Youth is a lie; something I learned the hard way in this world.
How do I know? Various factors confirm it. To begin with, what is this stage of life, really?
Just empty laughter, school stress, and fake romances that consume you… and, if you're lucky, last a year or two.
Studying, huh? Yeah, right. Everyone knows we only really care about elementary school and university; everything in between is just for socializing and making friends.
Which means that if you don't make friends, what's left for you then?
A loner sitting in the back of the classroom, surrounded by shady comments… started by someone who I thought was a friend.
But she wasn't.
And because of that, now I'm far from that place.
I thought about all of this while staring out the bus window. I was in Tokyo, heading to Advanced Nature High School.
And how is it that I, the loner par excellence, Hikigaya Hachiman, was about to enter one of the best schools in all of Japan?
Well, it all goes back to middle school.
A failed confession had dragged me into an even worse kind of ostracism than before. Everything was tolerable up to a point, at least while the blows were only moral. But when the bullying turned physical, that changed.
The so-called funny guys in class thought it was hilarious to hit me, claiming they were "protecting" the girl.
I could endure it up to a point. I even noticed the uncomfortable faces of my classmates, but none of them intervened.
I let it slide… until the day I saw them smashing my bike, laughing their heads off.
For no one in particular.
That time I got angry.
To hell with peace, I thought for a moment.
I ran with all my strength and punched one straight in the nose. There were two of them, and they weren't the strongest, but still, it was almost impossible to avoid their blows. At some point, I was pushed to the ground.
And then I saw her.
Orimoto.
She was only a few meters away, waiting for her friends. She saw me, we made eye contact. Her face showed surprise.
But after taking in the situation, she turned around, greeted her friends, and left.
Why?
Why?
WHY!?
…
I didn't care much about others' opinions. At least not until that day. Lying on the ground, I decided that if I couldn't beat them with strength, I'd do it with evidence.
I pulled out my phone, set it to record, and hid it under a nearby bike.
I got up with difficulty. The guys, still laughing, called me "Yakuza Eyes." This time I provoked them on purpose, making sure the bruises would be visible. And I succeeded. When they finally left, they spat on me and laughed as always.
I picked up my phone, praying it had caught everything. Then I went back to the classroom, photographed my desk covered in scribbles and nasty messages, and finally went home.
I uploaded the photos and videos online through multiple accounts, even paid to promote them. The comments exploded:
"What is this?"
"This is inhuman."
"That's bullying."
"Expel them."
I had already warned the school before, and they did nothing. So I went for a bigger fish. Once the video went viral across much of Japan, I filed a formal complaint against the school administration. With evidence and public pressure.
The response was immediate.
There were hearings, mediations, and of course, my parents showed up. Busy as they always were, they were still my parents. They worried about me.
I got scolded for letting things go so far, and the worst scolding came from Komachi. But in the end, I succeeded: not only were the ones who hit me expelled, but also those who vandalized my desk… and even the homeroom teacher who saw it all and did nothing.
From a group of thirty, we ended up with just twenty students.
Eventually, my solitude grew. No more whispers, no more insults—just indifference. Not exactly better, but definitely an improvement.
A personal victory, if you want to call it that. But even so, my social life was in ruins. Komachi's constant insistence that I make friends, along with my parents' concern, eventually pushed me to leave Chiba. My father even agreed to pay for an apartment.
One day, he came home holding a pamphlet:
Advanced Nature High School.
According to him, it was one of the most prestigious schools in all of Japan. According to me… just another place full of hormonal teenagers, cheap drama, and fake smiles.
Still, at least it would be a change of scenery. And if even fifty percent of what they promised was true, it might be worth it.
The only problem was leaving Komachi alone at home.
"Don't worry, onii-chan. It's only two years. After that, I'll go to your school myself," she told me with a smile.
I could only sigh and hope that was true.
I prepared for the entrance exam. At first, I had planned to aim for Sōbu, a high-performing school, so I just had to push myself a bit harder. It was difficult, but I managed to pass. Still, the test had oddities—questions placed too strategically, as if they were looking for more than just academic skill.
The strangest part was the interview. They knew things about me before I even said them. I could only conclude that this school was anything but normal. After all, it was an elite school.
Eventually, I received my acceptance letter. That day, my family took me out to the fanciest restaurant in Chiba. They celebrated my graduation from middle school and my admission to Advanced.
I won't deny it: there were farewells, tears, and plenty of hugs. Even my father showed affection, which was rare.
On the day I left, Komachi hugged me tightly and handed me a bag of cookies.
"Onii-chan, don't forget about Komachi."
"I won't," I replied, patting her head.
She accepted my affection with a slight pout and, before I could stop, added:
"Also, make lots of friends! And why not find a sister-in-law for your adorable imouto, Komachi? Kyaa, that must've earned me a lot of Komachi points!"
I just kept patting her head more firmly.
"I'll try… I can't promise anything, Komachi. But if it's for you, I'll give it a shot."
After that, I grabbed my bags and got into the car heading to Tokyo.
…
I tried to sleep on the bus. I closed my eyes, but before drowsiness could take over, a loud voice echoed.
"You shouldn't be sitting there!"
Shit.
I opened my eyes. A blond, muscular guy in the same uniform as mine was occupying a priority seat. In front of him, an elderly woman barely managed to stand with her cane, while a young office worker confronted him.
"Why should I give up my seat?" the guy asked arrogantly.
"Because it's the right thing to do," the office worker shot back with conviction.
"Ha. According to who? My beautiful body may be strong, but it still needs rest. Besides, giving up your seat is just a suggestion. I don't have to do it."
And, in a sense, he was right. People often abuse those privileges. It's hard to know who truly needs them and who doesn't.
But here, it was obvious.
"Please, could you give up your seat?" asked a girl with light brown, almost golden hair, her voice soft and her face radiating kindness.
If I had to add anything else… she was extremely pretty. And yes, she had good attributes.
Despite her charm—something that could've swayed most men—the guy refused without hesitation.
"I don't care. Like I said, it's only a suggestion."
Her frustration was visible, and the office worker's anger grew. The girl looked around, searching desperately for another free seat. Finding none, she turned to the bus.
"Could someone please give their seat to the lady?"
Her voice was almost pleading, her eyes slightly sad, yet there was something… strange about it, as if more was at play.
The elderly woman could barely keep standing.
And even so, despite the girl's pleas, no one moved.
Shit.
Without overthinking it, I put on my headphones, stood up, and gestured for the old woman to take my seat. She smiled gratefully. The girl's face lit up, radiant. The office worker, satisfied, let her anger subside.
And just like that, everything went back to normal.
What a way to start the school year.