We Hate Each Other, But It Started With a One-Night Stand - Chapter 1

The scent of charcoal smoke, oil, lemons, and alcohol filled the air. The sounds of glasses and mugs clinking, of lively chatter and boisterous laughter, echoed through the izakaya, filled with workers unwinding after their shifts.

In one corner of this izakaya sat a group of about a dozen young men and women. While they were fairly noisy, considering the setting of an izakaya, their gathering was actually rather well-behaved.

“Still, I never thought Hatano would come to a gathering like this!”

One of the group, a plain-faced young man with dyed brown hair, pointed at a woman and laughed. Perhaps because a fair amount of time had passed since they’d sat down, his face was flushed bright red. The woman whose name he’d called—Hatano—frowned in annoyance at his words and spat out, “Me?” Hatano also seemed fairly tipsy, her face tinged with a faint blush.

She had black hair that fell to her shoulders and wore stylish clothes. She was a twenty-one-year-old woman who didn’t go out of her way to dress cutely, but maintained a basic, neat appearance.

“Yeah, you! I dunno if you think you’re too good for this or what, but you never usually come to these things! What? What’s the special occasion today?”

If he was curious, he could have just asked normally, but he had a foul mouth and spoke without considering the other person’s feelings. Not that she was one to talk, but Hatano hated that about him. In this university’s Literary Club—a gathering of social outcasts—he was her second least favorite person.

“First of all, I don’t understand the point of a ‘Literary Club’ gathering once a week just to drink.”

“There she goes again! Getting all high and mighty! Save the big talk for when you turn pro, wannabe!”

The young man, Iizuka, cackled as he took a sip of his drink. Those around him offered strained smiles or mild scoldings. It was the usual routine. Since Hatano herself didn’t get worked up over his words, just sighing and ignoring him, the others didn’t bother to reprimand him too seriously. But today was slightly different.

“Knock it off, Iizuka. I invited her today—the deadline for that novel submission contest was just three days ago. We both submitted entries, so I invited her with the intention of commiserating.”

The one who stopped Iizuka was a handsome man sitting near the center of the group, wearing a wry smile. He was so good-looking that you’d be lucky to find someone like him even if you camped out at Shibuya Station all day, let alone in this club. Not a few girls had joined the club just to get close to him. “Well, if Shijima says so, I guess I gotta!” Iizuka, who had been yammering away just moments before, couldn’t talk back to Shijima’s intervention and fell silent.

It was truly pathetic how a caste system could form even in a group of just over a dozen people. The undisputed top was, of course, Shijima, and his words were law within this group.

“Sorry, Hatano. I actually wanted to talk more about our work and stuff.”

“It’s fine, whatever. I just won’t come next time.”

Hatano spat out the words with irritation, and Shijima could only offer an apologetic, wry smile.

“Um, Shijima-senpai, you’ve already debuted professionally, right? Aren’t those kinds of newcomer awards for amateurs to submit to?”

At that moment, a petite girl with delicate features, wearing an outfit that exposed her shoulders, addressed Shijima in a sweet, coquettish voice. Her name was Shinomiya, and she, too, was a beauty on par with Shijima.

Perhaps ‘cute’ was a better word than ‘beautiful’.

Her chestnut-brown hair fell to her shoulders, and her pretty black eyes always seemed to look up at people from under her lashes. With her faintly flushed face, she looked up at him with that upward glance. Seizing the opportunity, she tried to initiate a conversation with Shijima in a clearly calculated move, which several other girls watched with visible annoyance.

Shijima—he was a genius writer who had won a newcomer award hosted by a major mystery novel publisher at a young age, gaining attention as a student author. With his exceptional prose and meticulously constructed tricks, he had even won a bookstore award. Honestly, Hatano envied him and respected him.

“Yeah, there are some contests limited to amateurs. But depending on the publisher, their focus varies, or they might stop selling well—for reasons like that, some people move on to other places, so most publishers accept submissions from professionals too. I’m also challenging myself to find places where I can pursue the style I like.”

“Wow! You’re so ambitious, Shijima-senpai! I really admire that!”

Even the unflappable Shijima’s expression softened at the sweet voice of the girl—especially Shinomiya, who was exceptionally pretty. The other girls watched Shinomiya’s preemptive move with irritation, while Iizuka and a few other guys were looking for an opening to talk to Shinomiya themselves.

Observing the scene from a detached perspective, Hatano let out a sigh.

This university’s ‘Literary Club’ was essentially composed of three groups.

First, those like Hatano and Shijima, who actually wrote or read novels—literally engaging with literature.

Next, those like Shinomiya and the other girls, who had come aiming for Shijima.

Finally, those like Iizuka, who had come aiming for those girls.

The moment she organized it like that in her head, Hatano couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter. But it was a dry laugh—while she found this Literary Club annoying, she also stayed enrolled thinking she could learn a lot about creative work from Shijima. But in reality, it was just a university social circle. It wasn’t that she had zero interest in romance, but it was somewhat irritating to have such matters brought into something she was seriously engaged in, even if she wasn’t getting results.

“I think I might have had a little too much to drink…”

Shinomiya looked up at Shijima with flushed face and upturned eyes. It was blatant, something anyone could see, and surely even Shijima himself understood. But annoyingly, even understanding that, she possessed a bewitching charm that made you think, ‘Well, maybe it’s okay.’ She was a bad woman—as a side note, in this increasingly hollow Literary Club, she was the person Hatano disliked even more than Iizuka.

Sucking up to a handsome guy or whatever, that was whatever. But she possessed rare beauty, and yet, all she seemed to want to do was seduce guys in a measly club like this.

Maybe it was something like ressentiment. For Hatano, who had lived an ordinary life, working hard for meager rewards, someone like Shinomiya who didn’t fight with what she was born with was intensely enviable and jealousy-inducing. So, while Shinomiya probably wasn’t a bad person, Hatano disliked her.

She hated people like that the most in the world.

The lemon sour she sipped tasted slightly bitter.

About an hour later, around 10 PM. The drinking party finally began to wind down.

Everyone would go their separate ways home and sleep to prepare for tomorrow. The night, which could be called the digestif of the day, should have passed peacefully, but then a bombshell was dropped.

It was a single line from Shinomiya.

“I’m sorry, I think I drank a bit too much… Could someone please walk me home?”

With her face flushed crimson and eyes glistening, Shinomiya leaned close to Shijima, looking up at him with that upward glance. The club members made faces of disgust, as if they’d found a cockroach at home—to be precise, the female members, who made no attempt to hide their intense anger and revulsion, were practically radiating a ‘stay away’ aura.

On the other hand, it was obvious that several of the denser male members were pretending nonchalance while listening intently, scheming to become her ‘escort wolf’ given the chance. Shijima himself clasped his hands together apologetically.

“Ah, sorry. I have plans to meet a friend from back home after this…”

At Shijima’s apology, Shinomiya’s brow twitched slightly, and she made a blatantly displeased face. However, within seconds, she smiled and slumped her shoulders, saying, “I see, that’s too bad…” Then, with the face of an abandoned kitten, she glanced sidelong at the male members and put on a lonely expression.

“O-oh, if it’s okay with me, I’ll walk you!”

“Nah, I was thinking of taking a taxi home anyway, so this works out!”

“You’re not a child, you can go home alone, right? Right, Shinomiya-san?”

It was a grotesque spectacle. The excited male members and the displeased female members repeated their appeals and checks. I can’t deal with this, Hatano thought, trying to slip away towards the station while ignoring the scene, but Shijima, the lotus flower blooming in the hellish muck, stepped in to mediate.

“N-now, now! It’s true she seems to have had a bit much, and it’s late. It might be dangerous for a young girl to go home completely drunk—Hatano, can I ask you?”

The arrow that came flying, somewhat out of the blue, pierced Hatano’s temple.

She stopped in her tracks and turned around reflexively, meeting Shinomiya’s gaze, who wore an expression that seemed to say she couldn’t believe it either. They had considered each other incompatible beings from different worlds with different ideologies, but in this single moment, their thoughts were perfectly aligned.

“Why me?”

Hatano spat out the words, pressing a hand to her forehead, but Shijima just clasped his hands together apologetically.

“You get it, right? You’re the only one here who fits.”

Of course, she got it. He was a good person. At the very least, since the person in question had expressed a desire to be escorted, he affirmed that, but he was negative about the potential for mistakes if a male did the escorting. Especially since she really was drunk, and if anything against her will happened, it would be a problem.

The female members would never move for her sake, so naturally, the only one who could was Hatano. She couldn’t help but feel she was being conveniently maneuvered, but Hatano’s blood was also red and warm. The idea of Shinomiya getting into trouble was unpleasant.

“H-hey, it’d be a pain for Hatano too, right?! I’ll go!”

The one who barged in, completely misreading the room’s atmosphere, was the plain-faced Iizuka. Yeah, that’s right, say it, his gaze seemed to urge Hatano, but his heavily bulging crotch, bloodshot eyes, and expression that didn’t even try to hide his desire were somewhat alarming. Considering that refusing here might give him a legitimate reason to take her home, it was difficult to say no.

Shinomiya was making sounds like “Ehh” and “Ahh,” searching for words to refuse Hatano’s escort, but she seemed genuinely drunk, her speech slurred and her mind not working, no proper words coming out. Hatano was also drunk, but she was feeling smug about it.

“Fine, fine—I’ll take her back. Let’s just wrap this up already.”

At the very least, throwing Little Red Riding Hood to the pack of wolves would give her a bad conscience. Reluctantly agreeing, a variety of reactions came back. Among them, Shijima, who showed the most genuinely relieved expression, clasped his hands together and said, “Sorry. Next time, I’ll help you with editing or something,” making Hatano’s sigh shorten just a little.

After disbanding in a manner that left lingering discord, Hatano headed for the station, gripping Shinomiya’s arm. Both their expressions were extremely displeased; it was a result where no one benefited.

“This is the worst. Why does it have to be Hatano-senpai?”

“You should say things like that behind my back. I am walking you home.”

“If I said it behind your back, it’d be backbiting.”

“Saying it to my face is just plain insulting.”

Shinomiya complained with a deeply flushed face, not even trying to hide her true feelings and looking utterly dissatisfied. Her steps were indeed unsteady; Hatano learned for the first time, several months after meeting her, that she wasn’t the type to skillfully pretend to be drunk to get a guy to walk her home.

“I wish it was Shijima-senpai… Or at least a guy…”

Pouting her lips, she began to mutter complaints. Having gained the certainty that this was her true self and her cunning act was just a performance, Hatano sighed and humored her grumbling.

“You’re that good-looking, you can have your pick of guys.”

“…It’s not like I particularly like guys, you know?”

“Huh?”

Frowning in confusion, Hatano watched as Shinomiya, with her red face, grinned sloppily and murmured.

“‘Escorting a cute, drunk girl’ means they recognize my cuteness, right? And when a guy does that, the girls get jealous of me, don’t they?”

“Well, that’s why it was hell earlier.”

“Jealousy is envy. It’s like they’re recognizing me.”

Hmph, she said with a somewhat proud air. Regardless of why she was fixated on such things, there was logic in her words. Certainly, the desire to get close, the feeling of jealousy towards someone fawned over by guys—ultimately, it probably meant evaluating that person’s abilities or current state.

“That’s why I dislike you, senpai. You don’t like me, but you don’t dislike me either—you’re the worst in the world. Probably, I might dislike you the most in the whole world.”

“Whatever, good for you. I dislike you the most in the world too.”

No point humoring a drunk’s ramblings, Hatano thought, trading barbs.

“Ah! You said something mean!”

Ignoring the childish retort, Hatano was driven by the impulse to let go of the arm she was holding. But if Shinomiya toppled over the guardrail or something, she’d probably haunt her dreams. Feeling annoyed, she dragged Shinomiya along as they walked to the station.

“So, which station?”

“Tachikawa.”

“Hah!?”

Hatano took out her smartphone to check the time and clicked her tongue. “That’s the complete opposite direction.” From here to Tachikawa, then back the way she came to go home—unfortunately, she lived out in the sticks. She would definitely miss the last train.

“The last train’s gonna be gone, so get home on your own from here.”

“Ehh!? How irresponsible! In situations like this, you’re supposed to send me back even if you have to use a taxi!”

Her speech was already slurred, her steps unsteady, her eyes half-closed. Sleeping through her stop was one thing, but if something happened on the way from the station to her home, it would be a hassle. She couldn’t afford something as rich as sending her back by taxi, but she also couldn’t bring herself to abandon her.

“Learn to drink in moderation.”

She scolded with irritation, but Shinomiya just grinned and answered, “Guys would properly walk me home. Some might be after my body, but I don’t really mind.” However, regardless of her expression, the content of those words was no laughing matter. It wasn’t so much sexual promiscuity as a way of life that seemed to find meaning and value only in being desired by others—it was precarious and unpleasant.

Hatano scratched her head roughly and let out a powerful sigh.

“…Stay at my place tonight.”

“Ehh!? Senpai’s place!? I might catch some weird disease!”

Despite what felt like a concession of a hundred million steps, Shinomiya looked displeased. Hatano was driven by the impulse to tear out that chestnut-brown hair, but after a deep, long sigh, Shinomiya shrugged.

“…Well, I guess I have no choice. I’ll stay over.”

By the time they got to Hatano’s apartment, it was almost midnight.

By the time they reached the cheap one-room apartment where Hatano lived alone while working part-time, Shinomiya’s consciousness was already fading. In the cramped room with a bed, sofa, and table all crammed together, Hatano half-carried, half-dragged Shinomiya inside. “You worked hard,” Shinomiya murmured dreamily, and Hatano glared at her with ragged breath and murderous eyes. Should I just kill her?

But killing her here would make all this effort a waste, Hatano thought desperately, throwing Shinomiya’s slender frame onto her own bed. “Eep!” Shinomiya let out a cute sound, and Hatano felt like spitting. Burying her flushed face in the pure white pillow, Shinomiya stopped exchanging words and began to assume the posture of deep sleep.

She probably can’t even hear me anymore, the equally deeply drunk Hatano thought, deciding to just say what needed to be said and then sleep herself. She addressed the girl whose eyes were now closed.

“I have a lecture tomorrow, so be up before I leave the house.”

“Mmm…”

“And I’ll send you the cleaning bill later. I don’t want to sleep in the bed you used.”

“Uii…”

“Lastly, be grateful I’m sleeping on the sofa.”

“Ehh…”

Though the responses were devolving into something less than human language, Hatano was too drowsy to muster any anger. Watching her begin to breathe steadily in sleep, he switched his own consciousness toward joining her. Thinking it would be troublesome if she caught a cold from the autumn breeze with her rhythmic breathing, he tossed the duvet over her. Then, draping a nearby blanket over himself, he collapsed onto the sofa and used the remote to turn off the room lights.

The first thing he sensed was someone else’s breath, different from his own. The discomfort of a breathing rhythm out of sync with his own lungs’ movement was followed by the scent of an unfamiliar shampoo piercing his nostrils. Finally, the sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains announced morning, and Hatano finally awoke.

Then, seeing Shinomiya’s sleeping face spread out before his eyes, his drowsiness vanished in an instant.

“…Huh?”

For several seconds, his brain refused the task of comprehension, leaving him capable only of muttering his doubt without any coherent thought. However, after a moment, he vaguely recalled bringing Shinomiya home last night. Suffering from a hangover headache, he accepted that he must have ended up sleeping in the same bed with her.

He was about to fully accept it when he stopped short. Wait, didn’t I sleep on the sofa?

Thinking this, Hatano cautiously tried to sit up, only to immediately hug himself against a chill. Belatedly, he recognized that he was stark naked.

An unpleasant sweat trickled down his neck. He thought about escaping reality by going to make coffee. But reasoning that confronting the facts was necessary, Hatano fearfully peeked at Shinomiya’s body, hidden beneath the duvet.

She, too, was completely naked. Realizing this, his heart began to pound wildly. This is bad.

His first thought was self-defense. “Which one of us…?” he whispered in a trembling voice to no one in particular. But given that he, who should have been on the sofa, was here in the bed, the identity of the person who had taken advantage of the sleeping situation was clear. His reason screamed that he should swiftly destroy the evidence. First, put clothes on her, then put clothes on himself. What to do after that? He was just beginning to think frantically about such things when a muffled “Mmm…” from Shinomiya struck his eardrums.

She buried her face in the pillow, gripped the sheets with her beautiful hands, and pulled the duvet back over herself. A few seconds later, as if remembering something, she drowsily opened her eyes. Her unfocused gaze captured the sight of Hatano’s naked, sweating body. For several seconds, she froze.

Then, as if replaying the earlier scene, Shinomiya’s eyes flew wide open in an instant. Next, as if to confirm something, she moved her hand under the duvet, making a motion that seemed to probe her lower abdomen. Realizing she was also naked, Shinomiya looked at Hatano with a bewildered expression and softly voiced her confusion.

“…Huh?”