“Where’s Suzumiya? Isn’t she with you?”
That was all it took to bring me back to reality. That was a close one. I nearly could’ve caused Haru-mageddon. I feigned calm and put my bag on the table.
“No, she’s got classroom cleaning duty. She’s probably sweeping dust all over the music room by now.”
“I see…”
Asahina closed her lips, as though not terribly interested in Haruhi’s whereabouts.
I couldn’t help but wonder if something was up. Asahina definitely seemed strange. The girl from the future always greeted me with a smile like a single sunflower blooming in a vase (that part’s a bit delusional) but at that moment, everything about her, from her fine features and soft hair to her obviously sweet breath, was overflowing with ennui.
Radiating unhappiness, Asahina stood directly before me, looking at me with her hands clasped and fingers intertwined. Despite whatever was troubling her, she seemed unsure of what to do about it. Perhaps unfortunately, she wasn’t searching for the right words to confess her love. Though I wasn’t searching for the memory, it came to me unbidden—the time I’d last seen her this way. It was the same expression she’d worn at Tanabata last year, when she’d asked me to go three years back in time with her (the first time).
It had been six months since then, and while Asahina was constantly improving her cuteness level, I remained as stupid as always. Nonetheless, as I tried to rein in Haruhi and the SOS Brigade a bit, I reflected on the fact that little by little I was starting to get used to it enough to tell myself, “Hey, this isn’t so bad.” I was sure nothing Asahina could tell me would really surprise me, and I had no intention of refusing her.
As I busied myself trying to burn the image of Asahina’s maid-outfit-wearing countenance onto my retinas, she finally initiated conversation. Opening her always glossy lips, she spoke.
“Kyon, um… I need a favor…”
Ka-click.
The door made a quiet click, then slowly opened. What I saw as I reflexively looked behind me was a short-haired, expressionless girl who walked quietly into the room.
Nagato mechanically closed the door.
“…”
She took a glance at Asahina and me, then, like a ghost, walked over to her usual spot.
Emotionlessly, she took her seat, then produced a paperback book from her bag and opened it. She probably had no particular interest in the fact that Asahina and I stood facing each other midconversation, but if she did, it was evidently outweighed by the bulky, difficult-looking paperback.
Asahina’s reaction was quicker, although far less subtle than mine would’ve been.
“Um… tea! I’ll put on some tea.”
She raised her voice as though wanting to announce her intentions, then trotted over to the kettle.
“Water, water—”
Holding the kettle, she trotted back over to the little refrigerator.
“Oh… we’re out of water. I’ll—I’ll go get some.”
Just as she was about to leave the clubroom, I stopped her.
“I’ll get it,” I said, offering to take the kettle. “It’s cold outside, and you’ll just tempt the other students in that outfit. We don’t need to give a free show to nonmembers. The water fountain is just downstairs. I’ll just run down there,” I started to say, but—
“Oh, I’ll go too!”
Asahina looked at me like a homeless kitten afraid of being abandoned on a rainy day. So cute. So cute, but also problematic. Was she still not comfortable being left alone with Nagato? They probably needed to have a heart-to-heart, I thought, but maybe it was hard for an alien and a time traveler to talk to each other.
But that was fine with me. If Asahina wanted to stick with me instead of Nagato, you’d have to dig past the Mohorovicic discontinuity to find a reason for me to refuse her. I’d be surprised if one existed, although with Haruhi it was less certain, and I imagined she might be able to dig up some kind of oozy reason. Fortunately, Haruhi was not here, and I wouldn’t find myself having a shovel forced on me.
I took the kettle and, unsure whether to sing or skip for joy, headed down the hall of the old building.
“Oh, wait for me—”
Asahina followed me in her maid outfit, like a kitten following its mother.
Although walking along with her like this was no special feat, pride swelled within me. Although I had not contributed to her looks, build, or personality, as far as I knew I was the only guy who regularly got close enough to touch her.
I was so proud, in fact, that I’d totally forgotten about the weird mood she’d been in earlier. Thus—
“Kyon—”
Asahina spoke as I started to fill the kettle with tap water.
“Are you free this Sunday? There’s a place I’d like to go with you.”
She sounded serious. I was stunned—no physical measuring device could possibly have measured my surprise. For a moment, I completely forgot what day it was and how many days there were before Sunday. With effort, I finally managed to speak.
“Of course I’m free.”
Even if I’d had something to do on Sunday, an invitation from Asahina would turn a red-marked calendar totally blank. She could ask to meet on February twenty-ninth for all I cared—I’d still be there. Even if it wasn’t a leap year, I’d find a way.
“Yeah, I’m free.”
I forced the words out even as fumes began to seep up from within me.
I’d gotten an invitation like this before, I realized.
But the place we’d arrived at turned out to be three years in the past, and all that time travel got really old after a while. To be honest, it wasn’t the kind of thing I wanted to do a lot. If I just up and did it all the time—which I wouldn’t, but still—I’d get sick of it.
“Don’t worry,” said Asahina.
She looked down, unconsciously playing with the kettle lid in her hands. She watched the water flow out of the tap.
“We won’t go to the past or the future. I, um… just want to buy some tea leaves at the mall. Will you help me pick some out, Kyon?”
She then dropped her voice, putting her finger to her lips and speaking barely above a whisper.
“But… keep this a secret from everyone, okay?”
It goes without saying that at that moment, I brimmed with confidence in my ability to resist any form of questioning.
Then came the waiting for Sunday. The minutes and seconds had never ticked by so slowly. Why did the hands of the clock move slower when you stared at them? Were they sneaking a break? I tried shaking the clock, but even that did nothing to speed up the hands, and it was then that I realized how powerless we humans are as we struggle in the face of eternal time.
This was my first outing with a time traveler that didn’t involve any actual time travel. We were just going to buy tea leaves. I gave some thought to that. Naturally, I didn’t think Asahina was some overprotected princess who couldn’t do her own shopping, nor, clearly, did I think she was a shut-in who needed assistance to purchase tea. No matter how cheap the leaves were, I would gladly drink her tea, and it wasn’t as though the SOS Brigade had any especially picky tea drinkers, anyway.
So why did she invite me along? And why so secretly?
A boy and a girl of similar age going out on a Sunday.
Wasn’t that essentially what most people would call a “date”? Yes, it had to be. That was it. This was a date. The way I saw it, the tea thing had just been an excuse. How modest of her. She could have just come right out and asked. No, this was better—this was Asahina, after all.
Sunday finally arrived.
On my bike, I sprinted furiously to the agreed-upon station-front meeting place. The pedals revolved easily, even without a motor, as though my beloved bicycle understood my feelings. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that I was feeling as pleasant as I ever had since joining the SOS Brigade. This was just a normal outing. I wouldn’t be closed up in some strange dimension, given a one-way ticket to the past, or discussing Zen riddles with an alien in her living room.
Of course, if the girl waiting for me in front of the station were Asahina the Elder, with her mysteriously knowing smile, that was another matter entirely.
I mean, I had a pretty average first-year high school student’s brain. Given my experiences thus far, I could imagine the way the future might turn out. Asahina (the Elder) was part of it. I was sure I’d come across her again eventually, and if that were today, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
“Aw, crap.”
I muttered to myself as I left my bike in the shadow of a telephone pole.
My thoughts were starting to favor weirder explanations. At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if something really did happen, and that lack of surprise itself would taint my sense of danger. You’ve got a few screws loose if you don’t get surprised at things that should be surprising. I wanted to be a normal human, or at least preserve my sanity. I wanted to be able to laugh when I was supposed to laugh, even if I was a little late.
So I smiled hugely.
It was the usual Asahina who was standing at the SOS Brigade’s traditional meeting place.
When I noticed her standing amid the weekend swell of traffic, waving at me with those small hands of hers, it was almost too much to bear.
Her outfit was chic and feminine, and her hair was done differently too—the subtle beauty of a girl making an effort to be grown-up and stylish. I was nearly moved to tears.
I stopped suddenly in front of the warmly dressed Asahina and gave her my best Koizumi smile, which I’d practiced many times in the mirror.
“Hi there. Sorry I’m late,” I said, despite having arrived fifteen minutes early.
“Oh, no…”
Asahina breathed into her clasped hands—but her eyes were warm.
“I just got here myself…”
She smiled softly.
“Well, shall we go?”
I nodded quickly and took the first step.
Asahina’s hair was tied up, exposing the nape of her neck; a feeling I found hard to name filled me. I walked like a knight sworn to protect a princess who was journeying to flee the internal strife of her family.
Her stride, like her features, seemed too youthful, and it was hard to believe she was really a year older than me. There was something childlike about her walk; it was like my younger sister’s. Her unbalanced steps, so hard to imagine coming from a girl who was supposedly a second-year high school student, stirred up my protective instincts. When she occasionally looked up at me with her worried eyes, they conveyed an emotion that was hard to comprehend.
After all, the current activity was entirely out of the ordinary in a variety of ways. Normally we were in the clubroom with Haruhi or Nagato or Koizumi, and my emotions in that chaotic place swung between joy and sorrow.
But now it was just Asahina and me. And this was a secret from everyone else. The despotic brigade chief, omnipotent alien, and limited esper were nowhere to be found. How refreshing.
I felt like announcing it with all my strength. I am on an outing alone with Asahina, and I am incapable of responsible decisions!
To be honest, I was floating. Compared with the honor of walking side by side with the prettiest face of North High (by a wide margin), the Purple Ribbon was nothing; I would’ve happily chucked it into the ocean as fish food. Not that Japan would be crazy enough to give me an honor like that. Our destination was a shopping center near the station.
I occasionally came here to shop with my family. The buildings sold mostly clothing and food, though there was a large bookstore—but that was Nagato’s territory, not mine. Unsurprisingly, Asahina led me to where the foodstuffs were sold.
We headed past a line of registers to an area that specialized in tea, with cases of a huge variety of Japanese-style green tea lined up in neat rows.
“Good afternoon!”
Asahina delivered a charming greeting, and the old man behind the counter cracked a smile like asphalt splitting on a hot day.
“Hey, welcome back!”
Evidently she was a regular customer.
“Hmm, which one should I get today…?”
Asahina murmured to herself, deep in thought as she gazed at the pots on which names and prices were handwritten.
It goes without saying that I don’t know more about tea than she does, so I didn’t try to give her any advice, instead simply staying at her side, my nose twitching at the unfamiliar scents of the various teas.
Asahina took her tea leaves seriously, and she talked passionately with the shopkeeper about things like how many times the leaves were dried and how long to let them steep, while I stood there uselessly like a scarecrow after the harvest.
No one in the SOS Brigade, including me, knew anything about tea. Haruhi would gulp down any vaguely colored liquid that was in a teacup, up to and including hydrogen peroxide. It wasn’t even clear whether Nagato had taste buds. And Koizumi would never complain.
For my part, I was prepared to drink anything she prepared, even if it were a goblet full of hemlock. A promise was a promise. So long as I left myself in the care of a certain person afterward, I’d probably survive.
Being useless in the role of advisor, I stood guard next to Asahina in front of the store as she methodically picked out tea. Eventually she settled on a variety of green tea called something like “Master Wizard.”
“We came all the way out here, after all…”
Asahina looked up at me with even more bashful eyes than usual.
“Would you like to have some of this tea with me? The snacks here are tasty too, and they’ll let you brew tea you’ve just purchased.”
Even in this store basement, there was a café with a little bit of seating. I wouldn’t have refused even if the sun had exhausted its helium fuel. I happily followed Asahina, sitting down at a table to order dumplings and fine tea.
I was already starting to worry.
Asahina seemed to be very concerned with the time. She fidgeted constantly and kept stealing glances at her watch. Her actions seemed natural enough, so I doubted that she was doing it for my benefit—rather, she seemed to be trying to keep me from noticing—but unfortunately, I noticed. I mean, she kept checking her watch and letting these sad little sighs escape. It was impossible to ignore.
“These dumplings are tasty. Tea’s good too. You’ve got great taste as usual, Asahina. Mmm, delicious.”
I pretended not to notice. It was hard not to praise myself for being a considerate guy.
“Yeah…”
Asahina took a bite of her dumpling, then looked slowly down and checked her watch again.
My feeling that something was going on here continued to grow.
I’d been carried away all along. The notion of being able to go out with the unofficial Miss North High, whose legendary proportions were clear even in her adorable winter outfit, was enough to make me want to yell out my joy from the rooftop.
I sipped my tea; the hot liquid filtered down into my stomach as my suspicions grew.
There had to be a catch.
There was a large body of circumstantial evidence that pointed to the fact that Mikuru Asahina, the sole second-year student in the SOS Brigade, was a time traveler. For some reason, she had come to the past. Regardless of that reason, under Haruhi’s tyranny she had become the SOS Brigade’s mascot, a job that had nothing to do with her original duty.
Yes, her official assignment was to observe Haruhi and occasionally drag me into the past to fix certain events—yes, no matter how you looked at it, that was her job.
Today had to be something like that. The tea errand was some prologue to another incident. Did Asahina know that? Her worried expression and bearing were worrisome.
We finished our dumplings, and the time came to pay the check. Asahina strongly refused to let me contribute.
“No, it’s fine. I’m the one who asked you along today. So let me—”
No, no, I couldn’t possibly let you, I told her.
“It’s okay, really! I mean, Kyon, you’re always treating me…”
Well, that was because Haruhi had made the rule that whoever was last to assemble for a club meeting had to treat the whole club, and for some reason I was always last to arrive, but that was just the evil nature of the SOS Brigade. The situation here was totally different—we were practically on a date—and the cash in my wallet was dying to be freed.
“Please.”
Asahina pleaded with me.
“Just let me.”
She was so sincere, I found myself nodding.
Asahina and I left the mall, and with nowhere in particular to go, we found ourselves gazing at the passing crowds there beneath the cold midwinter sky.
When you’re done with activities, normally you’d say, “Good-bye, see you tomorrow,” but isn’t that sort of lame? I wasn’t cool or sociable enough to pull it off, and there was still a good amount of time before the sun would set. We were only a month into winter—the sun was only just starting to set early.
As I was trying to decide where to ask her to go, she beat me to it.
“Would you accompany me for a little walk? Please, Kyon.”
Again with those pleading eyes. That face and voice could turn anyone’s legs into jelly; I was powerless to resist.
“This way. Shall we?”
She started walking without hesitation. I had hoped she would take my arm, but unfortunately that seemed too high a hope.
Shrugging my shoulders in the chilly air, I followed the petite second-year student.
We walked for some time after that.
She seemed to have a destination in mind, occasionally glancing at me to confirm I was still there beside her as she walked.
I was realizing more and more that something was strange about her today, but I said nothing as I strolled along with her.
How to put it? Asahina’s usual mode was funnier, charming all around with her adorable mannerisms, but today she was like Taniguchi or me as we trudged up the hill to school on the day of a physics exam.
And on top of that, she kept peering around us.
It was like she thought she was being followed… no, that wasn’t it. Whatever she was worried about wasn’t behind her. She seemed to be concerned about her front arc. Glancing around like an elementary schooler who’d missed an orienteering checkpoint on a field trip, she looked like either a criminal or a tourist. If she had been a middle-aged man instead of a fetching lass, she probably would have been questioned by a passing patrol car. But with her charms, she would probably be pardoned of any offense. Not that any of that mattered.
Maybe her suspicious manner was why I wasn’t paying attention to anything else.
I realized I was feeling somehow nostalgic, and I started to slow down.
It was a strange feeling—I’d played around this neighborhood my entire life, and the scenery was entirely familiar to me, so why—
“Ah.”
My breath caught in my mouth at the understanding. I see.
I suddenly understood why the path we’d taken from the station had felt so familiar, as well as where this strange nostalgia came from.
It would be hard to forget the day last May when the SOS Brigade conducted its first citywide search for mysterious phenomena. The memory of Asahina and me walking aimlessly together after having drawn straws and getting paired together was engraved particularly deeply upon my mind, and I doubt I will ever forget it as long as I live.
And we were now walking down that same path. The nostalgia came from the situation—walking that same way, again with Asahina. Not even a year had passed since then, but it felt like the distant past. After all, I now knew for certain that Asahina was a time traveler, but back then I hadn’t had a clue. Until I heard her shocking statements on the bench beneath the cherry blossoms, I’d thought she was just an ordinary, if well-endowed, girl.
But all that was gone now. It was in the past. No wonder I was feeling nostalgic.
As I expected, Asahina was heading to the place where the memories were thickest. Only this time, she was glancing around like a nervous herbivore upon the grasslands, and she was still constantly checking her watch.
Her strange behavior continued; I knew better than to expect a response if I spoke up.
We continued to walk, our breath constantly white in the winter air, until finally we reached the place.
The cherry trees beside the river.
The Yoshino cherry trees along this path had bloomed twice last year—in the spring and again in the fall. I just hoped they had enough life in them to bloom again the coming spring.
I was feeling rather emotional, but Asahina didn’t seem to care. Even when we passed the bench where she’d delivered her explosive revelation, she didn’t seem to notice at all. She was the very embodiment of absentmindedness. What was she so worried about?
As I rather desolately tried to guess, she suddenly sighed to herself.
“Isn’t it time yet…?”
She checked her watch.
“It should happen any moment now… but…”
She didn’t seem to realize she’d spoken as she let out another sigh again, then looked around.
I pretended not to notice and concentrated on walking.
Great. Any idea that this had been a date now seemed like a distant memory. I’d hoped for a more relaxed, romantic stroll, but clearly it was not meant to be. I guess that’s life.
We didn’t see so much as a leaf, to say nothing of an actual flower petal, and soon the desolate cherry trees were behind us.
Asahina was heading upstream. If we kept going, we’d reach another memorable place—Nagato’s apartment. If we continued even farther, we’d wind up going all the way back to North High.
Thanks to all the walking, my body was warming up—apparently not all of the warmth was coming from the girl next to me.
Eventually we descended down off the riverbank and made for the train tracks. We walked along the private rail line; I’d once walked this way with Haruhi too.
With all the memories surfacing in my mind, even I started to feel a little uneasy.
“Kyon, this way.”
“Huh?”
If Asahina hadn’t tugged on my sleeve, I would have just kept going.
“We need to cross the street.”
We were at the intersection of the tracks and the street. Asahina was pointing to the pedestrian crossing signal for the prefectural road, which flashed a red DON’T WALK message.
“Oh, sorry.”
I apologized and lined myself up next to her. Though the street was quiet and free from cars, it was very Asahina-like of her to insist on waiting anyway.
We didn’t have to wait more than ten seconds. The traffic light flicked from green to yellow, then soon lit up red, and in exchange, the pedestrian signal turned green.
I took my first step almost simultaneously with Asahina.
And then—
A little shadow rushed past me from behind.
“Ah—”
It was Asahina who cried out in a small voice.
The shadow ran past me and through the crosswalk, toward the other side. It was an elementary school boy, about the same age as my sister, maybe fourth or fifth grade. He wore glasses and had an intelligent look about him.
“Aah!”
It was Asahina again who shouted, and the shout reached my ears along with a terrible noise that made my eyes snap wide open.
A car was speeding toward the crossing, its tires squealing. The traffic signal was red. Nevertheless, the car—a moss-green minivan—was heading toward the crosswalk with no sign of deceleration.
Then—
The kid who had sprinted into the street realized he was in danger and froze.
The car was closing in. The driver had about as much respect for the speed limit as he or she had for the red light. A premonition of the kid flying through the air flashed through my mind, and before I realized what was happening, my body was in motion.
I didn’t know whether I was yelling at the car or the kid, but I ran. It felt like everything was in slow motion. I’m sure from a third-person perspective it all happened in an instant.
“Whoa—!”
I made it. I grabbed the glasses-wearing kid by the collar and pushed him back with all my strength, the force of which carried me to safety as well.
The speeding car disappeared almost instantly.
I was covered in sweat.
It had been close. The van’s tires had passed by my toes with millimeters to spare. A step later, and everything from my ankles down would’ve been as flat as a worn-out shoe.
“That crazy bastard!”
I didn’t know who’d been driving, but blood rushed to my head as I raged at the escaping car.
“What the hell kind of driving was that? Speeding through a red light? Is he trying to get somebody killed? Asahina, did you get his plates?”
I’d missed them, having been busy tumbling over with the boy. Hoping her vision had been good, I looked up to her—
“So this was it…”
What?
Asahina stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide. That wasn’t what surprised me, though—it was hardly surprising that she’d be stunned after witnessing such a close call.
No, what surprised me was that the expression on Asahina’s face wasn’t merely one of shock.
“So that’s why… I see. That’s why I was called here…”
Asahina murmured to herself, looking at the boy who’d very nearly been hit.
The expression of surprise on her beautiful face was mixed with a strange understanding.
Without the slightest idea of what was going on, I kept my rear glued to the ground until eventually Asahina stiffly came over to us, her face pale. Unfortunately, she was not heading toward me, but rather to the boy, who was also sitting on the ground.
The boy’s face was also sheet-white, probably from the shock of the near miss. His eyes blinked rapidly at Asahina.
“Are you all right?”
She knelt down on the asphalt, placing her hands on the boy’s shoulders. He nodded rapidly.
“Can you tell me your name?”
I had no idea why she needed to know his name, but the boy answered her.
I’d never heard the name before. But Asahina had, it seemed.
The instant she heard his name, she seemed to stop breathing. Doing a great impression of Nagato, she unblinkingly looked the boy in the eye for a long moment, then finally took a deep breath and spoke.
“I see… so you’re…”
The boy’s mouth hung open. Having escaped death by runaway minivan, now a beautiful girl was staring him in the eye and asking his name. It was enough to stun anyone. I knew how the poor kid felt.
But Asahina was serious.
“Listen, you have to promise me.”
Her face was tight, in a way I’d never seen in the clubroom.
“From now on… you have to look out for cars, okay? When you’re crossing the street or getting in a vehicle, or even on an airplane or a train, you have to be careful. Boats, too. So you don’t get hurt or run over, or fall or sink. Always be careful, okay? I want you to promise me.”
The boy was shocked. I know I was. There was no need to say all that stuff. It just seemed like it was going overboard.
Asahina’s moist-eyed entreaty was enough to make even me want to shout, “Yes, ma’am!” And just as I was about to—
“Okay.”
The boy nodded. Even if he didn’t understand why, he seemed to see that it was important to her. He looked at her closely.
“I’ll be careful.”
He spoke flatly, then ducked his head, bobbing like a roly-poly toy whose balance has been disturbed.
Asahina didn’t seem satisfied by that, and she extended the pinky of one hand.
“Let’s make a pinky promise, then.”
Watching the boy tentatively link pinkies with Asahina caused a twinge in the corners of my chest. I believe it was what you call “jealousy.” Selfishly, I wanted her to do that only with me. But, hell, he was just a kid, and I wasn’t so immature as to fake falling over just to get in their way—but neither was I enough of an adult not to feel some relief when she finally stood up. I don’t know if that was a good thing or not.
As an alternative, I looked up at the signal.
“Asahina, the light’s about to change. We should get out of the road.”
The crosswalk signal had started to flash.
“Oh, yes.”
Asahina finally stood, but she continued to gaze at the boy, who was smart enough to finally notice this. He bowed.
“Thank you very much for saving me. I’ll be careful from now on.”
He then added a bow to his words.
“Excuse me, and ’bye!”
He bowed again, then scampered off across the road at full speed.
Asahina didn’t move. She watched the boy as though he were a precious gem, as he ran off into the distance with the peculiar quickness of a child.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Asahina, the light’s red. C’mon—”
I pulled the winter-clothed beauty out of the street and back onto the walking path. Her complacent body was as relaxed as Shamisen’s when he randomly decided to curl up in my bed. I knew she would be very soft if I decided to hug her—not that I did, of course.
Just as the light turned red—
“Ooh…”
I heard a sob come from diagonally behind me. It was coming from Asahina, and it was muffled—she had shoved her face into my arm.
Huh? I thought.
Asahina buried her face even deeper, and her shoulders were shaking. It didn’t seem likely that she was laughing.
She continued to sob.
Transparent liquid dripped from her eyes onto my clothing, soaking into it. She clung to me like a child as her tears overflowed.
“Wh-what is it? Asahina, um, are you—”
I’d been in a few impossible situations in the past, but this was on an entirely different level. Why was she crying? We’d saved the boy, hadn’t we? Nobody had died—shouldn’t she be happy instead of sad? Was it just a reaction to the shock of the sudden danger?
“No, that’s not it.”
Asahina answered through her sniffling.
“… I’m so pathetic. I don’t understand anything… I can’t do anything.”
Well, now I didn’t understand anything.
But she just kept crying, apparently having lost all will to articulate coherent thoughts. Like the way Shamisen clawed onto me when I picked him up, she grabbed onto my clothes with both hands, burying her face in my sleeve.
What was going on here?
My mind whirled with questions, but only one answer was forthcoming.
The day’s events were over. The pseudo-date she’d invited me out on, the mysterious walk we’d taken—it was all over now.
I didn’t have to be Koizumi to deduce that much.
I couldn’t very well stand there beneath the freezing sky all day while a distressed upperclassman clung to me.
There were eyes on the walking path, and several people stared at the strange couple as they passed, wondering what the two could possibly be doing on a cold day like this.
“Asahina, maybe we should go somewhere to sit down. Um… can you walk?”
Her face still pressed against my upper arm, but I saw her chestnut hair nod.
I slowly started to walk, matching my stride to Asahina’s unsteady steps. Accompanied by the sniffling, clinging girl, progress was slow—it was both what I’d wished for and not. The one thing I hoped for now was that no boys from our school saw us. If they did, the probability that I’d be targeted by the Mikuru Asahina followers would spike.
“Where shall we go?”
We needed someplace where we could rest out of sight. A respite from the cold would be nice too. My first thought was a café, but sitting across from a sobbing lass in a café didn’t sound particularly comfortable.
A while ago, I’d noticed one building that was in the direction we were heading—it was Nagato’s swanky apartment. I was sure she’d let us in if we asked, but something told me that wasn’t a great idea.
So there was only once place left—we were getting close to the mecca for weirdos that was in Nagato’s neighborhood, that place where so many of my memories lay sealed away—yes, the park. We’d already passed the bench by the river, so it only made sense to try the other spot where so much had happened.
At least we would be able to sit down. And who knew, maybe somebody would pop out from the bushes behind us.
It seemed that people willing to visit the park in this freezing weather were in the minority. The bench I’d been thinking of was unoccupied and exposed to the wind, as though we’d obtained reserved tickets for it ahead of time.
I sat Asahina down, then sat down next to her at a slight remove. Glancing at her profile, I saw her looking down, a few tears still clinging to her cheeks.
Searching my pockets for a handkerchief, all I felt was the fabric of my clothes. Damn, of all the days to forget it! Just as I was despairing of finding any other cloth to wipe her tears with and considering ripping off my own sleeve—
Whump.
I felt a soft pressure on my shoulder and looked to see that it was Asahina’s forehead. It looked like she was going to continue her crying jag there. My shoulder was suddenly itchy. It was like when someone puts their finger close to the spot between your eyes—your skin gets the wrong idea. Something like that. Of course, I was actually being touched, so I must have been pretty worn-out.
“Want me to get you a cup of coffee?”
I thought it was a fine idea, but the head of chestnut hair shook in the negative.
“What about some oolong tea?”
Again the forehead pressed to my shoulder shook left to right, a bit peevishly.
I tried to picture the menu from the nearby vending machine.
“What about—”
“I’m sorry.”
Her weak voice finally reached my ears. With her face still against my shoulder, I couldn’t see her expression. But I didn’t need to. She only apologized when she was really, genuinely sorry.
I decided not to say anything, and I waited for her to continue.
“The reason I asked you along was to save that boy. I didn’t know before, but now I do. That was it. That was all.”
By all means, continue.
“I… I asked you out on the orders of my superiors. The places we went, the paths we took, the timing—it was all on their orders, so we would be able to save that boy… That was my duty.”
Her superiors, huh? Asahina the Elder’s smile flashed through my mind.
“Can I just ask something? Why don’t those so-called superiors of yours give you a little more detail? Like just go to a certain intersection and protect so-and-so at a certain time.”
“Um… I wish they would tell me too. But it’s no good. They won’t tell me anything. I’m sure it’s because I’m not good enough. All I can do is follow orders. Just like today—”
I thought again of the elder Asahina and that smile of hers.
“I’m sure that’s not true…”
In response to my assurance, her chestnut hair gave the biggest shake of the day so far.
“No, it is! They’d never give me such an important mission without any details otherwise! Why… it’s just…”
Her crying came back in full force. I had to change the subject.
“Who was that kid, anyway?”
Asahina sniffled for a while before answering.
“… He is a very important person for us in the future. He’s the reason we’re able to be in this time period. He must continue to exist…”
Her voice got quieter and quieter.
“… I can’t say more… I’m sorry…”
In other words, that kid—whoever he was—could not be allowed to die. In order to prevent his accident, Asahina was directed to bring me to this place.
If I’d been a second slower in catching the glasses-wearing brat, he would’ve been hit head-on by that speeding minivan. I don’t know what would’ve happened to him after that, but it probably would’ve been the worst possible outcome. Short of a miracle, he would’ve said sayonara to his world.
“Hmm?”
Wait a second—which history was the right one? I’d saved the boy. That was reality now. So what about the future? Did the future Asahina come from the one where the boy had been hit? And to avoid that, Asahina had used me to save him—
No, that didn’t make sense either.
My saving him meant that the kid narrowly avoiding his accident was now historical fact. So that had to hold true for the future too. Otherwise, it meant that Asahina’s future was discontinuous from the present. So in that case, from the perspective of the future, the kid hadn’t had an accident, so why bother going all the way back to the past to prevent it—but unless they did so, he would have an accident…
“Ouch.”
My head hurt.
Something was wrong. Whenever I tried to think about hard stuff like this, I felt like smoke was pouring from my ears.
“I don’t understand.”
I spoke the truth.
“I don’t see which one is the correct reality—the kid having the accident or surviving it?”
Shaking her head hesitantly, Asahina spoke in a voice like a droplet of water.
“We are not the only ones who have come from the future. There are others who do not wish for our future to exist. So…”
The moss-green minivan. The insane driver.
“Do you mean…”
My memories all screamed the same thing at me.
Ryoko Asakura, for one. She was from a different faction within the Data Overmind.
There was another organization besides Koizumi’s “Agency.” I remembered him jokingly saying something about a secret struggle taking place.
And there was another, much more recent memory. The creator of that house we’d encountered in the mountains. It had been a mysterious dimension that even Nagato couldn’t analyze. “An enemy of the SOS Brigade,” Koizumi had called it.
Which one of those had done this? Our enemy. I didn’t like that word.
They had tried to erase a boy who had originally needed to live. Which meant that his existence was a problem for them.
Others, who do not wish for our future to exist—
Who were they? I asked.
“That’s…”
Asahina’s lip trembled. She tried to speak, but her face soon showed her surrender.
“… I can’t tell you now. Not… not yet.”
She was shifting back to crying mode.
“That’s what’s so pathetic. Really. I can’t do anything. I can’t even help you understand.”
That wasn’t true.
Asahina wasn’t useless at all. She was just being prevented from doing anything. And the one doing it was her future self, Asahina the Elder.
During the first Tanabata incident, I’d sat right here on this very bench and promised her I wouldn’t. I’d even pinky-promised.
“You have to keep me a secret from her,” she’d said.
How long I’d have to keep the secret, I had no idea. And if I didn’t know, I shouldn’t tell her. I didn’t understand it myself. I just felt very strongly that I shouldn’t say anything.
I wasn’t sure how my silence was being interpreted, but Asahina spoke in a quiet voice.
“Even before, you were the one who saved that boy, right? It’s strictly prohibited for people from the future to interfere directly.”
Oh, really?
“The only ones who may change the past are those who live within it. Anything else is against the rules…”
Hence my debut.
“I just did what my superiors told me to do, without knowing anything. I didn’t know why I was doing any of it. When I think about it, it just makes me feel so… stupid.”
That wasn’t true.
“I’ve written messages, trying to get them to let me tell you more… but they are always rejected. It’s because I’m so useless, I just know it.”
That wasn’t true either.
I finally opened my mouth.
“You’re not useless. Really—you’ve done so much for me, for the SOS Brigade, and for the world. You shouldn’t worry about it like this.”
Asahina looked up suddenly, but soon she pointed her tearful eyes back down.
“But all I ever do is wear a bunch of different outfits…” Her voice was low. “And even then, I didn’t know anything…” It rose again.
By “then” she meant December eighteenth—
I was about as serious as I ever get. Asahina seemed to realize that, and she looked up at me, surprised.
Asahina was no mere teatime maid mascot. The buxom beauty that she would become appeared in my mind.
Snow White. She had given me the hint that had allowed me to return with Haruhi from closed space.
Tanabata, three years ago. After traveling back in time with Asahina, I’d gone to Asahina the Elder, who’d sent me to the waiting Nagato.
And she’d helped me restore history after it had been altered.
Oh, right, I haven’t talked about that incident yet. It’s a long story, so I’ll try to keep it brief, but to sum things up, it was right after the winter field trip that we’d done it. Nagato, Asahina, and I had gone back in time to then, where we’d met a dying version of myself along with Nagato’s transformed version before putting everything in order. Asahina should have remembered that much, but what she wouldn’t notice (unlike Nagato and me) was the future version of herself. Asahina the Elder had made sure of that.
What was certain was that they were both Asahina—unlike the Asahina in the alternate timeline, who didn’t recognize me. To put it Nagato’s way, they were temporal variations of the same entity.
This Asahina was only acting on the orders of her boss, that much was clear, and I was sure that boss was in fact Asahina the Elder. The adult Asahina knew exactly what her younger self did and did not know. They were the same person, after all.
If there was something this Asahina needed to know, the elder Asahina would have long since told me what it was. The fact that she hadn’t meant that there was nothing I could say. “You must not tell her who was there,” Asahina the Elder had made me promise.
True enough, I could easily just tell her that an even lovelier version of herself had come from farther in the future to help me. It would be just as easy as it would have been to wake the other version of myself after I’d come back from my second trip back in time and tell him everything. But I hadn’t done that, of course, and he hadn’t done that to me. And because he hadn’t done that to me, it was something I couldn’t do. Instead, I did only what I had to do.
This Asahina would someday return to the future. Then she would travel back in time again, older this time, to help us. It was true that at the moment her calling seemed to be to serve as the SOS Brigade’s lovely maid, but that didn’t mean she was useless. Everything was connected. The future would happen because of the present. If the elements were altered, the future would naturally change.
Thinking on all this, I suddenly realized something.
“Oh!”
I wanted to say it. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t. But I felt like I could finally put a name to this itchy feeling.
I thought about the previous summer, during the brigade’s first hunt for mysterious phenomena. I’d walked along with Asahina, and there beneath the cherry blossoms she’d told me she was from the future and explained the principles of time travel, although whether that incredible lecture about time planes was really an explanation or not wasn’t clear.
Back then, no matter what I asked her, she’d always given me the same answer.
“That’s classified.”
What I was feeling now was surely the same thing she’d felt then. I couldn’t tell her.
“Asahina.”
I still wanted to tell her something.
“Yes?”
Asahina gazed up at me with big, wet eyes.
“Um… look. You’re… how do I put this… you’re not just some toy for Haruhi—er… huh. Like, there’s another layer, or like a background… thing. Hmm…”
I trailed off, my thought unfinished as I failed to find the right words. It was no good; no matter what I said, I ran into something I shouldn’t say. It was damn annoying. I couldn’t think of words that would comfort her but also be safe to say. I’m sure if Koizumi were here, he’d be able to condense a whole lecture into a dozen words. But I had to keep myself from always running to him or Nagato for help. This was my problem.
But just like giving a computer to a monkey doesn’t mean he can use it, my mind couldn’t conjure up the vocabulary I needed to abandon the status quo.
“Um… look…”
Thinking some physical stimulation might get the ol’ neurons firing, I knocked on my head with my fists. And yet—
“Er… uh…”
I just wound up rubbing my temples as I groaned.
Until Asahina spoke.
“Kyon, it’s okay.”
I looked up and met her glittering eyes, but they were definitely smiling now.
“It’s okay, really.”
She repeated herself.
“I understand. What you’re trying to—”
She understood? What did she understand? I didn’t even know what I was trying to say.
“You don’t have to say anything. It’s enough.”
Asahina’s once-closed lips opened, her gaze full of kindness. In her eyes there was a faint but unmistakably gentle understanding.
I finally got it.
What, you ask? Wasn’t it obvious?
I had realized that she had realized.
Perhaps she’d understood from my stuttering manner what I couldn’t plainly tell her. It was something that would take her feeling of powerlessness and throw it far, far away. But I couldn’t say it. So what could it be? There weren’t many possible answers.
“Oh—”
As soon as I opened my mouth, Asahina calmly moved her hand. Something at once cold and warm touched my lips—it was her index finger, cutting off what I was about to say.
It was enough.
There was no need to say any more. She had received the message I couldn’t send. I understood that. There was silence between us.
“Mmm.”
Asahina slowly removed her finger, then put it to her own lips. She winked clumsily.
“Yeah.”
I left it at that.
We didn’t need any words. It was true. No pitcher in the world had to call out his pitches to the catcher. The world was full of convenient signals. If you didn’t need words to convey a simple message, then why use them?
There were other ways of communication that more than sufficed.
I wondered if that wasn’t perhaps a special property of emotions. Think about it—we shared sympathy without words. So there wasn’t any need to say more. Words were superfluous. Saying more than necessary was meaningless, a waste of breath.
Asahina smiled.
I returned her smile.
That was enough. Our feelings made up for what our words couldn’t say.
The next day—Monday.
After school, everybody gathered in the SOS Brigade headquarters as usual, and after drinking the tea Asahina and I had bought just the previous day, the brigade chief spoke up.