I'm on her side too. Yukino-chan's side. And your side, Hachiman."
"...You'd be better off not being on my side."
"I am. I am. I said I am, so I am! I'm about to get seriously angry!"
When I heard Yui's shout, I couldn't help but laugh a little.
(*Ah, this girl really is...*)
(*An idiot.*)
I gently removed Yui's hand.
"Yuigahama, wait here."
"Hachiman."
"I'll finish it in five minutes."
"What's going to finish in five minutes?"
"My school life."
With that, I broke into a run.
Behind me, Yui called my name once more.
I didn't turn back.
◆◆◆
The gymnasium's back entrance was half open.
A student staff member was letting in outside air. Through that gap, I slipped inside along with the cold air.
The gymnasium was quieter than before.
Katayama was delivering his closing remarks.
"...Everyone, please don't get too involved in this matter, and enjoy your cultural festival. That is all."
Katayama bowed deeply.
Applause.
Scattered, hesitant applause.
That dry sound pounded in the back of my ears.
I moved along the gymnasium wall, circling around to the stage-left side.
A man in a green teacher's tracksuit was standing there.
"Oi, student. Where do you think you're going?"
"Sorry. I forgot something."
"It can wait. We're in the middle of an assembly."
"I need it now."
I slipped past the man's side.
"Oi, hey, stop!"
With the man's protests at my back, I ran up the three-step staircase beside the stage.
◆◆◆
The stage's wooden floor spread out across my entire field of vision.
Nine hundred and sixty gazes.
...No, right now, maybe only about three hundred.
"Eh, what's that?"
"Someone's barging in."
A stir rose up
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