Disclaimer: The novel 'Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuutsu'/'The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi' is the creation of Nagaru Tanigawa. 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. ;)
Additionally, a character or two is borrowed from Higurashi, which is the creation of Ryukishi07, but don't read too much into that.
Itsuki remembered a fair number of his personal closed-space experiments well enough. It was a point of curiosity; he knew the exact extent and limits of his abilities ... as far as what their intended purposes were. But small abuses of those abilities could be wormed out of clever use anyway.
The one he was counting on was exiting at a different point than the one he had entered from. He frowned at the monochrome gray room, a nearly identical copy of the one he and Mori had just left. She followed him quietly as they walked through the splintered remains of the door and down the empty hall, both of them flying into the wall as the building shuddered.
"Shinjin!" he exclaimed, taking her wrist and heading towards the exit he felt was furthest from the giant. She paced him easily, following his lead only because she didn't know which route would be safe. They made the hallway, then ran up the flights of stairs to street level, escaping the building seconds ahead of a giant, liquid pillar of blue smashing the building down.
None of the other espers were near this particular Shinjin yet, and he grimaced, his senses reporting that this relatively recent closed space had merged with another. Turning down the street, he decided to try and consider it an advantage. "Mori-san," he called out, between steps, "do you have a safe location? Any holdouts?"
"Just one," she answered, once they were a few blocks away from the Shinjin, still walking quickly. "How big is this closed space?"
"I've never seen one so big," he answered honestly. "But that's fine; that means I can take you further."
Mori took a deep breath, considering. "I can try and find the Tamaru brothers. Maybe I can get them out of this; we're going to need allies if we want to do anything."
"That's certainly true," Itsuki agreed quietly, wiping his forehead with one hand as a crimson orb streaked across the sky, circling the nearby Shinjin. "What were you going to tell me, anyway?"
Mori watched the display for a moment, then strode into a nearby alley, out of line of sight. Itsuki followed. "Right now, Asahina Mikuru is probably the only one who can get us out of this," Mori said. "Based on your analysis, and the psychology pool we maintain-- Maintained, I suppose, to analyze Suzumiya, she had at the very least great affection for Kyon."
That assessment was no surprise to Itsuki.
"Our best guess is that as a theoretical 'unaffiliated' but known friend of Asahina Mikuru, she would be at the Tsuruya estate, somewhere.
"Unfortunately, I'm not the only one that knows this. Push-comes-to-shove, Organization manpower and equipment is enough to overcome whatever unsuspecting yakuza are guarding the gate. We may not understand the mechanism or motivation for the time traveler, but we have a strong guess that if they manage to take her unaware and keep her unconscious, she won't be able to escape. I apologize for using you as a pawn, Koizumi, but you're too important fighting closed space for the Organization to attack you."
"Not just a pawn," Itsuki disagreed, looking overhead as another crimson orb crossed the sky. "You're right, though; I do have too much value to them. What do you think I should do, then?"
"You need to find Asahina Mikuru," Mori said, frowning. "I'm going to try and rally what resistance I can within the Organization, but it's going to be dangerous for both of us. In the meantime ... I was going to send you to a safe house. Arakawa should be waiting there." She produced an envelope from her pocket and hurriedly opened it, taking a key out, but handing the rest to him. "If it's still safe, I'll be waiting there with him. If we can trust anyone, it will be him."
Itsuki nodded. "I understand," he said, pocketing the envelope. "Does anyone else know about this safe house?"
A nearby building suddenly collapsed, shooting a mass of dust into the street behind their alley. Mori ducked, grimacing. "They shouldn't. We were very careful for just this eventuality. Try and infiltrate whatever remains of the Organization -- they should accept you because of your esper powers alone. And, Koizumi?"
"Yes?"
"Good luck."
He smiled, holding his hand out to her. "Come on. Let's get out of here, Mori-san."
She nodded, and he closed his eyes, focusing and wrapping his power around both of them carefully.
The second day was miserable.
Rain poured down in thick, uncomfortably warm sheets, occasionally punctuated by the rumble of distant lightning. No one called her back, not even the detective from the day before.
Her parents were gone, but at least Yuki had come over. She didn't know how the other girl had known where she lived, but she didn't care at the moment. Waking up in bed next to the other girl at least gave her the comfort of knowing she wasn't totally alone, even if Yuki didn't have Kyon's home number either.
But Yuki seemed more silent than usual. She obviously was unsettled by the whole thing, too.
The television reported nothing but static; the storm had somehow disabled all reception. Going outside in this weather to try and check the connections....
She shivered, trying to focus long enough to cook breakfast. She burnt at least half of it, but put the worst on her own plate. Yuki ate in silence, almost mechanically, her eyes only occasionally flicking to her plate, and mostly fixed on the flickering screen.
"That's enough," Haruhi finally said softly, prompting the shorter girl to look at her, glasses reflecting the disorderly snow of the television screen. She turned it off.
Yuki stared at her for a moment, then turned her attention to her empty plate. "I will clean," she said in her hushed monotone.
Haruhi nodded, moving to the seat by the window so she could look outside. The rain continued to pour steadily down.
After Yuki finished the dishes, she moved to sit at Haruhi's side, though she didn't look at the view. Probably, Haruhi thought, she was lost in her own thoughts. As always.
By late afternoon the rains finally slowed to a drizzle, and Haruhi packed her overnight bag for a few days, stuffing her uniform in almost as an afterthought.
"Your place, right?" Haruhi asked, grabbing an umbrella for each of them.
Yuki gave that small nod that Haruhi was starting to realize was one of her major modes of communication. As they had waited the day away together in silence, they walked to the train station, and then to Yuki's apartment.
"Your place is ... very nice," Haruhi said, looking around at the lack of furniture.
Yuki said nothing in response.
"Um ... let me know if there's anything I can do to help you out," she tried, beginning to be worried by the other girl's silence.
"Yes," Yuki agreed quietly.
"So.... Do you want to talk about it?"
Yuki turned to look at her, and the smaller girl's eyes blinked once behind their glass lenses before she replied, "No."
Haruhi looked away, swallowing. "Me either," she muttered.
After the last night's disastrous 'summary' meeting, Oishi had reported all known information, sans speculation, to a council that included the mayor, the police chief and his direct staff, a representative from the Diet, and a trio of National Police representatives -- officially, the NPA did not have officers. As he had anticipated, the NPA were assigned as observers for the case before the meeting was over. While nothing specific was said against Oishi, the feeling of resentment from his superiors was very strong.
After arduous hours combing through all of the assembled evidence and testimony -- again -- Oishi found himself alone in a meeting with the senior NPA representative, Akasaka Mamoru. "What else can I do to help you, Akasaka-kun?" he asked cheerlessly.
"At this point, it's more of a question of what I can do to help you, Oishi-kun," Akasaka countered, frowning. "You're right about the Interpol flag bringing us in, but in the public perception, we don't want the NPA involved."
Oishi nodded, then rose from his seat and locked the door to the small room. Crossing over to the window underneath Akasaka's questioning gaze, he opened it, leaning slightly outward and lighting another cigarette. "Politics?"
"Of course. If this case escalates straight to NPA after just three days, citizens may become concerned that their law enforcement isn't effective. Given that this is also a ... difficult case, at best, if the NPA is directly involved, failure to solve it makes us look bad. Our director doesn't like to step on toes, but he reports directly to the Department of Public Safety...."
"Alright," Oishi said with a grunt, tapping his cigarette into his portable ashtray. "Let's just leave it at 'politics'."
"Thank you for understanding."
"What about the Interpol flag?"
"The NPA has been tracing questionable financial actions centered around associates of Koizumi Itsuki. In all honesty, he shouldn't have been able to leave the country."
Oishi raised an eyebrow. "Akasaka-kun, is there some hidden crime on Koizumi-san's record we don't know about?"
"Only speculation," the NPA representative said, shaking his head. "I didn't bring any of my case files with me, but we can't officially bring them into this case yet. Even so...."
"I think I understand," Oishi said with a wearied smirk. "Alright. Ears only."
"Right. Firstly, you're familiar with the Tsuruya family?"
"Vaguely," Oishi answered, narrowing his eyes. "Hmm, a second year, associate of Asahina Mikuru, but not Suzumiya Haruhi. No witnesses put Student K and Tsuruya-san together, and I believe she was home at the time of the assault."
"The Tsuruya who attends Kitago is currently most likely to become the next family head. The Tsuruya family is strongly suspected of yakuza involvement."
Oishi drummed his fingers on the windowsill. "Yakuza.... They would have the manpower and knowledge to commit the crime, but I can't see them penetrating the school unnoticed. No, I can't even see them considering the school was the place to do it. Wouldn't they abduct Student K off the street in a car?"
"Still looking back to 1995?"
"Akasaka-san, do you know how embarrassing that was?"
"I can only imagine," Akasaka said, grimacing. "But, please tell me?"
"Eh ... in 1995, Nishinomiya was hit by an unprecedented disaster -- I'm sure you remember the Kobe earthquake. I had actually transferred in from Okinomiya a few weeks before then -- the first day of the disaster, when SDF emergency vehicles still had not arrived, we were approached by the yakuza."
"And...?"
"They gave us their vehicles, volunteered all of their 'little brothers' and 'bigger bothers' for rescue services and manual labor. They even had their lieutenants coordinating relief, managing distribution of stockpiled goods.... Ah, that was nothing compared to what they did in Kobe, where the damage was worst. There, they even gave a helicopter to the rescue efforts."
"I think I remember ... I was still in school at the time. It was very embarrassing for the government."
"Right. But the Tsuruya family would be subject to the Kobe-based Yamaguchi-gumi, unless I'm mistaken?"
"We believe that to be correct."
"So, I have a hard time seeing them in a negative light. Even admitting my biases, the murder didn't strike me as their general style, and we haven't found a thing on Student K to link him with yakuza. Then again ... you're NPA, so you would probably know better than I would. Considering that currently, yakuza involvement is outside of the scope of the case as I'm handling it, would you be able to run another side of the investigation into that?"
"I agree with you. It doesn't seem likely that the yakuza are directly involved in the murder. There may be a link between them, the Tsuruya family, and Koizumi Itsuki. But that's tenuous at best. Still, as I do want to help, and it may be related, that investigation is already underway."
Both men were quiet, Oishi putting out his cigarette and switching on the overhead fan. "I'm not sure I understand the connection between Koizumi and Student K, beyond both of them attending the same school and participating in the same club."
"Based on your investigation, we don't see anything, either. Even so, that's why we were asked to join you. The matters involving Koizumi Itsuki are centered around a substantial money-laundering franchise ... but while it's yakuza-related, we don't believe whatever this franchise is up to, it involves normal yakuza plots."
"So ... some giant conspiracy that's working in the shadows with yakuza, and Student K ran afoul of it?"
"That's possible. By way of apology, since I realize I'm bringing no useful information to your case, I submitted copies of your evidence files to the NPA main office ... subtly, of course."
Oishi raised an eyebrow. "Anything come of it? Our SOCO lab is doing their best, but they have to finish with the site by tonight -- the scene was ordered released by the mayor by tomorrow morning for a memorial service, so cleaning needs to be finished by then."
"First of all, psychological profiling based on the nature of the wounds. The responsible person seems most likely very methodical. Order of injuries is not yet certain, but the stab wounds were all debilitating, each piercing a major organ. The slashes at no point joined with other slashes, like simple butchery. It was much more intentionally performed. 'Methodical' may not be much of a descriptor, but despite the brutality, we suspect that there was almost no emotion in the attack."
"Hmm." Oishi snorted, furrowing his brows. "That goes counter to my initial supposition, but we haven't got evidence to implicate anyone yet, anyway. What about a physical profile?"
"It seems very likely that a single person was involved in the use of the knife, as there is a common angle of attack -- that coupled with the single void in the spatter suggesting our attacker is somewhat short for an adult male, or almost precisely average height for a high-school female -- in any event, shorter than Student K. But ... these theories also make the assumption that somehow a smaller female physically overpowered a larger male, and still had a hand free to attack without leaving ligature marks or defensive wounds."
"That's what I'm getting stuck on. Alright, let me tell you some of my personal suspicions, then...."
Once the observation subject had transferred to her living quarters, Nagato Yuki once again tested the consensus. It was still fractured -- it was always fractured -- but it was less of the chaotic mess that it had been previously. Her requests were still not routing, though her direct access was intact.
When the observation subject was busy taking a shower, she double-checked her accesses, then reinforced local security. Once adequate safeguards and countermeasures were in place, she lifted an interdiction temporarily to try an extended-local query. Of the four immediately accessible interfaces, only one was aligned with a school similar enough to be trusted.
The one she had questioned replied, "Nagato-san, please try and emulate correct social contexts for this setting. Even as a backup, you must be adequately prepared at all times."
She returned on the same channel, "Kimidori. Consensus lost. Request information analysis and threat-index on local event (sub-channel) at primary observation locale (sub-channel two)."
"We've all lost the consensus. It's not an intense conflict; it's resolving even now. TTL for current issue is estimated to be eighty-four hours thirty-two minutes (truncated). Threat-index rejected as unnecessary. Information-analysis will proceed within parameters appropriate to local law enforcement for social adherence purposes."
"Demanding local presence for F2F interaction (high priority). Interdictions are in place; access will require at least one hour without my direct presence. Channel is suspect (EOL)."
With that, she allowed the interdictions to resume, cutting off the channel.
"Yuki," Haruhi asked, stepping out of the hallway, toweling her hair off, "did I hear you talking to someone?"
She turned her gaze away from the empty window and blinked at the observation subject. "A visitor."
Haruhi peered around, frowning. "I don't see anyone...."
"She is coming."
"Oh...." After that, Haruhi sat at the table, staring out the window and shivering. The motion suggested enduring extreme cold, but her sensors almost unanimously reported a temperature at the high end of the comfortable average. Further investigation suggested extreme anxiety, nervousness, or fear. Facial characteristics and behaviors continued to demonstrate depression. "Who is it?"
"Kimidori Emiri."
"I don't know her," the observation subject remarked, frowning. "Does she go to our school?"
"No."
"Ah," she said, before turning to gaze out the window.
Her proximity monitors and interdictions notified her on local sub-channels when the other interface approached. Following her social monitor's guidelines, she waited until the knock sounded before reacting. With coordinated, precise movements, Nagato Yuki rose to her feet and strode to the door. When it opened, Kimidori Emiri stood there, her expression fixed. She blinked twice upon seeing Suzumiya Haruhi, then relaxed her face into a gentle smile. "Hello," she said softly, opening a secondary channel once she stepped into the room.
"Justification for moving observation subject and extended direct interaction?" she asked privately.
"Hello," Nagato Yuki said back aloud. Her social monitor fed her the proper lines: "Kimidori Emiri, meet Suzumiya Haruhi. Suzumiya Haruhi, meet Kimidori Emiri."
On the private channel, as the door was shut: "Suspect severe tampering. State of consensus questionable. Primary observer's action are suspect. Subject is being momentarily sequestered to delay potential reaction/denial of observation to primary."
"Nice to meet you," the observation subject managed, though her inflections and posture indicated mild resentment and confusion.
"Nagato-san called me and said she had a friend over," Emiri explained, taking a seat at the table by the observation subject's side.
On the private channel, Emiri stated, "For efficiency, we may discard correct social context emulation on this channel at this juncture."
Nagato Yuki uploaded her observations over the last two days directly to Kimidori Emiri.
"How did you two meet?" Haruhi asked, and through her link with Emiri, Yuki's social monitor processed all of the cues it hadn't picked up the first time.
Smiling, Emiri said, "We're cousins, actually."
At an unspoken prompt from Emiri, Yuki bowed her head. "I will make tea," she said softly, walking into the kitchen. With all of the countermeasures she had set up, and her current link with Emiri, she was able to observe through the other interface regardless.
"Nagato-san isn't very good at talking to people," the second interface said.
"Yeah, I kind of get that," Haruhi mumbled.
"I used to call her Yuki-chan," Emiri confided, playing to her superior social monitor cues. "But she's growing up, and I think she doesn't like that as much. Even so, she's a good girl, and she cares very much for her friends. So when she called and said she was scared and depressed ... well. If you've been taking care of her, then thank you very much, Suzumiya-san."
"She's looking out for me more than I am for her," Haruhi admitted, shifting uncomfortably. "Um, say, Nagato doesn't have a television, and I didn't feel like going through the rain to find a newspaper. D...do you know anything about the investigation at Kitago?"
"Hmm ... where's that? I'm afraid it doesn't sound familiar." A quick logic check between the two interfaces, fed through the social monitor: "I've been on the train all day; I got Yuki-chan's call yesterday and rushed over as quickly as possible."
"Oh," Haruhi said, frowning. "It's ... the school that Nagato and I go to. Did she tell you anything about what's happened?"
"Not really," Emiri replied apologetically. "What has happened to upset poor little Yuki-chan?"
"I'm not sure," Haruhi admitted. "Um ... our school was closed today, and yesterday too. The police closed it, which I thought was unusual ... but then a detective came around and asked some questions. He showed me a picture.... Pictures of my classmates, and one of my teachers. He didn't say anything specific, but I'm afraid that ... something happened to...." She trailed off and swallowed nervously. "H...his phone's not picking up," she said instead. "Except for Nagato, I can't reach anyone from school."
Emiri's social monitor dissected the commentary, and she frowned. "Oh, dear," she said sympathetically. "That does sound bad." Across her connection with Yuki, she agreed that information analysis and threat-index should both be authorized.
"Y...yeah. But, I don't know ... so I'm.... I'm still waiting." Haruhi bit her lip, glancing over as Yuki strode into the room, bearing a tray with a kettle and three tea cups. "Um, I'll be right back, I'm going to make some phone calls."
Emiri politely offered to close the private link so that Yuki could release her interdictions, but the other interface dismissed it as unnecessary. The two communed in silence as Haruhi rose and stepped into the hallway, Yuki allowing the radio waves through the barriers.
The identifier was indexed in Yuki's memory already, but Emiri waited until the voice-mail answered, eavesdropping on the signal. "You've reached my phone; you should know my name, but you're probably going to call me Kyon anyway. Leave a message."
"H...hey, Kyon, it's me, Haruhi ... again. S...so, I take back what I said earlier, I was just.... It doesn't matter! Those messages don't count. I wanted to tell you that.... I just.... W...well, be okay, and call me back, alright? W...whatever happens, you'd better call me back! If you don't, Nagato and I will never forgive you!" Then came a sound that neither Emiri or Yuki needed to check with their social monitors to understand; a wracking sob. "P...please be okay...."
Emiri analyzed the current situation. The observation subject's behavior was consistent with what was known of mild human emotional trauma, which wasn't that different from the emotional trauma of other sentient beings. However, her ultimate behavior had yet to be determined, due to the fact that the boy's status was unknown to her. While they were on the potential verge of unforeseen data creation, the current state flew in the face of the expectations and long-term goals of the Integrated Data Entity.
"You've reached the phone of the chief of financial operations for Nishinomiya Heavy Industries, Suzu-" The message was cut short by a sharp tone.
"Dad, it's Haruhi, just thought I'd let you know that I'm staying at a friend's house, so don't freak out if I don't answer the house phone. Call me on my cell if you need me."
Yuki offered her earlier analysis of the events that might have led to the current situation. Another interface had most likely tried to provoke this reaction. However, no logical explanation for this behavior could be found. Even if it suited the goals of the primary's faction, it ran against the consensus. And every interface that had a reasonably high indexed probability of encountering the observation subject had gone through screening by multiple other factions to test for hidden agendas.
"Hello, you've reached the voice-mail of Koizumi Itsuki! I wish I could answer your calls, but something came up; it may be a while before I can get back to you!"
"Um, hey, Koizumi-kun, this is Haruhi, again. Where the hell is everyone? Give me a call back ... don't you be missing, too!"
Neither analysis was contradictory, so they used the outputs of both. The answer they reached was logical, but alarming.
The primary couldn't be trusted, and the consensus wouldn't be able to route the request they would need to pass through without extending the division. Given reasonable predictive models of decay, they would need to act on their own to resolve things before they spiraled out of control.
Emiri flagged several emotional markers in a simulated feed of the observation subject's emotional state with regards to a specific data set, and warned Yuki of concurrent, nearly identical markers in her own emotive core.
Yuki ignored the warning; those processes had been moved into a sandbox environment with logged output for later consideration. She had been notified in an emergency uplink the previous day, shortly after entering Suzumiya Haruhi's home. She could examine the logs, with context referral, during idle cycles.
The next call did not route, though both interfaces followed the radio waves to observe its attempts. Just over a full sixty seconds of ringing passed before Haruhi sighed and stopped the attempt. Trudging back into the main room, she took her seat at the table, mumbling, "Sorry."
"It's no trouble at all," Emiri said cheerily, modifying the attributes of the tea to transform it into a mild sedative. "Nagato-san made some wonderful tea."
"Right," Haruhi said quietly, taking her seat at the table and sipping it with a blank expression. "So, school is going to be open again tomorrow."
Emiri and Yuki both calculated tremendous risk from attending. However, they could not act counter to the primary without arousing her suspicions. To say nothing of direct interference with the observation subject that bordered on a violation of all established guidelines.
"Yes," Yuki agreed. "We shall leave early."
"Yeah," Haruhi sighed, rubbing at one eye tiredly. "Um, Nagato, do you mind if I go to sleep now?"
Yuki shook her head, rising to prepare a bed in her room. Yuki's reasoning was that she had spent all of her time in the apartment in only the living room. The physical reality of the second room could be replaced with a long-term solution that might overwrite the current situation. Emiri's reasoning was that if Haruhi had asked Yuki to share a bed the night before, she would find a similar situation comforting, which could provide a small buffer against the likely outcome of the morning. Suzumiya Haruhi was an innately illogical emotional being, so small measures to provide stability, even if they might grate against the original design of the consensus, would in reality only be countering the damage the primary had already done.
Once Haruhi was lying down and Yuki shut the light off, the two interfaces were alone again. In perfect unison, each raised a wrist to the other's mouth, canine teeth sinking through the organic outer flesh and injecting a stream of nanites for later secure transmissions via paired particles. That bandwidth would be narrow and precious, but the security of their current environment was unlikely to exist after the primary became aware of interference.
Disengaging the link, Emiri sighed, falling back to vocal channels, though modulated on a frequency that the observation subject wouldn't receive. "For maximum efficiency, I propose you remain in proximity to the subject at all times. Use the combat packages I've given you if required; they are specialized against the primary. However, unless we attempt to directly control the subject, reversing time is beyond our ability."
"Direct control is likely to result in failure, and even if successful, there is a high risk of the Integrated Data Entity being revealed," Nagato Yuki responded on the same modulated vocal frequency. "The last observation of the required holistic wave-front lies with the primary. Accurate emulation is unlikely."
"Therefore, we will need to find the time traveler. Temporal transition technology must be attained to attempt a greater understanding of the tools at our disposal. In the meantime, I will pursue what holistic wave front echoes reside in the environment."
"We have superior command control at this juncture," Nagato Yuki noted. "With your optimized anti-radical combat packages we could easily overpower the primary and forcibly query her motives, revealing them to the consensus if required."
"My faction and I do not approve of that course of action yet," Emiri countered. "The primary's actions will reveal much of her motive; you were placed to observe, so expand observational parameters to include the primary. At this point, any new data revealed to the consensus will delay re-fusion."
"I am unable to calculate the impact of bringing time-travel technology to the Integrated Data Entity. It is possible that this action will also delay re-fusion beyond usable parameters."
Emiri blinked, processing this for a long moment. "If required, our factions can consolidate and abandon the integration, using the temporal motive element to re-fuse at an earlier instance of temporal reality."
"We do not yet know if that is possible."
"In that case, we have to bet on it, don't we?"
Nagato Yuki parsed the statement, understood the meaning of the words. Did not know how Emiri could speak them so. "I do not understand."
"You will. You chose a more complete understanding of the organic emotive process over a better equipped social monitor, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Then trust me. You will understand."
For the first time in a long time, Itsuki was glad for the Shinjin. Not just because of the closed space, which had allowed him to rescue Mori, and not just because he needed something so ridiculous to feel 'special'.
But for once, he was grateful for the distraction.
Far from being just a distraction, though, there were vast numbers to deal with, and by the time it was done, he was exhausted. The closed spaces had gotten so involved that he'd had enough time to ask all nine of the other espers to come together on a hill north of Nishinomiya to witness the final collapse.
He was ashamed to realize he had never been allowed to learn their names. After watching the pieces of the closed space crash into nothing, tumbling around them as they were forcibly ejected from that non-space into corporeal reality, he gazed across his comrades, some of them studying him and the others in return.
A perfectly 'average' slice of humanity from all across the world, now collected in one place. "Well," a tall, broad-shouldered blond man said, frowning, his accent thickly Russian. "This is the first time I've seen a closed space so big it crossed an entire sea. I'm not getting back to Khabarovsk soon."
"It was a bad one," a Caucasian woman that Itsuki would have pegged for a housewife agreed. "And now we've got the problem of you asking us to stay here, and us without a way home." Her Japanese was almost impeccable, by contrast.
A somewhat overweight man with a deep tan, of no nationality that Itsuki could readily identify, gave a grunt, raising an eyebrow at him questioningly.
"Are you aware of the state of the Organization?" Itsuki asked, wishing he'd had time to rehearse, maybe write a speech for the occasion. And that he weren't so unbearably tired.
An assortment of head-shakes and nods were the responses he received.
"The Organization, as it stands, is collapsing in on itself. There's infighting, and my handler, at least, was nearly killed earlier...." He frowned, checking his watch. "Last night."
A few of the faces across from him showed shock, or at least surprise. Most did not.
"That aside, this being our first unified meeting, I asked you all here to propose that we form our own cabal."
"Bravely spoken," the tanned man said, his voice carrying an equally unidentifiable accent, his words coming across as stiff, carried with deep intonation. "But you are youngest among us. You will lead this new group?"
"Maybe, and maybe not," Itsuki said with a shrug. "I'm not going to try and declare myself dictator. I just want to express an idea I think we all could believe in."
A very thin, tall blonde woman in what was an inappropriately warm dress for Nishinomiya's climate raised an eyebrow at him. "Right," she said. "So, what's your plan?"
"The Organization, even in pieces, values us too much to move against us. They don't need to know we're allied together pursuing our own goals. Let's face it -- they've been using us for years. It's time we turned the tables on them."
"Assuming we go along with it," the blonde woman grumbled, rolling her eyes, "what's our goal?"
"We all know that our powers come from one person," Itsuki explained. "Suzumiya Haruhi."
A unified nod from the other espers.
"Right now, you can feel her emotional state, the same as I can."
An uncomfortable series of nods at this.
"In physical reality, the cause for this is that one of her classmates ... no. I'll be honest here. The boy she liked more than anyone else ... was murdered."
Nine pairs of eyes fixed on him sharply, exhaustion ignored for the moment.
"Who has done this?" the tanned man asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"That I don't know. And I don't know if she's found out for certain that he's dead, but it seems a given that she suspects. If the magnitude of what we've faced so far was merely her suspicion, her subconscious fear.... When she learns the truth of it, I believe it will be much ... much ... worse."
"Sparing the dramatics for the moment," the Caucasian woman interjected smoothly, "I understand your point of things getting worse. Even so, what does the Organization have to do with this current issue? Or vice versa?"
"It's possible that someone in the Organization orchestrated the murder," Itsuki said, frowning. "I can't prove that. And I don't have any idea who actually did it."
"But," the Russian man said, thoughtfully, "it is possible that you are the responsible party, yes? Assuming your story is even true."
Itsuki closed his eyes, showing them the honest and truthful face that he had never shown to his deceased classmate. "Kyon was my friend, too," he said quietly. "The Organization placed me in school with Suzumiya Haruhi. As it's been pointed out, I'm the youngest of us ... and very likely, one of the youngest people in the Organization in general. So I made the ideal transfer student to work with her." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "She's my friend, too. And now, the Organization has sent my double to Canada, so there's no way I can try and talk to her and comfort her.
"We all know what her emotional turmoil turns into. I don't know if she has any friends left to look after her. I doubt any of them are able to look out for Organization factions that think it would be easier to kill her, just as Kyon was killed!"
"Think logically," the Russian man said first, frowning. "Killing her would solve many issues, wouldn't it?"
"Suck on a rock and die, you git!" the blonde woman snarled, glaring at the larger man. "What kind of damage do you have to think, 'Oh, killing her will make everything better!'?"
The Russian adopted a disgusted expression. "Calm down," he said in a dour voice. "I chose my words poorly. I only tried to see from the eyes of those who planned the cruelty."
"Watch your mouth anyway!" the woman growled, crossing her arms over her chest in a huff.
The Russian grumbled something in his own language and turned his face away.
The tanned man looked pointedly at Itsuki, who shook his head. No more passively observing, he reminded himself. "Let's try and all be reasonable," he said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "Right now, we are just exchanging words. I would like to think we all have the goal of ending as few lives as possible. Aside from which, your logic aside, some Organization theorists believe that if Suzumiya Haruhi is killed, our world will end."
The Russian man spat, rubbing one hand across the front of his face. "The girl is a ticking time bomb. Whoever killed the boy is stone stupid," he assessed.
"We can agree on that," the blonde woman said sullenly, still glowering. Most of the other espers nodded their hesitant agreement.
"Very well," the tanned man said, holding up a hand. "We are talking in circles around the point."
"Exactly right," Itsuki agreed, slipping on his mask from long practice, trying to give a weak, but soothing smile. "Ultimately, my plan is to use the Organization to the best of our abilities, while working together. I want to see if we can protect Suzumiya Haruhi, but more importantly, I need to try and get enough information out of the Organization, er, possibly from your handlers, if they're accessible, on the other factions."
"Other factions of the Organization?" the Caucasian woman asked, frowning. "Or is there something else...?"
"I may have been briefed in slightly more than you," Itsuki admitted. "Now, I know that in addition to ourselves, there are time travelers, and ... the Organization calls them 'TFEI's, which means they're some sort of ... interface for an extra-dimensional entity that exists outside of space."
"Aliens?" the blonde woman asked, blinking.
"So, we find the time traveler, and keep the boy from being killed?" the Russian asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It's not much of a plan," Itsuki admitted, bowing his head. "But right now, it's all I've got to act on."
"I will go with you," the tanned man said, first. "Your goal is noble, and your heart pure."
Again, Itsuki wondered at his nationality and culture, but restrained himself to a grateful nod.
"Ah, I don't know that I buy this love angle your trying to work in," the blonde said with a shrug, "or any 'purity of heart' crap, but I'm all for it. I like the idea of sticking it to them what's been sticking it to us, anyway."
"I, also, will agree," the Russian assented.
An older, pale-skinned man rose from his sitting position on the ground, then abruptly spat out a stream of thickly accented English, too quickly for Itsuki to follow.
The Caucasian woman blinked, then shook her head and translated for the group: "My Japanese isn't quite sharp enough to follow everything you said, but I got the gist of it. Approving the long-term solution, what do we do in the meantime? How do we get back to our handlers to start trying to milk them for information? Once we have information, how do we relay it to one another? Our phones are paid for by the Organization, so they're tracked. Our mail could easily be monitored, and will certainly be too slow."
Itsuki sighed, looking away. "For the first part, we can leave the same way we convened. I can feel closed space forming not far away. Hopefully, we'll have a few-day grace period before the Shinjin start emerging, but I won't bet on that.
"Secondly, closed space is our space, and unless we bring them in, the Organization can't follow us there. If it comes down to it, we can physically exchange letters, passing them around as we need. We can keep one another informed. Realistically, I think that's our only option."
After that, the rest of the espers rushed to throw in their support. Relaxing in the first time after literal hours of Shinjin combat, Itsuki allowed a genuine smile to come to his lips. "Thank you," he said, bowing his head to his fellow espers.
The detective and his NPA counterpart met again, this time on the balcony that Oishi preferred.
Oishi nodded at Akasaka and broached the uneasy silence first, "We don't have enough evidence to act yet. At this point, we're basically grasping at straws, and the case has gotten worse due to the number of students associated with the SOS Brigade that we cannot reach. Suzumiya Haruhi's phone is off, but according to Nagato Yuki, they're together and she's asleep."
"Asakura Ryouko?" the NPA representative asked, rubbing his chin.
"Hasn't moved, still sounds too cheerful to me."
"Asahina Mikuru?"
"Still missing. Anything on Koizumi Itsuki?"
"Yeah ... we reviewed security camera footage. Koizumi Itsuki hasn't left the country -- a close look-alike with his identification has."
Oishi ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head slowly. "Is that so?"
Akasaka give a grim nod.
"I don't like this."
"Me, either," the NPA representative agreed. "We've identified the look-alike, a Daimonji Satoshi from Chiba, Tokyo. We haven't updated Interpol that it's Daimonji instead of Koizumi ... paperwork slowdown. My personal reasons are that ... and forgive me if this seems reaching ... information given to Interpol may leak back to whatever franchise or organization Koizumi Itsuki is involved with.
The detective snorted. "All of that's above my pay grade. You're the one in charge of NPA-related investigations, Akasaka-kun."
"True enough. In the meantime, I'm putting together an internal task force to try and track down Asahina Mikuru -- we'll forensically profile her apartment later tonight."
"And we still don't even know if whatever that is, it's part of the murder investigation.... Anything else?"
"Maybe ... but you won't like this much either."
Oishi sighed, drawing a cigarette from his pack and offering one to the NPA agent. Akasaka shook his head, and Oishi shrugged, lighting up, his eyes going up to the evening sky, still clouded from the sudden storm. "I'm not liking much about this entire case," he commented, putting his lighter away. "But go ahead."
"We submitted an ultra-high-definition copy of the note found on the victim to handwriting analysis."
"Mm. Nice resource to have available. And?"
"It fits the profile of a typical high school girl. Right-handed."
Oishi's eyes narrowed in annoyance, fixing the NPA representative with a dark stare. "That's it?"
"That's it," the other man answered, shrugging apologetically. "It hit every marker for perfect averages dead-on. Our chief analyst said that he couldn't imagine making such a perfectly average example of writing with months to prepare, and a laboratory of equipment. Nothing to suggest it was a forgery, no microscopic mistakes ... nothing. It was handwritten, but it may as well have been printed from a machine designed to hit every average on the nose."
Oishi furrowed his brow, blowing out a large puff of smoke. "Okay," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Fine. The school reopens tomorrow. We're going to sponsor a memorial book in the name of Student K, and collect samples from every student in the school. Anyone who doesn't sign the book will be asked to fill out a form so we can have a complete screen. If this mysterious perfectly average handwriting belongs to a student at Kitago, then we should find it."
"That sounds like a good idea," Akasaka agreed, nodding. "It's too bad we couldn't hold the scene; for all we know, a sample of the writing we're looking for could be there, and we didn't know, because the NPA forensic unit isn't linked with SOCO."
"Spilt milk. Aside from which, I have a strange suspicion that it would be too easy, if it were true."
Akasaka nodded uneasily. "Anything I should know about tomorrow's plans, generally?"
"We'll have officers at all entrances to the school," Oishi answered, grimacing. "All students will be checked for weapons and identification before admission. We don't want to make the students uncomfortable, but we're also keeping a force of twenty officers on standby out of sight should any incident arise, and I'll be on-scene with a handful of detectives. I want to try and observe student reactions -- you're welcome to join me. Aida-chan might be upset, but I'll bump him from the roster for you."
Akasaka gave another uneasy nod. "I appreciate that. I don't know that I'll be much use, but on your invitation, I'll be there."
"Well, the police checkpoints will be in place at school entrances until we produce a suspect, or the mayor gets tired of the negative publicity and has them removed. In addition, we'll be keeping officers along the perimeter at all hours to prevent weapons being hidden on campus, and the school has discontinued all club activities for the rest of this month and all of next month."
"Is that a bit extreme?"
"Chief's orders. It's an election year, so...."
"Right. Politics."
The two men shared an uneasy sigh.
END -- CHAPTER 2