The Dissociation of Haruhi Suzumiya

by Nagaru Tanigawa

  She emphasized the word “today,” making it clear that she was delivering the word from him.

  Well, the feeling was mutual—I didn’t want to see his face either. In fact, I wanted to decline acquaintance with the two mysterious girls in front of me too, I said.

  “Well, we can’t have that. No matter how much we might delay it, it would always come to this eventually. And we’ve waited quite some time. Hasn’t it been long enough?” She closed her mouth and laughed a voiceless laugh. “I’m sure he feels the same way. That which must come, will come. The quicker wound is the lighter one, isn’t it?”

  She stressed the word “he,” and I thought she was still referring to the time-traveler guy, but I was wrong.

  Kyoko Tachibana’s gaze passed through me as though I were invisible and looked behind me. A chill of terror ran up my spine. It’s often occurred to me that you see words like “chill” or “terror” or “indescribable” all the time, but the experiences they actually describe are very rare—as rare as seeing a spider carrying a piece of mochi or onion on its back.

  All was lost. I knew that now. I felt the chill of an indescribable terror.

  I looked behind me.

  Koizumi was standing there. He must’ve come from the ticket booth and was dressed in a casual but completely flawless outfit, hands in his pockets as though he’d been waiting for me to notice him.

  And if it had been just Koizumi, that would’ve been great. He was the only North High student I could count on to debate the trio of opponents I faced.

  “Uh…” I said, feeling a drop of nervous sweat.

  In what could only be thought of as the worst possible situation, next to Koizumi stood the wielder of absolute power over the SOS Brigade, Haruhi Suzumiya, regarding me as though she were a powerful feudal lord returning to punish a corrupt magistrate. Nagato stood diagonally behind her, and even Asahina was there.

  In other words, the members of the SOS Brigade had, at some point, assembled at the rendezvous point. And worse, they now formed a wall, like defenders trying to stop a free kick, keeping Sasaki and me out.

  I checked my watch and saw that I still had fifteen minutes before nine o’clock. I didn’t know how long they’d been there, but it looked like despite my not being late, I was still going to be last to arrive.

  But this was not the time to be worrying about such trivialities.

  Haruhi met my gaze and immediately started striding over. Behind her trailed the rest, like three ladies in waiting. Koizumi was dressed impeccably—it must be tiring, keeping that up—while Nagato, it went without saying, was wearing her school uniform, and Asahina wore a conservatively fashionable spring outfit.

  I felt like an air traffic controller who was watching huge clouds and a low-pressure front closing in on the radar screen.

  Haruhi stopped like an airport drug-sniffing dog having caught the scent of cannabis. “I was about to compliment you for managing to arrive early, but what’s this? A prior engagement?”

  “It’s just a coincidence,” answered Sasaki—but looking at me, not Haruhi. “If you live around here, this is the obvious place to meet up. I promised to meet with some friends here. Kyon, just like you, I have some friends I’ve made who are unbeknownst to you. We’ve now met up, and we’ll be leaving.”

  That was a relief. Sorry, but I wanted them gone as soon as possible. And could she do me the favor of not going to the café nearby? I asked. That’s where we were headed next. We’d be in trouble if there weren’t enough seats.

  “Very well. I’ll consider that. It would be awkward if we met up again just after parting ways. I think we’ll be getting on the train and going elsewhere,” Sasaki answered, understanding my intention, then bowed to Haruhi. “Suzumiya, I’ll leave Kyon in your hands. No doubt even in high school he doesn’t put much effort into studying or club activities, does he? If he doesn’t do something before his mother’s patience runs out, he’ll be forced to go to cram school, just like he had been in middle school. I imagine that’ll happen around summer vacation.”

  “Uh. Er. Yeah.” Haruhi mumbled some vague words in order to avoid being totally speechless; her eyes were round like a kid who found a bug she’d never seen before in the mountains.

  If it had been someone’s goal to shake me up, these two were more than enough. But I was well aware that there was more going on.

  On a weekend in front of a busy train station, there was nothing particularly noticeable about a group of high school students.

  But on that corner, powerful forces had collided with each other—somehow I could hear the impossible sound of their grating.

  Just as Sasaki showed Haruhi a smile, Kyoko Tachibana and Kuyoh were looking in different directions. In Kyoko Tachibana’s eyes I saw the reflection of our stylishly dressed lieutenant brigade chief.

  They did not greet each other. Koizumi’s smiling poker face did not change. He seemed somehow annoyed, but I think I was the only one who noticed. On the other hand, Kyoko Tachibana had the satisfied smile of the young actress finally being on the big stage for the first time.

  But they were not the source of the discordant sound. Two opposing humans could never produce such a thunder.

  It was like a continental plate colliding with an ocean shelf, and it inspired a psychologically unsettling sensation—

  “…”

  “—”

  The two forms of Nagato and Kuyoh stared at each other, unmoving.

  Now that I thought about it, I’d borne witness to Nagato’s anger a few times. The challenge against the computer club, and when the student council president had threatened to dissolve the literature club. I hadn’t had the time to take note of her expression when she’d fought Ryoko Asakura, and it’s possible she hadn’t yet developed that emotion at the time.

  But now, I finally understood.

  My ability to detect changes in Nagato’s emotional state, that ability I was so proud of, was still only at a middling level.

  “…”

  Nagato’s clear, honest eyes and intently expressionless face were radiating a terrifying emptiness. In her transparent eyes was reflected the form of Kuyoh Suoh, the alien pseudo-human representative of some other intelligence.

  The bustling noise of the people passing by us seemed to come from somewhere far, far away from where we were. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the earth split and a giant cave cricket emerged.

  The sense of unreality made it feel as though we were trapped in some alternate dimension.

  “Um, excuse me…”

  The feeling was dispelled by a fairy who had descended to Earth, a figure who engaged both my optic nerve and my protective instincts.

  “Er, Kyon… what’s wrong? You don’t look well…” said Asahina, looking up at me worriedly. “Have you caught a cold? Oh—you’re sweating. Let me get a handkerchief…”

  She reached into her purse and retrieved a flower-patterned handkerchief, which she offered to me.

  It was thanks to her that I snapped out of it. “I’m fine, Asahina.”

  I didn’t want to soil her lovely little handkerchief with my sweat. My shirt sleeve would suffice just fine for that.

  I was briefly thankful to that future bastard. Since he wasn’t here, Asahina didn’t have anyone to glare at, unlike Koizumi or Nagato.

  I was sweating like I’d been thrust onto the stage of a live televised broadcast of a presidential campaign speech without a script. I wiped it off.

  “I’ll be going, Kyon,” said Sasaki, who’d been having some kind of a conversation with Haruhi. “Oh, that’s right—when you have time, could you give Sudou a call? He’s started planning the reunion, see. He got in touch with me again, and I guess he wants you to be in charge of contacting people at North High.”

  Why would he tell that to her instead of me? Maybe he was more interested in Sasaki than Okamoto, I said.

  “Hardly,” said Sasaki immediately. “I’ve never done anything to make somebody
like me. Never treated anybody that way either. You should know that better than anyone, right, Kyon?”

  I did not, in fact, know that.

  “Oh, really?” Sasaki chuckled. “We’ll just leave it at that, then,” she said cryptically, then waved her raised hand. “See you.”

  Sasaki walked past me toward the ticket booth, and Kyoko Tachibana and Kuyoh quietly began to move. The former affected an air of blithe ignorance, while the latter seemed like a vague fog.

  Koizumi and Nagato remained silent as though practicing Zen meditation, while Asahina was the only one who stared. She never failed to put me at ease. She was so lovely it made me dizzy. I love you, Asahina! I want to hold you in my arms!

  As we watched the three forms disappear toward the station, Haruhi muttered, “What a weirdo. Hmm, still, she is awfully interesting, considering she’s one of your friends. Although she does seem a little contrived.”

  I bet she’d consider that a compliment. That’s just the kind of person Sasaki was, I said.

  “Yeah, she does seem to have more friends than you.”

  It was true that she was a more social person than I was. But still, Sasaki.

  I suppressed a sigh, and turned the thought over in my gut.

  She didn’t have to go and make friends with aliens, time travelers, and espers. There’s gotta be a limit to expanding your horizons.

  But maybe I shouldn’t have been thinking about that stuff. My head wasn’t exactly in the game at the time.

  Kyoko Tachibana’s match was Koizumi, Kuyoh Suoh’s was Nagato, and the nameless time traveler guy’s was Asahina.

  So what about Sasaki? She had completely slipped my mind.

  It had never occurred to me to wonder who she’d be matched up against.

  A few minutes after parting ways with Sasaki and her two superfluous sidekicks, the five of us piled into the café out of a sense of obligation. This was done in order to quietly listen to Haruhi regale us with her plans for the day.

  This time, at least, the café visit shouldn’t be my treat. This was the second time I’d been the first to arrive at the rendezvous point, and while I should’ve been able to commemorate the occasion, I wasn’t taking any pleasure in it at all, since I’d hadn’t actually been able to feel like I was waiting for anyone. It made me nostalgic for the one time I’d waited for Haruhi alone, when Koizumi, Nagato, and Asahina were absent. I mean, I’d wound up paying then too, but still.

  “We all came to the ticket booth together, right?” said Haruhi, slurping her ice cream loudly. “Therefore, nobody was last. You just happened to be first. Therefore, we’ll just split the check.”

  “Therefore,” my foot. She even said it twice. Reusing adverbs made her sound stupid. And she shouldn’t just go making new rules off the top of her head. Maybe I’d just conspire to show up doing the Oklahoma Mixer with Asahina or Nagato, I said.

  “That’s right out,” she said, stirring her straw around. “I can’t have you coordinating ahead of time. And I might as well tell you that I’m impossible to trick. If I find out, that’s ten times the usual fine.”

  And just who was going to investigate that? If we made sure our stories matched, there’d be no way to catch us, and the fair trade commission would be all over Haruhi, but—whatever. For ten times the fine, she’d have to have the bank issue a notice of deficit.

  “Anyway, about today’s plan.” Haruhi finished her ice water and looked over the group. I did likewise, looking at the other three members.

  Asahina clasped her cup of Ceylon tea elegantly between both hands as she listened with her usual intentness to Haruhi, Nagato gazed into her barely touched glass of apricot juice, and Koizumi had his arms folded, wearing his usual smile.

  Appearance-wise, there was no change in the members of the SOS Brigade. Nagato aside, Koizumi’s dedication to business-as-usual was admirable. I’d have to mention it to them later, I thought.

  It would have to be later, I thought, because the next scene would surely be Haruhi making us draw lots to split up, but then—

  “I’ve decided to stop splitting into groups,” she said. “I’ve been thinking that maybe the reason we haven’t found anything is because we’re splitting into groups of two and three. Even if we can only cover one spot at a time, it’s easier to notice something when there are more people looking. Five people is more than double two, after all.” Haruhi gave me a questioning look. “Especially you, Kyon—you haven’t been seriously looking for mysterious phenomena at all. You were even sleeping in the library once!”

  So she remembered that. I spotted Nagato and Asahina move slightly out of the corner of my eye.

  “Hey, Haruhi. These mysterious things you’re looking for—what are they, again? Sorry, I’ve forgotten them, so could you refresh my memory?”

  “This is the most basic of basics, so remember it well!” she said, irritated, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “Basically anything bizarre is fine. Anything questionable, anything puzzling, anything that seems like a mystery or riddle, places where time or space are distorted, aliens pretending to be humans, and anything else like that.”

  Most of the things she was suggesting could be explained by the people that surrounded her right now, I thought, and sighed inwardly.

  I’d have to find another time to have a talk with Nagato and Koizumi. Trying to secretly converse while we were all together was not a good idea. It was way too risky.

  Given Nagato’s and Koizumi’s expressions, and the fact that Asahina was being her normal self, and the fact that my future self hadn’t appeared to stir things up, I could conclude that I wasn’t particularly cornered at the moment.

  That was the important thing, I thought, as I gazed at Haruhi.

  Her curiosity was on full-blast. Which was fine. Nothing was going to happen, so there was no need for me to talk her out of anything.

  The existence of the SOS Brigade was itself absurd, but we’d weathered many storms and were all in the same boat; we would sink or swim together. While our captain was still drawing breath, we could continue to rampage over the seas in flagrant ignorance of the maritime safety code. We could set course for the Indian subcontinent and wind up on the peak of Mt. Ararat, no problem.

  Sensing from Haruhi’s overpowering aura that she was about to stand, I drank the last of my iced café au lait and swallowed the now-tiny ice cubes whole.

  “Well, shall we go?” Haruhi began to reflexively pass the bill to me, but she then seemed to remember her promise to split the tab. With exaggerated nonchalance, she put her drink’s straw, still thrust into her empty glass, to her mouth.

  We walked around the neighborhood of the station for several hours after that.

  A bit off the main street, there were new buildings and shops that hadn’t been there a month ago, and others that were gone as though they’d simply been erased, and while it made me feel that time was passing awfully fast, perhaps this was normal in our commercialism-poisoned age. No sooner was a convenience store built than it was closed, with a new one taking its place with Russian-rouletteish ephemerality—but still, seeing old haunts that remained unchanged was strangely comforting.

  Thankfully we did not encounter Sasaki’s group again. I prepared myself for it every time we rounded a corner, but Sasaki seemed to have actually gotten on a train and gone elsewhere. I was still not thrilled that she brought those two along, but I could tell that she was being considerate. I’d have to thank her later.

  All day the five of us moved as a group, even during lunch, when we ate at a little curry shop whose owner ran it as a hobby and was very proud of his menu. It honestly felt like Haruhi and Asahina were window-shopping and the rest of us were just along for the ride; that’s certainly what it would’ve looked like from the outside.

  Asahina standing, eyes a-sparkle, in the accessories shop; Nagato being forced by Haruhi to try on various pairs of sunglasses in the glasses store; Koizumi making small talk about the weather or his class
es at school—

  Thus the day passed, so normally that it was weird.

  Sure, it was fun. Got a problem with that?

  That night.

  Once the first mystery tour of the year ended without us being led to even one mysterious phenomenon, Haruhi gave the order to disperse, and I headed immediately home, eating dinner and then idling around for a while before taking a bath after my little sister.

  I washed my hair with shampoo that was cheaper than the stuff made for cats, washed the day’s dust and dirt from my body, then soaked in the tub for a while. For some reason I was humming the “Dinner Song” my sister had made up, maybe because I’d heard it so many times, when suddenly the door to the bathroom opened.

  “Kyon! Telephone!” My pajamaed sister poked her head in the door.

  Telephone? I’d wondered if I might get a call. I myself had business to discuss, after all. I prepared myself for either Koizumi or Nagato as my sister held the receiver with a huge grin on her face.

  “They wanted to know if my big brother was in, and I said if they meant Kyon, you were!”

  I told her to use the former term to address me. “Who is it?”

  “A gi-i-i-rl,” said my sister, drawing out the word’s pronunciation. I wiped my hands on the towel wrapped pointlessly around my head and took the receiver from my sister.

  Aren’t you normally supposed to ask who’s calling? It could’ve been some fishy telemarketer doing a hard sell.

  “Oh, and Kyon, when you’re out of the bath, could you help me with math homework? Arithmetic dri-i-i-lls—” she sang in a strange melody, then stuck her tongue out, skipping clumsily out of the dressing room like a kindergartner.

  A girl calling me now?

  If it wasn’t Haruhi, who could it be? Given the morning’s events, maybe Nagato. Or possibly Asahina… though surely not the Elder. I wasn’t in the mood to hear a bunch of bizarre warnings.

  “Hello?” I hung my head over the edge of the bathtub to avoid dropping the receiver in the bath.

  “Hello,” came a voice like a mountain echo.