Sunday, March 20, 2016

Yahari Ore no Seishun Rabukome wa Machigatte Iru Volume 10.5

Volume 10.5, Chapter 1

Some day, even Zaimokuza Yoshiteru will stumble across an easy job that he can do, probably.

As anyone on this planet would know, Chiba rarely saw snow during the winter. Obviously, that didn’t mean it wasn’t cold because it was cold; it’s winter, after all. I could even claim that Chiba’s frigidity far surpasses any other winter country.

Of course, I really had no idea since I had never spent the period between the end of January to February anywhere else besides Chiba.

The only visible comparison I could go by was the display on the thermometer and the weather report reporting on the below-freezing weather, but regardless, I wouldn’t actually know how cold it’d really be until I experienced it for myself.

On the other hand, it’s another truth that the number on the thermometer wasn’t always representative of how cold it’d be in Chiba.

In the world, there existed something called a heat index.

You experienced something first-hand, perceived it, learned it, and for the first time, you’d actually feel it.

As a juxtaposed example, right now, I could feel a growing divergence between the number on the wall thermometer and my heat index.

The sole reason for this was due to a single male student in front of me.

Sweat was excreting from all over his body even though it’s the peak of winter, his mouth was convulsing, and he was wiping off the sweat at his brow with the back of his hand covered with fingerless gloves.


When he groaned with a heavy voice, that student—Zaimokuza Yoshiteru—hung his head. As he was doing that, he buried his head into the coat he was seemingly fond of and closely resembled an avant-garde monument. He looked like he could be mistakenly placed at the entrance of a tower apartment for a high-class street in the Musashi Kosugi area.

With just that single groan, Zaimokuza went quiet and the Service Club returned to a space of stillness.

Aside from Zaimokuza and me, there were other people present in the club, but every single one of them was absorbed in their own business: one was reading a book with a cup of tea in one hand, another was fiddling with her cellphone while chomping down on tea cakes, and the last one was adjusting her bangs looking at a compact mirror.

“…Muuuuun.” Zaimokuza moaned again and looked up at the ceiling. This time his voice was, unlike earlier, feeble. But even so, he received no response.

When not a single person—not even one—reacted, Zaimokuza incessantly moaned over and over again.

Eventually getting fed up with that, a brief sigh came from the diagonally opposite corner of the table where I was sitting.

When I glanced in its direction, the Service Club president, Yukinoshita Yukino, placed her cup onto a saucer and pressed against her temple.

Yukinoshita made a gander at Zaimokuza and then slid her eyes over to me. “…For the time being, shall we ask what his business is?”

“Ehh…? But the only one who can talk with chuuni is Hikki, though.”

The one who reluctantly answered while chomping down on rice crackers was Yuigahama Yui. With her body collapsed forward on the table, she turned her head towards me.

Well, for Yukinoshita and Yuigahama to give the suddenly intruding Zaimokuza some kind of response despite how long it took them, it could be considered as a form of kindness.

To continue reading, you can download pdf file here!