The Surprise of Haruhi Suzumiya

by Nagaru Tanigawa

These were all hints. For three aliens who didn’t understand the idea of time very well, it was impossible that they’d all appeared in the same moment by coincidence. It was an omen. A strange message that only I could understand.

  Very soon, things would start to move. Even if they didn’t, I would. And then I’d make them move.

  I was sure that Sasaki was thinking the same thing. These premonitions had moved on from being vague notions into being palpable feelings within me.

  Nagato probably couldn’t do anything.

  But I had Haruhi, and Sasaki.

  While their nature was unknown and unconfirmed, there existed two people that all involved parties insisted were on a godlike level. So long as those two bastions of humanity existed, no alien terminal, no miscreant time traveler, no worthless esper could lay a hand on us. Of course, there was the possibility that any one of them had prepared a trap for us. And no matter how high that possibility, Haruhi would laugh it off as though it were nothing, while no matter how low, Sasaki would discuss the notion thoroughly.

  My own sudden thought terrified me. The idea seeped into my chest like methane hydrate. Haruhi and Sasaki—if those two joined forces, they really could control the universe. But now, such a situation would never come to pass. Haruhi would never wish for that. And Sasaki would laugh and start lecturing. I could picture both girls’ expressions with perfect clarity.

  “Welp—” Just as I hefted my minimally packed schoolbag over my shoulder and started to make for the clubroom, I caught sight of Taniguchi, the eternal slacker, getting ready to head straight home.

  Though he wasn’t someone who was any use to me in my current predicament, I raised my voice and asked him the question that came to mind anyway.

  “Hey, Taniguchi.”

  “Yeah?” He turned around, looking put-upon. He was giving off a distinct sense of wanting-to-be-left-alone-ness, and I would’ve liked to do just that, but he was an important data point, though he himself didn’t know it—he didn’t know that he’d spent more time with a certain extraterrestrial humanoid interface than anyone else.

  “I’ve got something I want to ask you about Kuyoh.”

  The instant I said it, all expression disappeared from Taniguchi’s face, the life draining from him, a weary aura surrounding him so thoroughly that it seemed as if even the living dead would’ve had a little more vitality.

  “Kyon, buddy. I just want you to forget about her, and I don’t want to remember her myself. Something was wrong with me back then. When I think back on it, it makes me want to die—but I don’t even remember very much, probably because my own memory can’t handle how stupid I was. So please, don’t bring her name up in front of me. Just consider that if I throw myself out of the classroom window tomorrow, it’ll be your fault.”

  I had plenty of sympathy for Taniguchi, whose dark face was a mix of foolish heroism and wasted effort, and yet I couldn’t help pressing him. Sometimes you had to harden your heart for the sake of information. And anyway, Koizumi was in the dumps at the moment, but I didn’t have to consult the Akashic Records to be quite certain that before long he’d be back to his usual bad-influence self soon.

  “What kinds of things did you do with Kuyoh after Christmas? You at least went on dates, right?”

  “I guess.” I couldn’t meet Taniguchi’s gaze—it swam as he wandered through his memories. “I told you she was the one that approached me. It was just before Christmas. Like I said, she was really quiet and blank, and I never really understood what kind of girl she was, but man—she was hot.”

  I thought back, and that sounded right, although her eerie aura was so off-putting that I hadn’t really noticed her looks.

  “So then,” Taniguchi continued, “the old year turned into the new year, and we went all over the place. Mostly to places a healthy high school couple would go. Mostly it was me inviting her, but sometimes she would suggest places to go too.”

  I wondered what sort of destinations an artificial extraterrestrial life-form would want to visit. In Nagato’s case, I’d accidentally discovered that she loved the library, but would a different alien have different tastes?

  Taniguchi had no idea of the academic questions that occupied me. “You know, the usual spots. We went to movies, or out to eat. Suoh… well, she was a little weird. She always wanted to go to fast-food places. I’m pretty broke, so that suited me just fine, but I thought it was a little weird.”

  There was about two months’ worth of time between Christmas and Valentine’s Day, so I asked what kind of conversation they’d filled the time with. I doubted Kuyoh would ever initiate conversation, though.

  “That’s not true,” said Taniguchi, surprisingly. “She was quiet, sure, but sometimes she’d talk like someone had flipped a switch. I mean, like, she’d be the one to speak up and everything.”

  Kuyoh volunteered conversation? I asked.

  “Yeah. The truth is I don’t really remember it very well. She said something about wanting to have a cat. She insisted that cats were more advanced life-forms than humans, and went on for two hours about the ways cats were superior to humans. I damn near fell asleep halfway through. She just seemed to like the most annoying topics. I mean, what would you say if you were asked what you thought about human progress? And I mean on the scale of hundreds of millions of years.”

  I tried imagining Kuyoh chatting away. It was impossible. Maybe it was the capriciousness of the Heavenly Canopy Dominion, or maybe her interior had been swapped out before I’d met her.

  “But you just kept going out with her, in spite of all that?”

  “You bet I did. That was the first time a girl had tried hitting on me. And… I mean… she was pretty hot…”

  So that’s what it came down to. I guess there were both men and women who only cared about looks. I suppose there was room to forgive his airheadedness. Just as I was despairing over seeing just what youth valued most in romance—

  “And then our relationship was over in a flash.” Taniguchi looked skyward, as plaintively as any tragic hero on the stage. “I rushed to meet her at the promised time, and she was waiting there to tell me ‘I was mistaken.’ I didn’t even have time to ask what the hell she meant. By the time I realized what had happened, she was gone. Just like that. She’s ignored every message from me, and there’s been precisely zero contact from her side. I agonized about it for a while, like an idiot. But I’ve been dumped. Even I know that much.”

  And right before Valentine’s Day too. This last February. That whole winter incident, when Koizumi and I had dug holes all over that mountain, and there was all that fuss about (Michiru) Asahina, and my first encounter with Kyoko Tachibana and Fujiwara. To think that whole time, Taniguchi had been making conversation with Kuyoh.

  But in listening to Taniguchi talk about her, I realized that Kuyoh Suoh was actually quite foolish.

  If Kuyoh had made contact with me before Haruhi’s Christmas party, it was quite possible that the incident with Haruhi’s disappearance and all the crazy stuff around Nagato would’ve been much more of a pain to deal with. It was a lucky thing that Kuyoh had mistaken Taniguchi for me. I’d more or less used up all my resolve traveling four years into the past toward disaster. I would have to thank Taniguchi for keeping Kuyoh occupied for so long.

  “So, you’re done talking?”

  I’d sunk into a thoughtful silence, so Taniguchi slung his bag over his shoulder and positioned himself for an immediate retreat. “Yeah.”

  I replied with a sunny expression. “Taniguchi.”

  “What’s with the creepy face?”

  “You might not realize it, but you’re actually a pretty amazing guy. I guarantee it.”

  “Wha?” He might have been worried about my mental state. His voice had a note of pity in it. “Coming from you, that doesn’t really make me happy. Have you taken one too many roundhouse kicks from Haruhi or something? Or—did you finally do it, huh?”

  Taniguchi turned his face aside in irri
tation, but his expression soon returned to normal, and he grinned like his good old bad-influence self.

  “Anyway, same goes for you, pal. You’re serious business, Kyon. You lasted a whole year in that crazy club. I’m counting on you to keep babysitting Suzumiya until graduation. I mean, you’re the only one for her.”

  Just as I was thinking that Taniguchi didn’t usually say stuff like that, he dashed out of the room, as though needing to get away before he looked embarrassed or awkward.

  Assuming we progressed through school together, we’d probably be singing “Aogeba Totoshi” or some similar graduation song together. Hopefully by that time we’d each have settled on our post–high school plans.

  I didn’t really think I wanted to go to the same college as him, though. It didn’t seem as though dragging your old acquaintances with you into higher education would do anything other than get in the way of making new friends. In a new environment, you had to have new relationships. I wasn’t sure whether it would be good in later life, but in any case it was what I thought. And it didn’t seem as though there was much to be gained from hanging around in the same group all the time.

  But I wondered if Haruhi felt the same way.

  Haruhi, our brigade leader, who was like unto a god.

  Having finished a peaceful, yet odd conversation with Taniguchi, I proceeded as usual to the clubroom.

  My motivation for doing so was low, knowing as I did that only Koizumi would be there to greet me, but the brigade chief’s orders could not be disobeyed. And on the off chance that a potential new member actually showed up, it would be a big deal. I obviously didn’t want any to come, since it seemed like a new brigade member would be an enormous hassle, but the day when Haruhi found out I’d let her prey escape would far surpass the term “hassle” and go right on into pure violence, which would pointlessly increase the number of wounds I took from the neck up.

  There was something I’d heard from someone—your chances of winning the lottery were lower than your chances of being in a plane crash. And I was sure that the odds of a new applicant to the SOS Brigade appearing were even lower. This high school was neither a casino nor an airport.

  Holding on to that certainty, I opened the door to the clubroom, and when I saw the form of the person who occupied it, I momentarily lost my footing.

  “Huh?”

  The interrogative utterance did not come from my mouth. Someone had spoken up before I could, and arrived at the room before I did.

  A petite girl stood by the window and turned quickly to face me. She was a freshman I’d never seen before, wearing a baggy, ill-fitting uniform, and a smiley-face barrette clipped to her wavy, permed-looking hair. I could tell her class year from the color of her school slippers. Rather, for some reason I was absolutely sure that she was younger than me—somehow that impression wedged itself into my mind. It was an incredibly vivid sensation, even stronger than when I’d first met Asahina, though why I should feel that way upon encountering her for the first time, I had no idea.

  “Huh?” was my idiotic reaction. Hopefully I’d be allowed such a three-letter vocalization, given that there was a girl I’d never seen before here in a room that normally contained only the usual suspects.

  Just as I was thinking the silence was getting awkward, the girl reacted and broke it.

  “Oh, it’s you!” she said with a cheerful smile. I had no clue why she seemed to recognize me.

  But then the girl straightened herself and bowed politely, and when she looked back up, she stuck her tongue out cutely and beamed. “It looks like I got mixed up.”

  Mixed up? Mixed up how? Mixed up the rooms for the club you want to join? If she was looking for the literature club, she wasn’t mixed up at all—she’d hit the bull’s-eye, I told her. Unfortunately, Nagato wasn’t here.

  “No, that’s not what I mean. This is the SOS Brigade, right? That much is correct.” Before I could respond, she continued, rapid-fire. “I’d planned to come here, but I got off track. I guess this is my first time meeting this you, isn’t it? Heehee, that’s okay. This isn’t that big of a mistake. You can remember meeting me or forget me, either way’s fine. They amount to the same thing. Gosh, I really was careless! This whole thing is such a hassle. I hope you’ll forgive me—these things happen, you know? You’ll understand soon enough. I mean, there’s no way you won’t, after all! But if something weird tries to stop you, you have to promise not to freak out or be swayed by emotion, okay? You gotta promise me that much. It’s a deal, right? Good!”

  It didn’t matter how “good” she said “it” was, I couldn’t do anything besides stand there, dumbstruck.

  The possibility that she was actually a cross-dressing Koizumi seemed remote. It wasn’t Haruhi, nor Asahina, and certainly not Nagato. So what reason would any of the freshman girls have to be in the literature club room? On top of that, she was advancing on me with her incomprehensible assertions like Edward the Black Prince and his longbow army invading France, and all I could do was try to defend myself. And yet the strength of her advance reminded me of a certain someone—.

  As I mulled it over, the girl with the baggy sleeves whirled around and flew toward the still-open door.

  I would’ve liked the chance to tell her to wait up, but she was one step ahead of me.

  “Well, then—” she said, turning and bowing a crisp, naval bow. “Until we meet again! Good-bye!”

  Leaving behind only a pleasant smile, she breezed through the door. Strangely I don’t remember hearing any footsteps. It was as though the moment she entered the hall, she vanished like morning dew.

  “…”

  For how many seconds did I stand there, stunned? Or was it minutes?

  When I finally came to my senses, I noticed there was a small, narrow-mouthed flower vase on the windowsill. There was a single flower placed in the ceramic piece, which hadn’t been there yesterday.

  It was a pretty flower, of a kind I’d never seen before. There was no doubt that the mystery girl from a moment ago had brought it. Asahina wouldn’t have done it. I wanted to know what was up with the flower, but more importantly—who was that girl?

  She’s acted awfully familiar to me, peppering me with rapid-fire chatter before suddenly retreating like the first storm of spring—all of which suggested she’d been confident that neither Haruhi, nor Asahina, nor Nagato would come to the room.

  So did she have some kind of business with me? I seriously doubted she’d infiltrated the clubroom just to put that flower vase on the windowsill.

  No, wait a minute—could she seriously have been a prospective new member? She did look like a freshman…

  Even so, she was an affable girl, not at all shy. I wished I could’ve kept her here until Koizumi showed up.

  “Wait…”

  Maybe she’d disappeared so quickly because she was trying to avoid seeing Koizumi.

  If so, she must’ve had business with me, specifically.

  —Until we meet again! Good-bye!

  But what business? Where and when might I meet that girl again?

  “Beats me.”

  I already had my hands full with Nagato and the Heavenly Canopy Dominion, Kuyoh and Sasaki, that good-for-nothing time traveler Fujiwara and Ryoko Asakura, and their anti–SOS Brigade association. I didn’t have time for another mysterious person to show up.

  I wished for another self. I could leave trivial stuff to him while I dealt with the challenge that had been given me. Even considering that if things got really bad I could ask Koizumi for help, not even his Agency backup was going to help him when it came to aliens and time travelers. The same reasoning ruled out Tsuruya. Kuyoh was just too awful. The only ones who could oppose her now were Kimidori and Asakura, but they weren’t worth placing any trust in, since unlike Nagato they were from other factions within the Data Overmind. If we were to fail horribly, they might well either just quietly watch, or smirk and say “Told you so.” I can’t be the only one who would find that
annoying, right?

  Tossing my schoolbag lazily onto the table, I sat down in a folding chair.

  On the table there was neatly arranged shogi-like game board along with its playing pieces, which Koizumi had presumably put there.

  As I was gazing at the game, of whose rules I had not the faintest notion, twilight began to fall, and the “Silk Road” theme signaling the end of extracurricular activities rang out over the school PA system.

  I was the only one who engaged in SOS Brigade activities that day. It was hard to believe even Koizumi had been absent. That didn’t bode well, but obviously a student’s true duty was to academics, and not some sketchy club. Koizumi was probably going to start seriously thinking about his academic future soon. Given that it was him, he’d probably keep following Haruhi around even after graduation. So where was Haruhi going to go for college?

  But even before that happened, what was going to become of Asahina, who would graduate a year ahead of us? Would we get a younger student to replace our charming upperclassman maid, and would she also be a time traveler?

  “This is no good. Thinking about the people getting left behind next year is nothing to laugh about.”

  Forlorn, I shouldered my bag and quietly put the clubroom behind me.

  Being alone there made it feel like a room in an abandoned countryside hospital somewhere, or something.

  This was probably the first time since entering high school I’d felt so sentimental. It wasn’t like me. Maybe it was normal for a regular high school guy, but I’d gotten used to being an SOS Brigade member, which meant constant buzzing activity, like the cicadas whose cries rang out every summer.

  “Crap,” I uttered, as a matter of course. It felt as though someone had taken over my soul, somehow.

  That night I got a call from Sasaki.

  “We’ll meet in front of the station again tomorrow. Fujiwara said to.”

  So it had come to this, eh?

  Sasaki’s voice was different; it sounded decisive. If it was obvious enough for even me to notice, she had to have been long-since aware of it.