The Wavering of Haruhi Suzumiya (19 page)

Once Asahina’s earlobe turned red from her nibbling, Haruhi checked the time again.

“Hey, everybody, it’s time!”

At Haruhi’s direction, we all sat in a circle, kneeling down in the traditional way. In addition to the five SOS Brigade members, Tsuruya was also part of the circle, and next to her sat my sister and the two cats. Also, the bonus quartet of the Tamaru brothers, the butler, and the maid joined us at Haruhi’s behest. Were they really all right with that? I wondered. If things went badly, they’d wind up getting ordered around like brigade members.

But my worries aside, everyone was smiling their own unique smiles. And why not? Show me a guy who’s frowning on a day like this, and I’ll show you a guy who doesn’t have a calendar. I couldn’t think of a reason to complain.

When Haruhi gave the signal, we all bowed and said the standard Happy New Year phrase:
omedetou gozaimasu
.

It’s old and boring, but if we changed it, we’d surely miss that phrase.

All kinds of things had happened over the winter break, but stuff had turned out pretty much the way I’d expected, just like when you buy a lottery ticket and wind up not winning anything. The events of this story happened after I’d trudged up the hill to school again, cursing the school’s cheap construction that made the bitterly cold weather seem even more bitterly cold.

Perhaps thanks to global warming, there hadn’t been much snow, but that small favor was made up for by the fact that my classroom’s lackluster heater seemed to keep the room’s temperature roughly at the level of the South Pole. As I wondered if I’d be stuck with heaters like that until I graduated, I started to feel like I’d made a terrible mistake by picking North High, and I was ashamed of my junior high school self—but I was here now, so there was no helping it.

Today, as usual, I was headed to the SOS Brigade’s headquarters in the clubroom building, to idle away the after-school hours.

The room had originally belonged to the literature club, but the previous year it had been annexed by the SOS Brigade for use as its hideout—it’s hard to imagine a better example of giving someone an inch, only to have them take a mile. I got the feeling that the student body was beginning to forget there had ever been a literature club, and given Nagato’s feelings as the sole member of said club, I wasn’t inclined to worry about it too much. And if I wasn’t worrying, you could bet Haruhi wasn’t either.

In any case, this was where I went after school, and I had to admit I had nowhere else to go. Although I did occasionally consider ditching the brigade and going straight home, I would imagine a certain someone sitting behind me during class and staring killer laser beams at my back all day, and such fantasies would vanish like mist. This risk calculation was based on real-world experience, though whether that experience would help guide humanity down the right path, I had no idea.

Such things went through my mind as I arrived at the clubroom door and knocked, as was my habit. If I just opened the door without any notice, there was a decent possibility that I would be greeted by a heavenly vision—but the knock was performed precisely to avoid that happening.

Going by the normal after-school routine, my knock would be answered by a soft “Come in!” and a beautiful second-year student so lovely you’d think she was an angel or a fairy or a spirit—take your pick—would open the door with a modest smile.

“—”

I waited, and waited some more—and there was no answer.

Which meant that not only was the resident angel/fairy/spirit not here, but neither was the board game–loving pretty boy; if someone were there, it would have to be the near-silent literature freak. And I was willing to bet just about anything except my own life on the fact that Haruhi wasn’t there.

So I grasped the doorknob and opened the door as casually as I would open my refrigerator at home.

Haruhi was indeed not there. Nor was Koizumi. Not even Nagato.

However—

Asahina was there.

The petite, well-endowed second-year student wore her maid outfit, her profile as lovely as ever. She sat on a folding chair, hands grasping a broom as she sat there dazed, her mind elsewhere.

What could this be? Such a mood hardly suited her.

She didn’t seem to have noticed that I’d entered the room as she stared off into space, a quiet sigh escaping her lips. Even her ennui was picture-perfect, like a scene from a movie that had required countless takes to capture. So nice.

After watching her for a while, I spoke up.

“Asahina?”

The effect was instantaneous.

“Huh? Oh, um, er—yes!”

Asahina jumped up from the chair, half standing, half sitting as she clutched the broom to her chest and looked at me with surprised eyes.

“Ah, Kyon! When did you…?”

When? After I knocked, I told her.

“Oh goodness, I didn’t notice you at all… I-I’m sorry.”

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and she hurriedly tried to explain.

“I was just thinking about… um… things. I’m sorry, really.”

She hurried to put the broom away in the supply closet, then looked back to me. Her eyes were amazing. Everything about her was amazing. All hail Asahina! If I wasn’t careful, I’d wind up just hugging her out of nowhere. It almost felt like I had to. Yes, fine, I’d do it! No, wait, get a grip, Kyon. But just before the desperate battle between the angel and devil in my mind reached its conclusion—

“Where’s Suzumiya? Isn’t she with you?”

That was all it took to bring me back to reality. That was a close one. I nearly could’ve caused Haru-mageddon. I feigned calm and put my bag on the table.

“No, she’s got classroom cleaning duty. She’s probably sweeping dust all over the music room by now.”

“I see…”

Asahina closed her lips, as though not terribly interested in Haruhi’s whereabouts.

I couldn’t help but wonder if something was up. Asahina definitely seemed strange. The girl from the future always greeted me with a smile like a single sunflower blooming in a vase (that part’s a bit delusional) but at that moment, everything about her, from her fine features and soft hair to her obviously sweet breath, was overflowing with ennui.

Radiating unhappiness, Asahina stood directly before me, looking at me with her hands clasped and fingers intertwined. Despite whatever was troubling her, she seemed unsure of what to do about it. Perhaps unfortunately, she wasn’t searching for the right words to confess her love. Though I wasn’t searching for the memory, it came to me unbidden—the time I’d last seen her this way. It was the same expression she’d worn at Tanabata last year, when she’d asked me to go three years back in time with her (the first time).

It had been six months since then, and while Asahina was constantly improving her cuteness level, I remained as stupid as always. Nonetheless, as I tried to rein in Haruhi and the SOS Brigade a bit, I reflected on the fact that little by little I was starting to get used to it enough to tell myself, “Hey, this isn’t so bad.” I was sure nothing Asahina could tell me would really surprise me, and I had no intention of refusing her.

As I busied myself trying to burn the image of Asahina’s maid-outfit-wearing countenance onto my retinas, she finally initiated conversation. Opening her always glossy lips, she spoke.

“Kyon, um… I need a favor…”

Ka-click.

The door made a quiet click, then slowly opened. What I saw as I reflexively looked behind me was a short-haired, expressionless girl who walked quietly into the room.

Nagato mechanically closed the door.

“…”

She took a glance at Asahina and me, then, like a ghost, walked over to her usual spot.

Emotionlessly, she took her seat, then produced a paperback book from her bag and opened it. She probably had no particular interest in the fact that Asahina and I stood facing each other midconversation, but if she did, it was evidently outweighed by the bulky, difficult-looking paperback.

Asahina’s reaction was quicker, although far less subtle than mine would’ve been.

“Um… tea! I’ll put on some tea.”

She raised her voice as though wanting to announce her intentions, then trotted over to the kettle.

“Water, water—”

Holding the kettle, she trotted back over to the little refrigerator.

“Oh… we’re out of water. I’ll—I’ll go get some.”

Just as she was about to leave the clubroom, I stopped her.

“I’ll get it,” I said, offering to take the kettle. “It’s cold outside, and you’ll just tempt the other students in that outfit. We don’t need to give a free show to nonmembers. The water fountain is just downstairs. I’ll just run down there,” I started to say, but—

“Oh, I’ll go too!”

Asahina looked at me like a homeless kitten afraid of being abandoned on a rainy day. So cute. So cute, but also problematic.
Was she still not comfortable being left alone with Nagato? They probably needed to have a heart-to-heart, I thought, but maybe it was hard for an alien and a time traveler to talk to each other.

But that was fine with me. If Asahina wanted to stick with me instead of Nagato, you’d have to dig past the Mohorovicic discontinuity to find a reason for me to refuse her. I’d be surprised if one existed, although with Haruhi it was less certain, and I imagined she might be able to dig up some kind of oozy reason. Fortunately, Haruhi was not here, and I wouldn’t find myself having a shovel forced on me.

I took the kettle and, unsure whether to sing or skip for joy, headed down the hall of the old building.

“Oh, wait for me—”

Asahina followed me in her maid outfit, like a kitten following its mother.

Although walking along with her like this was no special feat, pride swelled within me. Although I had not contributed to her looks, build, or personality, as far as I knew I was the only guy who regularly got close enough to touch her.

I was so proud, in fact, that I’d totally forgotten about the weird mood she’d been in earlier. Thus—

“Kyon—”

Asahina spoke as I started to fill the kettle with tap water.

“Are you free this Sunday? There’s a place I’d like to go with you.”

She sounded serious. I was stunned—no physical measuring device could possibly have measured my surprise. For a moment, I completely forgot what day it was and how many days there were before Sunday. With effort, I finally managed to speak.

“Of course I’m free.”

Even if I’d had something to do on Sunday, an invitation from Asahina would turn a red-marked calendar totally blank. She
could ask to meet on February twenty-ninth for all I cared—I’d still be there. Even if it wasn’t a leap year, I’d find a way.

“Yeah, I’m free.”

I forced the words out even as fumes began to seep up from within me.

I’d gotten an invitation like this before, I realized.

But the place we’d arrived at turned out to be three years in the past, and all that time travel got really old after a while. To be honest, it wasn’t the kind of thing I wanted to do a lot. If I just up and did it all the time—which I wouldn’t, but still—I’d get sick of it.

“Don’t worry,” said Asahina.

She looked down, unconsciously playing with the kettle lid in her hands. She watched the water flow out of the tap.

“We won’t go to the past or the future. I, um… just want to buy some tea leaves at the mall. Will you help me pick some out, Kyon?”

She then dropped her voice, putting her finger to her lips and speaking barely above a whisper.

“But… keep this a secret from everyone, okay?”

It goes without saying that at that moment, I brimmed with confidence in my ability to resist any form of questioning.

Then came the waiting for Sunday. The minutes and seconds had never ticked by so slowly. Why did the hands of the clock move slower when you stared at them? Were they sneaking a break? I tried shaking the clock, but even that did nothing to speed up the hands, and it was then that I realized how powerless we humans are as we struggle in the face of eternal time.

This was my first outing with a time traveler that didn’t involve any actual time travel. We were just going to buy tea leaves. I gave some thought to that. Naturally, I didn’t think Asahina was some overprotected princess who couldn’t do her own shopping, nor,
clearly, did I think she was a shut-in who needed assistance to purchase tea. No matter how cheap the leaves were, I would gladly drink her tea, and it wasn’t as though the SOS Brigade had any especially picky tea drinkers, anyway.

So why did she invite me along? And why so secretly?

A boy and a girl of similar age going out on a Sunday.

Wasn’t that essentially what most people would call a “date”? Yes, it had to be. That was it. This was a date. The way I saw it, the tea thing had just been an excuse. How modest of her. She could have just come right out and asked. No, this was better—this was Asahina, after all.

Sunday finally arrived.

On my bike, I sprinted furiously to the agreed-upon station-front meeting place. The pedals revolved easily, even without a motor, as though my beloved bicycle understood my feelings. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that I was feeling as pleasant as I ever had since joining the SOS Brigade. This was just a normal outing. I wouldn’t be closed up in some strange dimension, given a one-way ticket to the past, or discussing Zen riddles with an alien in her living room.