WANDERING SHADOW

The smart sound of the ball hitting the gym floor echoed along with shrill cries, bouncing off the ceiling and washing over me.

I was dressed in slightly dirty gym clothes, my hands folded lazily behind my head and my feet stretched out in front of me. I was totally relaxed, and if you wanted to know what I was doing in that totally relaxed state, the simple answer was that I was spectating. After all, I had nothing else to do that day, but simply having nothing to do does not get you out of school; thus I found myself looking down at the scene unfolding below me.

I was sitting on the catwalk that runs along both sides of the gymnasium, a narrow walkway with handrails. I imagine just about every gym has them. I’m not exactly sure what they’re for, but at the time there was no doubt that they’d been provided for people like me to observe the competitions below. And I wasn’t the only one lazing around up there either.

Taniguchi was doing the same thing, right next to me.

“Damn, our girls are pretty good,” he offered, not sounding particularly impressed, despite his words.

“Yeah,” I replied vaguely, following the white volleyball as it moved around the court. The ball, falling parabolically down after being grandly served by the opposition, got tossed vertically up in a perfect set.

As I watched the ball come down, a gym clothes–clad girl came running up from well behind the attack line, jumped, and brought her raised hand down with amazing force, converting potential energy into kinetic energy, which was transferred onto the poor ball, which in turn split two opposing blocks and landed in the corner of their court. It was a perfect counterattack, and the volleyball club member who was acting as an umpire blew her whistle.

More cheers echoed through the gym.

Taniguchi must have been really bored. “Hey, Kyon, want to bet on which side’s going to win?” he asked unenthusiastically.

It was a good idea, but without a handicap, it might not be a blowout, but it wasn’t going to be an even match either.

Before Taniguchi could open his mouth again, I replied, “Class Five’s gonna win. No doubt about it.”

Taniguchi clucked his tongue. I gave him a sidelong look and continued.

“After all, she’s on the team.”

The girl landed beautifully, right next to the net, and turned around, revealing a daring smile. She wasn’t looking up at me, and it was a different smile than the self-satisfied one she used in the clubroom. To the teammates who gathered around her excitedly, it wordlessly said, “This is just too easy!”

It was a one-set match to 15 points.

Just as I predicted, our class—Class 5, year 1—won by double the opponent’s score. The ace attacker who was the source of most of their points mingled among her teammates, who were busily high-fiving one another. She, meanwhile, raised her fist and lightly punched the open palms of her team.

As she exited the court’s sidelines, she finally noticed us crammed in the catwalk. She stopped and looked up for just a moment, and then I was released from her usual dagger-like gaze.

No matter what she did, she excelled at it, and if it were a contest of any sort, she hated to lose—even going so far as to score nearly all the points in this volleyball game. She—ah, there’s no point in being mysterious anymore, obviously it’s Haruhi Suzumiya—took a sports drink passed to her by a classmate-turned-teammate and drank it dry.

As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, there was a tournament on.

It was early March, and with final exams having ended, a school would enter preparations for its next break, and our particular public high school was no exception. As far as the school schedule went, we’d just be waiting for the term to end, but at some point, somebody had gotten the brilliant idea to find something else to do with that time, and as a result, around this time every year the school would hold an intramural sports tournament.

I’m sure the idea was to let us unwind after we’d curdled our brains with exam studying, but if this was their idea of unwinding, I’d rather they just extend the vacation.

Incidentally, soccer was on the boys’ menu, while girls would be playing volleyball. I was on Class 1-5’s B team, which had lost to our old enemies, Class 1-9, in the first round of the tournament. I didn’t consider them enemies just because Koizumi was in that class—it was because 1-9 was on the special math and science course, and as a matter of course was filled with brainiac types, and if we couldn’t at least beat them at soccer, we’d be humiliated in front of the other classes. And having lost, we were indeed thus humiliated.

So it was that we’d had nothing better to do than to head over to the gym to watch the girls in their gym uniforms.

“Still, Suzumiya is really amazing,” said Kunikida calmly from a few feet away. The girls’ volleyball team had gotten through to the third round, thanks to Haruhi’s significant efforts, and we’d been watching since the middle of the second. “Why doesn’t she join one of the sports clubs? Talent like hers isn’t exactly common.”

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I agreed wholeheartedly. If Haruhi would just join the track-and-field club, she’d probably be able to qualify for nationals in short-, medium-, and long-distance running. And the same was true for any other sport. She absolutely hated to lose, after all. I never met anyone else so obsessed with being the winner, or being the best.

I looked over to the other court, where there was still a match in progress. “I’m sure she’d tell you she’s got more important things to do than waste her youth on sports.” I was hoping that maybe Asahina or Nagato would be playing, but I didn’t see either of them anywhere in the gym.

“Like the SOS Brigade, eh?” said Taniguchi, chuckling. “Heh, that’s just like her. Hard to imagine her doing anything like a normal student. She’s been that way since middle school. These days her favorite thing to do is get up to incomprehensible games with you, Kyon.”

I wasn’t in the mood to refute him.

There wasn’t much time left in the school year. The school day had been shortened for the tournament, which automatically lessened the amount of time spent in the classroom. We’d move into the spring break, and just about when the cherry blossoms started to bloom, we’d become second-year students. Then there’d be the reshuffling of classes that worried many a student, which would decide what joys and sorrows the following year would contain. I’d grown fond of these two jerks, and it would’ve been nice to have them in my classroom the next year, if nothing else.

As I zoned out, Kunikida sat up, which grabbed my attention.

“Looks like the next match is starting.”

I looked and saw the girls of Class 1-5 scattering onto the court, with Haruhi, their captain, at the center.

I was ready for spring to arrive at any time, but given the school’s position between mountains, the air was still pretty cold. There was an emotional factor that probably added to the feeling of cold—that being the fact that I’d gotten my test results back a few days previous.

The scores weren’t too bad, at least by my standards, but they weren’t enough to satisfy my mom’s hopes, and she’d sent away for pamphlets from cram schools and tutoring centers, leaving them where I’d find them—it was so bad that my stomach hurt. She just wanted me to get into a public university somewhere, and on paper that was my ambition too. Aim high and all that. And plus… how do I put it? There was Haruhi to consider.

The reason my final-exam marks weren’t doing their best impression of low-altitude flying was because Haruhi had become a temporary in-house tutor, helping me do last-minute cramming in the clubroom. A few days before the exams started, she’d scattered textbooks and notes all over the table and said this:

“I won’t let you take makeup exams or extra lessons. I will not allow you to make mistakes that come between you and your SOS Brigade duties!”

When it came to “SOS Brigade duties,” I didn’t complain. Before I could even ask what the hourly wage for brigade duties was, my wallet was already empty—not that it mattered.

In any case, even I had to admit that sitting across from Koizumi and drinking Asahina’s tea in the clubroom beat getting stared at by a teacher while trying to solve new questions or listening to boring lectures, so I did not resist when Haruhi donned an armband that said “Professor” and delivered her teachings.

Professor Haruhi’s method of test taking was extremely simple—she relied on pure speculation to guess which questions would be on the test and studied those heavily. I knew her intuition to be keen indeed, so I was only too happy to go along with her. If I’d asked Nagato, she probably could’ve just recited every question and an example answer to go along with it, whereas Koizumi could’ve employed some intrigue to steal the tests out of the staff room, but I resorted to neither supernatural powers nor covert operations and decided to simply apply myself. To be honest, watching Haruhi the house tutor happily brandish her pointer, even going so far as to wear fake glasses, I had no particular desire to use any other method, since it wouldn’t actually be in my best interests.

There was no question that Haruhi wanted to sit behind me in class again next year. There was no question that she’d occasionally poke me in the back with her mechanical pencil, regardless of whether class was happening or not, saying, “Hey, Kyon, I’ve been thinking—” before excitedly launching into an explanation of whatever it was I’d come to wish she hadn’t been thinking about. And to do that, she’d have to be in the same class as me, which meant we’d have to be aiming for roughly the same level of college, which naturally led to her having an interest in my grades. I mean, I was the SOS Brigade’s exclusive errand boy. It was the same way an army made up of only officers would be useless. It was Haruhi’s job to give orders, and it was my job to carry things around.

That had been the way things were last year, and I had no doubt that they would continue into next year. That was certainly what Haruhi wanted, and she’d do anything to make her desires reality. We could even wind up repeating this last year over and over into infinity.

Of course, I didn’t think anything like the August incident would happen again. Haruhi wouldn’t reset the year. I was fairly sure of that.

Why was I so sure? Because I knew that the year that followed the creation of the SOS Brigade had been a lot of fun for Haruhi. Haruhi would never unmake those memories. I was positive.

I could look at the way she was right now and know.

I once again looked at the scene below me.

Haruhi was leading her volleyball team to victory.

She attacked ruthlessly, over and over. I had no interest in the way her shirt fluttered up to reveal her belly button when she jumped. What had my attention was her expression.

Last March, when I’d first met her, Haruhi was completely isolated from the rest of the class. Or should I say, she’d made no effort to fit in, to find a place for herself. Sitting in that chair behind me, she never smiled and was totally closed off, as though she’d taken it upon herself to singlehandedly dampen the mood of the class. Even after that, once she’d started talking to me at least, she was still estranged from the other girls—but not anymore. While she didn’t have a particular group she was good friends with, her days of always pushing everyone away were behind her.

It seemed like the creation of the SOS Brigade had pushed her in a good direction. At the same time, she’d always had that ability within herself. It had been during middle school that Haruhi had started having difficulties. I bet that before that she’d had the force of a radar-guided missile and shone with the brilliance of a fiery afterburner—so rather than her having “gotten better,” it was more accurate to say that she’d gotten her old self back.

I hadn’t known her before the first year of middle school. And even then, I’d only barely glanced at her. I seem to remember wanting to ask someone who’d gone to the same elementary school as her what she’d been like, but I don’t think I wound up doing it.

There on the volleyball court, Haruhi and her classmates were enjoying the tournament. But she seemed to be holding back a little. Apparently her full-on hundred-watt brigade chief power was reserved for when she was dreaming up punishment games. Which was too bad. It was a waste not to let it shine here too.

Haruhi nailed another spike, then looked almost embarrassed as she punched her teammates’ extended fists.

The tournament came to an end, thus concluding the day’s school activities.

Anyone with clubs to attend scattered to do so, while people not in clubs went home. Since the members of the SOS Brigade were assembling in the literature club room, I made my way toward my familiar folding chair with Haruhi, who strode up the stairs in high spirits.

It was obvious that her good mood was due to her victory in the volleyball tournament. It wasn’t as though they gained anything by coming out on top, but as I looked at Haruhi walking beside me, I could tell she was extremely pleased. She’d also triumphed against the student council president’s attempt to close down the literature club, and I couldn’t think of anything else that could drive her to melancholy—except, I suppose, the impending advancement to our second year of high school.

According to Koizumi, more or less anything Haruhi wished for would come to pass, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Nagato, Koizumi, and I wound up all in the same class along with Haruhi. Koizumi was in a special class, but I was sure Haruhi’s Haruhi-brand power could do something about that. Compared to making energy beams shoot out of Asahina’s eyes, it would be trivial. The problem was that Haruhi didn’t know she had such power, so it was also possible we’d wind up scattered among classes.

She still didn’t know—neither about Nagato’s data-manipulation ability, nor about the kinds of things Koizumi’s Agency could accomplish.

So I was optimistic. I’ll be completely honest—next year, I hoped I got to sit in front of Haruhi again. If we got scattered, I’d probably feel the way I felt just before Christmas, when I’d discovered her disappearance. I’d be constantly wondering what she was getting up to.

On the other hand, I wondered if that might not be such a bad thing after all. Was that a self-contradiction? But again, just as Koizumi said, if that meant Haruhi’s powers were calming down, that would be good.

But wait—the truth is, I would feel a bit lonely.

“What’s your problem?” I must’ve been making a pretty introspective face. Haruhi peered down at me from the top of the stairs. “You’re acting weird. First you were smiling, and now you’re all serious. Do you have some kind of facial disorder? Or are you still dwelling on getting your butt kicked at soccer? Honestly, the boys of Class Five are totally useless.”

That was because the field positions for the tournament had been decided by lottery, I said. All the athletic guys wound up on team A. The defender line was Taniguchi, Kunikida, and me. I’ll admit it was pretty nice to be able to tackle the hell out of the Class 9 forwards, but unfortunately I couldn’t keep up with their captain, Koizumi, who kept kicking these killer passes. But even Class 9 lost to Class 6 in the next round, which was an appropriately half-assed result for Koizumi. I almost wondered if he did it on purpose, and I said as much.

“What’re you talking about?” Haruhi laughed. “But yeah, I can see Koizumi doing something like that. I mean, it is Class Nine. When guys like you and Taniguchi decide you hate the smart kids and decide to charge them, you’re gonna get hurt and look stupid. I’ll admit there are a few jerks in the class, but I like most of the Class Nine students just fine.”

She’d liked them well enough to transport all of them to a different school with her. Oh, wait, no—that had been Nagato’s doing.

As I was untangling the threads of my memory, we arrived at the clubroom. Haruhi seemed to have forgotten to make even the slightest gesture toward politeness, and she slammed the door open without so much as knocking. “Hey, Mikuru! How’d the tournament go? And is there any cold tea? I got really thirsty playing all that volleyball. I bet I’m dehydrated.”

She strode right into the room and flopped into the brigade chief’s seat.

The rest of the brigade members had already assembled, and I was greeted by the familiar sight of Nagato and Koizumi in their usual places, with Asahina in that maid outfit that suited her so well—she could’ve been the subject of a Rembrandt or a Rubens.

“I don’t have anything cold, I’m sorry,” said Asahina, apologizing for the mistake. “Ah, shall I chill it for you? In the refrigerator?”

That’s right, this room had a fridge. It was a tiny one without a freezer box, but we’d used it to cool soft drinks back when we’d made stew. Since my main drink in here was Asahina’s hot tea, I had even less use for the refrigerator than I did for the portable gas burner.

“Nah, it’s okay,” said Haruhi generously. “That’d take too much time, and tea’s better when it’s just been brewed anyway.”

Cups of tea were quickly brought to Haruhi and me. Asahina’s facility with tea had leveled up again. Just as I was debating whether to compliment her on the improvement in one of her hospitality skills, Asahina spoke very happily.

“Cold tea… hmm, yes, I suppose I could get a refrigerator with a water cooler next time.”

What was she talking about? Sometimes I wondered whether she’d brought back knowledge from the future on any subject other than tea making, although I would never say so out loud. I didn’t want her flailing around too much. While she looked like nothing other than an adorable maid, a time traveler was a time traveler, and if Asahina got too hasty, she could easily start going on about the nature of time, and unlike Koizumi, I got a headache when I tried to think about that stuff. I wanted a break from incomprehensible diagrams.

Speaking of Koizumi, he was sitting in his own chair, playing single-player Othello.

“Now that really takes me back,” I said, looking at Koizumi’s activity. Come to think of it, this was the first board game that had been brought into the clubroom. And I’d brought it.

“Indeed. It’ll soon be a year since we all met. I was thinking it would be nice to bring things back around to the beginning.”

He’d been fairly agreeable during the soccer match, but sitting here in the clubroom, Koizumi seemed even happier, and before I could reply, he’d reset the Othello board to its original state.

Back to the beginning, eh?

I hadn’t lived so long I could really look back on the past, but they were words I could see myself saying.

As I picked up one of the magnetized Othello pieces, I looked sideways. Othello. One year ago. Those words had a very particular association in my mind, and the object of that association was sitting at a corner of the table, quietly absorbed in a book on foreign literature.

“…”

Yuki Nagato silently read her book. The first time I saw this alien-humanoid interface show something like a genuine emotion was when Asahina and I were playing Othello in this very room. The memory is very clear.

When I thought about it, I realized I hadn’t seriously played a game like this with Nagato. Unless she lost on purpose, I couldn’t imagine I’d have a chance at winning. Unlike playing against Koizumi, when I usually won. Unless that was on purpose too. Could be.

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Be all that as it may, Haruhi sat at her brigade chief’s desk and was quiet for a time. At first she used the computer—doing some web surfing was part of her routine. Of course, the first thing she did upon opening the browser was to load up the SOS Brigade’s crappy site, thereby increasing the hit counter by one. She considered this one of her duties. She’d then browse through paranormal activity sites, occasionally installing random pieces of freeware she found, such that I had no idea what was or was not on the computer anymore. Occasionally she’d run into a problem, and it was inevitably the computer club president who’d be called in to help. I guess it was nice to have the right man for the job.

The lovely, pre-spring afternoon, with everybody assembled and relaxing, just a little bit tired from the sports tournament—it felt pretty nice.

My Othello game was going well, and Asahina’s tea was delicious. I would be able to pass the rest of the day uneventfully and go home without incident.

—Or at least, that would’ve been nice, but such peaceful days do not last forever.

Back to the beginning.

Yes, that was what I found myself wanting to mutter when the client came right into the SOS Brigade.

That’s right, a client. It wasn’t somebody we’d arranged to have come, nor was it the result of one of Haruhi’s unplanned fancies.

After knocking, the client timidly entered the room, like a tiny deer invited to a bear’s den, then said something calculated to delight Haruhi.

There was a place near her house where ghosts were rumored to emerge, she said. She wanted to know if we could look into it.

“Ghosts?!” Haruhi parroted, her eyes shining. “Emerging, you say?”

“Yes,” said Sakanaka, nodding seriously. “It’s a rumor in my neighborhood. That there are ghosts.”

Sakanaka… I couldn’t remember her first name, but she was a classmate of Haruhi’s and mine in Class 5. Sakanaka sat down on the folding chair we used for guests, accepting some tea from Asahina, her face clouded as she explained.

“It’s only recently that the story started. Maybe three days ago. I’d been thinking something weird was happening…”

She tilted the guest-use-only teacup to her lips, looking bemusedly around the room—particularly at the clothing rack containing all of Asahina’s costumes.

I thought back to Haruhi’s volleyball matches. On the girls’ A team there had been a particular setter who’d supported Haruhi the attacker very well—it was this girl, Sakanaka.

To be perfectly honest, she’d never made much of an impression on me in class. Or rather, the most impression-leaving person in Class 5 had been Asakura, but she’s gone now, and nobody had really risen up to take her place. I wasn’t even sure who our class rep was. When I thought about it that way, Taniguchi and Kunikida were closer to Haruhi than the rest of our class was. To put it in terms of distance from Earth, they were Mars, but she was Uranus.

However, Haruhi didn’t care about details like intra-class distance one bit.

“I’d just love to hear the details. Ghosts… yes, ghosts. Sakanaka, are you absolutely sure there are ghosts? If so, it is no overstatement to say that the SOS Brigade must unquestionably spring into action!”

She looked ready to slap on an armband that said, “Paranormal Investigator,” head to the scene, and start stringing up black-and-yellow DO NOT ENTER tape.

“Wait. Please, Suzumiya—wait!” said Sakanaka hastily, waving her hands. “I’m not positive there are ghosts. It just seems… ghost-ish, I guess? Something like that. It’s only a rumor. But I do think that spot is strange…”

Sakanaka was now the focus of everyone else in the room, including Nagato. Suddenly realizing our collective gaze was on her, she shrank back.

“Um… maybe I shouldn’t have said anything…?”

“No, you totally should have, Sakanaka!” shouted Haruhi. “Whether they be demons or vengeful spirits, suicides or playful ghosts, I don’t care! If it means I can meet a ghost, I’ll buy a ticket anywhere. Anyway, I can’t hear a story like that and then just sit around doing nothing.”

Of course, she pretty much never sat around doing nothing, I pointed out.

“Kyon, I’ll ask you to keep your smart-aleck mouth shut for once. We’re talking about ghosts here! Don’t you want to see one? Have you ever seen one?”

I had not. And I wanted to continue that forever, I said.

With the energy of a kindergartener who’d woken up from her afternoon nap only half an hour earlier, Haruhi said, “But if one happened to appear in front of me, I’d really want to talk to it a little!”

Sorry. I wouldn’t.

I looked away from Haruhi’s burning gaze, turning my eyes to Sakanaka, who seemed like she wanted to say something, then kept suddenly closing her mouth.

Why had Sakanaka brought this ghost case to us all of a sudden, right here at the very end of the school year? She was only our second client. After Kimidori… after Kimidori had come to us for the consultation session that led to the cave-cricket incident, I’d torn down our “clients wanted” poster and thrown it in the garbage, which seemed to have worked, since we hadn’t had another student coming and mistaking us for a general-purpose troubleshooting agency. Had Sakanaka seen the poster while it was up on the bulletin board and remembered it all this time? If so, she should probably have been using that excellent memory to remember something a little more worthwhile.

I said as much, and much to my surprise, Sakanaka shook her head.

“No, that’s not it. I remembered something else. Someone had handed it to me, and I hadn’t thrown it away; I just put it in a drawer in my house. That was what reminded me…”

Sakanaka produced a single piece of paper from her book bag. It was old and crumpled, and when Asahina saw what it was, she backed away from it like a vampire from a cross.

“Th-that’s…”

It was the source of Asahina’s trauma and the fruit of the SOS Brigade’s very first activity, despite being a simple flyer produced by wasting school copier resources.

It contained the SOS Brigade’s declaration of founding.

This was what I was sure was written on the flyer:

“We, the SOS Brigade, are searching for the world’s mysteries. People who’ve experienced mysterious phenomena in the past, are currently experiencing mysterious phenomena, or plan to experience mysterious phenomena in the future should come to us for a consultation. We will help you find resolution. It’s true.”

Two bunny girls had stood at the school gate to pass out that flyer as part of Haruhi’s effort to seize the world’s mysteries.

This was ridiculous. To think the seed she planted with that flyer would eventually bear fruit.

And just when the school year was about to end without incident too. Who had wished for this curtain call? We didn’t have an encore prepared. This was no time to be going back to the beginning.

As though she’d picked up on Asahina’s and my feelings, Sakanaka sounded uneasy. “… This is the SOS Brigade, right? It’s pretty famous now… That’s what you and your friends do, right, Suzumiya? Like in horror movies and stuff.”

Sorry, Sakanaka. We didn’t have anybody who specialized in horror. All we had was an alien bookworm, a mystery-loving esper, and a time traveler who was pretty easy on the eyes. If we had a genre, it was probably sci-fi. And even that much would be beyond me.

I’d fallen into silence. Haruhi spoke up against me, more and more excited. “See, Kyon! People are paying attention. It wasn’t a waste at all. I knew those flyers were a good idea.”

I wondered about that. I had a suspicion that Haruhi herself had forgotten she’d made them until now.

“Cheer up, Sakanaka! You’re a classmate, so we’ll take on this case for free.”

To be completely truthful, no matter who came to us with a case, Haruhi would never ask for money. For her, the greatest reward was the fact of having a mystery to solve at all. She was satisfied as soon as the client walked in the door. I knew that perfectly well thanks to the cave-cricket incident last year.

“Ghosts, huh?” Haruhi smiled lazily. “The last thing we’ll do is banish them, but before we do that we’ll need to hear everything about them. We’re gonna need a camera for documentation and a video camera for interviews.”

She was getting really into it, totally ignoring me and the other brigade members. This was bad. At this rate, ghosts might actually start appearing. Except what about Sakanaka’s story?

Ghost sightings were the result of people’s easily confused sense of vision being mistaken, or hearing something that was just actually dry grass under a willow tree rustling. If a real ghost actually showed up, it’d mean the upending of all of humanity’s accumulated scientific knowledge.

Even Sakanaka wasn’t sure. “Please, just wait a minute,” she said. “I don’t know for sure that it’s a ghost. I might be wrong. I just can’t think of anything else…” Her resolve was starting to sound half-baked.

“Hey, Haruhi,” I interrupted hastily, since Haruhi had already started hurrying toward the equipment closet. “Calm down, okay? Let’s listen to what Sakanaka has to say. The situation isn’t that simple.”

“Don’t get in my way,” grumbled Haruhi, but she returned to her desk and folded her arms. Neither Sakanaka nor I could hide our relief. Now I finally had time to check Nagato’s and Koizumi’s expressions.

I probably shouldn’t have looked.

Neither of them looked any different from normal. In other words, Koizumi had his usual meaningless smile, and Nagato’s expression was totally blank. Like always.

However, both of them were watching Sakanaka, apparently keenly interested in her. For some reason I got the sense that matching words were written on both their faces.

—Ghosts? What is this person talking about?

Or something along those lines.

Now then, while I’m giving my views on things, I should say that I don’t believe in ghosts. I’m firmly convinced that those “paranormal documentaries” you see on TV are nothing more than well-crafted entertainment.

Of course, this conviction is like a house built in the sand, given that I’d found myself stuck in a group with an alien, a time traveler, and an esper, and spent a lot of time getting involved in all sorts of supernatural nonsense.

So somewhere in my mind I felt it was entirely possible that a ghost, phantom, or wraith might decide to pop out of somewhere if it got the notion to do so. But just as I’ve never met a person from another dimension, I’ve never so much as said hello to a ghost, and since there’s no point in worrying about a being you’ve never met, I sprinted away from such concerns. If they were going to come, then let them come! But I wasn’t going to go looking for them. Does my lot in life make any more sense now?

But really, all I could do was act aloof. And as for the other members—

“Ghosts, you say? How interesting.” Koizumi put a finger to his chin, apparently deep in thought.

“Um… is that, er…?” Asahina looked imploringly at the client with questioning eyes.

Nagato, as usual:

“…”

It seemed that, save Haruhi, the entire brigade felt the same way I did—neither Nagato, Koizumi, nor Asahina really had much of a serious expression on their faces upon hearing the word “ghost.” Asahina in particular looked as if she barely had any conception of what the term meant. Perhaps traditions like religion and ancestor worship don’t exist in the future. I’d have to ask about that later. Not that she would tell me.

I might not have been the most outgoing person in the world, but it wasn’t like the only people in Class 5 I talked to were Haruhi, Taniguchi, and Kunikida; I exchanged small talk with plenty of my other classmates, although admittedly the range of communication I used was somewhat more constricted when that classmate was a girl.

Groping around the inside of my brain, I could find no memories of having talked to Sakanaka, so it was hard to be sure, but I had the feeling that she wasn’t exactly a conversationalist.

So I’ll just relate the highlights of the conversation.

“Um, the first time I noticed something was strange was with Rousseau,” said Sakanaka, facing Haruhi.

“Rousseau?” said Haruhi, brows knitting.

“Yes. Rousseau is my family’s dog.”

That dog sure had a hell of a name.

“I take him for a walk every morning and evening. When I first got him, I used to take him on all sorts of different routes, but now I do the same walk every time. I’ve just totally gotten used to it—”

That wasn’t really important, I pointed out.

“Sorry. But it might be important.”

Which part, I wanted to know.

“Shut up, Kyon,” said Haruhi. “Sakanaka, please continue.”

“I was on the same route as always, and Rousseau was happily walking along, but th-then…” She stumbled over her words, speaking quietly. Was she performing a ghost story now?

“About a week ago, Rousseau started hating that path. He’d pull on the leash, like this—”

Sakanaka made a pose like an animal clinging to the ground. It looked just like Shamisen did when he didn’t want to move from a warm spot.

“He’d get like this, and he wouldn’t budge. He’d be fine halfway but then suddenly stop. It seemed so strange. And it was always like that. So I changed the route I used.”

Having gotten that far in her story, Sakanaka sipped some tea.

So her dog with the philosopher’s name had suddenly started hating the route by which he was walked. So where did ghosts enter the story?

My question was Haruhi’s question, evidently.

“What about the ghosts?”

“Like I said.” Sakanaka set down her teacup. “I don’t know if there are ghosts. It’s just a rumor.”

I told her we’d like to hear the source of the rumor.

“There are many. Lots of people have dogs in my neighborhood. I often chat with them when I’m out walking Rousseau, and he’s happy to see his friends, so I’ve gotten to know a lot of people in the area. The first was Mrs. Anan with her two shelties. She said the same thing, that when she walks them, she doesn’t even try to go down that street. Because her dogs started refusing to go.”

But humans could walk by without feeling anything? I asked.

“That’s right. I didn’t feel anything weird.”

We were getting off topic, I said. What was important was the notion of ghosts.

“Right, yes.” Sakanaka’s face clouded. “Since that day, none of the neighborhood dogs will approach that area. All the owners are talking about it. There used to be some stray cats there too, but they’ve all disappeared…”

Haruhi was listening carefully. She had a pen and paper as though to take notes, but when I sneaked a look, all she’d drawn were some scrawled dogs and cats. Then, she seemed to seize upon the rough logical progression.

“So what you’re saying is that there’s a ghost in the area, which is why animals won’t go near it? That only cats and dogs can see it, and it’s invisible to humans?”

“Yes. That’s the story that’s going around.” Sakanaka nodded firmly. “There’s another thing that bothers me. There’s a girl named Higuchi, and she has a bunch of dogs. Her puppies are friends with my dog.” She sounded terrified as she continued. “But one of them has gotten sick recently. He wasn’t out for a walk this morning. I didn’t have time to hear the details, but apparently he’s been taken to an animal hospital.” Sakanaka implored Haruhi with serious eyes. “Don’t you think that sounds like a ghost, Suzumiya?”

“Hmm, well…” Haruhi rested her chin on her folded arms, narrowing her eyes as she thought about it. She seemed to be thinking that there wasn’t much to this story, and that it would be a lot more interesting if there were ghosts involved. “At the present, I can’t be sure.”

It was a surprisingly prudent answer coming from Haruhi, but then the corner of her mouth quirked.

“But there’s a large possibility it is! They do say that dogs and cats can see things humans can’t. And maybe Mr. Whatever’s dog saw a ghost and got sick, then passed out from the shock.”

I couldn’t exactly raise my hand and shout, “Objection!” to this. After all, I saw Shamisen staring intently at a corner of the room with nothing in it all the time. I’m pretty sure most cat owners would agree with me, but who knows. But unlike dogs, even if a cat did see a ghost, it wouldn’t fall ill from the shock. The cat owners out there know what I’m talking about.

As I was summoning the memory of the calico cat at my house, Haruhi jumped out of her chair. “I’ve got the gist of things.”

The only “gist” I had was that there was an area that cats and dogs refused to enter, I said.

“That’s more than enough. There’s nothing more to be gained in hypothesizing. We should head immediately to the scene. There must be something there that’s making animals sense danger—like a ghost, ghoul, or demon.”

Or something even worse. Imagining the formless monsters that roamed communistically around nineteenth century Europe gave me a chill. Depending on how we communicated with it, we might be able to lead a ghost to enlightenment, whereas with a ghoul or a demon we might need to find a Ghostbuster or a demon postbox. But what if some unnameable cosmic horror emerged to possess us—what then?

I naturally looked toward Nagato when the thought occurred to me.

Our last client had been Kimidori, the student council secretary, and she’d been connected to Nagato. Perhaps Sakanaka was too…

But I quickly abandoned this notion, because Nagato was looking up from her book, her interest surprisingly drawn by Sakanaka’s story. On her pale white face was an expression only I could read—I was quite proud of myself for this. Her expression was shifted one micron toward looking contemplative. Which meant that the story Sakanaka was sharing with us was an irregularity, from Nagato’s perspective.

I took the opportunity to check Koizumi’s expression. When I caught his eye, he shrugged minutely and smirked. Annoyingly, he seemed to have discerned exactly what I wanted to say. This isn’t my doing, his posture conveyed, and I hated myself for knowing Koizumi well enough to read his body language so well.

As for the third party’s state, it went without saying. Everything about Asahina broadcasted the fact that she had nothing to do with this—she could barely keep up with the conversation. Even if the source of the ghost-whatever had something to do with time travel, Asahina wasn’t involved—excluding Asahina the Elder, of course.

“All right, everyone,” Haruhi said spiritedly. “We’re heading out! Bring the camera, and… well, I guess we don’t have any ghost-capturing equipment. I wish we had some paper talismans with Tangut writing on them.”

“What we need is a city map,” added Koizumi, aiming his smile at Sakanaka. “I’d like to do some interviewing. Can I ask for the cooperation of your dog, Rousseau?”

It looked like Koizumi was on board. We hadn’t found any mysterious phenomena during our citywide patrols, but now we had a specific spot that we could jump straight into.

“Sure.” Sakanaka nodded at Koizumi’s handsome face. “If it’s during one of Rousseau’s walks.”

Asahina blinked her eyes in surprise. “Oh, um, I had better get changed.” She hastily smoothed her maid outfit. Asahina seemed to be worried that if she didn’t hurry and change, she’d get dragged out wearing what she had on, and Haruhi was certainly capable of doing so.

“Good point, Mikuru. You do need to change. That outfit’s not suited to this at all,” said Haruhi reasonably.

“N-no, it’s not,” said Asahina, sounding relieved as she reached up to take the kerchief off her head.

Which meant that it was time for Koizumi and me to make ourselves scarce. Whether or not I got to, I definitely wasn’t going to let Koizumi get a free peek.

I was turning to leave the room when Haruhi said something unexpected.

“But you’re not going to change into your school uniform.”

“Wha?” Asahina made a noise of confusion as I walked past her, as Haruhi strode over to the hanger rack. She cheerily selected an outfit and pulled it out. “Here, this one! This is perfect for dealing with ghosts, right?”

The outfit that Haruhi had produced involved a white robe and scarlet hakama trousers. It was one of the classic costumes of old Japan.

Asahina couldn’t help backing away.

“Um… that is…”

“It’s a shrine maiden!” Haruhi smiled the special smile she reserved for when she’d had a really great idea, pushing the outfit against Asahina. “This is perfect for exorcisms! I don’t have any priest robes, and even if I did I’d have to shave your head to make you look right in ’em, and I’d feel kinda bad about that. What do you think, Kyon? I don’t pick costumes without thinking about it! Look, this is gonna come in handy!”

I wondered whether a maid or a shrine maiden would draw more attention leaving the school, but before I could voice my reaction, Koizumi and I were shooed out of the clubroom door and into the hallway.

From inside the room, I heard the familiar sound of Haruhi’s delight at making Asahina change, mingled with Asahina’s adorable cries of dismay at the same.

I figured I might as well take the opportunity to ask.

“Koizumi.”

“Yes? I’ll just say up front that there’s nothing obvious that comes to mind when I hear the word ‘ghost.’ ” Koizumi brushed his hair aside with a finger, smiling placidly.

“So what the hell is it?”

“I can’t say anything for certain at the moment. It would be pure conjecture.”

Conjecture’s fine, I told him. Just give it to me.

“The situation is that all the neighborhood dogs have started avoiding a certain location. So here’s a quiz for you: what is it that animals, and dogs in particular, are much better at than humans?”

“Sense of smell.”

“Exactly. There is a possibility that somewhere along the course where Sakanaka used to walk her dog, something that gives off a scent that dogs hate is buried.” Koizumi pushed a wisp of hair behind his ear and continued, his smile never wavering. “One possibility is that there’s some kind of chemical weapon in the area. It might have fallen there while being transported by a paramilitary organization.”

That was ridiculous. They wouldn’t carry chemical weapons on the back of a little truck where it could easily fall off, I pointed out.

“Another possibility would be radiation. Of course, I’m not sure how sensitive animals are to atomic radiation.”

Forget all this talk about chemical weapons. An unexploded bomb seemed more likely to me, I said.

“Indeed, that is also possible. Or if we’re speaking more realistically, perhaps a bear came down out of the mountains and is hibernating in the area, and the dogs can sense that it’s about to awaken…”

No way. There might be wild boars in the mountains around town, but there weren’t any bears, I said.

“Essentially,” Koizumi said, folding his arms elegantly, “given the vague information we have now, we can think of any number of possibilities. The one and only way to see through to the truth will be a combination of gathering all the evidence, using logical inference and lateral thinking, and adding a little bit of gut instinct to direct our actions. The most important one of those is having definite information. Have we gotten all the clues available? Being sure of that is no easy task.”

If he wanted to give a lecture on mystery-solving methods, he should’ve been doing it at the mystery club. We weren’t going to figure anything out by just thinking about it. With something like this, it was just as Haruhi said—we were going to have to go to the scene and look for anything strange. It’d be obvious once we got there. If she decided to start digging, we might wind up excavating ancient coins from back when Himiko was the first empress of Japan, which would bring archaeologists from miles around—I didn’t really want to think about that, but anyway, if he wanted to do another mystery plot, he should wait until our next club trip, I told him.

“Revealing the truth via pure deduction is the epitome of the mystery genre. There’s no fun in an incident whose cause is obvious upon quick investigation.”

As he was speaking incomprehensibly, Koizumi removed himself from leaning on the door to the clubroom and stepped aside.

At the same time, the door opened, and through it bravely strode our brigade chief, dragging Asahina behind her.

“Preparations complete! You look great, Mikuru! You’ll be able to banish any spirit you like with this on!”

“Mmn…”

Out came Shrine Maiden Asahina, timidly looking down as she stepped forth. I hadn’t seen this event since the hinamatsuri event on March 3.

I didn’t know when it had been made, but wearing that priestess outfit, Asahina was even carrying a ceremonial staff. If she waved it around and chanted the appropriate prayers, unquiet spirits weren’t the only things that would be sent to heaven. She was adorable.

Behind them followed Sakanaka, shaking her head as if to say, “You didn’t have to go to these lengths,” and then Nagato, herself walking like a ghost that happened not to be transparent. Our preparations to depart the school were complete.

I wanted to think that there wouldn’t be any actual exorcisms, mostly because of the person on whom we’d foisted the duty. If the part-time shrine maiden cosplayer waved her staff around and actually pulled it off, I’d feel like we’d owe the actual sorcerers and diviners of the Heian period an apology.

Heck, spring was here. This time of year could drive cats and dogs a little crazy. Who’s to say humans were any different?

At least, that’s what I would’ve liked to think.

Unfortunately, when Haruhi gets that look of anticipation on her face, the odds of us getting wrapped up in something totally bizarre are very good. On top of that, lately Koizumi, Asahina, and Nagato had been bringing their own incidents to the fore, and it was enough to make me think that maybe I should be causing some trouble of my own.

Of course, such thoughts were folly, as I was the only member of the brigade without ties to some crazy organization.

As I thought about today’s events, I considered that the girl who’d brought this case to us seemed like a totally normal, dog-loving girl no matter how I looked at her, and I simply couldn’t imagine her dreaming up a prank where she led us to a haunted street, so there was no way an actual ghost would show up. If there really were obvious spirits that Asahina could banish wandering around the city, I got the feeling that they would’ve made it to the clubroom long ago. And for one thing, this was the wrong season for ghosts, anyway; the Bon Festival wouldn’t happen for another few months.

Such were my thoughts as I rested my eyes by gazing at Asahina in her shrine-maiden costume.

Man.

I never thought for one second that something even harder to explain than a ghost would appear in front of us.

To get to Sakanaka’s house, we walked down the hill from school to the local train stop, got on the train, switched to a main line, and took it another stop to her neighborhood. It was the opposite direction from the station the SOS Brigade used as its usual meeting point, so I wasn’t familiar with the area, but as I recalled, it was a pretty high-class residential district.

Even people who didn’t live there knew the place’s name was famous for having a lot of celebrities and so on, from what I’d heard, and it proved that Sakanaka was a real high-class girl. Her father was an executive at some construction or architecture firm, and her brother was studying medicine at a big-name university, and it was hard for me to believe I was learning this about a classmate of mine so late in the term.

“It’s really not that big of a deal!” said Sakanaka on the train, waving her hands humbly. “The company where my dad works isn’t that big, and my big brother’s at a public university.”

That just said to me he was smart enough not to waste his money. But anyway—

Sakanaka’s brother got called “big brother” by his younger sister. It made me feel pleasantly nostalgic, hearing those words.

I thought of my little sister’s giggling face and looked around the train.

Since we were all on our way to Sakanaka’s home, we were traveling in a group. I got the feeling that our group—the entire SOS Brigade plus one classmate—was just a bit too big for people to think we were just friends heading home, but we still didn’t stick out too badly on the train. For one thing, the train was filled with other students commuting home. Students from Koyoen Academy were especially numerous—honestly, the train was packed with ’em—and we North High students were forced into a corner by their private-school girl powers and their curious gazes.

“Umm…”

The reason for the stares was Asahina, who was on the verge of tears as she hung on to a strap in the train car.

To be fair, there was no way a shrine maiden on a crowded train car wasn’t gonna get stared at, and when you consider that even a real shrine maiden doesn’t commute in the white kimono and crimson trousers, it would’ve been weirder if she weren’t getting any attention.

Of course, Asahina had ridden a train and run around a shopping area wearing a bunny-girl costume in the past, and I hoped she found the lack of exposed skin at least some consolation.

Of course, the culprit responsible for forcing Asahina into the shrine-maiden clothing, Haruhi, was totally ignorant of the curious gazes of her fellow train riders.

“Mikuru, spells or chants to use on evil spirits will probably come in handy—do you know any?”

“… N-no, I don’t…” Asahina answered quietly, curling in on herself even more.

“I guess I’m not surprised,” said Haruhi, who in contrast to the humiliated Asahina was totally cheerful. She turned to Nagato. “Have you read anything about demon-banishing or exorcism in those books of yours?”

“…”

Nagato had been staring out the window at the passing scenery, but she slowly inclined her head. She moved it back, taking about two seconds to do so.

I felt like I understood what she was trying to say, and so did Haruhi.

“Huh. Okay,” Haruhi said agreeably. “I guess it’s no surprise you don’t remember those kinds of details. But don’t worry; I know one, so I’ll just have you chant that one, okay, Mikuru?”

What was she gonna make Mikuru chant? If it wound up summoning something weird, she’d better be the one to take responsibility for it and not Mikuru, I said.

“That’s stupid,” said Haruhi delightedly. “If I knew something that awesome, I would’ve used it a long time ago! No, actually I tried it in middle school. I bought a book of black magic and did just what it said. But nothing happened. In my experience, everything written in books you can get via the usual distribution channels is worthless. Oh, I’ve got a great idea.”

For just a moment, I thought I saw a lightbulb flicker on in the air above Haruhi’s head. Apparently she’d thought of another terrible idea.

“Next time we go on a city patrol, we should visit some used bookstores and antique shops. We’ll target dingy old shops with suspicious owners and look for real magic books or ceremonial artifacts. Like the kind where a genie appears when you rub it!”

That’d be all well and good if it were the kind that just grants your three wishes, then disappears politely back into its bottle, but knowing Haruhi, we’d release some kind of dark god that would try to plunge the world into terror. Somehow all this talk of banishing evil spirits had turned into the precise opposite of that, and all I could do was quietly hope that all the vintage bookstores and antique shops in the city would close before she discovered them.

Standing next to me, Koizumi chuckled as though he’d read my mind. Since both his hands were full—one with his own book bag and one with Asahina’s—he wasn’t able to hold on to a strap, and thus swayed with the train’s movement. Incidentally I also carried an extra bag over my shoulder; it contained Asahina’s school uniform. I wanted her to at least be able to change into it before she went home. If she’d left it in the clubroom, she’d be forced to either come to school tomorrow wearing the shrine-maiden costume or skip school entirely. And if she skipped school, who was going to make tea in the clubroom?

“Do not worry,” said Koizumi easily. “While I might not be able to make tea, Asahina’s school commute is simple. I can simply send a car to take her to and from,” he continued, shutting me up.

I imagined the “car” he mentioned would be something connected with the Agency. If it were just Arakawa, that would be fine, but I got a strange feeling from Mori, whose age I’d never been able to determine. It was enough to make me wonder if she were actually Koizumi’s superior. And I’d feel even less comfortable if it were someone besides those two. And while I still owed the Agency for helping out when Asahina’d been kidnapped, I didn’t want to owe them any more, I said.

Koizumi chuckled again. “I’ll make sure to tell Mori about that. I’m sure it will make her grin.”

The train bumped and swayed, and then began to slow. Our station would be coming up soon.

Now was not the time to be worrying about the organizational map of the Agency, nor the agenda of Haruhi’s next citywide patrol.

I wondered what we would find on Sakanaka’s dog’s walking route.

Once we disembarked from the train, we wound up heading back toward the hills, led by Sakanaka. However, unlike the road that led to North High, it was a comparatively less steep city street, and everybody we saw walking on it was somehow fashionable. Fortunately, our group with its shrine maiden did not have to answer any unpleasant questions from an overzealous police officer as we made our way to Sakanaka’s house, which took about fifteen minutes.

“Here we are.”

Looking at the building to which Sakanaka pointed so easily was enough to make me mutter a few choice words regarding the unfortunate circumstances of my own birth—that’s how grand of a house it was. Everything about the three-story building exuded an aura of “a wealthy person lives here,” from the outer walls to the entryway to the open, grassy lawn.

While it didn’t have the magnitude of sheer area that Tsuruya’s purely Japanese-style mansion has, even a common high school student like me could feel its modern grandeur. There was a security company’s label next to the family nameplate, and two very nice domestic cars were parked under a roofed garage, with space left over for a third. I wondered how many good deeds I would have to perform to be reborn into a place like this.

As I was standing there feeling sort of discouraged, Sakanaka pushed open the front gate and beckoned Haruhi inside. Haruhi being Haruhi, she strode on in as if she belonged there, with Nagato, Koizumi, and Asahina following. I brought up the rear.

“Wait just a moment.” Sakanaka produced a key from her book bag, slotting it into the keyhole of the door to the house’s entryway. The door had three separate locks. “It’s kind of a pain,” said Sakanaka as she unlocked them with practiced ease. I wondered if nobody was home, but no—evidently her mother was in. I guess they just tended to keep the doors locked.

Haruhi looked out over the yard. “Where’s the dog?”

“Mmm, he’ll be here in a second.”

No sooner had Sakanaka opened the door—

“Arf!” cried the white ball of fur that came bounding out the front door. He wagged his short tail like crazy as he jumped up at Sakanaka’s skirt.

“Wah… He’s so cute…” Asahina squatted down, her eyes shining. The white dog put his paw in her offered hand, then ran circles around the shrine maiden, round eyes gleaming. I had no doubt that there was a certificate somewhere of his purebred lineage.

“Rousseau, sit.”

The well-trained dog sat immediately upon hearing his master’s command. Asahina rubbed Rousseau’s head. “Um, can I hold him?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Asahina clumsily picked up the little dog, and little Rousseau whiffled while licking this new person’s face. If I could be reborn as a dog like this in my next life, being a dog wouldn’t be so bad.

“This is Rousseau? He’s like a little battery-powered toy! What kind of dog is he?” asked Haruhi, petting the head of the well-bred and well-mannered dog that Asahina held.

“He’s a West Highland White Terrier, I believe,” said Koizumi, beating Sakanaka to the tongue-twisting breed name in a shameless attempt to pander to her.

“You know quite a bit,” said Sakanaka, looking down fondly at the little guy Asahina held. “Isn’t he cute?”

He was pretty cute. With his curly white fur and partially hidden black eyes, he looked like a stuffed animal. In breeding and social caste, he was far removed indeed from the former alley cat that wandered around my house these days. Although Shamisen did have his virtues, as a cat.

Nagato stared intently at the white terrier for around ten seconds, as though she herself were Shamisen, but eventually seemed to lose interest in him and turned her gaze elsewhere. Hmm, it seemed that the number of things in which she was interested was low, and this dog was not among them.

“C’mon, Mikuru, how long are you going to hog him for? I wanna play with him too!”

At Haruhi’s words, Asahina reluctantly handed over Rousseau, who seemed to be excited at the prospect of so many new people, and he leaped into Haruhi’s arms. Her way of holding him was rather clumsy too, but he seemed not to care, wagging his tail anyway.

“He’s so fluffy! Aren’t you, Jean-Jacques?”

C’mon, Haruhi, don’t go giving other people’s dogs nicknames, I wanted to say, but before I could—

“Ha ha! Suzumiya, that’s the same nickname my dad uses on him.”

Somehow Haruhi had managed to have the same sense of humor as Sakanaka’s father, and she unconcernedly lifted the dog-with-a-philosopher’s-name above her head. “So, Jean-Jacques here sniffed something out along his walking route, did he? Is that right?”

She was addressing the dog, but of course he didn’t answer and instead merely wagged his tail. His owner nodded.

“Yes. Well, but I don’t know if it’s anything mysterious or not. It’s not just Rousseau, though, it’s other dogs too, and it freaks me out. Which is where the ghost rumor came from.”

It seemed to me that Sakanaka and her various dog-owning acquaintances were jumping to conclusions, but since I knew of the existence of beings just as mysterious as ghosts—aliens, time travelers, and espers, for example—maybe that’s just what you’d expect me to think. But Nagato, Asahina, and Koizumi were all physical beings that you could see with your eyes. What was invisible, yet caused dogs to freak out? A genuine unquiet spirit? Surely not.

After that, Sakanaka invited us into her house to have some tea, but Haruhi turned the invitation down, wanting to head to the mysterious place in question as soon as possible, and when Sakanaka went inside to change, she passed by her mother, who’d come out into the entryway. No matter how I looked at her, Sakanaka’s mother seemed more like a beautiful older sister in her speech, dress, and manner. Astonishing.

Sakanaka’s stunning mother regarded Asahina’s shrine-maiden-outfit-clad form curiously, laughing musically as she heard what occasioned our visit, and suggested that her daughter tended to spoil little Rousseau a bit too much. Haruhi, true to form, had no problem dealing with such an impressive lady, whereas I stood there stunned, feeling as though I should apologize for dirtying her beautiful home’s entryway with my filthy feet.

Mrs. Sakanaka informed us that we would all be welcome to come inside when we returned, and somehow just at the right moment, Sakanaka herself emerged, having changed into normal clothes.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!”

I supposed one had to get dressed up for early spring walks around the neighborhood.

We left our things at the Sakanaka residence, and the six of us plus one dog left the house. Was I the only one who felt a little relieved? I wondered.

For some reason, it was Haruhi who wound up at the vanguard, holding Rousseau’s leash as she headed straight out into the street.

“Okay, J.J., let’s go!”

Just as I was feeling irritated at her persistent use of the nickname, she started trotting ahead. J.J. Rousseau seemed unworried by the fact that he’d only just met the person holding his leash, which made me wonder about dogs’ reputations as humanity’s constant watchful companions through the ages.

“Ah, Suzumiya, not that way! This is the route we walk, over here!”

Sakanaka was behind them, scoop and doggy bag in hand, and she stopped and waited for the smiling Haruhi to return. I was beginning to think these two made a good team.

Barring sickness or eccentricity, dogs generally love walks, and Rousseau had indeed inherited that proclivity. The little white dog trotted along, and trotting happily along behind him was Asahina, whose look alone made the scene seem like something out of a fantasy story.

Incidentally, since with Haruhi holding the leash she wouldn’t have any idea where to go, somewhere along the way she handed it off to Sakanaka, behind whom the SOS Brigade formed up as we walked leisurely along.

“Which way is it? J.J., can’t you run any faster? C’mon!” Haruhi tried to come alongside Rousseau and urge him along.

“It’s too far for that, Suzumiya. We’re going on a walk, not a run,” answered Sakanaka mildly as Rousseau tugged on the leash.

Aside from Haruhi and her desire to run ahead and Asahina trailing single-mindedly behind the dog, Nagato was totally silent, and Koizumi had unfolded a city map.

I peered over at it. “What’re you doing, looking at that? Are there sightseeing points around here or something?

When asked, Koizumi took a pen out of his pocket. “I was thinking of investigating places that are difficult for dogs to approach. Even if we can’t walk to every single corner, once we have a vague idea of the territory, we should be able to figure out its shape on the map.”

I decided to leave that to the diagram-lover here. Whether or not there actually was an area dogs refused to approach, just looking at the Sakanaka family dog’s cheerful demeanor was enough to make me feel like I was out on an ordinary walk. I sort of wanted a dog of my own now. It didn’t have to be one as fancy as this guy, though. I would be happy with a mutt. I looked at Haruhi, and it seemed like she, too, had totally forgotten about all the ghost talk. She was just jumping around like a bunny, playing with Rousseau.

---

---

Our strange little group—all of us in our school uniforms save Sakanaka and one shrine maiden—faithfully traced the route of Rousseau’s daily walk. Whether or not it was normal or strange, Sakanaka seemed quite serene as she walked along the path. It felt like we were heading east. If we kept heading this way, we’d encounter the river—the same cherry tree–lined river I’d thrown that turtle into, only to pick it back up and give it to the boy in glasses. It did have a walking path that would have been the perfect place to take your dog for a walk…

Just as I was contemplating it, Sakanaka came to an abrupt stop.

“Oh. Look, see, here’s where he stops.”

Rousseau had frozen in his tracks, feet firmly planted on the asphalt. Sakanaka tugged on his leash, but he resisted and backed away.

His owner wasn’t the only person to heave a sigh of dismay at this end to our progress.

“Huh.” Haruhi’s eyes went wide as though she’d just remembered our real reason for being here. She surveyed the area. “This doesn’t seem like a particularly suspicious area.”

It was a residential neighborhood, but also close to the river, and greenery was plentiful. To the north, a mountain just about as high as North High’s mountain was visible. There weren’t bears around here, but I’d heard stories of wild boars occasionally coming down. But even so, it would be strange for them to appear in such a built-up area, and so near a train station; I’d never seen any news along those lines.

Sakanaka held the obstinate Rousseau’s leash. “Up until last week I’d continue straight on ahead here, heading up the riverbank steps and walking along the path. After walking a while, I’d come back down the steps and come home. That was the route. But a week ago Rousseau started refusing to go near the river.”

Asahina bent down and scratched the unmoving Rousseau’s ears. Looking at the white, flicking points, Haruhi grabbed her own earlobe.

“Isn’t the river pretty suspicious? Maybe it’s been polluted with toxic waste. Maybe there’s a chemical plant upstream or something!”

We North High students should know better than anyone else that there wasn’t anything like that. If you followed this river upstream, you’d run smack into the route we took to and from school. There wasn’t anything but mountains up there; it was deadly boring. It was so rural that there wasn’t even anyplace decent to buy a snack.

“About that,” said Sakanaka, explaining, “he doesn’t mind heading farther up, nor farther downstream. Higuchi and Mrs. Anan said their dogs are the same way.”

“Huh, interesting.” Haruhi watched Rousseau lick the palm of Asahina’s hand, then suddenly picked up the ball of fine white fur. “Okay, J.J.! You’re gonna guide us around this area. When we get to a point you don’t like, you just bark, got it? Here we go!”

Haruhi strode forcefully forward, but only got as far as the length of the leash held by Sakanaka—because the moment Rousseau had started to whine, his owner hadn’t taken another step forward.

She looked every bit as sad and scared as Rousseau and obviously didn’t want to see him traumatized. “I’ve never been angry with Rousseau,” she said, taking him out of Haruhi’s arms and stroking his head. “Did you know that there are dogs who die from the shock of their owners being angry at them? That’s why.”

I couldn’t believe how dog-crazy she was. Even for the spoiled daughter of a rich family, there had to be limits to such things. I wanted to make her put up my Shamisen for a night. I’m sure it would’ve been like paradise for him.

Haruhi, too, gazed at Sakanaka in surprise, her mouth half open, but Asahina seemed to agree with this, nodding emphatically. I was a little jealous of the dog having managed to steal Asahina’s heart so quickly.

“We weren’t planning on forcing him that much,” said Koizumi mildly as he cut into the conversation. The map fluttered in his hands. “Right now, we are”—he made a mark on the map in red pen—“here. The place from which dogs are sensing some sort of danger should be ahead of us. It should probably be considered an area rather than a point, but in any case, the farther we proceed, the harder it will be to narrow down the orientation of the phenomenon.”

Before I could ask him what the hell he was talking about, Koizumi gave Sakanaka a smile, like a door-to-door salesman giving a hard sell.

“Let’s head back for now. We’ll let Rousseau lead the way, and he’ll be able to enjoy a nice walk.”

Just as Koizumi suggested, we headed back down the path we’d taken, and after about five minutes of walking, we took a left at an intersection and proceeded south. The closer we got to the train station, the more people there were. Fortunately, Asahina was more interested in Rousseau than in her own outfit, so she didn’t seem too concerned about the looks she got from the passersby around us. Or maybe she’d just gotten used to going out in costume.

At the front of the group now was Koizumi, map in one hand. This was itself a fairly rare sight. He served as the trailblazer, handsome face, friendly smile, and all.

“This way next.” Having initially directed us south, Koizumi now turned our little parade east.

And then, after another five minutes of walking, Rousseau began to whine again.

“Maybe it is the river?”

The direction Haruhi pointed was the direction we were all facing, from which we could see the slope of the riverbank’s levee and the cherry trees that ran along it.

Once Koizumi established our exact location by checking some nearby addresses, he carefully marked our current spot on the map.

“And with this it starts to become clear. One more location should be enough.”

I had no idea what was becoming clear to Koizumi, but we started heading south again. This time we didn’t return to the street we’d taken to get here, rather taking a path that headed roughly toward the sea. Of course, we were nowhere near the actual sea, and it didn’t seem as though Koizumi was planning to go that far; we’d only walked this way for about five minutes. We’d walked just about as far as we had from the place Rousseau first froze to our second stop, then headed east again.

This time it didn’t even take three minutes.

Whiiiine.

For the third time, Rousseau refused to proceed. It was pretty sad, seeing the cute little stuffed animal–like dog get so upset, and I could understand why Sakanaka immediately scooped him up into her arms. It even got to me.

Asahina was agitated, Nagato was expressionless as ever, and Koizumi smiled cheerfully, as though satisfied. “I see,” he said.

He put another mark on the map, then turned toward us as if to explain that the real challenge would start here. I fully expected him to say something incomprehensible again, but I couldn’t very well keep ignoring him.

“What’s going on?” He seemed to want me to ask, so I asked. I hoped he was grateful.

“Have a look at this map.”

We all looked at the map Koizumi opened.

“The points marked in red are the points where Rousseau refused to continue. Including our position right now, there are three of them. Starting from the first one, we’ll call them points A, B, and C. Looking at them, is there anything that jumps out at you?”

What, was he giving an open-air lecture now?

I’d given up on any academic study outside of a classroom, so I refused to answer the question, but Haruhi jumped on it without so much as raising her hand.

“The distances between A and B, and between B and C, are just about the same.”

“Exactly so. That’s why I chose this particular route,” said Koizumi, satisfied at his model student. “The important concept to understand is that the individual points are not meaningful by themselves. Point B, in particular, is a mere checkpoint. Since evidence is better than theory, perhaps it would be easier to understand if I drew it.”

Koizumi took the red pen and drew quickly on the map. It was a curve that led from A to C, with B as the midpoint. There was now a small arc on the 1:10,000-scale map.

“Oh, I see how it is.” Haruhi seemed to have understood more quickly than anyone else. I had no idea.

“Kyon, don’t you get it? What do you see in this curve?”

I didn’t see anything other than a curve, I said.

“That’s why you’re so hopeless at math. You’ve got to understand this stuff intuitively. See? Koizumi, here—” Haruhi borrowed Koizumi’s red pen and dropped a new line onto the map. “I’ll extend the curve through the full sweep of its arc, and it makes a circle like this, see?”

Indeed it did. I was impressed at her ability to draw a nearly perfect circle freehand. It looked almost like the kind of mark you saw on a map that showed where the treasure was buried.

Oh. I finally understood. So that’s how it was.

“You’re saying that this circle is the area that dogs won’t enter.”

“It is merely a hypothesis,” said Koizumi. “If the area is indeed circular, then we can hypothesize it thusly. While we have no way of knowing whether the cause is a supernatural phenomenon of some kind or some kind of harmful man-made substance, this does make it a bit easier to understand.” He indicated the circle he and Haruhi had drawn. “If there is something here, the most suspicious point is the single place that’s the same distance from every point on the circle—in other words, the center. With only three points of reference, there is a sizable margin of error, but not necessarily mistaken. And that puts the center—”

Haruhi, holding the pen, beat Koizumi’s finger. “The riverbank!”

I didn’t need Haruhi to say it. The center of the circle on the map was the cherry tree–lined path that was very familiar to me, directly opposite the bench I’d sat on and had that memorable conversation with Asahina.

“Wow!” said Sakanaka, impressed. “I’m amazed you could think of something like that, Koizumi!”

“It is nothing,” said Koizumi with a smile.

Sakanaka looked keenly in his direction. I wanted to tell her she was better off staying away from him. You could never quite tell what he was thinking, plus he occasionally turned into a ball of glowing red energy.

I was about to warn her off, but I kept my mouth shut and continued to look at the map.

I got the feeling that every time something mysterious happened, I always seemed to find myself in familiar places. It was like I was being called there. I just hoped that this time I didn’t have to save a boy from being run over or deal with some foul-mouthed new character showing up. Back then it had just been Asahina and me. But now the whole gang was here. There was no telling who would do what, especially Her Excellency the brigade chief.

“Let’s go!” ordered Haruhi cheerfully. “To that mysterious spot. Sakanaka, J.J., you guys just relax and imagine you’re on a pleasure cruise. Once we’ve taken pictures of the ghost or whatever it is, I’ll be sure to exorcise it!”

“E-exorcise…?” Asahina hugged herself, apparently remembering what outfit she was wearing.

Haruhi grabbed her arm. “Now everyone, full-speed ahead!” she said, and took off running.

The spot in question was not far away, and we got there quickly thanks to Haruhi’s forced march. The mystery spot indicated on Koizumi’s map was right on the cherry tree–lined riverbank path, where the trees quietly gathered energy in preparation for their annual bloom.

Squinting at the map, Haruhi looked for the precise center, despite the fact that Koizumi’s calculations had been fairly rough, making such precision pointless.

“Maybe around here?”

“This should be roughly the location.”

In contrast to Haruhi’s intent comparison of map with landscape, Koizumi’s answer was vague.

Only the five full members of the SOS Brigade had come this far. Sakanaka and Rousseau retreated to their house—or rather, Sakanaka insisted that she “couldn’t possibly force Rousseau to go somewhere he doesn’t want to go,” and declined to accompany us. Since the dog and the girl were useful only as witnesses, neither Haruhi nor I objected to this. Although, I must admit that if we’re discussing utility, I myself was only worthwhile as an extra observer.

The one whose role was clearest was—

“Mikuru! Sorry to keep you waiting. It’s your turn now!”

“O-Okay…!”

From Haruhi’s perspective, Asahina was the only one to turn to now. That’s why she’d forced the poor girl into that shrine-maiden outfit. If we turned around and headed home now, the costume would have been totally wasted.

“B-but, um… What should I…?”

“Don’t sweat it! I’ve got everything ready. You just stand there, Mikuru. Right, and then hold this staff—”

Haruhi handed Mikuru a staff and made her take up a position in the grassy area near the river, then produced a rolled-up piece of copier paper from her skirt’s pocket. “All right, now.” Haruhi held the tremulous Asahina by the shoulders; Asahina looked beseechingly at the rest of us. “I don’t see any obvious ghosts, so let’s start the exorcism!”

“K-kanjizaibo… satsugyo…? Gyoujinhannyaa… haramiitajii… sh-shouken goun kaikuu… u…”

I was wondering what sort of “spell” Haruhi would come up with, but it was nothing—just the same Heart Sutra you could hear priests chanting at any Buddhist temple in Japan. I got the sense that the Shinto shrine maiden chanting a Buddhist sutra was sort of asking for trouble, but who was to say doubling up on religions wouldn’t double the magical effectiveness of the ritual?

As she chanted, Asahina stared intently at the paper Haruhi had brought. I felt like I wanted to beg the forgiveness of the religious workers at every shrine and temple.

Haruhi continued to act as Asahina’s assistant, flipping the phonetically transcribed pages of the Heart Sutra such that Asahina could keep reciting.

“D-d-doichi saiku yakushari… shikifu ikuukuu fuiishiki…?”

As Asahina continued to piously chant the sutra despite being a bogus shrine maiden, I took a look at the one person whose reaction I was very interested in. I think it goes without saying who that was.

---

---

“…”

With eyes as clear as glass wind chimes ringing in the night air, Nagato gazed at Asahina from behind. She didn’t look out of the ordinary, her slightly bored demeanor no different than usual. Her stillness was no different than when she was reading a book.

Maybe this meant I didn’t have to worry.

I had no intention of saying there was something here at this precise point where Asahina was employing her chanting. But instead of looking for something occult right at this point, there might be something scientific affecting the area. However, if that were the case, there’s no way Nagato wouldn’t have noticed, and there’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed her noticing. By which I mean, she would have told me. Just like she had back during the cave-cricket incident.

Perhaps becoming aware of my looking at her, Nagato first moved her eyes, then her head to look at me, then made a short comment as though having read my mind.

“There is nothing.”

No bombs or hibernating bears or atomic radiation sources or ancient coins—?

“No.”

Not even a trace?

“Nothing within my capabilities to sense,” said Nagato, as though she were reciting her times tables. “I detect no anomalous remnants.”

So why did Rousseau and the other dogs refuse to come near this area? If there wasn’t anything here, there was no reason for that.

“…”

Nagato moved her face like a wind chime stirred in a gentle breeze, looking diagonally past me.

I couldn’t help following her gaze.

“Wha?”

A tall man in sportswear was jogging up from the river’s downstream direction. I would’ve ignored him as a random jogger, but what drew my eye was the leash he held in one hand, the other end of which was attached to a collared dog. Not that a Shiba Inu was a particularly rare sight. It was a perfectly ordinary Shiba Inu.

But why was a dog here? Hadn’t this area become a temporarily dog-free zone?

“Huh?” Haruhi seemed to have noticed. Asahina, too, lifted her eyes from the text and looked up, following our gazes and falling silent at their object.

“Mucha muku… toku… Wha?”

“Oh ho.” Koizumi squinted at the dog running alongside the man.

The dog we were looking at had no trace of Sakanaka’s West Highland White Terrier’s reluctant conduct. It ran happily alongside its owner, panting steadily in its four-legged stride.

The young college-aged man and his dog regarded our far-more-suspicious group as he went to pass behind us, but then—

“Hey! Wait!” Haruhi jumped out and blocked his path. “We need to ask you something.” She eyed the dog with her palpably keen, laser-like glare. “Can we have a minute of your time? Why can that dog run around here like normal? Ah, hmm, this might take a bit of time to explain,” she said, then grabbed me by the tie and dragged me over. There, as the man looked on like he was wondering what our problem was, his dog’s tongue lolling out as it watched us, Haruhi whispered into my ear. “C’mon, Kyon, you explain this.”

Why did I have to do it?

Just as I was about to pass the baton to Koizumi, I found myself shoved by Haruhi in front of the dog and its master. Oh, well. I first apologized for disturbing his walk, then launched into the explanation. I told him that about a week ago, dogs had begun to refuse to enter this area. I explained that a friend of ours had asked us about it, and we’d thought it was suspicious enough to look into. That same dog had just minutes earlier refused to come near here. Just as we’d been sure we were close to finding something, he and his dog had come along, I told him. The clever-looking dog seemed perfectly happy, I said, but we didn’t understand why.

“Oh, that,” said the man of about twenty. He looked curiously at Asahina and her staff as he continued. “It’s true that about a week ago, this guy,” he said, pointing at the Shiba Inu, “started wanting to avoid our usual jogging course. When I’d try to get him up on the riverbank, he’d stop moving. I couldn’t figure out why.” The dog’s athletic-looking master looked slowly between Asahina and Haruhi. “But this is the best road to walk him on, so I wondered if I could make him do it somehow. So the day before yesterday—or was it three days ago? Anyway, he really resisted at first, but as you can see, he’s now happily running on his old course. He seems fine now.”

I was no vet, but as far as I could tell, the well-mannered dog sitting at his master’s feet was perfectly happy and the picture of health. He didn’t seem worried about anything at all.

“I’ll bet if your friend forced her dog a little bit, he’d be back to his old self. I don’t know what the original cause was; maybe there was a bear or something, and its scent was lingering,” said the man, echoing Koizumi’s comment. “Will that be all?”

“Thank you very much. It really helped!” Haruhi honestly thanked him.

The young man looked at Asahina’s outfit, seeming for a moment like he wanted to say something, but perhaps he wasn’t the nosy type. We were lucky he was so nice. “ ’Bye,” he said, and jogged on upriver.

Left behind were five dunderheads: me, Haruhi holding the sutra, Asahina looking like she’d gotten lost on the way to the local shrine, Nagato watching the river flow by, and Koizumi stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“So what does this mean?”

It meant just what we’d seen and heard, I said.

“What about the ghost? I was really looking forward to that.”

Shouldn’t she be admitting there wasn’t one all along?

So what was happening?

Heck if I knew.

“… You seem weirdly happy. It bugs me.”

That wasn’t fair. I always tried to keep a straight face. It wasn’t as though I was deeply relieved that her expectations hadn’t been fulfilled, and that whatever was here was now long gone, I said.

“Liar.”

Haruhi turned on her heel and walked away from me, her strides long and quick.

We put the tree-lined riverside path behind us and headed to rendezvous with Sakanaka at her house. We’d left our bags there, and we needed to deliver our report to the client.

“But, um…” Diagonally behind me walked Asahina, who spoke in a hesitant voice. “But I really wonder what was going on. Even today, Rousseau didn’t want to walk that way.”

Koizumi jumped on this. “According to the fellow we just talked to, it was three days ago that he solved the problem. We know that there was definitely something alarming dogs until that point. But now it seems there is not. The fact that according to Sakanaka, other neighborhood dogs won’t approach the area—it is probably because their memories are still making them sense danger. If that Shiba Inu’s master hadn’t forced him back onto the path, he probably wouldn’t have come near it.”

Weren’t there two kinds of dogs? Those who excelled at remembering difficult events and those who didn’t? Upon reflection, Rousseau was on the smart side of things, and that Shiba Inu had a pretty good brain too.

“…”

I felt better seeing Nagato remaining silent. If she said there wasn’t anything here, then there definitely wasn’t anything here. At the moment, I didn’t care that someone had tossed his vote in favor of the theory of a hibernating bear having left the area and returned to the mountain three days ago.

It was still the time of year when the air becomes chilly at dusk, and Haruhi’s pace brought us quickly to the Sakanaka mansion. Perhaps it wounded our brigade chief’s pride to have to tell a rare client that we hadn’t been able to figure anything out, since she was rather irritable, but knowing her personality, she’d soon recover. It was Haruhi Suzumiya’s habit not to spend time worrying about things that don’t work out, instead moving on to the next adventure.

As expected, Haruhi’s mood immediately improved upon arriving at the Sakanaka residence, where we were invited into the living room and served handmade choux à la crème pastries.

“Whoa. Yum. These are tasty. You could open a shop with these!”

The living room’s furnishings were chic and tasteful, and the sofa I sat on was so fluffy that if Shamisen got on it, he’d probably sleep for twelve hours straight. The beautiful Mrs. Sakanaka’s dog was even high-class—everything from the appearance to the aura of a wealthy person’s home was just different. I wondered if Haruhi’s personality would’ve been closer to Sakanaka’s if she’d been raised in this kind of environment.

While we were partaking of choux à la crème and Earl Grey tea, Koizumi related the details of our investigation. Sakanaka held Rousseau and stroked his head while nodding in response to the report. However, when the explanation was over, she seemed to still find something puzzling.

“I understand that it seems safe now,” she said, looking at Rousseau’s alert ears, “but seeing how scared Rousseau got earlier, I don’t think I’ll make him walk that path until he and the other neighborhood dogs don’t mind it anymore. I’d feel bad for him otherwise.”

That was certainly her decision to make as the dog owner. Rousseau was lucky to have such a considerate caretaker, although it seemed to me she spoiled him a little too much.

Delighted at Haruhi’s and Nagato’s devouring of her choux à la crème, Mrs. Sakanaka was busily making more, and for a while the topic was dominated by Sakanaka’s tales of her dog. Rousseau himself was lying on his belly beside Sakanaka, ears initially pricked and alert, but eventually his eyes began to look sleepy. Asahina adoringly watched him, a wistful sigh escaping her lips.

“You’re so lucky to have a dog…”

I wondered if pets were banned in the future, but to be perfectly honest, I’d take Asahina in my house over a pet any day. Having a maid to see me off in the morning and welcome me home—was that not the proper job of a maid? It certainly suited her better than brewing tea in a dingy clubroom.

Oh, well. I’d just leave that one in the world of my thoughts.

The day ended with us having all gone to Sakanaka’s house, playing with her dog, going on a walk, having Asahina dressed as a shrine maiden and chanting the Heart Sutra, taking choux à la crème and tea, then going home—just a normal day having fun with a classmate.

And what I expected would happen was that the mystery would go unsolved, disappearing from my memory as well as Haruhi’s…

But a few days later, something unexpected happened.

It was Friday. The school-wide sports tournament as well as final exams had come to an end, so the last thing the first-year high school students had to do was wait for spring break to start while worrying about what their class assignments would be for the next year. The graduation ceremony had happened at the end of February, and with a third of the student body gone, the school buildings were somehow quiet, although come next month they’d be filled again with fresh-faced new students, just as we ourselves had once done.

Was I now going to be called “senpai”? It was hard to imagine the SOS Brigade getting any new members, but what were Haruhi’s plans?

Sitting in the second seat from the back in the row against the windows, I yawned widely and stretched in the rays of spring sunshine that shone through.

“Kyon.” Someone sitting in the seat behind me, the last one in the row, poked me in the back with a mechanical pencil.

“What?” If she wanted me to try and persuade incoming freshmen to join, she could forget about it, I said.

“That’s not it. That’s my job, anyway. But whatever.” Haruhi gestured to the rest of the classroom with the point of her pencil. “Did you notice that Sakanaka was absent today?”

“No… Was she?”

“She was. She’s been gone since this morning.”

That was surprising. Aside from pointing out how stupid Taniguchi was, the only time Haruhi’d ever said anything about one of our classmates was during the Asakura incident, I pointed out.

“Well, we had her as a client, so I was going to ask whether her dog-walking route had returned to normal. Don’t you care? Plus, the dog was cute and those cream puffs were delicious. I’m not that forgetful, you know.”

Normally I would’ve been delighted to hear that Haruhi had finally become good enough friends with a girl in the class that she cared about where she was, but now that she mentioned it, it did bother me. After all, it was undeniably true that there was an area near Sakanaka’s house where her dog would refuse to go, and that being the case, we’d left the matter unresolved. But now she was absent from school. It wasn’t inconceivable that there was a connection, but—

“Well, the seasons are changing. Maybe she caught a cold. And it is the end of the semester, after all. If she’s ditching, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Maybe.” Happily, Haruhi agreed. “I guess if I didn’t have the SOS Brigade, I wouldn’t see any use in coming to school now. But Sakanaka seems too serious to just up and turn a normal weekday into a holiday on her calendar.”

Given that Haruhi was constantly taking holidays and making them into SOS Brigade activities, I wouldn’t have expected her to be so particular about sticking to the calendar.

“Mmm.” Haruhi held her pencil between her nose and upper lip. “Maybe we should go investigate again. I’ll have Mikuru wear a nurse outfit this time.”

Having her wear a nurse outfit without having any actual credentials was only going to cause trouble, I pointed out. And wasn’t she just after more choux à la crème?

“Idiot. I want to see J.J. Don’t you wonder what would happen if you sheared that wool-like fur off of him?”

Bored, Haruhi began spinning her pencil around her fingertips, as the bell signaling the beginning of third period rang.

After school, things started moving all at once.

I was in the clubroom playing shogi against Koizumi, Nagato was reading, and Asahina was busy making tea, wearing the maid outfit that suited her much better than the shrine-maiden one did.

Then—Haruhi barged in the room, having been delayed by classroom cleaning duties.

“Kyon, I knew it!”

Normally when she made these sorts of pronouncements, Haruhi was smiling, but that day she seemed vaguely melancholy. I had a premonition that strange things were happening.

“I figured out why Sakanaka is absent. She’s fine, but it’s Rousseau—he’s been taken to an animal hospital. But even the vet doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, so she’s really depressed. She was so upset she couldn’t come to school! I talked to her on the phone, and she sounded like she was about to cry. Her stomach’s been hurting so badly she hasn’t eaten anything, but since Rousseau isn’t eating either, it just makes her feel worse—”

“Hang on, calm down,” was all I could think of to say, but interrupting Haruhi in the middle of her sentence only got me a harsh glare—not angry, exactly, but as though I was a heartless bastard who’d abandoned a drowning child.

“What’s your problem? You’re just sitting there drinking tea while Rousseau’s in agony! J.J.’s so weak he can’t even drink water!”

If drinking tea were now a crime, then Koizumi and Asahina were my accomplices, but in any case, I wanted her to tell me just how she’d already known the circumstances in the Sakanaka household by the time she’d come barging into the room.

“I called Sakanaka’s cell phone while I was cleaning. I was just really worried about her. And then—”

That was the second surprise of the day. Since when had Haruhi been good enough friends with Sakanaka to trade cell phone numbers?

“—I knew it wasn’t any time to mess around with cleaning!” Haruhi brandished her cell phone. “There was something in that area. What I think is that whatever’s there is the cause of the sickness. I mean, Sakanaka said it herself. Other dogs in the area have been affected too.”

I’d heard that part too; I remembered it as soon as Haruhi mentioned it.

“If the symptoms are the same, then maybe…”

“The symptoms are the same,” said Haruhi flatly. “I asked her about it. She said when she went to the animal hospital, the vet said they’d gotten a similar case in a few days earlier. When she asked about it, it turned out it was Higuchi’s dog.”

Who was this Higuchi?

“Geez, Kyon, you’re so stupid! Sakanaka told us about her before. Higuchi, who has a bunch of dogs! She lives close to the Sakanaka house. Didn’t you hear that one of them wasn’t feeling well?”

Yeah, I’d just now remembered, I told her. I bet she’d forgotten all about it too until she called; it wasn’t fair that she was attacking me for it. But anyway—Rousseau was sick? He’d been so healthy.

“What’s he sick with?” I asked.

“They don’t know, she said.” Haruhi just stood there, as though she’d forgotten to sit at her brigade chief’s desk. “Apparently it’s got the vet totally stumped. There’s nothing wrong with his body, his health is just failing, and Higuchi’s Mike is the same way. They’ve just lost their appetites and collapsed. He’s not barking or sniffing and Sakanaka’s getting more and more worried.”

Haruhi glared as me as though it were my fault, then looked over the other occupants of the clubroom.

Asahina clasped her serving tray, looking stricken from worry about Rousseau. Nagato looked up from her book to Haruhi. Koizumi put the shogi piece in his hand back from where he had picked it up and spoke.

“It seems we’ll need to reinvestigate the area,” he said with a smile like a veterinarian encouraging a worried pet owner. “This is, after all, a case brought to us by Sakanaka. We cannot shut our eyes to this. You could say it’s our duty to see it through to the end.”

“Th-that’s right. We should go visit them at the hospital.” Asahina nodded her agreement with Koizumi’s stance.

“…”

Nagato closed her book and silently stood.

The entire brigade seemed to be united in its worry about Rousseau. The dog had frightening charisma to have inspired such concern in all of them over only a day’s worth of activity.

“What about you?” Haruhi glared at me, accusation in her eyes. “What’s it gonna be?”

Naturally I felt badly about the fluffy little guy being in bad shape. Unlike, say, Shamisen, he was a purebred terrier from Scotland, raised in a comfortable home his whole life—he probably wasn’t that tough.

And that aside, I was worried about the unknown cause of this affliction. I looked away from Haruhi to avoid her glare, my eyes fixing upon another person.

“…”

Yuki Nagato, who’d promised that there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary at that location, was in the middle of picking up her book bag.

After a bit of time spent waiting for Asahina to change clothes, we headed out of school, walking as fast as we could down the hill and catching a train that was literally on the verge of departing toward Sakanaka’s house. Having commenced her action, Haruhi’s mobility and command were greater than any commander in the Mongolian horde.

We arrived shortly at the expensive neighborhood, and when we got to the house, I watched Haruhi’s finger as she pressed the doorbell button.

“Coming…”

When Sakanaka emerged, it was obvious by looking at her that she was totally dispirited. Her face was weary, and her eyes were moist from recently crying.

“Come in. Suzumiya, everybody… thank you so much for…” Her words trailed off as she beckoned us in, toward the living room we’d been in before. There on the fine couch, probably in Sakanaka’s own personal spot, was Rousseau, his legs drawn in beneath him as he lay there. His white fur seemed to have lost its luster, and he rested his head on the sofa’s cushion, evidently too exhausted even to look up at the large group of people that had just entered the room. His ears didn’t so much as twitch.

“Rousseau…” Asahina immediately approached him, kneeling down and stroking his nose. His little black eyes moved, looking sadly up at Asahina, then shifted slowly away. Asahina laid the palm of her hand on Rousseau, but all he did was reflexively move his ears slightly. Whatever his affliction, it was definitely serious.

“How long has he been like this?” Haruhi asked.

Sakanaka’s voice was strained. “Probably since yesterday evening. I thought he was just sleepy, so I didn’t worry about it at the time, but when I woke up in the morning, he was still the same way. He won’t move from this spot, and he won’t eat. He couldn’t do his morning walk either. I got worried so I took him to the animal hospital, but…”

So everything Haruhi had been shouting about in the clubroom was true—that the cause was unknown, and that there was another dog with a similar problem, I said.

“Yes. Higuchi’s dog Mike. He’s a miniature dachshund and good friends with Rousseau.”

Asahina stroked Rousseau’s head sympathetically, with the special kindness of someone who believes that small animals must be treasured. Her sadness at Rousseau’s condition was obvious even to me, and as I tried to prevail over the sudden tightness in my chest—

“May I ask something?” said Koizumi. “If that’s the case, then Higuchi’s Mike should have been affected five days ago. What is Mike’s condition now?”

“I called around noon today. He said Mike’s been bad for days and still is. Since he won’t eat, he was put on an IV to get some nutrients into his body. I don’t know what I’m going to do if they have to do that to Rousseau…”

If things kept up this way, he’d just keep getting weaker. I thought about the difference between the images of the healthy, happy dog I’d seen just a few days before and the one I saw now. He suddenly reminded me of the way Shamisen would lie lethargically on the heater, but this was a dog, so his circumstances were different. I was starting to get genuinely worried.

“One more thing,” said Koizumi. “Is it just Mike and Rousseau who’ve been affected? I believe you said there are many dogs that Rousseau goes on walks with.”

“I haven’t heard if anyone else is like this. When Mike got sick, there were a lot of rumors about it, so if other dogs are sick, I’m sure I would have heard about it.”

“And this Mike, is the owner’s residence nearby?”

“Yes. It’s across the street, just three doors down. What about it?”

“Oh, nothing.” Koizumi ended his questioning.

Wilting, Sakanaka said, “I wonder if it really is a ghost. I mean, the vet at the animal hospital couldn’t figure it out…”

Haruhi furrowed her brow, her voice small and desperate. “Maybe… It is strange, isn’t it? Whether or not it’s a ghost, it’s sure no laughing matter.”

Her expression made it seem like she was regretting jumping so quickly on the idea of a ghost, dressing Asahina up as a shrine maiden and making her chant sutras. It seemed like she was thinking ruefully that a real vengeful spirit was going to take more than a costume to beat. For Haruhi, it was a serious regret.

“Hey, Yuki, can’t you do something?”

It was strange that she’d suddenly ask Nagato, but in response, the quiet girl naturally took action. She set down her book bag and moved toward Rousseau, kneeling down in the space beside the worried Asahina and looking directly into the dog’s eyes.

I held my breath and looked on.

“…”

Nagato slipped her finger beneath Rousseau’s chin and lifted up his head, looking steadily into Rousseau’s black eyes. Her eyes were even and serious, like lasers reading data directly from the surface of a DVD. Their noses were so close they were almost touching as Nagato gazed into Rousseau’s eyes, which she did for about thirty seconds.

“…”

She stood up slowly, seeming almost more ghostly than an actual ghost, and we all watched as she walked back to her original place in the room, and slowly, minutely cocked her head.

Haruhi sighed.

“You don’t know either, Yuki? I guess that’s natural. Hmm…”

I don’t know what I expected from Nagato, but evidently treating this problem was beyond the scope of Nagato’s considerable power. I supposed even aliens weren’t gods, and I slumped in discouragement—when from behind me I felt a strong presence.

I looked back. Nagato was staring at me, and after a brief moment, she nodded so imperceptibly, I doubted it was detectable on the micrometer scale. She then looked away.

Nobody should’ve noticed. Haruhi, Asahina, Sakanaka, and even Nagato were all focused on the exhausted Rousseau. But one sharp-eyed person had noticed Nagato’s actions.

“I believe we should retreat for the moment,” whispered Koizumi into my ear. “There’s nothing we can do by remaining here. Not you and not me.” Koizumi smiled quietly, then spoke again. I didn’t like him breathing on me. It felt weird. “There’s no hurry, but we mustn’t waste time. If nothing else, there’s Suzumiya’s state to consider. We need to deal with this before she takes some kind of disastrous action. And the only person who can do that is—”

I wanted to play dumb and ask him what the hell he was getting at, but for some reason, I knew exactly what he was talking about. Maybe I’m naturally smart. I didn’t know why it was so easy for me to read Nagato’s and Koizumi’s every tiny expression and still be so hopeless at exams, but this was no time to be worrying about that. And this wasn’t for Koizumi’s sake; this was for Rousseau.

It was time to get things done.

Having left Sakanaka’s house, Haruhi and Asahina were listless and absent, as though they’d left their souls back with the poor sick dog, and they remained silent on the train. Even when we got off at our station, it was like Sakanaka had been contagious and they’d caught her sadness.

As far as that went, I understood it perfectly well. It was hard seeing someone who’d once been healthy losing that health. I, too, wanted to see them running around the school, not lost in melancholy. Whether it was a person or an animal.

But it was Koizumi’s cold conclusion that as far as the dog went, there was currently nothing we laypeople could do for it.

“All we can do is watch and wait. But the animal hospital is not powerless. I expect even now they’re working on a treatment.”

I just hoped it was a sickness that could be researched and understood. But what if it wasn’t? I didn’t want to have to go to Rousseau’s funeral, I said.

“Fortunately, I know some veterinarians. I’ll do some asking around; they may have some leads.”

In spite of Koizumi’s forced attempt to cheer them up, Haruhi and Asahina had lukewarm reactions. All he got from them were murmured yeahs and okays.

We couldn’t very well sit around stewing in our own sadness forever, so eventually we decided to call it a day. Or should I say, we had to. If we hadn’t, who knows for how long we would’ve wound up staring dejectedly into space.

Haruhi and Asahina walked side-by-side down the road that paralleled the train tracks. By rights, Koizumi and I would’ve taken the same route, since it was the quickest way for us to get home, but Haruhi didn’t seem to notice our absence, and the two of them were soon out of sight.

I hate to say it, but they were in the way. It would’ve been nice if Asahina could have stayed, but the current situation was not her specialty.

Along with Koizumi and me, Nagato watched the two girls head home, then turned to return to her own apartment.

“Nagato.”

The small, short-haired girl looked back mechanically, smoothly, as though she’d expected me to call her name.

I saw her face and had a hunch. I knew it. Nagato did understand. I didn’t have to hesitate to ask her.

“What is it that Rousseau’s gotten?”

I wondered if she was going to think about it for a moment, but then Nagato spoke.

“A data life-form element.”

To that statement, I said:

“…”

Perhaps recognizing my silence as noncomprehension, Nagato amended her explanation. “A silicon-based, symbiotic data life-form element.”

“…”

In response to my continuing silence, Nagato opened her mouth to explain further, but then seemed to realize she had no other words of explanation, and so closed it.

While the two of us fell silent, Koizumi spoke.

“In other words, Rousseau has been infected by an invisible extraterrestrial life-form,” he offered.

Nagato seemed to pause for a moment, as though waiting for permission from someone. Then: “Yes.” She nodded.

“I see. So this data life-form element—may we consider it not as being invisible to the human eye, but rather having no physical form at all, instead being comprised of pure data?”

“You may.”

“Is it similar to the Data Overmind in that regard? Like the network infection that spread to the computer club president?”

“The Data Overmind is on a completely different level from this subspecies. It is far more primitive.”

“Are there any comparisons at all? If you compare the Data Overmind to a human, then what would be analogous to this silicon-based, symbiotic data life-form element?”

I was shocked he’d been able to remember that term, having only heard it once. In response to Koizumi’s question barrage, Nagato answered the same way she always did: simply.

“A virus.”

“Is that it, then? Is the reason the first dog’s body… no, its mind was infected, before the infection was passed on to Rousseau, because the data life-form elements are reproducing and spreading, like a virus?” Koizumi brushed a lock of hair back with his finger. “And what are these strange data life-forms doing on Earth? And what attracted them to the dogs?”

“It is possible,” said Nagato in a thin voice, “to surmise that the silicate bodies that act as hosts were drawn into Earth’s gravity well. Those silicate bodies were vaporized by the heat from atmospheric friction, but data life-forms can continue to exist when the physical matter that houses them is destroyed. The data remains. The data life-form elements made contact with the Earth’s surface.”

“Right where the dogs are being walked. That’s the area where they fell, is it not? And they happened to infect a dog that passed by.”

“It is possible that there are similarities between the networks of silicon-based life-forms and canine neural circuitry.”

“But they’re not the same. Which means the result is that the dogs begin to weaken.”

Nagato had been answering Koizumi’s questions rapidly, but she closed her mouth for a moment to consider.

“It is not a contagion. A unified data element is planning to expand its cognitive memory.”

What was she talking about—

Whatever it was, Koizumi seemed to understand. “So a single dog doesn’t contain sufficient resources. But I can’t imagine it will stop, having spread to two dogs. How many dogs would it take for this silicon-based life-form to rebuild its network?”

“Based on the minimum estimate derived from silicon life-forms already known to my database… infecting every dog on the planet would be insufficient—”

“Now wait just a second,” I interrupted, deeply disturbed. “I understand that Rousseau and one other dog have gotten some kind of space virus. And I kind of get that it got here on a meteorite. But what—in space, there are these… uh, how did you put it, Nagato, ‘organic life-forms,’ but also other life-forms, ones not made out of organic matter?”

Nagato considered her answer for a moment. “The answer to that question depends on how you define the concept of life.” She looked at me with eyes so clear I thought I might fall into them. “If you are referring to entities whose consciousnesses are contained within silicate constructions, such entities exist.”

She said it like it was no big deal, but hearing something so intense at this particular moment put me in a bad place. She should’ve told the Project Cyclops extraterrestrial investigators when they were putting together SETI; they would’ve done a happy dance and run off to get funding, I bet.

“And by the way,” I said, even though it was a little late to ask, “what’s this ‘silicon’ you keep talking about?”

Unfortunately I’d never been overly fond of either chemistry class or its teacher.

“It’s the chemical element, silicon,” said Koizumi. “It’s an excellent semiconductor.” He directed an interested smile at Nagato. “What Nagato is talking about is essentially a machine consciousness. It’s a level of technology we humans have not yet achieved. She’s saying that elsewhere in the universe, there are inorganic, machine entities that have gained consciousness on their own. Or perhaps in all of space, such entities are the norm, and we humans are the exception.”

Nagato ignored Koizumi and kept looking at me. As though she were entrusting me with the answer to everything.

I thought back—back to the first book I’d borrowed from Nagato. Guided by a note left on a bookmark in it, I’d gone to her house for the first time, where she’d told me something.

—Because it was previously assumed that organic life-forms, which possess absolute limits on their data accumulation and transmission capabilities, could never develop intelligence—

Koizumi unconsciously stroked his chin.

“Is it possible that these silicon compositions are merely raw matter, and only gained consciousness upon being inhabited by the data elements?”

Nagato looked up, seeming again as though she were asking someone for permission, then looked back down.

“Intelligence,” she said after a short pause, “is determined by an entity’s ability to collect data, then independently process that stored data.”

Nagato was very talkative—no, more talkative than she’d been since the conversation in which she’d revealed her true nature to me. Maybe the fact that our problem was in her area of expertise made her chattier.

“The data life-form element parasitizes the silicon life-forms, augmenting their cognitive abilities. Originally the data life-form was no more than an isolated clump of information. In order to harvest and process more data, it required physical network circuitry. Each entity benefits the other.”

But what were these silicon-based life-forms? Were they so astoundingly lazy and disconnected that they’d just let themselves fall into Earth’s gravity well and burned up in the atmosphere? I asked.

“Their activities as life-forms are limited to cognition,” said Nagato. “They do nothing other than cogitate. Space is vast. The probability that they would fall into a gravity well is near zero. Thus they have no will to live nor self-preservation concepts.”

What did they think about, just floating around in space? I asked.

“It is impossible to explain their cognitive framework to an organic life-form. Their logical foundations are too different.”

So communication was impossible, huh. I guess we didn’t have to alert NASA then. Making first contact would only end in frustration.

“Geez.”

We’d gone from Sakanaka talking about ghosts to the far reaches of the universe—a leap too far, if you asked me. And given that I could barely understand any of Nagato’s hard SF novels, all this talk of intelligence and cognitive capability was totally beyond me.

It was hard to know whether it fell in the purview of chemistry, philosophy, or religion. Invisible data life-forms and the intelligent balls of silicon that housed them… it would’ve been a lot more understandable to just call them ghosts and be done with it.

“Wait—,” I said, as something weird occurred to me. That’s right—Sakanaka had come to us talking about ghosts. And a ghost was just a soul, right? “So, do souls exist?”

This formless data life-element, or whatever it was, was the source of extraterrestrial intelligence. Its former physical body had been destroyed, and its incorporeal part had fallen to Earth—didn’t that make it basically a ghost?

“What about humans? We have brains that think, which means there’s a consciousness in there somewhere. Are you saying even if our body is destroyed, the spirit remains?”

This was a fairly important question—no, there was no “fairly” about it. Depending on the answer, it could completely change the path of a human life.

Nagato did not answer, a queer look passing across her face. I mean, her standard lack of expression was the same as ever, but something about her aura was different, I could tell. Even if nobody else noticed, I could tell. I would soon have known her for an entire year. That was plenty of time to develop a certain amount of insight, and there’d been several incidents where it would’ve been impossible not to learn something about her. Trust me, I’d know.

Nagato, she—

“…”

She was silent, she was blank, and yet I felt that there was some kind of a look to her. And so long as my perception wasn’t indicating “zero”—

“…”

It was like she was trying to avoid smiling at her own joke.

Then, finally, Nagato’s answer came. It was short and sweet.

“That is classified.”

There was a loud, exaggerated sigh. I was its source. Classified, huh? Someday I wanted to be able to use that word when somebody had asked me a question I didn’t want to answer. Maybe I’d try it in class the next time a teacher put me on the spot.

I was struck by the deep question of whether Nagato had just cracked the first joke she’d ever made in her entire life, but that wasn’t important. Right now, Rousseau was the top priority. The problem was what to do about that space-virus thing.

“We’ll have to do something. Nagato, is it possible?”

“It is possible,” said Nagato. You could always count on her. “We must gain control of the relevant data life-form elements and compress them into an archive, halting its activity. However, we will need a biological network to contain the archived data.”

I didn’t really understand, but it sounded like a pain. Couldn’t we just wipe it out? I asked.

“Deletion is not possible.”

Why not?

“Permission has not been given.”

From her boss?

“Yes.”

Had they been designated an endangered species in this galaxy or something?

“It is a beneficial being.”

I supposed they were something like lactobacilli or E. coli to us humans, then.

I’d let Koizumi take over. He seemed amused at something. “Can’t we stick this thing in some silicon and send it back to space in a rocket or something? Couldn’t your Agency handle something like that?”

Koizumi shrugged lightly. “I could get as many ingots as you want from Silicon Valley, and it wouldn’t be impossible to manipulate political and economic conditions to get access to a hydrogen rocket, but it doesn’t seem likely that we’ll be able to prepare silicon-based life-forms.”

No good, huh? No… wait.

In my mind appeared an image of a beautifully patterned metal rod. It was a Genroku-era relic that had been excavated from Tsuruya’s mountain, which the family had then put in storage. Had it been prepared for the eventuality we now faced? Was this out-of-place artifact a gift from the past?

“No, it’s not.”

According to what Tsuruya had said, the metal rod in the picture was composed of a titanium-cesium alloy. If news of it reached the academic world, they’d have something crazier to debate than the location of the Yamatai Kingdom, but it was unrelated to some bone-dry, fossilized silicon life-form. It was part of some other machine, or was something that had to be sealed away for eternity, or had been left by some traveler from the future. I never wanted to see it again, if I could avoid it, even if I had been the reason it had been discovered.

I was lost in my own musing when Koizumi’s voice brought me back around.

“Fortunately, it does not seem as though haste is necessary. There were several days between the first dog’s health failing and Rousseau being affected. If we can do something about it today or tomorrow, we should be able to avoid having any other victims.”

There was a huge difference in the time scales here on Earth, compared with the cosmos. I supposed I should be grateful that this virus thing seemed to have stayed on cosmic time.

“We’ll visit Sakanaka again tomorrow. There’s no school. But we should think hard about the reason for our visit. It may not be strange to check in on the dog’s health two days running, but we’re actually going to treat it. And we’ll need to do the same thing with Higuchi’s dog too.”

I was only half listening to Koizumi. I didn’t care if he couldn’t think of a pretext. Nagato was going to be the one doing the actual treatment.

“Tomorrow, then. Sorry, Nagato—we’re gonna be counting on you.”

Not unlike the way Haruhi and Asahina had left their hearts at Sakanaka’s house, I couldn’t stop my own heart from flying out into the cosmos. I was totally spaced out, and as I went to leave, something slowed my exiting body. What the?

I looked behind me. Nagato had grabbed my belt and stopped me. I didn’t really mind, but she should’ve raised her voice, or at least tugged on my sleeve or something. Come to think of it, I would’ve preferred the latter.

Her face blank, Nagato moved her lips and spoke. “There is something we need.”

“What?”

“A cat.”

I was totally taken aback; Nagato spoke as if choosing her words carefully.

“The cat at your house would be ideal.”

A little while after Koizumi, Nagato, and I had finished strategizing, I made a phone call as I walked home.

“Haruhi? Yeah, it’s me. I want to talk about Rousseau. She was talking about this on the way back, but it turns out that Nagato once read a book that had a dog with a sickness a lot like Rousseau’s… Yeah, the treatment was in there too. I can’t say for sure it’ll go well, but… yeah, I know. It’s worth trying, right? Nagato knows how to do it. So tomorrow we’re going to go back to Sakanaka’s place and… what, now? Can’t do it. There’s stuff to get ready, so we’ll meet up tomorrow. Don’t rush things. According to Koizum—I mean, Nagato—it’s not something that’s going to suddenly get worse… Yeah, why don’t you go ahead and tell Sakanaka. Oh, and there was another dog, right? Higuchi’s dog Mike or whatever. They’ll need to bring him over to Sakanaka’s place too. I’ll tell Asahina. Okay, see you tomorrow…. Yeah, nine o’clock. Okay? At the usual station.”

The next day, at the station that would any day now turn into a famous sightseeing destination, I arrived twenty minutes early only to discover the rest of the brigade waiting for me.

However, only Koizumi and Nagato looked anything like their usual selves; Asahina stood there, unease on her face, while Haruhi looked like someone who’d put all her money into the lottery and was waiting for the numbers to be announced.

“You’re late.” She glared at me with a complicated expression.

That day, for once, I wasn’t made to treat the rest of the brigade at the café as a tardiness punishment. Haruhi just grabbed my arm and started walking toward the ticket machines.

“I heard more about it from Koizumi,” she said as she bought tickets for all of us. “That Nagato’s going to try some kind of folk remedy? For something called ‘suncat’?”

Suncat? What was that supposed to be? It sounded like a new kind of fairy from Polynesia or something.

“It’s the illness we believe Rousseau has contracted.” Having gotten his ticket, Koizumi reached out to the automatic turnstile. He quickly continued, perhaps to stop me from contradicting the story he’d come up with. “When an otherwise active dog suddenly loses all of his energy and acts like a cat sleeping in a sunbeam, it indicates a case of this disease. It’s an extremely rare affliction and is not in any veterinary manuals. There’s a possibility it’s a sort of neurosis,” he said, winking at me, “or so Nagato has explained it to me. Evidently she learned about it in some old book. Isn’t that right?”

Nagato, the only one of us still wearing her school uniform, nodded plainly enough for everyone to see. The nod was so awkward that it was painfully obvious they’d discussed this ahead of time.

She looked at the paper supermarket bag that Koizumi held, then regarded the pet carrier I was holding.

“Meow,” said Shamisen, as if to greet Nagato, scratching at the holes in the box he was in.

Haruhi thwacked the cat carrier. “It’s so weird to need a cat to treat a disease. Yuki, are you sure this is okay? Can we trust that book?”

It was a lot closer to an exorcism than a treatment, but we couldn’t very well tell that to Haruhi. I was glad for Nagato’s policy of silence.

She nodded, then, turning her head to regard me, held out both hands. Just when I was wondering what she wanted, since all I had was this cat in a plastic box, she spoke.

“The cat,” said Nagato, her voice flat. “Give it to me.”

Thus I became empty-handed, and while the carrier box containing the cat was on the train, it rested on Nagato’s lap. Maybe because we were on a train, I couldn’t tell if the silent girl was trying to give me some kind of a sign, but Shamisen behaved himself.

Haruhi and Asahina sat on either side of Nagato, and in contrast to their interest in the cat-filled box, I was much more interested in the contents of Koizumi’s bag.

“Don’t worry; I’ve prepared suitable tools.”

The two of us boys were leaning against the door of the train car, so there was no concern that Haruhi would overhear our conversation. Koizumi moved the bag slightly.

“It took a bit of effort getting it ready in a single night, but I managed. The rest is up to Nagato.”

I had no doubts about Nagato’s abilities. She would save Rousseau. What was giving me a headache was thinking about cleaning up afterward.

“That’ll be my job. This is just my intuition, but I don’t think this will be too troublesome. You’ll see if you watch Suzumiya. Her highest priority right now is to cure Rousseau. So long as we can accomplish that, we’ll have fulfilled our duties.”

I hoped he was right.

I took my eyes off the unconcernedly smiling Koizumi and grabbed a handhold as the train began to decelerate. There were only two more stations to Sakanaka’s neighborhood. There wasn’t much time left to think.

This made it the third day we’d visited Sakanaka’s house. I would never have imagined we’d be coming here three times in a single week.

Sakanaka met us at the door, looking much the same as she had the previous day, though her eyes were colored by what might have been a sliver of hope.

“Suzumiya…” She seemed on the verge of tears and at a loss for words; Haruhi simply nodded and looked back. She was searching for the best and brightest member of the SOS Brigade—the slender, school-uniformed Nagato.

“Leave it to us, Sakanaka. You might not think it, but Yuki’s super dependable, and she can do practically anything. J.J. will be better before you know it.”

We were led shortly into the Sakanakas’ living room, where there was Mrs. Sakanaka along with another woman. Something about her said “ladies’ college student” to me, and no sooner did I look at her face than I understood she was Higuchi, owner of the other afflicted dog. Which meant that the exhausted miniature dachshund she held in her arms had to be Mike.

Rousseau was much the same as he had been the previous day, lying on the couch, motionless. His eyes were open, but he didn’t seem to be looking at anything, and Mike was exactly of a kind.

This was it. I exchanged looks with Nagato and Koizumi.

I began taking brief instructions from Nagato, acting as her assistant, just as the three of us had decided at our last meeting. Koizumi had brought the appropriate tools. I didn’t know where he’d gotten them, but I had to admit, the guy was pretty useful in times like this. It was a lot easier than trying to get our hands on a silicon-based life-form.

First we closed the curtains to block off the sunlight. None of the lights were on, of course, so once the room was dim, I produced a fat, colorful candle from the bag Koizumi had brought, placing it on an antique candle stand and lighting it with a match. I then put some incense in a small bowl and lit it as well. Once I’d confirmed that the fragrant and strangely colored smoke was wafting around the room, I gave Nagato the sign.

Shamisen hated to be held that way, but somehow the usually grouchy cat offered no resistance as Nagato picked him up.

I coughed. “Can I ask you to put your dog next to Rousseau?”

Suspicion at what seemed like our preparations for a magic spell colored the face of the young, refined Higuchi, but she did as I asked. There were now two dogs on the sofa, each of them listless and inattentive, as though lacking in spirit.

Holding the cat, Nagato knelt down in front of the sofa.

That was the last step. I hit the switch on a digital recorder, and a haunting refrain of theremin and sitar filled the room with its eerie melody. To be honest, I thought this was overdoing it, but Koizumi’s specialty was seeing his gimmicks through to the end.

The candlelight flickered uncertainly, the sweet smell of incense filled the air, and exotic music played as Nagato began what could only be thought of as a strange ritual.

“…”

In the dim room, her pale face seemed freeze-dried in its lack of affect. Her hands, just as pale as her face, moved. She placed one hand on Rousseau’s head, petting him, then put that same hand to Shamisen’s head. Despite being in an unfamiliar house and directly facing two strange dogs, Shamisen sat impressively still and let her do it.

Nagato brought Shamisen face-to-face with Rousseau, their noses almost touching. Rousseau’s black eyes moved sluggishly to meet the eyes of the calico cat opposite him. Nagato moved her hands back and forth as if transferring something from Rousseau to Shamisen, then performed the same process with Mike. Nagato’s lips were moving slightly, forming words I couldn’t quite make out, but only Koizumi and I seemed to notice this.

Finally, Nagato touched Shamisen’s small forehead to each dog’s nose, then stood. Saying nothing, she put Shamisen back in the carrier, then brought it over to me and looked up.

“It is finished.”

Naturally, everyone was dumbfounded. I certainly was, standing there holding the carrier, but Haruhi and Asahina, and especially Sakanaka and Higuchi, were all the more stunned.

Haruhi’s mouth hung open. “What do you mean, ‘It is finished’? That’s all? I mean… what was that?”

“…”

Nagato merely tilted her head and directed her gaze to the two dogs, as if to say, that’s what you should be looking at.

And there—

There were two dogs, unsteady but clear-eyed as they adorably looked about for their owners.

“Rousseau!”

“Mike!”

Sakanaka and Higuchi ran over, arms outstretched. The dogs whined weakly but wagged their tails as they licked their owners’ cheeks.

A few minutes after the moving scene, which had caused Asahina to start crying out of sheer sympathy, the dingy spell-casting space had been returned to its natural living-room state. Rousseau and Mike were in the kitchen getting a meal from Mrs. Sakanaka, while the five of us, along with Sakanaka and Higuchi, sat on a sofa that encircled an expensive-looking table.

---

---

“What Nagato performed was a form of animal therapy.” Koizumi’s explanation was almost painful to listen to, but between his cheerful smile and pleasant tone, everybody seemed to be buying it. “The candle and the incense both had aromatics in them, which dogs are even more sensitive to than humans, thanks to their excellent noses. We chose the music for its relaxing qualities.”

There had to be a limit to such nonsense, but I supposed all was well, since Rousseau and Mike had actually recovered. Sakanaka’s and Higuchi’s happiness was total, and Mrs. Sakanaka was very grateful that both her dog’s and her daughter’s health had been restored, and she baked a mountain of the choux à la crème Haruhi loved so much.

Sakanaka was even happier than her mother. “It’s just incredible, Nagato! You knew stuff even the veterinarian didn’t know!”

“That’s our Yuki. She’s the SOS Brigade’s number one all-rounder,” bragged Haruhi. Nagato was busy devouring choux à la crème. “She’s read a million books, knows all kinds of things, plays the guitar, and she’s a great cook too. She’s even national level at sports!”

“It’s a good thing that folk cure was in an old book Nagato read,” said Sakanaka.

Koizumi elegantly sipped his tea, then followed that up. “There are treatments in Chinese medicine whose effectiveness science can’t explain. It seems one can’t dismiss folk remedies out of hand,” he said. I couldn’t help but think he was laying it on pretty thick.

Having served their purpose, the incense and candles were back in the bag. Shamisen, who’d likewise been used as a tool for this treatment, was in his carrier. I wanted to let him out to wander around a bit, but if he decided to sharpen his claws on any of the house’s fine furniture, a simple scolding wasn’t going to fix things, so I left him where he was. Ever since Nagato had stepped away, he’d been rattling around in the carrier meowing, but if I left him alone, I figured he’d give up and go to sleep.

The truth was that Shamisen was the one who deserved a medal; the other “tools” had been mere window dressing, though only Nagato, Koizumi, and I knew that little fact.

All Nagato had needed to do was freeze the data life-form element. That was all.

She could have frozen it within the two dogs that had contracted the “disease.” It was the simplest and most direct method, but it could also cause problems. Higuchi’s little Mike or Sakanaka’s beloved Rousseau might reach the end of his natural life, but after he passed away, the frozen data life-form would remain. We couldn’t ignore the possibility that it would then escape its frozen state and go on to cause more trouble. So we decided it would be better to place it in a form we could continuously monitor. Any organic life-form would suffice as a host—even Haruhi or me—but Nagato identified Shamisen as the one least likely to experience problems. This was a male calico that once in a while gained the ability to speak human language. I didn’t think storing a frozen cosmic life-form or two inside him was going to cause him any difficulty, and if there were any problems, I would notice immediately… so that was the plan.

As an alternative to the sigh I wanted to heave, I popped a choux à la crème into my mouth.

While Sakanaka had certainly suffered misfortune, the source of that misfortune had now been transferred into my cat. I wondered if anyone would bother feeling sorry for me.

Nagato’s apartment did allow pets, so I could leave Shamisen there with her, but convincing my sister to agree to that would take no small amount of effort, and I’d grown fond of the cat myself. You go right ahead, Shamisen. Live long enough to turn into a ghost cat yourself.

By the time we were leaving Sakanaka’s house, Rousseau and Mike had gotten so much of their energy back it was unbelievable. This delighted both Asahina and Haruhi, and they each hugged both of the dogs in turn, smiling hugely.

Before we left, Mrs. Sakanaka made us take all sorts of goodies—including all the leftover choux à la crème. The bag thrust into Nagato’s hands was especially large, and it was a good feeling to see the person who deserved the most thanks be treated so well. In the course of chatting, Higuchi (who did attend a ladies’ college) also expressed a desire to thank us materially, but Haruhi shut her down.

“It’s fine, it’s fine! We took this case on for free from the beginning. Just getting to hold Mikey here is plenty. My SOS Brigade isn’t a for-profit establishment anyway, and we don’t need money or goods to get along. The feeling we get seeing J.J. and Mikey healthy is more than enough compensation. Right, Yuki?”

Nagato said nothing, but nodded minutely.

Always maintaining his cool, Koizumi spoke to Sakanaka. “If any other dogs fall ill in a similar manner to Rousseau, please notify us. It is unlikely, but just in case.”

“I will. I’ll ask around next time I take Rousseau on a walk.” Sakanaka nodded firmly.

We parted ways with our classmate, saying we’d meet again at school. Haruhi started walking, her spirits high. Behind her, something occurred to me.

If Haruhi and Sakanaka happened to be in the same class next year, that would be an extremely good thing.

Both on the way to the station and on the train itself, Haruhi seemed to have forgotten a certain something as she happily talked about the dogs with Asahina. It would make things a lot easier for me if she didn’t remember, so I was careful not to say anything foolish.

We ended up gradually going our separate ways before arriving at the station where we usually met up. Haruhi, Nagato, and Asahina all got off one stop before there, since it was closer to their homes. And though it was barely afternoon, I was already stuffed with crème, and I also had the cat with me, so I took a pass on going into a restaurant. So the SOS Brigade’s day came to an end.

Koizumi got off at the same station as me, walking through the same turnstile.

He matched my stride, walking alongside me as I headed home. So he’d lived in this area all along, eh?

Now that the boisterous, outgoing ladies of the SOS Brigade had gone their separate ways, I walked alone with the esper, and the quiet was unnerving.

“Good work today,” said Koizumi.

I couldn’t help hearing that as a mere pleasantry, I said.

“Well, the source of the problem was extremely… problematic. We even had to enlist Shamisen’s help. Still, Nagato certainly has been useful, hasn’t she? As I recall, there was a similar problem last year. Kimidori came to us for help, and we had to save the computer club president from a data life-form. Doesn’t it seem that the clients who’ve approached us are all connected to Nagato?”

“What’re you trying to say?”

“Nagato’s membership in the SOS Brigade has become a total necessity, though that’s merely my opinion. I’d venture that you’re the one who has more things he wants to say.”

I wasn’t really doing that much thinking. My only thought was to wonder why all these things—the cave cricket, the guy we’d just dealt with—kept being attracted to Earth, like a magnet attracting iron. What explained that? Come to think of it, Nagato was the same way. But Nagato was only here to watch Haruhi—

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Haruhi.

Was that the answer? Haruhi had created the data explosion that caused the Data Overmind to send Nagato here. But that had been an active, deliberate response. But the thing that had happened with the computer club president’s room and this weird virus thing falling to Earth in a silicon lump—surely their aim wasn’t Haruhi as well. The former had come to Earth millions of years ago, for one thing.

If Haruhi were unconsciously reaching back in time and manipulating things, then that meant things had well and truly gotten out of hand. But if Asahina… if time travelers had come to this time period, then that meant—

I was trying to think about it seriously when Koizumi butted in, his timing so perfect that he must’ve either heard me muttering to myself or wanted to deliberately interrupt my train of thought.

“Do you think it’s a coincidence?” he said, repeating the unpleasant question like a waiter reading a customer’s order back to him.

I felt like I knew what he was going to say. “Just spit it out. I’ve got no intention of playing mind games with you.”

“Of all the places it could have fallen, this cosmic life-form landed here in our town and just happened to attach itself to a dog owned by a student of North High, Sakanaka, who just happened to come to the SOS Brigade for help, and we… that is to say, Nagato just happened to realize the truth and take action. If this is all the product of a series of coincidences, then the probability of it happening just so is astronomically tiny.”

It was in my nature to want to disagree with him. It wasn’t that I was on Haruhi’s side.

“It was astronomical, all right! We had to intervene with two different alien-things. If it wasn’t a coincidence, then what was it? Are you saying that Nagato set them up, just like you orchestrated those mysteries?”

“Surely not. If it were scripted, then it would either be the Data Overmind or some other alien of which we are yet unaware. What’s certain is that this did not happen because Haruhi wished it so.”

How did he know that? Wasn’t it possible that she just wanted to get in one last incident before spring break came and she had too much free time on her hands? And that in thinking that, it happened? I said.

“Haven’t I said it before? Suzumiya’s psyche is becoming more and more stable. Almost anticlimactically so. And that’s the problem.”

I stayed quiet, letting him continue. Koizumi put a finger to his lips thoughtfully.

“There’s something out there that finds a stable Suzumiya to be less interesting. Be it a data flare, a time-quake, or closed space, whatever the form—there’s something out there that wants to provoke Suzumiya’s inexplicable power into action.”

Koizumi’s smile was gradually changing. It was starting to look like Ryoko Asakura’s.

“This incident may be only an omen of something else.”

Like what? If everything were an omen, then even I could call myself a prophet and set up shop as Nostradamus II, I said.

Koizumi smirked cynically. “The timing of these extraterrestrial visits cannot be explained by coincidence. You must know. These aliens, these intelligences that hide among us—they are not limited to humanoid interfaces to the Data Overmind.”

“Tch.”

I didn’t want to do anything dramatic, but I sneered and clicked my tongue. Koizumi sometimes seemed like he wanted to cast things in the worst possible light, but I wasn’t having it. If he wanted to call Nagato a humanoid interface, fine. It was the truth.

“I’m more worried about these other aliens you’re hinting at.”

“The Agency has a variety of information sources, which keeps me aware of a variety of things. I can’t say everything, but, well, yes.” Koizumi’s smile finally returned to normal mode. “I’ll leave the other aliens to Nagato. My role is to work against the Agency’s rival organization. I have a feeling they’ll be trying something again, soon. Likewise, I’ll let Asahina do something about the other faction of time travelers.”

From Koizumi’s expression, I could tell that he wasn’t serious about that last part, but I was. The only difference was that I wasn’t thinking of our Asahina; I was thinking of the older one.

No worrying was necessary in the case of Nagato. I was entirely confident that there wasn’t a being anywhere whose willpower was greater than hers. And you, Koizumi—if it comes down to it, you’ll be running around with me. I’ll say it as many times as I have to. I won’t let you forget the promise you made on that snowy mountain.

“I remember it, of course. And even if I did forget, I’m quite certain that you’d remind me. Wouldn’t you?” He smiled pleasantly and gestured. “When the time comes.”

“Welcome home!”

When I got back to my room, my sister was sprawled out on my bed, reading my comics.

“Hey, where’d you take Shami to?”

Not answering, I let Shamisen out of the carrier. The calico immediately jumped up onto the bed, walked onto my sister’s back, and started kneading it with his paws, as though giving her a massage. She laughed, ticklish, and kicked her feet about.

“Kyon, get Shami off me! I can’t get up!”

I picked up the cat, and my sister sat up. She was a fifth grader, eleven years old, but soon she’d be in the final year of elementary school. She tossed the comic book aside and started petting Shamisen like crazy, as he curled up on the bed. She sniffed at him.

“He smells sorta sweet! What is it?”

I gave her the choux à la crème Mrs. Sakanaka had given us. Keeping an eye on my sister as she delightedly devoured them, I picked up a hardcover book that was lying on my desk.

It had been about a week earlier. I’d borrowed it from Nagato’s bookshelf as a way to cool down as final exams were wrapping up. “Got any good books that might fit my mood?” I’d asked Nagato, and after standing stiffly in front of her bookshelf for about five minutes, she’d slowly thrust this at me. I’d only gotten halfway through it, but it was just the story of a romance between a boy and girl as they go from high school to college, with no SF or mystery or fantasy elements, just an ordinary world—and in many ways, both then and now, it suited me just fine. When she grew up, Nagato shouldn’t go into aromatherapy or fortune-telling or veterinary work—she should be a librarian.

I flopped down on the bed and started reading as my sister went to the kitchen to look for something to drink, holding her second crème in hand.

I wonder how much time passed.

I’d been absorbed in the book, and when I came to, Shamisen was scratching at the door, which was his way of telling me he wanted me to open it and let him out. I normally leave it half open so he can come and go as he pleases, but my sister had closed it when she’d left.

Sticking a bookmark in the book, I opened the door for the cat. Shamisen slunk out into the hallway, pausing to turn and meow at me by way of thanks. But then he kept looking, staring at something behind me. I followed his gaze and looked back.

It was the corner of the ceiling. There was nothing. Nothing was there.

Shamisen’s wide-eyed gaze at the ceiling’s corner began, slowly, to move. The object of his stare was now the exterior wall. It was as though something invisible had been on the ceiling, but had slid across and down the wall.

“Hey.”

But Shamisen was only thus occupied for a few seconds. The only part of him that heard my call was the tip of his tail. I heard his quiet footfalls recede as he headed away, perhaps down to the kitchen after my sister to see if he could arrange for some dinner.

I closed the door most of the way but left it open wide enough so that the cat could get back in, and I thought about what I’d just seen. Shamisen’s actions weren’t especially rare. Animals often reacted to small movements that humans ignored, their ears pricking at minute sounds coming in from outside.

But. What if.

What if there had been something there, invisible to humans, that Shamisen could see. What if that invisible whatever-it-was had been stuck to my ceiling, then crawled over and down my wall. What then?

—Do souls exist?

—That is classified.

What if millions, or tens of millions of years ago, data life-forms had fallen to Earth and chose not dogs as their hosts, but humans? Was there a non-zero possibility that a human would not fall ill as Rousseau had, but instead would coexist with it? Was it too much of a leap to wonder if that was the source of early humans’ great leap in intelligence?

If that were so, then perhaps the organic life-forms that so intrigued Nagato’s boss could begin to amass knowledge. Not on their own, but with the unwitting help of extraterrestrials.

It would’ve been very strange if I’d figured something out that the Data Overmind had overlooked, but just as mitochondria had once been independent organisms, what if these spiritual symbionts had improved the mental capacity of ancient apes, and had been passed down through to present day? The logic made sense—

“Sure, whatever.”

It was totally unlike me to be thinking about this stuff. Humans couldn’t imagine stuff that was beyond their own abilities, after all. Especially not me. I’d leave pondering difficult problems to Koizumi. Just like he left dealing with aliens to Nagato, I’d stay in the listener’s position when it came to this stuff. I understood, too, the nature of the condescending promise he’d made. If it comes to that, I may switch sides, he’d said. Consider it a warning. The many times he’d said such things seemed like nothing more than him carefully building an alibi.

Sorry, Koizumi, but alibis are doomed to be destroyed. Cheap, shallow excuses aren’t gonna fly with me. Or with Haruhi.

And anyway. Even if Koizumi’s ability to move was ended by whatever intrigues the Agency got up to, I still had other options. If nothing else, I could prostrate myself before the all-knowing, all-powerful Tsuruya. If that brilliant, cheerful upperclassman devoted her grinning shrewdness to covert maneuvering, even the Agency’s top brass would be in real trouble.

How I would do such things, or having done such things, what would happen—I hadn’t devoted so much as a millisecond of brain power to that. I’d worry about that later.

“… Worrying about those things really isn’t my specialty.”

But whatever. I couldn’t be anybody besides myself, and my consciousness was mine alone. Mine! All mine!

And if somebody wanted it back, well, tough—the statute of limitations had long since passed on that one.

As I was pondering such pointless nonsense, my cell phone, which I’d left on my desk, began to vibrate. I picked it up, wondering if the call was going to be delivering some kind of future warning—but it was just Haruhi.

“What’s up?”

“Hey, Kyon. I forgot something important,” said Haruhi, getting right to the point of her phone call without any preamble. “It’s great that we cured J.J. and Mike, but why do you think they caught that weird sickness in the first place? What I think is that the two of them really did see a ghost, and the shock made them sick!”

See, Koizumi? Do you see why I was worrying about the post-incident cleanup? It’s because she thinks about stuff like this.

“I bet it was there on that path we walked until about a week ago. My guess is that it still hasn’t cut its ties with the mortal world. It’s probably turned into a wandering spirit, just going all over the place!”

“I don’t know anything about ghosts, but you should just let it go to Heaven already.”

“That’s why we’re having an all-hands meeting tomorrow! This time we’re definitely gonna get a picture with that ghost.”

“And just how are you gonna line up with a ghost, huh?”

“We can’t do it during the day, I bet. We’ll do it at night. We’ll find a place where ghosts probably congregate, and we’ll take a bunch of pictures. They’ll have to show up on at least one or two of ’em, right?”

Haruhi unilaterally informed me of the meeting time and hung up before bothering to ask if I had plans on Sunday. I had no doubt that seconds later, she was contacting the other brigade members. Apparently tomorrow’s mysterious phenomena patrol would take the form of searching for haunted spots in the dead of night.

I put my phone down and gazed again at the corner of my room.

Sakanaka’s ghost problem had, via her dog’s illness, ended up in Nagato’s jurisdiction. I knew very well that a ghost hadn’t been involved at all, as did Koizumi. But the notion had evidently lingered in Haruhi’s head, such that a few hours later, she remembered it. Our esteemed brigade chief was now hoping not for alien whatever-based life-forms from space, but bona fide ghosts.

In any case, I’d entrust Koizumi with the job of putting marks on the city map. If we actually managed to take a real spectral photograph, I’d let him come up with a pseudo-scientific excuse too. I planned to take on the weighty job of walking through the night air with Asahina, letting her cling to me at every little noise.

Our bizarre brigade, walking all over creation snapping pictures in the dark. Any outsider would think we were the strange ones, wandering around trying to take pictures of invisible ghosts. Nevertheless, the weather would soon be turning warmer, and we could probably explain away our behavior by citing spring fever. In the worst-case scenario, we could always get Asahina to dress up as a shrine maiden and chant the Heart Sutra. It’d be an exorcism Haruhi-style.

Even if ghosts did exist, I doubted they would be swarming around such that you could run into them just by walking around. It wasn’t like Haruhi actually wanted to meet one.

Having watched her for close to a year, I was sure of that much. What she liked best was not ghosts, but the action of searching for ghosts with her friends.

And for my part, well—

“I guess I wouldn’t mind if one showed up,” I muttered to the place on the ceiling where Shamisen had looked, then went back to reading my book. The reality portrayed in that book was far more ordinary than the one that surrounded me.

But that didn’t mean I was jealous of the more realistic reality.

Not now, anyway.