The Sigh of Haruhi Suzumiya (21 page)

“That’s what Koizumi says.”

A cat talked. Meaning that you would need a reason to explain why it wouldn’t be strange for a cat to talk. The simple way to put it is that you would apparently need to reconstruct the world in a way so that talking cats wouldn’t be considered strange. What would that world be like? What would the cast be like?

Shamisen yawned and began grooming his tail.

“There are many kinds of cats. Isn’t it the same with humans?”

“It’d be nice if you went into detail about what your ‘many kinds’ exactly entailed.”

“What would be the point in knowing that? I doubt you could ever fully become a cat, much less understand the mentality of one.”

I’m fed up with every last one of them.

I was planning on taking a bath when my sister came to my room to inform me that I had a visitor.

I wondered who it might be as I went down the stairs. The one who had finally come all the way to my home was Koizumi. I went outside into the night to deal with him. It’d be a bad idea to let him into my room with his endless talking. And I sure as hell didn’t want to be faced with the prospect of being doubled up on by him and Shamisen in some incomprehensible discussion of the abstract.

As expected, Koizumi began babbling by himself about some kind of theory. He even said the following.

“Suzumiya has no interest in detailed background explanations or subplot. She simply goes with whatever feels more fun, and that’s enough reason for her. There is no rational resolution, careful composition, or fancy foreshadowing. You could say that she has created a rather transient story. She hasn’t given any thought to a resolution. It is possible that the movie may end unfinished.”

And that would be a problem, huh? Based on what you’ve said, if the movie ends halfheartedly, this messed-up reality will become our new reality. We have to force Haruhi to accept a conclusion in her mind, and that conclusion must conform to reality. And we’re the ones who have to come up with such a conclusion. Haruhi doesn’t think, and even if she were to, the result would always be chaos. If that’s the case, we might as well do the thinking for her. Still, why do I have to rack my brain for such a reason? Anybody out there who can shoulder this curse for me?

“If such a person were to exist…”

Koizumi shrugged.

“That person would have appeared before us long ago. Therefore, we must do something about the situation. I’m especially looking forward to your efforts.”

Efforts toward what? Start by explaining that to me.

“We have a problem with the world becoming fiction from a logical standpoint. Asahina may also have a problem with it. Her people follow their own logic. I’m not really sure about Nagato, but observers merely need to take in results. They will simply accept whichever theory wins out in the end. They have no problem with the Earth being blown to pieces, as long as Suzumiya remains.”

The outdoor lamp illuminated Koizumi’s business-like expression.

“The truth is that our Agency and Asahina’s factions are not the only ones with theories centered on Suzumiya. There are many others. I would love to give you a digest of the disputes and bloody battles to the death going on under the surface. Alliances and betrayals, sabotage and deceit, destruction and slaughter. A battle royal where each group must fight with all their strength to survive.”

Koizumi had a tired, cynical smile on his face.

“I do not believe that our theory is absolutely correct. However, I must accept it or I will be unable to continue in my current situation. I just happened to be initially placed on that side. I do not have the option of changing sides. A white pawn cannot switch to the black side.”

Use Othello or shogi.

“It has nothing to do with you. Nor Suzumiya, for that matter. It is better that way. I especially hope that Suzumiya never learns about it. I do not wish to cause her grief. By my standards, Suzumiya has a lovable character. Of course, you do as well.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Merely a slip of the tongue. There is no reason. Besides, I may merely be joking. Perhaps I’m being possessed by bizarre delusions. Or I’m simply trying to earn your sympathy. Whatever the case, it isn’t amusing enough to discuss.”

Yeah, definitely not amusing.

“I might as well tell you something else that isn’t amusing. I’ve come up with a theory regarding why Mikuru Asahina… excuse me, Asahina was sent to accompany us. As you know, Asahina appears to be a helpless, beautiful girl. I can understand why one would reflexively want to offer her help. You would probably accept everything she does in a positive way.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

It is the spiritual duty of normal people to help the weak and break the strong.

“Her role is to entice you. That is why Asahina’s appearance and personality are the way they are. A timid, adorable girl who just happens to fit your tastes. You are the only person Suzumiya ever bothers listening to. Having a hold on you would be the optimal course of action.”

I fell as silent as a deep-sea fish. I recalled what Asahina had said to me half a year ago. Not the present Asahina but the adult one who came from farther into the future. After summoning me with a letter, she said, “Don’t get too close to me.” Was she saying that because of her circumstances? Or was she expressing her personal feelings?

Koizumi took advantage of my silence to continue in a voice that sounded like an old Jomon Sugi was speaking.

“What if Asahina is merely playing the role of a clumsy girl and her true personality is something different? She judged that doing so would earn your sympathy. The same goes for her position as a poor little girl childish in appearance who has to suffer Suzumiya’s unreasonable demands. It is all done to attract your attention.”

This guy’s seriously lost his sanity. I attempted to imitate Nagato’s flat voice. “I’m sick of listening to your jokes.”

Koizumi smiled a minuscule smile and spread his arms in an exaggerated fashion.

“Ah, forgive me. It would appear that I lack the ability to carry through a joke. I was lying. It was just a crazy setting I made up. I just felt like saying something serious. Did you think I really meant it? If that’s the case, my acting skills aren’t too shabby. I’m starting to feel confident about stepping onto a stage.”

He continued after a grating chuckle. “My class will be performing Shakespeare.
Hamlet,
to be specific. I will be playing the role of Guildenstern.”

“Never heard the name before. He’s probably just a minor character, right?”

“Originally, that would be the case. However, as we progressed, we decided to switch to the Stoppard version. Which means I will have a much bigger role.”

Good job. I didn’t know there was another version of
Hamlet
besides Shakespeare’s.

“Between Suzumiya’s movie and this play, my schedule has been quite tight. It’s a lot of pressure. If I appear to be mentally tired, that would be the reason why. I’m pretty confident that I would collapse if a closed space were to appear. That is another reason why I came to request your aid. To please stop the abnormal phenomena being caused by Suzumiya’s movie.”

The rational-conclusion thing? You mentioned the whole it-was-just-a-dream thing.

“I have to make Haruhi realize that everything in her movie is made up—right?”

“It must be a clear understanding. She’s quite intelligent. She is well aware of the fact that her movie is fiction. However, she wishes that the world would become that way. We need her to clearly understand that it won’t. Before the filming is over, preferably.”

And after wishing me luck, Koizumi disappeared into the night. What was that? Did he come to shove the responsibility onto me? He already has a lot to deal with so I have to handle the rest? If that’s the case, he’s come to the wrong person. We’re not talking about the joker in Old Maid here. You can’t just push it around. And Haruhi Suzumiya isn’t the fifty-third card here. Not the trump card or ace in the hole either. And she’s definitely not the maid.

“But still,” I muttered.

I can’t just ignore all of this. Nagato aside, Asahina and Koizumi look like they’re almost out of hit points. The same may be true about the entire world for that matter, but I wouldn’t know.

“That’s a problem… I suppose.”

What a pain. Damn. I’m pretty pooped myself.

I tried to come up with a plan. How to deal with Haruhi’s delusions. A way to clearly make her understand that movie and reality are separate. What would be the method to make her accept such an obvious thing? It was all just a dream… or was there something else?

Only a little time remained before the cultural festival.

The next day, I made a suggestion to Haruhi. After some wrangling, she finally agreed to it.

“Okay!” Haruhi yelled loudly as she sounded the megaphone.

“Good work! We’re done filming now! Everybody worked hard! Especially myself. Yep, I’m awesome! Great job!”

Upon hearing those words, waitress Asahina plopped down onto the ground. She looked relieved from the bottom of her heart. So relieved that it looked like she might cry. In fact, tears were flowing from her eyes. Haruhi apparently took those tears to mean that she had been overcome by emotion.

“Mikuru, it’s too early to be crying. Save those tears for when you’re awarded a Palme d’Or or an Oscar. We’ll all be happy together!”

It was lunch break, and we were gathered on the roof of the school building. Tomorrow would be the cultural festival. We had been so short on time that we didn’t even have time to calmly eat lunch.

The final battle between Mikuru and Yuki ended with the sudden awakening of some unknown power within Itsuki Koizumi and the usage of that convenient power to send Yuki flying into the deep reaches of space.

“This is perfect. We’ve made an incredible movie! If we take this to Hollywood, we’ll have an avalanche of buyers. We should start by signing a contract with a skilled agent!”

Haruhi was cheerfully intent on going global. I had no idea who was going to watch this film, but the only selling point would be the leading actress, as nobody would want anything to do with the rest of the staff. In that case, I could tag along as Asahina’s agent and promote her. I could probably make a little money that way. And while we were at it, maybe Haruhi could try to become a gravure idol or something? I was willing to send in her photographs and background without telling her.

“So it’s finally over, huh?”

Koizumi smiled at me with a sunny face.

It’s pretty aggravating, but he looked best when he had that free-of-charge smile on his face. I don’t want to see a melancholic Koizumi. It would probably give me the creeps.

“But now that we’re finished, it feels like it was all over in an instant. They say that time flies when you’re having fun, but I wonder who was having fun in this case.”

Beats me.

“Can I trust you to handle the rest? I can’t think about anything besides our class play at the moment, since you aren’t allowed to retake lines the way you can in movies.”

Koizumi still had on his usual grin. He placed his hand on my shoulder and whispered in a soft voice, “One more thing. An expression of gratitude. From both my organization and myself.”

And with that said, he left the roof. Nagato silently walked off after him with her usual blank expression.

Asahina was with Haruhi, who had one hand around Asahina’s shoulders and the other pointing toward the ocean as they looked off into the distance.

“We’re aiming for a Hollywood blockbuster!” she shouted. Feel free to point, but if you cross the ocean in that direction, you’ll end up in Australia.

“Good grief,” I muttered as I set the video camera down and sat. It may be over for Koizumi, Nagato, and Asahina. But this is only the beginning of the end for me. There’s still something I have to do.

Somebody had to take the mass quantity of digital video I had filmed and somehow transform the accumulation of junk digital information into the semblance of a movie. And I’m pretty sure that I don’t need to tell you to whom that task would fall.

It was Friday evening. Haruhi and I were the only people in the club room. The other three were working with their respective classes.

It was great that we’d finished shooting and all, but since the filming had taken so long, we barely had any time left to do the remaining tasks. As I replayed the footage I had loaded onto the computer, I came to the conclusion that we would have to turn this into a Mikuru Asahina promotional video clip. Very simple.

To be honest, I didn’t even have the slightest pixel of an idea as to what kind of movie Haruhi was making to the very end. Are the waitress, Death-girl, and grinning boy on the monitor okay in the head? And naturally, there wasn’t enough time left to search around for visual effects, and I didn’t have that ability to begin with. We’d just have to screen the film without any processing or editing.

Haruhi grumbled, “We can’t display an unfinished work! Do something about it!”

Is she talking to me?

“That’s easy for you to say. The cultural festival’s tomorrow and I’m already exhausted. Editing this thing to fit the story you made up was the best I could manage. I probably won’t want to watch any movies for a while.”