CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 1
The next morning I was awoken by the usual combination of my sister ripping off my bedcovers while the calico wormed into my blanket. My little sister, the assassin who dutifully carries out our mother’s command every morning.
“Mom said that you should eat breakfast.”
My sister smiled cheerfully as she lifted the stretching cat off of my bed and rubbed her nose against the back of its ears.
“Shami’s breakfast is also ready.”
Shamisen, left in our care after the cultural festival, yawned sleepily as he licked his front paw. The male calico who could formerly talk had lost his voice and established himself as a beloved pet in our household. His transformation into a perfectly ordinary cat made me wonder if I had been hallucinating when I heard him speak in human. He may have also forgotten how to speak in cat, since he barely ever made a sound, which was fine by me. For some unknown reason, Shamisen was sleeping in my room, allowing me to be rudely awoken by the frequent visits from my little sister to play with him.
“Shami, Shami. Time to eat.”
My sister sang out of tune as she struggled to carry the cat out of the room. I was getting goose bumps from the frigid morning air as I looked blankly at the time on the clock, but I eventually shook off the desire to linger in my warm bed, and sat up.
Once I finished changing and washed my face, I headed downstairs to the dining room, gobbled down breakfast in five minutes, and exited through the door two steps in front of my sister. It was another bitterly cold day.
Everything had been normal up until this point.
I was climbing up the hill as always when I spotted the back of a familiar-looking head. The figure walking ten meters or so ahead of me was definitely Taniguchi. He normally seemed so energetic as he practically bounced up the hill, but he was unusually slow today. I caught up to him in no time.
“Yo, Taniguchi.”
I figured that I should also get to slap him on the shoulder on occasion, so I did just that.
“… Meh. Kyon, huh?”
Taniguchi’s voice was muffled, which was to be expected, since he was wearing a white flu mask.
“What’s wrong? Did you catch a cold?”
“Ah…?” Taniguchi replied sluggishly. “As you can see, I have a cold. I wanted to stay home today, but my dad was being a pain.”
You were perfectly fine yesterday. This cold came out of the blue.
“What are you talking about? I was feeling pretty crappy yesterday. Cough.”
I was completely thrown off by the peculiar sight of a subdued Taniguchi as he coughed up a lung. But wait, he was already feeling sick yesterday? I recalled him being his usual conceited self.
“Hmm… really? It sure didn’t seem that way to me.”
I smirked maliciously at Taniguchi as he cocked his head.
“You sounded so happy as you went on about your plans for Christmas Eve. Well, you’d better recover in time for your date. Opportunities like this one are probably hard to come by.”
However, Taniguchi merely cocked his head a little further.
“A date? What are you talking about? I don’t have any plans for Christmas Eve.” Taniguchi coughed.
And what are you talking about? What happened to your little girlfriend from Kouyouen? Did you get dumped last night?
“Hey, Kyon. Seriously, what are you on? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Taniguchi shut his mouth peevishly and returned his head to a forward direction. I guess he’s been hit really hard by the cold symptoms, since he doesn’t seem to be faking his infirmity. And judging from his reaction, I probably guessed right when I suggested that his date had fallen apart. No wonder he’s all worn out. It must hurt to look at my face after all the bragging he did. I see how it is.
“Don’t get too down on yourself.”
I patted Taniguchi on the back.
“You up for the hot-pot spectacular? It isn’t too late to join in.”
“What hot pot? Where is this alleged event going to be held? I haven’t heard anything about it…”
Oh, really. I can see that the shock means he won’t be hearing anything I say for the time being. I’ll just back off in that case. Everything will be solved in the course of boundless and perpetual time. I won’t say another word about it.
I joined the plodding Taniguchi in climbing slowly up the hill.
It would have been impossible to notice at this point.
I was surprised to find that the cold had spread through class 1-5 while I wasn’t paying attention. I barely made it inside the classroom before the bell rang, yet there were plenty of empty seats, and a fifth of the present students were sporting flu masks. I’m guessing that incubation periods had been synchronized to the point where symptoms showed up for everyone at the same time.
But the real surprise came when first period began and the seat directly behind me was still empty.
“Well, how about that?”
Even Haruhi’s sick? Do we have a really nasty cold going around this year? I find it hard to believe that there are pathogens brave enough to invade her body or that Haruhi would lose to bacteria or viruses. I’d be more inclined to believe that she was busy at work on some new crackpot scheme she’d hatched up. Does she have something besides the hot pot in mind?
In any case, the frigid air in the classroom wasn’t because of a lack of heating. I didn’t expect there to be a sudden epidemic of absent classmates. It almost felt as though there’d been a drop in the population of class 1-5.
The absence of Haruhi breathing down my neck may have been a factor, but the classroom somehow felt like a different place.
And after rambling through class, it was time for lunch.
I pulled the cold lunch box out of my bag, and Kunikida walked over with lunch in hand to sit down in the seat behind me.
“Doesn’t look like she’s here today. It’s okay for me to sit here, right?” he said as he unwrapped the napkin around his Tupperware. I’ve grown half-accustomed to eating lunch with this guy after ending up in the same class for high school. I looked around for our other lunch buddy, Taniguchi, to find that he wasn’t in the classroom. I guess he went to the cafeteria or something.
I turned my chair to the side.
“Looks like a cold epidemic came out of nowhere. Hope I don’t catch it.”
“Hmm?”
Kunikida turned to me with a quizzical look on his face as he methodically set the container on the spread-out napkin and scrutinized its contents. He was snapping his chopsticks together like crab pincers.
“There were signs that a cold was going around a week ago. It doesn’t seem to be influenza, though it might have been better that way. Since there’s a vaccine now.”
“A week ago?” I asked as I stopped in the middle of tearing into my spinach omelet.
I don’t believe that there was anybody doing anything a week ago that would have spread germs. I’m pretty sure that nobody was absent, and I can’t recall anybody coughing during class. So a disease had been spreading out of my sight, despite the fact that every student in 1-5 looked perfectly healthy?
“Huh? There were quite a few people absent. You didn’t notice, Kyon?”
I had no idea. Is that true?
“Uh-huh, it sure is. It only got worse this week. I hope they don’t quarantine the entire freshman class. That would probably cut into our winter vacation,” Kunikida said as he carried some seasoned rice to his mouth. “Taniguchi’s been looking sluggish the past few days. His dad believes that you can cure a cold by using sheer willpower, so Taniguchi isn’t allowed to stay home unless his temperature’s over 104 degrees. I’m pretty sure he needs to do something before it gets worse.”
I stopped my chopsticks in midair.
“Kunikida. Sorry, but I thought that Taniguchi only started looking sick today.”
“Huh, no way. He’s been like that since the beginning of the week. He sat out gym class yesterday.”
I’m getting confused now.
Wait, Kunikida. What are you talking about? As far as I can remember, Taniguchi was going wild enough in the soccer match during yesterday’s gym class to make you wonder if he was on steroids. I know because I was on the other team, trying to slide tackle him. Not because I was jealous of his getting a girlfriend or anything, but I probably would have held back if I had known he would be so sick today.
“Really. Huh? That’s funny.”
Kunikida cocked his head as he picked out the carrots in his burdock root stir-fry.
“Maybe I was mistaken,” he said.
He sounded pretty laid-back.
“Mmm, we’ll know once we ask Taniguchi later.”
What’s going on today? Taniguchi and Kunikida aren’t making much sense, and Haruhi’s absent. This had better not be an omen of some disaster that inconveniences every human being who isn’t Haruhi. My nonexistent sixth sense was sounding an alarm as I felt a chill creep up the back of my neck.
Bingo.
My intuition wasn’t too shabby. This was, in fact, an omen of things to come. But my intuition was unable to determine who would be inconvenienced. Every human being who isn’t Haruhi… was the wrong answer. Oddly enough, there was only one person who would notice this situation and find it disturbing. The rest of the world wouldn’t be inconvenienced in any way. Because they were completely oblivious to what was going on. They’re not going to pick up on something they can’t pick up on. As far as they’re concerned, the world hasn’t changed one bit.
So who was the person inconvenienced by this turn of events?
That goes without saying.
Me.
I was the only one left dumbfounded amid these bewildering circumstances while the rest of the world moved on without me.
Yes, I finally realized what was going on.
It was lunchtime on December eighteenth.
The physical manifestation of my bad omen opened the door to the classroom.
A cheer came from the girls near the door at the front of the classroom. It came in response to the entrance of a classmate. I peeked through the crowd of sailor uniforms to see that person arrive in grand fashion.
With book bag in hand, that person smiled at the approaching flock of friends.
“Yes, I’m fine now. I went to the hospital this morning to get a shot, and I feel much better. I thought I might come in for the afternoon classes.”
That came in response to the person inquiring about recovering from a cold and was delivered with a gentle smile. After a quick joke that person, with medium-length hair swaying… slowly… walked… toward… us.
“Oh, I should move.”
Kunikida stood up with his chopsticks clamped in his mouth. Meanwhile, I was staring at that person as though my vocal cords had been robbed of their ability to speak. Actually, I had completely forgotten to breathe. It felt as if an eternity had passed, despite the fact that only a few steps had been taken. Eventually, that person came to a halt right next to me.
“What’s wrong?”
The question was accompanied by a puzzled expression and followed by a cliché.
“You look like you just saw a ghost. Or is there something on my face?”
Kunikida, packing up his lunch, was the next target.
“Oh, I’m just going to set my bag down here. Go ahead and eat. I had lunch before I came to school. You can borrow my seat for now.”
And true to her word, the female student hooked her bag on the side of the desk before turning back to the ring of waiting friends.
“Wait.”
My voice cracked a bit.
“Why are you here?”
That person turned around and gave me a frosty, penetrating look.
“What do you mean? Is there something odd about my being here? Or are you trying to imply that I should have been sick longer? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That’s not it. I don’t care about your cold. I’m talking about—”
“Kyon.”
Kunikida was poking at my shoulder with a worried look on his face.
“You’re acting really weird. You haven’t been making any sense at all, really.”
“Kunikida, you don’t have a problem with seeing her here?”
I couldn’t take this any longer, so I stood up and pointed my finger at that person, who was staring at me with a baffled look.
“Don’t you know who this is? It’s someone who isn’t supposed to be here!”
“… Kyon, it’s not very polite to forget the face of a classmate when she’s only been absent for a few days. Isn’t supposed to be here? She’s been in our class the whole time.”
I could never forget her. It’d take a lot longer than half a year to forget the face of this wannabe murderer who tried to kill me.
“I know.”
That person smiled as though she had just come up with a hilarious joke.
“You were probably nodding off as you ate your lunch. Did you have a nightmare or something? That must be it. Isn’t it time for you to wake up?”
A smile spread across her comely face as that person turned to Kunikida for support. I was focused on the images that had been burned into my brain.
They were flashing through my mind. A classroom in sunset hues—shadows extending across the floor—a windowless wall—distorted space—the swing of a knife—that unnerving smile—crystal grains, crumbling like sand…
Our former class representative who, after being annihilated in the battle with Nagato, was said to have transferred to Canada.
Ryoko Asakura stood before me.
“You’ll feel a lot better after you wash your face. Do you have a handkerchief on you? I can lend you mine.”
I grabbed Asakura’s arm as she reached into her skirt pocket. She might pull out something that isn’t her handkerchief.
“No thanks. Anyway, explain what’s going on. Every little detail. I especially want to know why you set your bag down on Haruhi’s desk. That isn’t your seat. It’s Haruhi’s.”
“Haruhi?”
Asakura frowned as she turned to Kunikida.
“Who’s this Haruhi? Was there somebody who went by that name?”
Kunikida’s response was yet another reason to despair.
“Never heard that name before. Haruhi, is it? How is that spelled?”
“Haruhi is Haruhi,” I grumbled as I was hit by a spell of dizziness.
“You people forgot about Haruhi Suzumiya? How could you possibly forget about someone like that…?”
“Haruhi Suzumiya… Uh-huh, Kyon.”
Kunikida spoke slowly in a consoling tone.
“There’s no such person in this class. Besides, this has been Asakura’s desk since the last time we changed seats. Did you confuse our class with a different one? But I don’t recall ever hearing the name Suzumiya before. Can’t be a freshman…”
“The name doesn’t ring a bell for me either.”
Asakura seemed to agree that I needed to get my head looked at as she continued in a gentle, purring voice.
“Kunikida-kun, could you look inside my desk real quick? The student directory should be near the end.”
I snatched the small notebook from Kunikida as he pulled it out. I immediately opened it to class 1-5’s page. I traced my finger down the list of names for the girls.
Saeki, Sakanaka, Suno, Suzuki…
There wasn’t a name between Suno and Suzuki. Haruhi Suzumiya’s name had vanished from the student directory. It was as if the pages were asking “Who are you looking for? There’s no such person” as I shut the directory and closed my eyes.
“… Kunikida. I have a favor to ask.”
“What is it?”
“Pinch my cheek. I need to wake up.”
“You sure?”
He pinched as hard as he could. It hurt. And it didn’t wake me up. I opened my eyes to find that Asakura was still standing before me with her lips pursed in a semicircle.
Something’s going on here.
I suddenly noticed that we had the entire class’s attention. Their eyes were all focused on me as though I were an old stray with canine distemper. Damn, why? I haven’t said anything wrong.
“Son of a bitch.”
I asked the people nearby the following two questions.
Where is Haruhi Suzumiya?
Didn’t Ryoko Asakura transfer out?
Their responses were no help. Like they were all in on this together.
“Don’t know.”
“Nope.”
I was starting to feel nausea in addition to the dizziness. I was struck by a jarring disconnect from reality that forced me to put my hand on a nearby desk for support. It felt like a part of my soul had been shattered.
Asakura laid her hand on my arm and leaned in with a worried look on her face. The sweet fragrance from her hair was numbing me.
“You should probably go to the nurse’s office. Strange things can happen when you’re sick. That must be it. I believe that you’re coming down with a cold.”
No!
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I wasn’t acting strange. This situation was strange.
I brushed Asakura’s hand away as I headed for the classroom door. The vague disconcerting sensation had seeped through my skin and into my head. The sudden cold outbreak, the disparity in my conversation with Taniguchi, the absence of Haruhi’s name in the student directory, the appearance of Asakura… huh? Haruhi’s gone? Nobody remembers her? How is that possible? Doesn’t the world revolve around her? Isn’t she the focus of everybody in the universe?
I mentally yelled at my legs as they tripped over each other, leaving me to practically crawl out of the classroom.
Nagato’s face was the first thing to pop into my mind. She would be able to explain this situation. The reticent, omnipotent alien android, Yuki Nagato, was always able to provide a solution. I’d be willing to say that Nagato was the only reason I was alive today.
Nagato would know.
She would be able to save me from this predicament.
Nagato’s class was nearby. It took only a few seconds to reach without my even having to run. My mind was still a jumble as I opened the door and searched for her small and short-haired figure.
She wasn’t there.
However, it was too early to despair. She usually spent lunch in the clubroom reading. It’d be hasty to conclude that Nagato had also disappeared just because she wasn’t in the classroom.
Koizumi was the next thing to pop into my mind. The literary club room in the old shack was pretty far away. The second-year classroom where I would find Asahina was also in a different building. It would be faster to go down a floor to 1-9. Itsuki Koizumi, you better be there. I’ve never been so desperate to see Koizumi’s grinning face.
I jogged through the hallway and skipped down the stairs, three at a time, as I made my way to the corner of the building where 1-9 was, praying the entire time for the esper freak to be there.
I passed 1-7’s classroom and 1-8’s classroom to find myself in front of 1-9’s…
“… What the hell is this?”
I finally came to a halt as I turned to look at the nameplates on the wall again. To the left of class 1-8 was class 1-7. And to the right of 1-8 was—
A landing that led to the emergency stairwell.
Gone. Without a trace.
“This is too much, man…”
Forget Koizumi.
Class 1-9 no longer existed.
Wits’ end, seriously.
Who would imagine that a classroom could disappear in the span of a day? This was nothing like a missing person. Every member of the class was gone. The school building had shrunk. You couldn’t manage that in one night, even with a rush job. Where did the members of 1-9 go?
I was so shocked that I had lost track of time. I have no idea how long I stood there, but a jab to my spine brought me back as I listened in a daze to the voice of a biology teacher who reminded me of the Marshmallow Man.
“What are you doing? Class already started. Return to your classroom.”
Guess I was so out of it that I didn’t even hear the bell. Nobody else was in the hallway as the teacher’s voice rang out from the 1-7 classroom.
I slowly began to move. No more time for confirming the omen. It had already happened. A person was here who shouldn’t be. People who should be here weren’t. Swapping Asakura for Haruhi, Koizumi, and everybody else in class 1-9 couldn’t be considered a fair trade.
“What the heck?”
If I hadn’t gone crazy, the world had.
Who was responsible?
Was it you, Haruhi?
As a result, I wasn’t listening to a single word during my afternoon classes. Every voice and sound passed right through my ears without leaving any data in my brain cells. The next thing I knew homeroom was over, and so was class for the day.
I was frightened. Not by Asakura, scribbling away with a mechanical pencil in the seat behind mine, but by the fact that Haruhi and Koizumi weren’t at school. I was too scared to even ask other people for confirmation. Every time I heard the words “Don’t recognize that name,” I found myself sinking deeper into a bottomless swamp. I couldn’t muster the energy to lift myself from my chair.
Taniguchi immediately left the classroom with Kunikida, who was probably worried about me, while Asakura walked out with a group of laughing girls. She turned to me as she went out the door with a look of genuine concern for a classmate who wasn’t well. That only made my head hurt more. This was wrong. Everything was wrong.
I finally grabbed my bag and stepped into the hallway as I followed the people on cleaning duty out of the classroom.
Either way, this wasn’t where I should be after school.
I trudged down the stairs in low spirits and when I reached the first floor, I spotted a glimmer of hope and took off running.
Nothing could have made me happier. My goddess/eye-balm was walking toward me. Even better, the baby-faced and well-endowed beauty was accompanied by Tsuruya. I was overwhelmed with joy.
—I’m pretty sure that I should have been a little more careful.
I raced over to the two upperclassmen at an incredible speed and grabbed the wide-eyed Asahina by her shoulders.
“Wah!”
I saw the surprise on her face, but my mouth had a mind of its own.
“Haruhi’s gone! Koizumi’s been Drifting Classroomed! I haven’t checked on Nagato yet, but Asakura’s here and the entire school is weird. You are my Asahina, right?”
Slip, slam. That was the sound of Asahina’s bag and calligraphy set hitting the floor.
“What? Ah, um. Wait. Er. Huh…”
“I mean, you’re the Asahina from the future, right?”
Then came Asahina’s response.
“… Future? What do you mean? Could you please let me… go?”
I could feel my stomach turn as Asahina looked at me the way a domesticated impala would look at a wild jaguar. She was clearly frightened. The last sight I ever wanted to see.
As I stood dumbfounded, my arm was twisted upward. I heard some disturbing sounds from my joints. That hurts.
“Hold on a minute, young man!”
Tsuruya was using some kind of ancient martial arts technique on my arm.
“You gotta take it slower. Look, our Mikuru’s all scared now.”
Her tone was light, but her eyes were like daggers. On a closer look, Asahina was certainly backing away with teary eyes.
“Are you a freshman in the Mikuru Fan Club? Everything has a certain procedure to follow. You shouldn’t rush things.”
That would be the umpteenth chill down my spine today. My arm was still locked by hers.
“Uh, Tsuruya…?”
Tsuruya stared at me as if I were a complete stranger.
Et tu, Tsuruya?
“Hmm? You know me? And who are you anyway? An acquaintance of Mikuru’s?”
I refused to believe my eyes. Asahina hiding behind Tsuruya and staring at me openly while shaking her head.
“I—I don’t know him. Um. He must have me mixed up with someone else…”
The year was almost over, but that reaction almost made me pass out, as it basically guaranteed that this year would be a bad one. I can put up with pretty much anything that anyone might say to me, but hearing those words from Asahina was the biggest shock I’d received since the cousin I had a crush on as a kid eloped.
I wasn’t mixing up this Asahina with some other person named Asahina. It’d be a different story if this actually were some other Asahina… oh, yeah. There’s a way to determine if this is actually the Asahina I know.
“Asahina.”
I used the arm that was still free to point to my chest. I must have been really upset considering what I said next.
“There should be a star-shaped mole on your breast around here. There is, right? Would it be possible for you to show me—”
I was socked in the face.
By Asahina. By Asahina’s fist.
My words had left Asahina stupefied: her face gradually turned red, and tears began to well up in her eyes before she clumsily delivered a smack straight to my face.
And with that, she ran off in tears.
“Ah, Mikuru. She’s so hopeless. Hey, young man. No more of that funny business. Mikuru’s really shy! If you try something again, I’m gonna lay the smack down.”
After one last painful squeeze to my wrist, Tsuruya picked up the bag and calligraphy set from the floor and ran after Asahina.
“Hold on, Mikuru—!”
“…”
I could only stare in a daze as a gust of cold wind blew through my mind.
It’s all over.
Will I live to see the sun rise tomorrow? I’m pretty sure that once word spreads around school that I made Asahina cry, I’ll be jumped by more guys than I can count. I’d do the same if I were in their shoes. I should probably come up with some last words to say.
I was finally out of ideas. I called Haruhi’s cell phone and got a “number not in use” message from the operator. I couldn’t remember her home phone number, which had been erased from the student directory, along with Haruhi’s name. I considered going to her house, but then I remembered that I’ve never been there. Not very fair when you consider that Haruhi’s been to my place, but it’s too late now.
The missing class 1-9 aside, I went to the faculty office to ask about where Koizumi and Haruhi might be. A miserable experience. There was no student named Haruhi Suzumiya in any class. And there hadn’t been a transfer student named Itsuki Koizumi.
There was nothing I could do.
Where would I find a lead? Was this Haruhi’s attempt at an elaborate game of hide-and-seek? I have to figure out where she’s disappeared to. But why would she do that?
I continued to think as I walked. Asahina’s blow may have helped, as I’d managed to cool my head down. No point in going crazy right now. This is when you have to stay calm. Calm.
“Please be there,” I muttered as I headed toward the only destination left. The last bastion. The final line of defense. If it’s fallen, this tale is over. Pulled off the air.
The literary club room in the clubhouse, also known as the old shack.
If Nagato isn’t there, I’m completely out of options.
Which is why I was walking slowly and taking my time as I headed to the clubroom. A few minutes later I found myself before the old wooden door with my hand on my chest to check my pulse. My heart was certainly beating at an abnormal rate, but this was a significant improvement over the nervous wreck I had been during lunch. My senses may have grown numb after the chain of bizarre happenings. I’m getting desperate. I’ll have to march on blindly while anticipating the worst possible outcome.
I skipped the knocking and threw the door open.
“…!”
And there I saw…
A small figure sitting in a metal chair at the corner of the long table with a book opened before her.
Yuki Nagato, staring at me through the lenses of her glasses, with her mouth open in surprise.
“You’re here…”
I sighed in relief as I shut the door behind me. Nagato was silent as always, but I was unable to celebrate. I was well aware of the fact that Nagato had stopped wearing glasses after the incident with Asakura. However, the Nagato in front of me was wearing the same glasses as before. Which reminded me of how much better Nagato looked without glasses. At least, by my standards.
Besides, that expression didn’t look right on her face. That would be the look of a girl in the literary club who had just been surprised by a strange guy barging in. Why are you surprised? Wouldn’t that be the last emotion to expect from your character?
“Nagato.”
I’d learned my lesson from what happened with Asahina, so I suppressed the urge to charge over as I slowly approached the table.
“Yes?” Nagato responded without making a move.
“Answer this for me. Do you know who I am?”
Nagato pursed her lips, pushed the bridge of her glasses up, and remained silent.
I was about ready to give up and search for a monastery to join.
“I do.”
Nagato was staring at a spot in the vicinity of my chest as she responded. There was hope. This Nagato might be the one I know.
“I actually know a fair deal about you. Do you mind if I talk for a bit?”
“…”
“You actually aren’t a human but an alien-made organic android. You can freely use magic-like powers. Such as by making a bat that only hits home runs or infiltrating cave cricket space…”
I was already regretting those words as I spoke them. Nagato clearly had an odd look on her face. Her mouth was wide open, as were her eyes, which darted between my shoulders. Nagato’s demeanor indicated that she was afraid to look me in the face.
“… That would sum up what I know about you. Was I wrong?”
“I’m sorry.”
Nagato’s response made me question if my ears were functioning properly. Why an apology? Why would Nagato ever say such a thing?
“I wouldn’t know. I only know that you’re from class 1-5. Because I see you from time to time. But I don’t know anything else about you. This would be the first time I’ve ever talked to you in this place.”
My last bastion collapsed like a tall building built on brittle, weathered sand.
“… Which means you aren’t an alien? Do you remember anything about the name Haruhi Suzumiya?”
The word “alien” drew a puzzled tilt of the head from Nagato.
“No,” came her response.
“Wait.”
Who am I supposed to rely on if Nagato’s no good? I’m like a newly born swallow who’s been abandoned by its parents. I need her help to stay sane. The way things are going now, I’m gonna snap.
“That’s impossible.”
No good. I’m about to lose my cool again. My mind was a chaotic mess, with red, yellow, and blue shooting stars flying every which way. I circled around to Nagato’s side of the table.
Her pale fingers shut the book. That thick hardcover. I didn’t have time to catch the title. Nagato stood up from her chair and backed a step away from me. Her eyes, like two polished black Go stones, were quivering hesitantly.
I put my hand on Nagato’s shoulder. I was no longer composed enough to recall my prior blunder with Asahina. I was completely focused on preventing her from escaping. If I didn’t grab hold of her now, I feared I would find that every person I had ever known had slipped through my fingers. I didn’t want to lose any more people.
I could feel the warmth of her body through her uniform as I spoke to the short-haired girl who was trying to turn away from me.
“Remember. The world changed between yesterday and today. Asakura’s here instead of Haruhi. Who was responsible for the substitution in personnel? The Data Overmind? You have to know something if Asakura’s back. Isn’t Asakura one of your brethren? What’s the big idea? You should be able to give me an explanation, even if I can’t understand it—”
As you always have, I was about to say, but instead I found myself feeling like I had swallowed liquid lead and it was spreading through my stomach.
Why is she reacting like an ordinary human being?
From the side I could see that Nagato’s eyes were shut tight and her pale, porcelain-like cheeks were flushed. Short, staccato pants escaped from her parted lips, and I realized that the slender shoulder I was grabbing was quivering like a freezing little puppy. A trembling voice reached my ears.
“Stop…”
That woke me up. At some point Nagato’s back had been pinned against the wall. Which means I had unconsciously cornered her. What am I doing? I’m practically assaulting her. If there were any witnesses, I’d immediately find myself with my hands cuffed behind my back and receiving my punishment from society. A sick idiot who attacked a timid female literary club member while she was alone in the clubroom. That would be me, from an objective perspective.
“Sorry about that.”
“I didn’t mean to attack you. I just wanted to check something…”
My legs were about to give out on me. I reached for a nearby metal chair and plopped down like a mollusk. Nagato was still glued to the wall. I suppose I was lucky that she didn’t race out of the room.
I looked around the clubroom again and instantly realized that this wasn’t the SOS Brigade’s secret base. This room only had bookshelves, a few metal chairs, a long folding table, and an old desktop computer that sat on top of said table. It wasn’t the cutting-edge machine Haruhi had swindled from the computer society. This one was at least three generations older. It was like comparing a carriage with a high-speed rail.
Naturally, there wasn’t a brigade chief pyramid or a brigade chief desk for it to sit upon. No fridge and no garment rack with multiple costumes. None of the board games Koizumi had brought in, no maid, and no Santa’s granddaughter. Nothing at all.
“Damn it.”
I buried my head in my arms. Game over. If this was somebody’s idea of a psychological attack, they’d certainly succeeded. A job well done. So, who was behind this experiment? Was it Haruhi, the Data Overmind, or a new enemy of this world…?
Five minutes or so passed. I pretended to pull myself together as I nervously lifted my head.
Nagato was still glued to the wall as she stared at me with her ebony eyes. Her glasses were a little crooked. Though I should probably have thanked the heavens that she no longer looked at me with fear. That face was what you would expect from someone who had just run into her long-dead brother on the street. At least she wouldn’t be calling the cops on me. A small source of relief in this panic.
I was about to ask her to sit down, when I realized that I had stolen Nagato’s seat. I’ll let her have this chair. Or should I pull out another one for her? Wait, she might not want to sit down next to me.
“Sorry.”
I apologized again as I stood up. I grabbed a folded-up metal chair and moved to the center of the room. After confirming that I was a sufficient distance from Nagato, I sat down in the chair and buried my head in my arms again.
This was just an insignificant literary club. The same room I’d seen on that May day when an industrial-robot-like Haruhi dragged me there for my first encounter with Nagato. At the time the room only had a table, chairs, bookshelves, and Nagato. The rest of the crap came later. After Haruhi’s “This is now our clubroom!” proclamation. Like the portable stove, kettle, pot, fridge, computer…
“Hmm?”
I loosened my grip on my head.
Wait, what was in the room again?
Garment rack, hot water dispenser, teapot, teacups, utensils, an old tape deck…
“No.”
I needed to find something from the SOS Brigade hideout that hadn’t been in this clubroom before the takeover and was in the room now.
“The computer.”
It was certainly a different model. There was only a power cord on the floor, so it probably wasn’t connected to the Internet. However, this was the only item to draw my attention. The only anomaly I could spot.
Nagato was still standing. She must have been really worried, considering how she’d been watching me the entire time. But the second I glanced her way, she looked down. Upon closer inspection, her cheeks were still faintly flushed. Ah… Nagato. This isn’t you. You would never look away with a flushed face.
I attempted to stand up in a casual fashion so she wouldn’t be so wary, futile as it might have been.
“Nagato.”
I pointed to the back of the computer.
“Do you mind if I use this for a bit?”
Nagato looked surprised before slowly adopting an expression of confusion. After glancing between me and the computer three times, she took a deep breath.
“Wait.”
She awkwardly moved the chair in front of the computer, pressed the power button, and sat down.
A hot cup of coffee would have cooled down to an acceptable temperature for a cat to drink in the time it took for the computer to boot up. After a sound like a squirrel gnawing at a tree trunk came to an end, Nagato began moving the mouse deftly. I would guess that she was moving or deleting files. She probably had stuff she didn’t want other people to see. I could understand the sentiment. I didn’t want anyone else to see my MIKURU folder.
“Go ahead,” Nagato said in a barely audible voice, without looking at me, as she left the seat to stand guard against the wall.
“Sorry about that.”
I sat down and stared at the monitor, using every trick I knew to search for the MIKURU folder and the SOS Brigade website file, before slouching in defeat.
“… Nothing, huh?”
I couldn’t find a link. There wasn’t any proof that Haruhi had ever been here.
I was curious about the data Nagato had just hidden, but I could feel a watchful gaze on my back. All signs indicated that the plug would be pulled the instant I found something I shouldn’t.
There weren’t any clues on this computer. I wasn’t actually interested in the Asahina photo collection or the SOS Brigade website. I was hoping that a helpful message from Nagato might appear, like what happened when Haruhi and I were trapped in closed space. That hope had been crushed.
“Sorry about bothering you.”
I bid farewell in a weary voice and headed for the door. I’ll go home. And go to sleep.
That was when something unexpected happened.
“Wait.”
Nagato drew a sheet of coarse paper from the bookshelf and hesitantly stepped before me. Her eyes were fixed on my necktie knot.
“If you’d like…”
She extended a hand.
“Please take this.”
I was handed a blank application form.
Well.
It’s a good thing that I’ve been through so many experiences that made no sense at all, or I’d be running around looking for a shrink right now.
Evaluating the circumstances would lead to the conclusion that either I was cuckoo in the head or the world had gone out of whack. I was now able to guarantee that the former was out of the question, seeing as I’m always mentally sound as I deliver my witty remarks regarding all of creation. Note how I’m able to make light of the situation with my banter. What the hey.
“…”
I pulled a Nagato and shut up. I was feeling pretty chilly and in more than one way. I can only pretend to be cheerful for so long.
Nagato had turned into a spectacled bookworm, Asahina was an unfamiliar upperclassman, and Koizumi was off at some other school, since he had never transferred to North High.
What’s going on here?
Am I supposed to start all over again? The season isn’t right for that. If this is a reset and I’m supposed to start from the beginning… then I should have been returned to my first day of high school. I don’t know who was responsible for pressing the reset button, but it’s pretty confusing to change the setting without adjusting the flow of time. Just look at how clueless I am now. I thought that was Asahina’s job.
And where is she, anyway? As she goes on with her life without a care in the world while I’ve been hung out to dry…
Where is Haruhi?
Where are you?
Show yourself. This is stressing me out.
“… Damn, why do I have to look for her?”
Or what, you’re no longer here, Haruhi?
Give me a break. I have no idea why I feel this way, but nothing’s going to happen until you show up. It’s unreasonable to leave me by myself to sigh in melancholy. What are you thinking?
I felt like a slave carrying a gigantic boulder up a slope for the construction of a pyramid as I stared up at the cold, overcast sky from my vantage point in the corridor between buildings.
The application form rustled in my pocket.
I returned home to my room to find Shamisen and my sister inside. My sister was smiling innocently as she waved a rod with a fuzzy head around while tapping at the head of Shamisen, sprawled on the bed. Shamisen’s eyes were narrowed, as though he considered this action an annoyance, though he sporadically reached out with a paw to play along.
“Ah, welcome home.”
My sister looked up at me with a smile.
“Dinner’s almost ready. Time for sup-purr, Shami.”
Shamisen also looked up at me, but he immediately yawned and turned to halfheartedly fight off my sister’s usage of the cat teaser.
Oh, yeah. I still had these two.
“Hey.”
I took the cat teaser and flicked it at my sister’s forehead.
“Do you remember Haruhi? Or Asahina, for that matter. Nagato? Koizumi? Do you remember playing baseball with them and acting in the movie?”
“What’s that, Kyon? No idea.”
I proceeded to lift Shamisen.
“How long has this cat been in our house? Who brought him here?”
My sister’s large eyes widened into saucers.
“Um, last month. You were the one who brought him home? Right? You got him from a friend who left the country. Right, Shami?”
My sister plucked the calico from my hands and began rubbing her cheek against it affectionately. Shamisen, with sleepy eyes, gave me a knowing look.
“Hand him over.”
I took the cat back. Shamisen’s whiskers were quivering with irritation from being treated like an object. I’ll reward him with some dried cat food later.
“I need to talk to this guy. Alone. So get out of my room. Right now.”
“Aw—I wanna talk with him too. That’s not fair, Kyon. Huh?… Talk with Shami? Huh? Really?”
I ignored my sister as I lifted her by the waist and carried her out of my room. After ordering her to stay outside, I shut the door.
“Mom. Kyon’s gone funny in the head—”
It wasn’t long before I heard my sister shouting a potentially true statement as she headed downstairs.
“Okay, Shamisen.”
I sat down cross-legged as I spoke to the valuable male calico sitting on the floor.
“I once told you to never speak again. But you can forget about that now. In fact, it would be very reassuring if you were to speak right now. So, Shamisen. Say something. Anything. You can talk philosophy or natural science or whatever. Doesn’t have to make sense. Just talk.”
Shamisen glanced up at me with a disinterested look. He must have been really bored, since he started grooming himself.
“… Do you understand what I’m saying? You can’t talk, but you can still hear me? Something like that? In that case, stick out your right paw for yes and your left paw for no.”
I stuck my hand, palm up, in front of his nose. Shamisen sniffed at my hand for a bit, but as expected, I suppose, he showed no sign of understanding what I was saying and returned to his grooming.
Well, yeah.
He had only ever spoken while we were filming the movie, and only for a short time. He turned back into a normal cat the second we finished. He can only be associated with the verbs “eat,” “sleep,” and “play,” just like any other cat.
I’ve learned one thing, at least. I’m not in a world with talking cats.
Exhausted, I fell onto the bed and stretched. Cats weren’t talking. Which meant that the anomaly came when Shamisen was talking. Which meant that nothing was wrong now. But was that truly the case here?
I wish I could become a cat. Then I wouldn’t have to think about any of this, and I could live true to my instincts.
And there I lay, until my sister came to tell me that dinner was ready.