WHERE DID THE CAT GO?

The middle portion of the winter break crept asymptomatically toward the new year; originally we had been looking forward to the mystery that Koizumi and his comrades had set up for us, but the day we arrived at Tsuruya’s vacation house, we found ourselves wandering within its daydreamlike interior, and to make matters worse, Nagato collapsed out on the ski slope, which got even Haruhi freaked out.

Fortunately, upon returning to normal dimensionality, Nagato soon recovered, but no matter how you figure it, it was a crazy New Year’s Eve Eve—or December thirtieth, as the calendar figures it.

The next day. New Year’s Eve.

We had finally come to the brink of a project that had been in the planning stages for some time—the winter version of the mystery game that that overachiever Koizumi had set up when we’d visited a remote island during summer vacation. Of course, this time we knew it was a game, but it was still the main event of this whole excursion. As for the disaster on the snowy mountain; the phantom villa; the nude, fake Asahina; Euler’s theorem (or something); the feverish Nagato fainting—those were all unanticipated and undesired incidents. They weren’t Haruhi’s style, and I’d like to tell whoever or whatever was responsible that they’ll get what’s coming to them. Although Nagato was incapacitated, Koizumi and I (it’s hard to say how useful Asahina the Younger was) managed somehow. And now in the same villa that housed us, we had Tsuruya as well as Koizumi’s associates, none of whom should be underestimated. It would be stranger if something didn’t happen.

So.

With the preparations completed, things could now proceed in an SOS Brigade–style—or should I say Haruhi-style—fashion.

I had lingering doubts about whether this was the right way to end the year, but since I was the only one who seemed to hold such doubts, I kept my own counsel.

Just to be clear, the dramatis personae of this episode were: me, Haruhi, Nagato, Asahina, Koizumi, Tsuruya, my little sister, Shamisen the calico cat, Mori, and Arakawa, along with brothers Keiichi and Yutaka Tamaru, who arrived that day.

At Haruhi’s urging, Koizumi’s Mystery Tour Part Two began.

The morning of New Year’s Eve. After polishing off the breakfast that Mori and Arakawa prepared for us, we assembled downstairs in Tsuruya’s villa. The first floor was an open common area. The floor consisted of around twenty tatami mats arranged upon a Japanese cedar base, almost like a stage for performing Noh or Kyogen theater. In the middle of the room was a sunken hearth table that could easily seat eight people. The space seemed designed for letting guests relax and make merry to their hearts’ content. The floors were also heated, of course, and a quiet heater fan in the corner blew a warm breeze through the room, so both the common area and the hallway were kept effortlessly warm.

Through the windows, the clear blue of the sky above the ski slope was perfectly smooth, as though airbrushed onto a smooth acrylic board—but there would be no snow sports today.

“I’m still a little worried about Yuki, so let’s play inside today,” said Haruhi, putting a ban on skiing. Of course, Nagato herself had returned to her normal expressionless self, even saying “It’s nothing” to try to curtail Haruhi’s nursing efforts, but once she’d decided something, Haruhi never reversed herself.

“No! At least stay inside for today. Until I’m sure you’re all right, no intense exercise or vigorous activity. Okay?”

Nagato just looked at Haruhi with those big eyes of hers, then looked to the rest of us in turn. I probably wasn’t the only one who thought it was almost as if she were saying “I don’t mind, but how do you guys feel about it?”

“It would be worrisome to leave Nagato all alone while the rest of us went out. I agree with Haruhi. All of us facing doom in order to save just one… it makes a beautiful story, does it not?” said Koizumi pleasantly.

Tsuruya and my little sister, neither of whom were proper brigade members, also agreed. Shamisen dangled from my sister’s arms; his opinion was unclear, but he didn’t make any noise, so presumably he had no complaints.

“Shall we push the plan forward, then?” said Koizumi, his gaze pointed out the window. “I had originally planned to start in the evening and end around midnight, but we can begin earlier.”

Can’t we just begin now? I wondered. Before the light of Haruhi’s anticipation burns out my optic nerves?

“Actually, it needs to start snowing again before that can happen. The weather forecast calls for snow showers starting around noon, so we’ll need to wait until then.”

I had only dragged the heavy Shamisen all the way out here because Koizumi had told me he needed the cat, and now he needed snow? If he needed snow, there were piles of the stuff outside, I told him.

“I need continuous, ongoing snowfall. I can’t explain further—I don’t want to ruin the trick.”

Having explained, Koizumi smiled to the calico cat in my sister’s arms, who was for the moment behaving himself, then picked up a rucksack from next to the heater.

“In anticipation of such a situation, I’ve brought several games. We can play indoors all day, if need be.”

I got a little excited, but then Koizumi started taking analog board games out of his bag. I wondered if he had something against video games.

Sure, we could play, but I was worried about Mori and Arakawa. Arakawa had acted as butler and chef, taking care of everything since our arrival the previous day, and Mori attended to us as a maid—although both of them were really members of the same Haruhi-observing Agency that Koizumi belonged to.

Their demeanor was so servantlike that I felt bad, and I wondered if I should help clean up a little after meals or something.

“No, we’re quite all right,” the two of them politely assured me. “This is our job, after all.”

Huh? Were they actually a butler and a maid? I was pretty sure they were just pretending and were actually part of Koizumi’s Agency.

Perhaps having noticed my doubts, Arakawa removed his businesslike mask and smiled. “It’s a gift of our occupational training,” he said to me.

Thus, neither of them were to be seen in the common area. Perhaps they were busily working away in the kitchen.

As for the other two—Keiichi Tamaru, whose fortune from bio-something or other was large enough to buy himself a private island, and his brother, Yutaka—they wouldn’t arrive until around two o’clock, by which time Haruhi had made herself a board-game billionaire, leaving the rest of us bankrupt, and we’d moved on to lunch and Haruhi’s nerve-racking punishment games.

The two brothers appeared in the common room where we were all playing, led there by Arakawa.

“The trains were running late because of the snow. We’d planned to be here in the morning.”

Keiichi Tamaru looked like a completely normal older guy, and his smile was just as nice as it had been in the summer.

“Hi, guys. It’s been a while.”

The pleasant Yutaka Tamaru smiled even more brightly than Koizumi as he waved, then spoke to Tsuruya.

“Pleased to meet you—my name is Tamaru. Thank you so much for the invitation. It’s an honor to be invited to the Tsuruya family villa.”

“Don’t worry about it!” said Tsuruya quickly. “You’re friends of Koizumi’s, and you’ve put together this game for us, so don’t sweat it at all! I love stuff like this!”

No matter whom she was talking to, Tsuruya had a way of making friends in fifteen seconds. I wondered if Asahina’s homeroom class was like this too. The second-year guys in that class must be pretty happy.

Mori and Arakawa immediately paid their respects. “Welcome, honored guests.”

“To think we’d be imposing upon you in the winter too!” said Keiichi with a sheepish smile. “We’ll rely upon you, Arakawa.”

“Would you care for some lunch?” asked Mori with a small smile.

“No, thank you, we ate on the train,” replied Yutaka. “I think we’d like to put our luggage in our room.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll take it up for you, then.” Arakawa politely nodded, then looked to Koizumi.

“Well then, everyone—”

Koizumi stood and addressed the room like a priest conducting a marriage ceremony.

“With everyone assembled, let us begin the game—I should apologize to the Tamaru brothers, who’ve only just arrived.”

Koizumi’s smile was a bit forced. Was he unsure whether the game would go smoothly, or did some foolish punch line await us?

“Let me state again that the only victim will be Keiichi. There are no plans for this to become a serial murder case. Also, there is one murderer, and only one. Do not worry about multiple culprits. You need not consider motive. It has no meaning in this game. Finally, I would ask that starting now”—he pointed to a clock on the wall—“from two PM to three PM, no one other than Arakawa and Mori may leave this common area. Yutaka, that goes for you as well. If you need to attend to anything before we begin, please do so now. Is this all understood?”

Everyone nodded.

“It’s still seven minutes until two, but that’s fine. Shall we begin?” asked Keiichi Tamaru, at which Koizumi nodded.

“Well then.”

Reprising his role from this summer as the victim, Keiichi scratched his head, apparently a bit uncomfortable with being the center of attention.

“My room is in the small building, a bit removed from the main house, correct?”

“Yes. I can show you the way,” said Mori.

“I think I’ll take a bit of a nap. I actually awoke rather early today and am running short on sleep. My nose is acting up, as well—I may have caught a cold.”

“Now that you mention it, Keiichi, you are allergic to cats,” Yutaka said. “Perhaps that’s the trouble.”

Even for an act, this was all way too fake.

“That could be it. Uh, please don’t worry about me. The allergy’s not that severe. It can be rough in a small room, but I’ll be fine in a large space like this.”

Then, as though to really hammer the point home:

“Please come and wake me around four thirty. Will that be all right—four thirty?”

“Understood, sir.”

Mori bowed, then returned to her upright, elegant posture. “This way, please.”

Having delivered that series of obviously expository lines, Keiichi disappeared into the hallway after Mori. It was all so obvious.

“I’ll take my leave, then. Mr. Yutaka, I’ll take your luggage.”

Arakawa the butler gave a full ninety-degree bow, then quickly gathered up the bag and coat and left.

Having watched the three leave, Koizumi cleared his throat deliberately.

“Well then, that concludes the opening. Please enjoy yourselves in the common area for the next hour.”

“Now wait just a minute.”

It was Haruhi who objected.

“There’s an external building? I don’t remember that.”

“Sure there is,” said Tsuruya. “There’s a little place, separate from this house. Didn’t you see it?”

“I did not. Koizumi, it’s no fair hiding clues. You have to tell us these things. Let’s all go take a look at it.”

“You were going to see it later anyway…” Koizumi’s smile was weak in the face of his already disintegrating plans, but after looking at the clock, he seemed to decide the situation was salvageable. “Understood. There’s no harm in doing this much.”

“This way!”

Tsuruya walked along, taking the lead. Everyone else followed behind, of course—even my sister, carrying Shamisen, not that one person and one cat were going to be any use in solving the mystery.

Leaving the common area, we came to a hallway that ran parallel to a courtyard. The outside-facing walls were glass, so the garden was plainly visible.

Somewhere along the line it had started to snow.

The accumulated snow was about knee-deep. The garden was totally covered in white, yet somehow I got the sense that it had been done in the Japanese style. In the middle of the courtyard was a small hut.

After a minute’s walk, we came to the door that led to the courtyard, which Tsuruya opened. She then pointed.

“That’s the place. My grandfather used to use it to meditate. He hated people, see, so whenever he’d come to visit, he’d say something about getting away from my grandma, then lock himself up in there! It’s like, if you don’t like it, don’t come, right? But he’d get ticked off if we didn’t invite him. Tough guy to please.”

Tsuruya sounded a little nostalgic as she explained.

I tried to notice every little detail. A path led from the main house to the garden shack, but it had no walls—only a roof protected the stone path from snow, even on days that had light snow showers, like today. Things wouldn’t go so well if there were a blizzard.

The freezing air gave all of us a chill as it blew through the open door. Shamisen was particularly affected, and he wriggled around, trying to get back to his warm bed. My sister seemed to find this very funny, and before I could stop her, she walked out onto the stone pathway in her slippers, bringing Shamisen closer to a drift of snow.

“Look, Shami, it’s snow! Want to taste it?”

Shamisen thrashed around like a bonito on a hook, and as soon as he jumped free of my sister’s arms, he expressed his heartfelt irritation with a “meow!” as he disappeared back inside the house. No doubt he was returning to the heated floor to continue his nap.

“Goodness.”

Having shown Keiichi to his place, Mori walked back along the stone path with a floating grace. Her smile had an ageless quality to it.

“Is something the matter? If you are looking for Mr. Keiichi, he would be in the shack.”

“Are you sure?” asked Haruhi. Her face was already suspicious.

“Quite sure,” said Koizumi. “That’s what the script says.”

Once we’d returned to the common area, the clock pointed to two o’clock on the nose, and Koizumi seemed to sigh in relief.

“I’ll say this one more time. Please do not leave this area until after three o’clock. If you absolutely must, please tell me.”

Koizumi went over to his rucksack in the corner and took out another item. If there was more, why didn’t he just take it all out at once?

“Huh.”

Something suddenly occurred to me—Shamisen was nowhere to be seen. Koizumi had left his bag in the corner with the heater, and lately the pillow in front of the heater’s vent had been the cat’s preferred location. I thought for sure he’d be spitefully sleeping there, but no. Just as I was thinking about it—

“Shall we try this game to pass the time? Suzumiya, will this do?”

My questions were erased by Koizumi speaking.

“Sure,” said Haruhi, sounding somehow pleased with herself. “It might be a little early, but we’ll wind up playing anyway, so we might as well. Gimme that, Koizumi.”

Koizumi handed over the bag, whereupon Haruhi took something curious out of it—some sheets of paper with pictures drawn on them, along with a corresponding number of envelopes. She spread them out on the hearth table around which we all sat. I was suddenly filled with a sense of nostalgia.

“It’s fukuwarai!” said Haruhi. “You played it when you were a kid, right? Just pin the eyes, noses, and mouths on blank faces while blindfolded. I’d planned to play tomorrow, but we’ve got time, so let’s do it now. Plus, this isn’t just any old fukuwarai.”

That much was obvious. Just looking at the facial outlines and hairstyles, it was clear that they were caricatures of our faces. They were drawn well enough that even without eyes or noses, you could still tell who was who. I could see why Haruhi was so proud of them.

“I drew these. They’re handmade! There’s even one for Tsuruya. And I knew Kyon’s little sister was coming, so I made one for her too. Oh—sorry, Yutaka. I couldn’t really remember your face.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Yutaka easily. “That’s probably for the best, really.”

“Probably!”

Haruhi grinned and looked over the brigade members.

“Ready? We’re gonna play with our own faces. And no do-overs! When the faces are done, we’re gonna glue them in place and hang them on the clubroom wall, so be serious. If you don’t, you’ll be stuck with a weirdo version of your face in our clubroom forever!”

Her thinking was something else. She’d done an amazing job of capturing everybody’s features. If we managed to line them up right, they really would look like cartoon versions of us. Based on that alone, we’d want to be serious about it.

Still, when had she found the time to do all this?

“All right, who’s going first?” asked Haruhi.

Tsuruya’s hand shot up energetically; hers was the only one.

While Tsuruya was a force to be reckoned with, even she didn’t have X-ray vision. Blindfolded with a towel, she made a hilarious arrangement of her own features that caused the table to burst into laughter, and when she herself saw the completed portrait, she rolled over and nearly died. Not even a laugh bag could be so funny.

Next up was Koizumi, whose clever, handsome features were totally ruined. When the blindfold was removed and he saw the results of his work, he made a disappointed face—but I couldn’t really laugh, since my turn was up next.

I’d never felt so nervous playing fukuwarai. Just as I was psyching myself up for it—

“Excuse me for a moment,” Koizumi muttered to me. “I need to go speak to Arakawa et al about tomorrow’s arrangements.”

And with that, he left the common area. I didn’t know what he needed to meet with them about, but that wasn’t my problem at the moment. The fate of my clubroom portrait was in the hands of my own sense of spatial orientation.

My round of fukuwarai ended with a burst of laughter. Oh well. It would’ve spoiled the mood if I’d arranged a perfect face, I suppose. Hey—Tsuruya, you’re laughing a little too hard, I thought.

As I took off the towel amid Tsuruya’s and Haruhi’s cackling, I saw Koizumi return. Reflexively, I checked the clock.

It was just past two thirty.

“Pardon my absence.”

For some reason, Koizumi had gone somewhere and returned carrying Shamisen. What was he doing with that cat? I asked him.

“Ah, nothing. He was just following Mori around too much in the kitchen.”

Koizumi set the calico down on the cushion in front of the heater, whereupon the cat curled up in front of the warm airflow. Putting a well-fed cat somewhere warm is the best way to get it to behave.

“How did you do?”

Koizumi sat down next to me at the table and took a look at the proceedings. My little sister had inflicted her paste upon the portraits of myself, Tsuruya, and Koizumi. Surely there was something better than these to decorate the clubroom with—Asahina’s cosplay photos, for example.

Time passed, and the game of fukuwarai proceeded with Asahina, then Nagato. Asahina’s hands were charmingly hesitant as she felt around for the parts of her face, and in the end her portrait was just as charming. Nagato then completed a surrealist version of herself that absolutely slew Tsuruya. Nagato regarded her own work curiously, having no idea what was so funny about it.

As we continued to play—

“Excuse me, everyone—it will soon be three o’clock.”

Koizumi made his announcement.

“I’d like everyone to take a short break. I’ll need you all to stay here from three to four o’clock, so if you need to use the bathroom, now is your chance.”

Everyone left the room except Nagato, Yutaka, Koizumi, and me. Nagato continued to regard her fukuwarai portrait, while Yutaka watched her profile, seemingly amused.

I turned to Koizumi.

“When will the murder happen?”

“More important, take a look outside the window.” Koizumi pointed outside. “You can see that it is snowing, correct? Please remember that. If it hadn’t been snowing, I would have had to ask you to pretend that it was, but fortunately, things are working out nicely.”

As I was scrutinizing Koizumi’s easy smile, the four girls returned. Yutaka seemed like the most likely suspect to me. He had no other role to play, after all. Not that he was actually doing anything suspicious at the moment.

Haruhi sat back down at the hearth.

“Koizumi, let’s do that next. Get it out for me, will you?”

“Understood. That game, yes?”

Koizumi again went over to his rucksack. Wondering what handmade nonsense he was going to pull out this time, I followed him over. He rummaged around for a moment, then, looking back at me, produced a large sheet of paper by some sleight of hand.

“Please give this to Suzumiya.”

Koizumi handed me a large sheet of paper that was folded over onto itself; it fluttered slightly in the heater’s breeze. As I tried to open it, I felt suddenly uneasy. It wasn’t because of the big sheet of paper. There was Koizumi right in front of me, his hand on his bag, and next to it was the heater. Also there was Shamisen, sleeping comfortably away on the cushion.

There wasn’t anything strange about it, and yet something was off. Had Koizumi seemed nervous when I’d gotten close to him?

“Kyon, what’re you doing? Bring it over here!”

I reluctantly brought the mysterious sheet of paper back to the table, Koizumi following me.

The clock indicated exactly three o’clock.

“Koizumi and I made it!”

Haruhi’s pride seemed to hit a crescendo. It was written all over her face.

“It’s a board game just for the SOS Brigade! I drew every square by hand, so you’d better be grateful.”

Incidentally, the first square my piece landed on said this:

KYON ONLY—THIRTY PUSH-UPS.

Other squares said things like PLAY STRIP ROCK-PAPER-SCISSORS WITH THE NEXT PERSON WHO STOPS, or SAY FIVE NICE THINGS TO THE CHIEF, or ANSWER EVERYBODY’S QUESTIONS HONESTLY (AND EVERYBODY HAS TO ASK THE MOST EMBARRASSING QUESTIONS THEY CAN), and so on. It was a board game filled with Haruhi-style punishments.