It Is… Normal. 

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[-Continuation-]

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[-Hachiman's POV-]

The girl Sagami passed by our table, and to my surprise, she offered Hayama a small, almost shy wave.

Hayama, startled at first, waved back, flashing his signature smile as if nothing was out of place.

I sighed internally - this was going to turn into one of those situations, wasn't it?

I was more than sure she heard Zaimokuza.

However, I did not bother myself with that and turned towards my self-proclaimed comrade-in-arms.

"Zaimokuza." I interjected, hoping to steer the conversation back to sanity. "Let's dial it back a notch, shall we? No one is being betrothed here-"

"-It's just... dating."

The word hung in the air between us, heavier than I had anticipated and I immediately regretted it.

Not because it wasn't true, but because Zaimokuza's eyes lit up in shock as if he had just now discovered another deeper and stronger level of friendship betrayal.

"Dating?!" He echoed, as if it were a foreign word. "So, it's true then…"

I sighed again, this time louder.

Hayama, meanwhile, just gave me a supthiatic look for having to tolerate Zaimokuza babbling.

…

But as I caught his eye, there was a subtle shift in his expression, just enough for a fleeting second to catch it.

Jealousy?

No.

It is not the usual - I can't believe he is actually dating someone, jealousy.

It was the look of someone who had long ago convinced themselves that certain doors were forever closed, only to see someone else pass through effortlessly.

I recognized that look all too well. It was so eerily familiar.

How many times had I worn it myself, watching the popular kids breeze through life's social obstacles, while I envied the chances of me ever doing that.

However, seeing it on Hayama's face was jarring.

He was supposed to be the golden boy, the one who had it all figured out.

But there it was, plain as day on his face.

His eyes held the same silent defeat, the kind that whispered - It's only possible because it's him.

There was a sadness in his gaze that he probably didn't even realize himself - reminded of something he gave up halfway, believing it was beyond reach.

And now, for him, to see it happen right before him, he didn't feel inspired to try again.

Instead, he seemed to lump me in with the 'lucky ones' those he wrongly assumed life favored just because.

But just how could 'this' person in his life be?

It wasn't Yukino Yukinoshita.

That ship had long since sailed.

But then…

Miura's face flashed in my mind - a possibility I almost dismissed outright.

It felt so obvious, I almost laughed at the cliché of it all.

The popular guy and the queen bee - it was like something out of a teen drama.

But the more I thought about it, the less sense it made.

Hayama was always surrounded by people, constantly adored by the girls in our school, Miura included.

Yet, Hayama and Miura's interactions always seemed a strange distance between, as if they were playing a role, keeping up appearances.

But if not her, then who?

I shook my head. There was no point in speculating.

….

Meanwhile, Zaimokuza was still reeling from the bombshell I had dropped earlier, clutching his chest like a Shakespearean actor who had just been stabbed.

"Oh, Hachiman, you sly fox! To think you have ventured into the treacherous battlefield of romance without your faithful comrade!"

I stared at him, deadpan. "Zaimokuza, it is not a battlefield. It is… normal. People date. It happens."

He blinked at me like I had just said something in a foreign language.

"Normal? You think dating is normal?" He shook his head, his disappointment was evident. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. The darkness of normalcy has claimed yet another victim."

I was about to retort when Hayama leaned back in his chair, still wearing that practiced smile.

But behind it, I could see that faint shadow of melancholy, the kind you can't quite shake off.

"Seems like everyone's moving forward, doesn't it?" He said, his tone light but carrying something deeper beneath the surface.

I glanced at him.

This guy.

I don't even want to bother trying to decipher what was running through his head.

He is too complicated, and honestly, I didn't have the energy to figure him out.

…

We finished our treats, and the lingering taste of chocolate filled the air as we prepared to head out.

I glanced out the window, watching the world outside move along without a care.

"We should probably get going." I said, glancing at my watch.

It was getting late, and I wanted to arrive a bit early, just enough time to settle in.

Hayama stood, brushing off the crumbs that clung stubbornly to his pants.

While Zaimokuza lagged behind, still looking like a deflated balloon.

His slouched posture was almost comical, sighing dramatically that it was loud enough to catch a few stares as we made our way out of the bakery.

As we stepped onto the bustling street, Hayama's voice cut through the street noise, low and thoughtful.

"Should I take care of her?"

He asked, glancing over his shoulder toward the bakery's transparent doors.

I stopped mid-step, turning to look at him.

Take care of who? My brain instantly jumped to the worst possible interpretation.

Seriously, could he be any more vague?

But he must be referring to the redhead from earlier, the one who might have overheard our conversation about my dating life.

Still though, the way he phrased it…

"Could you phrase that differently?" I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. "You sound like you are about to carry out some mafia hit."

Hayama blinked, confused, but then a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Ah, right. Poor choice of words on my part."

"She's not an issue." I said, hoping I wasn't being overly optimistic.

Still, I would probably have to deal with some low-level gossip in the coming days.

No big deal - I could just wave off the whole situation like an annoying fly.

"So just... let her be."

Great. Now I sounded like I was plotting something nefarious.

The words had barely left my mouth when I caught myself, realizing the irony of my own phrasing.

Now that I remember, Yukino did say something similar to me, just today in the clubroom.

"..." - "..."

Hayama and I locked eyes for a moment, shaking our heads in unison at the absurdity of the situation.

Zaimokuza, still sulking, seemed oblivious to the strange direction of the conversation.

Feeling a twinge of sympathy - or perhaps just eager to move things along - I reached out and gave him a light pat on the back. 

"Come on, man. Let's get moving on."

He sniffled, looking at me with exaggerated sorrow. "I shall forgive you, my comrade, but only because my heart is too pure and noble to hold a grudge."

"Right, let's go with that." I muttered, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

As we stepped into the dim streets with bustling activities, I couldn't help but shake my head at the bizarre turn of events.

Here we were, an unlikely trio if there ever was one:

Hayama, always the cool and composed golden boy with depths as mysterious as the ocean.

Zaimokuza, the walking, talking embodiment of every light novel cliché, whose entire worldview could be shattered by something as trivial as dating.

And then there was me, now thrown into a situation where, somehow, I found myself labeled as - normal.

How the hell did I end up here?

….

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As we strolled along, we eventually reached a crossroads where we would part ways.

Hayama turned to me. "Catch you later."

"Yeah, sure." I replied.

Zaimokuza, who just gave up on his dramatic disposition, picked a mock salute.

"Be strong, comrade! Fight on!!"

With a final nod, they turned in one direction while I headed homeward.

The scenery shifted from lively shops and restaurants to quieter residential streets.

Upon arriving home, I kicked off my shoes and made my way inside.

I could hear the soft hum of the television in the living room, where my mother was likely engrossed in a drama.

"Welcome back!" She called out, her cheerful voice breaking through the fog of my thoughts.

"Thanks." I muttered, not feeling particularly lively.

I headed straight to my room, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it for a moment.

After a quick freshening up, splashing water on my face, and changing into something more presentable, I glanced at the clock.

Time was ticking away, and I had to get moving.

Ryota had called me to this so-called 'office building'.

I grabbed my phone, checking for any messages, but it was quiet.

With a resigned sigh, I made my way downstairs.

I quickly slipped on my shoes again and stepped outside and flagged down a taxi.

As I settled into the backseat, I instructed the driver to take me to the office building where Ryota was waiting.

The city lights began to flicker to life outside the window as we drove, illuminating the streets with a vibrant glow.

.

Before I could ponder too long, the taxi pulled up in front of the sleek office building, its glass facade reflecting the evening sky.

I paid the driver and stepped out.

With a soft sigh, I looked up at the building standing before me.

Or at least I tried to.

Because I had to take a step back to take in the full picture of the building, or else my nick would have snapped back.

"Oh… this is huge." I muttered, trying to loosen the tie around my neck.

Yeah, if I hadn't mentioned it before, I was decked out in formal attire.

The sound of my footsteps echoing as I approached the entrance and pushed the glass door open, stepping inside.

The soft glow of the lobby lights washed over me, but this time, there was an underlying tension in the air, and I could feel it tugging at my nerves as I scanned the room.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for a familiar face amidst the sea of suits and briefcases.

And then –

"Over here!"

Ryota called out.

Let's see how this is going to turn out and hope it will be exciting.

For ME, that is.

.

….

[To be continued…]

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