A Post-Modern Literature Club (cont.)

If you think about your favourite romance works in the anisphere, they all follow certain tropes or conventions.

When said tropes are emulated badly, they become clichés—but do them well and it’s that sense of familiarity that propels a work to greater heights. 

Crafting a story inevitably requires re-using ‘generic templates’, no matter how good that story might eventually turn out to be. Like a mysterious girl and a childhood friend in a high school love triangle… for argument’s sake.

But to turn that mere ‘flavour of the month’ into a masterpiece, subversion of tropes or unique traits are key. Writers are aware of this, and thus, they aim to create interesting characters or stylistic choices that are unique—like rotten fish-eyed protagonists who talk to themselves in italics.

W-wait… you can’t possibly be talking about that guy, right? That’s crazy! References to other works are the intellectual property of Hikigaya Corp!

Sorry, Hikitani-kun. You were so great that you’ve inspired a new era of writers—and thus a trope was born.

Nowadays, it seems every fledgling light novelist wants their own introspective, anti-social main character paired up with a raven-haired beauty queen who reads paperbacks… hmm.

Am I projecting?

Regardless.

There are certain ‘rules’ that even the best in the industry do not break, unless they’re trying to get a specific point across. Like how if you have the two main love interests in the same club—with an activity that centers around the main theme of the work—the viewpoint character should join it too, obviously. For the plot to even function.

The Service Club. 

The SOS Brigade.

The Classic Literature Club.

And maybe this was why fate compelled Kiku to use my bath.

***

“Hello, this is Tsujimoto!”

Her voice sounded unreservedly sweet, and it made me feel terrible for the request I was about to make. But since I was desperate, I immediately canned those feelings and started begging through my landline. No remorse.

“Mari. Please help me. God, please, I don’t care if you’re free or not—I need your help!”

“Huh? Oh, Kocchan. You dramatic little thing, you! What’s up? Why didn’t you call me from your phone?”

“About that...”

For a brief moment, I considered telling her that I’d lost it. But it was a pointless lie, since no matter what, I intended for her to come over to my room.

“...Yukimura-senpai took it into the bath with her.”

Then I heard something like a gust of wind.

“You’re in her room?”

“Nope! She’s in mine. By the way, remember that time when we—”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m sorry I spoke. I’m sorry for existing.”

“Are the two of you alone?”

“...Yes.”

“And she took your phone by accident?”

“No, she asked for it. Because hers died, and she’d be bored in the bath otherwise.”

“The two of you are rather close, huh?”

That comment hit especially hard—probably because it wasn’t true at all. It would be like describing a master-slave dynamic as 'two close friends'.

“Guh.”

Mari sighed. “Well, I don’t really understand, but what do you need me to do?”

I glanced at my wristwatch. If the minutes number was odd, I was going to sugarcoat my request. And if not...

“...Come over to my place right now.”

It sounded like a glass shattered on her end of the line.

“Huh?”

“Oh, I said that—”

“Mizuhara, I heard you fine.”

“W-where’d the ‘-san’ go?!”

“I just think… Wow, how do I put this nicely? I think you might be trying too hard with the ‘self-unaware protagonist’ act. Harems are a thing of fiction, and even if they weren’t, maybe this isn’t the best way to go about getting one… just maybe?”

“Aren’t you the one pretending to be a bloody lesbian just so you can get closer to her?! Shouldn’t you be happy I’ve got an excuse for you?”

I didn't feel an idiot saying all of this. Because I was right.

“I don’t know where you got that ‘bloody lesbian’ idea from, and it makes me picture something very grotesque—but Kocchan, with all due respect, and I don’t want you to be hurt by what I’m about to say, and no offense, and don’t take this too personally… but you have issues.”

I’d been assailed by Yukimura countless times—physically, emotionally, mentally—but something about the way Mari had to preface her statement four times made me want to curl up and die.

Probably because in the past, she would’ve let it fly without warning.

“...And one of them is the girl in my bath. So please help me!”

There was a brief silence on her end.

On mine, I could hear Yukimura laughing at something through the door to my bathroom. So it really wasn't all that suffocating.

“...Fine, I’ll help you. But what do you want me to do—chase her out?”

“Oh no, nothing like that.”

“Then?”

“Like, um, do you have spare clothes?”

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“Can you… lend some clothes to Yukimura-senpai? Underwear too… I think.”

“Hold on a moment, Kocchan.”

I heard her phone being put down, and then a very muffled sound from my own. Like a noise from an extremely distant place—possibly the female dormitory.

It was, without a doubt, a girl screaming.

Since I could hear it clearly from my other ear.

“Hi Kocchan, I’m back. Sorry! I just had to get some fresh air.”

“.…..”

“Just to clarify—you’re trying to tell me that Kiku-chan… wants to wear my clothes?”

Maybe I’d explained the situation badly, so I just spelled everything out.

“Picture this. I’m standing outside my bathroom with a cordless phone.”

“Uh huh.”

“Yukimura-senpai is in there, and she doesn’t want to wear my clothes.”

“But can’t she just put on her uniform again?”

“You see… well, I’m looking at a cardigan, a blouse, stockings…”

“......”

“...a skirt, black lace panties, black cat-patterned—”

“Why are you describing her underwear and nothing else?!”

“Oh, was I? It wasn't intentional.”

Except that it was—I needed to get my point across.

“So you’re saying she’s stripped outside the bathroom, and therefore she’s stuck? I can believe her not wanting to wear your clothes, but why can’t you just give her the uniform through the door? I’m starting to think you’re lying.”

“I’m serious, though! She’d probably rather walk around naked than wear them again!”

Something about 'catching my virginity'.

I believe that was the reason. 

“There’s absolutely no way Kiku-chan… No, there’s zero chance Yukimura-senpai would do something like that. Stripping outside a bathroom.”

“But that’s—”

“She’s a girl! At a place with two boys! High-schoolers!”

Oh.

And that’s when I realised the source of her confusion.

The reason she still thought of the Ice Queen as a person who followed conventional logic.

Mari was by no means imperceptive—and she’d interacted with Yukimura at least thrice. Two club sessions, the ‘handkerchief incident’, and possibly more that I’m not aware of. Since she was putting on that lesbian act just to learn how to write from her.

So.

The Ice Queen probably acted within the boundaries of ‘normal’ around her.

Probably the same reason she didn’t want Mari to come over to our table ‘that day’.

And if Yukimura was doing it on purpose, then I wasn’t about to ruin it all in a single moment of ignorance.

I’m not a self-unaware protagonist.

“...Ah fine, you got me. Yukimura-senpai’s not really in my room.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, to be honest, I just wanted to prank you. Was it funny?”

“...Kocchan, that’s not the type of joke you should play on anyone.”

Because I’m not a self-unaware protagonist, I understood what I was doing.

I was aware that this nice girl liked me.

And sure, her feelings would be hurt for a while, but it’s better—

Definitely better than Yukimura's effort being wasted.

“By the way, it’s been a long time since we’ve talked over the phone, huh?”

“A ‘long time’ is subjective.”

Considering we used to talk on a daily basis, it really was.

“And I kind of miss it. What I’m trying to say is that… you know, since I did something so insensitive, how about I treat you to lunch or something?”

“...Kocchan.”

“Yeah?”

“It sounds like you’re making an excuse.”

“That’s because this call was just a long-winded way of asking you to meet, you know?”

“...I see.”

“So, tomorrow. At the school café.”

“......”

“I’ll text you the details. And again, I’m sorry.”

“...I’m hanging up.”

Then the line cut with a beep.

No goodbye—not that I deserved one.

I didn’t want to hurt Mari. But since I’d cornered myself into making that the only option, then she deserved some form of recompense. I wasn't the type of guy to hurt a nice girl on purpose then walk away like I did nothing wrong.

More importantly—I didn’t want Yukimura to lose someone she thought of as a friend.

I didn't want to be the guy with ego issues creating trouble for everyone else.

At that moment, I heard my bathroom door swinging open—

Which hadn’t been locked the whole time.