CHAPTER 3

Saturday. The day of.

We assembled in front of the station. I stuffed an assortment of junk into the largest backpack I could find in our house and walked all the way to the station to find the other four lined up waiting for me.

From a distance, my eyes were drawn to Haruhi in casual dress and Asahina in feminine clothing next to her. Like two sisters who didn’t resemble each other the least bit. Asahina was supposed to be the upperclassman here, yet she looked like the younger sister. Only her clothes appeared to be more mature.

Asahina, surrounded by the trio of weirdos, spotted me and waved her hand in a somewhat relieved fashion by way of greeting. Hmm.

“You’re late!” Haruhi was yelling, but she looked to be in high spirits again today. She was standing empty-handed because her megaphone and folding director’s chair were among my burden of assorted junk.

“It isn’t nine o’clock yet,” I said sourly as I looked left and right at Nagato’s porcelain face and Koizumi’s easy smile. “Anyway, Nagato always wears her uniform when we don’t have school so that’s normal, but why is Koizumi also wearing his uniform?”

“It would appear that this is my costume for the movie.”

That was his response.

“That is what I was told yesterday. My role will be that of an esper disguised as an ordinary high school student.”

Isn’t that exactly what you are?

As I dropped the bag stuffed with the camera and props and wiped off my forehead, Haruhi grinned like a grade-schooler about to go on a field trip.

“Kyon, you were the last to show up so you’ll be fined. But not yet. We’re taking the bus now. I’ll cover the bus fare. Call it a necessary expense. You buy lunch for everyone.”

And with that totalitarian decision, she started waving her hand. “Come on, everyone! The bus stop’s this way! Get a move on!”

It didn’t escape my attention that her armband now read Super-Director. Apparently, Haruhi already believed herself beyond a mere great director. She must have had one hell of a movie in mind. I’ll say it again: An Asahina promotional video would be far more entertaining to film.

After thirty minutes of bumpy bus riding, we got off at a stop in the hills. Then we spent another thirty minutes laboriously hiking up a steep trail.

It was a commonplace forest park you could find anywhere. Being born and raised around here, I was quite familiar with the area. When I was in grade school, we had a hiking field trip to the nearby hills almost every year.

It was a park in name only—in reality just some cleared-off open space with a fountain tacked on. An utterly empty place that made you want to openly question why a person would voluntarily climb up here. The only happy people I saw around were kids ignorant of pleasure and the family members who’d brought them here.

We set up in a corner of the plaza where the fountain was and designated it as our filming base. Empty-handed, Haruhi looked to be brimming with energy, but I was completely worn out. If I hadn’t forced half the stuff onto Koizumi on the way up, I seriously might have collapsed. I leaned against the Wandervogel-issue-looking bag and tried to catch my breath.

“Um, would you like a drink?”

A small plastic bottle was thrust before me. The hand holding the bottle belonged to Asahina.

“If you don’t mind that I already drank from it…” Oolong tea made for gods. It must taste heavenly. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. If I don’t drink it, lightning will strike me down.

As I gladly reached for the offered drink, the evil devil’s hand brushed away the angel’s arm. Haruhi snatched the oolong tea away from Asahina.

“Save it for later. Mikuru, now isn’t the time to be watering the help. We have to hurry or else we might lose this perfect weather. Let’s get the camera rolling.”

Asahina’s eyes opened as wide as saucers.

“What…? We’re going to shoot here?”

“Of course we are. Why do you think we came here?”

“Then I don’t have to change? Since there isn’t a place for me to change around here…”

“Sure, there is. Look, there are places all around us.”

Haruhi pointed to an area surrounded by a jagged ridge of trees.

“N-n-no—H-help…”

Before I had a chance to help, Haruhi disappeared deep into the woods with Asahina in tow.

Once Asahina reappeared, she was clad in the spiffy waitress outfit that would serve as her film attire. Her hair was a tumbled mess as she gazed with quivering eyes at the autumn foliage growing on the side of the road.

One of her eyes was noticeably a different color. Her left eye’s blue. What the hell?

“Color contact,” Haruhi explained. “It’s pretty important to have the left eye be a different color. Look, that’s all it takes to add to her mysteriousness. It’s all we need to make this work. A symbol of sorts, a symbol.”

She grabbed Asahina’s chin from behind and tilted her little face. Asahina just looked dumbfounded as she was being manipulated.

“There’s a secret in this blue eye,” said Haruhi.

“Well, yeah. Wouldn’t be much of a story if her eyes were different colors for no reason.”

The sight of Asahina’s exhausted face was enough to hook me, though.

“So? What’s so secret about that color contact?”

“That’s still a secret,” Haruhi replied with a smirk. “Hey, Mikuru. How long are you going to play dead? Get your act together. You’re the leading actress. The most important person after the director and producer. Chin up! Stand up straight!”

“Wah—”

And with a sob, Asahina began posing per Haruhi’s instructions. Haruhi forced Asahina to hold the pistol (it’s just a model) in her hands.

“Act like you’re a female assassin. And make sure people can tell you’re from the future.”

Just a few of her unreasonable requests. Asahina timidly held the Glock as she glanced sideways at me—the camera—as best as she could. Gotta love how you can feel her pushing herself, yeah. No, I’m serious.

In any case, that freak sure is unnecessarily active. I’ve seen plenty of bad movies, and I’ve never thought that I could do a better job so I should make my own film. I wouldn’t know how to go about making one anyway. Even if I were to make my own film, I don’t entertain the notion that it would be any good. But it would appear that Haruhi seriously believes she has the talent to be a director. At the very least, it’s pretty certain that she intends to make something better than those minor films on late-night TV. What exactly does she have to support all that confidence?

Haruhi was yelling as she waved the yellow megaphone around.

“Mikuru! Act less embarrassed! Forget who you are! You just need to become your role! You are no longer Mikuru Asahina! You are Mikuru Asahina!”

… Of course, we already knew that there was no basis for Haruhi’s confidence. Causing chaos in natural order with groundless confidence was an ability Haruhi was born with. Or else she wouldn’t be able to proudly wear that armband and act so high and mighty.

Under director Haruhi’s supervision, we began the commemorative shooting of the first scene.

Except that it just consisted of me standing on the side shooting Asahina running across the area. This was supposed to be the opening. She could have at least written a script. But Haruhi said flat-out that no such thing existed.

“It would be bad if I put everything on paper and it got leaked.”

That was her reasoning. Looks like we’re going to film this movie Hong Kong–style. I was feeling pretty damn exhausted at this point, but when I looked through the camera lens at Asahina dual-wielding pistols, jogging along out of breath, I figured I had it relatively easy.

As the rest of us watched, Asahina continuously ran wearily from right to left until the fifth take when the director finally signaled okay, which was when she collapsed on the ground.

“Ha… ha…”

Paying no attention to the waitress with both hands on the ground as her back rose and fell with each breath, Haruhi directed her next instruction to Nagato, waiting on the sidelines.

“Okay, we’re doing Yuki and Mikuru’s battle scene next.”

Nagato, in her favorite black outfit, slowly moved in front of the camera. The outfit was just a pitch-black mantle over her uniform and a black pointy hat on her head, so there was no need for her to be dragged into the thicket like Asahina, fortunately. Then again, Nagato would probably be fine with changing her clothes anywhere. Why don’t we reverse their roles? Make Nagato the waitress and Asahina the mage. That would be curiously appropriate.

Haruhi had Asahina and Nagato stand facing each other three meters apart.

“Mikuru, unload like crazy on Yuki.”

“Huh,” Mikuru responded. She shook her hair, which was a tangled mess after all that running. “But I’m not supposed to fire this at people…”

“It’s fine. With your aim, you won’t hit her much anyway. Even if you were able to hit her, Yuki could probably just dodge it.”

Nagato just stood silently with the star-tipped pointer in hand.

Well yeah, I’d have to agree there. Nagato could have a gun pressed against her forehead and still manage to dodge the bullet.

“Um…”

Looking like a newly hired waitress having to report a broken dish to the scary chef, Asahina nervously glanced up at Nagato.

“It’s fine,” replied Nagato. And with a spin of the pointer, she said, “Shoot me.”

“See, she says it’s fine. Fire away. And just a heads-up, you don’t fire both at the same time. You alternate. That’s a basic principle of dual-wielding pistols.”

Koizumi was holding the reflector board above his head. Haruhi brought it from who knows where. The photography club might be reporting a theft right about now.

“Anyway, Koizumi, aren’t you the leading man?”

“One must adapt to the circumstances as they change. I’m more disposed to being on this side of the camera. I’ve been thinking since yesterday about a way to remain backstage…”

“Unh!”

Asahina, straining to hold up the pistols, fired rapidly with her eyes shut tight. And I stood to the side filming that sight. I couldn’t really see the BB trails, but considering that Nagato was standing completely still without even a flicker of emotion across her face, I guess she really wasn’t scoring any hits. Maybe she’s using magic… or so I was thinking when Nagato slowly raised the pointer and whirled it before her face. Bullets began falling to the ground with a clatter. Even without glasses, her vision was as incredible as ever.

Nagato was staring at the muzzle without a single blink. Not that she blinked much to begin with, but then again, blinking just because “it would be unnatural if I didn’t blink once in a while” would feel even more unnatural. Whether she was walking around with her pupils wide open, breaking through ceilings, or teleporting around, I would no longer be surprised. Which was why I wasn’t surprised right then.

Nagato waved the pointer sporadically like a broken windshield wiper and with each swing, BBs fell with a clatter.

In any case, this sure was a boring battle scene. Nagato was only waving her wand around and Asahina was only firing those two Glocks or Berettas or whatever. And she wasn’t hitting anything. First off, Haruhi only told her to “unload like crazy” and didn’t give her any lines to say. All we could hear was Asahina moaning and wailing in her little, lovely voice.

The whole thing felt more like a halfhearted battle scene between a viper and mongoose who had agreed to avoid any fatal blows beforehand.

“Yeah, that should do it.”

Once Asahina had run out of bullets, Haruhi tapped her shoulder with the megaphone. I lowered the video camera and approached Haruhi, sitting cross-legged on the director’s chair.

“Hey, Haruhi. How is this a movie? I have no idea what the story is about.”

Super-director Suzumiya gave me a side glance.

“That’s fine. I planned on having a lot of cut-and-paste work done during the editing phase anyway.”

Who’s going to be doing it? That cut-and-paste work. I have a feeling the word “editing” has been included in my list of duties.

“At least put in some lines,” I suggested.

“We can just remove the noise and dub over later if we have to. We’re going to have to add sound effects and background music. There’s no need to think too much about it at this point!”

Well, yeah. Considering that the story’s only in your head at this point, there’s nothing for us to think about. At the very least, I have to take care to keep Haruhi’s sexual harassment of Asahina to a bare minimum. No other males are allowed to touch her body. That’s where I draw the line. No one’s got a problem with that, right?

“Let’s move on to the next scene, then! Time for Yuki’s counterattack. Yuki, wreck Mikuru with your magic!”

Nagato’s eyes, darker than her costume, turned to me from under the brim of her black hat. Her head tilted at an angle only I could distinguish. I basically got the message. Nagato was asking if it was okay.

No! was the obvious response. Magic aside, I couldn’t give permission to hurt Asahina in any way. Look, she’s all pale and trembling.

Of course, Haruhi had no idea that Nagato could use incomprehensible, spontaneous magic. She just wanted her to act like she was using magic.

Nagato appeared to understand and, while remaining completely silent, raised the antenna pointer and began waving it around the way audience members at a concert wave glow sticks.

“That’s good enough,” said Haruhi. “We’ll add visual effects to this scene. Kyon, make it so there are beams shooting out of Yuki’s wand later.”

How am I supposed to add in effects like that? I don’t have the ability. If you’re planning on borrowing staff and equipment from Industrial Light & Magic, though, that’s a different story.

“That’s when Mikuru should scream! And then fall down in pain.”

After a moment of nervous hesitation, Asahina murmured, “… Eek,” before suddenly falling straight onto her face. Nagato stood next to a fallen Asahina like the Grim Reaper come to claim her soul. I stood filming the whole scene while Koizumi stood next to me, still holding up the reflector board.

The stares from all of the families around us were starting to hurt.

Having been granted a brief respite in a most compassionate act by Haruhi, we sat in a ring on the ground.

Haruhi was replaying the film I had shot with a deliberate look on her face as she nodded to herself.

A number of children had scurried in between Asahina and Nagato and were asking questions like, “What show is this for?” Asahina shook her head with a weak smile while Nagato completely ignored them, becoming one with the land.

I had no idea what kind of scenes the footage I was taking would be used for since Haruhi refused to tell us, but the super-director informed us that we would be going to a nearby shrine next. Break’s over already, huh?

“There are doves there.”

That’s the case, apparently.

“We’re going to film Mikuru walking with doves flying all around in the background. I’d prefer doves that are completely white, but I’m willing to take any color at this point.”

I was pretty sure we were only going to find typical park doves. With her arm linked in the already worn-out Asahina’s arm (so she wouldn’t be able to run away), Haruhi walked through the forest park toward the street. Koizumi and I divided up the equipment and followed like local Sherpas trailing a film crew doing a piece on the jungle. We eventually arrived at a large shrine in the middle of the mountains. I hadn’t been there in a while. Not since a field trip in grade school.

Haruhi stood in front of a sign on the grounds that said Do not feed while spreading bread crumbs like she was trying to make flowers bloom on a wilted tree. I guess she can’t read.

All at once the ground was covered by a swarm of doves, endlessly dropping from the sky. The sight of the shrine grounds covered in doves was quite disturbing. Asahina was standing alone within the carpet of doves. The waitress stood, lip trembling, with her feet being pecked. I was filming the scene from the front. What the hell was I doing?

Offscreen, Haruhi raised the Eagle or Tokarev or whatever kind of gun it was she had taken from Asahina and flipped off the safety. I was wondering what she was doing when she suddenly fired at Asahina’s feet.

“Ahh—”

Never thought I’d actually get to see doves getting whacked by a peashooter. The act of violence, enough to make the SPCA come flying in, sent the symbols of peace fluttering and shrieking.

“This is it! This is the shot I wanted! Kyon, make sure you’re filming this!”

I suppose that since the camera was running, I was technically filming. Asahina was hunched over with her hands over her head within the swirl of doves flying in all directions.

“Come on, Mikuru! You’re supposed to walk toward us while the doves are flying in the background! Stand up!”

It didn’t look like we’d have time to shoot such a scene. As I gazed through the viewfinder, I could see that in the background, a priest from the shrine had come flying in the SPCA’s stead. He was wearing a hakama, so it’d be safe to assume he was affiliated with the shrine. I was preparing for a stern lecture or two when Haruhi, without a moment’s hesitation, resorted to drastic measures.

With the CZ or SIG or whatever model gun in hand, she aimed at the old man and opened fire. The priest (probably) began dancing like he was standing on a hot iron plate. The AARP’s going to come calling next.

“Retreat!”

And with that cry, Haruhi quickly turned and sprinted off. No idea when Nagato had made her move, but she was already waiting for us under the gate in the distance. Asahina would probably be too slow to escape if we left her by herself, so Koizumi and I each grabbed an arm and carried her off with the rest of the equipment.

The director had already run away. We couldn’t leave the leading lady behind to be the scapegoat.

Ten minutes later, we were sitting in the corner of some kind of roadside restaurant. We were having lunch, and for some reason I had to pay for it.

“That might have been a waste. It might have been a better ad lib to just pretend that the old priest was an enemy and beat the crap out of him.”

Haruhi was babbling on about borderline criminal activity.

Once Asahina had sucked in a whole three noodles of her zaru soba, she collapsed face-forward on the table.

“Mikuru. You don’t eat much, huh? You’ll never grow like that. Only your breasts are growing. That’ll only satisfy a group of hard-core freaks. You need to grow taller, too.”

While she was saying that, Haruhi was stealing Asahina’s noodles and scarfing them down.

I already know. I don’t know how many years it will be, but Asahina will grow to have a face and body that could represent the whole solar system. She doesn’t know that, though.

Koizumi had a mocking smile on his face. Nagato tacitly moved assorted sandwiches to her mouth and chewed.

I pushed my empty plate of spaghetti to the side and spoke to Haruhi, with two people’s lunches before her.

“What are you going to do if that priest complains to the school? Koizumi’s uniform made it pretty obvious where we were from.”

“It’ll probably be fine.” Haruhi was ridiculously optimistic. “It was fairly far away and the blazer’s pretty common. If he does complain, we just have to play dumb. Pretend it was someone else. BBs aren’t enough to prove anything.”

I stared at the video camera containing the incriminating evidence. I’m pretty sure that the second this is screened, the cat will be out of the bag. I doubt there is another waitress in the area willing to go to a shrine to be surrounded by doves.

“So? Where are we going next?”

“We’ll go back to the park. On second thought, that wasn’t enough to be a battle. We’ll need more intense action to grip the audience’s hearts. Yeah, I can picture it already. Mikuru, running frantically around the forest, pursued by Yuki. And then Mikuru falls off a cliff. That’s when Koizumi, who happens to be passing by, saves her. How’s that sound?”

Pretty haphazard turn of events. What kind of high school student would happen to be walking by in the middle of these mountains in his uniform? Pretty damn suspicious. And I had a feeling Haruhi really intended to shove Asahina off a cliff. Yeah, Haruhi, you should take the fall. Put on the costume and act as Asahina’s stunt double. Well, you’re missing a bit around the chest area….

As I was pondering such matters, Haruhi raised her eyebrows and gave me a sideways look.

“Are you thinking about something else? You had better not be picturing me in the waitress outfit.”

What an accurate guess.

“I’m the director. I can’t just merrily step in front of the camera. If you try to chase a couple of rabbits, you’ll end up tripping over a stump and falling down.”

“Aren’t you also supposed to be the producer?”

“There’s nothing wrong with undertaking multiple backstage roles. Still, it might be nice to show up on camera for a brief cameo appearance. Adding some fun tidbits will hook those hard-core fans.”

What kind of fans are you aiming for? Asahina fans? At this point, this is nothing more than an Asahina costume collection…. On second thought, that’s good enough.

Koizumi returned his café au lait to the table with an elegant motion. “Are the three of us the only ones who will be appearing in the movie?”

Idiot. Don’t ask unneeded questions.

“That’s right….”

Haruhi puckered her lips like a duck’s bill and became deeply engrossed in thought. You should think this kind of stuff out beforehand.

“Three people might be too few. Yeah, it’s not enough. Supporting characters are what allow the main characters to truly shine. Koizumi, excellent pickup. To show my appreciation, I’ll increase your screen time.”

“Why… thank you very much.”

Koizumi remained smiling, though his face had an oops look on it. Serves you right. Let sleeping dogs lie. I kept my mouth shut.

But where did she intend to find new characters? There was a seventy-five percent chance that anyone she brought in at random would have some kind of twisted backstory. Based on progression, a slider would probably be next. And I sure didn’t want one of those to show up in our world.

“You have to beat up a bunch of underlings before you can defeat the last boss. Underlings, underlings…”

I glanced at Haruhi, fingers stroking her lower lip.

“They should be good enough.”

I read Haruhi’s mind. Taniguchi and Kunikida. The only two people I can live with her bringing in at this point. Less significant than supporting characters. True underlings. They’re less harmless than a healer slime showing up alone.

“That works.”

I averted my eyes from the face of the director, looking like she wanted one more person, to steal a glance at Asahina with her eyes shut and her cheek on the table. She’s even cute when she’s asleep. Even if she’s faking it.

I turned to look at Nagato, slurping her soda in that Grim Reaper getup. Once I was done observing her utter lack of emotion, I turned back to Haruhi.

“So? What’s next? What are we filming?”

Haruhi slowly gulped down the soba broth, buying herself the time it took until it finished. Once she was done, she spoke.

“In any case, we need something bad to happen to Mikuru. A poor little girl undergoes ordeal after terrible ordeal until she finally gets her happy ending. That’s the theme of this movie. The more Mikuru suffers, the more impact the final catharsis will have. Don’t worry, Mikuru. The movie has a happy ending.”

The ending will be the only happy part. In the meantime, Asahina has to suffer director Haruhi’s abuse. Well then, I wonder what kind of scenario Haruhi has prepared. Since I appear to be the only restraint on Haruhi, I’ll need to pay extra special attention. By the way, what’s a catharsis?

Asahina’s closed eyes were now half-open and looking at me, pleading for help. A case of heterochromia where only her left eye was blue. However, she quickly released a soft sigh and her eyes slowly closed. What is this? Are you saying that you can’t rely on me?

Since Koizumi and Nagato won’t serve as any sort of obstruction at this point, I’m your only ally here.

Of course, it’s not like I’ve had any success trying to stop Haruhi in the past six months. I wish she’d at least accept my chivalrous intentions. Though I can’t deny that this feels about as empty as throwing a lance at a windmill.

To be honest, I was wondering if I should even stop her. Half a year ago, I felt that I absolutely had to stop her from founding the SOS Brigade, even if I had to tie her arms behind her back. In the end, while I was dillydallying around, Haruhi went ahead and prepared a room and members. Little by little, I also ended up as one of the members… which brings us to our current situation.

Still, if I had whacked her in the back of the head with a stick or jumped her or ambushed her and managed to stop her, I might not have met Asahina or Nagato or Koizumi. Or we would have met under different circumstances. Which means I wouldn’t have known about unbelievable things like aliens and time travelers. We would just pass each other in the hallway as classmates or total strangers.

Don’t ask me which way would have been better. I’ve already heard self-promotion spiels from the other three members, and I’ve already been witness to Nagato’s weird power, the other Asahina, and Koizumi turning into a red ball. If we went to some parallel world, you could probably find a version of me that hasn’t spoken a word with Haruhi or the other three, so go ahead and ask him. I don’t have an answer.

But I had to come up with an answer in this current situation. Filmmaking. Hmm. An appropriate cultural festival activity. Nothing wrong with that. The only thing weird would be inside Haruhi’s head, but at this point that would come as a surprise to nobody. As far as I’m concerned, Haruhi spontaneously babbling about wanting to make a movie could be considered routine work. Just wing it and things will work themselves out—

At least, that’s what I thought. That’s why I didn’t bother trying to stop filming the movie. Be a director or whatever you want. Abuse everyone around you to your heart’s content. If that’s what makes you happy, I’ll smother my internal sighing and go along with it. Because by all means, I sure as hell don’t want to be locked up alone with you in some weird dimension again.

As I watched a psyched-up Haruhi, an exhausted Asahina, a smiling Koizumi, and a poker-faced Nagato, that’s how I felt.

Not knowing that I would later regret not stopping her.

We returned to the forest park. Can’t you work on the scheduling some more? We should have finished the filming before we ran off to the shrine. The problem was that the script only existed inside Haruhi’s head. It’s important to write things down. The written word is a wonderful thing.

“Forget the guns. I was expecting more impressive bullets, but it doesn’t make an impression without any flashy smoke or sounds. Doesn’t seem to be working at all. I guess fake isn’t good enough.”

As Haruhi made remarks that would only send Yamatsuchi Model Shop’s business further into the red, she used the tips of her sneakers to draw two crosses on the ground. Looks like those are where Asahina and Nagato are supposed to stand.

“Mikuru’s over here. Yuki’s here.”

“Wah.”

After being dragged around by Haruhi the whole morning, Asahina was looking like she’d already burned up a day’s worth of calories, no longer having the energy to resist. Wandering around in that sexy-waitress outfit must have taken a serious toll on her spirit. She could no longer feel shame, having regressed to an infantile mind state, acting like a doll.

Nagato acted like a doll to begin with. She moved silently to her assigned position with her black mantle fluttering in a mountain breeze.

Haruhi twirled around her finger the model gun she had taken from Asahina.

“Don’t move from that position. I want a scene of the two of you glaring at each other. Koizumi, get the reflector board ready.”

And then Haruhi, having returned to the director’s chair, pointed the gun at the sky and opened fire.

“Action!” she yelled.

I raised the camera, flustered, but Asahina was probably even more flustered. Action? Haruhi only told her to stand still. What kind of action was supposed to happen here?

“…”

Nagato and Asahina wordlessly gauged each other’s expressions.

“Um…”

Asahina was the first to look away.

“…”

Nagato continued to stare at Asahina.

“…”

Asahina also fell silent.

And for a while, the two just continued staring at each other as a soft breeze blew by.

“Geez!”

Haruhi snapped for some reason.

“You can’t have a battle like that!”

Since they’re just standing there.

Haruhi, now holding the megaphone instead of a gun, stomped over to Asahina and began pounding the chestnut braids she had tied.

“Mikuru, listen up. You can’t just relax because you happen to be cute. There are more than enough girls out there who get by just by being cute. If you let loose for just a bit, those younger girls will pass you by in no time.”

What are you trying to say?

Haruhi continued lecturing Asahina, covering her head.

“That’s why, Mikuru. At least fire a beam from your eye!”

“Huh?”

Asahina opened her eyes in surprise.

“That’s impossible!”

“It’s why your left eye is a different color. It isn’t blue for no reason. There is supposed to be incredible power hidden within. That’s where the beam comes in. Mikuru Beam. Shoot.”

“I-I can’t!”

“Try harder!”

Haruhi had the slumped Asahina in a headlock and was whacking the back of her head with the yellow megaphone.

The sight of Asahina crying out in pain was too much for me to bear. I handed the camera to Koizumi, who had set down the reflector board to enjoy the scene, and grabbed Haruhi by the collar.

“Cut it out, moron.”

I peeled the tyrannical super-director off the small waitress.

“Normal humans can’t possibly fire beams from their eyes. Are you an idiot?”

Look at Asahina, covering her head with her arms. The poor thing’s on the verge of tears. Just look at those pearls dripping from her round eyes.

“Hmph.”

Haruhi, still in my grip, turned to the side and sniffed. “I obviously know that much.”

I released my grip. Haruhi tapped the back of her neck with the megaphone.

“I was telling her to use as much effort as it would take to shoot out beams. Since she has so little drive, it’s hard to believe she’s the leading actress. You really can’t take a joke, can you?”

The problem would be that your jokes end up being anything but. What if Asahina really ends up being able to fire beams?

… She can’t, right?

Worried, I gave Asahina a sideways glance. She looked up at me with tears flowing from her heterochromatic eyes, then blinked and tilted her head. It would appear that my eye contact didn’t get the message through to her. That was when Koizumi popped out and admonished Haruhi.

“Perhaps we can use CG effects after we’re done filming to handle that section.”

Koizumi, with a tissue box in hand, flashed a friendly smile like a con artist and handed the box to Asahina.

“Wasn’t that your intention to begin with, Suzumiya?”

“It sure was,” said Haruhi.

Sure it was, I thought.

Asahina wiped away her tears with the tissues and blew her nose while looking suspiciously at Haruhi and me.

Nagato remained standing in the wind, looking like an overly conspicuous stagehand. Can’t the sun set already? I can’t wait for it to become too dark to film anymore.

“That was no good. We’re doing a retake,” Haruhi said and began brainstorming a signature pose with Asahina. “Put your hand like this as you shout ‘Mikuru Beam!’ ”

“Something like this…?”

“No, like this! And shut your right eye.”

Apparently, a beam fires from her eye when her left hand displays a victory sign next to her left eye while winking.

“Mikuru, try saying it.”

“… Mi-Mi-Mi-, Mikuru Beam!”

“Louder!”

“Mikuru Beam!”

“Don’t be shy about it!”

“Hee… Mikuru Bea… m!”

“Shout from your belly!”

Is this some kind of comedy act?

Asahina was shouting until she was red, coerced into diaphragmatic breathing by Haruhi. The stares from the wandering kids and families around were painful. I wanted to tell them that this wasn’t a show for them to watch, but since we were shooting a movie, we were technically putting on a show. Maybe we could just film the making of scenes. I don’t know what a Haruhi-style happy story would be like, but we’ve got more than enough for a Mikuru Asahina promo.

Eventually, Asahina and Nagato were back standing on their respective cross marks, Koizumi was holding the reflector board in a touchdown signal, Haruhi was reclined next to him, and I had circled around two meters behind Nagato, garbed in black, to film Asahina over her shoulder. This camera angle was per Haruhi’s instructions.

An abrupt transformation soon followed.

“Okay, fire the beam now!”

---

---

In response to Haruhi’s shout, Asahina uncertainly struck a pose.

“Mi… Mikuru Beam!” she shouted adorably in a forced falsetto with an obvious look at the camera.

In that instant, the camera viewfinder suddenly went pitch dark.

“Ah?”

I couldn’t understand what had happened. I thought the camera had malfunctioned. I removed my eye from the finder to find an ominous-looking black pointy hat.

“…”

Nagato had her hand in a fist before my eyes. Nagato’s right hand had covered the lens and made it dark.

“Huh?” said Haruhi, whose mouth was wide open.

The cross mark Haruhi had drawn was two meters in front of me. Nagato had been standing there just a moment ago. When Haruhi had yelled action and Asahina had shouted, Nagato’s black silhouette had definitely shown up on camera. And not even a second later, Nagato was, for some reason, standing silently with one arm raised, gripping something in front of my face. The only explanation I had was that she warped.

“What?” Haruhi said. “Yuki, when did you get over there?”

Nagato didn’t respond, but instead kept her bead-like eyes on Asahina. As for Asahina, she had her eyes open wide in surprise. And then she slowly blinked—

Nagato’s hand once again moved at the speed of light. She made a grabbing motion in the air as though she were catching a mosquito. What happened to the star-tipped antenna she was supposed to carry?

Huh? I just heard a weird noise. Like a lit match falling into a ditch with running water. A sound like that.

“Huh…?”

The puzzled voice belonged to Asahina. She must not understand the situation. I don’t either. What’s Nagato trying to do?

Asahina, seeking salvation, turned to the side—and an unnatural sound came from where Koizumi was. A sound that could not be mistaken, like air escaping from a punctured tire…

The reflector board that had been raised above Koizumi’s head—just a cheap piece of Styrofoam covered by a sheet of thick white paper—had been severed at a diagonal angle. Koizumi, at a loss for words for once, stood stunned as he watched the top half of the reflector board slide off. But I didn’t have the time to enjoy such a rare sight.

Nagato moved. Nagato alone.

A dark shadow leapt from the ground and landed right in front of Asahina. Nagato’s right hand reached out from under her black mantle and grabbed Asahina’s face. Her slender fingers covered Asahina’s eyes, and her fingertips drove into Asahina’s temples.

“Ahh… Na-Na-Na-Nagato…”

Nagato paid no heed and threw the star waitress to the ground. Looking like the Grim Reaper riding on top of that ample bosom. Asahina screamed and grabbed Nagato’s slender arms, locked in an iron grip.

“Ah!”

I finally came to my senses. What was that? It looked like Nagato had teleported over to interfere with the filming, but then Koizumi’s reflector board split in half, and then the alien attacked the time traveler. When did Haruhi tell the two of them to act out this scene—or I guess that’s not possible. The director, along with Koizumi and me, was also at a loss. And the two of them didn’t look like they were acting.

“… Cut, cut!”

Haruhi stood up and whacked her chair with the megaphone.

“Hey, Yuki. What are you doing? That wasn’t part of the plan.”

Nagato remained silent, riding on the struggling Asahina, whose white thighs were half-exposed.

Upon hearing a soft murmur, I turned to find Koizumi staring at the severed edge of the reflector board with a grimace on his face. He then noticed my gaze and gave me a strange look. What’s that supposed to mean?

Or no, who cares about Koizumi’s meaningful looks. Right now, I have to do something about Nagato’s all-out martial arts antics. I ran, with camera in hand, toward the jumbled waitress and black-garbed mage.

“What are you doing? Hey, Nagato.”

The wide-brimmed hat slowly turned toward me. Nagato’s black-hole-like eyes looked up at me and her thin lips parted.

“…”

My expectations that she would say something were shot. Nagato silently shut her mouth with a look on her face suggesting that she couldn’t find the appropriate words for this situation, before gradually standing up from the mount position. With a jerk of her black-mantled right shoulder, her arm withdrew under her outfit.

“Hah… Hah…”

Asahina was lying on the ground faceup, trembling in fear. Well, yeah, of course she’s scared. If Nagato charged over with that emotionless look and threw me to the ground, I’d be shaking in my boots. Especially since in her current getup, she looks like some kind of dark wizard that you really wouldn’t want to bump into in the middle of the night. Might even make some fainthearted preschooler wet his pants.

“…”

Nagato, eyes covered by the oversize pointy hat, didn’t move an inch. She just stared at me.

I gently helped the sniffling Asahina stand up. The sight of those long eyelashes, bordering gorgeous eyes brimming with tears, only served to make her even more attractive… Huh?

“Man, what are the two of you doing? Please don’t do stuff that isn’t in the script.”

The director who hadn’t even written down the script walked over and went “Huh?” in a dubious voice, just as I had.

“Mikuru, what happened to the contact?”

“What…”

Asahina, clinging to my arms in tears, moved her finger below her left eye.

“Huh?”

The three of us could only stand around looking puzzled. In these situations, you’re supposed to consult the person who has a firm grasp on the situation.

“Nagato, do you know what happened to Asahina’s color contact?”

“Don’t know,” Nagato replied in a flat voice. Pretty sure she’s lying.

“Maybe it fell out during the tussle,” Haruhi guessed incorrectly and began searching the ground. “Kyon, you help look. That wasn’t cheap. It cost quite a bit.”

I joined the scampering Haruhi and got on all fours. Even though I told her it was useless. I had a feeling that I’d seen Nagato’s right hand holding something when she got off Asahina. And that hand had been attached to Asahina’s face when they were tangled together.

“Why can’t we find it anywhere?”

My apologies to the duck-billed Haruhi, but I wasn’t looking very hard. I turned to find Koizumi playing with the pieces of the reflector board, attaching and separating them. You pretend to look, too.

Koizumi smiled.

“It may have blown away in the wind. Since it’s light.”

He was saying irresponsible things as he displayed the remains of the reflector board.

Haruhi jumped up and took them from him. “What happened? It split in half? Hmm, it was cheap anyway. Well, can’t expect anything more from our photography club. Koizumi, tape it back together in the back.”

And with those careless remarks, she turned her crocodile-like gaze back to Asahina, who was spaced out after having finally stopped crying.

“We can’t continue filming without the color contact. What do we do?”

She appeared to be thinking. Eventually, she snapped her fingers as though a lightbulb had gone off in her head.

“That’s it. We’ll say that the eye color changes after she transforms.”

“T-transforms?” said Asahina.

“That’s right! It wouldn’t be very realistic if you were always wearing that costume. That costume will be what you’re wearing after you transform. You’ll usually be wearing a more normal outfit.”

There’s something wrong with people trying to make fiction too realistic, plus I think she just admitted that dressing up as a waitress wasn’t normal.

Asahina was rapidly nodding her head up and down. “I-is that really okay? I really want to wear normal clothes. Really.”

“Which is why Mikuru’s normal outfit will be a bunny girl!”

“Huh? Wh-wh-wh-why?”

“Because that’s the only one I brought. Your usual regular clothing would look too dull on the screen. Wait! I just came up with a backstory. Basically, Mikuru normally acts as a bunny girl attracting customers for the shopping district. When she senses danger, she immediately transforms! She turns into a combat waitress. Well, isn’t that perfect?”

Didn’t you just say something about being realistic?

“Then let’s get started.”

Haruhi smiled a dangerous smile that looked like a crescent moon as she pinned Asahina’s arms behind her back. “Ow, ow, ow,” cried the waitress as she was taken into the woods.

Hmm.

… Well, I guess that’s fine. I can only pray for Asahina, but it is very convenient for me if Haruhi runs off right now. Her sacrifice will not be wasted. And I can’t wait to see her in a bunny suit.

… And that worked out well since I had something to ask Nagato.

“So what was with the improvisation back there?”

Nagato impassively pressed down on the brim of the pointy hat, leaving most of her face covered by its shadow, and slowly extended her right hand. The outfit was just something on top of her uniform, so her right sleeve was that of a sailor uniform. She then flipped her right index finger so it was facing upward. A blue contact lenses was resting atop it.

So you snatched it after all.

“Here,” Nagato murmured. “Laser.”

And with that, she shut her mouth.

“…”

You know, it’s been on my mind for a while, but your explanations don’t even satisfy the bare-minimum requirements. You could at least try talking for ten seconds at a time.

Nagato stared at her own finger.

“Invisible coherent light possessing a high level of directivity.”

She spoke in an excruciatingly slow voice. I see. Invisible coherent light…

Sorry, I know even less now.

“Laser?” I said.

“Yes,” said Nagato.

“That’s quite a surprise,” chimed in Koizumi. He picked up the contact in his fingers and observed it through the light. “It looks like an ordinary contact lens.”

He sounds like he’s really impressed. I couldn’t figure out what to be surprised about, let alone be impressed.

“What’s this all mean?”

Koizumi chuckled.

“Could you show us your right palm? No, not you. Nagato.”

The black-garbed girl directed her gaze to me as though she were asking for permission, so I nodded. Upon confirmation, she unclenched the remaining three fingers and thumb on her hand, at which point I stopped breathing.

“…”

A gust of silence blew around the three of us. I shivered and finally understood. So that’s what it was.

Nagato’s plain right palm was riddled with a number of small, black burned holes. They looked like they were the product of stabbing by red-hot tongs. There were five of them.

“I didn’t have time to shield.”

Don’t act so unconcerned about it. It looks damn painful.

“Very powerful. Happened in an instant.”

“So the laser beam came from Asahina’s left eye?” asked Koizumi.

“Yes.”

Don’t just say yes. Same goes for you, Koizumi. There’s something that needs to be done before we figure out the situation.

“I will commence restoration shortly.”

True to her words, the holes in Nagato’s hand were swiftly covered by her original white skin, right before our eyes.

“What the hey?”

I could only groan.

“Was Asahina seriously firing beams from her eyes?”

“Not a particle projection cannon. Concentrated light.”

Big difference. A laser or maser or the Markalite FAHP all look the same to an amateur. Like I’m going to know the difference between an ion cannon and an antiproton cannon. Who cares how it works as long as it blows up monsters.

“The problem here would be that Asahina has been shooting off heat rays without any monsters around.”

“Not heat rays. Photon laser.”

Like I said, big difference. We don’t need scientific verification.

Nagato fell silent and closed her right hand. I covered my head with my arms while Koizumi flicked the contact.

“Was this an ability Asahina was previously capable of?”

“No,” Nagato replied instantly. “At the present, Mikuru Asahina is a normal human being. Her makeup is similar to that of ordinary people.”

“So there’s something special about this color contact?” Koizumi offered.

“No. It is a mere decoration.”

Thought so. After all, Haruhi was the one who brought it. Actually, that’s the biggest problem here. The fact that she, and nobody else, was the one who brought it.

There was something that needed to be emphasized. If Nagato hadn’t covered me, Asahina’s laser beam would have gone through the video camera lens, through my eyeball, burning up a number of things, before finally exiting the back of my skull. Pretty sure my brains would have been smoking. That’d be bad, yeah.

Still, it feels like Nagato’s always saving my life. Pretty embarrassing.

“Which means…”

Koizumi smiled grimly as he stroked his chin.

“This is Suzumiya’s doing, isn’t it? She wanted there to be a Mikuru Beam, and reality was altered to accommodate that. That’s how it appeared.”

“Yes.”

Nagato gave confirmation without a hint of emotion on her face. I wasn’t able to stay so calm.

“Hold on. There isn’t any magic or whatever in the contact, right? How can it fire killer rays just because Haruhi wished for it?”

“Suzumiya doesn’t need magic or unknown technology. If she believes something to exist, then it actually does.”

Don’t expect your bullshit reasoning to convince me.

“Haruhi didn’t seriously mean to shoot beams when she said that. That was just within the movie. Even she said that it was just a joke, didn’t she?”

“Indeed.”

Koizumi also nodded. Don’t just accept my objection. Now I can’t keep going.

“We are also aware that Suzumiya possesses common sense. However, it is also a fact that the common sense of this world does not apply to her. This incident is most likely the result of some kind of extraordinary phenomenon. That would be… Oh, they’ve come back. We shall continue this later.”

Koizumi casually slipped the contact into his shirt pocket.

What a pain.

Use wit and tact to save the world from destruction, beat the crap out of bad guys, no questions asked, hold limited ESP battles within a conveniently small world, and throw in some random human melodrama….

Fact of the matter is, I’d prefer it that way. If I have to be dragged into a world that sounds like it’s out of fiction, give me something that’s way out there. The more removed from reality, the better.

But look at me now. Talking to a certain classmate resulted in disaster, I’m surrounded by a bunch of people with backgrounds I completely don’t understand, and we’re doing stuff I can’t even begin to try to comprehend. Shooting beams from eyes? What’s with that? What’s the point of trying?

On second thought, not a single member of the mysterious trio of Asahina, Nagato, and Koizumi has actually proven their identity. All of them delivered their little introductions, but I’m still not crazy enough to buy their crap. Not even after being involved in all those incidents that might suggest otherwise. Everything has its standards, and I’ve got my own set of them. Though they’re starting to get out of whack.

According to these people, first off, Asahina was a time traveler from the future. She wouldn’t tell me what year she was from, but I knew why she was here. To observe Haruhi Suzumiya.

Nagato was an alien-made humanoid interface. Don’t start going, “What’s that?” That was my reaction too, so we’re even. As for why something like that is on Earth, it’s because Nagato’s superiors, the Data Overmind or whatever, apparently have an interest in Haruhi Suzumiya.

And then Koizumi was an esper dispatched from some mysterious organization known as the “Agency.” One of his missions was to transfer to this school, and his job was to monitor Haruhi Suzumiya.

As for Haruhi herself, surrounded by three people with such bizarre profiles, her identity is still the greatest mystery. According to Asahina, she was a “time warp.” Nagato said she was the “potential for evolution.” Koizumi went so far as to call her “God.”

Seriously, good work, everyone.

And while you’re at it, do something about Haruhi. Or the female brigade chief will remain a mystery and I’ll remain trapped in her neutron-star-level gravitational field. I can live with it for now, but, you know, try to picture how it’ll be ten years from now. What are we supposed to do if Haruhi’s still Haruhi? That’ll be pretty ugly. Illegally occupying club rooms, prowling the streets with the eyes of a predator, going berserk while causing a ruckus, and unstable mood swings can be forgiven when you’re still a teenager. Not the actions of a grown adult. She’d just be a social misfit. Do Asahina, Koizumi, and Nagato still intend to go along with Haruhi at that point?

As for me, I’ll apologize first. Sorry, I don’t have any intention of tagging along. Because time is unforgiving. Life doesn’t have reset buttons falling out of the sky, and you’re not going to find save points marked on the side of the road.

It doesn’t matter if Haruhi distorted time, caused an explosion of data, or created and destroyed worlds. I’m my own person. She’s her own person. I can’t go along with her childish game forever. Even if I wanted to, everybody has to go home eventually. And if you look a year or ten years into the future, that’s an undeniable fact.

“How long are you going to keep grumbling? Shouldn’t you already be used to being seen in this outfit?”

I could see Haruhi dragging Asahina away from the trees.

“Behave like an actress. Bravely shedding your clothes is the fast track to a blue-ribbon rookie award! Not that you’ll be shedding your clothes this time. Have to keep something in reserve.”

She looked like a hunting hound bringing in a rabbit. Haruhi returned with bunny-girl Asahina, wearing high heels that didn’t look very suitable for walking on the dirt. She had a smile so bright, I was expecting her to sneeze at any moment.

“Once this movie’s a success, I’ll use the proceeds to take everyone to a hot spring. Think of it as a vacation. Mikuru wants to go, right?”

Still… Well, whatever. I’ll follow this through to the end. I would have preferred to be involved in something like the story from your movie. It would have been perfect if I were in the Itsuki Koizumi character’s position, but it appears that I don’t have any hidden powers.

I’ll just behave and play your straight man.

In a few years, we’ll all be able to look back and go, “Yeah, we did some crazy stuff back then,” and laugh about all of this.

Probably.

Bunny-girl Asahina walked along, looking even more embarrassed than when she was a waitress. Haruhi was the only one who had a smug look on her face. What are you so happy about?

I pretended to fiddle with the focus on the video camera as I zoomed in on Asahina’s cleavage. You know, I have to check that thing.

A small mole rested on her white, left mound. Upon closer inspection, it was shaped like a star. Confirmation complete. This person’s definitely my Asahina. Not a fake.

“What are you doing?”

Haruhi’s face popped up in front of the lens.

“You’re not allowed to shoot anything I didn’t order. We’re not filming your home videos.”

I know. Notice how I haven’t pressed the record button. I was just looking.

“Okay, everybody, gather around! And get ready! We’ll be shooting Mikuru’s daily life now. Mikuru, you just walk around naturally. And the camera will follow.”

“What kind of girl shows up at a forest park in a bunny-girl outfit on a daily basis?”

“Who cares about that? It’s considered normal in the movie. Trying to apply realistic standards to fiction is just weird.”

I’d like to return that line straight back at you. Except that in your case, you’re applying fictional standards to reality so it’s the other way around.

Afterward, Asahina, unaware that she could fire killer beams from her eyes, plucked flowers from the park, gathered dead leaves and blew them into the air, and danced and hopped around on the grass per Haruhi’s instructions, growing more and more exhausted in the process.

And then Haruhi dealt the final blow.

“Hmm. Doesn’t feel right with mountains in the background. I suppose a bunny girl wouldn’t be walking around the mountains. Let’s head into town!”

With that complete reversal of what she’d been saying just a moment prior, we found ourselves on the bus and on the move again.

The leading actor, Koizumi, who at this point had been on lighting duty the whole time, was holding on to the strap with the taped-up reflector board and other items I had forced on him tucked under his arm.

I was standing next to him, and Nagato stood next to me, like a dark shadow. Only Haruhi and Asahina were sitting in the empty seats. Haruhi had taken the camera from me and sat right next to Asahina, filming her from the side.

Asahina had her head down as she answered Haruhi’s questions in a subdued voice. It looked like the director was conducting an interview of the lead actress.

The bus traveled down the winding mountain road toward the residential area. I prayed earnestly inside my heart that the driver wasn’t constantly looking in the rearview mirror. Please drive with your eyes looking forward.

Perhaps my prayers were heard, since our bus safely reached the station, our destination. By this point, the bus was filled with passengers who were all staring at Haruhi, Asahina, and Nagato. The sight of those bouncy bunny ears and her exposed creamy shoulders and back was devastating. It felt like the bunny version of Asahina would be the talk of not only North High, but the entire city.

That might be Haruhi’s aim. “There was a pretty bunny girl on the bus yesterday.” “Yeah, I saw her too.” “What’s that you say?” “I think she belongs to North High’s SOS Brigade.” “SOS Brigade?” “Yes, the SOS Brigade.” “The SOS Brigade, huh? I’ll remember that.” That’s probably how she expects it to go. Asahina isn’t the SOS Brigade’s billboard. So what is she? you might ask. Obviously, she serves as the tea girl and my spiritual balm. I’m sure that’s what Asahina wants. Definitely.

Of course, trying to tell Haruhi what you want is like trying to talk to a wall. Thanks to Haruhi’s miraculous mechanism that repels anything inconvenient anyone else might have to say away from her eardrums. It might be osmotic pressure. If I figure out how it works, the Nobel Prize committee might at least consider me a nominee in the Physiology category. Anybody want to give it a shot? (The trick is to just casually throw it out there.)

That day, Asahina was stuck as a bunny girl until the sun set. As for what she did, well, she just walked around in that outfit. This wasn’t much different from the usual magical mystery patrol, except that the extra attention just made it all the more tiring and I was constantly worrying if someone might call the cops. Haruhi had no concept of what “approval to film” was, so she was free to shoot wherever she wanted. Her sense of freedom was about as dignified as papal authority during the age of Innocent III—I would say. Her definition of “freedom” was mistaken.

“That’s enough for today.”

Haruhi finally had a look on her face signaling that our work was done, and the rest of us, except for Nagato, breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long day. Tomorrow’s Sunday and I want a long, hard rest.

“Okay, see everybody tomorrow then. Meet up at the same time and place as today,” she said as though it were no big deal. We’ll be receiving compensatory time, right?

“What’s that? You realize that we’re behind in filming? There isn’t time for people to be relaxing! You can rest all you want once the cultural festival is over. Until we’re finished, assume that red-letter days don’t exist on the calendar!”

We’re already behind schedule after two days of filming. Can you work on your time-management skills? Behind? Does that mean the hours of footage I shot today aren’t going to be used? Or does Haruhi intend to make a Taiga drama? We’re not making a daily broadcast show here. Just a one-shot amateur movie to screen at a cultural festival.

In any case, Haruhi didn’t look like she was worried about a single thing. She shoved all the equipment on me and, carrying only her armband and cell phone, turned with a top-class smile on her face.

“See you all tomorrow then! We’re definitely going to make this movie a success. No, with my directorial vision, the movie is already guaranteed to be a success. The rest depends on how hard you people work. Make sure you show up on time. If anyone doesn’t show up, there will be lynching and heads will roll!”

And with that proclamation, she walked off humming Marilyn Manson’s “Rock Is Dead.”

“I’ll let Asahina know,” Koizumi whispered in my ear before he left. Asahina had Koizumi’s blazer draped over her head. If it were winter, I’d have brought a coat, but unfortunately the weather had been stuck in a late-summer pattern. I directed an irritated glare at the pile of items next to my feet.

“Let her know what?”

“About the laser we were discussing. There shouldn’t be any odd rays being fired if her eye doesn’t change color. That’s how it works according to Suzumiya’s rules, so we should be okay if she doesn’t put on any color contacts.”

The reflector-board-carrying leading bastard flashed me what looked like one of those insurance-salesman smiles.

“Let us err on the side of caution and prepare a safety net. I’m sure she will be willing to cooperate. After all, beams are dangerous.”

Koizumi walked over to the black-garbed figure that looked something like a human crow, Nagato.

As I returned home carrying my huge load of crap, my sister came out to greet me, looking at me like I was some kind of weird animal. The grade-schooler who had been responsible for the nickname “Kyon” spreading all over started spouting stuff like “Is that a video camera? Yay, film me, film me!” and other nonsense, but I just said “Moron” and went to my room.

In any case, I was completely exhausted. Any desire to engage in any further unbecoming cameraman activities had long evaporated. Asahina was one thing, but why should I have to engage in something as sad as recording footage of my own little sister? No fun in that.

I set down my bag along with the backpack and paper bags before collapsing on my bed, attaining a brief moment’s respite before my mother sent my sister up to elbow-smash me awake for dinner.