The Intrigues of Haruhi Suzumiya (11 page)

“I think Nagato knows this herself too. That’s why I don’t think I should be here. It just makes things difficult for her.”

Asahina’s eyes were serious. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be in Nagato’s home, it was that she was being considerate of Nagato. We already knew what could happen when too many bugs turned up in Nagato’s system, and we knew what caused them to accumulate. As a result, she’d restricted herself. No more synchronization. She was trying to avoid bugs of her own free will. Was Asahina really Nagato’s ideal? A person who, unlike herself, takes action without knowledge? A time traveler—her perfect opposite.

It was the ultimate irony. Asahina suffered from her own ignorance, while Nagato knew too much.

I looked up at Nagato’s place. “Yeah…”

Asahina might have been right. When I thought about it, the most perceptive people I’d known had all been female—although Haruhi and Tsuruya were a little
too
perceptive.

Nagato had her own virtues, and they were virtues enough. But when she herself didn’t realize that, it made things difficult. If pressed about it, she’d just feign ignorance.

It was also possible that Asahina was overthinking this. Nagato might be just fine as she was. She might just occasionally run out of books to read and stare at Asahina without any particular intent. But if Asahina was worried, I would just ignore her concerns.

“I understand. I’ll tell Nagato for you. We’ll figure out where you’re going to stay later.”

She could stay at my place as a last resort, but it wasn’t like there weren’t any alternatives.

“Anyway, there’s something else I wanted you to look at. I got another letter in my shoe locker.”

Asahina looked at the letter I gave her as though it were a crib sheet for a test she was about to take. “Oh, this is”—she pointed to the very end of the directions—“an order code. The very highest priority.”

I hadn’t been able to figure out whether the line was a code or a signature of some kind. I asked if it was some kind of future language.

“No, it’s not a word… um, it’s a code. One that has a special priority for us. It means no matter what the order is, it must be carried out.”

“You mean…
this?
” I asked, thinking about the contents of the letter. “What point could there possibly be in a prank like this?”

“That’s…” Asahina began, her head cocked, confusion on her face. “I… have no idea.”

“What would happen if we ignore this and do nothing?”

“We cannot ignore it,” said Asahina flatly. “Having seen that code, I must take action to ensure its execution.” She looked at me uncertainly. “And you’ll do it too, won’t you, Kyon?”

We did as the letter said and proceeded to the location in question. Our method of transportation was a bicycle; it should go without saying that Asahina rode behind me on the luggage rack. In any case, although our target was within the city, it was still some distance on a bicycle.

We killed some time wandering around; by my watch it was now just ten minutes past six. The letter had directed me to set up the materials I now carried between 6:12 and 6:15.

I felt a little lonely, and not just because the sun had already set. The road was a bit removed from the local residences and didn’t see much traffic. Then there was a little side path that branched off it, which was unpaved. It didn’t seem like a private drive, but neither was it a shortcut to anywhere in particular, which made one wonder why anybody would go to the trouble of using it. The
x
on the hand-drawn map was just at the intersection of that little path and the road, a few centimeters away from the edge of the asphalt.

We were lucky there weren’t any pedestrians around. What we were about to do was not exactly upstanding behavior—to put it bluntly, it was a practical joke.

All I needed were three things: a hammer, some nails, and a steel can. You can probably guess what I did.

“All right, I’d better get to it,” I said.

“Yes,” nodded Asahina.

I’d been hiding behind a telephone pole; I jumped out, ran for the spot, and began pounding nails into the ground. The ground was pretty hard. I had to pound them really hard to get them even halfway in—but I couldn’t risk making a lot of noise and possibly catching the eye of a passerby.

I was in a hurry, so I don’t think it took me more than thirty seconds, all told.

I covered the nails with the can, then hurried back to the telephone pole, where Asahina awaited. We then found a darker place a bit farther away in which to hide.

So what was going to happen? I was really interested to see what effect this prank was supposed to have.

I didn’t have to wait long. It was 6:14.

Opposite the street from where we hid, a male-looking silhouette came walking along at a leisurely pace. I could tell he was wearing a long coat and carrying a shoulder bag. He didn’t seem to notice us.

He seemed to be looking down as he walked. He didn’t seem particularly cheerful. Suddenly, he stopped. He was looking directly at the empty can.

“Haah…”

I heard a sigh. Just when I was wondering if he were the type to take offense at litter, he lined up a kick (with perfect form) and directed it with all his strength at the can.

Of course, the can did not go sailing between a pair of notional goal posts; in fact, it didn’t move from its position at all—

“Gah—?! Aaaaugh!”

The man clutched his foot and fell to the ground.

“What the hell?! Ugh, it hurts!”

He was literally rolling around on the ground, apparently in intense agony.

“Crap, who—who did this? Owwww…”

Asahina and I looked at each other.

Had this been the objective?

Who knew?

We had a silent exchange of glances, then nodded in unison and emerged from the darkness, walking along the path as though just happening to pass by.

“Are you all right?” Asahina asked of the man, who lay face up, holding his foot in his hands. I casually stood next to Asahina, looking down at the man, who continued to groan.

“Huh?”

The face was distorted with pain, and I didn’t recognize it; he was a slender man in his twenties. Underneath his long coat, he wore a suit and tie, and he looked like a regular working stiff.

“Do you need a hand?” I said, my conscience torturing itself.

“Uh… yeah, thanks.” The man took my hand and stood, wincing as he stood on his other foot. “Crap, who would pull a childish prank like this?”

“Yeah, terrible, huh?” I squatted down and picked up the can. It had a huge dent in it. The nails had been knocked diagonal too. The guy had really taken a serious shot. “Geez, that’s dangerous.”

I tried to sound plausible as I pulled the nails out of the ground. Thanks to the man’s kick, they came out pretty easily. I slipped the nails in my pocket to conceal the evidence.

The man raised a lowered leg several times, each time wincing and clucking his tongue. “What a pain. Doesn’t seem like it’s broken, though… maybe I twisted my ankle?”

“Um,” said Asahina. “Maybe you should go to the hospital?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

The man hopped toward the edge of the automotive-traffic-bearing road, teetering dangerously as he approached.

“Here, lean on my shoulder,” I said, coming alongside him so he wouldn’t fall over. “Shall we call an ambulance?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ll call a cab. Don’t want to make too big a deal out of this. I hate to ask, but could you help me over to the main road?”

“Sure, of course.” No matter the reason, this was my fault, after all. I really wanted to apologize.

The man held on to my shoulder as he hopped along. From what I could tell by the light of the streetlights, he seemed pretty good-looking.

“I’m kind of at a dead end at my job,” he said apologetically, as we were midway through crossing the street. “It’s my own fault
for thinking that kicking a can would help me clear my head. I got what I deserve.”

“No, I really think it’s the fault of whatever jerk set the prank up.”

“Yeah, I guess. What kind of nasty little kid still does that kind of thing?”

He looked back and forth between Asahina and me, who was tottering along behind us, and smiled slightly. “Is she your girlfriend?”

After being at a loss for how to answer for a couple of seconds, I replied, “Uh… kinda…” I lied—hey, why not.

“Ah,” said the man simply, before his face returned to its pained expression.

We reached the intersection and had the good luck to be able to quickly wave down a passing taxicab, helping the man (who’d broken into a cold sweat, despite the temperature) into the backseat.

“Thanks, you two. And sorry again.”

It really was us who should’ve been apologizing—but this Asahina was completely innocent, so if he ever found out the truth and came to settle the score, I hoped he’d take it up with Asahina the Elder.

As we bowed and backed away from the car, Asahina asked me a question.

“Is that all we have to do?”

“Mmm…”

Asahina hugged herself and sighed, discomfited.

It was half past six.

There was an important restriction on us.

It was this: I could not allow Haruhi and this time’s Asahina to see future Asahina and me together. If it were just Haruhi, I
could probably figure out some kind of excuse, but it was hard to imagine that present-Asahina would write off seeing an identical copy of herself as a mere look-alike. And if we happened to bump into the entire SOS Brigade on its way home from school, that would be a total disaster.

But according to future-Asahina, she’d never seen her doppelganger during her last eight days, so it stood to reason that we’d be able to walk around without worrying about it—but there was no way to know whether something might go wrong, and if my hard work in the present was being reflected in the future, then I’d still have to make a special effort now to ensure that future, so I couldn’t afford not to take the situation seriously… could I?

I had no idea. Why did things always have to be so complicated? If the Asahina that had traveled back from the future had only been Asahina the Elder, instead of the one from eight days in the future, things probably would’ve gone more smoothly.

I regarded the small upperclassman at my side.

Her North High uniform–clad body looked stiffened by the cold. It probably wasn’t much fun braving a windy February night without so much as a jacket. Like her, all I was wearing was my school uniform, and I was freezing.

“Shall we go?” I said, gesturing toward my parked bicycle.

Asahina nodded, replying, “But where? To your house?”

I desperately wanted to do exactly that, but somewhere with fewer tattletales would be better. As her older brother, I knew better than anybody that my sister’s mouth could open faster than a grandma’s wallet when said grandma was trying to spoil her grandson.

“We’ll go to someone else who’ll let you stay with her, someone besides Nagato. I doubt she’ll ask any questions, if I know her.”

I got on the bike and gestured to a confused Asahina to do likewise, whereupon she sat sidesaddle on the luggage rack and off I went, carrying my light schoolmate behind me.

The spot where I stopped my bike would have been familiar to any SOS Brigade member.

Including Asahina.

“This… this isn’t—”

She hopped off the bike and looked up at the gate in front of the residence.

I flipped down the bike’s kickstand and locked it up. “This person will absolutely help you out. She’d never fail to come to your rescue.”

“B-but, we can’t let her know—”

“You just leave that to me.”

Beside the gigantic traditional-style gate there was a single modern touch—an intercom. But before I pushed the button on it, I had to work something out.

“Asahina, your ear.”

“O-okay…”

She obediently tilted her head, brushing her hair back to reveal her perfect ear. I couldn’t help but remember when Haruhi bit down on this same ear. I wanted to do the same thing, but I knew full well that this was neither the time nor the place.

“Right, so, this is what I’m thinking of doing…”

Asahina’s eyes went wide at my whispered explanation. “Eh, b-but, I don’t think I can do that kind of acting!” she protested with a quivering voice. “That’s too hard…”

Indeed it would be. If she really had to act, that is.

But I knew there’d be no need for that. All Asahina had to do was be herself. Nobody would ever notice.

“Anyway, just do that. It’ll work out fine; trust me.”

I smiled optimistically, then hit the intercom button.

“…”

“…”

Asahina and I silently waited for a reply. There was only a slim chance that the person I was trying to reach would reply personally, so I rehearsed the exchange over in my head. I was on my third run-through, and had waited close to a minute, when I started to darkly suspect that—surely not!—nobody was home. Just then—

“Hey now, wait there!”

An energetic voice echoed from beyond the gate, followed quickly by a
clunk
. The great wooden door creaked open.

“Hey! Kyon, Mikuru! What’re you doing out here at this hour? Is it just the two of you? My, don’t you make a couple! I’m practically jealous!” said Tsuruya with a broad smile.

Tsuruya’s clothing was rather different from her usual school outfit.

She wore a casual kimono with a traditional short jacket, her long hair tied artlessly back in a bun. It matched the old-fashioned Japanese garden perfectly.

Letting us onto the Tsuruya estate grounds, she then replaced the square timber that kept the great gate locked.

“Still, this is really rare! Kyon and Mikuru out for a hike in the freezing cold? Without Haru-nyan, even?”

“There are some extenuating circumstances… actually, Tsuruya—how did you know it was us at the gate?”

I’d heard only silence from the intercom, after all.

“Oh, yeah, there’s a security camera above the gate. It’s super easy to tell who’s there! When I looked I saw you two, so I figured I’d better come out to see ya. Was that okay?” Tsuruya’s wooden sandals clacked against the ground as we walked along the shrine-like path that led to the main wing of the house. She smiled. “Hm? Mikuru? You don’t look well—are you all right?”