The Dissociation of Haruhi Suzumiya

by Nagaru Tanigawa

  I guessed not. She was our brigade chief, after all.

  “We need only to wait for our opponent to take action. There’s no need to worry more than usual. After all is said and done, we do have Suzumiya on our side.”

  α—3

  Just as I finished my call with Nagato, my sister—evidently unable to wait any longer—came into my room, bringing her homework with her. However, she then scattered her pencils and drill book on the floor and started playing with Shamisen. It took an hour for her to finish her homework. She’s definitely related to me, as she has no real talent for academics. She can do simple arithmetic well enough, but if there’s a twist, she gets totally stumped.

  I handed her the notebook and practical drill sheets that I’d solved for her. “When you’re done, get out—and if you can, take Shamisen with you. He’s awfully heavy when he sleeps on my bed.”

  “Shami, wanna sleep with me?”

  The calico cat looked at my sister dubiously, then slowly curled up on my bed.

  “He says no.” My sister seemed somehow happy as she gathered up her homework and danced out of the room. It was nice when she did as she was told. I’d give her that much.

  I casually turned on the TV, flipping channels without really watching anything as I thought about the next day. It would probably be best if I prepared.

  Might as well get a good night’s rest.

  α—3

  After finishing my call with Koizumi, I thought about calling Nagato, but ultimately I decided that it was getting late and I didn’t have anything in particular to say to her, so I left the phone on the pillow.

  If Kuyoh were some kind of death goddess who represented an immediate threat to Nagato, Nagato wouldn’t just sit there silently. And tomorrow was Sunday. Our benevolent and merciful brigade leader had seen fit to bless us with a day of rest, so I should probably make the most of it and rest up.

  On Monday I’d see them all again at school, whether I liked it or not. I could hear Nagato’s lecture on aliens during lunch in the clubroom.

  Just as I was thinking of reading a book I still hadn’t returned, there was a scratch at the door. I opened it and Shamisen came in with a sleepy look on his face, purring. Without so much as a word of thanks for me, his bellboy, he climbed up to the bed, curled up in a ball, and closed his eyes.

  With a face like both the world’s life span and a cat’s were eternal.

  α—4

  The next day, Sunday.

  With nothing much to do, I read books, played video games, and basically passed the day lazing around to my heart’s content. It was good to do this sometimes—good to have an idle day free from Haruhi and the rest.

  I would see them tomorrow. The melancholic Sunday night was ending, resetting the week back to its beginning, the week whose only purpose was bringing yet another weekend.

  Monday began.

  β—4

  The next day, Sunday.

  At 7:00 AM I awoke and dressed myself completely, and by the time I was ready to leave the house, it was thirty minutes after my alarm had rung.

  I had never before felt so much that my usual routines of eating early and dressing early were such a waste. It would’ve been nice to sleep a bit more, but if I’d gone back to sleep, I wouldn’t have woken again for another two hours.

  With nothing better to do, I was reading the morning paper when my younger sister, who generally boasted of being the earliest riser in the family, came into the kitchen in her pajamas and looked at me disbelievingly.

  “Wow. You’ve gotten up before me two days in a row. Why?”

  Could be any number of things. Believe it or not, I was a high schooler whose life was much busier than any sixth grader’s. The time would come when she would look back with nostalgia on how easy she had it, I said. She’d better enjoy elementary school while it lasted and not write anything too crazy in her graduation essay.

  “Huh. Hey, where’re you going today? Out with Haru-nyan?”

  If I were careless here, she’d wind up wanting to come along. No doubt Sasaki would tolerate it with a smile, but I could just imagine that future bastard’s openly nasty face. Heck, I should just let her come along. It’d be more of a pain for them than it would be for me.

  “I’m going to see some friends from middle school.”

  But in the end I decided to chase her off. I’d probably have more opportunities to see Sasaki again, but I didn’t want to expose my naive little sister—who still believed in Santa—to harsh reality. The fact was that aliens were strange and time travelers were jerks, but even I didn’t want to crush her dreams like that.

  Just stay at home with Shamisen, I said. And if Haruhi happens to call, just put her off the trail. My sister could say anything she wanted so long as she didn’t mention so much as the S in “Sasaki.”

  “Okay!” She dashed upstairs to wash her face.

  Now was my chance. It was quite early, but this was the time to leave. If my sister asked me any more questions, I might wind up letting the cat out of the bag. I just couldn’t calm down in the house. The feeling of wanting to just get today’s events out of the way weighed on my chest, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  But just as I was leaving the house, I discovered that my rare early rising had borne fruit.

  As though it had been waiting for me to open my front door—

  “Rain, huh?” I replaced the bike key I’d just taken out and reached instead for an umbrella as I murmured the words.

  The slight sprinkle with drops far apart enough to count took only thirty seconds to shift to a shower, and then to a downpour.

  Despite the forecast that claimed there was but a 10 percent chance of rain, it was as though someone were controlling the weather to try and stop me from leaving—or perhaps the black clouds were meant as a warning.

  Although there was no thunder.

  Despite the curse of the rain, I headed to the station, where the same trio from the previous day awaited me.

  Sasaki had a blue folding umbrella, while Kyoko Tachibana’s was a designer model of some kind, and Kuyoh Suoh in her school uniform (like a rip-off of Nagato) held the kind of cheap transparent plastic umbrella you could buy at any convenience store; each one of them deflecting the rain in their unique ways.

  Kuyoh’s voluminous hair actually stuck out from under the protection radius of the convenience store umbrella, but it didn’t seem to be getting wet. She also seemed to be invisible to random passersby, although not perfectly so, since when their umbrellas brushed hers, they would move aside. That was certainly convenient.

  Incidentally, I wondered: the time traveler jerk hadn’t shown up yet—was he wearing chameleon camouflage?

  “No, he’s in the café,” answered Sasaki. “He said there was no way he was standing around in the rain, especially not to meet you. I had him go inside and save us seats.”

  What a jerk. Two months’ time hadn’t improved his attitude at all. Although I didn’t know how much time had passed for him.

  “Seems the two of you have quite a friendship. I haven’t heard what happened, but I guess that’s a better relationship than none at all. How nice,” said Sasaki with a chuckle. “It’s a relief. If he’d truly had bad intentions, he wouldn’t have taken such a direct approach. It’s not just you, you know. He treats me pretty much the same way.”

  Which was even more unforgivable. If he hated this era so much, he shouldn’t have come. He should learn from Asahina’s example. Even in this time, there weren’t many people so eagerly devoted to making tea.

  Sasaki laughed quietly. “I’d like to try Asahina’s tea myself. Think I could visit North High sometime? I should’ve gone during last year’s festival—too bad I missed my chance. I’ll definitely come by this year.”

  I wasn’t able to tell her she shouldn’t come. “You can come, I guess, but our culture festival doesn’t really have anything special to see—”

  “Excuse me, you two.” Kyoko Ta
chibana stuck her head between the two of us, keeping her umbrella held high such that it didn’t collide with ours. “Could you save your chitchat for later? The reason I called you here,” she began, clearing her throat and giving both Sasaki and me a wink, “is because we have a lot to talk about. It’s very important. I believe Sasaki said this too.”

  “Sorry,” said Sasaki with a smile. “It’s not like I forgot. I just pretended to forget. To be honest, it’s not a conversation I’m looking forward to.”

  Meanwhile, Kuyoh remained perfectly silent, as though she were a 1:1-scale figure. I guess words really weren’t her strong point.

  “We should hurry. I get the feeling that our messenger from the future is getting impatient in the café. It’s about that time,” said Tachibana Kyoko, and started to walk. Kuyoh did likewise without so much as a nod, moving only slightly faster than a kasajizo carrying a heavy bag of rice down a snowy road. Set in her pale-white face were such sleepy-looking eyes that it made me wonder if she were actually asleep. I wasn’t sure whether this alien had low blood pressure or was just bad with humidity, but she was definitely less energetic than she had been. If Nagato was diamond dust, Kuyoh was a fluffy, fragile snowflake.

  Both Sasaki and Kyoko Tachibana acted as though Kuyoh didn’t exist, probably because they knew that they could just leave her alone and she’d still follow them around. In this regard, their treatment wasn’t unlike Haruhi’s awareness of Nagato.

  Kuyoh moved as expected, and despite her short stride, maintained a constant distance, never falling behind. As I also walked, I noticed something.

  Our destination seemed to be the usual café that had become a standard part of the SOS Brigade’s morning routine, the place where with 99 percent certainty a particular brigade member—namely, me—would pick up the tab.

  My expectations were not betrayed, and the two girls stopped in front of the automatic sliding glass door, beyond which I could see him, face sulky, cup slightly tipped in his hand.

  As soon as he raised his head and recognized me, his lip twisted; he seemed unamused.

  Just as when I’d met him by the roadside flower bed, his smile looked like Koizumi’s would, if Koizumi had fallen to the dark side.

  There was no point in going this far to imitate the SOS Brigade, and it made me squirm. Even worse, the seat I was sitting in was exactly the same one I’d sat in the previous day, with Sasaki next to me and the three weirdos across from us.

  The waitress brought us four glasses of ice water, and five mouths, mine included, showed no sign of movement.

  I was busy glaring at the time traveler jerk whose name I still didn’t know, while Sasaki’s and Kyoko Tachibana’s faces were relaxed, and Kuyoh was as still as a porcelain doll. Nobody made a sound. It felt like the last war council in a besieged castle that was about to fall to surrounding enemy forces.

  It was finally Kyoko Tachibana who took the role of chairwoman. “So, a lot’s happened,” she said, breaking the ice, “but I am very excited indeed. Do you know how long I’ve waited for this day? We finally stand at the starting line. I thank you for this opportunity.”

  She bowed her head to me.

  “And to you too, Sasaki. I apologize for forcing the issue.”

  “Sure,” said Sasaki shortly, looking up to me. “Kyon, you don’t have to look so scary. Just listen to what she has to say. I respect your judgment. You’ve got far more experience with this sort of thing than I do. My intuition and analysis are not particularly good, so I have to rely on precedent and experience. That’s why it’s so reassuring that you’re here. I’ve got no reference for any of this, you see.”

  I took my gaze off of Asahina’s counterpart; watching him wasn’t doing my eyes any favors. “Let’s keep this short.”

  I tried to sound as serious as I could, but the reaction from the time traveler was a sneering laugh. It bugged me.

  “Let’s start with your name.” If he remained the anonymous time traveling jerk, my impression of him could only get worse.

  In the face of my latest disdainful glare, the sarcastic face’s owner spoke; it was the first time in two months I’d heard his voice.

  “Names are merely identifiers of convenience.” His scornful tone was just as I remembered it. He shifted uneasily. “Call me whatever you like. I don’t care. It’s meaningless. Just as meaningless as you calling Mikuru Asahina Mikuru Asahina. Absurd.”

  He sure liked the negative. I should’ve approved my sister’s request and let her come along. A few words from this guy were all it took to depress me. And just what part of Asahina was meaningless?

  “Yes, well, still,” said Sasaki. “In this day and age, it’s still useful to have a name to call someone, whether or not it’s his real name. It can be a government rank or position. ‘Magistrate’ is fine; just give Kyon something to call you, please?”

  “Fujiwara,” he said with surprising readiness. “That is what you may call me.”

  “You heard him,” said Sasaki after she heard the name, which was almost certainly fake. She shrugged. “So now you’ve been introduced to everybody.”

  I knew their names, anyway. But I was pretty sure that wasn’t why I was here. It was easy enough to refer to them as Time Traveler Guy, Kidnapper Lady, and Heavenly Canopy Dominion Alien.

  “Yes,” said Kyoko Tachibana. “Now we’ll get to business.”

  The probable esper girl cleared her throat and, flanked by the time traveler and alien, smiled like a door-to-door saleslady beginning her pitch.

  “We believe that the true divine being is Sasaki, and not Haruhi Suzumiya.”

  Suddenly, a bomb dropped.

  I’d put the glass of ice water to my lips, and the thought of doing a spit-take crossed my mind, but I banished it immediately, swallowing as I set the glass back on the table and spoke. “What’d you say?”

  “I mean exactly what I said. Is there something about it you don’t understand?” Kyoko Tachibana said brightly, then sighed in relief. “Whew, I finally said it. I’ve wanted to tell you for ages, but there just wasn’t a chance, and it’s bothered me for a long time. It would’ve been easier if Koizumi hadn’t been around. I even planned to transfer into your school this spring, but I was too afraid of him. The incident earlier only confirmed that. I definitely don’t want to see Miss Mori ever again.”

  She giggled in a satisfied way, just like a normal high school girl.

  “Yes. Just as Koizumi has been tasked with protecting Suzumiya, we must watch over Sasaki. But because the alien and the time traveler both went to Suzumiya’s side, I was just so incredibly worried about it. It was unbearable.”

  She looked at her two counterparts, then continued. “In order to avoid identity collapse, I had no other choice. Koizumi had Mikuru Asahina and Yuki Nagato, but I did not, so I needed others. And now I’ve finally assembled them.”

  This was not something to be trusted lightly. If Haruhi wasn’t the pseudo-god Koizumi said she was, then what had I been doing for the past year? Nearly getting stabbed by Asakura, actually getting stabbed by Asakura, spending summer vacation in a time loop, traveling through time, traveling back through time, following directions from the future, and above all having to play along with Haruhi’s impulses, and then there was that time Nagato rewrote the universe… If Haruhi wasn’t a walking mystery zone, then none of these things could have happened, I said.

  “That is one way of looking at things. One reality. But reality is not limited to the singular. The surface can be a lie, obscuring the truth behind it—that’s standard procedure in mystery novels.”

  For mysteries I suggested she see Koizumi, and for literature, consult with Nagato.

  “Sasaki,” I said. “Do you believe any of this?”

  Sasaki, flipping the menu over and regarding its back, looked up. “To be honest, I find it all very puzzling. I’m not especially interested in myself, and my desires are on the weak side. I think I’d prefer not to be elevated or worshipped. I tend to ta
ke a back seat in team sports, and I usually try to live my life so as not to cause other people trouble. What I hate most of all are self-centered, pushy people, but I also hate myself when I let that kind of person get to me.”

  Sasaki raised her hand in order to get the waitress’s attention.

  “By the way, since we haven’t ordered yet, have you all decided?”

  Her mischievous smile was just like it had been in middle school.

  The only person who spoke to the waitress, who wore a simple apron over her street clothes, was Sasaki, who said, “Four hot coffees.”

  Fujiwara the time traveler and Kuyoh the alien took no action, the former only sniffing and the latter giving the impression of being immersed in an eternal silence, which was enough to make me wonder what kind of impression we were giving off. Even being optimistic, it seemed unlikely that we were being seen as a group of regular high school students and their friend. Compared to them, the SOS Brigade was practically normal.

  It was Kyoko Tachibana who’d taken the first initiative to speak, and she again broke the silence. “So, that is how it is. You’ve heard the story from Koizumi, right? That about four years ago, Suzumiya probably created the world. She has strange power but is completely unaware of it, and she subconsciously creates closed space. Koizumi and his kind awoke, created the Agency, and have continued until now. Suzumiya continued granting her own wishes, summoning aliens and time travelers. But I, along with my friends, believe that this power truly belongs with Sasaki.”

  She was free to believe whatever she wanted. There were no limits to the mind, after all. However, turning those ideas into reality was another matter entirely. This was a country with laws, and kidnapping was a crime.

  I told them as much, and Kyoko Tachibana bowed her head.

  “I apologize for that. But it was clear from the beginning that it would not work, since it involved forceful intervention from the future. I just wanted to try. I had no intention of succeeding. And yet I don’t feel it was a waste, since it conveyed our existence to you. That was a big step.”