Note: This fic is a sequel to The Blunt Force Trauma of Suzumiya Haruhi.
Disclaimer: The novel 'Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuutsu'/'The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi' is the creation of Nagaru Tanigawa. I do not know the producers yet, but the animation company responsible is Kyoto Animation. No disrespect is intended by the posting of this fanfiction, as I do not own the characters or settings involved. I'm merely dabbling with another set of paints. ;)
Kunikida meets up with me on the long trek up the hill. We're both used to it at this point, or at least used to it enough that we can converse en route. "Any luck?" he asks me, sporting a wry grin.
"Some," I admit. "I suppose I must be very transparent to you."
"Not so much," he says, shaking his head. "It just seemed promising, you yesterday with.... Well."
"I feel like we're star members of a conspiracy, sometimes. Sorry about that student who was questioning you yesterday."
"It's nothing new," he says, waving a hand dismissively. Another student approaches behind us, and Kunikida immediately launches into a half-familiar ramble involving the transfer of goods from China to Japan. I nod agreeably, and shoot the student a stern, warning glance. He backs away, nervously cowed.
"I know exactly what you mean," I tell him with a shake of my head. "All too often." I note that all these annoying students are guys, but that probably means nothing.
"Say," Kunikida says quietly, his economic diatribe forgotten, "do people try and bother Suzumiya like they do us? You would think...." He trails off with an apologetic shrug.
"Somehow," I say, frowning, "I've become her spokesperson. Honestly, I'm surprised no brave students have tried it themselves. But, why not take a small blessing when it arrives?"
"Aha, too true," he agrees with a smirk. "Well, on to less depressing subjects?"
"Please," I say with a weary nod. I wish I could think of one of these less depressing subjects to speak of myself.
Kunikida looks thoughtful for a long moment, staring into space, though familiarity with the hill keeps his footing sure. "Hmm, well, there's a new arcade game at the mall near the school train station," he finally says.
That's welcomingly bland. "Is it a fighter? Or a racing game?" I ask.
"It's a samurai game," he answers with a shake of his head. "They give you a foam sword, and the game has sensors to follow when you swing. You fight all sorts of undead creatures, zombies and stuff."
That actually sounds a little bit interesting. Probably only briefly, as a novelty, but it's still a pleasant change of topic. "Maybe we should try it sometime?"
"Ehe...." He grins and scratches the back of his neck; he's a natural for that expression and pose. "I already did. It's alright. I'm not sure if it's worth as many yen as it'd take to finish it, but it's worth trying out."
I nod, realizing that in a roundabout way, Kunikida is trying to suggest that Haruhi might find it an interesting distraction herself. I wonder if, after the drama of Taniguchi, Kunikida's become more insightful. Stupid comment, I suppose. The sudden change of that event ... who wouldn't be affected by it, being so close to Taniguchi and never seeing it coming?
"I think I might check it out, then. Thank you, Kunikida," I tell him. In reality ... thank you very much, for helping me try to keep Haruhi entertained, even if you don't understand the true reason why.
Somehow, against odds and fate, I make it into class before Haruhi. I take advantage of the brief lull to write a message on a scrap of notebook paper asking Yuki-chan if she would meet with me tonight to discuss things. I can try and slip it to her during the club meeting, and if no chance arises ... I could try the shoe locker trick.
Though, really, it brings another unpleasant memory to mind when I consider that. Then I hide the note in my pocket as Haruhi enters. I can't miss the way her eyes go to my desk first, and a tiny bit of tension vanishes from her eyes. For once, she doesn't run off during the between-period breaks, and I'm grateful that I got the chance to prepare the note in advance.
When lunch rolls around, Kunikida looks at me pointedly. Haruhi seems conflicted, staring at her desk, half turned, as though she was going to get up, but nervous and uncertain if she wants to complete the motion. "Why don't we eat in the club room?" I ask her, when the same over-eager student from that morning pokes his head into the classroom.
Adjusting his necktie, Kunikida locks gazes with the unknown student, as though they are about to engage in a psychic battle to the ultimate destruction. My friend, your nobility will not go unsung, I promise you that. Your sacrifice will not be in vain!
Haruhi relaxes instantly, shrugging with that same, 'can't be helped,' expression. "Fine, fine," she says with a false-sounding note of irritation. "If you insist."
I won't, but I don't need to, now do I? We enjoy a companionable silence, the unknown student watching us go with surprise before nervously turning to face an expectant and stoically silent Kunikida. Once we get to the club room, I see that Yuki-chan is already there. Haruhi frowns slightly, but then takes a seat at the table across from me, not her chair behind the computer.
"Are you reading a story about ghosts?" Haruhi asks, glancing at the book in Yuki-chan's hands.
"Somewhat," Yuki-chan's soft voice replies, her eyes still fixed to the pages. I glance at the title, 'Bridge of Birds'. "The protagonists of this story have dealings with several ghosts."
"Well ... good. Another ghost story expert in the making," Haruhi decides, unpacking her bento. Strangely, I don't remember Haruhi bringing lunches to school very often. She almost always goes to the cafeteria, while I never do.
Some of the books from yesterday are still on the table, so I prop open one of the larger, heavier volumes of short stories. Haruhi glances at it, while I unwrap my bento. "How soon do you think we could organize a gathering to try the ghost story thing?" she asks.
"We could cheat," I offer. I really wish I'd thought of that sooner, but all the same, I hadn't learned any new ghost stories yet anyway. "Just bring a stack of books and read the stories straight out of them without learning any of them." I take a bite of my bento and grimace. I forgot; my mother is starting to teach my little sister the ways of the kitchen. I am, of course, the guinea pig.
"What's wrong?" Haruhi asks, ignoring my suggestion.
"Little sister's learning how to cook," I say sadly.
I push the rubbery, abused, heavily salted prawns around. The tempura batter is thick, almost raw in some places, while burnt in others. How did she even manage that?
Haruhi raises an eyebrow as she glances at the disaster area that is my lunchbox.
"Mom made the rice, so I won't starve. Ech, these vegetables weren't even completely steamed.... Anyway, what do you think about cheating on the ghost stories? Then it won't matter who learns what. If we get into a second, or third book, and there's a repeat story, we can spot it and skip to the next."
She looks thoughtful for a long minute. Yuki-chan closes her book and brings her chair to the table next to Haruhi, unwrapping her own lunch and eating it with mechanical motions at lightning speed. Only sparing the smaller girl a glance, Haruhi says, "That could work.... How about your place? On Saturday?"
Well, if I put it off too long, Haruhi will become bored. "Hmm," I mumble, considering. "If it works," and it will, "I would like to avoid alarming my little sister."
"My place may be adequate," Yuki-chan says quietly, between bites.
After a few bites from her own bento, Haruhi asks, "You're sure you don't mind?"
Yuki-chan immediately answers, "No," and then finishes off her lunch.
"Well, that should be perfect! Okay, then. Your place on Saturday night. People should show up...." She trails off, looking thoughtful. "We should all get there around six in the evening. Everyone will need to make sure they get enough sleep, too, I want to try and get to the hundredth ghost story between two and three in the morning, for maximum effect!"
Yuki-chan nods slightly, but otherwise her attention is focused completely on her book again. I'm unable to avoid smiling. For once, Haruhi is encouraging adequate rest.
In many ways, lunch with Haruhi was reserved, almost idyllic. It was a refreshing change from her high-powered antics, but I admit, just the tiniest bit unsettling to see her so calm. A trend that I've been trying not to make observations of since Taniguchi, of course. But enough self deception.
At any rate, even though it was relatively pleasant, there were no chances to slip Yuki-chan the note, so I have to settle for the undesired shoe locker method. My primary concern is actually that I will be seen ... and word of it will get back to Haruhi. After the club meeting, as I close the locker door bearing the name 'Nagato', satisfied in my stealth mission, I turn to see a familiar face.
Kunikida stares at me with a raised eyebrow. "Really?" he asks, his expression largely unreadable.
Caught! Damnation. Well.... The truth, or at least some of it, will get me out of this. "It's not all that it seems," I say with a shake of my head. "Ah.... Hmm."
He smirks and changes shoes; more students fill the area, and we say nothing until we're headed down the slope of the hill. "So?" he asks, his expression somewhat bemused now.
"In all honesty, this business with Haruhi right now extends far beyond my reasonable knowledge," I explain. "So, I am asking for assistance. Obviously, I don't want to appear to be the kind of guy who can't do anything on his own."
Kunikida snickers. "Even if you are that kind of guy?" he jibes. "Asking one strange girl for advice on another.... Well, that's not the worst idea in the history of ideas."
Thank you for your candid endorsement. "Don't misunderstand."
"Right, right," he says, still smiling. "In reality, this is none of my business. I have no right to know, just some curiosity, and a vested interest because.... Well."
Vested interest? When did this happen?
Shifting gears, Kunikida tries, "If I might ask, how was your lunch?"
"Better than expected. Not as good as hoped." A woefully generic reply, but the truth, considering my current indecision. "Yours?"
"Our antics have backfired," he says, shrugging with a helpless, hands out gesture. "I've been invited to become a member of the Economic Studies Club."
I blink at that. "Really?"
"Yes. It's not so bad. They genuinely are interested in discussing the economy, as dull as that might seem. Embarrassingly enough, we seem to have stumbled across what they consider to be strong insights." He shrugs again.
"How tedious." I wish I could be happy for you, but this hardly sounds like cause for celebration.
"It's not all bad," he says with a wry smirk and a shake of his head. "There seemed to be an unspoken agreement that certain topics outside of the economy are not open for discussion. And...."
"At least there's that. But what of this mysterious trailing 'and'? I somehow expect this ties in with your earlier 'vested interest'."
"Ehe, I was hoping for some of your luck to rub off on me, maybe," he allows. "Eimi-chan is already in this club. I hadn't known. But I suppose if you're asking Nagato-san for advice, you don't know as much as I hoped."
A brutal, pointed insight. "It's not for lack of trying," I say, somewhat irritably. And anyway, who is this 'Eimi-chan'? Then I remember that we are brothers-in-arms, and add, "Though, to be honest, any luck I have is unlikely to translate well to your case."
"Zing!" he announces. "Well played, Kyon. Very true. Well, I don't know what will happen, but I think I'll give the club a try. With you finding, erm.... Well, anyway, you're busy a lot lately, so I should keep myself occupied as well. This whole ... thing ... it's enough to drive someone to hide from the outside world."
"Don't turn hikikomori on me," I warn him, raising a fist in mock threat.
He laughs, shaking his head and spreading his hands in a placating gesture. "No chance of that," he assures me. "If you and Suzumiya have the strength to soldier on, then it's the least I can do to follow suit. Ah, well, another day of the hill defeated. See you tomorrow, Kyon."
"Take care," I return, nodding at him.
It's somewhat embarrassing to admit, but I realize that lately, Kunikida has been a better friend than I gave him credit for. Too bad there's so much I can't talk to him about.
Well, hopefully Yuki-chan can help shed some light on the subject.
Yuki-chan meets me at the same park bench where she waited for me, once. She's more prompt than I was, and I rise as she approaches, nodding at her. Her inscrutable gaze studies me for a long, unblinking moment, then she gives that tiny nod she uses and turns around, heading towards her apartment building. I fall into step behind her wordlessly.
We remain in silence until we reach her apartment, and she prepares some tea. After pouring me a cup -- I carefully don't finish it right away -- she asks, "What did you need to discuss?"
To the point. "Um.... How should I ask this? It's an awkward question. I'm in a difficult situation, but it might be one you have some sympathy and understanding for," I say slowly.
"Hyakumonogatari kaidankai?" Yuki-chan asks in a whisper-soft voice.
"Eh, we could discuss that later," I say, looking around the totally empty apartment. "This is embarrassing, and it might come across as insensitive. If so, please forgive me, and if I trouble you, say one word and I will be silent."
Yuki-chan blinks at me. After a moment, she says, "Words are still a weak transmission vector for critical data. It is unlikely any data you have access to could harm me."
Ah. Spoken like Yuki-chan. I try not to cringe. "Um. Yuki-chan ... you've determined what I'm up to?"
"Becoming a more stabilizing factor for Suzumiya Haruhi," she answers, without hesitation. "Setting conditions and circumstances in motion so that you and Suzumiya Haruhi would be paired entities."
"Yes," I say hesitantly, frowning. "Something like that. I feel it's the right thing to do. That it would be better for us all."
"Harmonious," she judges after a moment, blinking.
So cold? "But ... I'm concerned that I've lost my free will in the matter."
Yuki-chan blinks several times at this, cocking her head slightly to one side, as though it had never occurred to her. "I observe sympathy within our situations," she murmurs.
"You may have the right of it," I say with a shrug, sipping at my now cooled tea. Yuki-chan freshens it for me wordlessly. "Maybe it's stupid. I shouldn't be so selfish in the face of ... is it arrogant to consider it my responsibility?"
"You were chosen by Suzumiya Haruhi," Yuki-chan answers, her expression shifting back into her blank unreadability.
"Ah.... Well. I'm conflicted. I know what I feel I must do. But I'm afraid ... I'm giving up on myself for it. That I'm surrendering myself to Haruhi, I guess. Maybe that's not it...."
"You do not wish to be a subset of Suzumiya Haruhi?"
Not when you word it like that! "Well ... as things stand right now, isn't that somewhat the case anyway?"
She gives that tiny nod she uses. "I may understand."
The silence drags on.
"Do you have any advice?" I finally ask her, when ten minutes and two more cups of tea have passed.
She blinks at me, hints of genuine surprise visible on her face before she looks away. "Your own course with Suzumiya Haruhi seems adequate. The data thought entity expects that without outside interference, you will most likely achieve your goals."
"That's not it," I protest, grimacing. "I meant about the other part. About not truly having a choice in the matter."
"If you were to reverse your present route," Yuki-chan says after what seems like a long moment of thought, "it is likely that Suzumiya Haruhi would destabilize. The Taniguchi event has made you a significantly more critical element of her emotional and mental well-being."
"So ... I don't have a real choice. And I do have to do the right thing by ... uh, following my present course."
Nagato ducks her head slightly, lips pursed thoughtfully. I don't think I've seen her so expressive in a very long while.
I catch myself quickly, and add, "If this is difficult, we don't need to discuss-"
"No," she says quietly. "I am uncertain about assisting you directly in this situation. As you have observed, I lack many common social elements." She blinks once, and adds, "As does Suzumiya Haruhi herself."
Yuki-chan? Uncertain about anything? That's unsettling. Then again, this is the topic of Haruhi and relationships, so I can't really fault her.
She spends some time contemplating, her eyes fixing on some far-away point, before she says, "You have the power to make your own choices. I am instructed to inform you that differing schools within the...." She frowns, the statement incomplete before she starts over. "Differing factions within are concerned that your stabilizing effect on Suzumiya Haruhi may prevent future creation of new data."
"What would the data thought entity want me to do?" I wonder.
Her eyes focus on me again. "Irrelevant."
I blink at that. "What?"
Yuki-chan's eyebrows draw the tiniest bit closer together and she says, "You are not subject to the demands of the integrated data thought entity."
I stare into my teacup, frowning. "I guess that was a stupid question, if I'm complaining about not having a choice," I admit. With a sigh, I add, "If this isn't a stupid question, too, what happens if I don't do anything? If I just ... wait for Haruhi to get sick of my inaction?"
"Possibilities are divided. The two most significant futures down that path are Suzumiya Haruhi becoming detached from this world and its populous, and Suzumiya Haruhi's despair prompting drastic data-creation to make a more suitable world."
I ponder that, too. Either the world as we know it is destroyed, or Haruhi stops talking to people entirely and withdraws into herself?
"Putting aside the integrated data thought entity," I finally ask, "what do you think?"
Yuki-chan's expression shifts back into blank neutrality. "I believe in you," she says in her serious dead-pan voice, her eyes locked onto mine. "Whichever route you choose, it is your choice."
I spend more time, just thinking. Yuki-chan continues to stare at me. In that other world, when I thought I was alone, until I was able to 'restore' Yuki-chan from her backup.... In that world, everything else I may say aside, I saw the greatest display of emotion from Yuki-chan I'll probably ever see.
Things were far too tense for me to enjoy it as I would have liked, at the time. "I'm sorry, Yuki-chan," I say abruptly. "I should have been more considerate about this. Thank you for listening to me, anyway."
She shakes her head minutely. "No problem."
I rise, ready to leave but still hesitant. "I don't know what's going to happen next, but ... we're friends. So, if I can do anything to help you, let me know, alright?"
"Yes," she says, rising to her own feet. "I will walk you to the lobby."
While we're in the elevator, alone at this hour, I can't think of anything to ask or say. In retrospect, I didn't get any advice for dealing with Haruhi beyond being told I was doing an adequate job. I suppose I should be satisfied with that.
"Asahina Mikuru may have insight to share as well," Yuki-chan says to me, as I step off the elevator. I turn around and look at her in surprise, but she has that same unreadable expression, before the door slides shut, hiding her from view.
I am decidedly uneager to begin the trudge up the hill when I get there the next morning. I find myself dazedly staring at the street, my mind blank and refusing to focus. A slap on my shoulder sends me wobbling before I stagger and shake my head, smacking my face with my hands to try and wake myself. "Hey," I begin, turning and falling silent in surprise to see Kunikida.
He stares at me in consternation, then shakes his head. "Sorry, I thought maybe you were waiting. You look terrible, Kyon. Did something happen?" he asks.
Ah, genuine concern. Good old Kunikida. "You don't want to know," I say companionably as we slowly begin the trudge up the hill. In truth, I got almost no sleep, tossing and turning, trying to build plans and then realizing how stupid they would be. Then more time considering what Yuki-chan said and wondering if I could ask Mikuru for help.
It was painful enough to realize that Yuki-chan's feelings might have been hurt, as little as she shows it. For Mikuru, who wears her heart on her sleeve....
"That bad?" he asks sympathetically, seeing my tired and depressed visage.
"No, not that bad," I say, trying to banish my dark mood. "I stayed up too late last night, after missing dinner, too. When breakfast came around, little sister was trying again. Some of it was edible, but not much ... and leftovers of that are all I have to look forward to for lunch. This neglect from my family, it borders on the criminal!"
"Speaking of breakfast," Kunikida says, looking away politely, "you've got a few grains of rice stuck to your face."
Embarrassing. After fumbling for a long minute and not finding it, I give up on my handkerchief. Using only my hands, I brush my face off as best I can. "Got it?"
"Go it," he assures me. "Anyway, I'm sorry to hear that. Hey, I could...." He trails off with a glance over his shoulder, then shakes his head abruptly. "Well," he says slapping me on the back again, "I'm sure you'll be okay."
"Ah, I'm too hard on her," I sigh. "I'm sure in a few days ... or weeks ... she'll have the basics down. I just can't help but think that a few more years would have helped her better."
"Is she even tall enough to reach the top of the stove? Or the cutting board?"
"She needs a stepping stool."
"Haha! Kyon, at the risk of being critical, sometimes your life sounds like a romantic comedy anime."
"I'm not sure that follows, but if you're trying to reduce my life to an anime genre, you're one to talk," I jibe, glancing at him. "How's everything working out for you lately, Great Economist Kunikida?"
"Haha!" he starts to laugh, before a girl I don't recognize approaches timidly, and he cuts off with a choke. "Ah.... Um, Eimi-cha-- Er, ah, I mean, Yamada-san! Good morning."
I rub the sleep from my eyes and study her covertly. Meaning nothing critical to Kunikida, Yamada Eimi is very short ... which means she's somewhat shorter than him. I can kind of see the attraction. She's pretty, in a subtle, somewhat mousy way, a bit smaller than Yuki-chan, and has big, round-lensed glasses, the upper edges of the frames almost completely hidden by her curly, pale bangs. The rest of her hair is in a neat bun, so I'm uncertain as to the length.
To be brutally honest, I would put Yuki-chan, Mikuru, and Haruhi above her. I don't have a grading system, like someone who I'd rather not think of. But that's a matter of personal preference, and I don't have any reason to question Kunikida's judgement. Her voice is soft, but not quiet; I suddenly think she might be a fairly talented singer. "G...good morning, Kunikida-kun," she says, not meeting his eyes, blushing slightly. "You can call me Eimi-chan ... I don't mind that at all."
Right. Enough of that.
I fake a reaction to seeing someone ahead. "Ah, I think I see Asahina-san. Forgive me, Kunikida, I must abandon you here; we have club business to discuss."
He starts to form some sort of protest, so I bow my head in apology briefly before jogging up the hill towards the phantom Mikuru. I catch Yamada asking him, "Kunikida-kun, what did you think about the club meeting yesterday? About the part concerning overseas trade, and the impact of...."
I'm not sure if I should be happy for him, or worried. Well, my silent prayers go to you today, Kunikida. God speed and good journey.
A short distance up the hill, quickly becoming winded due to the combined stresses of exhaustion, hunger, and good old gravity, I actually do spot Mikuru. Waving to her, I manage to call her name, and she turns to greet me with her traditional bright smile. "Good morning, Kyon-kun!" she chirps. "How are you doing today?"
"Quite well," I reply, "but a bit worn out. How about you? Read any good ghost stories?"
Her bright smile fades a little. "Some of these stories are scary," she mumbles.
"I personally think we've been through scarier."
She giggles at that and nods. "You're probably right," she agrees.
I slink into the classroom and collapse into my desk. It's only after I sit that I glance back and realize that Haruhi isn't there. Kunikida himself only darts in and takes a seat moments before the bell. But no sign of Haruhi.
Usually, after an unintended all-nighter, like the day before the cultural festival, I would try and find some place quiet to sleep. Or just doze through most of my classes. As much as I'd like to, not knowing where Haruhi is keeps me too worried to rest. Unfortunately, as per usual, I'm not really able to focus on the lessons, either.
When break comes, Kunikida approaches and says, "Well ... thanks, Kyon. I guess you've met Eimi-chan, now?"
I nod tiredly, unable to avoid glancing back at Haruhi's empty desk. "Well, I've seen her," I say, rubbing my face. "Obviously, we haven't been introduced. Hey, I don't suppose you would know where Haruhi is?"
Kunikida gives me a guarded expression, then grins. "I don't think you should worry too much," he says.
An evasive answer? Kunikida, I expected better from you! "Well," I say with a sigh, "we're friends. I suppose I'll take your advice as sound and reasonable." Though if you know something I don't....
What am I saying? As Haruhi's unofficial spokesperson, how could I expect him to know more than me? Still, he nods, gives me a smirk, and retakes his seat as the next teacher comes in.
A moment later, but still hours late for class, Haruhi steps in as well, wordlessly handing the teacher a note. The teacher scowls at her and gestures to her desk. Haruhi impassively takes her seat behind me. I'll ask what it was about later; for now, since I know where she is, it is time to sleep.
I wake with a start at the lunch bell, to see a teacher glaring down at me. The fourth period teacher, not Okabe-sensei, or the teacher that Haruhi followed. He gives me a murderous, 'You got away with it this time' look, and shakes his head while making a chastising 'tsk tsk' noise before heading out into the hall.
"Not my best moment," I sigh aloud, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"Hey," Haruhi says insistently, "your friend Kunikida already bailed. Let's go to the clubhouse."
"I'm this exhausted with no real food, and I have to trudge all the way to the clubhouse?" I moan. "Alright, alright...."
Haruhi snorts, and I sleepily follow her to the club room. So what if I take a while to wake up? There is nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying my sleep.
Though, class may not be the best place for it. I'm mostly awake by the time Haruhi opens the door. At least awake enough to realize that Yuki-chan isn't there. Haruhi locks the door for some reason, but I slump into my usual chair without remarking it, unenthusiastically dropping my lunch on the desk. I'm exhausted and starving, and I love my little sister dearly ... but I am not eager to eat that lunch.
Sorry, little sister. I have faith you will learn to cook, and probably very soon. Embarrassingly, you're probably better than I am already. But for now....
My ruminations are interrupted as Haruhi, not meeting my eyes, slides a bento across the table to me. "Here," she says.
I sit up straighter. "What about your lunch?" I ask.
She shakes her head minutely and sets her own on the table. "I've felt like making bento this week instead of having cafeteria lunches," she says with a shrug. "And, anyway, I had to return your handkerchief."
My mind is in turmoil. Is this what made her so late? She was doing ... well ... something so cute and traditional? I admit. This facet of her personality is staggering and unexpected. "What's with that face?" she protests.
"Ah," I say, shaking my head quickly and remembering Kunikida's comment about my life turning into a romantic comedy anime. Please, if there are any non-Haruhi gods watching, don't let that be true; the main character's love interest inevitably cannot cook. "I'm just surprised," I tell her, unwrapping the bento. My handkerchief is wrapped in the covering cloth, beneath the actual bento itself so it won't get stained or marked.
She snorts and unwraps her own. "A...anyway," she says, "what kept you up so late last night? I overheard-- Er, I heard you didn't get much rest."
First of all, let me comment that it looked good. I could imagine that Haruhi had the skill to be a good cook. Why not? She's good at everything she tries. Settling for the cafeteria must simply be because she doesn't care to cook usually. Words may not do this bento justice, and I'm not speaking from any particular bias. Well, any bias I'll admit, at least.
And of course, she hadn't forgotten our plans to tell ghost stories. Onigiri shaped like somewhat goofy lantern spirits. Sliced pickled vegetables cut like Pac-Man ghosts. A sausage and an egg carved to look like the traditional, hooded western ghost. Tiny one-eyed umbrella ghosts made out of yakisoba. Small fish-cakes cut to look like attendant spirits around a larger ghost. In the middle, a tiny bowl of dark, fine noodles; a reference to Okiku's long hair emerging from the well? The nine round mushroom slices, and one cut in half with a jaggedly sliced 'crack' nail that one home. I confess, I have never before seen something that looked simultaneously so overwhelmingly cute, and at the same time, so massively unsettling.
So unmistakably Haruhi.
I spend a very long time staring, probably at least a minute, before I manage to say, "This is quite possibly the most amazing bento I have ever seen. It would almost be a shame to eat it."
Haruhi, who I almost never compliment, blushes, turning to look out the window. "Well, I can't have brigade members collapsing because their families won't feed them properly."
"I apologize for destroying this work of art," I say, trying not to look at the goofy faces as I pick up a piece of onigiri.
"Flattery won't get you special treatment, you know," she mumbles, with minimal conviction. Still, I should watch what I say; I'm certain she won't go for the straightforward attempted 'romantic' approach, anyway.
I munch it cautiously, but of course, my fear is unfounded. Haruhi is indeed a skilled cook. If my otherworldly experience of Mikuru's cooking is accurate, Haruhi is better. It pains me to admit this, because anything graced by Mikuru's touch is a wonder. Haruhi smiles softly, not looking straight at me, and picks at her own lunch.
While we eat in this pleasantly companionable silence, I have time to ponder. Ponder and put the clues together. Kunikida seemed to know what was going on ... because Haruhi was behind us at the train station. While I stood there, staring and zombie-like, she overheard my explanations of exhaustion and remembered that she still had my handkerchief. While she tried to pass it off as inconsequential, she had gone all the way home from the school train station, just to make this lunch.
This is an odd feeling. Gratitude for the meal is only a tiny fraction of it. Something approaching awe at her cooking skill, that may be been a component. And ... well. Even I must admit that this personal effort from her, just for me, was endearing.
Don't look at me that way.
Anyway, once I finish the last delicious, disturbing morsel, I bow my head to her. "Thank you, Haruhi. I'm in your debt."
"I...it's nothing," she says quickly, shaking her head. "I could have made more, and the egg didn't turn out as well as I liked-"
"It tasted fine," I tell her, smiling. "I'm no less grateful."
"W...well.... I hardly got to treat you to much, when we talked about...." She shrugs. "Anyway, you didn't tell me what you were up last night with?"
Nothing I would want to bring up here! I can tell her something semi-truthful, at least. "I was thinking about our plans for Saturday night," I answer. "It's only...." I stop to count in my head. "Two days away."
"That's true!" Her blushing demeanor vanishes, and she is instantly the chief of the SOS Brigade again. "We'll want to get big, long-lasting candles. Have you seen Nagato's apartment?"
I sidestep this obvious trap. "We know the building it's in, don't we?" I answer, frowning. "I'm not sure how big it actually is." I've never really looked in any of the other rooms in her apartment, so that much is actually true.
"She's probably got bookcases everywhere," Haruhi muses thoughtfully. "Well, hopefully there's enough room for the candles without any trouble."
"We can make our first dozen stories very short," I suggest.
"How, if we're reading them blindly from books, like you suggested?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't think that one through?"
"Some of these volumes are labeled 'short stories'," I point out, glancing at the few books still on the table.
"Hmm. You think that shorter stories will still work?" Her expression is now somewhat skeptical.
"Probably. If you think about it, one hundred long ghost stories would take so long the sun would come up."
"Good point! Well, you're proving your worth as our ghost story expert!"
I snort at that, but a glance at the clock shows we've spent most of our lunch. "Ah, we should get back to class, though."
She reluctantly nods. "You're right," she agrees, as I pocket my handkerchief and wrap the empty bento up, handing it back to her.
That strange, but not entirely unpleasant day moved quickly. Despite, dare I say it, such a seemingly picturesque encounter with Haruhi over lunch, last night's conversation still weighed on me. And that meant, despite my best efforts, that once Haruhi and I returned to class with a meal sitting in my belly and demanding blood pressure from my head to aid digestion, I quickly succumbed to sleep again.
Some of Haruhi's astounding skill at not being noticed by teachers rubs off on me. This doesn't occur to me until Haruhi pokes me in the back with a mechanical pencil, waking me up a few minutes before physical education. Then the thought of a teacher turning to wake me, and Haruhi's watchful, predatory eyes locking on that poor teacher enters my head, and the image haunts me until the period ends.
From the point of view of the teachers, the most eccentric girl in school, glaring angrily at anyone who dared approach.... Sleeping beneath that gaze, even if only imagined, is terrifying. Who knows what side-effects it could have? I told Haruhi that she really had 'beamed' confidence into my head. What if that escalated in her mind?
Well, I can jump off that bridge when I get to it.
Physical education is girls vs. boys soccer. A brilliant decision for the class, sensei -- Haruhi wins, of course, making sure to bounce a few soccer balls off my slowly lurching form. After finally being rotated to the sidelines Kunikida approaches me. "Hey, Kyon," he says, sitting not far away. "Enjoy your lunch?"
None of your business! What kind of lies are you trying to perpetuate?! Insinuating that-
Anyway.
"I didn't have to endure my sister's cooking," I answer, nodding.
"Is that all?" Kunikida asks, quirking one eyebrow.
"There's more to it. But how about you?" Turnabout is fair play.
"Ah, well," he says, looking away. "I think I've got a way to go, compared to you, but I can't complain."
Kunikida, I thought we were friends. Can we talk about anything else? Absolutely anything?
"Anyway, I've been studying up. So, judging by the recent trend of economic policy shifts...."
...right.
Author's notes: I cut about a third of the original draft off this. Sleep-dep makes me write some terrible stuff.