My SI Stash #2 - Unexpectedly, I have become Hikigaya Hachiman by minhmap859 (Oregairu)

-Inconsistent and a very lazy author aside, this has a really good Self Insert that makes you ask questions! Very intriguing, highly recommended!

Sypnosis: A story born from the combination of a certain antisocial and disillusioned high schooler and a pathetically apathetic college student, both hell bent on finishing their own shitty chapter of youth, stubbornly set in their own way like a bull on a warpath. Or something. I mean, this is a shitty summary. Perfect fit for a shitty self-insert fic, don't you agree?

Rated: T

Words: 30K

Posted on: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12761010/1/Unexpectedly-I-have-become-Hikigaya-Hachiman (minhmap859)

Chapter 1: Unexpectedly, I have become Hikigaya Hachiman. How terribly unoriginal, cliché and...wait, what was the the right word again?

Existential crisis. The bane of middle-aged men stuck in a dead-end career. That strange, unknown feeling that pervades your mind like a snake coiling around your heart, squeezing for all its worth your raison d'être, reminding you so fondly of your inevitable mortality and how everything you did will be all for naught in the end.

But, or me, its that fleeting moment of awareness. Of what? Everything, I think. The absurdity of life, of me, of that feeling that I don't belong here, that this is not right and things will never be alright…

"…Tell me, Hikigaya. Do you recall what I said about the topic for this essay was?"

…and that is okay. I'm okay. Even though I'm now a character in a light novel series, even though everything I thought I had understood about the nature of reality is breaking down right in front of my eyes, even though nothing makes any fucking sense anymore, i'm still me. Just in the body of a certain Hikigaya Hachiman, with all his knowledge and memories.

Or is it?

What defines "me"? Body? Mind? The patterns of my atoms? Nah, they are all of Hachiman.

Thoughts? if I'm thinking with his brain then how can his thoughts be mine to begin with? Memories? All the fleeting agony?

"…Hikigaya?"

…But then, they have all become one. As crazy it sounds, I am now him and he is now me, and I'm not sure which end is which.

Still, considering that I'm currently residing in his body, I guess I should refer to myself as Hachiman now.

A harder, better, faster, stronger Hachiman.

…Batman?

"…HACHIMAN!"

…Hachiman it is, then.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Pay attention to me, damn it! Stop glazing all over the place with your rotting dead fish eyes!"

"Sorry, was thinking about..stuff."

"'Stuff', huh? Does this 'stuff' of yours include anything to do with this essay, Hikigaya?" Hiratsukasensei, if I recalled correctly, glared at me. "I'm giving you one last chance to explain yourself, Hikigaya: what is with this pointlessly condescending paper and how could you have thought ending it with a death threat was, in any form or way, a good idea?!"

"The essay topic was "Looking back on high school life" right? I did share my thoughts about high school life and I did finish the topic with a satisfying conclusion. I wrote what you ask, so therefore I am not at fault here."

"No you ARE at fault here you idiot! This paper looks more like a death threat than an essay! I'd expect you to reflect on your personal experience, not…whatever you call this!" Hiratsuka-sensei cried out with more then a little force behind it. If I was the Hachiman before, I would probably be intimidated into stuttering like a bloody idiot.

But I'm not.

"Well, you didn't say so."

"…What?"

"I mean, if you said so in preference to the topic, I would have followed it in a heartbeat." I paused. "Yet you didn't. I ain't a psychic, madam. I can neither read your mind nor your memory card." I took a breath and look at her agape face "…Nor reverse your control input, but that is beside the point."

"…Don't get smart with me, kid."

"Well, it is true that I am just physically a kid…compared to you, that is."

But then, all the smart talk I have about mentality and whatnot died down in my throat the second after I realized my mistake: Hiratsuka, in all her glory as the Christmas-cake to topple all of Christmas-cakes, is very irrationally sensitive about comments made on behalf of her age.

"…I'm very sorry." I said to the certainly not fuming mad face of a certainly violent but and certainly not old teacher whose fist is just millimeters to my face. "Let's just forget this, okay? I will rewrite the essay, so just sit down, please? Violence is not the only answer, y-you know?"

Still fuming, Hiratsuka fumbles around with her front pocket and pulled out a cigarette, tapping its filter hard against her desk like how old geezers would do and then lit it up with her cheap 100-yen lighter. 3 long drags after, the now less angry but probably still as violent teacher glanced at me with a calculating look on her face.

"Say, Hikigaya…you're not in any club, right?"

"Yup."

"…Do you have any friends?"

"Acquaintances? Maybe. Friends? Nope."

"Okay, so..girlfriend?"

"Nope."

"Good! Let's do it this way! Firstly, rewrite your essay."

"Okay."

"Secondly, you will have to join the Service club as punishment for hurting my feelings!"

"Okay." Sheeeeez...Knew this would happen one way or another.

"W-wait no, you were supposed to say 'objection!'! Now my supposed cool speech is ruined!"

"Okay." Yup.

"Stop saying "okay", damn it!"

"Okay." This is fun.

"….Are you messing with me, Hikigaya?"

"No, I am not."

"…whatever. Just, follow me!"

"Okay."

"STOP IT, DAMN IT!"

...After a long, silent walk along with Hiratsuka through various hallways, I have finally come to face to face with it.

A door with a nondescript doorplate.

In due time it will be the "Service club", where troubled youths could come to ask for help.

And with a stroke of (bad) luck, I'll become a part of this cliché.

How do I know of this?

It's easy, really: I've read about this. This is a straight out of a light novel. Say, I'm dealing with both the unthinkable fact that I've become a fictional character and this paralyzing feeling of despair stemming from the fear that my life was just bunch of fabricated lies.

…Just another Tuesday, I suppose. Tends to get people steamy, and in some case, steaming mad.

"Hikigaya, quit daydreaming and get your sorry ass inside!"

"Okay."

"AND STOP USING THAT WORD!"

"Please do mind your manners, Hiratsuka-sensei." A female voice graciously said. "It is quite understandable for him to be stunned by my beauty." Nope, too distracted to care, But, Now that I look at her carefully…

Yukinoshita Yukino, grade 11, class J. Beautiful. Gracious. Abrasive. Likes cats, cute things and..that weird Pan-san figure or something. Weirdly competitive about things, which probably came from being born into a rich, competitive family and having Yukinoshita Haruno for a sister. A rational mind governed by an irrational heart.

Conclusion? A woman with a very tough shell, but a weak core who nevertheless strives to do the right thing. Well, what she considers 'right' anyway.

Too bad she's flat.

"...-ut Sensei, considering where this 'Hikigaya Hachiman" is currently looking at, I fear he might have impure, scandalous thoughts about my esteemed self." Ah, I guess they've done the introductions for me now.

"No worries Yukino, Hikigaya is quite adept at self-preservation. He wouldn't dare risk doing anything that results in a criminal charge, so you can rest your heart at ease." Indeed, too much hassle. "Besides, as you can see, he is a pitiable, easily distracted and lonely shell of man, one whose heart and eyes has been heavily corrupted. He is merely a petty thug who has a case of grandeur delusions."

"Petty thug?...I see…." Somethings never change I suppose, butterfly effect be damned.

"I know this will be hard on you, Yukino, but can I leave him to you? I am requesting you to straighten up his act and beat the reclusive disposition out of him…psychologically, okay? Physical violence isn't permitted."

"…If it's a request from sensei, I can't very well refuse…I accept." Oi, I can smell the distaste from here.

Sensei said with a smile. "So it is all settled, then!" She clapped her hand loudly. "I will leave the rest to you!" …And with that, she quickly left the room, leaving me standing here all alone.

…Wait, not alone. Yukinoshita is still staring me as if I am some kind of a walking freak show.

Which is probably true, considering the fact that if anyone ever knew what the hell happened to me, being called a freak would probably be the last thing I would worry about. It was utterly insane how calm and normal my exterior is through this whole damned thing, how ready I was to accept my innate reasoning, how fervent I tried to cling on any sense of normalcy I could see and feel and hear and…you know, sense.

Inside though, it was a mess. A stupidly hormonal mess born from the combination of a certain antisocial and disillusioned high schooler and a pathetically apathetic college student, both hell bent on finishing their own shitty chapter of youth, stubbornly set in their own way like a bull on a warpath.

…Oh my, this combination is beyond fucked up. Double the salt, Double the fun! Quadruple the chance to die from a heart attack!

"…Is something wrong? The fact you keep glaring at me even though I glared back already unnerves me enough, please put that disgusting serial-killer smile of yours aside before I start fearing for my chastity and well-being for real this time" Yukinoshita said, her eyes narrowed as she glances at me like a piece of trash.

Oh, I spaced out again. If I have a drink for every time I space out, I will probably die from alcohol poisoning pretty soon. Well, if I didn't die from acting like a jackass because I was drunk, that is. Thankfully neither me or Hikigaya like alcohol. Depression and alcohol is like a match made in heaven, or more likely, a normie's hopes and dreams, so naturally its fucked up.

Just like me.

"…Ehem. Could you..please… take a seat?" See, I spaced out. Again, much to my dismay.

"...Pardon me. I was thinking about..stuff." I replied a little unconvincingly. I can see her glaring at me intensely as I clumsy waddled around trying to make myself at home.

Way to make yourself suspicious, Hachiman.

As I sat down to the opposite of Yukinoshita, she ceases to glare at me and I cannot help but let out a sigh. This was a long day for me, and I am tired. Mentally. Physically. MAX coffee, I want MAX coffee! I need MAX coffee! Or a steaming hot cup of drip-filtered coffee with its dark, strong taste diluted by a copious amount of sweetened condensed milk!

"Hikigaya." But before I could go any further, Yukinoshita suddenly speaks up and broke me from my daydreaming , her voice rings clear and sonorous like bell, its tune resonating as it beckon me to cross the gap and transcend from one nightmare…to another.

...No point musing on what is inevitable, I guess.

"…Yes?" I reluctantly replied.

"Do you know what kind of club is this?" What is with that condescending smirk? I know you know that people expect nothing less from an princess-archetype like you, but please, try to keeps it in check or someday people will smack you right in the cheek! What a fucking terrible pun! I expected nothing less from myself! Good job, me, you are still full of shit! Yay for self-awareness!

…Ah crap, I was distracted again.

"Yes, I do." I-it isn't like I l-like you or anything, Distract-kun, you i-idiot! Leave me alone!

"Really?" …Oi, I can smell the disbelief over here. "Had Hiratsuka-sensei told you, then?"

"No, but I can take a hint, y'know. Helping others, accepting their stupid, teenage-related requests, making it an aesop along the 'teach a man how to fish and he won't starve' stuff, yadda nadda." I take another sigh, finally realizing how much a chore it is and will be for both the me right now and the me in the foreseeable future andddd ended up sighing again, this time with a much needed double facepalm. "...There, that is all there is to this "Service" club. Happy now?" I look at her expectantly….

"Hikigaya-kun, how many years has it been since the last time you talked to a girl?"…And proudly earned my first Yukinoshita-grade death glare. Y-yay?

"…Does sister count?"

"No."

…And with that, I heaved another sigh.