The restaurant was silent after the vision of their future faded. No one dared to speak. The sight of Hachiman as a father, Yukino as a mother, the twins, the warmth of a home — it lingered like a shadow none of them could shake.
Then, for the first time, the voice softened.
"I hope this knowledge helps all in this room live more complete lives."
The words washed over them, carrying no coldness now, only weight.
Yui's hands trembled, clutching her skirt.Hiratsuka sat with her arms crossed, but her eyes softened.Haruno tilted her head, her smile faint, unreadable.
The voice continued.
"And to you, Hachiman Hikigaya: Your Youth Romantic Comedy is Wrong, as You Expected."
Hachiman flinched, his breath catching.
"…Tch. Figures," he muttered, but his eyes lowered, the words sinking deep.
"As a small gift, you will all be given these experiences before they happen, so that you may face the future with a calm smile."
The lights grew brighter. The restaurant dissolved around them.
"Return."
And then — they were gone.
The next day, the Service Club door creaked open.
One by one, they trickled in. Yui first, clutching her bag tightly. Kawasaki, arms crossed. Even Iroha, whining about how weird everything had been. Haruno leaned in the doorway, smirking, while Hiratsuka stood beside her, feigning nonchalance. Ebina hummed under her breath, Zaimokuza dramatically declared their "return from the realm of revelations," and Hayama followed quietly, his smile thinner than usual.
But all of them came. Because they couldn't ignore what they'd seen.
The chatter swirled. Nervous laughter. Awkward glances. Denials. Teasing. And under it all, the heavy truth of the visions still pressed down on them.
Finally, Yukino walked in. Hachiman trailed just behind her, his hands shoved in his pockets.
Their eyes met for a moment. Neither spoke.
The others filled the room, but something in the air had shifted. The Service Club wasn't the same anymore.
Later, when the crowd dispersed, Yukino lingered. So did Hachiman. The door clicked shut, leaving just the two of them.
Silence stretched, taut and suffocating.
Yukino spoke first, her voice quiet, almost trembling. "…You saw it too."
"…Yeah," Hachiman said, his throat dry.
"The future."
"…Twins," he muttered, grimacing.
Yukino's lips twitched, just slightly. Then her hands curled against her skirt. "Do you… believe it?"
Hachiman's eyes lowered. "…I don't know. But… it felt real."
Her breath hitched faintly. She turned her face away, her cheeks pale but tinged with color. "…Then what do we do with that knowledge?"
He was silent for a long moment. Then, finally, he said: "…We face it. Like always."
She turned back to him. Their eyes met. And for once, neither looked away.