All Right! Fine! I Will Take You! – Chapter 17 (Patreon)

There’s an old Zen tale about a student meditating atop a mountain, probably with the top of his robes undone to show his well-sculpted physique that is a requirement for monks of all religions (that is, if manga has taught me anything—that guy from Berserk was ripped… and now I made myself sad).

Right. A minute of silence.

…

Moving on.

As I was saying, the gym-obsessed ascetic is meditating upon the deepest mysteries of the cosmos, such as whether egg yolks or chicken breasts will contribute more to his gains, when his old master, who probably has an unhealthy obsession with women’s undergarments, approaches him and asks him a question. The tale doesn’t specify which one, but let’s assume this time it isn’t about the disappointing sale of tickets for the Falling Trees’ concert after their last going-away tour.

“Disciple Dude-bro,” he begins with a solemn tone, “what is the best advice you could give to someone just starting out on their journey toward muscle illumination?”

And Dude-bro, taken out of his deep contemplation on dietary supplements, ponders his master’s question for quite a while. He goes over his teachings, everything he has learned, but also tries to go beyond, to infer something further than he’s been taught, because, despite the panties-related shenanigans, he respects his old master that much.

Disciple Dude-bro may not be that smart.

“Push-ups, sit-ups, and plenty of juice,” he finally answers.

And his master smiles proudly at him, in a way that’s slightly less disturbing than when he walks by the nearest high school.

“Well done, Disciple Dude-bro. I am proud of your progress.”

Then he leaves, and Dude-bro is proud of his achievement before going back to his deep meditations on the best way to turn eating into a disgusting chore.

The tale doesn’t end here, of course, because that would just be far too straightforward for anything with “Zen” in the description. No, it needs to go ahead and screw with your mind like a Haruno-related incident.

So, the next day, Dude-bro is pondering whether more reps with lower weight would really be that detrimental to hypertrophy when his master walks by once again.

“Disciple Dude-bro,” he says once again, “what is the best advice you could give to someone just starting out on their journey toward muscle illumination?”

“Push-ups, sit-ups, and plenty of juice,” he immediately answers, wondering whether senility and its symptoms can really be staved off with rigorous exercise.

“Wrong!” his master yells, furthering his doubts about whether it’s finally time to call that nursing home.

“But, master, that was the answer I gave you yesterday, and you said—”

“That was yesterday’sright answer,” the master interrupts, with a smug smile that clearly tells Dude-bro he’s been planning that for weeks.

What we laymen who are not initiated into the mysteries of jock-monkhood usually take away from this tale is that Dude-bro cannot get stuck on one single answer, that his comprehension needs to progress apace with his experiences, that the world is an ever-shifting, chaotic mess, and no single solution fits any and all problems.

Except violence and friendship-inducing punches, I guess, but even those can apparently get turned around by a sufficiently traumatized Yukinoshita scion.

That is, all of them. Apparently.

“Hikky?” the girl on whose delicate shoulders I’ve dumped at least half my load of Yukinoshita-related issues intrudes upon my thoughts from across the desk at our club.

Luckily, it is readily visible to anyone with eyes to see that her shoulders have been getting anime-style training for years.

“Sorry, Yuigahama, I—”

“Yui,” she says, a childish, mulish pout on lips that—down.

“Ah, I mean—”

“I suggest you comply, Hikigaya. She’s relentless when she sets her mind on something,” Yukinoshita adds from her gardener’s side.

Yes, the room smells like lilies; why do you ask?

“Oh, I bet you know how relentless—”

“Hikky!”

“Hikigaya!”

And now I have two blushing, stuttering, angry women glaring at me.

It’s nice to be back on familiar ground.

“What? I just meant that you are already calling her Yui. What did you think I meant, Yukinoshita? Uh? Is there something improper going—”

And she slaps me.

…

What.

“There,” she says with a smile that couldn’t be more satisfied if she was surrounded by disturbing panda plushies in the middle of a cat café, “now we are even.”

And I can only remain on my seat, looking at the standing, imperious Yukinoshita as her dark hair almost floats around her before settling while her arm remains stretched toward me.

So I grab it and pull her across the desk.

“Wha—” she begins to panic.

Then I hug her and laugh.

She fidgets, trying to get out of the uncomfortable position I’m keeping her in, stretched across the desk as I hold her, but then Yui rushes to my side and hugs us both, and she also starts laughing.

Yukinoshita never joins in, but she relaxes between the two of us, a soft, enchanting smile on her lips.

It’s been almost a year in the making, and I nearly managed to screw it up beyond repair more than once, but here and now, even with everything that’s going on, I’m happy to just let go and enjoy a hug with my two friends who are very much an item and definitely and forever beyond my grasp.

And this is the kind of pause I needed to get my head back in working order.

Because what’s life if one can’t stop to smell the lilies?

***

“So…” Yukinoshita is once again seated in front of me, still flustered yet trying to fake her usual poise, “Hikyga—”

“Hachiman,” Yui interrupts.

Well, at least she didn’t say ‘Hachi.’

Yukinoshita looks to her left before her shoulders slump in defeat.

“Ha—Hachiman…” she says, with a tiny voice that wouldn’t be out of place on Saika’s lips.

…

Thank the Heavens she didn’t pull that off a week ago.

“Yes?” I ask with a not-at-all dry throat. Because I can already feel Shizu’s yandere senses tingling, and I can’t ever be sure that Iroha isn’t watching.

“You… wanted to talk? With us?” she finally seems to regain her bearings. Slightly.

“’Want’ may not be the right word…”

“Don’t be mean, Hikky.”

“Yuigaha—”

“Yui,” she interrupts with a beaming smile. That may have a bit of an edge.

“Yui,” I promptly reply. Because let it not be said that I’m not a faster learner than Yukinoshi—Yukino.

This will take some getting used to.

Yes, I’m aware of the irony.

“Oh, oh! I should stop calling you ‘Hikky,’ though. How about Hachi?”

And I choke. Again.

If this turns into an erotic auto-asphyxiation thing, I’m going to be very pissed.

“Hachi? What’s wrong?” Yuiga—Yui asks as she reaches across the desk to awkwardly pat my back.

“I… That’s… Could you call me any other way?” I implore.

“Uh? Why? Do you have a problem with ‘Hachi?’” Please, Yui, those eyes of yours are too pure! Don’t ask me that with those eyes!

“Yes, do you have a problem with ‘Hachi?’” Please, Yukino, those eyes of yours are too sharp! Don’t ask me that with those eyes!

“I… Not exactly a problem, but…”

“Does this have to do with my sister?” Yukino! Stop trying to make me develop an erotic auto-asphyxiation fetish! I have enough with my exhibitionistic fetish!

Wait, do I—

“If you don’t answer in the very next few seconds, I am going to assume the worst possible answer, Hachiman.” Right. I may be an exhibitionist, but I definitely am not an M. Time to get that sense of self-preservation working.

‘… You are kidding, right?’

Brain-chan, this is not the time to dawdle; we need to get Self-Preservation-kun in working order.

‘Oh, gods… Fine, you gather the seven dragon balls, and we’ll see what we can do.’

Surely, matters are not as grave as you’re implying?

‘Let’s just say he pulled a Krillin. Or that you definitely haven’t looked in the mirror lately. One of those.’

Right, you may have a point.

“Hachi—” Yukino starts, the temperature of the room dropping several degrees.

“That’s how my girlfriends call me!” I burst out.

Oh, Self-Preservation-kun. That’s where you were buried.

Nice of you to save a spot for me.

“Your what?” Yukino accuses.

“Your what?” Yui chokes out.

Well, at least it’s not me that’s being choked…

‘Yet.’

Shut up, Brain-chan. No wonder I never pay you any mind.

“I… Uh… Where to start…”

“At the plural.”Hey, Yukino, I hear sexual release does wonders for homicidal impulses. How about you let Yui—

“Yes. The pluralsounds good.” Oi, Yui, shouldn’t you be more cuddly and puppy-like? Also, totally unrelated question, did you get your shots? The one for rabies, specifically?

“Uh, you see, I am given to understand that in certain countries—”

“We are in Japan. Not certain countries.”

“One could argue that Japan is a certain country—”

“One could discover how weak a defense sophistry is. Physically.”

“Yukino, no need to threaten him. I’m sure Hachi will be straightforward and sincere with the both of us after what he did yesterday, won’t you, Hachi?”

“Yui, did I ever tell you you have a scary smile?”

“Don’t be silly! I’m a cheerful, simple gal who’s never in a bad mood. I’m a nice girl! And you love nice girls, don’t you, Hachi?”

…

‘Dear Komachi, if you are reading this, I’m no longer among the living. If it’s not too much to ask, I would prefer that you smash my hard drive to pieces before burning it and scattering its ashes over Hayama’s clique. Also, if you are so struck with grief that you decide to take up the cloth and devote your life to God in a remote monastery, that would be nice, but make sure not to go to any place where nuns wear short skirts. That way lies madness. And fat priests.’

“Is there anything I can say that will get me out of this room alive?”

“The truth,” Yukino states with finality in her tone. That is, like usual. “Well, maybe. It depends on said truth,” she reluctantly amends.

“Right…” Seeing no other way out of this, I take a deep breath and… “I’m going out with Shizuka.”

There are two sets of confused eyes blinking at me in eerie synchronization. Somehow, I would rather not imagine how this level of harmony has been achieved.

Not now, at least.

Not with an audience.

“Shizuka? How did you meet her?” Yui hesitantly asks.

…

“She actually introduced herself.”

“Oh. How brash of her,” Yukino disapproves. “And where did this meeting take place?”

This can’t be happening…

“Here, at school.”

“Ah. A younger year? Iroha’s friend?” Yui asks, still trying to make sense of things.

“You… could say that.” Shizu, stop being so happy. It’s unbecoming.

“Have I… seen her?” Yukino frowns.

“Yes. Quite often. With Iroha, even. Yesterday, for instance.” I could be more obvious. I don’t know how, but I’m sure I could be.

And now the two of them blink once again as shock gives way to—

“What the Hell—”

“Hikigaya, what are you even—”

That.

“It’s the truth! You can ask them—her! Well, you can, but not in public, for obvious reasons, so, maybe try to be a bit discreet, because this is a bit of a delicate situation and—”

“You can’t go out with your teacher—!”

“—And I would appreciate it very much if you didn’t scream that at the top of your lungs, Yukino!”

And there’s a shocked gasp.

“How… how long?” Yuigahama asks.

And I sit down after seeing Yukino’s screamed admonishment had made me stand up. What’s with this girl and making me move without realizing it? Is this the fabled ‘my body moved by itself?’ Is a weird old man going to ask me to eat his hair? Do I need more fiber in my diet?

“Not… not that long. Since last week.”

There’s an awkward pause, which is weird because the growing sense of familiarity makes it a bit hard to call her awkward. How about we get on a first name basis already, Pause-chan?

“And… the plural?” Yukinoshita asks, apparently unwillingly.

And I shuffle a bit on my seat.

“… Iroha.”

“How did that even—” Yui starts to ask.

“I would rather not tell. Komachi’s traumatized enough already.”

“Wait, you told your sister?” Yukino asks, with a weird emphasis on the line.

“She wanted to know. I resisted as long as I could.”

“What does that even mean—”

“Yui,” Yukino looks at her after laying a finger on the flustered girl’s lips. Oi, the lily garden is one thing, but at least don’t flaunt it in front of me, “I really don’t think we want to know.”

“You don’t,” I, fighting against my very being, agree with her.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Ah, there’s that frostiness again. I almost missed it.

“I mean, I wishthat was the only sister involved—”

And suddenly I’m stretched on top of the desk, Yukino having grabbed my tie and looking at me with ice so cold it actually burns.

“Explain,”she demands.

And I do.

Wait for me, Self-Preservation-kun. I shan’t be long.

***

Yukino is rubbing her temples, and Yui is rubbing Yukino’s shoulders while shooting me a glare from time to time.

“Only you could manage to get my sister involved in something like this…” the defrosting yuki-onna mutters.

“It… wasn’t on purpose,” I say while sheepishly rubbing the back of my neck like anime has taught me to do in such circumstances.

Oh, wait, no, these aren’t precedented circumstances.

Great, I can finally contribute to Zaimokuza’s trainwreck of a career by giving him an original idea for a light novel series. Let’s go with ‘I tried to eat my Christmas Cake, but ended up choking on my impromptu harem.’

Fuck, I would read that.

Zaimokuza must never know.

“Hikky… I don’t think that’s any better…” Yui mutters, at least having given up on her ‘Hachi’ offensive now that she knows what it actually entails.

Clever girl.

I should start carrying treats.

“Right… I agree with you on that. Still, Yukino, about your sister—”

“You break it, you fix it.”

“… I think it came pre-broken. The warranty—”

“I am afraid any and all purchases are final. If you are unhappy with our service, I could always refer you to our manager. My mother.”

“… Yukino, why do you hate me so?”

“Hate? I am entrusting the fate of my dear sister to you; what more proof of my affection do you need?”

I look at Yukino’s unyielding gaze for a moment before turning my eyes up to the soothing –no, Yui also seems set on melting my internal organs with her mind.

Yui, I’m afraid your talents lie elsewhere. You are much better at hardening than softening. Ask half our class.

… A bit more than half, going by your gardening talents.

Well, time to take a deep breath and… Let it flow.

“Do you really mean that?” I ask Yukino, my head tilted down, my eyes intense on hers, my voice deep.

This isn’t even my final form.

“Uh?” Not even final, but I still manage to startle Yukino without physical violence.

I think I may have leveled up at some point.

“Do you mean it?” I repeat, syllables slow and precise, yet with an underlying growl. “Do you trust me with Haruno? To handle her as I see fit?”

And she freezes, caught in my eyes, and I hear Yui swallow.

“I…” Yukino flushes, put on the spot, “I… Maybe?”

“No. No, that won’t do. Because once I decide, I will go ahead and do it; that’s the way I work, the way I am. You, of all people, know that. So, once again, Yukino Yukinoshita, do you trust me to handle Haruno Yukinoshita and whatever’s wrong with her and my own girlfriend?”

Yukino swallows, still unable to look away from me.

“I… do,” she finally whispers.

I smile, and I reach across the desk before caressing her cheek.

“There, was that so hard?”

And she flushes, embarrassed at—

Oh.

Yui is staring daggers at me and cutely growling, Yukino is breathing heavily, and—

Right.

Deep-Voiced Bastard, it seems you shall remain a forbidden technique. You are too strong to carelessly unleash.

“I swear this is Platonic!” I almost yell in a panic.

Incidentally, Platonic does not mean homosexual, Zaimokuza.

And Yui grabs my sleeve in her iron grasp as I’m about to take my hand away from the rapidly overheating yuki-onna.

Then she leans down and puts it on top of her head, making me move it till I’m petting her hair.

And she smiles at me, a pleased flush and easy smile under the shadow of my hand.

“I know. We're friends, aren’t we, Hikky?” she states rather than ask, her warm eyes beside Yukino’s hesitating ones, their cheeks mushed together without a trace of the taller girl pulling away as both of them look at me me with not even a hint of rejection.

And I swear I don’t choke back a relieved, happy sob.