Volume 8 - The Indignation of Suzumiya Haruhi

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Volume 8 - The Indignation of Suzumiya Haruhi Page 7

by Tanigawa Nagaru


  However, there was nothing in me to present. I wasn’t qualified to join the recital.

  The man started singing in a low voice. Synchronizing with the white cloth’s dance.

  As long as he doesn’t leave, I cannot go in.

  “Hmm. This is pretty disturbing.”

  Dropping the third page on my desk, I sympathized with Haruhi.

  As I’d expected from Nagato, she even writes cryptically. It felt like she had completely ignored the fantasy horror theme, and it turned out more like a poem than a story.

  “But it doesn’t look like your ordinary poem.”

  As Haruhi piled up the three pages of copy paper, and stuffed them into her bag,

  “Hey Kyon. To me, it doesn’t seem like Yuki just wrote this without thinking. Really, it made me feel like it was reflecting Yuki’s inner self. But the ghost and coffin, what do you think those are metaphors for?”

  “How should I know.”

  I answered, but the truth was, I felt like I was able to read into it on some level, somehow. I don’t think the “I” from the story could be anyone but Nagato. But as for the other characters, the “Ghost Girl”, the “Man”, and the “Apparition Girl”, it seemed like the ghost and the apparition are the same person, but somehow again, the man seemed to be Koizumi, and the girl gives a feeling like Asahina-san. Perhaps she had modeled the characters after people who were nearby at the moment. Haruhi and I may not have come out, but as far as the desire to make an appearance, I was not too self-conscious about it.

  “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  I gazed outside the window, and as I looked down at the empty tennis courts,

  “It’s a story that Nagato wrote in her own way. Trying to read the author’s inner thoughts from a story, is just troublesome. Such a question is only good for Modern Literature.”

  “Oh, well.”

  Haruhi also looked out the window. There wasn’t any snow falling out of season, but with eyes that looked as if they were observing flurries, she turned to me, smiling like a spring flower.

  “For Yuki’s part, I’m okaying this. Who knows where it will go if I tell her to retake it. Koizumi-kun seems to be doing well in his writing, and Mikuru-chan’s picture book seems to be going as planned.”

  That smiling face was transforming from the Brigade Chief to the Editor-in-Chief.

  “And then? How about you? I haven’t received your prologue yet, but when are you going to finish?”

  I was hoping that she’d forgotten, but I was wrong.

  “I’m telling you.”

  Haruhi smiled eerily,

  “You better write a proper story. Of course, I’ll reject it if it isn’t romantic; no horrors, mysteries, or fairy-tales. And don’t try to deceive me in some strange way.”

  I looked around the classroom in search of salvation.

  Truth is, I haven’t written a single line. Which should be no surprise. What’ll happen if I don’t write something that looks like a romance story? That question was now running around inside my body faster than my resistance against the influenza virus; I had thought of hiring Taniguchi and Kunikida, fellows who had also not written a single line, as my reinforcements, but my own two friends, who had kept sneaking peeks this way as they huddled covertly some time ago, averted their eyes together, and at the time when I was crossing myself as it seemed like Haruhi was going to crush the allied troops, the chime that signaled the start of class had rung at last.

  So, I was able to avoid the up-and-coming burden for a short time; although I couldn’t totally escape, I had succeeded in putting it off for a good couple of minutes anyway.

  But you, about the romance story.

  As I pretended to take the period’s lessons diligently, I was thinking as deep as a sunken ship that had fallen in the Challenger Deep.

  Well now, what to write?

  After classes, when I went to the club room to escape Haruhi’s manuscript demands,

  “How about writing something from your real experiences?”

  Koizumi said as his fingers glided over the keyboard of his notebook computer non-stop.

  “Has romance ever gotten you all tangled up? If so, it would be practical to just write it as it is, and stick to declaring that it’s fiction. I recommend that you write it in first-person perspective. In your case, it shouldn’t be a problem to transform your usual thinking into writing.”

  “Is that sarcasm?”

  I replied negligently, before I turned my eyes back to work gazing at the screen saver being displayed on the notebook computer screen.

  The club room had become a place of temporary repose. The reason being, Haruhi was not at her desk.

  Haruhi, who had been planning on waging total war with the Student Council, displayed such shrewdness that I wanted to attach “Demon” to a portion of the “Editor-in-Chief” arm band, and was now running around here and there.

  Her very first targets were the nearby classmates, Taniguchi and Kunikida.

  Her very first targets were the nearby classmates, Taniguchi and Kunikida. As soon as homeroom ended, Haruhi swiftly captured Taniguchi who had thought of escaping from the classroom, and with “I’m going home” and “You can’t go home” the rebellion was unfurled, and with Kunikida, who had been watching the failed getaway, also in hand, she forcibly sat them down, and then pushed a sheaf of blank loose-leaf paper in front of them as she made a declaration.

  “There will be no going home until you finish writing!”

  With her face looking strangely delighted, what was it, I don’t know if she’d woken up to a new hobby of inflicting pain.

  Taniguchi kept pouting and complaining, while Kunikida slowly shook his head as he grasped his mechanical pencil. Though Kunikida was somewhat composed, Taniguchi looked seriously annoyed, and I could see that everything Haruhi was doing was leading him to missing the bus ride to heaven in the future, so to speak. I know the feeling. If they didn’t immediately write an interesting essay as Haruhi had said she was expecting, they couldn’t even think of escaping.

  “Just what is this interesting days essay, anyway?” Taniguchi said.

  “Kyon, your days are probably all interesting. You should be the one to write this.”

  No way. I’m already full up with my own work.

  “Suzumiya-san, isn’t twelve parts too much for a column?” Kunikida leisurely said, “Can’t we go with five parts at most? English, Math, Classics, Chemistry, and Physics are my specialties, but I’m poor at Biology, Japanese History, and Civics.”

  That many specialties is plenty, so I’ll also be anticipating your manuscript. Twelve columns of Subject-by-Subject-Study-Aids. If these are really helpful, there’s nothing I’d want to read more.

  Haruhi said to the captive twosome,

  “I’ll be back in one hour. If you have nothing at that time…… You understand, don’t you?”

  After making the clear threat, she dashed out of the classroom. She must be busy with other things, this Editor-in-Chief of ours.

  On the other hand, I have to add that there were also people with free time who had willingly accepted Haruhi’s writing commissions.

  One of those people, needless to say, is Tsuruya-san. The upper-classman who was, perhaps, as skillful in everything as Haruhi,

  “You okay to write something?”

  At Haruhi’s abstract request, she readily and quickly gave her consent,

  “When’s the deadline? Okay, I’ll make sure to finish by then! Wahaha, how interesting!”

  She answered with a smile. Just what is she planning on writing?

  And there was another person, or should I say, a group of persons. The Computer Research Club. In addition to the course of the fixed computer game war, they had also called on Nagato now and then, and the original Brigade Chief, who had leapt into the Computer Club that she had completely changed into the SOS Brigade Second Branch in typical Haruhi fashion, got their definite promise to write a Complete Reviews
of the Latest Computer Games・The Game-Breaking Primer, something totally unfamiliar to me, before coming back. For some reason, everyone in the Computer Club, from the President and below, seemed to be fairly eager. Incidentally, since I haven’t played any legitimate games on the computer, I wasn’t interested one bit.

  Haruhi’s work did not end with that. Haruhi had thought of making the cover of the club journal a little better, so she took off on foot to the Art Club, asked who the best, most expert club member was at drawing, and coerced a one-page drawing from that person, and since it wasn’t flowery enough with only text, she had thought that an illustration was also necessary, and she placed a rush order with the Manga Club. I thought it was just too much trouble, but unfortunately, since I wasn’t synchronized with how much other people were troubled, I left Taniguchi and Kunikida in the classroom, and headed for the club room.

  Haruhi’s figure was nowhere in the club room. She must still be running around school for the aforementioned reasons, and although I should feel greatly relieved by that, the time I spend staring at the screen saver is far from relaxing.

  “Hnn, hnn.”

  Sitting at the table with a grim expression on her face, was the rare sight of Asahina-san in her sailor uniform.

  At this time, Asahina-san’s chic picture book fairy-tale was not yet finished, so all I can see was her figure leaning her head over the table as she moved her pencil over the paper, and I had to become the tea server myself.

  Beside her, Nagato was maintaining her usual air. Around that figure, who looked like an avid reader type with a hard-cover book open before her, the sense of a finished task was drifting about.

  “…………”

  With the three-page short short that she had submitted to Haruhi, it was judged that her own duties were concluded, and she had completely returned to being the Nagato of before. The invisible aura she had formerly displayed in the Student Council room seemed like it was just a lie.

  And if it were a lie, I must honestly confess that I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be worried by such a Nagato. What feelings did Nagato have when she wrote such a strange pseudo-story, or wasn’t she thinking anything by letting Haruhi see it, or how I wished she would make an author’s note on just what kind of story it was; there were many questions I wanted to ask her, but rather than talk about it in front of Asahina-san and Koizumi, I’ll just have to wait.

  When it’s just the two of us, I’ll grab the chance.

  I took my eyes off the Literature Club member who was in her Normal Mode as she expressionlessly read a book. There were only two computers running on the table. Like its owner’s lips, the notebook computer in front of Nagato had its lid shut like a shellfish and had been put away to the side.

  If I could, I wanted to do that, too. My body, which was feeling remorse for wasting the Earth’s limited resources, should just immediately turn off the switch of the computer that had been given to me. Powered up as it was, it was just a waste of energy, and while I was at it, I wanted to turn off the switch to my head and go into a deep sleep at once.

  I was giving a sigh as I was thinking all of that, when Koizumi chimed in.

  “There’s no need to think about it so deeply. You should just write the facts.”

  It must be easy for you to put what’s already in your head to writing, but I can’t think up something from scratch. Tell me about your romantic experiences, will you. I could write a lovely story with you as the leading part.

  “I’d rather hold off on that.”

  Koizumi rested his touch-typing hands, and turned to me with a questioning smile. And with a soft voice,

  “You really have nothing? In all your life up till now, to be a captive of love, and to go out with a girl? No, maybe not this first year of high school―――since you can’t write about that, how about something from before? What about middle school?”

  As I looked up at the ceiling and consulted my past memories, Koizumi’s voice grew softer and softer,

  “Do you remember what I told you during the grass-lot baseball tournament?”

  How could I, you’re a bastard who talks about a lot of things. I won’t even try to keep your lines memorized in detail.

  “Since Suzumiya-san desired it, you became the fourth batter; I think you remember our chat about that.”

  I looked suspiciously at Koizumi’s gentleman-like smile. That again?

  “Yes, that again. In short, your drawing of the lot for the romance story was not by chance.”

  I, too, have long been doubtful of the odds in lotteries. I know that you can make someone draw a particular lot even if you’re not a magician.

  I glanced at Nagato; she didn’t seem to be particularly listening. And Asahina-san looked like she was doing her best to make friends with the pencil and the eraser.

  “That is to say, I think Suzumiya-san wants to know about your previous romantic patterns. And so, she had made one of the genres a romance story. An unreservedly romantic experience―――since she’s never had one, Suzumiya-san had expressed some hesitation.”

  Just where is there anything like hesitation within her? She’s the kind of person who just bowls you over without any restraint or greeting.

  Koizumi smiled lightly,

  “It’s in that part of her that we call the heart. Yes, Suzumiya-san looks like a person who knows exactly where that thin line lies. But it was probably unconscious, and assuming it were, then we can add that her senses are brilliantly keen. In fact, she has never acted like she would step into our hearts with her shoes on. Or at least she’s never acted that way to me. Well, on the other hand, I could only go into Suzumiya-san’s mind a little bit.”

  And I’ve only gone about twice, now that you mention it.

  “But I’m still not conceding the line that she is a girl without restraints.”

  I said; I could offer that much resistance, at least.

  “Otherwise, she wouldn’t have kicked down the door to enter the Student Council room, or commandeer the Literature Club in the first place. Or made me write such a thing.”

  “That’s okay, isn’t it? This is enjoyable work. An activity to protect a small and weak club; high school students making a resistance against the big and powerful Student Council…….”

  Koizumi had become rather eerie as his refreshing eyes got this distant look in them, before he regained his smile.

  “The truth is, I have fantasized about such a school-life. More and more, I am acknowledging Suzumiya-san’s divinity, and at times I’ve felt like I wanted to kneel down and worship her. Because she has granted me my dream.”

  That was through your own scripting. If you’re pulling the other end of the string, then how is that the realization of your dream? But I appreciate the effort.

  “Nevertheless, your drawing of that lot was not of my manipulation. Let’s go back to what we were talking about before. What I’m saying is, it’s easy to understand that Suzumiya-san is hoping you will write something like your philosophy on love. And if I may say so, I’d like to know that as well.”

  Koizumi, in a bit louder voice,

  “From what I’ve happened to hear, wasn’t there a girl you were close to in Middle School? How about something like that episode?”

  So you keep saying. But there’s totally no such story.

  As I narrowed the space between my eyebrows, and rubbed it with my fingers, I stole a glance at the faces of the other two people in the clubroom.

  Asahina-san was focusing all of her heart at working on her illustrated fairy-tale, and it didn’t look like our conversation was reaching her ears.

  As for Nagato―――,

  Though she also seemed to be concentrating all of her optic nerves on reading, I couldn’t be sure about the sensitivity of her ears, and besides that, I really don’t think it’s possible to hide something from Nagato no matter how much I lower my voice.

  That main thing is, why was I getting this guilty feeling? How did
Kunikida, Nakagawa, and all my other classmates in middle school come to such a strange misunderstanding all together? It’s nothing short of a mystery.

  “At any rate, I don’t plan on writing that story, either.”

  I declared. To that bastard whose eyes were smiling in amusement in particular―――hey Koizumi, what’s with the knowing look? Because it’s all wrong. And it isn’t because it’s something I forgot from the past, either. It’s a real meaningless story, anyway.

  “Let’s leave it at that, then.”

  Though what he said irritated me, Koizumi went on and gave a new suggestion without stopping.

  “So please, hurry up and recall one thing from your memories that you could write about. Just how many of those could there be? Somebody you dated somewhere, or a confession from someone.”

  None.

  I was about to say, but I stopped with my mouth half-open. Seeing that, Koizumi’s smile grew wider.

  “There is something? Yes, of course there is. Along with Suzumiya-san, it’s a story that I want to know, incidentally. Please write about that.”

  Since when did you become Assistant Editor-in-Chief? You should just be diligent and go novelize the case of Shamisen’s disappearance as well. I can decide what I’m going to write by myself.

  “Of course, the decision is yours. I’m simply an observer; the most I could say would be an adviser. I just felt like speaking on Suzumiya-san’s behalf right now.”

  Koizumi shrugged his shoulders, finishing up his conversation with me as he turned his fingertips back to his own notebook computer.

  I began thinking.

  Sorry Koizumi, but you still guessed wrong. Within your imagination, there might’ve been something about a middle-school-me having truly middle-school-student-like boy-girl relations whirling around, but, though I’m not proud of it, no one has ever confessed to me or anything like that even up to now, and I’ve never given one, either. My first love was my cousin Nee-chan whom I didn’t see for years, but that Nee-chan had ended up eloping with some good-for-nothing guy. Though that was somewhat traumatic, it was also a long time ago.

 

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