It was the last bit of the final spring break of middle school, just before I would enter high school.

Although I had already received my middle school diploma, I was not yet a high school student, and I remember thinking that if I could, I wanted to stay this way forever.

Perhaps thanks to my mother sending me to cram school, I’d passed the entrance exams with a decent score—I was glad it hadn’t been too hard. However, the truth was that when I first went to the school for the preliminary inspection before the exam, the prospect of trudging up and down that hill every day for three years wasn’t a bright one. Incidentally, thanks to the way the school districts worked out, all of my friends from middle school were either going to a neighborhood public school or a far-off private academy, so like it or not, I was feeling pretty lonely.

At the time, I had not the faintest idea that as soon as school started, I’d find myself meeting a strange girl and being added to the membership of a bizarre brigade, so as I thought back over my middle school days and felt uncertain about my upcoming high school life, I was taking this all very seriously.

So it was that loneliness had taken over the greater part of my heart, so I amused myself by sleeping in until close to noon, going to farewell parties for my friends who were going on to other schools (parties that were really just video game tournaments), occasionally seeing random movies—but before long I got bored with all this, so after having a combination breakfast and lunch, I whiled away that random late-March afternoon lazing around in my room, considering just turning into a cow.

I slept, awoke, ate, and napped again. Eventually, as I lay there on my side, the sound of the house’s landline ringing reached my ears.

There wasn’t an extension in my room, so I just left it for my mom or sister to answer, and sure enough, soon my sister came into my room, bearing the cordless handset.

Thinking back on it, I now get the feeling that every time she comes into my room with the phone, it’s the start of something weird.

However, at the risk of repeating myself, back then I was yet innocent; I had a dire lack of experience points.

“Kyon, phone!” said my sister, beaming.

“Who is it?”

“A girl!”

My sister pushed the phone at me, giggled, then twirled around and skipped merrily back out of my room. That was weird. Normally she’d hang around until I kicked her out. I wondered what had her in such a hurry. But anyway, who could be on the phone? Scrolling through my mental list of faces and trying to find a girl who seemed likely to call me, I punched the answer button on the receiver.

“Hello?”

After a moment, there came, “… Yes, hello. Um…”

It was definitely a girl’s voice. But my search mode hadn’t completed yet, so I didn’t know who it was. It did seem familiar, though.

“It’s me, Miyoko Yoshimura. Is this a good time? If you’re busy…”

“Oh—”

Miyoko Yoshimura? Who was that?

I began to think about it as the scrolling in my head came to a stop. Now I knew why the voice sounded familiar—I’d met her many times. Her use of her full name had tripped me up. Miyoko Yoshimura’s nickname was “Miyokichi.”

“Oh, right. No, I’m not busy at all. I’ve got nothing but time.”

“Oh, good,” she said, sounding relieved.

I felt dubious. What could she possibly want with me?

“Are you free tomorrow? The day after is fine too. But it has to be before April starts. I’d like to borrow a bit of your time.”

“Er, are you asking me?” (*1)

“Yes. I’m sorry it’s so sudden. Tomorrow or the next day. Are you busy?”

“Not at all. I’m totally free both days.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Her soft voice had an honesty to it that sounded like it came from the bottom of her heart. “I have a favor to ask.” Miyoko continued, her voice sounding a bit nervous. “For tomorrow, just tomorrow, would you go out with me?”

I looked at my open bedroom door as if to chase the shadow of my sister. “Me?”

“Yes.”

“With you?”

“Yes.” She lowered her voice. “Just the two of us would be best. Will it not work out?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” She let out another exaggerated exhalation of relief, then spoke as though she were trying to contain her cheer. “Well, then, I’ll see you!”

I felt like I could see her bowing at the other end of the phone line.

Next she confirmed the time and place of the rendezvous, all the while taking care that it was convenient for me. “Got it,” I finally said.

“I’m sorry to have called so suddenly.”

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t busy,” I said vaguely to this girl who was evidently determined to be considerate to the end, then hung up. I got the feeling that if I didn’t hang up, there was no telling for how long Miyoko would insist on thanking me. That’s just the kind of girl Miyoko “Miyokichi” Yoshimura was.

I went to return the phone receiver to its place, emerging into the hallway. There I saw my sister waiting, cackling about something. I took the opportunity to push the receiver at her.

“Nyahaha!” She giggled like a maniac, waving the receiver around in the air as she left.

Worrying about my little sister’s future, I thought about the calm, reserved quality of Miyokichi’s voice. (*2)

Then, the next day came.

I don’t have any intention of writing all the details. To put it simply, that’s because it’s a pain. This is a story, not a business report or a ship’s log. And it’s definitely not my personal journal.

Since I’m the writer, I should be able to write whatever I like. And I think I’ll do just that, thanks very much.

When I got to the rendezvous point, I saw Miyokichi’s form as she walked rapidly toward me, having arrived earlier. Once she’d realized I had seen her, she gave me a neat little bow.

“Good morning,” she said in a slight voice, arranging her small purse’s strap on her shoulder and looking up at me, the movement of which caused her braid to sway a bit. She had a pale blue cardigan on over a floral-patterned blouse, along with fitted jeans. Her outfit suited her slim frame nicely.

“Hey,” I said in reply, and looked slowly over the surroundings.

We were in front of the train station. It was the same location I would come to be very familiar with as the usual meeting place of the SOS Brigade. But at that time, since I had no idea that in a few short months I’d be a member of a bizarre brigade and would be constantly dragged around by a crazy brigade chief bent on world domination, it all looked pretty normal to me. If anyone saw me meeting up with a girl, they wouldn’t have any reason to think anything annoying would happen. It’d never occur to you, would it? (*3)

“Um—” Miyokichi’s fine features seemed a bit nervous. “There’s someplace I’d like to go—would it be all right?”

“Sure.” That’s why I’d shown up, after all. If I hadn’t planned on coming along, I would’ve turned her down the previous day on the phone. And there was no reason for me to refuse her request.

“Thank you.” She really didn’t need to be this polite, but there she was, bowing again. “There’s a movie I would like to see.”

Sure, no problem. I’d even buy her ticket, I said.

“There’s no need for that. I’ll pay for myself, since I’m the one who asked you all the way out here,” she said plainly, then smiled. Is this what they mean when they say “a smile pure as the driven snow”? It was almost too innocent, though in a different way than my little sister’s.

Incidentally, there were no theaters in the area. Miyokichi and I headed back to the station, bought tickets, and got on the train. The film she wanted to see wasn’t playing at the big multiplex; it was a minor indie flick playing only at a small one-screen theater.

As the train swayed, she looked out the window, clutching a town guidebook in her hand. Occasionally, she would seem to remember something and look up at me, then give a quick little bow.

I wasn’t totally silent myself—I made reasonable conversation, but it wasn’t anything worth writing. It was just small talk. I remember talking about where we would be going to school in the spring, or what my little sister was like. (*4)

It was the same way once we arrived at our planned station and walked to the movie theater. She just seemed a little nervous. That nervousness continued all the way up to the ticket booth. (*5)

It was almost time for the next show to start, but there was no one lined up at the booth, which said something about the low attendance of the film. “Two students,” I said to the bored-looking lady on the other side of the glass when she looked up at us.