They sure seemed to be having fun—Koizumi and Haruhi, and maybe Asahina too.

As we walked, Koizumi casually drew alongside me and whispered significantly into my ear.

“You certainly do have some mysterious friends.”

I waited for him to say more, but he only smiled and went back to his role as tour guide.

Nakagawa was mysterious? Maybe. One thing was certain—no ordinary person would take one look at Nagato and be instantly struck down with love.

As we made our way to the bus station, something felt amiss about it all.

I had a bad feeling about this.

After half an hour of bouncing along on a private bus, it was a few minutes’ walk from the bus stop to Nakagawa’s school. When we got there, the game had already started.

Thanks to my oversleeping, we’d missed two earlier buses, and it was now fifteen minutes past the start time Nakagawa had given me.

It didn’t seem like we could enter the school grounds, so we walked alongside it until coming to a field enclosed by a chain-link fence, which was where the football scrimmage was being held.

“Wow, it’s such a big field.”

Asahina gave voice to her wonder, and I had to nod. Unlike North High’s grounds, dug forcibly out of the hillside, the flat, expansive field of this private boys’ school spoke of money. The place where we were standing was roughly one floor higher than the level of the field, which gave us an excellent view. Aside from us five, there seemed to be a few old guys passing by and some girls who seemed to be groupies, cheering on the two private schools’ teams.

The sound of colliding uniforms and helmets in blue and white reached our ears, and we five lined up in an empty spot to watch.

Nagato was silent and betrayed no reaction.

Even now.

I had only a casual understanding of the rules of football. After our mostly effortless victory in the baseball tournament, Haruhi had brought in forms for participation in the football and soccer tournaments. We wound up not participating in either (after much hassle), but just in case, I’d gone and looked up the basics. It seemed simple but was actually quite deep—not impossibly so, but hardly something a club like ours could just pick up and do, I could tell.

Watching from here, I could tell that my decision had been a correct one.

The offense carried an oblong ball similar to a rugby ball and tried to advance down the field by passing and running with it, while the defense tried to stop that advance by chasing down the guy with the ball, their protective gear clattering loudly whenever they collided with one another.

It definitely felt like an American sport.

“Huh.”

Haruhi clung to the chain-link fence and watched the clump of players.

“So which one is Nakagawa?”

“Number eighty-two on the white team.”

I explained according to what Nakagawa had told me the previous day. Nakagawa was a tight end, which meant he was at the edge of the offensive line, responsible for both blocking and catching passes. Nakagawa was quick despite his bulk, so it was the perfect spot for him.

“Wait—why are the players trading places? They look the same.”

“There are offensive players and defensive players. Nakagawa’s on offense.”

“Since everybody’s wearing helmets, I’m sure they’re allowed to head-butt, but how far does it go? Only judo throws? Or does anything go?”

“None of that. No head-butting either,” I said.

“Huh.”

Haruhi gazed at the field intently. North High didn’t have a football team, but if it did, there was no question she’d try to get on and wreak havoc. And with her speed and blind energy, she might even have been a worthwhile player.

“It sure is an exciting sport! Perfect for winter.”

I listened to Haruhi’s commentary and took a look at Nagato, who was following the ball, evidently not thinking about anything in particular.

The five of us stood there and watched private school boys smash into one another for a while.

“Um, would anyone like some tea?”

Asahina took a thermos and some paper cups out of her bag.

“I thought it would be cold, so I brought something warm to drink.”

The smiling Asahina might as well have been an angel. I thankfully accepted her tea. I had only been getting colder as we stood out there beneath the chilly sky, watching the game.

There we watched the two teams play football, sipping Asahina’s delicious hand-brewed tea.

The second quarter came to a desultory end as we sat there and watched; it was now halftime. The white uniforms of Nakagawa and his teammates coalesced at the opposite end of the field from us, where a tough-looking older guy started chewing them out. It was hard to make out faces from that distance, but I did catch occasional glimpses of jersey number eighty-two.

As for the game, it wasn’t anything special. There were no long, showy passes or thirty-yard runs; each team just kept creeping along with first downs, and the score represented only the handful of field goals they’d managed; there hadn’t been any touch-downs. That might have meant they were evenly matched and that the defenses were both working hard.

However, I do know a certain someone who hates it when things get boring, and her name is Haruhi Suzumiya.

“This isn’t much fun at all,” she said.

Haruhi stomped her feet as she frowned. She wasn’t the only one whose breath was coming out white either.

“At least the players get to run around.” Haruhi wrapped her arms around herself. “But we’re just standing here getting cold. Is there a café around here somewhere?”

The picnic mood seemed to have been blown away by the chilly winter wind. Asahina did not have an infinite amount of tea, and we’d long since run out. And even when we’d had it, the last half had gone cold before we could finish it, irrespective of the amount of love she’d made it with, so it wasn’t much good for warming up. Even worse, today marked the arrival of the coldest cold front of the winter, and Haruhi wasn’t the only one whose teeth were chattering from the chill; Koizumi, Asahina, and I were right there with her. The only one who didn’t seem to mind was Nagato, who never seemed to care what the temperature was.

“I guess it’s really no fun unless you’re playing. Maybe I should get them to let me join the game. I bet I could throw that ball.”

Haruhi squinted her eyes in the face of the wind that tried to rob her of body heat.

“And if I don’t do something like that, I’m just gonna freeze here. Kyon, do you have anything? Like hand warmers?”

If I had, I would’ve been using them myself. If she wanted to warm herself up that badly, she could’ve run laps around the school grounds or played Red Rover. That made the most economic and environmental sense.

“Hmph. Fine then, I’ve got a perfectly nice hand warmer right here. Human-size too!”

Haruhi slowly came up behind Asahina and embraced her, wrapping her arms around the poor girl’s delicate neck.

“Wha—what’re you—?”

Asahina was unsurprisingly dismayed.

“Ooh, Mikuru, you’re so warm! And soft too!”

Haruhi buried her chin in the unsullied snowlike fur of Asahina’s collar, embracing the petite (and occasionally abundant) figure of her upperclassman.

“I think I’ll stay like this awhile. Hee hee, are you jealous, Kyon?”

You’re damn right I was. Although if I had my choice, I would’ve wanted to hug her from the front.

“Hmm?”

Haruhi pursed her lips.

“Wh—”

She cut herself off, then took a breath.

“So, with Mikuru, then?”

I looked back and forth between Haruhi’s mischievous face and Asahina’s terrified eyes as the former held her embrace on the latter, and I tried to think of a way to answer. From behind me, my rescue appeared.

“Would you like to play Red Rover with me, then?”

Butting into the conversation, the disgusting Koizumi smiled disgustingly.

“I wouldn’t mind going for a jog, but I’d also be just fine wrestling around with another man.”

Well, I wasn’t fine. I’ve said it before, but I don’t bat for that team. Koizumi should’ve stuck to giving football commentary. This was all about me, Nagato, and Nakagawa, anyway—Koizumi was just a bonus. In fact, given the circumstances, Asahina and Haruhi were bonuses too.

I gave him a sidelong glare.

“I couldn’t care less.”

The central character for the day—Nagato—was as silent as always, unmoving as she watched the field. I got the feeling she was following Nakagawa with her eyes, but there was no way to know for sure.

Meanwhile, Nakagawa never once looked our way, whether he was moving around the field as part of the offensive line or sitting on the sidelines. I’d gone to all the trouble of bringing Nagato out here and now—nothing? Even now, during halftime, he was gathered with his teammates in a circle as they had a serious-seeming meeting. Had his desire for victory won out over all other considerations?

Or was this all on purpose? If the things he’d said were true, he’d been struck completely dumb upon seeing Nagato from a distance. I’d thought that had to be an exaggeration, but if it were true, he definitely wouldn’t want to be stricken thusly during the game.

“Eh, whatever,” I muttered, looking at the back of Nagato’s head as the wind brushed the nape of her neck.

I guessed we could meet up with Nakagawa once the game was over and he came out of the school. If the second half ended smoothly, Nakagawa’s team would win and he’d be free.

The previous day, Nagato had said she wouldn’t mind seeing him, so having them meet up wouldn’t bother anybody. Truth be told, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but that didn’t mean I was so callous as to mercilessly crush somebody else’s hopes and dreams. I could hear a guy out, after all.

And yet.

Unfortunately, things did not go smoothly. The whistle signaling the resumption of play had blown, and we were about five minutes into the third quarter when—

Nakagawa was taken away in an ambulance.

Allow me to describe the circumstances of his injury. It went something like this.

The second half began with the opposing team’s kickoff. The returner got tackled at his own twenty-yard line, whereupon it was time for Nakagawa’s team to take the offense.

The teams lined up and hunched down at the line of scrimmage; Nakagawa was at the far edge. In the center, the white-uniformed quarterback seemed to call out some kind of signal to his left and right. At the signal, Nakagawa moved sideways along the line. At the same time, the quarterback received the ball and took two or three steps back as the tackles and linebackers of the defense came rushing forward like wild beasts.

Nakagawa sprinted, heading to the inside—he then turned and moved as though he were receiving a pass. But it was a fake—the quarterback flicked his wrist and sent the ball past Nakagawa to the wide receiver.

“Oh—!”

I wasn’t sure whether Haruhi or Asahina had raised her voice in surprise.

The ball spun like a bullet shot from a rifle, but the trajectory was a bit off. An opposing linebacker made a desperate jump but couldn’t quite manage the interception. Nakagawa’s team narrowly avoided a turnover as the ball brushed his fingers, but that was enough to perturb its path.

Just then—

I saw Nagato, up until that point as still as a bodhisattva’s statue, move her hand.

“…”

She drew her hood over her head, tugging it down a bit to obscure her line of sight. But from what of her face I could still see, I could tell that her lips were moving.

“—”

She was definitely muttering something—and fast too.

I only caught it out of the corner of my eye, since my attention was on the field.

“Whoa—”

I leaned forward, eyes widening.

I thought the ball had only been deflected slightly, but then I realized that its destination was the place where Nakagawa was currently dashing to at top speed. I saw him make a perfect leap, grab the ball in midair, and try to make a stable landing—

—but no.

Just as Nakagawa jumped, the cornerback who had been covering him also jumped. His goal was the same ball that every player prized nearly as much as his own life.

The cornerback had taken his broad jump just as Nakagawa was reaching the ball. As humans do not possess the wings they would need to change direction in midair, the player’s energy dropped to zero as he collided with the falling Nakagawa. Given that both players bounced off of and away from each other, you can imagine how intense the impact was.

The opposing cornerback spun ninety degrees and fell onto his back, while the defenseless Nakagawa rotated a full half turn, landing perfectly vertical on his head.

“Eek!”

Asahina cried out in concern.

I yelled too. Nakagawa had clearly landed in the worst possible way for a human being to land—like a pro wrestler who receives a Tombstone Piledriver or Sukekiyo in The Inugami Clan. But at least wrestlers had the mat, and Sukekiyo had the swamp. All Nakagawa had under him was the hard, cold earth.

Lagging just behind the sight came the sound—a sound nobody ever wants to hear.

Thok!

If he was lucky, that dull crack was the sound of his helmet splitting—otherwise it was his skull.

The referee blew his whistle and stopped the game. Nakagawa lay still. He’d stopped moving, clinging to the ball as though it were some precious memento from his parents—no, he hadn’t moved at all. This wasn’t even funny anymore.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Haruhi clung to the fence, her brow furrowed.

“Eek—”

Asahina half hid herself behind Haruhi’s shoulder, as though turning away from a violent scene in a horror movie.

“Oh… there’s the stretcher…” she said, her voice tremulous.

Surrounded by his teammates, Nakagawa’s prone form was quickly moved to the stretcher and taken to the sidelines. His determination admirable, he still clung to the ball. The scene was so moving, it would be unbelievable if his team didn’t now rally and defeat their opponents.

Lying there on the stretcher with his helmet removed, Nakagawa seemed to have dodged the bullet. He opened his eyes in response to the calls of the people around him, nodding to answer their questions. He tried to sit up, only collapsed back down, but at the very least he was still breathing.

“Probably a minor concussion.”

Koizumi made his diagnosis.

“I doubt there’s much to worry about. These things happen in sports like this.”

I didn’t know where he got off making that call from a distance, and not being a doctor to begin with. Hopefully he was right, but the head is a bad place to take an impact. The coach and faculty advisor seemed just as concerned as I was, and soon the wailing siren of an ambulance approached.

“Your friend has rotten luck,” said Haruhi, sounding regretful. “He tries to show off to Yuki and gets injured instead. Maybe he got too eager.”

She sounded sympathetic. Did she really want Nakagawa and Nagato to hit it off? Even though she’d slammed the door in the computer club president’s face when he’d wanted to borrow Nagato?

I asked her as much, to which she replied, “Listen, Kyon. I think that love is a kind of disease, but I’m not going to interfere in other people’s love lives just for kicks. Everybody has their own path to happiness.”

I shrugged, letting Haruhi’s overlong philosophy of romance go in one ear and out the other. Sorry—if Asahina’s boyfriend turned out to be a loser, I don’t care how happy she seemed, I wasn’t confident I’d be able to be happy for her. I might even try to interfere. I don’t think anybody could blame me, though.

“I hope your friend is all right.”

Asahina clasped her hands together in front of her fluffy fur coat, an expression of true concern on her face. She definitely wasn’t faking it. That’s just the kind of person she was. Her prayers could heal you in half an hour even if every bone in your body was broken. I was sure Nakagawa would be fine.

The ambulance finally arrived, and Nakagawa was loaded into it, as carefully as though he were a cardboard box marked FRAGILE—HANDLE WITH CARE.

As soon as he was inside the ambulance and the doors were shut behind him, the siren blared back to life, the almost painfully bright flashing lights winking red as it headed off into the distance.

“…”

Nagato had been at least 50 percent less voluble than even she normally was, and she watched the ambulance go, as though trying to confirm the existence of redshift with her own dark eyes.

So, what next?

Nakagawa’s demonstration was unavoidably canceled thanks to his withdrawal, but with his departure went our desire to watch the rest of the scrimmage. It was freezing cold, after all, and our primary reason for standing here would soon be arriving at the hospital.

“Shouldn’t we go to the hospital too?”

Haruhi spoke suddenly.

“He was our whole reason for coming, and that’s where he’s going, so if we follow him, we can see how this turns out. It’ll be a great scene, with the worried Yuki going to visit him at his bedside! I’ll bet he’d be really moved. Plus, the hospital will be heated. Whaddaya think?”

She obviously thought it was a grand idea, but I didn’t really feel like entering a hospital for a while. I’ve been sustaining trauma ever since meeting Haruhi.

“Aren’t you worried about your friend? Let me tell you, when you got taken away in an ambulance, I definitely worried about you. You know, a certain amount.”

Haruhi dragged me along by the arm, her tone brusque.

“Honestly, you caused so much trouble.”

She walked a few steps with me, then stopped.

“By the way, which hospital did that ambulance go to?”

How the hell was I supposed to know?

“I’ll look into it,” said Koizumi, brandishing his cell phone with a smile. “This will just take a moment.”

Koizumi turned his back to us and walked a few steps away, then pushed a button on his phone and had a quiet exchange with whomever he’d called. Maybe a minute later, he flipped his phone closed, then turned back to us and smiled.

“I’ve found his destination.”

I didn’t know who he’d called, but I’d bet it wasn’t 911.

“It’s a hospital we know quite well. I doubt I need to tell you how to get there.”

A wave of memory hit me, my mind recalling the white of the sheets and the red of the apples. Koizumi smiled at me.

“Yes, that’s the one. The general hospital you were taken to not so long ago.”

As in, the one where his uncle’s friend was the director. I glared at Koizumi. This had better be a coincidence.

“It’s a coincidence.”

Koizumi chuckled as he saw my thousand-yard stare.

“No, it really is. Quite unexpected. Honestly, I’m quite surprised myself.”

I didn’t trust him anyway, so his trustworthy smile was wasted on me.

“All right, let’s go to the hospital. Can we get a cab somewhere? With five of us, we can split the fare and it’ll be cheap.” Haruhi immediately started lining things up.

“Suzumiya, I was thinking that we should have a meeting regarding the upcoming trip to the mountains. We’ll leave the hospital visit to these two, while you, Asahina, and I nail down the details of the trip. We haven’t sorted out things like luggage, precise dates, and so on, and we need to finalize these details.”

Haruhi wobbled midstep at Koizumi’s statement. “Oh, really?”

“Yes,” said Koizumi, continuing. “New Year’s Eve is right around the corner. A holiday in a snowy mountain lodge is a big event. Honestly, I’d planned to hold the SOS Brigade’s winter trip meeting today, but some unexpected things came up.”

Well, excuse me, I said.

“Not at all. But in exchange, I’ll leave Nagato in your hands. You should hurry to the hospital and check in on Mr. Nakagawa. Regarding what to do there, I’ll leave that to your discretion. Asahina, Suzumiya, and I will be in our usual café. Will that do, Suzumiya?”

Haruhi pursed her lips and frowned.

“Mmm, I guess so. There’s definitely no point in me going to the hospital. Kyon’s friend only cares about Yuki.”

She looked a little irritated, though.

“All right, Kyon. You go with Yuki to see your friend. If he can write a love letter like that, he’ll probably jump right out of the hospital bed after he sees Yuki for five seconds.”

But then she pointed at me harshly.

“But! You’d better tell me everything that happens! Got that?” she said with a half-angry, half-amused expression.

We took a bus back to our rendezvous point, then split into two groups to go our separate ways—Nagato and I would change buses to head to the hospital, while Haruhi and the rest would continue to be regulars at the nearby café.

Nagato never looked back, so I was determined to. I saw Haruhi and the others watching us go, with Haruhi making some kind of strange gestures as she walked. Not wanting to imagine what her body language was suggesting, I soon looked to my companion, bundled up in her duffle coat.

So, then.

I’ll put it simply. Worries encrusted my mind like barnacles. I was worried enough about Nakagawa, who’d gotten injured just as he was trying to impress Nagato, but I was even more concerned about what Koizumi had said: “You certainly do have some mysterious friends.” The “mysterious” part especially bothered me. I didn’t have any friends who were particularly exceptional, and if I had to pick one, it would be Koizumi himself. What was it about Nakagawa that he thought was so “mysterious”?

And then there was the strange incantation that Nagato had been chanting. Nakagawa’s accident had happened immediately afterward, and even the dumbest person imaginable would be able to put the two events together, given the pattern so far. Yes, Nagato was quite an artist, if she could turn me into an ace reliever capable of striking out three consecutive batters.

“…”

Her face buried within the hood of her coat, Nagato said nothing—but the answer would soon be revealed.

Upon asking at the reception desk, we learned that Nakagawa had already been examined and treated, and he was now resting in a hospital room. Though not serious, his injuries apparently required observation. I headed to the room number we were given, Nagato trailing behind me like a ghost.

Hardly a “hospital room.” We found Nakagawa in a six-person ward.

“Nakagawa, you doing okay?”

“Hey, Kyon.”

My former classmate wore a blue hospital gown and lay there on the bed. He didn’t look especially injured with his close-cropped jock haircut. He sat up like a panda awoken from a nap.

“You’ve got great timing. They just finished examining me. I’m gonna stay the night for observation. I kinda tweaked my neck and got a concussion when I fell, which is why I felt like I wanted to throw up. I called my coach and told him I’d be out tomorrow, so he didn’t have to come visit—”

As he was talking, he noticed the ghost standing behind me. His eyes widened.

“Is that… could it be…?”

It was indeed.

“This is Nagato. Yuki Nagato. I brought her along to cheer you up.”

“Aaahh—!”

Nakagawa suddenly straightened his sturdy frame, sitting bolt upright. Well, aren’t you feeling healthy? I thought. Apparently his head was well enough.

“I’m Nakagawa!” he shouted by way of self-introduction. “ ‘Naka’ as in ‘Chuya Nakahara,’ and ‘kawa’ as in the Yellow River! Humbly at your service!” He sounded like a rural daimyo at his first audience with the shogun.

“Yuki Nagato.” She gave her name, her voice unmoved. She hadn’t bothered to take off her duffle coat or even to pull back the hood. Unable to watch any longer, I flipped back the hood. We’d come all the way out here to meet him—it would’ve been a waste if he never got a proper look at her face.

The silent Nagato just stared at Nakagawa. After about ten seconds, he finally cracked.

“Huh? Um…”

Nakagawa’s expression turned somehow dubious.

“You’re Nagato… right?”

“Yes,” said Nagato.

“The one who was walking with Kyon this spring…”

“Yes.”

“At the supermarket near the station?”

“Yes.”

“I… I see…”

Nakagawa’s face darkened. I had expected him to cry tears of joy or faint dead away, so what was this sudden unpleasantness?

Nagato looked at Nakagawa as though he were a motionless flatfish in an aquarium, while Nakagawa regarded her as he would a manhole cover in the middle of the street.

Such a staring match can only go on so long, and sure enough, the first to turn away was Nakagawa.

“… Kyon.”

He tried to speak quietly, but all the other patients in the ward would have easily heard. But he was gesturing with his finger to quietly call me closer, and I couldn’t very well ignore him.

“What?”

“Listen, uh… we need to talk. About… y’know…”

I could see him constantly glancing over at Nagato. Evidently he wanted to ask something about her.

I looked over at Nagato to confirm.

“Yeah,” he said.

Despite the lack of telepathy, Nagato turned around and walked out of the room as though carried by a conveyor belt.

Once he saw Nagato slide the door shut behind her, Nakagawa sighed in relief.

“Is she… really Nagato? The real one?”

I’d never seen a fake Nagato, that was for sure. I’d seen her act rather differently sometimes, but that was ancient history.

“Hey, be happier,” I said. “Your future bride came to visit you—can’t you show a little gratitude?”

“Uh… yeah…”

Nakagawa muttered and nodded.

“That… that was Nagato. Not a twin sister or a look-alike.”

What was he trying to say? Don’t tell me you need her to wear glasses, I told him. Hadn’t he bumped into her recently? She quit wearing them at my request, so if he had a glasses fetish, I didn’t want to hear about it.

“No, that’s not it.”

Nakagawa looked up at me with a pained expression.

“I can’t explain it… just give me a second to think, Kyon. I’m really sorry…”

He just sat there on his hospital bed, groaning. Had that blow to the head really messed something up, after all? His reactions were incomprehensible. No matter what I said to him, he just groaned and looked up at the ceiling, as though deep in thought. Eventually he even clutched his head as though in pain. I gave up and decided to leave.

“Nakagawa, I’m gonna want to hear a reason for this eventually. What am I going to tell her?”

My report to Haruhi was going to be pointless too. If I told her the truth now, a flinty-eyed glare would be all that greeted me.

I left the hospital room, where Nagato was leaning against the hallway’s wall, waiting for me. She turned her dark eyes to me for a moment, then looked back at the floor.

“Let’s go.”

Nagato gave a slight nod, then fell in step behind me.

Just what the hell was that all about?

I stalked tiger-beetle-like ahead of the quiet Nagato, heading for the bus terminal.

The scene that followed at the café barely merits explanation. Haruhi talked merrily away about her plans for the winter vacation, while Koizumi mechanically agreed with her. Asahina seemed to be enjoying her Darjeeling tea as she sipped it, while I sat there, discouraged, and Nagato played the role of silent listener as she watched the proceedings.

We split the bill, and today’s SOS Brigade activities came to an end. When I went home, I was greeted by this:

“Oh, Kyon! Perfect timing—there’s a phone call for you!”

My sister smiled, holding out the receiver with one hand while dragging Shamisen around with the other. I took both the phone and the cat and went into my room.

As I’d expected, the call was from Nakagawa.

“This is really hard to say, but…”

Nakagawa had informed me that he was calling from a pay phone at the hospital, and from the tone of his voice, he indeed sounded reluctant to continue.

“Could you give her the message that I’m withdrawing my marriage proposal?”