All Right! Fine! I’ll Take You! – Zaimokuza Gaiden – Chapter 9

Should the august lion concern himself with the ramblings of a boorish hyena?

Well, the obvious answer would be no, because he’s a lion and has very big jaws (grandiose… no, huge? Ugh, this will bother me all day), and the hyenas… Actually, I think they have stronger jaws. And there was that Disney movie that showed what happens to a lion when numerical superiority plays a part, and…

All right, maybe the lion should pay a smidge of attention to what the cowardly, despicable, lowly hyenas may be plotting against him.

“Hey, Zaimokuza! Nice!” I smile and nod at Handsome Guy Number Three from my class. Mostly, to show him my teeth are in perfect condition and that, if it comes to it, I won’t back down from his own displayed canines.

…

Maybe I should’ve learned my classmates’ names at some point.

Not quite grumbling about the advantages of hindsight, I take out my lunchbox and… And, well, nothing.

Because at this hour the Lady Minami should be getting disciplined by Hachiman’s master (actually, mistress, but their relationship is too rooted in manliness and the consumption of ramen for me to demean her by a title apparently lesser, as it is rarely displayed in martial characters other than young mistresses that will get their comeuppance sooner rather than later—ugh, xanxia is so predictable). Which means I don’t have anybody to share the bounty of my lunch with.

… I had prepared a few omelets aux fines herbes. The Lady Minami looks like someone who would appreciate Western cuisine, especially if it had a pretentious French name. Seriously, it’s just adding a bit of garlic and parsley; no need to be so grandiloquent about it.

Foreigners.

Anyway, it looks like I’ll have to take care of the extra food by myself, which won’t do me any favors when it comes to fitting into my increasingly stretched compressive vest.

… I could always notfinish the dish.

I mean, it’s not some kind of deep revelation, a moment of insight that breaks through the fog of the mundane to grant a message carried from above. It’s just… Not eating everything on my plate.

…

I abhor the very notion.

“Are you actually going to eat that, or are you trying to gauge its aesthetic properties?” a voice that lacks in manliness and forcefulness because it’s always far too concerned with paltry details comments from above my shoulder.

Shigeru’s voice. The Lady Minami’s brother.

… Is this what a cold sweat feels like? Oh, how very interesting. I should document the experience immediately so I can properly reference it the next time the heroes intrude upon a dark domain whose master they know not.

“Zaimokuza, it’s rude to start writing and pretend the brother of the girl you’ve very publicly kissed isn’t right behind you.”

… Damn it.

“Oh, Shigeru! To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence in this classroom of mine that isn’t, at all, an assassination classroom, no matter what rumors you may have heard otherwise?” The girl sitting on the desk next to me turns for a moment, looks at me, at my trenchcoat and fingerless gloves, turns slightly pale, and goes back to pretending I don’t exist.

I wonder why.

“I’m pretty sure there are no rumors about that,” Shigeru says.

“Well! Good! Because they would be false if there were any. No murder between these walls, as far as I’m aware of.”

He’s covering his eyes with his palm. A chance!

I raise as swiftly as my fit body—

“Get over here!” he growls in his best Scorpion impression as he yanks me back by my collar.

“Urgh!” I eloquently answer—given the circumstances.

“Zaimokuza, if you’re done being… Zaimokuza, I’d like to have a little chat.”

“No good ever comes from a man asking you to have a little something. Go for a walk? No problem. Go for a little walk? Somebody’s not coming back.”

Shigeru looks at me blankly for a moment. Then a grin slowly crawls over his face as he manages to get that glint of light over his glasses that turn the lenses momentarily opaque.

… Damn. I’m jealous.

“Grab your lunch, Zaimokuza. And let’s have a little chat.”

The words resonate in what, thus far, had been an assassination-free classroom.

The girl sitting next to me keeps studiously ignoring my plight.

And, once again, it is proven that those inhabiting the domain of the dreaded riajuus won’t lift a finger to save the life of one such as I.

At least hyenas have the decency of biting themselves…

***

The Gamers Club room has oft been a solace for weary hearts, a refugee for those that seek in fiction the peace they can’t find in the cruel circumstances that surround them, a meadow shielding one from the sandstorm of the mundane that wears away at the very soul, a—

“Would you take a seat already?” Shigeru grumbles.

Right. Suffice to say, it currently is anything but.

Mostly because it’s just Shigeru and me in these hallowed halls, and I’m kind of in the mood for potential witnesses.

Shigeru looks at a chair in front of him.

I look at a chair in the opposite corner of the room.

Shigeru grunts.

I sit down.

In front of him.

Damn it.

“Finally…” he grumbles.

And then proceeds to take out his own lunchbox and open it.

Plain white rice with a dash of color offered by the plum—

I mean, what?

“Well? Aren’t you gonna eat or what?” he mumbles through a mouthful of the very rice I was contemplating mere moments ago.

How uncouth.

“I’ve told you a thousand times not to speak with your mouth full, no matter how expedient you find it as a solution,” I say as I open my own lunchbox and spear a carefully cut portion of pretentiously French omelet with my chopsticks.

Ah! Just the right amount of fluffiness, the egg beaten with enough air to keep a pleasant consistency and fried at precisely the right temperature! The dash of fried garlic adds just—

“So, already fucked my sister, have you?” Shigeru nonchalantly asks.

I, as befits one of my dignity and station, very elegantly proceed to choke on a piece of fluffy omelet.

I wonder if it has enough air inside it to sustain me until I can receive proper CPR?

‘Don’t worry. The main danger of asphyxiation is brain damage, so you aren’t likely to notice any effects.’

Ah, Inner Hachiman, I was wondering where you had gone.

‘After Sagami kissed you in front of the whole school and then proceeded to beat up the girls responsible for you two getting into a relationship? Taking a drug test. It seemed prudent.’

Certainly.

‘You’re no longer choking, by the way. So, maybe you could talk with the brother of said kisser-slash-puncher.’

Once more, your reckless willingness to throw me into danger and see me rise above my limits through the forge of adversity shows how much you care about me, Inner Hachiman.

‘… And now I don’t think it was me who should have gone through that drug screening.’

“I hope you are using condoms. I’m too young to be an uncle.”

“We aren’t doing any—we aren’t doing that!”

Shigeru raises an eyebrow.

“I… we haven’t had—haven’t made… My relationship with the Lady Minami…”

He raises another.

“I’m still a virgin!”

He tilts his head down until he manages to get another light glint on his glasses and proceeds to stroke his chin as if he had any kind of facial hair worthy of such a gesture.

‘You’re just jealous he manages the glasses thing.’

Damn right I am.

“Really?” he finally says.

I frantically nod.

“You aren’t fucking my sister?”

I shake my head so hard I start to get dizzy.

“Why the fuck not?”

And then I proceed to choke once again, even though there’s no piece of pretentiously French omelet in my throat.

Invisible Frenchs. My only weakness.

‘Only?’

Shut up. I’m dying. Let me enjoy the peace of silence in my final moments.

‘Wanna bet those will be your mother’s last words?’

That is… a bit harsh?

‘It stopped you from choking, didn’t it?’

“No, seriously, why aren’t you? I was hoping you may dislodge that stick that she has surgically attached—”

“You’re talking about your sister!”

Shigeru tilts his head in bird-like incomprehension.

Oh! A race of anthropomorphized birds, with a caste structure according to the particular breed, with hawks being the knights of the setting! Owls would obviously be the scholars and mages, and the character design could use robes reminiscent of wings folded over—

‘Stop running away. Also, hawks should obviously be the villains who prey on other birds. If it was an isekai, maybe someone trained in falconry could—’

“Well, yeah. It’s not like there’s any other girl I would particularly care for you to ahegao.”

“Shigeru! What the fuck?!”

“No, really, she would be so much more tolerable if you mind broke her just a tiny bit—”

There’s a clattering sound.

Ah, it seems in my haste to stand up, I may have dropped my lunchbox.

Also, it appears I’ve snapped my chopsticks in half.

And I’m kind of panting.

Shigeru’s smirking.

“Oh? Is there anything you would like to say, Zaimokuza?”

“You’ll stop besmirching the good name of the Lady Minami right now—”

And he laughs.

Uproariously, unreservedly, stridently.

Basically, in every way I’ve never seen the younger Sagami sibling laugh.

“Ah, man, that was totally worth it. Relax, Blade Master General, just fucking with you.”

I look at him askance, pondering the likelihood of him having been replaced by a nefarious secret organization with nebulous goals and a threat level that properly escalates with the main character’s development.

“Well, not the way you’ll be fucking with my sister, of course,” he adds.

“Shigeru! What the fuck!”

And he laughs again.

Apparently, I’m hilarious when I swear.

It must be one of my sister’s motivators.

“Oh, man, you should’ve seen your face!”

‘I disagree. You’ve got enough trauma already to keep looking at the mirror.’

Inner Hachiman!

‘Oh, what do you know, the brat’s actually right: this is fun.’

… You’re despicable.

‘Praise me more.’

“Hey, you gonna keep mumbling, or will you at least try to rescue whatever’s salvageable of your lunch—”

My food!

‘Ah. Priorities.’

Uncaring of the opinions of my lessers, both within and without, I drop to the ground and…

Well, it’s a good thing this box has two stories, because there’s no way I’m eating the rest of the French-like dish. I do believe they would be offended if I tried, if any food-inspired manga was an accurate depiction at all.

… Which I hope they aren’t. I mean, I don’t want to forbid the Lady Minami’s from ever eating food prepared by another man, and that would seem to be the only way to remain monogamous.

And sane.

Also…

Purposefully leaving on the floor the ruined part of my lunch, I sit back on my chair and glare at the impudent cur—

“You aren’t going to clean that?” he says.

I look down at the carefully cut pieces of omelet and the snapped part of my chopsticks.

“No,” I bite out. Then I swallow a portion of rice held between my awkwardly shortened eating utensils.

Shigeru looks down at the spilled food, then at me and my imperious glare that should make lesser men tremble.

“Fair enough,” he says. And then he proceeds to eat his own rice.

And keeps eating.

He even happily mumbles between bites.

…

“What do you actually want, Shigeru?”

“Oh? Sorry, I thought you didn’t like it when we talked while eating.” He has the gall to smirk at me. At least he doesn’t pointlessly flaunt once again his skill with glasses and lighting.

‘I bet he would give you pointers if you asked.’

Never in a million years.

“What I do find grating is that you speak whilst food remains in your mouth.”

“Ah! Right. See? One more thing sis and you have in common.”

… I’m most assuredly not flushing.

“It is a basic tenet of courtesy,” I manage to mumble.

“That’s what shesays,” he claims as he waggles his eyebrows.

“Really?”

“No, she swears a lot more, but it’s the spirit of the thing.”

“The… spirit?”

He looks at me and my uncomprehending face.

“Never mind…” he says. And sighs.

I’m slightly affronted. I do believe it’s me that should have the right to sigh, given the circumstances.

And my lack of nutrition.

… The afternoon classes will be hellish.

“Right… Still, what was that barrage about?”

He pauses in his methodical consumption of the staple food of all proper Japanese who aren’t currently residing in a fantasy world where knowing modern recipes somehow becomes a cheat skill and source of wealth.

“Dude, you’re going to be porking my sister sooner or later and didn’t even think to ask his brother, your friend, how he felt about it.”

“Are you speaking in the third person, or do you have another sibling I haven’t yet identified?”

“… Damn it, you’re contagious,” he says, mystifying me with his nonsensical claim.

“I just mean—”

“I know what you mean; I’m just contemplating the possible ramifications of brain trauma at such a young age.”

“Ah… It’s a subject I’m somewhat knowledgeable about.”

“… You don’t say.”

“Yes. For some mysterious reason, my sister keeps speaking at length to me about it.”

After this claim, Shigeru looks at me for a moment and then starts laughing in a very hyena-like manner.

I should beware of his bite.

“Zaimokuza…” he finally says, slightly breathless, “would you introduce me to your sister.”

I look at him, feeling my own eyebrow raise.

“Sure,” I finally acquiesce.

“Wait, really?”

“I’d usually try to dissuade you from such a reckless course, but I feel like I should just film the whole thing. And share it with your sister.”

“… You read too many NTR doujins.”

“That’s—wait, what are you even—”

“Never mind, I’ll take you at your word that you don’t mind me making a pass at your college-aged sister.”

“Well, I domind. Blood is not easy to get out of the walls.”

“… You need to stop believing your sister is some kind of horror manga character.”

“You need to face the hidden, dark truths of the world.”

“The worst part is, I don’t even know if you’re joking.”

‘Oh, sweet summer child…’

Compassion? From you, Inner Hachiman?

‘Not at all: I’m currently trying to come up with a way to manifest inner-popcorn.’

“Never mind your impending attempt at a creative suicide. What is the reason for your mockery and befouling of mine sustenance, Shigeru?”

“Man, you’re backsliding hard, aren’t you?”

“Uh?”

“You’re too stressed out. Try to drop the ‘mines’ and ‘thousts,’ would you?”

“I…. I’m sure mine speech isn’t that removed from its normal—”

“Sure. Whatever lets you sleep at night after blowing a load out to my sister.”

“Shigeru!”

“Look, I don’t dislike you two being together. Really, I’m actually relieved it’s you and not some muscular, tanned, bleached bond, ugly bastard in training, because that seemed like a likely prospect with the way things were heading—”

“What the Hell are you even talking—”

“My sister… She needs you, Zaimokuza.”

“… What.”

He sets aside his lunchbox on top of the table at his left, and then rests his elbows on his knees before adopting a Gendou pose.

This time, he once again pointlessly flaunts his skill with glasses and lighting.

‘Stop being such a jealous, whiny bitch and ask him for pointers.’

Never!

“It… My sister isn’t like she used to be. I’m sure she’s let it slip that she likes manga far more than a ‘popular girl’ should, but… It’s not just that. She used to be happier. Freer. I don’t know what happened, but… I think having a good, caring boyfriend would help her. A lot.”

“Are… I don’t knowhow to be that, Shigeru. I’m just… me,” I say, trying not to turn the line into an accusation.

And likely failing.

He leans back, his mouth and eyes once again visible.

He has a soft smile on his lips.

“I know. And I think that should be enough.”

The warm look upon his noble countenance is enough to dispel the foul atmosphere between us as I feel the trust of my comrade infuse me with a courage I may desperately need in the times ahead—

“Or, you know, you could just fuck the bitchiness out of her. That would also help.”

“Shigeru!”

He laughs.

In a rather hyena-like fashion, I must say.

‘You’re still feeling mushy by the show of trust, you big softie.’

You can’t prove anything, Inner Hachiman.

***

I leave the room after finishing my (meager, insufficient, Spartan—those are Greek, aren’t they?) lunch, and not a moment later, because Shigeru keeps alternating between shows of trust and lines that make me want to twist his neck until—

“Yoshiteru!” a gentle, maidenly, caring voice calls out to me.

Of course, it isn’t the Lady Minami whose eyes meet my own as I turn around, but Saika’s.

I mean, I think I dropped enough hints about that with those three adjectives.

‘Right, now tell Sagami what you just thought and see how she—’

Does your thirst for blood not know any bounds?

“Geeze! I’ve been looking for you, you know?” mine companion complains as he approaches, a pout on his lips that makes it clear he’s still very much practicing how to best drive Hachiman wild with unrestrained desire.

“Ah! Sorry, Saika, I wasn’t aware. I just got done having a talk with Shigeru. What did you seek my presence for?”

He giggles.

… Should I mention he isn’t wearing a bra? It seems like a weird thing to notice, but…

“Don’t worry, I was just… Well, there are a few rumors floating about, and I wanted to check on you. See if you were all right?”

‘Too pure. That smile is too pure. You cannot dare to pollute it with an ounce of your paltry worries, Zaimokuza!’

Inner Hachiman! Restrain yourself!

‘Never!’

“Ah… It… What have you heard?”

Saika blushes and looks to the side and down as he fidgets with the hem of his sports uniform jacket.

… This can’t be good.

‘I disagree. Vehemently.’

“That you… made out with Sagami and then beat up her former friends. Then went back to making out with her.” His voice almost trembles upon the last addition.

Suddenly, I feel like maybe I should breathe a bit more?

Or less? One of those.

“Yoshiteru? Are you all right?” Saika says, showing maidenly concern as I take a staggering step toward the wall in search of support.

“I… Don’t think so?”

“Do you want to go to the nurse’s office?”

“No! The last thing I need is the kind of shenanigans that are sure to lurk in there!”

He looks at me in confusion, his head tilted to the side.

I always forget how lacking he is in culture. Mayhaps he would enjoy the works of Clamp?

“It…” I take a deep, slow breath, and some of the blurriness leaves my sight. “It’s not as grave as that. The Lady Minami kissed me—”

A weird noise interrupts my speech. It’s like a bird of prey had crossed with the sweetest of songbirds—which reminds me of the setting with bird-men—

‘The internet has taught us that there’s a market for that, yes, but perhaps you should focus on the core concept before the marketability of bookworm owl girls with wide glasses and draping robes, feathers on her ears like those of a horned owl, holding a chained tome to her chest as she looks at the main character—damn it. I want that.’

With aqua hair, right?

‘Of course.’

Right. Also, any idea what this noise is?

‘Uh, I mean… Look down?’

I do.

And I’m confronted by Saika holding his fists beneath his chin, looking up at me with wide eyes and a bright smile (or bright eyes and a wide smile—both work) as he keeps musically squealing.

…

‘Start recording, you dumb fuck—’

“Yoshiteru! You musttell me everything!”

‘Never mind. Do what he says, you dumb fuck.’

Inner Hachiman, I sometimes worry about your divided loyalties.

‘And I worry about being a voice in your head. Now, start your pointless recap.’

Ah, fine.

The things I do for friendship.