Chapter Three
Hikigaya Hachiman, 'Eight', was staring with uncertainty at the figure that had stepped inside the Service Club. Apparently, there was an over nine thousand slut-powered girl in his classroom. It was the only acceptable answer to the conundrum of why his eyes were being caught into a gravity well of its own creation. Still, he was a resolute young man, and thus his eyes moved straight into the safe territory of the ceiling, where nothing could ever go wrong.
"I skipped Home Economics class on the grounds that group work is not the same thing as being a solitary house-husband," Hikigaya said smoothly. "Why am I forced into stepping inside the dreaded classroom all the same? This is the place that crushes dreams, you know? Where boys expect to have doki-doki encounters with flour-nosed pretty girls who go all 'Tee-hee-hee'," Hikigaya even went as far as rap his knuckles against the side of his face, which earned twin looks of scandal and fright from Yukinoshita and Yuigahama.
"H-Hikki, that's gross," Yui said, her eyes darting towards the flour on the counter.
"Gross is an understatement of his delusions," Yukino remarked, "Terrifyingly out of touch with reality, dissociating oneself with the world around them...those are better descriptions of this incurable sickness."
The home economics room smelled of vanilla to Hikigaya's nose. With two pretty girls wearing aprons, clearly this was the start of his youthful romantic comedy. At least, on paper that was the case. In truth he was busily trying his best to nonchalantly ignore the gruesome murder on culinary cuisine that Yuigahama was perpetrating. Seriously, the girl was definitely the typical cute teenager to a T, and all that she was missing was the 'Like, seriously!' addition at the end of her sentences.
Yukino marvelously prepared some cookies, which were a light gold color and delicious to eat, while Yuigahama's own...well, the least said about it, the better.
"You know how in sleazy bars, middle-aged women wear thick makeup to hide their age?" Hikigaya ended up blurting at the sight of the blackened mass of biscuits in front of him, product of Yuigahama's work. "No amount of makeup would save these things from getting dumped."
"H-Hikki!" Yuigahama actually had tears in her eyes. "That's so mean!"
"Admittedly," Yukino acquiesced, gazing at the dark mass that oozed poisonous clouds of toxic miasma, "These don't look edible..." she took a tiny piece into her mouth, "They...well, they're not outright deadly?"
"Y-You don't have to say it like that!" Yuigahama's tears were pretty clearly holding themselves back only because of the makeup covering her face, forming a natural water-resistant barrier to the salty liquids. "M-Maybe I shouldn't have added the coffee? I know it's such a silly idea to make homemade cookies, so out of touch..."
Hikigaya sighed. "That doesn't really matter," he smirked. "You know why the fat, bald businessman keeps heading into a sleazy bar filled with hostesses?"
"I am afraid to see the end of this allegory," Yukino spoke, quite truthfully pondering on where Hikigaya was heading, and quite determinedly deciding it was a deep, dark end.
"It's because it tickles his pride to be fawned over by women," Hikigaya raised his chin up, as if dispensing absolute wisdom. "Men are simple creatures. You fawn over them and they cave in immediately. Just give the guy whatever cookies you want; as long as you say they're homemade and you're the one who made them, since you're cute, it's going to be okay."
Yuigahama blinked, "That's..."
"Terrifying," Yukino finished. "You're saying that no amount of work or self-improvement is needed, just as long as the product is delivered through a mean that is 'cute'?"
Hachiman nodded. "Isn't that how society convinces people to buy trash through the television? Sexy models, beautiful women, cute animals...as long as it's cute, it sells." He scrunched his face up in thought. "That's the fakeness of society, but unless it's me, then it's definitely going to work. I've long understood it, so I'm not going to fall so easily in such a trap."
"I can't accept such a solution," Yukino acquiesced. "It would mean having no need to change, just as long as you're born in a certain way."
Hikigaya nodded.
Yuigahama exhaled, and then shook her head. "Maybe...maybe that's true," she said, "But still...I'd rather make something a bit more...edible, don't you think that would be better?"
Hikigaya shrugged, "Probably," he nodded. "If the product's good and the delivery is cute too, then it's a big plus in the books of simple-hearted men." This seemed to cheer up Yuigahama, who immediately went to work once more with renewed vigor, Yukinoshita actually helping her out here and there with pointers and suggestions. Still, at the end of the allotted time, average-tasting biscuits were made.
Yuigahama also ended up with some flour on her nose, but Yukino's fast acting towel-throwing saved her from the embarrassment of having Hikigaya point it out. Though somehow that made Yuigahama pout, it was definitely because she was putting up a fake silly persona to elicit some kind of laughter and keep the attention away from her work.
With the final product tallied up and divided into three small piles, Yuigahama grinned as she handed them over. "Thank you for helping me," she said, "It was fun!"
Hikigaya was simply glad he had managed to get himself something to snack on later during the day, when his shift began at the bar.
"You the new hire?" was apparently the question a lot of regular customers asked, which was equally answered with a nod. A couple of seconds later, his nickname was mentioned and thus cemented.
"So kiddo, how are you finding work around these parts?" a bespectacled man asked, the suit opened and the shirt beneath creased, colorful tattoos on his arms since the sleeves were rolled up. "Nice and friendly people, ain't that right?" he rhetorically asked, receiving thus just a nod in reply from Hikigaya. "Good to know you're on board, Eight." He winked. "So, what's High-School like these days?"
"The usual," Hikigaya replied.
"Man, you're the talkative type, uh?" the man grinned as he said that, "I remember back in my days they had physical punishments dished out for the tiniest things," he made a snip-snip gesture with his fingers, "I got my nickname of Scissors because that's how I answered back." He winked. "Gotta get the right tool for the right job, you know? When you're just a kid, a pair of scissors makes all the difference against the bullies."
Hikigaya raised an eyebrow. "I'm not being bullied."
"Say no more, my friend!" Scissors actually nodded wisely at his words. "Your fish-like eyes, your slumped and depressed face! I've seen it a lot in my business with those at the end of their rope! You're a man who's seen the world for what it is, and you just can't wait to grow up and change it yourself, no?"
"Actually, I'd rather not; it's a lot of work to change oneself, let alone the world, and I'm not inclined in changing myself," Hikigaya retorted, the dish he was cleaning now squeaky clean.
"It's not like you can avoid that," Scissors grinned. "I went from stabbing people with scissors to using scissors to cut up papers," he winked again. Did he have a nervous tick or something? "It's not like I changed or anything, but it just happened. Change is both conscious and unconscious. One day you're one thing, tomorrow you'll be another. Bit by bit, piece by piece, you're bound to change." He tapped his index finger on the counter. "And one day, you'll become a completely different person, but you'll become it gradually! So you won't realize it..." he jabbed his thumb at his own chest, "But you'll become a great guy, just as long as you change in the right direction."
"You like talking, don't you?" Hikigaya said, rhetorically of course.
Scissors simply smiled, and shrugged. "Hand me a beer from the fridge. I get thirsty talking, or I talk to get thirsty? True life mystery, man!"
Hikigaya handed the man a beer, and then proceeded to clean another plate while pondering life's greatest mystery...
...two guys used to wait for Godot near a tree...
...Perhaps they should have waited for him in a sleazy Yakuza bar.
