The Dissociation of Haruhi Suzumiya

by Nagaru Tanigawa

  I wondered how many freshmen would come knocking on our door again tomorrow.

  β—6

  No one came to the clubroom. Haruhi was off somewhere else, which was all well and good, but it was rare for Nagato to be late. Maybe she was over with the computer club. Given that Koizumi was in the special academics course, he probably had a lot more to do now that he was in his second year of high school. It was a lousy class to be in. I’d heard that class 9’s instructor was more interested in raising his students’ academic achievement level than he was in actual education. Koizumi had to be angling for a good college—otherwise, he would never have chosen to transfer into such an exhausting class. The Agency probably could’ve helped him get in anywhere he wanted, and he’d probably just go wherever Haruhi went, anyway. As for me, I was putting off thinking about any of that stuff. After a year and a half or so, I’d probably know my limits better. If we were comparing entrance exams, the chance of my achieving the same academic level as Koizumi was lower than an anthill. As for Haruhi—well, how should I know? She should go somewhere where she could make the most of her abilities.

  Just as I was attempting to read one of Nagato’s books, the individual capable of transforming the room’s dingy palette into lovely pastels entered.

  “Oh, Kyon.”

  The living negative ion known as Asahina carefully closed the door, then set her bag down like a field mouse returning to its burrow to store the acorns it gathered.

  “I thought I was running a bit late, but it’s strange that no one else has arrived yet. Where’s Suzumiya?”

  “She ran off somewhere as soon as class ended. It’s spring, though, so maybe she just decided she had to run around.”

  Just like flowers that had saved up their energy over winter. Or camellia seeds. I mean, I could definitely understand wanting to run around. Winter had seemed really long.

  Just as I stood to excuse myself from the room to give Asahina a chance to change, I looked back over my shoulder.

  “Asahina.”

  “Yes?”

  There was something pure about Asahina’s eyes as she looked at me curiously, her hand reaching for the maid outfit where it hung on the costume rack. I didn’t want to trouble those pure, transparent eyes, but my concern was a significant one, and we didn’t get many chances to talk alone, so I went ahead.

  “It’s about that time traveler we met in February.”

  Perhaps detecting something in my tone, Asahina pulled her hand away from the outfit. “Yes, I remember.”

  I made a serious face and chose my words carefully. “What are they planning, coming back to this time? I got the feeling that it wasn’t just about observing Haruhi for them, but I have no idea what they’re actually after,” I said, feeling anxious. I wondered if it would be all right to tell her that the time traveler Fujiwara was back again. I wondered if I should tell her his name, or about Sasaki. Which of those were fixed events? Should I say something—or nothing?

  “Um…” Asahina said, putting a finger to her lips. “Their goal is… well… I wasn’t told. But I don’t think they came here to do something bad. That’s just what I think, but that’s probably why I haven’t been given any orders to do anything about them.”

  It seemed like it was difficult to say, probably because she was trying to avoid touching on classified information.

  I thought about Asahina the Elder’s face in profile as I spoke. “Did they come from a time that’s connected to ours?” That was what I was most interested in.

  “They are definitely connected,” said Asahina, as though putting her thoughts in order. “Just like us, they used the same… er, method, to come to this time. Time travel using the TPDD, it… leaves traces in the time plane, so…”

  She caught herself with a gasp.

  “Wait, why…? This should be classified, but I was able to say it. Why?”

  I’d been the one who’d asked, but I had an idea.

  “Asahina, what does TPDD stand for?”

  “Time Plane Destroid Device… Huh?” She put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. “How…? That’s classified, but—”

  They were words I knew, because I’d heard them from Asahina the Elder the night of Tanabata, four years ago. They must’ve stopped being forbidden terminology by that time.

  “That sounds pretty dangerous, but what does it mean?”

  “It means that when we cross the surface of the time plane, we…”

  Asahina’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s.

  “… It’s no good. I can’t say it. It looks like not all the restrictions have been lifted.”

  She sounded almost relieved. I felt the same way. Too much knowledge beyond normal human wisdom could never be a good thing. It was a popular theory that if someone happened to hear the kind of classified secret that could throw a nation into chaos, he’d be hunted down just to keep him quiet.

  I shrugged, and Asahina gave me a small smile. “I’m sorry, Kyon. That’s all I can tell you right now. But I’ll tell you more soon. The fact that the restrictions were lifted even a little is proof that I’ve managed to accomplish something so far.” She smiled like a dandelion that had managed to bloom, and said it again. “Really. I’ll tell you more soon.”

  That was exactly the smile I wanted to monopolize by locking the room. Could I get someone to capture it in a photograph? I wanted to preserve this moment for eternity.

  But instead of readying a camera or barring the door, I just returned her wordless smile.

  I believe you, Asahina. I know all your hard work will be rewarded. And I know you’ll mature so much it’ll make me wonder just how much hard work you must’ve put in. I don’t know how many years it will take for you to bloom into Asahina the Elder, but for my part, I hope she doesn’t rush it.

  The closer this young-looking senior got to Asahina the Elder, the nearer our time of parting drew.

  Which meant that it wasn’t purely self-interest that made me wish for her to stay like this. Everyone would miss her. Especially Haruhi. On cold days without anyone to hug, there was no way she would be anything but sad.

  As I stood guard in the hallway while reading Nagato’s book, the female brigade chief whose power could be felt with your fingertips came walking up, her tall, lanky lieutenant brigade chief alongside her like an unpaid bodyguard.

  Seeing Koizumi with his sincere, refreshing smile made me think only one thing: he had rotten timing. If he’d come alone we would’ve been able to have a private conversation there in the hall, but with Haruhi along for the ride that was now a non-starter. I’d been inclined to tell him about what happened with Kyoko Tachibana the previous day, but knowing him he probably already had the information. He might not have even been surprised to learn about Kimidori’s job. I doubted there was anyone else in the world as hard to surprise as him.

  “Is Mikuru changing?” I didn’t know where she’d been running around, but Haruhi didn’t seem to be out of breath as she walked happily up to me, brushing me out of the way and pushing the clubroom door open without so much as knocking.

  “Wah, ah, I’m not—wait—!” cried Asahina in her adorable voice.

  “All you’ve got left to do is the fastener. That’s barely worth worrying about!”

  I entered the room, dragged forcefully in by my sleeve. Fortunately, Asahina was exactly as Haruhi had described her, her apron dress on, back facing the window, frozen in place with arms reaching behind her—that was all I saw.

  Haruhi flew past Asahina like a soccer ball kicked past the line of defenders, circling behind her to complete the final stage of dressing. Which is all just to say that she zipped the dress up and placed the hair band on her head.

  I returned Nagato’s book to its original position on the table and looked to Koizumi, whose head poked in the door like a Peeping Tom peering into the women’s side of a public bath.

  “What were you doing with Haruhi?”

  “Nothing.” Koizumi slid int
o the room like a seal swimming in the ocean, closing the door behind him, his pleasant bearing and smile never changing.

  “We just happened to meet up on the first floor, that’s all. It’s not as though we were carrying out some secret mission behind your back.”

  “I see.” That was the important thing, then. I didn’t particularly care if he left me out, but I was sure he’d have gone happily along with Haruhi if she’d decided to storm the student council and demand operating funds. And that would’ve been a headache. I wanted to avoid school intrigue for a while, I said.

  “Even so, the student council president isn’t completely foolish. If he were going to make trouble with us, he’d find a better opportunity.” Koizumi sat in his usual folding chair, directing a smile at Haruhi. “For example, if we started large-scale advertising to recruit new brigade members, he’d be all over us.”

  “I have no intention of doing anything large scale,” said Haruhi from the brigade chief’s desk, with a wave of her finger. “However, it would also be strange if we did nothing. I figured we had to at least infiltrate the club reception event. Reconnaissance by force, I think they call it. And just as I thought, the student council president came by with some nasty words, and there you have it—my observation of the enemy succeeded.”

  If she’d done all that just to gauge the student council’s response, I suppose she was a decent tactician—but I was pretty sure she’d made that up just now. It was just ex post facto justification, I said.

  “What does it matter? The outcome is the same, so the method is irrelevant. In the end, there’s no difference at all between slaving away at a part-time job to earn a hundred thousand yen and returning a million yen to its rightful owner and getting a ten percent cut for your trouble.”

  There was a huge difference, I said. You might meet a special someone on the job (Taniguchi’s theory), but more importantly, people didn’t just drop bundles of big bills by the road.

  But our glorious brigade chief only sat down in her creaking chair, ending the conversation.

  “The recruitment drive didn’t get us anywhere. However, despite the fact that there weren’t any interesting freshmen, they may yet be hiding somewhere. There may also be those agonizing over whether to join—but having thought about it over the weekend, they should’ve found the answers to any questions they might have had.”

  Flashing her pearl-white teeth, Haruhi produced a sheet of paper.

  “That’s why I posted this on the bulletin board.”

  The following was written in Haruhi’s handwriting on the A4-size sheet of copier paper: NOTICE OF BRIGADE ENTRANCE EXAMINATION. FRESHMEN ONLY.

  Beside me, Asahina had paused her tea preparation to read the notice aloud. She blinked rapidly. “Only freshmen?”

  “You like things fresh and lively, right? Fresh fish makes for the tastiest sushi. We’re aiming for the liveliest students in this year’s North High catch!”

  Was this a fishing port now?

  “But, um, it doesn’t say ‘SOS Brigade’ anywhere on this.”

  “If we talk openly about the SOS Brigade, it’ll bring the student council president down on us. This is a concession! I don’t like it, but sometimes a deliberate retreat is necessary to defeat your enemy. Writing ‘Brigade Entrance Examination’ should be enough. I mean, there aren’t any other brigades at North High!” replied Haruhi in the face of Asahina’s sharp-eyed observation.

  Since there wasn’t a cheering brigade at our school, ours was the sole organization linked to the word “brigade.” If there had been any others, I’d have been shocked.

  “Wait, Haruhi.” I had a more fundamental question to ask. “Just what is this exam? Are you actually going to make them pass a test to join the brigade?”

  “Yup.”

  Don’t say it like it’s obvious, I thought. “What kind of test?”

  “That’s a secret.”

  “When?”

  “When the examinees arrive, obviously.”

  I read the notice again. Aside from NOTICE OF BRIGADE ENTRANCE EXAMINATION, the only other information was in smaller letters below it, which read, AT THE LITERATURE CLUB ROOM.

  Haruhi swiveled her chair around and looked out the window. “Between ‘brigade entrance’ and ‘literature club room,’ if there are any freshmen who can’t figure out what these two keywords mean, they shouldn’t even bother showing up. The SOS Brigade’s name is already well-known among people who know, and if they don’t already know, I don’t want ’em. Ditto for idiots who show up asking what it is we do here.”

  I happened to be one of those idiots.

  Asahina had a far-off look as she placed the kettle on the burner. “Freshmen… new members…” There was a note of nostalgia in her voice. I wondered if it was because she was realizing that she was a senior now and would graduate in only a year.

  I gave the flyer that would only further confuse the non-initiated back to Haruhi. “Well, I hope there are a few people crazy enough to actually want to join the SOS Brigade.”

  “We don’t need crazy people, but yes, hopefully a few will show up. Otherwise the brigade exam questions I made will go to waste.”

  So that’s what she’d being banging away on the keyboard for this last week. I asked her to show it to me.

  “No way.” Haruhi stuck her tongue out. “This is a brigade secret, not something underlings like you get to see. If you want to see it, you’ll need to rise higher in the ranks.”

  I had no desire to do that, so I immediately abandoned all plans of advancement.

  Having turned on the computer, Haruhi manipulated the mouse pointer. “However, the truth is that the questions cannot yet be said to be finished. I was thinking about them all last night as I made the flyer, and I was so serious about it that I shortchanged my sleep. It’s the brigade chief’s duty, after all. I only just stuck it on the board, so I doubt anybody’s going to show up right away, but if they do, we’ll just start with the practical exam first.”

  Just how many phases were there in this test of hers? I asked.

  “That’s a secret too.”

  For the sake of the as-yet-unseen brigade applicant, I prayed that Haruhi’s preparations would come to naught as I sat down across from Koizumi. I saw that he’d already gotten the Go board out and the pieces ready.

  “Care for a game?”

  I thought we were going to play Go, but it turned out to be some old game called Renju instead.

  “It’s similar to five-in-a-row. It’s simple once you learn it.”

  I placed stones on the board as directed by Koizumi, more or less figuring out the rules of play by example.

  A cup of Asahina’s tea in one hand, I played two or three rounds against Koizumi, racking up a series of wins. I wasn’t sure whether I was quick to catch on or Koizumi was simply bad at it, but in any case this time-killing activity that did nothing to improve my academics continued for a while.

  Haruhi was typing something into the computer, Asahina was lost in reading a book on traditional-style tea, and Koizumi and I were lost in the game.

  “…?”

  I raised my head and looked around the room precisely as Haruhi noticed the abnormality, and we both spoke simultaneously.

  “Huh?”

  “Huh?”

  Our next words overlapped as well.

  “Where’s Nagato?”

  “Where’s Yuki?”

  Asahina straightened. “O-oh, now that you mention it, I made tea for her the way I always do.”

  Nagato’s teacup had been placed next to where I’d put her book. The green tea it contained hadn’t been so much as sipped, and it was now cold.

  There was a click sound, and when I looked for its source I saw Koizumi putting the Go pieces back in their container. On his handsome face, his eyebrows were minutely raised. That was his only response. The lieutenant brigade chief was silent.

  “Maybe she’s visiting the computer club.”

  Before I
could even stand, Haruhi dashed out of the room.

  What was with that impatience? Nagato wasn’t here—that was all; it wasn’t a big deal…

  Haruhi returned more quickly than the most skillfully thrown boomerang.

  “They said she’s not there.”

  “Oh, er, um. Maybe she had a class meeting or had to stay behind for something?” said Asahina with tremulous optimism, but I’d never heard of Nagato serving on any of the student committees—not conduct, beautification, or even library.

  They say that things are never as bad as they seem—wasn’t this one of those times? Nevertheless, Haruhi was fastest on the draw with her cell phone, and she immediately placed the call.

  Haruhi’s school shoes tapped lightly on the floor.

  We waited a few seconds.

  “—Ah, Yuki!”

  She seemed to have picked up. That was a relief.

  “Where are you today?”

  The silence continued for about ten seconds. Her phone pressed up against her ear, Haruhi gradually shifted her expression.

  “Huh? You’re at home?—No way!” Haruhi frowned. “A fever? Do you have a cold? Did you go see a doctor…? Ah, you didn’t. Do you have medicine?”

  Koizumi, Asahina, and I all looked to Haruhi.

  Nagato had a fever?

  Haruhi furrowed her brow deeply.

  “Yuki, you’ve got to contact us when these things happen. We were really worried! Are you sleeping properly?… Oh, I woke you. Really? Sorry… You dummy, of course it’s a big deal. I can tell from your voice. Are you all right?”

  Haruhi spoke rapidly into the phone as she pulled her bag closer to her.

  “Enough, Yuki. Get back into bed and lie down.” Haruhi give Nagato several quick instructions after that, then hung up and removed her phone from her ear.

  Still standing, she chewed her thumbnail. “This isn’t a matter of ‘oops.’ We should’ve noticed sooner. Kyon, did you realize Yuki was home sick today?”

  If I’d realized, did she think I’d be killing time looking at her stupid flyer and playing Renju?