Chapter 29: The Service Club
"Pfft—"
Kazama Chiba couldn't hold back a short burst of laughter.
Though he'd already known the contents of this masterpiece, actually seeing those words in black and white on essay paper still packed quite a shocking impact.
Was this the legendary self-destructing truck?
Looking at that final line, Hiratsuka Shizuka raised her head and stared at Hikigaya with the expression of someone examining a new type of hazardous waste.
"Looks like you have excellent self-awareness."
"Hikigaya, I asked you to reflect on high school life, not write a book report on Crime and Punishment or publish a terrorist manifesto. Though I knew you were twisted, I didn't realize you'd twisted to the point of needing riot police."
"Um, Hiratsuka-sensei, this is called critical thinking."
Hikigaya still tried to find cover under that overwhelming pressure.
"I think this represents my genuine thoughts. After all, the essay requirement was to write true feelings, so I think I was being very honest."
"Honest?"
Hiratsuka Shizuka let out a cold laugh.
"Fine, since you're so honest—"
She stood up and walked over to Hikigaya. That oppressive aura made him instinctively retreat a step.
"Then you can stand there and reflect until those dead fish eyes can cry tears of genuine regret."
"...Yes."
Hikigaya obediently complied, plastering himself against the wall like a dried salted fish.
Having dealt with the most troublesome one, Hiratsuka Shizuka turned her head toward the remaining two, her expression softening slightly.
"I called you here because of club activities."
She flipped through the registration forms on her desk.
"Kazama, Urushihara—neither of you have filled out club application forms yet, right? School regulations require all students to join a club in principle. I checked your files—you're both currently in the Go-Home Club. Any thoughts?"
"Yes, sensei."
Urushihara Michiyo raised her hand first.
"I'm very interested in music! I studied guitar a little before, so I'd like to check out the light music club or similar music clubs!"
"Oh? Music, huh."
Hiratsuka Shizuka nodded, obviously satisfied with this answer.
"Though the school's light music club has been a bit chaotic lately, with your personality you should fit in fine. Go ahead then. Get the application form from the supervising teacher over there."
"Thank you, sensei!"
Urushihara Michiyo smiled and bowed.
Before leaving, she deliberately turned around and winked that large eye at Kazama Chiba, who still stood in place.
"Then I'll go scout ahead first, Chiha-kun. If you can't find a club, you can also come to the light music club and be my manager, you know? I really see potential in you~"
Without waiting for Kazama's retort, she drifted out of the office on a wave of fragrance.
"That person..."
Kazama Chiba watched her back, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.
That overly familiar attitude was really troublesome.
"Alright, stop staring. Your turn, Kazama."
Hiratsuka Shizuka redirected her attention to Kazama Chiba.
"What are your plans?"
Kazama Chiba said nothing, just stared at the mop in the corner battling dust for a while. He was thinking about how to dodge this.
Join a sports club? Too exhausting.
Join a cultural club? Too noisy.
"Sensei—"
He raised his head with a sincere expression.
"Actually, I have a dream."
"Speak."
"I want to join a club that doesn't require attendance at activities, doesn't charge club fees, and preferably provides a monthly stipend so I can buy bread."
From his corner punishment spot, Hikigaya couldn't help but turn around and shoot him a "kindred spirit" look.
"..."
"Are you here to retire at school? Or did you mistake this place for your private resort?"
A clear vein popped on Hiratsuka Shizuka's forehead.
"Rejected. That kind of club only exists in dreams. Don't even think about it."
"Or are you saying I should classify you in the 'non-burnable garbage' category along with that dead fish eyes over there?"
"No, I think I can still be salvaged."
Kazama Chiba immediately backtracked.
"Then I'll follow sensei's arrangements. As long as it's not cleaning toilets."
Hiratsuka Shizuka sighed.
She looked at Hikigaya in the corner with his expression of utter despair, then at Kazama Chiba in front of her with his "I want to die" face.
These two guys.
One became twisted from being ostracized by others.
One was inherently twisted, so even without ostracism he seemed twisted.
A perfect match.
"Fine, come with me."
Hiratsuka Shizuka stood and walked to the corner, grabbing the collar of Hikigaya Hachiman, who was trying to camouflage himself as a photosynthesizing plant.
"Where to?" Hikigaya looked terrified.
"Since neither of you have proper clubs to join, as a responsible teacher I can only send you to a place that can correct those twisted personalities of yours."
Hiratsuka Shizuka revealed a benevolent smile.
"Don't worry, it's a good place. Very... suitable for you both."
...
Ten minutes later.
The special building.
This was part of the old school building. Due to years of disrepair and its remote location, people rarely came here.
Hiratsuka Shizuka led them to a classroom at the very end.
A crude wooden sign hung on the door.
Written on it in flowing calligraphy were three large characters:
"Service Club"
Kazama Chiba stared at that sign for a long time.
Then he turned his head to look at Hikigaya Hachiman beside him.
"Hey, Hikigaya. Don't you think this name sounds a bit... you know?"
"Ah."
Hikigaya's dead fish eyes instantly lit up—the glow of finding a kindred spirit.
"Absolutely that. I'd bet the person who came up with this name has a brain full of late-night pay-per-view content, or some weird fetish involving maid outfits and whips."
"Same thought," Kazama Chiba nodded. "Feels like once you go in, you'll be forced to sign some kind of indenture contract, then by a bunch of people wearing strange clothes..."
"..."
Hiratsuka Shizuka didn't speak.
She simply raised her fist silently.
Then—
"THUNK!"
"THUNK!"
Two dull impacts.
Kazama Chiba and Hikigaya simultaneously clutched their heads and squatted down.
"That hurts..."
"My brain matter's coming out..."
Hiratsuka Shizuka blew on the nonexistent dust on her fist.
"You two guys with brains full of filthy garbage—"
"Hurry up and get in there with grateful hearts."
She kicked the door open.
Then, like carrying two bags of non-recyclable trash, she tossed these two boys still rubbing their heads into the classroom.
Afternoon sunlight poured unreservedly throughout the entire classroom.
Inside was mostly empty, with countless old desks and chairs piled haphazardly in the corner.
Only by the window, a single girl sat quietly.
She kept her head lowered, holding a coverless paperback novel in her hands. Her long, straight black hair cascaded like a waterfall over her shoulders, with several strands blown by the wind, gently brushing against her pale, almost translucent cheeks.
Hearing the commotion, the girl didn't immediately look up—she just turned a page.
Only when Hiratsuka Shizuka entered with two noise sources did she slowly close the book and raise her head.
Those cool, detached eyes swept across the three faces.
Finally settling on Kazama Chiba.
Without any emotional fluctuation, like looking at a roadside stone or a piece of waste paper.
"Hiratsuka-sensei."
The girl's voice was pleasant.
Clear, clean, yet carrying that coldness that kept people at a thousand-meter distance.
"I recall saying you should knock before entering. This is the most basic human etiquette. Has your menopause become so severe that you've forgotten even this common sense?"