The restaurant lights dimmed again. The air was thick, the weight of Yukino's reveal still clinging to everyone like smoke.
Hachiman wanted to crawl under the table and die quietly. Yui kept sneaking glances at him, Yui's menu was bent nearly in half from her nervous grip, and Yukino was staring firmly ahead, her jaw tight.
But the voice wasn't about to give anyone time to recover.
"Next reveal: Shizuka Hiratsuka."
The room froze.
"…Ehhhh?!" Yui's squeak shot out instantly, eyes bugging."No way, Sensei?!" Iroha gasped. "That's, like… illegal! You're a teacher!""Forbidden teacher-student route!" Ebina cried gleefully, clutching her cheeks.Zaimokuza slammed his palm down. "Of course! The noble mentor, the warrior maiden, her heart stolen by the dark knight she trains!""…Gross," Kawasaki muttered.
Hiratsuka rubbed her temple and sighed. "Figures. If this is a joke, it's in poor taste."
Haruno leaned forward, grin sharp. "Ara, ara~ Sensei too? My, Hikki-kun, you really do collect hearts without trying."
"Shut up," Hachiman hissed, face flaming. "This is completely out of genre."
The projection shimmered to life.
The Service Club room. Hiratsuka standing by the window, arms crossed, watching her three students bicker.
Yukino sharp, Yui flustered, Hachiman cynical.
Her inner thought echoed faintly:
"…This room. These kids. They remind me of what I've lost, what I can't go back to. But that boy—Hikigaya—he's… different."
Another flash.
A lonely evening. Hiratsuka at her desk, a cigarette burning low in the ashtray, a cup of instant ramen beside her. She scrolled aimlessly through her phone, no unread messages waiting.
She exhaled smoke and muttered: "…This is adulthood. Empty rooms. Empty nights."
But her thoughts, voiced aloud by the projection:
"…When I look at him, I remember the fire of youth. I remember wanting, yearning, hoping. He makes me feel it again. Dangerous. Precious."
The next scene shifted suddenly.
The Service Club had just finished a difficult request. Yukino and Yui had already left. Hachiman stood to leave as well, but Hiratsuka stopped him at the doorway.
"You know, Hikigaya," she said, smirking faintly, "you should smile more. It'd make you look less like a villain."
"…Villains are cooler," he muttered.
Her laugh rang out. "True. But sometimes… you deserve to be seen as more."
Her thought flickered:
"…Why do I say things like this only to him?"
And then—
The restaurant projection changed. The scene was strange, unfamiliar, not yet lived.
A large hall decorated for prom. Dim lights, music floating.
And there, on the dance floor, Hiratsuka stood with Hachiman.
The two of them moved slowly, alone, their hands clasped. Her eyes were uncharacteristically soft, her smile tender.
"Wha—wait, what is this?!" Hiratsuka blurted, staring at the projection in shock. "This hasn't—this—!"
The voice was calm.
"Future scene. Significant moment of realization."
Everyone gasped.
The image lingered. Hiratsuka's projected self thought, her voice quiet but raw:
"…I knew this was fleeting. I knew it couldn't last. I knew he wasn't mine to hold. But even so… I wanted it. I wanted just one moment where I could forget the years between us and dance like an ordinary woman."
Her hand in the projection tightened slightly on Hachiman's.
"…If I'd been born ten years ago or… maybe… no. I can't change what is. But I'll remember this, even if it breaks me."
The restaurant sat in silence as those words faded.
The projection dimmed.
The restaurant erupted again.
Yui buried her face in her hands. "Ahhhh, I can't watch this anymore!"Iroha fanned herself dramatically. "This is sooo scandalous! Sensei, what if the school finds out?!""They'd expel him!" Yumiko snapped.Zaimokuza raised a finger like a sage. "Nay, this is destiny! The forbidden bond that transcends age and duty—""Shut up," Kawasaki and Yukino said flatly in unison.
Hachiman had gone very, very still. "…Prom? Dance? What kind of cursed future am I walking into?"
Hiratsuka groaned, covering her face with one hand. "I didn't… I never… damn it."
Haruno chuckled lowly. "Ara, ara~ embarrassed, Sensei? I thought you were supposed to be the cool, mature adult."
"Don't you dare," Hiratsuka growled, glaring daggers.
The voice spoke again, steady as ever:
"Proceeding to the next reveal."
The lights brightened. The projection faded. But Hiratsuka sat stiff, her cigarette case unopened on the table, her face caught between defiance and quiet ache.
And Hachiman, though he would never admit it aloud, couldn't shake the image of her hand in his.