The Wavering of Haruhi Suzumiya (8 page)

Since we weren’t collecting ticket fees, no one was making any money, but the popularity went directly to the director/producer’s head, and she immediately proposed a sequel, along with a new edit entitled
The Adventures of Mikuru Asahina: The Director’s Cut
that would be burned to DVD and sold, ideas that both myself and a teary-eyed Asahina are trying our best to dissuade her from.

Right now, we’re just praying that our brigade chief will turn her antennae toward something besides filmmaking for the next school festival.

But try as we might, no matter what she does, the same fate surely awaits, and that’s assuming the SOS Brigade still even exists by that point.

… Will it? I wondered.

I decided I should ask the time traveler. I quietly hoped the information wasn’t classified.

It all began with a phone call.

Just like every other year, the festive Christmas spirit had vanished as soon as the date had passed, and as we counted down the last few days until the new year, for which Haruhi would no doubt have all sorts of plans, I was afforded a few days of peace.

At the time, I had postponed all the house cleaning that needed to be finished before the new year and was instead wrestling with Shamisen in my room.

“Quit struggling! Just hold still; it’ll be over in a second!”

“Meow—”

Ignoring his protests, I held the tiny predator with his newly grown winter coat under my arm.

Ever since he’d turned my favorite denim jacket into scrap, my human-average memory suggested I should take the lesson to heart, and I made sure to regularly trim his claws. Shamisen’s feline-average memory was good enough, however, that he would sprint desperately away whenever he saw me holding the clippers.

Catching him was a terrible hassle, and holding down the
scratching, kicking, biting calico while I trimmed each of his claws to a reasonable length meant that by the time I was finished, both of my hands were covered in countless scratches. But flesh wounds would heal, unlike the embroidery on my denim jacket, so I had to stay vigilant. It made me long for the days when he could understand and use human speech. You were so cooperative then, Shamisen—what happened?

But if he started talking again, that was an ill omen of another sort, so perhaps it was better if he just meowed like a normal cat.

Just as I was finishing his right paw and moving on to his left—

“Kyon! Phone for you!”

My younger sister burst into the room, holding the cordless phone. She grinned as she saw the struggle for dignity currently taking place between human and feline.

“Oh, Shami! Are you getting your nails clipped? I’ll do it!”

Shamisen looked away as if to say “No thanks,” sniffing in a very humanlike way. I’d let my sister clip his claws once. I’d held him down while she did the clipping, but an eleven-year-old fifth grader doesn’t have much sense for clipping nails, and she’d cut Shamisen’s to the quick, annoying him enough to put him off his feed. While I was definitely preferable to her, he still fought me every time. I guess a cat’s brain isn’t very big, in the end.

“Who is it?”

I traded the nail clippers for the telephone receiver. Shamisen saw his chance and twisted free, pushing off my knee and dashing out of the room.

Holding the nail clippers happily, my sister answered.

“Um, a boy. I don’t know who he is. But he said he was your friend.”

With that, she ran out into the hallway in pursuit of Shamisen. I looked at the phone.

Who could it be? If it was a boy, that ruled out Haruhi and Asahina, and if it was Koizumi, my sister would’ve recognized
him. My other friends, like Taniguchi or Kunikida, would’ve called my cell phone, not my home landline. I punched the talk button on the receiver, muttering that I wasn’t going to fall for any stupid surveys or sales scams.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Kyon! It’s me! Long time no talk!”

I furrowed my brow at the throaty voice.

Who the hell is this? I couldn’t pretend I had any recollection of the voice.

“It’s me, man! We were in the same class in junior high, remember? Did you forget already? I’ve been sighing over you for months!”

Now that was downright creepy.

“Tell me your name,” I said. “Who
are
you?”

“Nakagawa! Can’t you at least remember the name of a classmate from a year ago? Or what, you go to a different high school and suddenly you don’t care about your old pals? C’mon, man!”

He sounded genuinely wounded.

“No, that’s not it.”

I cracked the lid on my memories and thought back to my third year of junior high. Nakagawa, huh? I did remember him. He was a well-built, broad-shouldered guy—I thought he was in the rugby club or something.

And yet… I looked at the receiver again.

We had only been in class together that one year, and we hadn’t been close. We hung out in different groups in the class. Sure, we’d say “Hey” or “ ’Sup” when we passed in the hallway, but if you wanted to know whether we talked every day, I could tell you for sure that we didn’t. Since graduation, I hadn’t had a single reason to think of his name or face.

I started picking up the claw clippings Shamisen had left behind as I spoke.

“Nakagawa, eh? Yeah, Nakagawa. I guess it has been a while. So, how’ve you been? I hear you went to an all-boys school
somewhere, right? So why are you calling me? Are you working for the alumni association or something?”

“No, the alumni group’s headed up by Sudo—he goes to a public high school. But that’s not important. I’ve got something to tell you, okay? So listen. I’m serious.”

So what was so serious about this phone call out of the blue? I couldn’t possibly imagine what he could be getting at.

“Kyon, you gotta hear me out. This is something I can only tell you. You’re my only lifeline here.”

Sounds like a bit of an exaggeration. But what the heck, I thought, let’s hear him out—let’s hear what this estranged former classmate has gone to the trouble of calling me to say.

“It’s love.”

“…”

“I’m serious. It’s killing me. These last few months, it’s all I can think about, whether I’m awake or asleep.”

“…”

“It’s gotten so bad that I can’t do anything else. Well, no, that’s not true. I’ve been throwing myself into schoolwork and club activities, just to distract myself. My grades have gone up, and I’m on the varsity team after just a year.”

“…”

“And it’s all because of love. Do you understand me, Kyon? Do you understand the suffering in my chest? Once I’d looked up your home phone number in the junior high registry, do you know how many times I hesitated to call you? My body’s shaking right now. It’s love. The incredible power of love has forced me to call you. Please understand.”

“Look, Nakagawa…”

I licked my dry lips. A bead of cold sweat dripped down my temple. This was bad.

“… I’m sorry, but your love or whatever is just too… um… all I can say is that I’m sorry. I just can’t return your feelings.”

A cold shiver ran down my spine, if ever one had. I should say right now that I am 100 percent heterosexual. I don’t have a hummingbird’s weight worth of desire to bat for the other team. Both potentially and unconsciously, I am totally straight. I mean, consider this—it warms my whole body to think of Asahina’s face and figure. But when I think of Koizumi, I just want to sock him. Which means I’m not even bi, right? Right?

I spoke into the receiver without a clear idea of whom I wanted to address my thoughts to.

“So, uh, Nakagawa—we can stay friends, but…”

Not that we had ever been friends to begin with.

“… there’s just no way it can be a romantic thing. I’m sorry. Okay? Good luck at that boys’ school you’re going to. I’m just going to enjoy my normal high school life at North High. It’s been good talking to you after so long, though. If we meet at a reunion, don’t worry—I won’t out you. So, see ya—”

“Wait, Kyon.”

Nakagawa sounded suspicious.

“What are you talking about? You’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not in love with you. What the heck are you thinking? Get your mind out of the gutter!”

So what was that “It’s love” thing all about earlier? Whom had those words been meant for?

“I don’t actually know her name. I do know she’s a student at North High, though.”

Although I had no idea what he was going on about, I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt like a foot soldier in a foxhole at the front line of battle who’d just heard news of a treaty being signed. Getting a love confession from a guy was kind of surprising. In my case, anyway.

“Well, then explain yourself better! Who’re you in love with?”

There was a limit to how vague you could be, after all. I was just about ready to put him on my block list.

And anyway, what was the big idea, talking so seriously about love while still in his first year of high school? Maybe that was the craziest thing. It was embarrassing just to say it. I mean, love?

“It was this past spring… around May.”

Nakagawa started talking. There was something euphoric about his tone.

“She was walking with you. I can still see it clearly every time I close my eyes. Ah, her form was so fetching, so beautiful. And that wasn’t all. I saw a radiance shining out from behind her. It was no illusion—yes, it was light as though from heaven itself…”

His rapturous tone had a dangerous edge to it, as though he were under the influence of a dangerous drug.

“I was overwhelmed. I’d never felt such a feeling in my entire life. It was like electricity—no, like a thunderbolt had struck me where I stood! I stood there for hours, having lost all track of time. When I came to my senses, it was nighttime. That’s when I knew—it was love.”

“Now wait just a minute—”

Nakagawa’s words were like the feverish ramblings of an
Andromeda Strain
patient, but I tried to make sense of them. According to him, he’d seen me walking with someone in May, and the sight of that person had overwhelmed him. She was a North High student… which meant there weren’t many possibilities.

I hadn’t walked around town with many girls this past spring, to be honest. If she was a North High student, that eliminated my sister, so it had to be one of the three girls in the SOS Brigade.

Which meant…

“It was a fated encounter.”

Nakagawa continued his intoxicated rambling.

“Do you understand, Kyon? I never believed in anything as superstitious as ‘love at first sight.’ I was a strict materialist. But my eyes have been opened. There is love at first sight—there is, Kyon.”

Why did I have to listen to him go on and on about it? Love at first sight? I asked if he was sure he wasn’t being deceived by outward appearances.

“No, I’m not.”

His reply was decisive.

“I’m not being fooled by either face or figure. It’s the inside that’s important. I saw through to her soul in an instant. A glance was all it took. Nothing can change the impact it made on me. Unfortunately, it’s hard to put into words. But I’ve fallen in love—I feel like I want to keep falling. Do you understand, Kyon?”

Now it was my turn to say no.

“Forget about that, anyway—” I decided to cut off Nakagawa’s inane chatter.

“So you were shocked or whatever by that girl in May, right? But it’s winter now. It’s been months, so what have you been doing all this time?”

“That’s right, Kyon. Now that you mention it, it’s been rough. These past few months have been pure suffering. My mind hasn’t had a moment’s rest. I’m constantly agonizing over what to do. I wonder about what part of me could possibly be worthy of a girl like her. I’ll be frank, Kyon. It was only recently that I realized you were the one walking next to her. That’s why I called you. That’s just how dazzling she is. I’ve never felt this way about anything else in my life.”

The fact that he’d fallen head over heels for a girl whose name he didn’t even know, then mooned over her for months was a little frightening.

Asahina’s, Haruhi’s, and Nagato’s faces appeared in my mind; I decided to cut to the chase. To be honest, I just wanted to hang up, but judging by his crazed tone, if I hung up on him he’d just keep redialing me.

“Tell me what the girl you fell for looks like.”

After a moment of silence, Nakagawa spoke.

“She had short hair,” he said, speaking slowly as he recalled her. “And she wore glasses.”

Aha.

“The North High uniform looked spectacular on her.”

Uh-huh.

“And she was surrounded by a glittering aura.”

Well, I don’t know about that.

“So, you’re talking about Nagato, then.”

This was a surprise. I thought for sure the person he was so crazy for would be either Asahina or Haruhi, but Nagato? I guess there was something to Taniguchi’s A-minus grading. My first impression of her had been that she was an antique doll of a girl, quiet and eccentric, but I guess there are girl-connoisseurs everywhere. Of course, now it’s different—my opinion of her has completely changed in the last six months.

“So her name’s Nagato, then?”

Nakagawa’s voice was strangely aroused.