A Certain Loner's Protégé [Hachiman x Yumiko]

M is also for Metamorphosis

Yumiko laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling with a small frown on her face as her blonde hair was splayed out on her pillow. Despite it being the afternoon, she couldn't find it in herself to do anything she usually did on weekend's like these.

How much longer would she think about this, about him?

Hachiman seemed to live in her head rent-free lately, as if she didn't have more important things to think about (she didn't, but she'd pretend that she did.)

He wouldn't tell the loner this, but she was much more grateful to him than she expressed. Before he'd shown up in her life, she thought something was wrong with her, that she was a bad person for feeling the way that she did. Thankfully Hachiman didn't mind stepping in and telling her just how much she was overthinking the problem.

Despite his personality and demeanor, he was surprisingly reliable. Though she supposed that his personality was half of why she'd begun to have these feelings. His nonchalant expressions, monotone voice, and the way he seemingly didn't care about anything but for some reason still helped others struck a chord within her.

Not even a month ago, she would've probably agreed with the way most people perceived him; creepy, quiet, strange. That is, if he was perceived at all by those around him. Before, she could only remember a handful of interactions with the fish-eyed boy but now her memories with him were among the most fun in recent memory. She'd forgotten how fun it was to just enjoy someone's company, not caring what was done as long as it was with them. Much too often had she felt overwhelmed by their more-than-occasional group hangouts. There were too many people, too much talking, and conversations they'd had more than a dozen times before. It felt as if she was just fulfilling a role.

Which was why a conversation with him felt like a breath of fresh air, something Hayama hadn't made her feel in awhile. A part of her had begun to accept the fact that what she felt for him was nothing but an infatuation. She liked the idea of Hayama, but she'd grown to realize that he was superficial, caring too much of what others thought of him and only feeding into the expectations of his personality set by others.

It was ironic, because while she did care about what other people thought of her to an extent, she had no problem being herself and doing what she wanted. Hayama, however, was the opposite. It felt as if there was no substance to his personality, nothing to learn more about, nothing that he would open up to others about. He'd always kept some distance between him and the clique, and it'd taken her a bit to realize that.

Hachiman was the opposite. He didn't care what anyone thought, he rarely cared about how anyone felt, and he had no problem showing who he really was. If anything, all someone had to do was have a conversation with him and they'd be able to tell that he was unashamedly himself.

She admired that he was a good person (despite his warped sense of logic), even when no one paid attention to him. She knew what she was beginning to feel for the cynic loner, yet she wasn't sure if she could accept it.

This was primarily due to two reasons. The first one being her uncertainty of whether or not Hachiman was even interested in relationships. She could imagine his response as clear as day.

"Romantic relationships between teens are nothing but superficial lies of youth, while genuine relationships consist of blah blah blah." She imitated him, kicking her legs and giggling as she did so. He was sure to give a response like that. That was, if she even dared to ask for his opinion. For all she knew, it could cause him to become suspicious of her.

Still, there was a small part of her that thought, 'what if he wasn't opposed to the idea?'. He wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, so it's not like she'd have any way to tell other than asking- which was something she didn't really want to do.