In response to Haruhi’s shout, Asahina uncertainly struck a pose.
“Mi… Mikuru Beam!” she shouted adorably in a forced falsetto with an obvious look at the camera.
In that instant, the camera viewfinder suddenly went pitch dark.
“Ah?”
I couldn’t understand what had happened. I thought the camera had malfunctioned. I removed my eye from the finder to find an ominous-looking black pointy hat.
“…”
Nagato had her hand in a fist before my eyes. Nagato’s right hand had covered the lens and made it dark.
“Huh?” said Haruhi, whose mouth was wide open.
The cross mark Haruhi had drawn was two meters in front of me. Nagato had been standing there just a moment ago. When Haruhi had yelled action and Asahina had shouted, Nagato’s black silhouette had definitely shown up on camera. And not even a second later, Nagato was, for some reason, standing silently with one arm raised, gripping something in front of my face. The only explanation I had was that she warped.
“What?” Haruhi said. “Yuki, when did you get over there?”
Nagato didn’t respond, but instead kept her bead-like eyes on Asahina. As for Asahina, she had her eyes open wide in surprise. And then she slowly blinked—
Nagato’s hand once again moved at the speed of light. She made a grabbing motion in the air as though she were catching a mosquito. What happened to the star-tipped antenna she was supposed to carry?
Huh? I just heard a weird noise. Like a lit match falling into a ditch with running water. A sound like that.
“Huh…?”
The puzzled voice belonged to Asahina. She must not understand the situation. I don’t either. What’s Nagato trying to do?
Asahina, seeking salvation, turned to the side—and an unnatural sound came from where Koizumi was. A sound that could not be mistaken, like air escaping from a punctured tire…
The reflector board that had been raised above Koizumi’s head—just a cheap piece of Styrofoam covered by a sheet of thick white paper—had been severed at a diagonal angle. Koizumi, at a loss for words for once, stood stunned as he watched the top half of the reflector board slide off. But I didn’t have the time to enjoy such a rare sight.
Nagato moved. Nagato alone.
A dark shadow leapt from the ground and landed right in front of Asahina. Nagato’s right hand reached out from under her black mantle and grabbed Asahina’s face. Her slender fingers covered Asahina’s eyes, and her fingertips drove into Asahina’s temples.
“Ahh… Na-Na-Na-Nagato…”
Nagato paid no heed and threw the star waitress to the ground. Looking like the Grim Reaper riding on top of that ample bosom. Asahina screamed and grabbed Nagato’s slender arms, locked in an iron grip.
“Ah!”
I finally came to my senses. What was that? It looked like Nagato had teleported over to interfere with the filming, but then Koizumi’s reflector board split in half, and then the alien attacked the time traveler. When did Haruhi tell the two of them to act out this scene—or I guess that’s not possible. The director, along with Koizumi and me, was also at a loss. And the two of them didn’t look like they were acting.
“… Cut, cut!”
Haruhi stood up and whacked her chair with the megaphone.
“Hey, Yuki. What are you doing? That wasn’t part of the plan.”
Nagato remained silent, riding on the struggling Asahina, whose white thighs were half-exposed.
Upon hearing a soft murmur, I turned to find Koizumi staring at the severed edge of the reflector board with a grimace on his face. He then noticed my gaze and gave me a strange look. What’s that supposed to mean?
Or no, who cares about Koizumi’s meaningful looks. Right now, I have to do something about Nagato’s all-out martial arts antics. I ran, with camera in hand, toward the jumbled waitress and black-garbed mage.
“What are you doing? Hey, Nagato.”
The wide-brimmed hat slowly turned toward me. Nagato’s black-hole-like eyes looked up at me and her thin lips parted.
“…”
My expectations that she would say something were shot. Nagato silently shut her mouth with a look on her face suggesting that she couldn’t find the appropriate words for this situation, before gradually standing up from the mount position. With a jerk of her black-mantled right shoulder, her arm withdrew under her outfit.
“Hah… Hah…”
Asahina was lying on the ground faceup, trembling in fear. Well, yeah, of course she’s scared. If Nagato charged over with that emotionless look and threw me to the ground, I’d be shaking in my boots. Especially since in her current getup, she looks like some kind of dark wizard that you really wouldn’t want to bump into in the middle of the night. Might even make some fainthearted preschooler wet his pants.
“…”
Nagato, eyes covered by the oversize pointy hat, didn’t move an inch. She just stared at me.
I gently helped the sniffling Asahina stand up. The sight of those long eyelashes, bordering gorgeous eyes brimming with tears, only served to make her even more attractive… Huh?
“Man, what are the two of you doing? Please don’t do stuff that isn’t in the script.”
The director who hadn’t even written down the script walked over and went “Huh?” in a dubious voice, just as I had.
“Mikuru, what happened to the contact?”
“What…”
Asahina, clinging to my arms in tears, moved her finger below her left eye.
“Huh?”
The three of us could only stand around looking puzzled. In these situations, you’re supposed to consult the person who has a firm grasp on the situation.
“Nagato, do you know what happened to Asahina’s color contact?”
“Don’t know,” Nagato replied in a flat voice. Pretty sure she’s lying.
“Maybe it fell out during the tussle,” Haruhi guessed incorrectly and began searching the ground. “Kyon, you help look. That wasn’t cheap. It cost quite a bit.”
I joined the scampering Haruhi and got on all fours. Even though I told her it was useless. I had a feeling that I’d seen Nagato’s right hand holding something when she got off Asahina. And that hand had been attached to Asahina’s face when they were tangled together.
“Why can’t we find it anywhere?”
My apologies to the duck-billed Haruhi, but I wasn’t looking very hard. I turned to find Koizumi playing with the pieces of the reflector board, attaching and separating them. You pretend to look, too.
Koizumi smiled.
“It may have blown away in the wind. Since it’s light.”
He was saying irresponsible things as he displayed the remains of the reflector board.
Haruhi jumped up and took them from him. “What happened? It split in half? Hmm, it was cheap anyway. Well, can’t expect anything more from our photography club. Koizumi, tape it back together in the back.”
And with those careless remarks, she turned her crocodile-like gaze back to Asahina, who was spaced out after having finally stopped crying.
“We can’t continue filming without the color contact. What do we do?”
She appeared to be thinking. Eventually, she snapped her fingers as though a lightbulb had gone off in her head.
“That’s it. We’ll say that the eye color changes after she transforms.”
“T-transforms?” said Asahina.
“That’s right! It wouldn’t be very realistic if you were always wearing that costume. That costume will be what you’re wearing after you transform. You’ll usually be wearing a more normal outfit.”
There’s something wrong with people trying to make fiction too realistic, plus I think she just admitted that dressing up as a waitress wasn’t normal.
Asahina was rapidly nodding her head up and down. “I-is that really okay? I really want to wear normal clothes. Really.”
“Which is why Mikuru’s normal outfit will be a bunny girl!”
“Huh? Wh-wh-wh-why?”
“Because that’s the only one I brought. Your usual regular clothing would look too dull on the screen. Wait! I just came up with a backstory. Basically, Mikuru normally acts as a bunny girl attracting customers for the shopping district. When she senses danger, she immediately transforms! She turns into a combat waitress. Well, isn’t that perfect?”
Didn’t you just say something about being realistic?
“Then let’s get started.”
Haruhi smiled a dangerous smile that looked like a crescent moon as she pinned Asahina’s arms behind her back. “Ow, ow, ow,” cried the waitress as she was taken into the woods.
Hmm.
… Well, I guess that’s fine. I can only pray for Asahina, but it is very convenient for me if Haruhi runs off right now. Her sacrifice will not be wasted. And I can’t wait to see her in a bunny suit.
… And that worked out well since I had something to ask Nagato.
“So what was with the improvisation back there?”
Nagato impassively pressed down on the brim of the pointy hat, leaving most of her face covered by its shadow, and slowly extended her right hand. The outfit was just something on top of her uniform, so her right sleeve was that of a sailor uniform. She then flipped her right index finger so it was facing upward. A blue contact lenses was resting atop it.
So you snatched it after all.
“Here,” Nagato murmured. “Laser.”
And with that, she shut her mouth.
“…”
You know, it’s been on my mind for a while, but your explanations don’t even satisfy the bare-minimum requirements. You could at least try talking for ten seconds at a time.
Nagato stared at her own finger.
“Invisible coherent light possessing a high level of directivity.”
She spoke in an excruciatingly slow voice. I see. Invisible coherent light…
Sorry, I know even less now.
“Laser?” I said.
“Yes,” said Nagato.
“That’s quite a surprise,” chimed in Koizumi. He picked up the contact in his fingers and observed it through the light. “It looks like an ordinary contact lens.”
He sounds like he’s really impressed. I couldn’t figure out what to be surprised about, let alone be impressed.
“What’s this all mean?”
Koizumi chuckled.
“Could you show us your right palm? No, not you. Nagato.”
The black-garbed girl directed her gaze to me as though she were asking for permission, so I nodded. Upon confirmation, she unclenched the remaining three fingers and thumb on her hand, at which point I stopped breathing.
“…”
A gust of silence blew around the three of us. I shivered and finally understood. So that’s what it was.
Nagato’s plain right palm was riddled with a number of small, black burned holes. They looked like they were the product of stabbing by red-hot tongs. There were five of them.
“I didn’t have time to shield.”
Don’t act so unconcerned about it. It looks damn painful.
“Very powerful. Happened in an instant.”
“So the laser beam came from Asahina’s left eye?” asked Koizumi.
“Yes.”
Don’t just say yes. Same goes for you, Koizumi. There’s something that needs to be done before we figure out the situation.
“I will commence restoration shortly.”
True to her words, the holes in Nagato’s hand were swiftly covered by her original white skin, right before our eyes.
“What the hey?”
I could only groan.
“Was Asahina seriously firing beams from her eyes?”
“Not a particle projection cannon. Concentrated light.”
Big difference. A laser or maser or the Markalite FAHP all look the same to an amateur. Like I’m going to know the difference between an ion cannon and an antiproton cannon. Who cares how it works as long as it blows up monsters.
“The problem here would be that Asahina has been shooting off heat rays without any monsters around.”
“Not heat rays. Photon laser.”
Like I said, big difference. We don’t need scientific verification.
Nagato fell silent and closed her right hand. I covered my head with my arms while Koizumi flicked the contact.
“Was this an ability Asahina was previously capable of?”
“No,” Nagato replied instantly. “At the present, Mikuru Asahina is a normal human being. Her makeup is similar to that of ordinary people.”
“So there’s something special about this color contact?” Koizumi offered.
“No. It is a mere decoration.”
Thought so. After all, Haruhi was the one who brought it. Actually, that’s the biggest problem here. The fact that she, and nobody else, was the one who brought it.
There was something that needed to be emphasized. If Nagato hadn’t covered me, Asahina’s laser beam would have gone through the video camera lens, through my eyeball, burning up a number of things, before finally exiting the back of my skull. Pretty sure my brains would have been smoking. That’d be bad, yeah.
Still, it feels like Nagato’s always saving my life. Pretty embarrassing.
“Which means…”
Koizumi smiled grimly as he stroked his chin.
“This is Suzumiya’s doing, isn’t it? She wanted there to be a Mikuru Beam, and reality was altered to accommodate that. That’s how it appeared.”
“Yes.”
Nagato gave confirmation without a hint of emotion on her face. I wasn’t able to stay so calm.
“Hold on. There isn’t any magic or whatever in the contact, right? How can it fire killer rays just because Haruhi wished for it?”
“Suzumiya doesn’t need magic or unknown technology. If she believes something to exist, then it actually does.”
Don’t expect your bullshit reasoning to convince me.
“Haruhi didn’t seriously mean to shoot beams when she said that. That was just within the movie. Even she said that it was just a joke, didn’t she?”
“Indeed.”
Koizumi also nodded. Don’t just accept my objection. Now I can’t keep going.
“We are also aware that Suzumiya possesses common sense. However, it is also a fact that the common sense of this world does not apply to her. This incident is most likely the result of some kind of extraordinary phenomenon. That would be… Oh, they’ve come back. We shall continue this later.”
Koizumi casually slipped the contact into his shirt pocket.
What a pain.
Use wit and tact to save the world from destruction, beat the crap out of bad guys, no questions asked, hold limited ESP battles within a conveniently small world, and throw in some random human melodrama….
Fact of the matter is, I’d prefer it that way. If I have to be dragged into a world that sounds like it’s out of fiction, give me something that’s way out there. The more removed from reality, the better.
But look at me now. Talking to a certain classmate resulted in disaster, I’m surrounded by a bunch of people with backgrounds I completely don’t understand, and we’re doing stuff I can’t even begin to try to comprehend. Shooting beams from eyes? What’s with that? What’s the point of trying?
On second thought, not a single member of the mysterious trio of Asahina, Nagato, and Koizumi has actually proven their identity. All of them delivered their little introductions, but I’m still not crazy enough to buy their crap. Not even after being involved in all those incidents that might suggest otherwise. Everything has its standards, and I’ve got my own set of them. Though they’re starting to get out of whack.
According to these people, first off, Asahina was a time traveler from the future. She wouldn’t tell me what year she was from, but I knew why she was here. To observe Haruhi Suzumiya.
Nagato was an alien-made humanoid interface. Don’t start going, “What’s that?” That was my reaction too, so we’re even. As for why something like that is on Earth, it’s because Nagato’s superiors, the Data Overmind or whatever, apparently have an interest in Haruhi Suzumiya.
And then Koizumi was an esper dispatched from some mysterious organization known as the “Agency.” One of his missions was to transfer to this school, and his job was to monitor Haruhi Suzumiya.
As for Haruhi herself, surrounded by three people with such bizarre profiles, her identity is still the greatest mystery. According to Asahina, she was a “time warp.” Nagato said she was the “potential for evolution.” Koizumi went so far as to call her “God.”
Seriously, good work, everyone.
And while you’re at it, do something about Haruhi. Or the female brigade chief will remain a mystery and I’ll remain trapped in her neutron-star-level gravitational field. I can live with it for now, but, you know, try to picture how it’ll be ten years from now. What are we supposed to do if Haruhi’s still Haruhi? That’ll be pretty ugly. Illegally occupying club rooms, prowling the streets with the eyes of a predator, going berserk while causing a ruckus, and unstable mood swings can be forgiven when you’re still a teenager. Not the actions of a grown adult. She’d just be a social misfit. Do Asahina, Koizumi, and Nagato still intend to go along with Haruhi at that point?
As for me, I’ll apologize first. Sorry, I don’t have any intention of tagging along. Because time is unforgiving. Life doesn’t have reset buttons falling out of the sky, and you’re not going to find save points marked on the side of the road.
It doesn’t matter if Haruhi distorted time, caused an explosion of data, or created and destroyed worlds. I’m my own person. She’s her own person. I can’t go along with her childish game forever. Even if I wanted to, everybody has to go home eventually. And if you look a year or ten years into the future, that’s an undeniable fact.
“How long are you going to keep grumbling? Shouldn’t you already be used to being seen in this outfit?”
I could see Haruhi dragging Asahina away from the trees.
“Behave like an actress. Bravely shedding your clothes is the fast track to a blue-ribbon rookie award! Not that you’ll be shedding your clothes this time. Have to keep something in reserve.”
She looked like a hunting hound bringing in a rabbit. Haruhi returned with bunny-girl Asahina, wearing high heels that didn’t look very suitable for walking on the dirt. She had a smile so bright, I was expecting her to sneeze at any moment.
“Once this movie’s a success, I’ll use the proceeds to take everyone to a hot spring. Think of it as a vacation. Mikuru wants to go, right?”
Still… Well, whatever. I’ll follow this through to the end. I would have preferred to be involved in something like the story from your movie. It would have been perfect if I were in the Itsuki Koizumi character’s position, but it appears that I don’t have any hidden powers.
I’ll just behave and play your straight man.
In a few years, we’ll all be able to look back and go, “Yeah, we did some crazy stuff back then,” and laugh about all of this.
Probably.
Bunny-girl Asahina walked along, looking even more embarrassed than when she was a waitress. Haruhi was the only one who had a smug look on her face. What are you so happy about?
I pretended to fiddle with the focus on the video camera as I zoomed in on Asahina’s cleavage. You know, I have to check that thing.
A small mole rested on her white, left mound. Upon closer inspection, it was shaped like a star. Confirmation complete. This person’s definitely my Asahina. Not a fake.
“What are you doing?”
Haruhi’s face popped up in front of the lens.
“You’re not allowed to shoot anything I didn’t order. We’re not filming your home videos.”
I know. Notice how I haven’t pressed the record button. I was just looking.
“Okay, everybody, gather around! And get ready! We’ll be shooting Mikuru’s daily life now. Mikuru, you just walk around naturally. And the camera will follow.”
“What kind of girl shows up at a forest park in a bunny-girl outfit on a daily basis?”
“Who cares about that? It’s considered normal in the movie. Trying to apply realistic standards to fiction is just weird.”
I’d like to return that line straight back at you. Except that in your case, you’re applying fictional standards to reality so it’s the other way around.
Afterward, Asahina, unaware that she could fire killer beams from her eyes, plucked flowers from the park, gathered dead leaves and blew them into the air, and danced and hopped around on the grass per Haruhi’s instructions, growing more and more exhausted in the process.
And then Haruhi dealt the final blow.
“Hmm. Doesn’t feel right with mountains in the background. I suppose a bunny girl wouldn’t be walking around the mountains. Let’s head into town!”
With that complete reversal of what she’d been saying just a moment prior, we found ourselves on the bus and on the move again.
The leading actor, Koizumi, who at this point had been on lighting duty the whole time, was holding on to the strap with the taped-up reflector board and other items I had forced on him tucked under his arm.
I was standing next to him, and Nagato stood next to me, like a dark shadow. Only Haruhi and Asahina were sitting in the empty seats. Haruhi had taken the camera from me and sat right next to Asahina, filming her from the side.
Asahina had her head down as she answered Haruhi’s questions in a subdued voice. It looked like the director was conducting an interview of the lead actress.
The bus traveled down the winding mountain road toward the residential area. I prayed earnestly inside my heart that the driver wasn’t constantly looking in the rearview mirror. Please drive with your eyes looking forward.
Perhaps my prayers were heard, since our bus safely reached the station, our destination. By this point, the bus was filled with passengers who were all staring at Haruhi, Asahina, and Nagato. The sight of those bouncy bunny ears and her exposed creamy shoulders and back was devastating. It felt like the bunny version of Asahina would be the talk of not only North High, but the entire city.
That might be Haruhi’s aim. “There was a pretty bunny girl on the bus yesterday.” “Yeah, I saw her too.” “What’s that you say?” “I think she belongs to North High’s SOS Brigade.” “SOS Brigade?” “Yes, the SOS Brigade.” “The SOS Brigade, huh? I’ll remember that.” That’s probably how she expects it to go. Asahina isn’t the SOS Brigade’s billboard. So what is she? you might ask. Obviously, she serves as the tea girl and my spiritual balm. I’m sure that’s what Asahina wants. Definitely.
Of course, trying to tell Haruhi what you want is like trying to talk to a wall. Thanks to Haruhi’s miraculous mechanism that repels anything inconvenient anyone else might have to say away from her eardrums. It might be osmotic pressure. If I figure out how it works, the Nobel Prize committee might at least consider me a nominee in the Physiology category. Anybody want to give it a shot? (The trick is to just casually throw it out there.)
That day, Asahina was stuck as a bunny girl until the sun set. As for what she did, well, she just walked around in that outfit. This wasn’t much different from the usual magical mystery patrol, except that the extra attention just made it all the more tiring and I was constantly worrying if someone might call the cops. Haruhi had no concept of what “approval to film” was, so she was free to shoot wherever she wanted. Her sense of freedom was about as dignified as papal authority during the age of Innocent III—I would say. Her definition of “freedom” was mistaken.
“That’s enough for today.”
Haruhi finally had a look on her face signaling that our work was done, and the rest of us, except for Nagato, breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long day. Tomorrow’s Sunday and I want a long, hard rest.
“Okay, see everybody tomorrow then. Meet up at the same time and place as today,” she said as though it were no big deal. We’ll be receiving compensatory time, right?
“What’s that? You realize that we’re behind in filming? There isn’t time for people to be relaxing! You can rest all you want once the cultural festival is over. Until we’re finished, assume that red-letter days don’t exist on the calendar!”
We’re already behind schedule after two days of filming. Can you work on your time-management skills? Behind? Does that mean the hours of footage I shot today aren’t going to be used? Or does Haruhi intend to make a Taiga drama? We’re not making a daily broadcast show here. Just a one-shot amateur movie to screen at a cultural festival.
In any case, Haruhi didn’t look like she was worried about a single thing. She shoved all the equipment on me and, carrying only her armband and cell phone, turned with a top-class smile on her face.
“See you all tomorrow then! We’re definitely going to make this movie a success. No, with my directorial vision, the movie is already guaranteed to be a success. The rest depends on how hard you people work. Make sure you show up on time. If anyone doesn’t show up, there will be lynching and heads will roll!”
And with that proclamation, she walked off humming Marilyn Manson’s “Rock Is Dead.”
“I’ll let Asahina know,” Koizumi whispered in my ear before he left. Asahina had Koizumi’s blazer draped over her head. If it were winter, I’d have brought a coat, but unfortunately the weather had been stuck in a late-summer pattern. I directed an irritated glare at the pile of items next to my feet.
“Let her know what?”
“About the laser we were discussing. There shouldn’t be any odd rays being fired if her eye doesn’t change color. That’s how it works according to Suzumiya’s rules, so we should be okay if she doesn’t put on any color contacts.”
The reflector-board-carrying leading bastard flashed me what looked like one of those insurance-salesman smiles.
“Let us err on the side of caution and prepare a safety net. I’m sure she will be willing to cooperate. After all, beams are dangerous.”
Koizumi walked over to the black-garbed figure that looked something like a human crow, Nagato.
As I returned home carrying my huge load of crap, my sister came out to greet me, looking at me like I was some kind of weird animal. The grade-schooler who had been responsible for the nickname “Kyon” spreading all over started spouting stuff like “Is that a video camera? Yay, film me, film me!” and other nonsense, but I just said “Moron” and went to my room.
In any case, I was completely exhausted. Any desire to engage in any further unbecoming cameraman activities had long evaporated. Asahina was one thing, but why should I have to engage in something as sad as recording footage of my own little sister? No fun in that.
I set down my bag along with the backpack and paper bags before collapsing on my bed, attaining a brief moment’s respite before my mother sent my sister up to elbow-smash me awake for dinner.