After a few minutes of waiting, Haruhi once again emerged from the store carrying a bulky box.

“What is it this time?”

“A weapon,” Haruhi replied as she pressed the box on me. Upon a closer look, I saw that the box contained something like a plastic model. And it appeared to be a pistol-type firearm. What was she going to do with this?

“We’ll use it in the action scenes. Some gun action. A flashy gunfight is one of the basics of entertainment. I’d like to blow up a few buildings while we’re at it. Do you happen to know where they sell dynamite? I wonder if the general store sells it.”

How would I know? I can at least tell you that you’re not going to find any in convenience stores or on the Internet. You might find some lying around if you go to a quarry…

… was the next thing I was about to say, but I swallowed those words. Think about who this is. I wouldn’t put it past her to go off in the dead of night to steal fuses and TNT gun-powder.

I set the boxes containing the video camera and model gun on the ground and turned to Haruhi. “So? What do we do with all this stuff?”

“Take them home with you for now. Then bring them to the club room tomorrow. It’d be a pain to go back to school at this point.”

“Me?”

“You.”

Haruhi crossed her arms with a cheery look on her face. A sight rarely seen in the classroom. Her SOS Brigade–only smile. Whenever Haruhi smiled like this, I ended up having to run around cleaning up after each disaster. Was I the opposite of the straw millionaire?

“Um.”

Asahina was timidly raising her hand.

“What should I do…?”

“You’re fine, Mikuru. You can go home now. We’re done for the day.”

Asahina blinked her eyes rapidly like a raccoon cub bewitched by a fox spirit, since the only thing she’d done all day was nervously follow Haruhi around with me. She had no idea why Haruhi forced her to come along.

Haruhi looked like she still had enough energy left to do a second round of cardio exercises as she led us to the nearest station. Apparently that took care of the day’s Haruhi-related activities. Either her negotiating skills or underhanded talents had yielded a video camera and a small gun. No expense charged. In other words, they were free.

People used to say that there was nothing more frightening than getting something for free. The problem was, Haruhi wasn’t the least bit scared. Actually, if something out there is capable of scaring her, please get in touch with me.

The next day, I found myself lugging excess baggage in addition to my book bag up the hill.

“Yo, Kyon. Whatcha carrying there? A present for some good little children?”

That was Taniguchi, running up next to me. A simple-minded, single-celled idiot. An unmistakably ordinary student you could find anywhere. “Ordinary.” What a wonderful word. It means so much to me in my current situation. It has the ring of reality to it.

I hesitated for a moment before passing the lighter of the two plastic bags on to Taniguchi.

“What is this? A model gun? I didn’t know you had such a dark hobby.”

“Not mine. Haruhi’s.”

And I suppose I should have followed up by saying, You shouldn’t be so quick to label it as a dark hobby.

“I really can’t picture Suzumiya disassembling and cleaning a Glock by herself.”

Neither can I. Which means somebody else is going to be disassembling and reassembling this thing. I should mention that when I was a kid, I once attempted to put together a certain mobile suit, which ended with me giving up when I couldn’t attach the right shoulder joint.

“Must be rough for you.”

Taniguchi didn’t sound the least bit like he thought it was rough for me.

“We could search through all ages and places and the only person willing to babysit Suzumiya would be you. I guarantee it. So hook up with her already.”

What the hell is he saying? “I have no intention of attaching myself to Haruhi in any feasible way. The one I would want to attach myself to would be Asahina.” As would anyone else if given the choice.

Taniguchi cackled like a demon.

“Yeah, that won’t do. She’s the angel of North High. A resting spot for the hearts of the male students. Unless you want half the school to stuff you into a bag, don’t do anything funny. You wouldn’t want me to lose my head and stab you in the back, right?”

“Then I’ll go with my next choice, Nagato.”

“That’s also out of the question. She has more secret admirers than you might expect. Why’d she stop wearing glasses? Did she switch to contacts?”

“Beats me. Ask her yourself.”

“From what I’ve heard, she ignores anyone who tries to talk to her. Apparently, Nagato’s class believes that if she says a single word that day, something good or bad will definitely happen.”

“Don’t talk about Nagato like she’s a bamboo flower. That kind of fortune-telling died out long ago. And while it’s true that she isn’t quite normal, she still has some normal qualities—well, I guess not.”

“In other words, you and Suzumiya are made for each other. You’re the only one capable of talking with her, and it’s best to minimize the number of her potential victims. So take care of it. That reminds me. The cultural festival’s coming up. What will your club be doing this time?”

“Stop asking me.”

I’m not the SOS Brigade public relations guy.

But Taniguchi calmly continued. “If I ask Suzumiya, she’ll just feed me some random nonsense. And there’s the fear that if I ask at the wrong time, she’ll snap. If I ask Yuki Nagato, she won’t give me an answer. And Mikuru Asahina is too hard to approach. Talking to that other guy pisses me off for some reason. So I’m asking you.”

The bastard uses some twisted logic. “You’re making it sound like I’m some kind of nice guy.”

“You’re not? As far as I’m concerned, you’re the kind of nice guy who’d be willing to walk off a cliff with Asahina.”

The front gate was within sight. I took the plastic bag back from Taniguchi with a discouraged look on my face.

I didn’t know where Haruhi’s trail was going to lead us, but I was definitely thinking that I shouldn’t expect anything good. Haruhi and I weren’t the only ones walking this path. At least three others I knew of were in for the ride. And while two of those were able to take care of themselves, Asahina wasn’t safe on her own. She was so hopeless at predicting what was about to happen to her that you would never think she was a time traveler. Well, I guess that works out.

“Which is why,” I said, “somebody has to protect her.” Yeah. I’m sounding like a main character now. Except the only thing I’m protecting her from would be Haruhi’s evil sexual harassment.

On a roll, I continued. “Since I have this chance, I’m going to protect her. I don’t care what all the guys in the school have to say. They can go form their own guardian angels group if they want.”

Taniguchi once again cackled like one of those wailing-old-man demons. “Don’t overdo it. There’s at least one new moon every month.”

After delivering what sounded like a notice from a phantom killer, he ducked into the front gate.

As I walked through the hallway in front of our classroom with my burden, I came across Haruhi putting her things into her locker.

I followed suit, stuffing the boxes containing the electronics and the plastic model into the steel locker with my seat number.

“Kyon, we’re going to be busy.” Without even saying good morning, Haruhi slammed her locker shut and turned to me with a smile like Indian summer.

“Same goes for Mikuru, Yuki, and Koizumi. I won’t allow any complaining. The movie script is already bubbling in my mind. It’s almost ready to burst. All that remains is to put it into action.”

“I see,” I answered halfheartedly as I entered the classroom.

My desk was second from the back of the room. We’d changed seating arrangements multiple times since the beginning of the first semester, but I had yet to get a seat in the last row. Because Haruhi always ended up sitting behind me. It had gotten to the point where it had become a bit too unnatural to shrug off, but I still believed it to be coincidence. If I don’t have faith in coincidence, coincidence is going to lose confidence in itself.

I’m actually a pretty considerate person. Guess anybody hanging around with Haruhi would have to be. Like a defensive midfielder in a soccer match who has to run down loose balls. Since Haruhi would be the super-offensive-minded forward who’s way offside the second someone touches the ball. She might even be standing behind the opposing keeper. Passing the ball to her would just result in the referee raising his flag, but since this is Haruhi, she’d just say it was a mistaken call. In fact, she would say with a straight face that the rule itself makes no sense. She might even start arguing that picking up the ball and running into the goal should count as a goal. The suggestion that she take up rugby would go ignored.

The best way to deal with an audacious person on a rampage would be to casually leave the scene like you never heard a thing or give up and do as she says. The other people in our school year were already doing so.

Which was why when Haruhi disappeared from the classroom when sixth period ended and the final homeroom period began, neither homeroom teacher Okabe nor anybody else said a word about the fact that the seat behind me was empty. Did they not notice? Or were they just pretending not to notice? Not like they could do anything about it. Well, everyone knew it was best to just leave her alone.

I headed for the clubhouse with a bad feeling in my gut before coming to a halt in front of the club room, carrying the bags loaded with assorted boxes.

I could hear something. Asahina’s helpless voice crying out. Haruhi’s obnoxious voice shouting. She was doing it again.

If I’d opened the door just then, I probably would’ve witnessed a very fine sight. Being a man with common sense, though, I stoically resisted my fantasies and waited patiently.

After five minutes, the weak struggle inside came to a finish. I was sure Haruhi was standing with her hands on her hips and a triumphant look on her face. Based on the reasoning that a rabbit cannot win against an anaconda, I couldn’t see Asahina ever winning.

I knocked.

“Come in!”

A boisterous response from Haruhi. As I wondered about the contents of the paper bags I’d seen that morning, I opened the door and entered the room. The first thing I saw was, in fact, Haruhi’s triumphant face. However, I was pretty sick of that sight. With fervent ardor, I turned my attention to the person seated in the metal chair in front of Haruhi.

A waitress sat there looking at me with teary eyes.

“…”

The waitress, hair disheveled, was doing an impression of Nagato being silent. Her head was drooped. Her full chestnut hair had been tied by Haruhi into two pigtails dangling behind her head. Oddly enough, Nagato was nowhere to be seen.

“Well?” Haruhi asked me with a self-satisfied smirk. Why do you look like you had something to do with this? Asahina’s adorableness is her own…. Then again.

Y’know? I think it looks nice. How does Asahina feel about it? Not that I have any objections…. But isn’t the skirt a tad too short?

Asahina was as perfect a waitress as one hundred percent fruit juice is pure. Her clenched fists rested on her knees.

You look so peculiarly perfect, like you’re dressed in tailor-made clothes. Which was why I spent a good thirty seconds staring in silence at Asahina before jumping when I was tapped on the shoulder.

“Why, hello. I’m terribly sorry about yesterday. We were supposed to do a run-through of the script today, but I had them wrap things up early. I’m finding myself endlessly running around in circles.”

Koizumi’s handsome, cheery face peered over my shoulder into the club room.

“Oh?” He smiled merrily. “What do we have here?”

Koizumi passed next to me and set his book bag on the table before sitting in one of the metal chairs. “It looks quite splendid on you, Asahina.”

“We all know that already. What we don’t know is why a waitress is in this dirty little room that is neither a café nor a family restaurant.”

“That’s because, Kyon,” Haruhi said, “Mikuru will be wearing this outfit in the movie.”

“A maid won’t work?”

“A maid’s job is to go to a rich person’s mansion and provide personal service. It’s different for a waitress. The goal there is to provide assorted services to an unspecified number of customers in a shop on a corner for seven hundred thirty yen an hour.”

I’m not sure if that’s a good wage or not, but it’s not like Asahina is dressing up to serve in a mansion or work some part-time job. Maybe if Haruhi actually paid her.

“Don’t sweat the small stuff! It’s all about feeling. I like how this feels.”

Who cares about you? How does Asahina feel about this?

“Su-Su-Suzumiya… This seems a little too small for me….”

Asahina seemed quite concerned. She was incessantly tugging downward on the hem of her miniskirt. But her motions were too tantalizing. You realize that my eyes can’t help but be drawn there, right?

“It’s just fine. A perfect fit.”

I forced myself to look away and focused instead on Haruhi smiling like a colorful flower blooming in the jungle. Haruhi directed her eyes, always looking forward, at me.

“The concept for our film”—she pointed to Asahina, curled up in a fetal position—“is this!”

“This? Are we doing a documentary on the daily life of a girl working in a café?”

“No. There isn’t anything fun about taking secret videos of Mikuru’s daily life. The only way you could ever get an interesting story out of filming someone’s daily life would be if it was about a person living an extremely eccentric life. Filming the daily life of an ordinary high school student would only be for self-satisfaction.”

I fail to see how that would satisfy Asahina, and from an objective point of view, I’d think that self-satisfaction would be important in itself. Besides, Asahina’s daily life would actually be considered quite eccentric… but I’ll keep my mouth shut.

“As the director representing the SOS Brigade, I decided to provide quality entertainment. Just you watch. Every single member of the audience will be on their feet in a standing ovation!”

Upon closer look, I noticed that Haruhi’s armband had changed from Chief to Director at some point. She sure was prepared.

As I watched the female director getting excited by herself, the female lead getting depressed, and the male lead standing back smiling enigmatically like a bystander, I was wondering what exactly was going on. Then the door opened without a sound.

“…”

I thought something big had come to make an appearance. Scared for a moment there that they’d come to retrieve me from my rather short life. It almost made me wonder if I hadn’t accidentally stepped into the music room from the movie where Salieri goes to Mozart to commission a requiem.

“…”

As she delivered her signature ellipsis, Yuki Nagato entered the room with a paler face than usual. Only her face was visible. Everything else was covered in black.

I wasn’t the only one at a loss for words. Haruhi and Asahina were the same. Koizumi’s smile had a hint of surprise tacked on like a tax. Nagato was garbed in clothing strange enough to startle Asahina.

Her body was wrapped in a mantle as dark as a blackout. Her head was covered by a wide-brimmed pointy hat of the same color. She looked like a vampire hunter. Or maybe the Grim Reaper.

As we watched, Nagato silently headed to her designated seat in the corner, withdrew her bag and a hardcover book from under her mantle, and set them on the table.

And—completely ignoring our shock—she began reading her book.

Apparently, it was the costume for her class’s fortune-telling convention.

That’s what I gathered from Nagato’s short responses to Haruhi, who was the first one to recover and issue a rapid string of questions. Nagato’s class must have had an extremely resourceful and talented stylist to make Nagato wear such a jolly costume.

In any case, if she walked here from her classroom in this monk-like getup, did it mean this was supposed to be Nagato’s way of competing with Asahina? She made guessing what Haruhi was thinking look easy.

An unpleasant silence hung over the room. Only Haruhi looked like she was really happy.

“Yuki, now you understand! Yes, that’s it!”

Nagato slowly turned to look at Haruhi before returning to her book.

“That costume is perfect for the role I had in mind! Let the people who put you in that know later. I want to wire them a message to show my appreciation.”

Don’t. If someone were to receive a message of congratulations from Haruhi, that person would probably suspect some kind of catch and end up being scared of his own shadow. You need to take an objective look at how other people view you.

Haruhi looked to be in high spirits as she hummed the Turkish March while opening her bag and withdrawing a stack of photocopy sheets. She quickly passed them out, looking like Kintaro after wrestling down a black bear.

Not having much choice, I turned my eyes to the sheet of paper.

The following passage was scribbled across the page:

“COMBAT WAITRESS:

THE ADVENTURES OF MIKURU ASAHINA” (TENTATIVE)

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

MIKURU ASAHINA: COMBAT WAITRESS FROM THE FUTURE

ITSUKI KOIZUMI: BOY ESPER

YUKI NAGATO: EVIL ALIEN

EXTRAS: PASSERSBY

… Yeah, that’s just. Yeah.

Has her level of intuition transcended mere disbelief? Or did she hit the mark without even trying? I’m starting to wonder if she’s just feigning ignorance. What’s with her sharp senses that only work at odd intervals?

As I stood stunned, I was brought back to the real world by the sound of chuckling next to me. The only person with that kind of laugh would be Koizumi.

“Well, this is quite…”

I envy how you seem to be enjoying yourself.

“What should I say? Just as one would expect? Indeed, the casting seems quite appropriate for Suzumiya. It’s wonderful.”

Don’t smile at me. It creeps me out.

Asahina was reading the sheet of paper clutched in her slender, violently trembling hands.

“Wha…”

A soft cry escaped from her mouth. She turned to me with eyes seeking salvation. Except upon a closer look, her eyes seemed very sad, even reproachful. Like a kind, slightly older female relative scolding a young child whose prank had gone too far…. Oh. I remembered. That’s right. After the incident six months earlier, I’d revealed their true identities to Haruhi.

Gah. Crap. Is this my fault?

I frantically spun to look at Nagato, the human-contact-purpose humanoid interface clad in a black mantle and black hat.

“…”

She was silently reading her book.

“I see no problems of consequence,” Koizumi later asserted optimistically.

I failed to see the humor in this situation.

“While these circumstances may not invite humor, there is no need for pessimism.”

“How do you know?”

“For the simple reason that this is merely casting for a movie. Suzumiya does not actually believe that I am a boy esper. I only play the role of a boy esper named Itsuki Koizumi within the fictional context of the movie.”

Koizumi sounded like a tutor talking to a pupil with a really bad memory.

“You can say that the Itsuki Koizumi that exists in reality, myself, and this particular Itsuki are entirely different people. Nobody would confuse a character in a movie with the actor playing the role, right? Even if someone out there were to get the two mixed up, that person would not necessarily be Suzumiya.”

“That’s not very reassuring. There’s no guarantee that what you’re saying is right.”

“If she were for mixing reality and fiction, then our world would have become the stuff of fantasy long ago. As I mentioned before, Suzumiya is still a person who can think rationally.”

I know that. But since Haruhi’s rational reasoning is half-possessed, I’ve been dragged into many bizarre incidents. And Haruhi, the key to all of this, doesn’t have a clue about what’s happening around her.

“For we must not allow her to discover any evidence of what is happening,” Koizumi continued calmly. “There may come a time when we have no choice but to reveal the truth. But not now. Fortunately, Asahina’s faction and Nagato’s faction are of the same opinion. I would prefer that the current situation never change.”

So would I. I don’t want to watch the world turn into a huge mess. That can’t happen until I’ve beaten the game that comes out next week or I’ll have lingering regrets.

Koizumi was still smiling. “You should worry less about the world and be more concerned about your own safety. Nagato and I can probably be replaced, but you have no understudy.”

I took care not to let these feelings of frustration affect me and pretended to be engrossed in pressurizing the gun I now had back in my hands.

Haruhi called it a day after assigning Asahina her costume and announcing the cast. Actually, she apparently wanted to drag Asahina around in her waitress outfit and hold a press conference for the upcoming film, but since Asahina was seriously on the verge of tears, I made Haruhi give up on that idea. It’s not like this high school has a journalism club, news club, or advertising club to begin with. Once I brought that up, Haruhi’s lips pouted into waterfowl status.

“I suppose you’re right.”

Amazingly enough, she agreed.

“It’s better to keep the details under wraps until the very last second. Kyon, that’s rather clever of you. We can’t have people ripping us off.”

This idea isn’t exactly at the level of a Hollywood or Hong Kong film. Who would want a storyboard that’s still bubbling in your mind?

“So, Kyon, have the gun ready for use within the day. Filming starts tomorrow. You also need to learn how to use the camera. Ah, that’s right. You’ll need to move the video data from the camera to the computer and do the editing, so pirate the necessary software. Also…”

And once Haruhi had finished dumping a load of assignments on me, she left while humming the theme from The Great Escape.

Didn’t matter if she was in a good mood or a bad mood, she was always causing trouble for other people. Honestly.

Which was why I was currently face-to-face with another guy, Koizumi, struggling to make the model gun shoot BBs with reference to the instruction manual.

Once Asahina finished changing, she left with sagging shoulders. Nagato, still dressed like a witch invited to a Sabbath, went off somewhere without her bag. I guess Nagato had only come to show us her costume. Based on her record, there may have been some kind of significance in that action. Or she was just showing her face in the club room. She’s probably doing something in her classroom at this moment. Like practicing fortune-telling with a crystal ball or whatever.

I got the impression that the level of commotion in the school was slightly increasing on a day-to-day basis. Each time I heard the wind ensemble practicing after school, the crappy horns made fewer mistakes. There were also people cutting up veneer and balsa wood in the shadows of the courtyard. And a growing number of people were dressed in odd costumes like Nagato’s.

But this was just a festival at a plain old prefectural high school. I expected a cultural festival without anything extreme or out of the ordinary. As far as I could see, maybe half the student body hadn’t given up on working hard to make this a fun festival. Incidentally, our class, 1-5, had just given up on having fun, period. The ones who weren’t in a cultural club would probably be really bored that day. And here we had two people who could easily represent the go-straight-home-after-school club, Taniguchi and Kunikida.

“Speaking of cultural festivals…,” Taniguchi said.

It was lunchtime. These two-bit characters and I were surrounded by box lunches.

“Speaking of cultural festivals?” Kunikida shot back.

Taniguchi had a sickening smirk on his face that couldn’t hold a candle to the refined Koizumi smile. “It’s a super-event.”

“Don’t talk like Haruhi.”

Taniguchi’s smirk was abruptly wiped from his face. “But it’s got nothing to do with me. It pisses me off.”

“Why?” Kunikida asked.

“The sight of people having fun when I’m not really annoys me. Especially if it’s a boy-girl couple. Gives me homicidal urges. What? Got a problem with that?”

I suppose this is what you would call blind rage.

“And what’s with our class? A survey? Ha! Bo-ring. It’ll probably just involve asking people what their favorite color is, right? Where’s the fun in gathering that information?”

Then why didn’t you throw out your brilliant idea? That might have prevented Haruhi from mentioning anything about movies.

Taniguchi swallowed a lunch wiener in one gulp. “I never say anything that will give me work to do. Well, I might say something, but I don’t want to end up being put in charge of the mess.”

Kunikida voiced his agreement as he took a break from cutting his rolled omelet. “The only people who are going to raise their hands and open their mouths in this situation are those who are easily influenced or have a strong sense of responsibility. If only Asakura were still here.”

He threw out the name of our former classmate who had moved to Canada. I break into a cold sweat every time I hear her name. Nagato may have been the one who erased Asakura, but I was the reason it happened. Of course, if Nagato hadn’t done anything, I would have been erased, so there isn’t any point in feeling bad about it.

“Yeah, that was a waste,” Taniguchi said. “Just had to be my A-plus who transferred. I’m really down on my luck. She was the only good thing about being in this class. Damn. Wonder if they’ll let me change classes at this point.”

“Which class would you want?” Kunikida asked. “Nagato’s class? Oh, speaking of which, I saw her walking around in some kind of wizard getup yesterday. What’s up with that?”

Beats me. I sure don’t know.

“Nagato, huh…” Taniguchi turned to me with a look on his face like he’d just found out about a pop quiz in math. He sounded like he had just remembered something.

“When was that again? That time the two of you were all tangled up in the classroom. That was probably just something scripted by Suzumiya. Probably some kind of scheme to surprise me, right? Ain’t happening.”

I was feeling rather relieved that he’d arbitrarily misunderstood the whole affair… Wait, didn’t you come back to the classroom to get something you’d forgotten? How could we have possibly known that you would show up—but naturally, I didn’t voice this sentiment. Taniguchi was an idiot. Telling an idiot he was an idiot served no purpose. Good thing he was an idiot. I should be thankful.

“At any rate, this sure is boring,” Taniguchi lamented while Kunikida concentrated on his box lunch. I looked behind me. Haruhi’s desk was empty. Well now. I wondered where Haruhi was marching at that moment.

“I was looking for a good filming location around school,” Haruhi told me. “But I totally couldn’t find one. I suppose we won’t be able to shoot it around here after all. Let’s head out.”

Maybe she didn’t like the school atmosphere. But the fact that there wasn’t an exciting spot around was no reason to expend effort on an expedition in search of pizzazz. Apparently, her goal was to turn this into some kind of fiasco.

“Huh… A-am I going too?” Asahina voiced her query in a mournful tone.

“Of course. We can’t do anything without the star.”

“I-i-in these clothes?”

Asahina was balled up, trembling, in the waitress costume Haruhi brought yesterday.

“Yep, that’s right.” Haruhi nodded readily.

Asahina hugged herself with a reluctant look on her face.

“Isn’t it a pain to keep getting changed? Besides, there might not even be a place for you to change there. So you might as well just wear it the whole time, right? Right? Come on, let’s go! Everybody!”

“At least let me wear something over it….”

Asahina’s plea was met with…

“No.”

“But it’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s only embarrassing if you let yourself feel that way! You’ll never win a Golden Globe like that!”

Weren’t we trying to win first place in the cultural festival best-event poll?

All of the brigade members were assembled in the club room. Koizumi had apparently settled the issues with the script for his class’s play and was currently watching Haruhi and Asahina’s one-sided exchange. Nagato was also there. And there was a little problem involving Nagato.

“…”

She was always silent, so I didn’t really have any comments regarding that. But she was dressed rather oddly. For some reason, she was once again wearing the witch outfit she had shown us yesterday. You only need to wear it on the day of the festival. Why are you already on standby in the costume?

Haruhi was apparently quite pleased with Nagato’s black mantle and pointy hat.

“I’ll change your character to an evil alien magician!”

And she was already changing the script. Haruhi looked quite satisfied with Nagato holding the antenna-like pointer with what looked like a star off a Christmas tree attached to the tip. As I watched Nagato gripping the wand, I was finding it hard to argue against the closemouthed book lover being an extraterrestrial evil magician. Seemed to fit her character a lot more than being a terminal for data life forms. She definitely possessed magic-like powers. I’d seen it myself. No doubt about it.

Nagato unexpectedly raised the brim of her hat and looked at me with her usual lifeless eyes.

“…”

I doubted that it would be okay for Haruhi to arbitrarily use some other class’s costume in her movie, but her eyes were utterly devoid of hesitation.

“Kyon! Get the camera ready! Koizumi, you carry the stuff over there. Mikuru, why are you clinging to the desk? Come on, get a move on!”

Asahina’s feeble resistance lasted only a moment. Haruhi grabbed the weak waitress by the collar and dragged the squealing little girl to the door. Nagato followed with the hem of her mantle dragging on the floor. Koizumi was the last to disappear into the hallway after winking at me.

As I was wondering if I would have to go with them…

“Hey! We can’t go film a movie without the cameraman!”

Haruhi’s torso stuck through the open door. Her open mouth took up about half of her face as she shouted. I noticed that the band on Haruhi’s left arm now read Great Director, which only served to depress me.

Looks like she’s serious.

The self-proclaimed great director who had yet to film a movie led the way as the beautiful waitress followed with her eyes glued to the ground. The dark-clad witch trailed behind like a shadow. Koizumi carried the paper bag with an easy smile on his face. And I brought up the end, trying to put as much space as possible between me and the band of weirdos. We had already managed to become the center of attention while moving around campus, but this procession that resembled a Halloween party was doing a fine job of attracting interest off campus. Asahina, already the focus of much attention at school, was currently looking down twenty percent of the time, blushing thirty percent of the time, and dragging her feet like a robot fifty percent of the time.

Haruhi was cheerfully humming the melody of the Heaven and Hell theme like an impending disaster was on the horizon. No idea where they came from, but she was energetically carrying a yellow megaphone in her right hand and a director’s chair in her left, like Mongolian cavalry riding west across the plains. As I wondered where she was planning on making her assault, we arrived at the station. Haruhi bought tickets for all of us and handed them out. She then advanced toward the ticket gate with a prosaic look on her face.

“Wait.”

I objected in Asahina’s stead, seeing as how she had lost her ability to speak. I pointed to the miniskirted waitress drawing inquisitive glances from every direction and the vertically challenged girl dressed in black standing next to her like an attendant.