CHAPTER SIX

The fated Sunday arrived.

I rode my bike to the station front at nine AM, just as I had the day previous. And just like the previous day, everyone else was already there, so we visited the café on my dime and drew lots, whereupon Nagato and I were once again grouped together. Nagato would never forget anything I said to her. I knew I could trust her. It was a lesson I needed to learn myself, honestly. For Nagato more than anyone, I wanted to keep every promise I made her, even if it killed me. That’s how much she’d done for me.

I was mindful of the time we spent at the café, and though Haruhi was even more carefree than she’d been before, I didn’t have time to worry about that. She’d been this way ever since the treasure hunt, so she must have just felt physically unwell during her bad mood early in the month.

It was strange to see Haruhi grinning and whispering something into Asahina’s ear; whatever she said, it made Asahina smile brightly. I wanted to know what it was, but in any case, Koizumi and Nagato were their usual selves, so it didn’t seem like any cataclysms were imminent.

I slurped the foam that remained in the bottom of my mostly empty cup of espresso, as Haruhi slid the check over to me and stood up.

It was ten o’clock on the dot.

There was plenty of time to walk over to the river.

We were to meet back up at noon, which gave me more than enough time to go put the turtle in the river and return.

I watched Haruhi, Koizumi, and Asahina recede into the distance. “Sorry,” I said to Nagato. “Would you mind going to the library on your own? I should be able to come and get you in an hour.”

“I see,” Nagato answered, drawing her duffle coat’s hood up, which completely hid her head.

“Nagato, do you know what it is that Asahina and I are doing?”

“Something necessary,” Nagato murmured as she began to walk down the road that would take her to the library.

“Necessary for whom?”

“For you and for Mikuru Asahina.”

Not for her? Not for Haruhi or Koizumi? I asked.

“…”

Nagato continued to silently walk. Eventually I heard her voice from within her hood. “That possibility exists. It is still unclear.”

From where I stood, I could see her shoulders slacken, whereupon she suddenly turned and fixed my face in her crystalline pupils.

“However—” Her hair shifted in the wind. “It will become clear soon. In which case, I will move. As will Itsuki Koizumi.”

Nagato’s short, declarative speaking style had always been that way, ever since I’d met her.

“Our direction is the same. Mine and yours.”

Having seemingly reached a conclusion, Nagato turned and began to walk quietly away. This time, I didn’t follow her.

“Thanks, Nagato.”

Embarrassment made my voice low. I didn’t know whether the receding hooded figure could hear me or not, but I was certain she understood my feelings. Nagato was certainly clever enough to do that much.

Along the way, I’d figured something else out—that Nagato, Koizumi, Asahina, and I were all jointly and mutually responsible. In the center shone the brilliant star known as Haruhi, and we were all planets that orbited around her. I didn’t know how long it had been that way, but if Mars or Venus were to suddenly disappear from the night sky, not only would it be rather sad, it would be a big problem for astrologers. And for me. Until we knew with total certainty that Martians and Venusians didn’t exist, I didn’t want them to just up and disappear. There are a lot of things that you take for granted until they’re gone. Like lead for your mechanical pencil, when you’re in the middle of a test. Okay, that was a stupid example. But in any case, I didn’t want to feel the terrible sense of loss I’d felt last December ever again.

“Nagato’s taught me something again.”

She’d taught me that the path I should take had been long since decided.

Half an hour later, I arrived at the riverbank. The abnormal autumnally blooming cherry blossoms were nowhere to be seen; there were only bare brown branches, waiting frigidly for spring’s arrival. As I made my way to the bench, I looked down the river, which was at low ebb. It was a typical raised-bed river, with a distance of maybe three meters between the bank and the surface of the water. Thanks to the prudent construction of the dikes on either side, the river had a tidy feel to it. With only a few centimeters of water in the bottom, the river was low, but it was still very pleasant. Come summer, there would be children chasing wildly after the small fish it contained, but here in the dead of winter none wanted to approach the frigid flow.

That may or may not have been the reason, but in any case the bench where Asahina had once confessed her true identity as a time traveler was unoccupied. Despite it being Sunday, there weren’t many people who wanted to take a nice riverside walk when it was this cold out, so the tree-lined path was nearly deserted. There was one bored-looking dog being silently walked by its shivering owner, but that was it.

Just as I was listening to the babble of the flowing water and really playing the part of the lonely high school lad to the hilt, my clever reverie was interrupted.

“Kyon!”

Having descended the stairs that led from the roadside, Asahina stepped onto the riverbank. She was indeed carrying the turtle’s container, but had forgotten to wear her flu mask from yesterday—but with her knit cap and shawl, she still gave off a very different impression from the usual Asahina look, so I supposed it was all right. This would be the last day, anyway.

Asahina faced me and waved, then looked back over her shoulder at the road. When I looked, I saw what must have been the car from the Tsuruya estate driving away—it was a fancy domestic auto, every inch the wealthy family’s second car. We’d have to make sure to thank the driver.

It was ten forty-four AM. Once I walked to the river’s edge with Asahina, it was ten forty-five. Perfect timing.

“The water looks so cold…” Asahina looked down at the lazily flowing river, then held the case that contained the turtle up to her eye level. “I wonder if the turtle will be able to grow up healthy.” My petite older classmate showed kindness to even the smallest animal. “Wait just a moment.”

She placed the case on the ground and opened the lid, then produced the box of feed from her coat pocket. The pond turtle craned his neck up toward the suddenly vanished roof, and when Asahina brought the feed closer, it gulped the treat down in a single bite. It had gotten quite fond of her in just a single night. That was Asahina for you.

I felt bad separating the two of them, but soon the time would be upon us. There were only three minutes to go until ten fifty.

“We’ll come again in spring,” I said soothingly, as I picked up the pond turtle. Unconcerned, the turtle sat quietly in the palm of my hand. “I’m sure we’ll be able to see him again once he’s gotten bigger.”

It was all I could say, though I had no reason to believe it was true. I shook off Asahina’s worried gaze, wound up for the throw. Just as I leaned back in preparation for my underhand toss—

“Excuse me!”

I heard a sudden voice from behind me and nearly wound up tumbling into the river, still holding the turtle. I tottered and stumbled, but managed to steady myself on dry ground, whereupon I immediately turned around.

“Thank you very much for helping me!”

It was a young boy wearing glasses, his voice youthful and his head politely bowed. It was the same boy I’d saved from being killed in a traffic accident a month earlier, and nearby whom Haruhi lived and occasionally served as his tutor.

“Ah…”

Asahina seemed surprised; I certainly was. I never thought we’d meet again.

“What are you doing?” The boy’s features were very different from my sister’s—sharp and intelligent. He looked at Asahina and me, and at the turtle I held. Just as I was about to tell him that that was a question we should be asking him—

“I’m on my way to cram school,” he said clearly, before I even had the chance to ask. He indicated the book bag over his shoulder. “I always come this way. That’s what I was doing that day too.”

He bowed again, then looked confusedly down at the case on the ground, then at the now struggling shelled reptile in my hand.

“Are you going to let that turtle go?”

“Uh, yeah…” I answered, feeling freshly guilty. Both Asahina and the boy seemed to overflow with sympathy for the turtle as they looked at it. I felt their wordless appeal—Why do you have to throw this poor little turtle into a freezing river? But there wasn’t anything I could do. I had to do this.

My watch indicated one minute to go. I couldn’t just stand here doing nothing. I racked my slow-witted brain for some kind of solution.

“Hey, kid, are pets allowed in your house? I mean—would your parents be okay if you came home with this little guy?”

The boy pushed his glasses up. “I think so. If I took care of him, I mean.”

“I see. Hang on a sec.”

Still holding the turtle by his back, I crouched down beside the river. With three meters separating the riverbank where we were from the water’s surface, the distance wasn’t too far. The current was weak, so I wouldn’t lose sight of the turtle.

I gave the turtle a gentle toss—like tossing a feather, trying to keep the impact from being too forceful.

The turtle fell into the river with a plop, leaving behind a series of concentric ripples that moved lazily downriver.

The boy watched the scene as though holding his breath.

Having sunk, the turtle seemed to kick off the river bottom, then stuck his head out. He almost looked bewildered at the ripples he was causing as he floated along. After a short time, he started swimming, and finally he climbed atop a rock and stuck his neck out. He didn’t really seem like he was saying good-bye to us—more likely he was marveling in his turtle-ish way at his suddenly expanded world.

The ripples he made were washed away, but the turtle remained.

I didn’t know what Asahina the Elder had anticipated, but her instructions only went as far as throwing the turtle in the river. Which meant that once I’d done that, I could do whatever I wanted with the turtle after that. That’s what I kept telling myself as I removed my shoes and socks. Once I’d rolled up the legs of my pants, I was ready to go, and as Asahina and the boy watched wide-eyed, I climbed down from the bank. The water was just as cold as it looked, and the bottom was coated in some kind of slimy, mossy substance that did not feel good, but I’d played in many a stream with my cousins in the countryside when I was little, so this was nothing.

“Sorry, turtle.”

The pond turtle lifted his head up. He didn’t try to escape when I brought my hand near, and I was able to easily retrieve him. For the turtle’s part, he probably wanted to ask me why the hell I threw him in the river, if I was just going to go in and fetch him back. Fortunately I had no facility in turtle-ese. Holding him in one hand, I climbed back up onto the bank. By the time I put the turtle back in his case, the chill had crept from my feet all the way up to my neck. Ugh, I was going to have stomach trouble later, I could tell.

I sat down and lifted my feet into the air to shake off the excess water.

“All right, kid, the turtle’s all yours.”

“Can I really have it?” the boy asked hesitantly. He’d seen everything I’d done. “I mean, didn’t you have a reason for throwing this turtle into the river?”

I was no better equipped than the turtle himself to satisfy his childish curiosity—after all, even I didn’t understand the purpose of what I was doing.

“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “I don’t think the turtle really wanted to get tossed into a freezing river in the middle of winter. If you’ll take care of him, I think he’d like that a lot better.”

I wondered about Asahina. She’d said the directions in the letter absolutely had to be followed, but nothing I’d done went against them. I was a little worried about it, but then I saw Asahina gently handing the box of food to the boy.

“Take this too. It’s turtle food.” Then, sounding big-sisterish: “Make sure you take good care of him. Promise?”

“I promise.”

He was a little bit of a brat, but he didn’t seem like a bad kid. He hugged the turtle case and feed box tightly. “I’ll always take good care of him,” he said sincerely—more sincerely than he needed to show, honestly.

“Oh, hey, kid, promise me one more thing.” I had to make sure of one thing. I’d been careless last time, and it had almost been a disaster. The memory still echoed in my mind. “There’s a Haruhi Suzumiya who lives close to you, right?”

“Yes. Haruhi’s always taking care of me; she’s like my big sister.”

The words “big sister” sounded very strange in the context of Haruhi.

“You’ve gotta keep this a secret from Haruhi, got that? You can’t tell her that you saw me or Asahina… I mean, the bunny lady, and you can’t tell her we gave you the turtle. Can you promise me that?”

“I promise.” The boy nodded, his face serious. Well, that was one thing I didn’t have to worry about anymore.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to take him home?” Asahina piped up. “Your parents won’t tell you not to take things from strangers?”

“It’ll be okay. I’ll just tell them something else.” The boy straightened. “I’ll tell them that some people were doing experiments on the turtle, and they didn’t need him anymore so they were gonna throw him away, but I happened to pass by and felt sorry for him, so they let me have him. That’s what I’ll say. My folks’ll definitely let me keep him.”

The kid had his business together. My little sister could have stood to learn a thing or two from him. They were the same age, but there was a huge difference—I guessed it came down to environment.

“I have to get to cram school now, so I’ll be going.”

The boy bowed dutifully. Asahina laid the palm of her hand on his head.

“Don’t forget the promise you made before. Be careful of cars. Make sure you don’t get in any accidents—and make sure to study hard. If you do, I’m sure you’ll grow up to be an important person. One whom everyone will remember for a very long time.”

Asahina extended her little finger, at which the boy showed a bashfulness appropriate to his age. He hesitantly hooked his little finger around hers, thus completing the pinky promise. Seeing the two of them with their linked pinkies like that was ridiculously adorable.

The boy ticklishly pulled his pinky away, then, holding the turtle case as though it were the most precious treasure, walked off, occasionally looking over his shoulder and dipping his head in a bow. Asahina waved to him until he had vanished from sight, and I’d completely dried my feet and gotten my shoes back on before she finally dropped her hand.

“Whew…” She sighed. Apparently for her—or for her future—that boy was an important figure. It was like if I’d traveled back in time and met a towering historical figure from the Edo period. That much I knew without having to ask. And that whoever he was, it would be classified information.

“Whew.” I let a sigh escape myself, the sigh of having accomplished my mission. This was the last thing I had to do with Asahina. The empty can prank, the gourd-shaped stone, the mysterious data storage device, and the turtle.

The problem was I didn’t really know what to do next, and it hadn’t been written on letter #6. I could rest easy so long as Asahina stayed at Tsuruya’s apartment and didn’t go wandering around. If she just did that for two more days, she’d be able to catch up to her own original timeline. Then in exchange, I would have to instruct the current Asahina to travel back in time, but that would happen the day after tomorrow. For now, I felt like a load had been taken off my back.

“Asahina, I know you just got here, but let’s head back to Tsuruya’s place. We’ll catch a cab, and I’ll escort you back. After that, I’ve gotta get back to the library—Nagato’s waiting for me.”

“Okay…”

Asahina started walking a bit absentmindedly. I led us down to the road that ran alongside the row of cherry trees. As we stood there on the road’s shoulder waiting for a taxi, Asahina said little, and she seemed rather depressed.

As I waited for a cab to pass by, I took a look around, wondering if the stranger from yesterday was going to show up again. He was obviously malicious, but that was the problem—he was too over-the-top; he needed to improve his game. To be completely honest, I wasn’t the least bit scared of him. If someone like Koizumi had approached us yesterday instead, that would’ve been much more frightening—it was a mistake in either direction or casting.

Aha! I found myself impressed with my own reliable disposition. And it was true, wasn’t it? Throughout the past year I’d been involved in unthinkable, astounding events, and every time I learned something new. I’m sure I’d been shaken before. But now things were different. I wasn’t at Nagato’s level yet, but I’d had enough time to develop an unshakable core. I’d no longer worry about my own place in the world.

No taxi had come yet; indeed, there were few cars of any kind on the road. I was happy to stand there and loiter for a while beside Asahina, but having sent Nagato off to the library alone, I needed to get to her as soon as I could.

Maybe it was my fault for letting my mind wander so idly.

The next moment, I witnessed something unbelievable.

I hadn’t checked my watch. There hadn’t been an opportunity. I didn’t know the exact time, but it was definitely before eleven o’clock.

The incident played out like this:

As Asahina and I stood there on the left side of the road, dazedly watching for a taxi, a minivan approached us slowly. This wasn’t a highway, so the vehicle’s slow speed itself didn’t strike me as strange, and I paid it no mind.

But soon the van decelerated even more, and although there was no traffic signal in sight, it came to a complete stop—directly in front of us.

I’m not sure if I even had time to think, “What?”

Because it was barely a split second later that the sliding door of the minivan suddenly opened, and arms reached out from within the car and grabbed Asahina’s body, pulling her into the vehicle.

“Ah—?!”

By the time I’d realized that the cry had come from Asahina, the moss-green minivan had accelerated away, its exhaust blasting into me as though mocking me, sliding door still open, and disappeared into the distance.

“Wha—”

It took a couple of seconds before I recovered from my stupor. The van was already gone.

Wait. Wait just a second.

What the hell was this? Asahina had disappeared right before my eyes. She’d been pulled into the van, and the van was already out of sight, and here I was, standing alone at the edge of the road. What was going on?

“A kidnapping…”

And right before my eyes. I had been standing right next to her. She had been close enough that I could’ve reached out my hand or simply grabbed onto her. She had been next to me just a few seconds ago. And now she was gone. How could something so ridiculous actually happen?

“God dammit! What the hell!”

I hadn’t been so freaked out since last December, when I’d realized that Haruhi wasn’t in my class anymore, and sitting behind me instead of her was Asakura.

“Crap!”

Had it been that bastard from yesterday? Was this his doing? If it was, I’d underestimated him. Had his appearance and attitude been a setup to get me to let my guard down? If it had all been a ruse to distract me—

“Asahina!” A loud noise assaulted my eardrums. It wasn’t the sound of the wind through the cherry blossoms. It was the sound of the blood rushing through my head.

I whipped my cell phone out. I had to get somebody, anybody, to help me. If they’d help me get Asahina back, I didn’t care who they were—the police, the fire department, the self-defense forces, or the chamber of commerce. My fingers moved automatically, and the phone was ringing before I even knew who I’d dialed. They picked up immediately.

“What’s up, Kyon?”

It was Haruhi’s voice. In the moment I’d been so flustered that I’d called Haruhi. By this time, I was far past rationality.

“Haruhi, we’re in trouble! Asahina’s been kidnapped!” I shouted.

“Huh? What’re you talking about?”

Haruhi’s voice was entirely calm. My stomach churned and I yelled into the phone again.

“I told you, Asahina’s been kidnapped! We’ve got to help her—”

“Listen, Kyon,” Haruhi began, almost kindly. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, but if you’re going to start making prank calls, you’re going to have to do better than that. I mean, really. Are you kidding me? Mikuru’s been here with me the whole time. If you’d said it was Yuki, that would’ve made more sense.”

“No, it’s not Nagato—it’s Asahina, she’s—” I started, but then I realized it was futile. That’s right—Asahina was with Haruhi. That Asahina was the original one, not the one who’d appeared in the broom closet, who’d now been taken away in a car—

“That’s one point off for you, Kyon, which is less than you deserve for such a lame prank. And by the way, jokes are supposed to be funny. Bye, stupid Kyon!”

“Wait—!”

She hung up.

My hand shook as it held my cell phone. A situation where every second counts was no time to be calling Haruhi. I was such an idiot. If I had an urgent message to deliver, I should’ve called—

My phone started to ring.

I hit the talk button without bothering to check who it was.

“Hello?”

It was Koizumi’s voice. Before I could say anything, he started talking.

“Don’t worry. I got away from Haruhi and the others before I called. I told them I was going to the bathroom.”

Who cared about that? That didn’t matter, what was important was—

“Koizumi! It’s Asahina, she’s—”

“I understand the situation. Leave it to me. They’ll be with you shortly.”

“Who’ll be with me?!”

Almost giddy, I looked up to see a car stopping right in front of me. It was a black taxi. I couldn’t tell what cab company it was from, but it seemed familiar. I’d ridden in a similar cab once—when I was taken to see the Celestials.

The back door of the car opened. “Please get in. Hurry.”

The passenger sitting in the back seat beckoned me into the cab. I leaped in. There was a familiar passenger in the backseat of this familiar car. The door closed behind me before I had time to take in the situation and sudden g-forces pressed me into the seat’s back.

“We’ll catch them soon,” said a crisp, clear voice beside me—a voice I’d heard before. I’d never forget her voice, not after the many times she’d bailed us out in the past year.

“Mori… Sono Mori?!”

“My apologies for being so long out of contact.”

It had only been a month—that wasn’t “long out of contact.” And anyway, what was Mori doing here? And not wearing her maid outfit, but instead in a totally ordinary set of office clothes?

Mori gave her usual calm smile. “Didn’t Koizumi explain? I am also a member of the Agency. The maid disguise is only for when I’m working with you and your friends.”

My eyes went to the driver, at which Mori spoke as though to put me at ease.

“Not just me—him, as well.”

The driver brought his left hand up to adjust the rearview mirror, through which his eyes met mine.

“Arakawa…”

“Indeed,” said the middle-aged butler who excelled at cooking and—apparently—high-speed cab driving. “To kidnap such a lovely young lady—it’s a disgrace. We won’t let them get away.”

He stomped down on the accelerator, pushing me still harder into the seat. Riding in a car traveling at such a tremendous speed was terrifying, but it was also helping to thaw my shock-frozen brain.

Mori and Arakawa. I knew the two of them were Koizumi’s cohorts, and that the maid and butler roles were just part-time jobs for them. But I’d never expected to meet them like this, their car arriving immediately after Asahina had been kidnapped, as though they had expected it—Oh. Now I understood.

“You knew this was going to happen,” I managed to say. “You and Koizumi knew that Asahina was going to be kidnapped. That’s why you were standing by so close.”

“No,” said Mori, smiling like a female version of Koizumi. “It wasn’t you that we’d marked. It was them. When we saw their car approach you, we were unsure what they would do. Their actions surprised us as much as they did you.”

“What do you mean by ‘them’?”

“Koizumi didn’t explain that either? Asahina’s kidnappers are from an organization that opposes the Agency.”

It didn’t really matter who they were. I wouldn’t let them get away with this, whether they were time travelers or espers.

“Why did they take her, of all people…?”

“They acted rashly. No doubt they want to secure a privileged position in the future while they still can.”

Privileged? I asked.

“Yes. I expect they plan to use her to bargain with the future. However, they’ve made a mistake. They should have kidnapped the Mikuru Asahina who is now with Koizumi.” Mori explained the absurdity like it was nothing special. “It was a sloppy plan. They must be desperate. We need to know what has made them need to move so quickly.”

That weirdo from before appeared suddenly too. Another time traveler. Was this because of his appearance?

Mori seemed to agree, as though having read my mind. “They seem to have joined forces in earnest. We cannot allow this.”

“So is the Agency…” I wanted to say “my,” but somehow restrained myself. “… Is it our ally?”

“Our goal is to maintain the status quo. Is that not enough?”

It was precisely enough. But what were the bastards who had kidnapped Asahina thinking? I asked. And what were they? If they weren’t our allies, were they enemies? What kind of people were they?

“They consist of an organization that works against the Agency, a group of time travelers who oppose Mikuru Asahina, and a cosmic entity other than the one that created Yuki Nagato,” said Mori plainly. “We knew they would interfere soon, having heard Koizumi’s report regarding the snow mountain late last year. It was conceivable that they would join forces—rather, it was inevitable. There is significant potential payoff in gambling on Ha-ruhi Suzumiya. They might lose everything, but they stand to gain much.”

Bouncing and swaying, the black cab flew through a railroad crossing without stopping, then threaded through an S-curve, barely so much as slowing down, tires squealing.

“As does Koizumi, and you and your friends.”

I was starting to feel carsick. “So you knew about the other Asahina? You knew that she’d come back from one week in the future, and that she was holed up at Tsuruya’s place?”

“It is likely that without her, the original Mikuru Asahina would have been kidnapped. Before Haruhi Suzumiya’s very eyes.”

That was the worst possible scenario. There was no telling what Haruhi would do.

“Which means…”

It meant that the Asahina who’d come from the future had been kidnapped instead of the current Asahina. In other words, her future self had saved her past self. Was that why (Michiru) Asahina had to come? I could have carried out all of the instructions in Asahina the Elder’s letters on my own. So what had been the meaning of the things I’d done with Asahina? The other group of time travelers. The turtle and the boy. And the kidnapping. Only Asahina the Elder knew everything.

A strange emotion settled over me.

“Don’t lose them, Arakawa,” said Mori.

“Understood.”

Their exchange brought my attention front and center. The moss-green car was in view. Both vehicles were still traveling at high speed. Given the way we were going, it wouldn’t have been surprising if we’d gotten into three or four accidents by now, but Arakawa’s driving technique was as good as any rally racer’s. He was no ordinary butler.

The kidnappers’ car seemed to be heading for the mountains. If we kept going, we’d soon reach the forest park where we’d shot our movie, then keep heading north. Past that there was little but mountain roads, and few people or buildings. Damn, what were they planning to do to Asahina there? I wouldn’t let them get away with it.

I glared at the rear end of the van ahead of us—the moss-green minivan. It looked just like the one from before—the vehicle that had nearly run over the boy in glasses. There was no mistaking it; whoever was in that van, they weren’t our allies.

Still driving at an insane speed, the kidnappers’ van swerved off the paved roadway and onto a true mountain road. Arakawa pulled on the steering wheel and followed. The road seemed to have been forcibly carved out of the cliff; it was barely wide enough for two cars to pass each other, and there was no guardrail. If the driver slipped up, we’d wind up tumbling to the foot of the mountain.

I never thought I’d be in a high-speed car chase before, but I wasn’t levelheaded enough to appreciate that fact. All I could focus on was how badly I wanted to beat the crap out of the kidnappers.

A cell phone started ringing, as if to throw cold water on the flames of my fighting spirit. It wasn’t my phone, though; Mori took her own phone out and put it to her ear.

I couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded like a man’s voice. Mori was silent for a while, listening.

“Understood. According to the plan, then,” she replied simply, then raised her elegant voice and directed it at the driver’s seat. “Arakawa, just a bit farther.”

“Very well,” said Arakawa in a reliable-sounding tone, nodding. He downshifted, revving the engine. There was no chance for me to ask what they were planning to do.

“Whoa—!”

We were approaching a bowlike curve in the unpaved road. A police car appeared ahead, coming toward us around the bend. It slammed on its parking brake and executed a perfect drift turn, coming to a stop in the middle of the road, totally blocking the way.

With nowhere to go, the minivan braked hard, kicking up a cloud of dust as it skidded. My blood ran cold when one of its wheels seemed about to go over the edge of the cliff, but the kidnappers’ driver was pretty good, managing to force the car back on course, where it completed a full spin and an additional half revolution. The van’s nose faced the mountainside as it came to a stop alongside the police car.

Arakawa executed a similar, if slower, maneuver, bringing the black cab to a sideways-facing stop. The minivan was trapped. The only place it could go was off the edge of the cliff.

“Arakawa, stand by here,” said Mori, then opened her door and stepped out onto the mountain road. I followed, but just as I was about to dash over to the minivan, Mori grabbed my arm.

She stopped me with a sharp glance, then called out to the van in a clear voice. “Turn off your engine and step out of the vehicle! You still have time!”

Her tone was polite as ever, but it had a different timbre to it than the one I remembered from the island mansion and Tsuruya’s mountain villa.

An officer got out of the police car. When I looked at the smartly uniformed figure, I was stunned. Underneath the policeman’s cap was the youthful face of the younger Tamaru brother, Yutaka; he gave me a thumbs-up. Still in the driver’s seat of the patrol car was his older brother, Keiichi, who met my eye and nodded.

Had these been the people Mori was on the phone with?

“Release Asahina Mikuru. You have failed. There is no need to continue this!”

Mori’s clear voice brought my attention back to the van. Its windows were tinted, so I couldn’t make out the interior. Unable to contain my impatience, I was just about to run over and give it a kick or something when the idling engine fell silent, and the moss-green sliding door began to move. It was opening so slowly, though, that I wondered if they intended to resist.

But when the kidnappers revealed themselves, my eyes went wide at their appearance. The group that emerged from the van was not comprised of tough-looking criminals or soldiers, but normal-looking young men and women like you’d see just walking around town. The fact that there wasn’t a vicious-looking one among them made me even more worried.

All those thoughts were blasted away as soon as I saw Asahina slumped inside the van. The last kidnappar to emerge carried her out—her body was slack, evidently unconscious.

I’d never forgive them.

Before I could run at them, Mori stopped me again.

“You must know this already, but I’ll say it again. If you so much as leave a single scratch on her…”

My body went slack at the sight of her cold expression. I’d never dreamed a beautiful woman’s smile could be so terrifying. Ha-ruhi had an angry grin that she sometimes used, but this was on an entirely different level.

Perhaps sensing my fear, Mori turned to me and gave me her normal maid-like smile, then focused her attention on the idiotic kidnappers once again. “Leave peacefully. We will allow you to go free. Return to your organization and go where you like. Otherwise—” Mori’s smile turned still more threatening, making me dizzy. If I’d been one of the kidnappers, I would’ve been petrified.

But the kidnappers just stood there and snorted, then released Asahina. The unconscious girl slumped back and down, leaning against the van’s tire. The kidnappers saved themselves by handling her very carefully. If they’d just shoved my lovely Asahina off, I probably would’ve charged toward them, raising a cry, fists at the ready.

“We will have your vehicle sent back to you later. Leave the area on foot.”

Mori pointed at the cliff’s edge, indicating that they should climb down from there. It wouldn’t be impossible, but descending without any climbing equipment would certainly be difficult. It served them right.

“Oh well,” said one of the kidnappers, sounding cheerful enough that I wondered if she really understood her own position. “I guess I expected this. Too bad, though. Maybe it was fate, after all.”

She was the only woman in the group, and the one who’d set Asahina down. When I looked more closely at her, she seemed to be in her mid-teens. Age-wise, she wasn’t far from me.

The woman pierced me with a brilliant smile. “Hello, there. I’m sorry these are the circumstances, but I’m honored to finally meet you. I’d hoped to properly introduce myself someday.”

She gave a signal to her cohorts with her body language. Leaving their female companion behind, the cohorts seemed not at all reluctant to go. The last of them looked about college-age, and he conscientiously closed the van door before he went, then headed to the near-perpendicular edge of the cliff. One by one, they disappeared down into the forest; neither Mori nor Yutaka Tamaru seemed to want to catch any of them.

I wanted to run immediately over to Asahina, but Mori again took my arm and wouldn’t let go. I heard a giggle—it was the kidnapper woman.

“You don’t have to worry. We did not harm your little time traveler in the slightest. She’s only sleeping because of the tranquilizer we gave her, and I doubt she’ll even remember what happened. She fell asleep so quickly it surprised even us. Has she gotten used to being knocked out?”

The woman—no, girl—was still composed, even with her cohorts gone. How long was Mori going to let her get away with that? These guys were kidnappers! What about the Tamaru brothers—if they were gonna dress like cops, they should at least have a set or two of handcuffs.

I was just about to voice my protest, when the sliding door of the supposedly empty minivan was opened again—from the inside.

“What a pain.” A man’s face popped out, with a smile five times more malicious than anything I’d seen from Koizumi. “You got us way too easily. It was so easy to steal Sleeping Beauty here that I wish we could’ve held on to her a little longer. This is just going to backfire on us now.”

He made no move to leave the van, simply leaning back in his seat. It was him—the guy from yesterday. The other time traveler, whose appearance seemed so strangely significant.

“This, too, was predetermined—for us, as well. So I don’t really care.”

“You should leave too,” said Mori in a kind, big-sisterly voice, smiling with lips like the petals of a poisonous flower. “Or do you plan to stay for a while? We’ll be happy to prepare you a bed.”

“I won’t waste your time.” The bastard looked down at Asahina, snorting, then turned his malicious eyes to me. “This wasn’t a failure. It’s historical fact. You all did very well—you and Asahina too. Tell me, is it fun, being made to dance like that? Count me out. I’m sick of just playing a part.”

“Oh? Are you really?” It was the kidnapper girl. “So how much of the future is decided, then? It takes some skill to follow the path that leads to the correct outcome, doesn’t it? Anyone can dance, but dancing correctly is quite difficult.”

“Hmph. You go right ahead and dance, then. I wasn’t counting on help from you people anyway.”

“Is that so?” said the girl, amused. “That may be fine for you, but are we not assembling at the same place? Let’s join forces.”

The bastard’s face twisted in annoyance, and he glared at me again. I wanted to tell him that he was going to have to do better than that—Haruhi had gotten me used to being glared at. If he wanted a staring contest, I’d take him on any day.

Maybe he sensed my anger; his face was full of loathing. “Fools, all of you. You don’t understand anything. Your ignorance is terrifying.” He put his hand on the door’s handle and gave me one last parting line. “I’ll come again. You’ll see me many times—it’s ridiculous, but it’s my duty.”

He closed the van door; evidently that was all he had to say.

Nobody moved. Mori was still, continuing to stare right through the kidnapper girl, and I took my cue from her. The unnamed kidnapper girl stood there smiling, then went over to the van, as though having suddenly remembering something, and opened the door.

I already knew there would be no one inside. The interior of the car was empty. That malicious jerk was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t know if he’d used teleportation or time travel, but either way I was happy he was gone.

“I’ll be going as well.” The girl dusted off her hands, as though having finished her work, and looked down the mountain road. “I suppose I’ll walk back. Oh, feel free to take care of the car. You needn’t return it. It’s yours.”

“Thank you,” replied Mori, finally letting go of my arm. I dashed toward Asahina like a mother bird returning to the nest where she’s left her babies.

“Asahina!” I lifted her up. The soft sound of her breath and periodic rising of her chest were proof that she was still alive. I gave one last angry glare in the direction of the kidnappers, but the girl had already started making her way down the cliff.

Mori leaned over beside me, drawing close to Asahina’s sleeping face. She put a finger to Asahina’s neck and brought her lips close to the unconscious girl’s mouth.

“She is unhurt. I expect she’ll awaken in a couple of hours. Please, take her to the car.”

I carried her, of course. I was well used to carrying Asahina around. It was one job I didn’t want anyone else doing for me.

We returned to the black taxi. Arakawa gave Asahina a fond look as though she were his own grandchild, then regarded me similarly. I relaxed my arms and let Asahina gently come to rest in the car’s backseat. I had no idea what was going to happen, but I was elated at having gotten her back. When I thought about what it would’ve been like if they’d gotten away… no, I didn’t want to think about it, and it couldn’t have happened anyway.

It must have been nice to be Asahina the Elder and believe in predetermined events. For her to do something like this, it must have been absolutely necessary in order for this Asahina to eventually become her. Right, Asahina?

I continued to gaze at my younger-seeming older schoolmate, not noticing when Mori got back into the car, nor saying anything to the Tamaru brothers. I only came out of my reverie when the car began to move.

“Where shall we go?” Mori asked me, and only then did I realize that the taxi was heading back down the highway we’d come up before.

“… The library.”

At the moment, I just wanted to see Nagato’s face and calm down. I sat back in the seat, feeling about as exhausted as Asahina looked.

I’d thought my work was done once I’d put the turtle in the water, then retrieved it, but the fact that Asahina’s kidnapping awaited soon after was more than just unexpected. Despite my psychological exhaustion, I managed to move my mouth and speak.

“Mori… have those guys always targeted Asahina? Have there been failed kidnapping attempts all along? Are there going to be more…?”

“She will not be kidnapped in this time period.”

“Well, then, what was it that just happened?”

“I believe that what I am saying is correct. Her current self is completely unharmed. After all, someone else was kidnapped in her stead.” Mori’s face was filled with affection. “Mikuru Asahina enjoys the protection of many. Yours, Yuki Nagato’s, and even ours. We are all alike in that we don’t wish to hand her over to anyone.”

Just as I trusted Koizumi, I supposed I could trust Mori.

“As for the rest, I suggest you ask your lovely maid—the older one, from further in the future.”

That much was obvious. I exhaled, then voiced the sudden question that came to mind. “Mori, are you Koizumi’s superior? Something about the way you talk makes me think so.”

Mori giggled and smiled a strangely ageless smile. “You needn’t concern yourself with that. We’re like a company; all the employees are quite close and don’t stick to formalities, not even with the company president.”

I could tell she was dodging the question, but the truth was I wasn’t very interested in the internal hierarchy of the Agency. If I really wanted to know, I could just lean on Koizumi to tell me. He probably wouldn’t tell me the truth, but then again, neither would Mori. If he wanted to tell me, Koizumi wouldn’t wait for me to ask before delivering his whole spiel. Maybe that was the Agency style of doing things. He’d give me an earful eventually; that much was certain.

All I had to do was wait.

I got out of the taxi in front of the library, and with Mori’s help got the still-sleeping Asahina safely situated on my back.

“Take care. Until we meet again,” she said with a smile that came right out of her maid era. Arakawa gave me a silent bow, and the black taxi sped away, heading north up the highway.

I wondered if it had been Arakawa in the driver’s seat when Koizumi took me to see the Celestials. I’d have to ask about that. And thank him too—Arakawa and the Tamaru brothers both.

Heading to the library’s entrance with Asahina on my back, I saw Nagato waiting for me there. She stood stock-still, apparently unaffected by the cold.

“I am glad she is unhurt,” said Nagato, before I could say anything. Her crystalline eyes regarded Asahina, whose cheek rested on my shoulder. “I heard what happened.”

From whom? I asked. Koizumi?

Nagato shook her head slowly, then even more slowly held a hand out to me.

She was holding an envelope. Beside the fancy design on it, there was a single handwritten numeral.

Number 5.

The missing message had been delivered to Nagato. I hardly had to ask who the sender was, but Nagato told me.

“Mikuru Asahina’s temporal variant. We met roughly one hour ago.”

So Asahina the Elder had been here. But to think she’d go to Nagato!

“What did she say?”

“She said to take care of herself,” said Nagato simply, then reached out with her index finger and touched Asahina on the forehead.

“… Mm… ah… Whaa…?”

It was a magic touch. Asahina’s eyes blinked open.

“Waah… Kyon… huh? Why are you carrying… oh, N-Nagato…”

Shamisen struggled the same way when someone picked him up. Asahina had started squirming immediately upon awakening, and although I would’ve been happy to carry her a bit longer, she seemed unlikely to calm down—and Nagato was watching. I let Asahina down. According to what Mori had said, the tranquilizer was supposed to keep Asahina asleep for two hours, but perhaps because of something Nagato did, Asahina seemed perfectly steady once her feet were on the ground.

Her eyes a bit red at the corners, Asahina looked up at me.

“Um… what happened to me? We gave the turtle to the boy, and then… then all of a sudden there was a car, and it stopped, and…”

Apparently she’d been given the tranquilizer immediately thereafter. She didn’t remember anything, so I explained the rest. As the story progressed, her face went from pale to flushed, and when I finished the tale of the car chase, she smiled, much to my surprise.

“So that’s what happened. I guess even I can be useful sometimes. I managed to protect my other self in this time line.”

Asahina’s straightforward smile blasted all the psychological fatigue out of me. She was right. If it hadn’t been for (Michiru) Asahina, the kidnappers would’ve resorted to more extreme methods to capture Asahina the Younger. They might’ve done it right in front of Haruhi. Koizumi and his comrades could have tried to stop them without worrying about the consequences, but that would’ve been a terrifying turn of events. Haruhi would be shocked, and Koizumi’s Agency could hardly stand by and do nothing. But even our enemies would realize that, now—that they couldn’t get away with kidnapping even the comparatively harmless (Michiru) Asahina.

We’d managed to get Asahina back without relying on Nagato. I’ll bet our antagonists were well aware of what might have happened if she had been involved. If they wanted to be our enemies, I looked forward to seeing them get the treatment they deserved.

“Oh, that letter…” Asahina’s eyes fell upon envelope #5. “When did it…?”

Just a while ago. It was for Nagato, I said.

“For Nagato…” Her long eyelashes fluttering, Asahina addressed her petite fellow brigade member. “N-Nagato. Who was it that gave you this letter—was it…?”

“I cannot say,” came Nagato’s flat refusal. The expressionless alien continued, as though to remind Asahina. “You will understand eventually.”

Asahina’s mouth opened, and she froze.

“You of all people should understand that,” added Nagato, in a voice that sounded like a snow sculpture given life. She then pulled the hood of her duffle coat over her head.

I guess I wasn’t the only one who wanted to remind Asahina that it wasn’t that we didn’t want to tell her—it was that she should’ve known without asking.

I suddenly felt strangely uncomfortable sandwiched between the two silent girls, so I opened the letter and read it.

The contents of letter #5 were as follows: “This is the end. Please tell your Mikuru Asahina to return to her original temporal posting. You are free to choose the time designation. And location as well, if you like. Do as you will.”

“Do as you will,” huh? I wouldn’t mind hearing that phrase under different circumstances, just once. From the original Asahina, of course.

Of course, since this is me we’re talking about, even if that wish were granted, I’d probably just stand there and faint dead away, sleeping soundly until Haruhi came along to pound wakefulness into me. I wasn’t like Haruhi—I wouldn’t wish for the Earth’s rotation to reverse. It was better to just seal away wishes you didn’t actually want to come true. The world was best left as it was.

Which was why we had to send Asahina back. I placed my hand on the shoulder of the dazed-looking Asahina, and showed her letter #5. She seemed to be more concerned about the sender’s identity than the content, but she read it through to the end, her face showing her acceptance.

“I understand. I’ve finished what I needed to do.” She then continued, sounding a bit lonely. “But it was an indirect order. If it hadn’t come through you, I wouldn’t be able to return to my own time.” Her sad expression soon disappeared, though, and she smiled. “Someday I’ll be able to do all of this on my own. You’ll see. That’s when I’ll come and save you, Kyon, and everybody else. I don’t know when it will happen, but surely…”

Her wish would come true, so long as she didn’t lose sight of her resolve at that moment.

I glanced down at my watch. “So, about the time we’ll return you to…”

This Asahina had appeared in the broom closet six days earlier, at three forty-five PM, and at the time she’d explained she’d come from eight days in the future, at four fifteen PM— thus her correct temporal posting was two days from now, after four fifteen. Anytime before that, and her situation wouldn’t be any different than it was at this moment. We wanted to avoid another instance of two Asahinas existing simultaneously. A sixty-two-second time lag would do nicely.

“Two days from now will be Tuesday. Shall we say four sixteen in the afternoon? That way only one minute will pass without your existence. The same place should work—we’ll send you right back into the clubroom’s broom closet.”

“That sounds fine, since you were the only person in the room then, Kyon,” said Asahina.

“Uniform and school slippers,” said Nagato, reminding me.

This Asahina was wearing things she’d borrowed from Nagato. Her school uniform was back at Tsuruya’s house. But if I went with her to get them now, I’d miss the scheduled rendezvous time with the rest of the brigade. I didn’t like the idea of sending Asahina back to fetch them alone either.

“Let’s do this. You go back to your correct time in those clothes, and I’ll get your uniform and shoes from Tsuruya later today and figure something out.”

“I will leave that to you, then. Oh, um…” Asahina bowed, then looked up at me seriously, opening her mouth, then shutting it as though having forgotten what she wanted to say. I wondered if it was my imagination that she seemed to be worried about Nagato.

“It’s… it’s nothing. We’ll talk about it after I get back.”

It bothered me, but it probably wasn’t too important. If it was something I didn’t need to know about for two days, I wouldn’t worry about it.

I would not have minded Asahina activating her time-travel mechanism right there on the spot, but she didn’t want to be seen doing it. She wanted a place where she could be alone. We went into the library and escorted Asahina to the girls’ bathroom.

“Kyon, thank you for everything. I really should thank Koizumi and Tsuruya too.”

She could tell Koizumi anytime, but Mori would have to be thanked whenever we met her next. As for Tsuruya, I said, she probably already understood, but I’d make sure to thank her too.

“Well then… Kyon, Nagato—I’ll see you soon.”

Reluctant to say good-bye right up to the end, Asahina sighed and entered the bathroom. I heard the sound of a stall door closing, but no further Foley reached my ears after that. Nagato looked up quietly.

“She has disappeared from current space-time,” she explained.

It was over, then. All I had to do now was wait two days. I left the library with Nagato and heaved a deep sigh.

“Hey, Nagato. Just since yesterday, Asahina and I have met a time traveler from a different faction and a group that opposes Koizumi’s organization.”

“I see.”

“Yeah. So I was thinking maybe the other aliens are also around.”

“Are you afraid?” Nagato asked, her gaze perfectly still.

I offered her her own answer. “I am not afraid.”

You’ve got that right, Nagato. I had the same opinion. I bet Asahina and Koizumi would agree with me too. Us birds of a feather had to get along, I said.

Nagato faced silently ahead, and I closed my mouth and continued to walk.

I knew full well that I didn’t have to come right out and say something so obvious. The SOS Brigade wasn’t a group of five people. It was a single unit. There was no need to explain that to the person who’d long since understood that far better than I ever had.