What's a hero, really? A guy who flies around in his underwear pretending gravity is optional? Or a billionaire with untreated PTSD who cosplays as a nocturnal pest, venting his trauma by snapping the bones of street-level criminals—people he could've helped with the spare change lost in his couch cushions? Call it justice if you want. I call it an incredibly expensive coping mechanism.
Anyway, I'm not a hero. I'm not even the pathetic kind that at least tries. I'm just a regular high schooler with a suspiciously "perfect" logic and a borderline unhealthy attachment to my little sister. (Yeah, yeah—I love you, Komachi. There, the "Big Brother" tax is paid.)
Don't get me wrong, I'm not against the idea of heroes. It's just hard to be a fan when they're the ones running the place. Since the 1500s, history hasn't been written by the people; it's been dictated by "Great Men." Figures like Gilgamesh, Iskandar, Ozymandias… larger-than-life egos with the power to bend the world's geography and politics around their whims. We don't live in a society; we live in the shape they left behind. Is that bad? Not really. If anything, it's efficient. Let the ones with overwhelming, god-like ability decide how the world turns. It saves the rest of us the trouble of pretending our opinions matter.
There's probably a reason they're called "Heroic Spirits." It's the ultimate irony. They're the only ones who seem truly alive, while the rest of us are just ghosts haunting the machinery of their empires.
Right… what was I saying? Ah, yeah. This dream. It feels real. Annoyingly, viscerally real.
"Hikigaya, stop monologuing! You're gonna get killed!"
The guy yelling at me is Tsukasa Kadoya. Back when we met, he looked like your average, irritating socialite—the kind of "world traveler" who'd drag me into a conversation I never asked for. Now? He looks like a walking Max Coffee barcode. I'm not even sure when that happened. Did reality finally give up trying to render him properly, or was he always this gaudy? Can he even be scanned? That feels like an important question.
Swish.
I look to my left. A cluster of swords is now vibrating in the wall where my head was a second ago. Totally normal. I almost get skewered, and somehow I'm supposed to react like this is a legitimate situation. But come on. There's a limit to my suspension of disbelief.
This is a dream. A long, detailed, annoyingly immersive dream—but a dream nonetheless.
"Get a grip, Hachiman! This isn't a dream!"
Yeah, sure. It's a dream… that just hasn't ended yet. Where did it start? Right. I remember now.
Two Days Earlier
It had been roughly forty-eight hours since the "weirdness" began leaking into Hachiman Hikigaya's life. But really, what else could he expect? Expecting a normal life—aside from his cherished fantasy of becoming a professional house husband—was asking for the bare minimum, and the universe rarely granted him even that.
"Hmmm… yumm… hssmmm…"
Hachiman glanced toward the sofa. A single, defiant strand of hair—the legendary Hikigaya ahoge—poked up over the cushions. He walked closer to find his little sister buried in a magazine. He often questioned why she read things she couldn't possibly relate to. A feature on "What couples wear on a first date"? She didn't even have a boyfriend. And any boy who tried to fill that vacancy would have to navigate a minefield laid by her brother first.
"That article is as dumb as the tree stump it was printed on," Hachiman noted, looming over her. "What part of this is even remotely relatable to you?"
"Ehhh? Is that what you say to your cute little sister first thing in the morning?" Komachi didn't even look up.
"Anyway, it's time," he continued, reminding her that school still existed, regardless of her fashion research.
"Wait, seriously?" She finally blinked at him, leaving Hachiman unsure if she was shocked by the magazine's stupidity or the fact that the morning had already escaped her.
"Wipe your mouth first," he said, taking his seat. Waiting for him on the table were two pieces of toast.
"Huh? Is it jam?"
"You know your mouth isn't an automatic rifle, right? Do you even know what a 'jam' actually is?"
"You know, Oni-chan, sometimes I have no idea what you're talking about. But don't worry, I still love you!"
With that, she tossed her discarded shirt and pants directly at his face.
"Clean the dishes for me, okay!" she called out, already rushing toward the door.
This kid, Hachiman thought, peeling the laundry off his head. Thank God she's cute. Otherwise, I'd probably shove her off the peak of Mount Everest.
ah little sister, the more you live with them the more you don't felt anything even if you jump in pools of their underware. oh don't make it weird view, this author actually more cynical as i am so don't find it weird why i am saying this, this is completely outside my power.
Hachiman climbed onto his bicycle, and a moment later, his sister hopped onto the back, wrapping her arms around him.
"Remember, Oni-chan—no getting wrecked this time. Today, I'm with you."
"Oh, so it's fine if I get wrecked by a car as long as I'm alone?"
"Oni-chan, that's not what I meant! Honestly, I worry about your cynical thinking and those dead-fish eyes. Hey, I definitely earned a lot of Komachi Points for that, didn't I?"
Yes, my dear sister, Hachiman thought. You did, in fact, earn a lot of points.
after hikigaya get into accident in the past, she never lets him live it down..
-
He get bit exited as it his first day of school back the, so he go to school 1 hour early, you can't blame him, it his time to reset everything. Then a dog thought it a great idea to run toward the streets, forcing him to save that little guy. after that i find my self in hospital. in that very moment i know my school life i over before it started .
-
"Now I remember it correctly," she said. "The dog owner came over to say thanks. She even brought a dessert for you, and it was really good."
"Oh, I see. Now that I think about it... I never actually got to eat any of that dessert, did I?"
"Ah... ehehehe. I kind of ate it."
"You brat. Did you only just remember that now? Did you even get her name?"
"Well, I kind of forgot! Ehek!"
Stop with the 'ehek.'
"Okay, goodbye Oni-chan! I love you!" She started running toward the school entrance, only to skid to a halt and dash back toward him. "Ahhh! Oni-chan!"
She'd forgotten her bag.
This kid...
--
--
He clutched his stomach after taking Hiratsuka-sensei's "Shocking First Bullet" right to the gut. He really didn't understand this woman. He had done exactly what she asked; the essay prompt was "What do you want to be?"
He had simply written a 300-word manifesto on why he wanted to be a professional house husband. Who set the rule that only women can stay home and do housework? This was discrimination! Discrimination against his very species!
"Hikigaya... are you thinking something cynical again?"
"Wait, wait! I didn't—I di—"
"NOT-SO-SHOCKING SECOND BULLET!"
"Ugh!"
--
The Service Club room.
He slid the door open to find Yukinoshita in her usual spot by the window. She looked up, her expression flickering with genuine surprise. "You didn't see her?"
"See who?"
Just then, the door burst open, revealing Yuigahama. "Hey! Hikki!"
"What's with you, Yuigahama?" Did she get her period or something? That was the exact thought that flashed through Hachiman's mind in that very instant.
"Well, since you haven't shown your face in the clubroom for the last two days, Yuigahama has been... searching for you," Yukinoshita explained.
"Why didn't you just find me in the classroom?"
"Well, that's because you're always gone the second class ends!"
"Then maybe find me before I get up from my seat?"
"Well—well—ugh! Hikki!"
Hachiman wasn't sure what to do with her. Though, on second thought, it was probably better that Yuigahama didn't seek him out in class; he didn't need her social reputation being tainted by his mere existence.
"Actually, Yuigahama, you did a great job," he muttered.
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean? Anyway, why didn't you come to the clubroom?"
There it was. The million-yen question. How was he supposed to say he needed to reset his brain after "that incident"? Well, Yuigahama, sorry to inform you, but some god just assigned me and two other guys to become the heroes of the multiverse. It sounded so cringe he wanted to throw up. Maybe his middle-school self would have been thrilled enough to pee his pants, but his current self just saw it as an inexplicable hassle.
"Well... my cat is pregnant"
That was a total lie. Kamakura has a dick. He is one-hundred percent male cat with zero signs of being transgender.
"Your cat... is pregnant?"
"Y-yeah. She gets a bit clingy when she's... expecting. I had to stay home for a bit to keep her company, but it's my sister's turn today. That's the only reason I could make it to the clubroom."
"But I'm pretty sure Komachi said it was a male..." Yuigahama muttered something else under her breath, but he couldn't quite catch the rest.
"What was that?"
"Ah, nothing! Anyway, give me your phone number!"
"Why?"
"B-because! Because, you know! Since we're both club members, it's basically a professional obligation! Yeah, that's it!"
You definitely just made that rule up on the spot, He sighed internally. Still, I handed the device over. Whatever her real motive was, I didn't have the mental energy to dissect it.
Tick, tick, tick—
Her thumbs moved with a terrifying speed that actually caught me off guard.
"You're pretty fast at that."
"It's just normal. Though, Hikki probably doesn't do things like this often, right?"
"Hey, that's rude. I'll have you know I actually chatted with a girl back in middle school."
Her eyes went wide. Total, systemic shock. Her grip vanished, and my phone went into a free-fall, clattering violently onto the floor.
"no way"
"OI! That's my phone!"
"Ah! Sorry, sorry!"
he snatched the device off the floor, thanking whatever gods were left that nothing was broken. Truly, forged by Nokia.
"Listen to this, you moron. Back when everyone was busy exchanging numbers, I took my phone and looked around..."
Flashback
Hachiman stood there, clutching his phone with a desperation he'd since buried. "H-hey... want to exchange numbers?"
He forced a smile—a jagged, terrifying expression that looked less like a friendly gesture and more like a facial cramp. The girl recoiled, her face twisting into a mask of pure concern. "Uhrk—... s-sure?"
"You might say I was popular enough for her to actually accept," I said, leaning back with a misplaced sense of pride.
"Hikki..." Yuigahama's voice was thick with a pity I hadn't asked for.
"Don't waste your sympathy, Yuigahama," Yukinoshita interjected, her eyes never leaving her book. "If anything, you should worry about the girl. She displayed a level of bravery usually reserved for bomb disposal units, interacting with Hikigaya as a person—let alone messaging him."
"Tch."
I looked down at my phone. My contact list now featured Yuigahama's name, currently surrounded by an unnecessary amount of heart emojis. It looked less like a friend's contact and more like a sender line for a high-risk spam message.
"oho~~... Hikigaya -You actually had a friend in middle school?"
The voice drifted in from the doorway. I turned to find Tsukasa Kadoya leaning against the frame, wearing a grin that usually signaled a headache for everyone else in the room.
"Why the hell are you here, Tsukasa? And how did you even find me?"
"I asked Madam Hiratsuka, duh." His grin widened as he strolled into the room with an air of ownership. "Oh, even Yuigahama is here! And... who?"
Tsukasa pointed a finger toward Yukinoshita. I opened my mouth to answer, but she beat me to the punch with her usual cold efficiency.
"Yukinoshita Yukino, Class 2-J. You are Tsukasa Kadoya, the new transfer student from 2-F, correct?"
"Oho!" Tsukasa gave my arm a sharp, annoying nudge with his elbow. "Look at that, Hikigaya. I'm so popular even the ice queen looking girl has my dossier, am I right?"
"Don't let it go to your head," I muttered, shaking him off. "She makes it her business to know everyone in this school."
"Except you, of course, Hikigaya," Yukinoshita added smoothly. "I had no idea you existed until recently."
"Tch. No need to remind me of that," I muttered, turning my back on her sharp tongue to face the source of my current headache. "So, what do you want, Tsukasa? As far as I'm aware, that 'event' isn't scheduled until Saturday."
"Oh, well, I just wanted to drop by and mention that I found the missing piece of the puzzle we've been looking for!"
"And that's it? You came all the way here just to give me a status update?"
"Well... not exactly. Oi, come in!" Tsukasa called out toward the hallway.
A boy stepped into the room, and the first thing that hit me was his aura. He had auburn hair and striking golden eyes—the kind of face that belonged squarely in the 'normie' category. No, he was beyond that. He was a full-blown riajuu.
"Hey, Hikigaya. I didn't expect to find you at the same school," the newcomer said, his voice carrying a level of sincerity that made my skin crawl.
Tsukasa threw his arms out wide like a circus ringmaster. "YES! I FOUND HIM! MEET EMIYA SHIROU!"
to be continue