The Boredom of Haruhi Suzumiya

by Nagaru Tanigawa

  Nagato would be reading in silence. Koizumi would be grinning as he solved shogi problems. Asahina would be waiting on everyone in her maid outfit. Haruhi would be talking and yelling and shouting about who knows what. My recent routine included having to listen to her bellowing.

  I guess I shouldn’t say recent when I suspect it’s been like this since the beginning.

  As I knocked on the door today, I started to get a sinking feeling. I was expecting a “Yes?” in Asahina’s muffled voice, but I got something else instead.

  “Come in!”

  The greeting was delivered by Haruhi’s casual voice, and I entered the room to find that she was the only one there. She had her elbows propped up on the brigade chief’s desk as she fiddled with the computer she’d extorted from the computer society.

  “Oh. It’s just you.”

  “Yuki’s also here.”

  Nagato was, in fact, sitting at the corner of the table with an open book, like a statue as always. She’s like an accessory for this room so you don’t have to include her. She never committed to joining the SOS Brigade either, and she’s officially a member of the literary club. But I should still correct myself.

  “Oh. It’s just you and Nagato.”

  “Yeah, you have a complaint about it? I’m willing to hear you out. After all, I am the brigade chief.”

  “If I were to list out my complaints concerning you, I’d end up completely covering both sides of a sheet of legal-sized paper.”

  “I’m the one who feels disappointed. Knocking on the door made me think that a visitor had come to see us, you know. Don’t confuse me like that.”

  I was taking extreme care so I didn’t end up accidentally witnessing Asahina changing her clothes in the flesh. That lovable and careless person has been having a hard time remembering to lock the door.

  And what do you mean by a visitor? Who’s going to visit this place?

  Haruhi turned to glare at me.

  “Don’t you remember?”

  That made me jump. She couldn’t be talking about what happened on Tanabata three years ago, right?

  “You’re the one who did it. Without obtaining my permission.”

  “What might you be talking about?”

  “The poster you put up on the bulletin board in the clubhouse.”

  Oh, that. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  She was talking about the fake club policy I’d made up to try to get the student council to accept the SOS Brigade. After concluding that a brigade which ran around looking for mysterious phenomena wouldn’t have a chance, I indicated to the student council that the SOS Brigade should be allowed to continue as a sort of counseling group for all students. The executive committee called me an idiot and that was the end of that.

  But I’d already made a poster. I don’t really remember what I put on it, but it was probably something along the lines of “We’ll listen to your problems.” Since I’d already bothered making the thing, I stuck it up on a bulletin board that happened to catch my eye. After all, I assumed that it didn’t really matter who saw this thing when there weren’t any psychopaths who would seek counseling from the SOS Brigade. And it appeared I was right since we hadn’t seen a single client yet, which was a very good thing.

  Still, Haruhi had remembered this whole thing and been expecting clients to show up? I should probably go take that thing down on my way home. It’d get ugly if someone actually showed up with some kind of weird problem.

  As I made this decision in the corner of my mind, Haruhi moved the mouse around.

  “Anyway, look at this. Something’s odd. Maybe the computer’s acting up?”

  I glanced past Haruhi’s hair. The SOS Brigade’s homepage was displayed spitefully on the monitor. But it was subtly different from the one I’d made. The crappy emblem Haruhi had drawn was distorted as though it’d been gathered like in sewing. And the counter and the title logo were just plain gone. I tried refreshing the page but nothing changed. It was like somebody had used a mosaic filter on the whole thing.

  “It doesn’t seem to be a problem with the computer. Looks like the file on the server is corrupt.”

  I wasn’t that familiar with the Internet, but I at least knew that much. I happened to think of checking the version of the website stored locally, which loaded just fine in the browser.

  “How long has it been like this?”

  “Beats me. I’ve only been checking our e-mail the past few days so I haven’t been on the website. It was like this when I looked today. Where do I direct my complaints?”

  There’s no need to complain to anyone. Just needs a simple fix. I took the mouse from Haruhi and overwrote the home-page file on the server with the one saved on this computer. Then I reloaded the page.

  “Hmm?”

  The site was still corrupted. I repeated the process a number of times but the result was the same. It appeared that we were dealing with a technical malfunction beyond my pay grade.

  “Isn’t this strange? Maybe it’s one of those hackers or crackers I’ve heard about?”

  “No way,” I said. I really doubt someone would be bored enough to crack a site that nobody links to or visits. It must be some kind of error.

  “Now I’m pissed. Is somebody committing cyberterrorism against the SOS Brigade? Who is it? If I find that person, I’ll skip the trial and sentence him to thirty days of community service.”

  I turned away from the raging Haruhi to look at Nagato with her semblance of active camouflage. Maybe she can deal with this. I had this arbitrary image of Nagato being familiar with computers, but I’d never actually seen her using one. Actually, I should say that I’ve never seen her do anything besides read.

  That was when someone knocked on the door.

  “Come in!” Haruhi responded and the door opened to reveal Koizumi. He had the usual animated smile on his face.

  “Oh. Now this is rare. Asahina has yet to show up?”

  “Don’t second-years have extra testing?”

  The last day of finals for us first-years ended at third period. We could have gone home already, so why did we have to meet up in this place? Do I have no friends or something? And Haruhi, you’re not going to give Koizumi the whole spiel about knocking on the door?

  Koizumi set his bag on the side of the table as he pulled a Chinese checkers board from the cabinet and shot me an inviting glance. I shook my head, so Koizumi shrugged and began playing by himself.

  I can’t wait for Asahina’s tea.

  Knock knock.

  Someone was knocking on the door again. I happened to be sitting at the brigade chief’s desk as I struggled with an FTP program. Haruhi stood behind me and rattled off orders that were spontaneous and wrong, which meant I was forced to deal with her unreasonable demands.

  Which was why the knocking on the door sounded like salvation to my ears.

  “Come in!” Haruhi yelled again and the door opened. By process of elimination, it had to be Asahina.

  “Ah, sorry about being late.”

  The person who apologized hesitantly upon appearance was none other than the wingless angel, Asahina.

  “I had tests until fourth period…” she said by way of excuse when it wasn’t necessary, as she hesitantly stood in the doorway. For some reason, she didn’t enter the room and just stood there.

  “Um, well…”

  Everyone turned to look at Asahina. Once Asahina noticed that even Nagato was looking at her, she took a step back as though she were flinching before resolving to speak.

  “W-Well… I brought a visitor.”

  The visitor’s name was Emiri Kimidori. A second-year girl who appeared to be both soft-spoken and well groomed.

  At the moment, the visitor was sitting with her head down in a chair, her eyes focused on the tea Asahina had poured. Asahina was sitting in a chair next to her. As you would expect, she hadn’t changed into her maid outfit. A pity.

  “So basically,” Haruhi said, looking like an intervie
wer as she twirled a ballpoint pen. She sat across from the two second-years and spoke with a superior air.

  “You want the SOS Brigade to look for your missing boyfriend, right?”

  Haruhi balanced the pen on her upper lip as she crossed her arms. A gesture suggesting that she was deep in thought, but I knew better. She was just trying to hold herself back from bursting into laughter.

  Man. I’d been all optimistic that we’d never get any visitors, yet here we were with our first counseling client. Haruhi probably wanted to jump with joy.

  “Yes,” Kimidori said to the teacup.

  Nagato, Koizumi, and I were watching from the corner of the room. Haruhi looked at the two second-years.

  “Hmm.”

  She hummed in an exaggerated fashion as she exchanged a look with me.

  I was really starting to hate myself. I shouldn’t have made that stupid poster. What’d I even put on it? Something about helping with the problems you couldn’t tell anyone else… I think. Still, I didn’t think any students would take it seriously. I mean, normally, you wouldn’t, right?

  Nevertheless, serious or not, Kimidori had seen the poster and had mistaken the SOS Brigade for a group that offered counseling for all students or performed odd jobs. I suppose that would be the literal interpretation of what I had written. Oh, now I remember. The club activities I’d made up had been “counseling in regards to school life, consulting services, and participation in local volunteer activities.” At the moment, the SOS Brigade had nothing to do with any of those activities. We hadn’t done anything beyond messing up a baseball tournament.

  Still, the stuff written on that poster had caught Kimidori’s eye and alerted her to our existence, leading her to approach Asahina, who was in the same school year and brought her to this place. I suppose that’s how it went.

  As for her problem…

  “He hasn’t come to school for many days now.”

  Kimidori stared at the rim of the teacup as she spoke, refusing to meet anybody’s eyes.

  “He is rarely absent, yet he even missed a test day. Something must be wrong.”

  “Did you try calling him?” Haruhi asked. She was biting on the end of the ballpoint pen, maybe to prevent herself from cracking a smile.

  “Yes. He doesn’t answer his cell or his home phone. I went to his home, but the door was locked. Nobody answered the door.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  There’s no denying that anybody who finds pleasure in the misfortune of others is a jerk, but Haruhi had such a strong aura of happiness about her that I was expecting her to burst into song any second. In other words, she’s a jerk. Q.E.D.

  “What about your boyfriend’s family?”

  “He lives by himself.” Kimidori spoke to her cup. Apparently, it was her nature to talk to people without looking them in the eyes. “I heard that his parents live overseas. I don’t have their contact information.”

  “Heh. Would they happen to be in Canada?” Haruhi said.

  “No. I believe it was Honduras.”

  “Aha. Honduras, huh? I see.”

  What do you see? I doubt you even know where it is. Uh… Was it somewhere below Mexico?

  “There wasn’t any sign that he’d been in the room. It was completely dark when I visited at night. I’m so worried,” Kimidori said in a forced voice as she covered her face with her hands. Haruhi pursed her lips.

  “Hmm. I can understand how you feel.”

  Like hell you can. You couldn’t possibly understand how it feels to be a girl in love.

  “In any case, I’m surprised you came to see the SOS Brigade. Start by telling me your motive.”

  “Yes. He often mentioned you. That’s how I knew about you.”

  “Huh? Who’s your boyfriend?”

  Kimidori murmured the name of a male student in response to Haruhi’s question. I felt like I’d heard it before, but I didn’t know anybody by that name. Haruhi’s brow creased.

  “Who is that?”

  Kimidori spoke in a voice like a soft breeze.

  “He mentioned being neighbors with the SOS Brigade.”

  “Neighbors?”

  Haruhi looked up at the ceiling. Kimidori turned, looking at Asahina and me with our heads tilted before moving on to Koizumi and Nagato. But she never met our eyes and she then returned to staring at the teacup. Then she spoke.

  “He serves as the president of the computer society.”

  And there you have it.

  I had completely forgotten about that. That poor president, huh? The one who’d been photographed sexually harassing Asahina (against his will) and Haruhi had used that as leverage to acquire a top-of-the-line computer (by force). And to add insult to injury, the pitiful upperclassman who was the computer research society’s president had even been forced to hook everything up while in tears. Wait, there’s no need to feel sorry for him. If he has such a nice girlfriend, that makes up for pretty much anything. That’s right. I wonder if the disposable camera we used was still sitting around somewhere.

  “Yep, I got it!” Haruhi accepted readily. “We’ll take care of it. You’re in luck, Kimidori. As our first client, you get your problem solved free of charge as a bonus.”

  It won’t be considered a school service if you charge money. Still, is there actually a problem for us to solve? Isn’t it possible that the president merely turned into a hikikomori—a shut-in? I have no idea what his beef is when he’s got a girlfriend like Kimidori, but I’m pretty sure he’ll recover by himself eventually if you just leave him alone.

  Of course, I didn’t say any of that out loud. Kimidori left a slip of paper with her boyfriend’s address before leaving the club room like a corporeal ghost.

  Asahina had gone out into the hallway to see her off so I waited for her to return before opening my mouth.

  “Hey, are you sure about accepting her request so readily? What if we can’t solve her problem?”

  Haruhi twirled the ballpoint pen around in good humor.

  “We can do it. He’s probably just cooped up with a two-month-late case of May sickness. We just have to march into his room, smack him around a few times, and drag him back here. Piece of cake.”

  It appeared that she actually believed what she was saying. Well, I felt the same way, more or less.

  I asked Asahina, who was pouring us more tea.

  “Are you friends with Kimidori?”

  “No, I’ve never talked with her before. She’s in the class next door so I’ve seen her during joint classes.”

  She could have gone to a teacher or the police instead of coming to us. Well, maybe she already talked to them. And they ignored her so she approached Asahina. That’s probably how it went.

  There was no sense of urgency as we sipped our tea. Haruhi appeared to be in unreasonably high spirits as she planned on accepting bigger requests and resolving them. Just stop.

  Nagato closed her book with a thud and we proceeded with what Haruhi called an investigation.

  The president lived in a studio apartment. Based on its location, I’d assume that most of the residents were college students. The three-story building wasn’t great but it wasn’t shabby either, and the paint looked good enough—it wasn’t brand-new but it wasn’t old either. An extremely ordinary place in appearance. Commonplace.

  Holding the slip of paper with the address in her hand, Haruhi went up the stairs. The rest of us silently followed the summer uniform–clad figure.

  “This is the place.”

  Haruhi checked the nameplate next to the metal door. The name Kimidori had given as her boyfriend’s was inserted in the plastic casing.

  “I wonder if there’s a way to open it.”

  Haruhi rattled the doorknob a few times before pressing the button on the intercom. It should be the other way around.

  “Why don’t we circle around to the balcony in the back? We’ll be able to get in if we smash the window, right?”

  I’m praying that she’s joking.
This room is on the third floor and we aren’t a bunch of juvenile delinquent thieves. I don’t want a criminal record yet.

  “Guess so. Let’s go ask the landlord to lend us a key. If we tell him that we’re worried about our friend, he should lend it to us.”

  Since you’re good at pretending to be a friend. Still, the president lives by himself yet he never gave his girlfriend a spare key. That’s like keeping the stem of an eggplant and throwing away the fruit.

  Click.

  Upon hearing a cold sound, I turned to find Nagato silently gripping the doorknob.

  “…”

  Nagato stared at me with eyes like liquid helium. She slowly pulled on the door and opened the entrance to the room. For some reason, the stagnant air inside created this chilling and lurking sort of feeling.

  “Oh.”

  Haruhi’s eyes were wide as saucers and her mouth was open in a half-circle.

  “It was open? I didn’t realize that. Well, whatever. Come on. Let’s go inside. He’s probably hiding under the bed or something. We’ll drag him out and capture him. If he resists, you have my permission to kill him. We’ll soak his head in beeswax and present it to the client.”

  Apparently, she didn’t feel a single atom of guilt about stealing the computer. And we aren’t dealing with Salome here. What’s she going to do with a severed head?

  She cheerfully pushed us all inside to find that the room was empty. Not even a single cockroach. Haruhi checked the bathroom and looked under the bed but there was nothing resembling a human being anywhere. The place was one fourth the size of the living room in Nagato’s place but it had four times as much evidence of life. There was a bookshelf, a closet, something that looked like a small coffee table, and a computer rack all arranged neatly. We opened the window to check the balcony but there was only a washing machine hidden back there.

  “That’s odd.”

  Haruhi tilted her head as she bounced on the bed.

  “I expected him to be curled up in a ball in some corner hugging his knees. Did he go to the convenience store? Kyon, do you know any other places a hikikomori might go?”