Volume 4 - The Disappearance of Suzumiya Haruhi

by Tanigawa Nagaru

  With a sudden interest I turned my head in a diagonal direction, and there was the motionless Nagato, as if she was taking a snooze. Probably it was just me, but she was staying on the same page without progress. However, as counter-evidence that she was not taking an afternoon nap, her cheeks began to get a brush of red as she took notice of my absent-minded gaze. This Nagato the Literature Club member was either terribly shy in nature, or unaccustomed to others’ attention.

  On the outside she looked exactly the same, but she kept reacting in an unfamiliar way that stimulated my interest. Deliberately, I fixed my eyes on her in observation.

  “…”

  Though her eyes’ focus was on the pages, it was clear she was not reading a single word. Nagato gasped silently with her lips slightly apart, and her chest’s subtle heaving rhythm became gradually visible. The faint blush around her cheeks became redder by the minute. To tell the truth, this Nagato was quite — no, very cute. Though just for a moment, an idea flashed across my mind: It might not be such a bad idea to just join the Literature Club and enjoy the whole new world without Haruhi.

  But no. I would not throw in the towel just yet. I took out the bookmark from my pocket and gripped it without crushing it. Slipping this bookmark into this world meant that the Nagato who read with a triangular hat on still had some business with me. I had some business myself as well! I hadn’t tried Haruhi’s handmade dishes. I hadn’t burnt Asahina Santa’s image on my retina. My game with Koizumi was halted on my advantage as he was busy decorating the room. I would win in the end if we continued like that, so I would lose my rightful hundred yen otherwise.

  The setting sun shone through the window, and time had come for it to hide behind the campus block as a huge orange ball.

  I grew tired fixating on my seat, and nothing beneficial would come out of my brain no matter how much harder I wrung it. I stood up and reached for my bag.

  “Let’s call it a day.”

  “Okay.”

  Nagato closed her hardcover which she might have been reading or not, stuffed it in her bag and stood up. Was she by any chance waiting for me to say it aloud?

  I grabbed my bag. She did not move an inch, as if she would forever stay still until I stepped out first.

  “Hey, Nagato?”

  “What?”

  “You live alone, don’t you?”

  “…Yes.”

  She was probably thinking, how on earth did he know that?

  I was about to ask whether she lived with her family, but stopped short when I saw her eyelashes cast down subtly. Memories of her room void of almost all furnishing came back to me. My first visit was seven months ago, and the cosmic telepathic talk on a scale that knew no bounds was in many ways plain scary. The second visit was Tanabata three years ago, and I was with Asahina-san. The second visit happened earlier on the timeline than the first visit, which is some accomplishment to me.

  “How about keeping a cat? Cats are great! They may look flaccid all the time, but sometimes I just wonder if they can understand what I am saying. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are cats that can speak. I am not joking here.”

  “Pets prohibited.”

  After the response, she grew silent for some time, fluttering her eyes in sorrow. Like the sound of the wind from a soaring swallow, she took in a breath, and spoke in a brittle voice.

  “Want to come?”

  Nagato looked at my fingernails.

  “Where?”

  My fingernails asked back.

  “My home.”

  A half-note rest of silence.

  “…Can I?”

  What on earth had happened? Was she shy, timid, or aggressive? This Nagato’s psychological curve was just discontinuous! Or, is the mentality of an average high school girl nowadays just as irregular as the light curve period of Mira A?

  “Sure.”

  Nagato stepped out, escaping from my sight. She turned off the room lights, opened the door and disappeared into the corridor.

  Of course, I followed. Nagato’s room. Room 708 in a luxury apartment. I would just take a peek at the living room. I might find some new hints there.

  If I found another me sleeping there, I would wake him at once with my fist.

  On the way back from school, Nagato and I didn’t talk at all.

  Nagato only walked straight ahead down the slope in silence, stepping as if some strong chilling wind was beating against her. Her hair was ruffled, blown about by sudden gusts of wind. Looking at the back of her head, I only continued to move my legs matter-of-factly. There were not many topics I felt right to talk about, and I sensed that I had better not ask why I was invited.

  After walking for some time, Nagato finally stopped her tracks in front of the luxury apartment. How many times had I visited here? I had visited Nagato’s room twice, Asakura’s room once, and the rooftop once. Punching the password into the entrance’s keylock, Nagato unlocked the doors and stepped into the lobby without even looking back.

  She was even silent in the elevator. At the eighth room on the seventh floor she inserted the key into the door and opened it, but even then she only invited me in with a gesture.

  I walked in without a word. The room’s arrangement was not different from my memory’s impression. It was just one nondescript room. There was no other furnishing in the living room except a kotatsu. As usual, there were not even any curtains.

  And then there was the guest room. It should be the room separated by a slide door.

  “May I take a look in this room?”

  I asked Nagato, who went out of the kitchen with a Japanese tea set. Nagato blinked slowly.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Sorry for intruding.”

  The slide door slid open, as if there were bearings attached to it.

  “…”

  There were only tatami mats inside.

  Well, I should have guessed. There was no way I could have traveled to the past so many times.

  I slid the door back to its original position, and showed my open hands to Nagato who was watching over me. The gesture must have meant nothing to her. However, without a word, Nagato put two tea cups on the kotatsu table, sat up straight with her legs tucked under her, and started to pour tea.

  I sat opposite to her with my legs crossed, the same position I sat in when I visited her for the first time. I had meaninglessly drunk several cups of tea prepared by Nagato, and then listened to that monologue about the universe. It had been a season of fresh greens and extreme heat, a completely different dimension from the current coldness. Even my heart was more chilled now.

  Drinking tea face-to-face in silence, Nagato’s eyes drooped down behind her spectacles.

  For some reason Nagato was hesitating. Her mouth opened, but then shut. She looked up at me as if she had gathered her courage, but then looked down again. She repeated this a couple of times. Finally, she put her teacup aside and forced her voice out with great effort.

  “I met you before.”

  As if in addition,

  “Outside school.”

  Where?

  “Do you remember?”

  What?

  “Library.”

  Upon hearing this word, the gear at the back of my brain squeaked into action. The memory in the library with Nagato popped up. It was the inaugural first Search for the Mysterious.

  “This May,”

  Nagato drooped her eyes,

  “You helped me make a library card.”

  My psyche was electrocuted by a bolt, and failed to function.

  …Yes. Otherwise you would have been stuck in front of the bookshelves! Haruhi’s summoning came like prank calls, and there was no other way to bring us back to the gathering point quickly…

  “You…”

  However, as Nagato continued to explain, I found her description of the situation different from my impression. Here was Nagato’s explanation using her faint murmuring voice:

  Around mid-May Nagato visited the
city library for the first time, but she did not know how to create a library card. It would have been good enough if she asked one of the librarians, but the few librarians were all busy. Moreover, as an introvert who was bad with words, Nagato could not bring up her courage to ask, so she started to wander around the counter in vain. Probably unable to stand watching her like that, a high school boy who passed by volunteered all the procedures in her place.

  “That was you.”

  Nagato turned her face towards me, and our eyes met for half a second, before she dropped her eyes again on the kotatsu.

  “…”

  The dot-dot-dot was shared between Nagato and me. Silence returned to the void of the living room, but I could not come up with any words. That was because I could not possibly answer her question whether I could remember. My memory and hers were subtly different. It was true that I created the library card for her, but I was not a passer-by; instead, I was the one who took her to the library in the first place. Giving up on the Search for the Mysterious patrol that was doomed to fail, we chose to go to the library to loiter away our time. Even if my ability to remember was as tiny as an infant sea anemone, I could never forget the image of the silent Nagato in uniform.

  “…”

  Unsure of how to deal with my silence, Nagato twitched her lips with a tinge of sorrow, and made circles around the teacup rim with her slender finger. Watching the barely visible shaking of her finger, I was even more withdrawn from bringing up any topic, and the silence thickened.

  It would be simple to just answer that I remembered. It would not be a plain lie. There were just some gaps from the truth. In this case, these gaps became the biggest issues at hand.

  Why was there such a difference?

  The alien I had known had gone off to somewhere else, leaving behind only a bookmark.

  Ding-dong!

  The intercom bell broke the eternal silence. I nearly jumped in my sitting posture upon the sudden sound. Nagato’s body was shocked with surprise, and turned towards the entrance.

  The bell rang again. A new visitor had arrived. However, who on earth would visit Nagato’s room? I could not imagine a single person except a delivery man or a bill collector.

  “…”

  Like a soul just detached from its body, Nagato stood up and slid towards the wall without even the sound of footsteps. She punched some keys into the intercom panel and listened to somebody’s voice. Then she turned to me with a slightly troubled expression.

  Nagato spoke softly over the speaker, probably uttering rejections like “But…” and “Well…”

  “Wait.”

  Apparently Nagato was overpowered. She hovered towards the entrance and unlocked the door.

  “Look at who is here?”

  The girl barged in with her shoulder against the door.

  “Why are you here? That’s new — Nagato-san bringing in a guy.”

  The girl in a North High uniform was holding a pot with both hands, and skillfully took off her shoes by pressing her toes against the door sill.

  “Don’t tell me you forced yourself in!”

  Tell me first, why you are here in the first place? It is a surprising scene to see your face outside the classroom!

  “I am like a volunteer. It is a real surprise to see you here!” The beautiful face turned into a smile.

  She was the class representative that sat behind me.

  In other words, Asakura Ryouko had called in.

  “I probably made too much. It was so hot and heavy!”

  Smiling, Asakura put the large pot on the kotatsu. If one dropped by the convenience store in this season he would be greeted by this smell as well. There was oden in the pot. Was it made by Asakura?

  “Exactly. I share something like this, which does not take much time to prepare in large quantities, with Nagato-san from time to time. If you left her alone, she would just be malnourished.”

  Nagato went into the kitchen to prepare plates and chopsticks. Some clanging of dishes could be heard.

  “So? May I ask now why you are here? That interests me.”

  I ran out of words. I was here because Nagato invited me, but I don’t know why I got invited. Because of the story about the library? It would be just fine to talk about that in the club room. For me, I obediently came because I thought there might be some hints here as to what the “keys” were, but I could not just say that out loud. It would be bad to make her worry if I have mental problems.

  I made up a random lie.

  “Well… Sure. I went home along the same route with Nagato… Yeah, I am a little troubled whether I should join the Literature Club now. So I walked with her, asking for her opinions. We arrived at the apartment, but the discussion was still unfinished, so she invited me in. I was not forcing myself in.”

  “You, in the Literature Club? Pardon me, but I cannot see the match anywhere. Do you even read books? Or do you want to write them?”

  “My trouble is whether I should be reading or writing from now on. That’s all.”

  The pot lid had been lifted, and an appetite-seducing aroma filled the whole room from the kotatsu. The boiled eggs that floated and sank in the sauce had turned a great color.

  Asakura-san, who sat up straight with legs folded at the left corner, threw suspicious glances at me. It might be just me, but the glances were so sharp, if they had weight, my temple would have lots of small holes. The Asakura before turned into a serial killer midway, but for this Asakura, one could discern the deep-rooted confidence behind her dignified posture. There was no doubt this oden would be far more delicious than any other on earth. That aura put pressure on me. At this moment, I was running out of confidence in many ways. I was just wandering back and forth, nothing else.

  Unable to take it anymore, I grabbed my bag and stood up.

  “Oh, so you are not eating with us?”

  Meeting Asakura’s jeering tone with silence, I decided to retreat from the living room in stealthy footsteps.

  “Oh.”

  I nearly bumped into Nagato who was coming out from the kitchen. In Nagato’s hands was a stack of small plates, with chopsticks and a tube of ground mustard on top.

  “I am leaving. Sorry for intruding. See you.”

  I was about to walk off, when I sensed a tug as soft as a feather on my arm.

  “…”

  Nagato was pulling my sleeve with her fingers. The tug was very soft, just like how much force one might use to pick up a newborn baby hamster.

  Nagato was pulling my sleeve with her fingers. The tug was very soft, just like how much force one might use to pick up a newborn baby hamster.

  It was a faint expression. Nagato just looked down while touching my sleeve with only her fingers. Was it that she did not want me to leave? Was it that she felt suffocated being alone with Asakura? In any case I was fine with it, especially when I saw such a bitterly desperate Nagato.

  “…Just kidding! I’m gonna eat! Oh my, I am starving! If I do not have something in my stomach right now I couldn’t even survive on my way home!”

  Her fingers withdrew at last. I missed the scene somehow. Normally there was no way I could see Nagato expressing her ideas so apparently. This moment had value in its scarcity.

  Watching me hovering back to the living room, Asakura narrowed her eyes, as if she had understood it all.

  I focused wholly on stuffing oden into my mouth. My taste buds screamed from the delicious pleasure, but the bottom of my heart failed to recognize exactly what I was eating. Nagato’s focus was on her every tiny chew, and she took almost three minutes just to chew and swallow her tangle (konbu). Among the three of us, only Asakura was talking cheerfully and I bounced back half-hearted answers at her from start to end.

  As if having a bivouac outside the Gate of Hell, the meal went on for more than an hour, and my shoulders had grown very stiff.

  Finally, Asakura stood up.

  “Nagato-san, please put the remaining portions in another c
ontainer and put it in the freezer. I will come to get the pot tomorrow, so please keep the pot till then.”

  I followed her. It was like being released from all bindings. Giving an ambiguous nod, Nagato drooped her eyes as she saw us off at the door.

  I confirmed that Asakura had left first before I whispered to Nagato.

  “See you. Can I visit the club room tomorrow too? I have nowhere else to go to after school.”

  Nagato fixed her eyes on me, and…

  …Gave a faint but definite *smile*.

  I was literally dazzled.

  During the elevator’s descent, Asakura chuckled.

  “Hey, do you like Nagato-san?”

  Well, it’s not that I hate her. Choosing between Like or Hate, I would choose the former, but I have no reason to hate her in the first place. She is my savior. Yup. Asakura, it is Nagato Yuki who saved me from that murderous blade of yours, so how can I hate her?

  … I could not say the above. This Asakura was not that Asakura, and the same went for Nagato. In this world I seemed to be the only one that had a different perspective on things, and everybody else had turned normal. There was no SOS Brigade at all.

  How did this beautiful classmate of mine interpret my silence to her question? She just laughed through her nose.

  “No way, I see. I’ve been reading too much, I guess. Your favorite type would be much more on the weird side, and Nagato-san just doesn’t fit the profile.”

  “How do you know my favorite type?”

  “I just happened to hear that from Kunikida-san. You were in the same class in junior high, right?”

  That bastard, nosing around with such crap. That was just Kunikida’s misconception. Please ignore.