The sensation was familiar by now—that floating, disconnected feeling of existing somewhere between consciousness and sleep. Hachiman's mind drifted in that strange liminal space where reality blurred at the edges.
[Brain Drop-off Box]
[Cerebellum Drop-off Box]
Just deposit all rational thought here, thanks. He wouldn't be needing it for a while.
"Hachiman..."
The voice cut through the fog of his dreams, soft and melodic. A woman's voice.
This has to be a dream, he thought hazily.
"Hachiman~"
There it was again. Besides Mom and Komachi, what woman in his life would ever call him by his first name? Hell, what woman in his life would call him anything at all, period?
Definitely a dream. Had to be.
"Mmm~ Hachiman... Hachiman... Hachimaaaan~~"
The way she drew out his name, all breathy and sweet—
AGH! The sugar content is off the charts!
The sheer saccharine overload jolted Hachiman awake like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head.
His eyes snapped open.
An unfamiliar ceiling. Unfamiliar walls. An unfamiliar room.
And most importantly—an extremely unfamiliar woman filling his entire field of vision.
She had glossy crimson hair that caught the morning light streaming through the window, cascading over shoulders that led down to a figure that could only be described as criminally generous. Her chest alone defied several laws of physics. Sparkling blue eyes gazed down at him, brimming with infectious energy and warmth.
"W-who are you?!"
Hachiman's mind went completely blank. All higher brain functions had apparently taken an extended vacation.
Where the hell did this bombshell come from? She was gorgeous—like, national idol level gorgeous. The kind of girl who'd never look twice at someone like him in the real world.
"Hmm?"
The beauty tilted her head, her expression shifting into an adorable pout. "Honestly, Hachiman! Don't tell me you've already forgotten?"
She puffed out her cheeks in an exaggerated display of mock indignation.
"Come on, sleepyhead—up you get! You promised we'd go out and do some street photography today, remember?"
"Street... photography?" Hachiman repeated dumbly, his brain still struggling to catch up with whatever alternate reality he'd stumbled into.
"Yeah! Photos!" She beamed at him with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever who'd just been told it was walkies time. "Not to brag or anything, but my camera skills are legendary. I could make even the cutest little sister in the entire world look like just another random passerby. That's how good I am!"
Hachiman blinked. "Someone as pretty as you... honestly, letting me take your photos would be a total waste of your looks."
It was the blunt truth. He'd probably just end up taking terrible shots with his finger half-covering the lens or something equally pathetic.
"But I only want you to take them~"
She leaned in closer, her head tilting at that devastating angle girls somehow instinctively knew how to do. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, utterly radiant.
That's totally unfair!
His heart hammered against his ribcage like it was trying to break free.
"Ah! I almost forgot..."
She suddenly perked up, as if remembering something important.
Then she leaned even closer.
Her flawless face filled Hachiman's entire vision—those sparkling blue eyes, those soft lips, the faint scent of something sweet and feminine that made his head spin.
"W-wait a second?!"
"What the hell are you doing?!"
Panic surged through him. He grabbed her shoulders instinctively, his dead fish eyes trying desperately to look away even as they were magnetically pulled forward by some terrible gravitational force beyond his control.
Damn you, biology!
"What do you mean, 'what'?" She blinked at him innocently, genuinely confused. "Isn't this our daily routine? Our good-morning kiss?"
She said it so casually, like she was talking about brushing her teeth or having breakfast.
A-a kiss?!
For a guy who'd never even held a girl's hand—like, not even accidentally brushing fingers when returning borrowed pencils—this was an absolutely insane level jump!
Wait. Hold on.
Hachiman forced his overheating brain to slow down and actually think for a second.
"I get it now..."
A sense of calm washed over him as understanding dawned.
"This is just one of those adolescent dreams. A wet dream."
Of course. That explained everything.
By dream logic, this impossibly attractive, energetic, busty bombshell was apparently his wife. Ha! Nice imagination there, brain. Really outdid yourself this time.
But... if this was just a dream anyway...
Maybe he could afford to be a little bold? Just this once?
He allowed his gaze to rake over his spectacular "dream wife," taking in every curve, every detail. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.
No!
Don't turn into a complete drooling pervert!
That'd be awful—even in a dream, scaring her off would suck!
He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. He pressed his palms together in front of his chest and began mentally chanting: Amitabha, Heavenly Lord, God, Komachi—please exorcise this evil from my heart!
"Hehe~"
Her giggle was like music, light and teasing.
"You know, Hachiman... there's really no need to hold yourself back~~"
She leaned in even closer, her breath tickling his ear as she whispered the most dangerous words he'd ever heard:
"Today's a safe day~~~"
SNAP!
The thin string called reason inside Hachiman's mind broke clean in half.
Sorry, Komachi.
Your big brother's caving in.
He tried. He really did.
But this is just too much for a teenage boy to handle.
(Time Skip – Because Some Things Are Better Left to the Imagination)
"Ding-a-ling~"
"WHAM!"
Hachiman's fist came down on his alarm clock like the hammer of an angry god, crushing it into plastic and electronic pieces with what could only be described as his Eternal Grip of Destruction.
For the first time in his life, he genuinely wanted to murder that stupid clock.
How dare it wake him up at such a critical moment?!
"Morning, big brother!"
CRASH!
Komachi kicked his bedroom door open with her usual morning energy. The lock had been broken for weeks now—apparently "fixing things" wasn't high on their parents' priority list.
"Ugh, your face looks super weird right now." She perched herself on the edge of his bed frame, leaning in to study him with the keen observational skills of a younger sister. "Lewd dream last night?"
She poked his still-flushed cheek with her finger, grinning like the smug little demon she was.
Sh-shut up!
Hachiman clutched his blanket tighter, already anticipating her usual morning blanket-snatch attack. He'd learned to prepare for it years ago.
"Come on, up, up, UP!" Komachi's cheerful demeanor suddenly cracked, her brow furrowing with genuine concern. Her eyes even misted over a little. "Today's the day you leave for Koudo Ikusei High School..."
"Mom and Dad are seriously insane," she continued, her voice dropping. "Shipping you off to some locked-down school in Tokyo, all by yourself... I still can't believe they're actually going through with this."
Originally, Hachiman had planned to attend Sobu High School—the local school, close to home, perfectly adequate for someone of his mediocre ambitions.
Then, about a month ago, an invitation arrived from Koudo Ikusei High School in Tokyo.
According to the glossy brochure, it was some kind of experimental public-private partnership academy. The rules were bizarre, the curriculum unconventional, and the whole setup screamed "sketchy social experiment."
But that wasn't the selling point.
The real hook was this: three years of completely free tuition, AND guaranteed admission to Tokyo University upon graduation.
Tokyo University. As in, one of the most prestigious universities in the entire country.
Hachiman's first reaction had been immediate and definitive: "Total scam."
Yet somehow, inexplicably, his parents had bought it hook, line, and sinker. They'd signed the enrollment form practically before he'd finished reading the first page.
Their reasoning? "Boys need to learn independence early!"
He'd wanted to cry. Was he adopted or something?
Actually... if he was adopted, would that make things better or worse?
"Ew, gross! Your eyes just went to a really weird place!" Komachi grimaced, genuine disgust on her face.
She was quiet for a moment, then her expression softened.
"Still..." Her voice got smaller, more vulnerable. "Starting tomorrow, my disgusting big brother won't be around anymore. I guess... I guess Komachi's going to be pretty lonely."
Then, just as quickly, her trademark grin returned.
"Oho~ saying something that cute just now? That definitely earned some major Komachi Points!" She tapped the side of her head with her finger, stuck her tongue out, and threw in a wink for good measure.
"Komachi..."
Hachiman could see right through her act. After more than a decade as siblings, her tells were obvious. She was trying to stay upbeat for his sake.
"Anyway! Go wash up already!" She bounced toward the door, then paused and glanced back over her shoulder with an evil little smirk. "Oh, and don't worry—I'll wash your sheets for you later~"
"GET OUT!!"
He grabbed his pillow and hurled it at her retreating form, mortification burning through him.
Damn that hyper-realistic dream!
The bullet train to Tokyo was smooth and efficient, cutting through the Japanese countryside at impressive speed. After arriving at the station, Hachiman boarded the dedicated school shuttle bus that would take him the rest of the way to Koudo Ikusei High School.
He chose a seat in the middle-rear section of the bus—not too far forward where the eager overachievers sat, not all the way in the back where the delinquents congregated. A perfectly mediocre position for a perfectly mediocre student.
As more new students boarded, he noticed a familiar pattern emerging.
One by one, they'd walk down the aisle, their eyes would briefly meet his, and then—wordlessly, without any overt acknowledgment—they'd choose to sit somewhere else. Anywhere else.
Every other seat in the bus gradually filled up.
Every seat except the one directly beside him remained conspicuously empty.
It was like elementary school all over again. Middle school too. Field trip flashbacks hit him hard—the whispered jokes about "Hikigaya bacteria," the superstition that sitting next to him would bring bad luck, misfortune, or at minimum, severe social ostracization.
Some things never change, huh?
Then, cutting through his melancholy reminiscence, a girl walked down the aisle.
Unlike everyone else, she didn't slow down or hesitate. Her stride was purposeful, confident. And when she reached his row, she did something unprecedented.
Without a single moment's hesitation, she sat down right beside him.
Stay cool. Zero expectations.
Hachiman kept his expression carefully neutral, his dead fish eyes staring forward at the seat in front of him.
She probably just needed a seat. This is the only empty one left. Don't read into it. Don't get weird. This means absolutely nothing.
The bus engine rumbled to life, and they began moving toward whatever strange new chapter of his life awaited at Koudo Ikusei High School.
[To be continued...]
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