Artwork by sarsaparilla
Disclaimer: The series begun with the light novel 'The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi'/'Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuuutsu' is the creation of Nagaru Tanigawa. No disrespect is intended with the creation of this work.
He had initially thought of his plan as being clever -- exceptionally so, for him. In hindsight, it had ended up an unintentional ambush, of sorts. In his defense, she worked late, which meant they were also meeting late. The sun had already vanished over the horizon, allowing what few stars could peek through the light pollution to shine dimly overhead.
Sasaki had agreed she'd find out when she had the time to meet with him again, and that it was his choice on what they would actually eat. It had seemed fair, considering that she'd picked what they ate last time, and that she'd settled the check. But at that hour, many places were already closing, and even in the places that would remain open, privacy might be difficult to come by.
So he'd driven to a take-out okonomiyaki place in the downtown area of Ashiya and then phoned her up and asked directions to her apartment when they were supposed to be meeting.
Even though he'd never been there, his phone was able to figure out the route, and her apartment came with an unused parking spot, which she assured him he could use -- as she wouldn't. Then he'd been distracted thinking about what they'd discussed last time, so he didn't think about it half as hard as he should have. She was undoubtedly under the impression that he was just going to be picking her up, not surprising her at the door with a bag of take-out.
She answered the door with a smile, dressed in an outfit that he expected would blend in with the others he'd seen worn in the downtown district earlier that day -- an understated walnut gown that matched her hair nicely. "Ah," she said with a start, seeing the bag in his hand. "I seem to have been caught unaware!"
"Well, it would be my fault," he said feebly, shrugging. "I did manage to get this before they closed for the evening, though."
"While unexpected, dining in would quite possibly be much more reasonable," she replied with a soft chuckle. "I am certain we could account for ourselves if pressed, but some of our topics of discussion might be a bit strange, to some ears. What better way to assure privacy? In any case, you are welcome within, though I must warn you that it's not much."
He ducked his head in response, holding the bag out as though it were a better or more fitting gift than it was. She accepted it as he stepped in, kicking his shoes off -- she was still wearing her slippers.
"I don't have any guest slippers either, I'm afraid," she added, looking -- for Sasaki -- mildly embarrassed.
"Again, it would be my fault for not better explaining my intent," he answered, looking around. "I should not have presumed...."
"No, you're a friend," she countered. "I have been somewhat remiss in preparing for a visit from a friend, haven't I?"
"I can't think I would be any better prepared," he determined. "So in that regard, we would be equal."
"And so, both blameless?" she mused wryly, catching his implication.
He nodded affably. "That sounds perfectly reasonable to me."
Housing in Ashiya of almost any sort was generally considered quite fine -- and Sasaki's apartment was no particular exception, though it was smaller even than his own. It was, however, minimal in the extreme.
The only table she owned was a small affair pressed up against the one wall of the kitchen area that wasn't filled with counters or cabinets, with a single chair. There was no sign of a kotatsu, and beyond the shoes in the entryway, and a windbreaker hanging on the back of the door, almost no personal effects at all.
There was a small entertainment center with a television on it, but judging by the layer of dust on the screen, he wouldn't have been that surprised to find out she had won it in a contest, or it were a gift from either her work, or some grateful client.
After setting the bag of takeout on the kitchenette's small table, Sasaki looked inside, seemingly relieved to see the disposable chopsticks that had come with the rest of the containers.
"I'm afraid I don't have any cushions," she added, "but if you give me a moment, a futon will make do."
"Let me help," he offered, as she headed to the closet where it was stowed.
"Very well," she agreed, showing him where it was. The two of them had it rolled out before the inert television quickly enough, and then it was time to sit down and enjoy the meal.
"Ah," she started, opening up one of the flat containers and seeing the food inside. "I'm not particularly sure I can recall the last time I had okonomiyaki. I don't recognize the name of this restaurant."
"I found it while walking downtown at one point," he answered with a shrug, his eyes lighting on what seemed to be the room's only genuine personal touch. The inclusion of the television seemed to remind him more of a hotel than an apartment; the space didn't feel much like a home at all -- just a temporary stop.
Somehow, the single chunk of stone sitting on the simple entertainment center in front of the television only underscored it. Beyond that, all of the normal signs and mementos that he would have expected from visiting someone's home were absent.
"I wasn't sure what you'd prefer, so I got a small selection," he added. "I think you got the seafood one? There's also two beef, and a vegetable okonomiyaki."
"I apologize for the sparse decoration," she said, noting his distraction.
"Well, there's that," he remarked, gesturing to the stone with his chopsticks before taking one of the takeout containers for himself, careful to be mindful of spilling it. If his guess were correct, then the futon they were using as a seat was actually her bedding.
She swallowed her current mouthful of grilled batter and sauce, before nodding thoughtfully. "That's a souvenir from before my marriage," she explained. "From a trip in my final year of high-school. I like to keep it as a reminder that looks can deceive, and even things that may appear permanent change over time."
He stared at the fist-sized lump of porous stone thoughtfully for a moment before remarking, "A mountain is not the first thing that comes to mind when people talk about appreciating transience."
"True," she agreed. "But at one point it was molten rock, and if one examines the mass of stone that exists within the planet, the majority of it is still molten within the core, is it not? One would have expected statistically that it could have remained in such a state for a very long time. Yet, quite recently in geological terms, this particular bit of molten stone became more solid rock, and even now is slowly flaking away into tiny particles.
"At some point in the future, it will all become dispersed, lost in dust and scattered across the world. Given enough time, even the mountain made of such stones will wear away until all sign of it is lost."
He nodded as he considered that. He wasn't sure how to proceed, or if he should even ask about what she might have inadvertently revealed. Thinking of what might be a more considerate lead-in, he asked, "Is it from Hawaii?"
Her eyebrows rose slightly. "Have you become an expert geologist?" she mused, turning her attention from the stone to him. Her lips curved in a smile as she shook her head slightly. "But of course, we already discounted the existence of the great detective, and I had not expected you to study such things! So it was a guess, then? What gave it away?"
"It was just a guess," he agreed with a shrug. Opening the box of the vegetable okonomiyaki, he cut it in half with his chopstick and moved one of the halves to his own makeshift plate, leaving the other half for her. After a bite, he added, "Hawaii is a very popular tourist destination. I'd say around four, maybe five times a year, someone who reads my articles contacts me to explain that they are a victim of Pele's Curse."
"Pele? The Hawaiian goddess?" Sasaki asked. "I don't think I've heard of her curse, if she has one!"
He nodded, confirming, "That Pele, yes. Though I admit I would not be surprised if you knew of the curse and discounted it anyway." He chuckled at her reaction of mildly raised eyebrows. "Ah -- but to explain, Pele's Curse is supposedly a curse on all stones and soil in Hawaii.
"The story goes that she visits great and profound misfortune on those who dare to take pieces of Hawaii with them when they leave. The severity of this poor luck is never minor. People claim loss of their homes, wealth, the death of pets and loved ones ... marriages ending...." He trailed off with a frown, realizing how insensitive that could have been and hurriedly moved on, despite Sasaki's expression not changing very much.
"Uh-- Well, in any case, the primary post office of Volcano, Hawaii, gets a rather impressive number of packages each year containing rocks and soil, along with apology letters for taking it, and lists of misfortunes that had been experienced. Those come from around the world, and so every few months I get another letter from someone who blames Pele's Curse for their unlucky experiences."
"I hadn't heard of that," Sasaki admitted with a wry smile, shaking her head. "But you are correct that I wouldn't think it very likely. I presume that this is why you haven't written an article on it?"
"It's a bit too much superstition, and not enough paranormal," he agreed.
"I can't help but wonder if that bit of folklore came about due to fear of the islands being damaged by tourists taking too many pieces of it away," she mused.
"Many people suspect that is the origin of it," he agreed.
"Even without making actual calculations, it appears to me that the islands would generate replacement stone faster than it could be carried off by such means," she added. "It brings to mind the question of attempting to move Fuji-san, or the actual length of a maha-kalpa -- the point being that people frequently underestimate the true scale of things."
"That same sort of reasoning is why the argument that flash photography damages classical paintings is still going about," he said with a shrug.
She nodded thoughtfully, then gave a small shrug of her own. "I suppose that since I have let the proverbial cat out of the bag, I should explain in greater detail," she added, frowning at her tray and deftly lifting the remaining half of the vegetable okonomiyaki.
"You don't have to," he said quickly. "If you don't want to, I mean."
"I think ... a little bit, I do, though," she mused quietly. "I haven't much wanted to speak about it with anyone else, but we are after all friends. If not you, then who would I discuss it with?
"To be frank, I tried discussing this with my mother, but it was more difficult than I had anticipated, despite the fact that she had gone through the same process. Initially, she was irate that I didn't appear upset enough.
"Later, her thoughts came around to a slightly more positive angle -- that of being happy that it wasn't too late for me to find someone else, and allow her to become a grandmother. I can understand her intentions are generally positive, and she is not overwhelmingly insistent about it, but it is still somewhat awkward.
"With you, at least, I am more comfortably able to discuss these sorts of things," she concluded.
"I must offer my sympathies," Kyon allowed after a moment of thought, instead of asking about her co-workers. "My own mother also occasionally finds time to wonder when I will 'settle down' and provide grandchildren for her."
Sasaki offered a melancholic smile at the commiseration. Shaking her head slightly, she continued, "As I had mentioned, I was married. Not long after high-school -- when I found that rock -- I attended Kyoudai to study." She paused for another bite. "Which was where we met. I stayed in a dorm at the time, which would have made it easier for you to miss me."
He nodded thoughtfully, thinking he could recall Koizumi mentioning Kyoto University's philosophy program at one point. It was something seeking a synthesis between Eastern and Western paradigms, though he had been much less interested in such things at the time. "You studied philosophy?" he guessed.
"At first!" she agreed, nodding. "It ended up that I found mathematics and psychology -- statistics -- more likely to be skills that would be applicable in the job market," she explained. "A philosophy major did not seem to be the best for finding work!
"After graduation, I returned to Nishinomiya to pursue my career. We were married very shortly after that, even though he sought work elsewhere -- he ended up being placed in an office in Sasebo not long after I was hired by my current employers. He commuted for a while, so we could spend weekends together, at least, but he was moved between offices a few times, so there was no sense in moving.
"By the time he had settled into a more permanent location, it was in Oga. We'd been maintaining the relationship long-distance for quite some time. He felt it was time to change that, and that I should move in with him." She paused, looking at her mostly finished meal as though digesting the thought.
He nodded, not really sure what he should say.
"Well," she continued, "neither of us were willing to give up our careers for the other, in the end. We ultimately ended up agreeing to divorce. It could have been much worse, so I am grateful for the fact that it was as amicable as it was."
"I'm sorry he wasn't more considerate of you," Kyon finally offered.
She shook her head, smiling softly. "That wasn't an issue," she countered. "Even if it is true our goals didn't align, neither of us is more complicit than the other in the dysfunction. It didn't work, but there's no real sense assigning blame. Really, we each have our own lives at this point ... which was the problem, because that was the case before we divorced, as well. Toward the end, we felt like strangers who had foolishly signed a marriage contract when we were younger. Since we saw one another so seldom anyway....
"At any rate, we had been sharing a single apartment a few kilometers away, but after the divorce, I moved here, as I needed less space."
"And you haven't gotten around to decorating or buying furniture because you've been so busy?" he asked.
She shook her head ruefully. "That's the kind of blunt question I've come to expect from you," she admonished gently, smiling to show she didn't really mean it. "Ah, but ... no. I consider this a temporary state, so as tempting as it might be, it would underscore a decision to accept things as they are now instead of planning on changing in the future."
He studied the mostly-finished okonomiyaki and scraps in the takeout container before him for a thoughtful minute. Thinking of the place where she lived, even if it were empty, he thought it suggested she was doing well for herself. "Your career seems to be going well, from what I can tell," he offered. "I'll admit that the complexities of your job title still escape me somewhat, but your business card is of fine quality, at the very least!"
She chuckled, shaking her head. "One could order custom cards easily," she countered. "I am guessing that you have thought about it from time to time, but could not decide what job title was most appropriate?"
"As always, you see right through to the heart of me," he sighed, hanging his head. Shrugging, he allowed, "That's largely correct, though. Other than that, since I am almost always contacted by others first, there's seldom a need to offer a card in any case -- though I have amassed quite the collection of received cards.
"However, the point is that we both understand what I do. I am much more curious about the career that you pursue!"
"As I mentioned last time, it is gathering information and then sifting through it for greater understanding," she explained, closing the takeout container and setting it aside, chopsticks carefully placed atop it. "You are familiar with the classic on-line advertisements?"
"Of course," he agreed, nodding. "You do things like that?" he asked, his brow furrowing in puzzlement.
She laughed, shaking her head. "To say it as modestly as I can, it has come a very long way since then. Consider that in an ideal circumstance, by understanding the profile of a particular individual, and which demographic they represent, one could tailor a shopping experience to them. Does that make sense?"
He shrugged, following that. "Sure," he agreed. "But that sounds like something oriented toward very wealthy customers, as the setup would be very expensive."
"If we were to build physical arcades or malls, it certainly would be," she agreed. "Instead, our research allows us to devise better and more optimized advertisements and experiences on-line. By understanding what someone desires and catering to it, the experience is so pleasant it is more likely to generate repeat business.
"Of course, it's prohibitively expensive to do that for everyone -- as you noted -- so we instead aim for broad demographics and settle on the correct cues to engage their mindsets. Careful use of color, which reviews are displayed...." She trailed off, pursing her lips thoughtfully.
His expression sent a message he couldn't quite find the words for, and he instead offered, "That's ... interesting."
"'Ending is better than mending. The more stitches, the less riches,'" she said with a soft sigh, staring at the futon in consternation.
Catching the reference, he gathered the empty takeout containers and chopsticks, answering, "'Cleanliness is next to Fordliness,'" as he rose.
"I find the work interesting, if the execution is unfortunately ... mercenary," she added with a helpless shrug. "However, I cannot utilize my skills to do something I might enjoy more at this point without discarding my career and starting over."
Given what he realized she'd already given up for that career, he nodded as he dropped the bag into the waste bin. "I can understand that," he offered sympathetically. "You're saying you enjoy studying people and how they react to things, even if you're not exactly thrilled with how that knowledge is used?"
"That sums it up fairly well," she agreed.
He returned to the futon and reclaimed his seat, but couldn't help feeling that -- even more than her divorce -- this was something that weighed on her.
In situations like that one, he had never considered himself particularly adept at picking the correct words. As he'd expected, she found the motivation to continue before he did, wryly adding, "I confess that I may have thought of my work as important, but I wonder if perhaps that was merely something I told myself because I did not wish to become a housewife?"
He frowned. "I admit, I do have some trouble envisioning you as the stereotypical home-maker," he mused. "But even in high-school, you spoke to me of your interest in having at least one child."
"At some point," she said, shifting her shoulders as her fingers toyed with the hem of her skirt. "Even so, at this juncture my work takes much of my attention, and I haven't put any time or effort into searching for...." She trailed off with a small shrug.
"Despite the urging of my family, neither have I!" he remarked, giving her a smile of his own. He paused, shrugging wryly, as he realized, "In hindsight, I should have picked up some mochi for dessert."
"I'm afraid I don't have anything suitable, either," she apologized.
"Well, the meal was my responsibility this time, as you handled it last," he countered.
"Very well," she allowed. "But speaking of last time, our conversation was interrupted as you were relating something significant, wasn't it? Let us return to that issue."
"Right." He scratched his chin thoughtfully and gazed toward the ceiling momentarily, putting his thoughts together. "Yes, we were speaking about the 'leanan sidhe.' I had asked if there were perhaps some way, maybe utilizing some creative means, where the normal 'rules' could be avoided or subverted, allowing an outcome that was not unhappy. At least in comparison, wouldn't that outcome be happier?"
Her head tilted to one side slightly as a fingertip tapped at her lower lip in thought. "But I already said that's something that a person must find the answer to themselves," she remarked. "Unless you were trying to go somewhere else with that point?"
"Not particularly," he admitted. "More of a hope that it's the case, than anything else."
She gave a sympathetic sigh, straightening up. "Well, you are thinking that she was some sort of supernatural being?" she prompted. "I do recall we had a small number of discussions about this at a more intense time in the past. As vividly as I remember some events, others have become blurred and unclear, so I cannot bring every detail that we discussed to mind immediately."
"Well, I suspect your memory is sharper than mine, but I would like to think that between the two of us we can puzzle it out."
"There should be some significance to the fact that we can both recall Suzumiya-san," she agreed. "Before I say anything, why not finish that theory you had begun sharing previously?"
"Alright," he agreed, frowning. "I don't have absolute confidence in it, and much if it is conjecture. Well, being entirely honest, until we were at lunch and you brought it up, I didn't have any way to prove any such things even happened -- no one else can recall them that I've found, after all.
"So -- Haruhi was important, at least that much was agreed on by all of the aliens, espers, and time travelers. But my speculation is that her true importance was that she in particular was meant to accomplish some task. The others were there to either help or guide her ... or perhaps even oppose her. It's difficult to really say.
"In the end, though, once she had accomplished this task, she left."
Sasaki touched her fingertips to the side of her chin absently, a gesture he realized he recalled from another of their long-ago discussions. "Perhaps, but from what I recall, I was supposedly of equal importance. Since I am not a supernatural being, that seems to be something we can discount."
His eyebrows rose. "Really?"
"Was it not proposed at one point that you could choose between her, and making me take her place?" she asked.
"I remember that quite clearly," he agreed, grimacing at the memories. "It was a dark chapter -- but made that much easier thanks to your friendship."
"The same is true from me to you," she assured him. "But you mentioned at one point the idea that there is a balance between our world and theirs -- some sort of exchange. Time for time, or the like. That seems to be something that I can agree with, but it also reveals the fatal flaw in the argument; in order for me to be so freely interchangeable with Suzumiya-san, wouldn't I need to be a supernatural being, as well?"
"Actually, Tachibana tried to convince me that you were, and Haruhi somehow took your powers," he said with a frown.
"What a strange idea! I can remember her clearly stating that she thought I should have such powers, but not that they were mine to begin with! Even so ... that was an idea she let up on after that episode. In any case, I don't have any recall of being a supernatural entity of any sort."
"I am suddenly reminded of the time that Nagato took Haruhi's powers and got rid of all of them," he mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"Oh? So that can happen, too?" Sasaki asked, eyebrows rising.
"It is to me, still a bit complex," he said slowly. "And I'm uncertain if it was another world, strange magic worked against this one, or possibly even something that happened only in a dream. Let's see.... It happened in a December, and...."
As familiar as the story was to him, he realized he hadn't shared it with anyone. Well, there had been Koizumi, long ago, but he was gone with the others, now. As silly as the entire story should have been, she listened raptly, nodding with every detail he revealed, as though the words were precious treasures -- or critical evidence needed to decide a case in court.
He finally concluded, "...so, thanks to that, we knew for certain that her power is transferable. Ultimately, the point of it was that Nagato was a supernatural being, but was able to become a normal human. She was even able to forget she'd ever been anything but a normal human." He coughed, shaking his head. "I should have brought something -- but can I trouble you for something to drink?"
"Oh, certainly," she agreed, climbing to her feet briskly. "I've been a poor host by not offering sooner, haven't I? I do have water, at least," she declared, pulling a small plastic bottle from the refrigerator and offering it out. He accepted it with a nod of his head as she pulled another out for herself; the glimpse into the interior of the refrigerator showed that other than bottled water it was as empty as the rest of the house.
After swallowing a few mouthfuls he added, "Though, again, it's my fault for imposing."
"Still," she mused, dismissing his apology as she shifted on the futon slightly. "That does raise questions about me, doesn't it?"
"I suppose it has to," he agreed thoughtfully.
"Well, taking it one step at a time, what do you suppose her task was?" Sasaki asked.
"Going back to that time when even you said that you had faith in me as a perfectly normal person, I think it must have been for me to learn to look for amazing things," he determined. Looking slightly to one side, he added, "Or to make a point that it takes fantastic, god-like powers to get me into Toudai."
Her laugh rang out in response to the joke. "Ah, but ... supposing that was true, what did she get from you in return?"
He mulled that thought over before ultimately spreading his hands in a helpless shrug. "To be honest, I am not certain. Perhaps I'm entirely off course," he sighed.
"Well, accepting that there is some sort of law of conservation on supernatural powers," she mused, "I suppose it might be possible that I was once a supernatural being of some sort. At least, that would match up with Tachibana's claims at that time, along with that person you especially did not get along with, or that strange girl who assisted them."
He grimaced, even after all those years, and nodded his agreement. "If I recall correctly, that person's specific phrasing was that by killing Haruhi, her powers would go to you as the nearest appropriate 'container'," he explained.
Her expression become solemn. "I hadn't known he was willing to go that far," she murmured. After a moment of thought, she shook her head, rousing from her distraction and continuing briskly, "That seems to reinforce a thought I've had, then.
"In which case, in my memory, I've always been a normal human, but at some point in the past I was a supernatural being. Certainly, that aligns with what was being discussed back then. For whatever reason, though, I became a normal person, as I am today."
"You're able to take that in stride better than I would have anticipated," he couldn't help but say.
"Well, I can accept the rationale to consider the theory," she explained, "but we are still lacking an understandable motivation -- an explanation of why this might have happened, though!"
Leaning back to stare at the ceiling in thought, Kyon said, "I recall now, in the various things that Haruhi and I discussed.... It wasn't the last thing, but it was near the end. At one point, she remarked, 'If I were to shoulder a companion's burdens, it would only be because we had all agreed to it.'
"At that time, I had thought it might have something to do with a classmate or a group assignment, and didn't much think about it. But if she was saying farewell at that time, she could also have been referring to you, might she not?"
"So then, the supernatural being that was me was sent on an assignment? And then found humans so fascinating that I chose to become one, and didn't finish my mission?" she wondered. "At some point after this, Suzumiya would have appeared and accepted the responsibility -- and my supernatural powers?
"As nice as the idea is, there is the problem than neither of us recall the agreement, though. Even if we might have forgotten, or chosen to forget, there is the issue that I cannot think of a time that would be sensible for us to have come to this agreement."
"But time could be rewound." He nodded, remembering. "If two weeks could be looped almost endlessly, rewinding a few years to let you live a human life wouldn't be very difficult in comparison."
"Is that so?" She nodded thoughtfully at him, then drew in a breath, saying, "Well, bearing that in mind, then, I could see us coming to that agreement. Then I wonder ... that event where you had to choose between me becoming a supernatural being, and not -- was the significance of it what I had said at that time? That you were the one who had to make that choice?
"If you were chosen, perhaps everyone else had to respect the decision that was made and abide by it ... such beings do seem to adore their contests and challenges, according to what bits of legend I've read. But, look at it this way! You were the emissary of humankind, and swayed beings beyond the comprehension of humans!
"And so, if that's the case -- if her goal were to help me, then you would have done her a favor by filling that role, and so her interest in you would be paying that back! There's a balance in these things, isn't there? The time you spent with her weighed against the time that was rewound?"
"So it might have taken from when we first met until the point that Haruhi left -- before things were rewound, at least -- for us to reach that point," Kyon said slowly. "That ... is rather a lot of time. Still, it's nothing compared to that two week loop, but...." He paused, thinking.
Would he redo that if Sasaki were more than human, and wished to become human? Didn't that mirror Haruhi herself, though? He wanted to let Haruhi continue being herself, and the same for Sasaki ... and if she had made that choice.... If he'd been with Sasaki instead of Haruhi for that long, and it were what she wished, wouldn't he agree to try and help her?
"...I could see making that agreement," he said softly, a little shaken by the immensity of it.
"It is certainly something to think about!" she agreed.
"I'm not really sure what to be more astounded by," he said quietly. "That ... does make sense, though. However, considering what this might say of you and what you once were, I'm surprised that even you don't seem unsettled by it."
"On the contrary!" she countered, smiling brightly. "As strange as it seems, if this is the case, then I am who I chose to be! Isn't that greatly reassuring? To know that you are who you wanted to be?"
He couldn't help but smile back, thinking of her long ago protests about the possibility of being given Haruhi's powers because just having them would change who she was. "That seems to be true as well," he agreed.
"A little bit, I am envious of you, though," Sasaki added, shaking her head. "In the process, you've gotten to see many amazing things. I wish I had such an opportunity, as I've forgotten any such events I might have seen in the past."
"Well," he started, before stifling a yawn. "Ah, it's later than I thought." He checked the time on his phone, and was suddenly glad he had a car, instead of needing to wait for the trains to restart.
That gave him quite a degree of flexibility in traveling. Though, thinking of that, he could think of one thing to address Sasaki's mild envy. "The weekend is coming up soon. If the weather holds, would you be willing to meet with me very early in the morning on Sunday?"
"I could, but can you tell me what it's for?" she asked, biting back a yawn of her own.
"I can answer if you like, but I'd like it to be a surprise -- for now, it's very late, and Shamisen is going to be grumpy if I don't feed him soon," he answered.
"I will trust you," she decided. "But let me know in advance if there are any special preparations I should make, as well as what time we should meet. Shamisen is your cat, isn't he? I'm glad to hear he's still with you!"
"He's getting older, but he's doing surprisingly well," Kyon agreed with a chuckle. "I wonder if he'll remember you?"
Looking around the apartment, Sasaki admitted, "I've thought about getting a cat of my own, but I feel it would be inconsiderate to neglect it in such a small space."
"Well, next time you can visit with Shamisen to your heart's content," he assured her. "He loves attention, so will not complain in the slightest, I am certain."
"Then that gives me two things to look forward to!" she declared. "In that case, I've enjoyed our visit, but you should get back to him -- and I really must rest before work tomorrow, despite all of the thoughts that our discussion has stirred in my head!"
"Certainly -- thank you again for putting up with me," he said, rising to his feet along with her and moving to the door.
"It was my pleasure to spend time with you like that, dear friend," she insisted, grinning, before she had to muffle another yawn. "Oh...."
"Take care until next time, dear friend," he returned, grinning back before she closed the door with a soft laugh.
Of course, she wasn't the only one who had thoughts stirred by that discussion. It still was a lot to consider!
"To be quite honest, when you said 'very early in Sunday morning', I didn't realize just how early that would be," Sasaki noted with mild amusement. "Certainly, there are people who would consider half past three in the morning late instead of early."
"I've had those days, too," Kyon observed wryly, "although fortunately not that often as of late."
They were sitting in his car, a blue Honda hatchback, heading east along the coastal highway after he had picked her up from her apartment. At this hour there was hardly any traffic at all on the road other than the occasional truck, giving the sparsely lit landscape an unusual, slightly eerie quality.
He had called her the previous afternoon to tell the exact time of the appointment and advised her to wear something suitable for off-road hiking. Although she hadn't mentioned it, the latter part had posed a minor problem since her current wardrobe didn't exactly contain a set with those qualifications. After some consideration a mid-season windbreaker and a pair of almost unused sports shoes, which she had bought more with optimistic intentions than out of actual necessity, were given the order to yield for the greater good.
"I hope that this wasn't too much of a burden on you," he continued, "and I should've been more clear from the beginning. Unfortunately, I don't have any say over this particular schedule."
"Oh no, this isn't a burden at all!" she demurred. "If anything, such a rigid requirement only makes the implied mystery that much more intriguing. On the surface of it, one might think that our destination would be some distant location if we have to wake up this early. However, since you didn't ask anything about my afternoon schedule, it means that the destination must be relatively close, and there is some external factor necessitating such an early start. But even if this is a true inference, I cannot think of an object that would fit those criteria."
"I thought that we had agreed that the great detective is just a myth, but if you continue at that rate you'll probably figure out the surprise before it has a chance to happen," he chuckled. "Anyway -- you're right, we are only going as far as to Awaji, so this shouldn't interfere with anything that you've planned for the afternoon."
She refrained from admitting that she didn't have anything planned for the afternoon, and in fact she would have been completely happy if the trip had taken a whole day, but saying so would have been inconsiderate since he was already putting so much effort to the surprise.
Now that she thought about it, wasn't it the case that she should have had a plan -- specifically, one related to reciprocating his effort? However, she couldn't think of anything even remotely comparable, and that made her feel slightly disheartened.
She had noticed earlier that the back of the car seemed to serve as a storage for an eclectic collection of items. Looking around, in this light she could discern a number of books and binders piled on top of each other in a jumble and couldn't escape the impression that some of them might have been moved there quite recently to make room for a front seat passenger.
In a job like his, it probably made sense to use the car as a makeshift portable office. An unruly idea popped into her mind and she wondered what it would feel like if she could do the same. She couldn't help smiling at the absurdity of the image of driving out of the office on top of her desk, to the bewilderment of her co-workers, but then reality caught up with her in the form of a reminder about the situation at work and made the smile fade as fast as it had appeared.
"Is there a problem with it?" he suddenly asked.
"A problem with what?"
"I mentioned that we're going to Awaji. Is that a problem for you?" he continued in a concerned voice.
"Oh, that. No, not at all! I am sorry if I gave such an impression by letting work-related issues distract myself at an unfortunate moment," she explained.
"An interesting project, perhaps?"
"Quite the contrary. We are having a number of changes in the management, and while the results of that are yet to be seen, I cannot pretend to be overtly optimistic about the direction of the change. On the face of it, I should probably be content that I got to keep my current assignments."
She sighed and shrugged in a conceding manner. "But I must apologize for my lack of tact; I shouldn't bother you with such issues."
"I'm only too happy to listen," he said. "Of course, provided that you want to talk about that."
She turned to look at him. It had been an earnest statement, not just a platitude, and she knew that he meant every part of it.
Thinking about it, she realized that while Kyon might appear somewhat oblivious at a casual glance, in reality he was just as astute an observer as she was herself; where she was driven by a desire to understand what made people tick, he did it because he genuinely cared about other people as individuals. And that was why he had immediately picked up on her consternation even if he couldn't know its cause....
She kept looking at his solemn face, and a new thought surfaced; this one was certainly much happier than anything work related, and it made her smile again. That feeling turned into exhilaration when she saw an almost imperceptible change in his expression, indicating that he had noticed her mood change even without diverting his gaze from the road, and was politely waiting for an explanation.
"I wouldn't want to waste your time by talking about something as banal as problems at my workplace," she said, "but it would also be disingenuous of me to insist that the topic should be avoided since I already broached it. However, I was then reminded of the fact that there is something inherently familiar in this situation.
"When we were younger, I was often given a lift at the back of your bicycle. Compared to that, only the means of transportation has changed, but you are still carrying me around. I can only hope that this alternative is easier on you."
"I can't claim that you'd been a burden back then, either," he objected. "And anyway, that's just common courtesy."
"But that is exactly the issue. Sometimes commonplace things are the hardest to notice, and that is why I may have made a trivial error in judgement, one that is only apparent in hindsight.
"While this current arrangement is one of strict necessity, as I don't have a car or even a driver's license, I imagine that it wouldn't have been physically impossible for me to carry you at the back of a bicycle instead of the other way round. Could the fact that you never insisted that we should take turns at pedaling be seen as a tacit acknowledgement of a social convention postulating that particular arrangement -- because I was a girl?"
He furrowed his brow. "Uh, wasn't that quite obvious?"
"Thus, it is indeed as I thought, and that makes me glad. But, at the same time it appears to me that you are underestimating the ability of a teenage girl to feel insecure about her personality despite displaying an external image of confidence."
"You really thought that I might take you for a boy?" he asked in bewilderment.
"Ah, no--" She laughed softly. "It would certainly have been facetious to propose such a thing. The category I had in mind was more like 'one of me'. As silly as it may sound on the face of it, while I was happy to find out that you spontaneously accepted me the way I was, it didn't exclude the possibility of that me occupying a slot somewhere between a kappa and a tsuchinoko snake in your mental hierarchy."
He clutched the bridge of his nose with one hand. "I don't even know where to begin...."
"Considering that it was me projecting my own issues into the situation, there is hardly a need for you to explain yourself," she mused. "And in any case, we shouldn't judge our younger selves too harshly since they managed to get along rather well despite any perceived shortcomings, don't you agree? This should be an unquestionable conclusion if we can still call each other friends with good conscience."
"Now, look--" he said, still rubbing his brow, which made Sasaki glad that the road ahead was straight and devoid of traffic. "Of course I accept you the way you are, there wasn't ever any question about that. Even if you are unlike any other person I know, it doesn't mean that I'd see you as some alien life form! You are just ... you."
"I must confess that to me you are likewise in a category of your own among the persons that I know -- and at the same time I am quite certain that you would treat even an alien life form with the same respect and consideration that you show to your friends. However, that is not the issue I had in my mind.
"People identify each other based on the unique combination of qualities that defines a person. When considered from that point of view, it is evident that people indeed have a separate category for each person that they know. Regardless of that, I am simply happy to know that in the Venn diagram depicting the qualities that constitute 'me', and those of 'a human female', you don't consider the intersection of the two to be an empty set."
"What does that even--" he started, before snapping his mouth shut and lapsing into apparent contemplation.
During the ensuing silence Sasaki slowly sank deeper into her seat while appraising the feeling that the conversation had triggered. She had known, even back then, how rare a trait Kyon's propensity to see all people as individuals instead of representatives of a class was. Still, somehow, she had managed to convince herself that he had made an exception just for her -- but he hadn't!
It was such an apparently trivial thing that the amount of happiness derived from the realization seemed to be slightly out of proportion.
The road curved gently to the left and, after automatic toll gates, turned into a colossal suspension bridge over Osaka Bay, connecting mainland to Awaji Island. Although there was still some time until the dawn, complete darkness had already given way to steel-gray light that revealed the churning waves far below.
That reminded Sasaki of the Naruto whirlpools on the other side of the island. While they were a rather impressive sight, it didn't appear likely that they would be what Kyon had in mind if there was a strict schedule for the trip.
He stole a glance in her direction and, after noticing that she was still anticipating his reply, gave her a wry smile.
"I was also just reminded of something that I had almost forgotten. Complacency in a conversation with you is like pitting a bunch of elementary school kids against the Hanshin Tigers and expecting a fair chance of winning," he explained.
"I am sorry if I presented my view in a confrontational manner. I wouldn't want to see a conversation between us two to become any kind of a competition. Surely, there couldn't be any winners in such a situation."
"A baseball game was probably a poor analogue, but still -- wasn't there some psychological theorem about how highly competent persons have unrealistic expectations of the abilities of other people, just like incompetent persons have unrealistic expectations of their own abilities?"
"That would be the Dunning-Kruger effect," she noted, cocking her head to the side. "I see. So, you are saying that just by being myself, my actions can be perceived as a challenge by other people, but since I am not a competitive person myself I may fail to notice the involuntary effect I have on others?"
"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but it sounds true as well," he acknowledged.
Tanaka's poorly veiled gloating after his promotion to the head of department was announced came to Sasaki's mind. It had initially puzzled her because she hadn't even wanted the position, but when seen from this point of view....
"Yes, unfortunately I believe that it is indeed a valid observation," she said with a sigh. "However, I must also point out that as far as I remember you have never treated me that way."
"Maybe I never had unrealistic expectations of my chances to challenge you on any particular topic?" he suggested, clearly in jest as betrayed by his self-effacing smile. "But now that the issue has been mentioned, I'm indeed in a competitive mood."
"You are?" Sasaki was slightly shaken. "I wouldn't have thought--"
"I feel like competing with myself on not making unwarranted assumptions about anything related to you. Even if you are wary of being in a category of your own, the truth is that you are, and that is completely regardless of the theory that we talked about the other day. I may be wrong on many other things but this one looks pretty obvious.
"I could just as well play pachinko as try to guess how you see any particular issue based on what I know about people in general. So, instead of guessing, I should just ... ask."
"Oh." Sasaki felt so surprised that the utterance was involuntary. This was not spoken by the indecisive young man she had known in middle school, the one who was content to just quietly observe on the sidelines and let things happen on their own accord. And still....
She had been watching the ever-changing surface of the ocean in contemplation, but now she raised her gaze to meet his. She could recognize this new Kyon, but at the same time the old one was still there as well. Whatever the change, it was not for the worse.
Seeing an implicit question in his expression, she smiled back. "I wouldn't mind that at all."
Another moment of silence followed, but this one felt right -- lingering around without demanding anything. In a sense it was like a return to those less complicated times she had been thinking about so much these last days. The universe shrunk until it fitted inside this small car, suspended on a thin strip between the boundless sky and sea.
After a while they reached the far end of the bridge and turned left from the first junction, down a slope toward the waterfront.
"We are almost there," he said, as the car reached the shoreline.
The road cut through a copse of squat trees, and after one more turn led to a large parking lot, completely vacant at such an hour.
"This is the Akashi-Kaikyo park, isn't it?" she asked, after he had parked the car next to a fence at the far end of the lot and they had stepped out in the chilly pre-dawn breeze.
"That's right. Most of the park is only open during the daytime, but the area around us is freely accessible."
Sasaki looked around. Other than the silhouettes of playground equipment standing in the open area between the lot and the beach like a curious congregation of prehistoric beasts, the place appeared completely nondescript. Certainly, a nearby governmental park wouldn't have been high on her list of potential places to look for the extraordinary, even in the middle of the night.
"Eh, this isn't the place I had in mind. We'll still have to walk a bit," he said, noticing her confused look.
They walked past the playground and found a walkway running parallel to the waterline. Not wanting to spoil the surprise by any inadvertent questions, Sasaki deliberately refrained from talking as they headed south along the path.
Besides the area being dark, it was also surprisingly silent this far away from the urban sprawl. The only noises she could hear were their own footsteps in the sand, the slow breathing of the sea and the melancholy warbling of a bird somewhere in the thicket.
She tried to imagine what the place would look like during the day when it was full of people, activity and the excited laughter of children as they climbed up and down monkey bars, but all that felt oddly foreign and distant to the landscape looming around them in this dim and colorless light. It was almost as if there were two different parks existing in parallel universes, unaware of each other's existence. Now that she thought about it, it reminded her of....
The thought sent shivers down her spine and she was suddenly immensely grateful that she wasn't alone. No, that wasn't it -- she was grateful that he was there with her. For a fleeting moment she felt an urge to touch him, to ascertain that his presence wasn't an illusion, but then she realized what it would look like and silently chided herself for being so sentimental.
After walking up the side of a gently sloping knoll they arrived at a ledge that formed a natural promontory with an unrestricted view over the Osaka Bay.
"This is probably the best place," he said, stopping to check his phone. "Looks like we've got perfect timing -- it should be any moment now."
Sasaki felt intrigued by the scene, but at the same time also deeply puzzled. What could they possibly be waiting for at a place like this? Other than the dark shape of the island behind their back and the hypnotic heaving of ocean waves, there didn't appear to be anything at all to be observed.
Not knowing what to expect, she let her gaze wander around. There was a blinking light on the horizon she followed for a moment before realizing that it was just an airplane, probably on approach to Kansai. She imagined a plane full of fatigued passengers in their confined seats, impatiently checking their watches for the end of the tribulation and a chance to get home after an arduous business trip. The iconic connotations of that situation might be suitable for a project she was working on right now....
She shook her head in slight reprimand, reminding herself that she shouldn't let work issues distract herself at a moment like this, especially since the image she had in mind made her own tiny apartment appear more like a place to store items than something that one would call a home. Well, that was too bad, wasn't it?
And then it happened.
The eastern horizon burst open and a stripe of pure light in the form of glowing, impossibly green quicksilver spilled into the world. Quivering like a living being, it shot a narrow pillar of light high on the dull sky to herald its unbridled presence.
Just for a heartbeat, the apparition transformed the world into an abstract painting of light. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the pillar collapsed and the rupture lost its otherworldly lustre. In its place, the sun rose.
Transfixed by the ephemeral beauty of the scene, she reveled in silent appreciation until noticing how Kyon stole a discreet sideways glance to gauge her reaction.
"That was a green flash, wasn't it?" she asked, in the hope of making the magical moment last just a little bit longer.
"I should've known that you'd recognize it. The pillar was unusual -- maybe something in the air, but other than that -- right, it was just another green flash," he said in an understated voice. "Maybe I got your hopes up for nothing?"
"That is not true at all!" she objected vigorously while trying to sort out her thoughts. "That was the most amazing thing I have seen for -- I don't even know how long. I knew that such a phenomenon exists but I had always thought that you would have to travel to some exotic faraway location to see it. It is astounding to see one so close to home."
"I used to think that way, too," he admitted with a chuckle, "and in fact the first one I saw happened in Vanuatu, which should indeed qualify as a faraway place pretty much regardless of where you live. It was only later when I found out that it can be seen here as well.
"At one point in my life I used to have sleeping troubles, so I often walked around the neighborhood at night. This area is especially tranquil so I liked to come here for a walk, but there isn't anything special to the discovery itself. I just happened to be at the right place at the right time."
The intensity of the emotion triggered by his words caught Sasaki unaware. The implied reason behind his sleeplessness and nightly walks resonated with her own sense of loneliness and she suddenly knew with breathtaking certainty that she would hug him regardless of consequences if he gave her the slightest excuse to do so. The possibility of losing her usual self-restraint in such a way was an idea she found at the same time disconcerting and fascinating.
But -- since she was with Kyon there wouldn't be an excuse forthcoming, would there? He hadn't brought her here with any hidden motives in mind, or mentioned his lonely walks in order to garner pity. She stole a reassuring glance at the man by her side, who was watching the sunrise in apparent contemplation, unaware of her internal turmoil.
Indeed, he was simply sharing his own experiences because he was considerate, and had thought that those might make her happier, without realizing how wildly successful that attempt had been.
And on that regard -- it was also rather unfair to him that he didn't know, but the only option to express herself in a way that would be true to the gratitude she was feeling would be ... to hug him. It wasn't that she wouldn't have wanted to; she certainly did, but couldn't, because there was yet another facet to the situation. While they were seemingly alone on this promontory, it was only true in a strictly physical sense.
This place and the moment had a special meaning to him, one that she could surmise with relative certainty, and out of respect to those memories she couldn't possibly usurp them. There was time and place for everything, and although she had been invited to share this one it didn't mean that she could make it her own. Like any mindful guest, she would show proper respect.
Still, she couldn't help wondering what it would be like. Even if she couldn't remember it -- if they had been together for so long, would her body somehow recognize the sensation, or had she lost everything from her previous life? If this life was the best of all the ones she could have had, was it selfish and greedy to ask for more?
She examined her feelings and decided that it didn't matter either way. She was happy to be here, right now; there wasn't a place in the world where she would rather have been. As far as she was concerned, this was a perfect moment. She wrapped her arms around her body to keep that warm feeling close to her heart.
"Are you cold?" he asked with a hint of genuine concern in his voice.
"Maybe just a little," she admitted. "Even if the day will be warm, this early in the morning the sun is still so close to the horizon that the air remains chilly."
He seemed to hesitate, and for a moment she thought that he might offer his coat to her -- a temptation that could be inordinately hard to resist even if she really should.
"Well -- I brought coffee in a thermos, but we'll have to walk back to the car for it," he said, almost apologetically.
She couldn't help smiling unreservedly. "Coffee sounds fine, and I don't mind the walk at all. And, Kyon...."
He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"It is inadequate of me to just say this, but -- thank you for bringing me here; it was indeed an extraordinary experience. However, it has also left me woefully unable to return the favor in a way that would do it proper justice."
"That's not--" he said, scratching the back of his head. "I mean, if you found the trip worth making then that's good enough for me."
"I knew you would see it like that, and it reassures me greatly that you do. But if we both can accept that this is the case, then maybe an opportunity will eventually present itself?"
He looked at the sea for a moment before giving her an amiable smile. "We can always hope so."
As they turned around to return to the car, Sasaki was surprised to see how different the place looked in sunlight, and it reminded her of a thought she had had earlier.
"This may sound like a weird question, but it is of some importance to me," she said after a moment of reflection. "You have told me that Tachibana-san once took you to a separate world that was allegedly created by me. A 'closed space' was the name that you used."
"Yes, that's right."
"Could you tell me what it looked like?"
"As far as I remember, it was just like the real world, except without people. And instead of a sun, there was ambient light that lingered around like fog. However, unlike our world it felt ... static. Immutable."
He scratched his chin in contemplation. "I can't remember any particular details -- was that good enough?"
She pondered his words as the walked down the path. "Every now and then, but most often when I feel unsure about my aim in life, I have this recurring nightmare. In it, I find myself in a world that looks just like our own, but I am the only living being in it. I don't know how I can be so sure, but I am absolutely certain of the fact that there has never been, and will never be anyone else in that whole world, and that makes me feel as if my heart were freezing.
"Solitude in the scale of an entire universe -- the mere idea is so devastating that it wakes me up in the middle of the night, and I have to walk to the window to check that the world is still going about its chores as usual. And still -- it always makes me feel miserable for the rest of the day, as if that place had an independent existence, patiently waiting for a time when I wouldn't wake up any more.
"I wonder ... what if that closed space is still here, around us, even if we cannot see it? I find the thought deeply unsettling, but there is little I can do about it."
He gave her an unusually concerned look and hesitated before answering. "I cannot know for sure, but I find it hard to believe that such a thing would continue to exist if its only purpose is to cause grief."
"I would like to think the same way, but how could I be certain? Even back then, when you visited that place, how could it exist as some kind of an extension of my psyche if I didn't have any supernatural powers at that time?"
"I ... hadn't thought about that. Now that you mentioned it, it does indeed sound odd," he mused.
"Did you ever directly observe Suzumiya-san creating closed space?"
"Of course not, closed space could only be detected by...." He stopped cold. "Wait, are you saying that it was actually espers who created closed space?"
"It looks like a plausible explanation to me. If a phenomenon can never be observed without the presence of a particular agent, then a natural hypothesis is that the agent in question is an essential component of that phenomenon."
"But Koizumi said-- And I swallowed that hook, line and sinker!"
For the second time during the trip, Kyon rubbed his brow in exasperation. Sasaki wasn't quite sure whether she should be impressed or concerned.
"Of course, it could be more complicated than that," she suggested. "When we think about a musical performance, who actually creates it -- the person who composed the piece, or the person who gives it an audible form through playing it? It appears to me that both of them have a reasonable claim to being a part of the creative process."
"You mean that what we call an esper could be some sort of a demiurge, turning the thoughts of his master into a physical form?" He reflected on the idea for a moment. "Yes, I see how it could make sense, but I can't think of any way to prove it one way or another."
She sighed. "I can't help feeling that we are like two Heian era people trying to guess the mood of Amaterasu-oumikami after witnessing a solar eclipse. Despite there being an entirely logical and irrefutable chain of evidence leading from that simple observation to modern astrophysics and orbital mechanics, the path is so long and far beyond their comprehension that it could just as well not even exist."
"That sounds a bit like a cargo cult," he chuckled.
"Indeed, now I remember that you have written an article on those as well. You mentioned having been on Vanuatu; was that when you were doing research on that topic?"
"That's right. I found the concept interesting and managed to secure some extra funding for the work from an ethnographical institute. Cargo cults are sometimes mentioned as a counter-example for refuting the supernatural component of belief systems, which in my opinion misses the point."
"When you think about it, the very definition of supernatural is deceptive, as if we already knew everything about nature. So, I wonder -- if an interstellar traveler without any knowledge of the human civilization were to see a cargo cult shrine, would he be able to infer the existence of seaplanes, radios or military rifles based on that?"
She reflected on this. "I agree with the idea that the division of our experiences into natural and supernatural tells little about the phenomena themselves, and more about our understanding of them. Still, even if we fail to comprehend the essence of a phenomenon, the analogy that we create to describe it might be useful for someone else with better understanding.
"That actually reminds me of the similarity between karmic connections and quantum entanglement. Maybe two completely separate paradigms can sometimes converge on an inherent property of existence, even by accident?"
"Karma sounds fine, but quantum mechanics just gives me headache. The whole idea feels more suspicious than a purported photo of the Isshii lake monster," he quipped. "However, if I'm to believe scientists, even my phone wouldn't work without it."
"That is actually an important philosophical issue," she noted. "Quantum mechanics is so far outside the human realm of experience that on a fundamental level, nobody really understands it. When people talk about wave-particle duality, many forget that there are neither waves nor particles, only something that acts approximately like one or the other depending on how we look at it.
"Waves and particles are only models that we use to explain the observable behavior of microscopic entities, but what they actually are -- we have no idea. We can use computers to predict the behavior of matter with astonishing precision," she said, waving her hand, "but its true nature is still an impenetrable mystery.
"If I can't even explain my own hands, how much more difficult it is to discuss something that appears utterly impossible to our limited understanding? Thus, regardless of how rational one is, beyond a certain point the only thing left is belief."
They had reached the parking lot while talking. Kyon fished a bag out of the pile of items at the back of the car and produced a thermos and two plastic mugs. "If I got to choose, right now I'd believe in coffee."
"Always the pragmatic one," she laughed. "But -- I appreciate that, and the coffee as well."
"There might be sugar cubes in the glovebox," he said, nodding towards the front seat. "Other than that, I can provide coffee in any variety as long as it's black."
They leaned against the car and enjoyed the early morning scenery. There was dew on the ground, giving grass a silvery sheen. Fine mist rose up in the air as if the ground were breathing.
"I went to visit my mother yesterday," Sasaki said after a while. "We talked about my childhood and looked at photos in family albums. She also gave me a box of my old items that she had been storing. I brought it home but didn't have time to open it yet. But even with such tangible evidence, there is doubt.
"Of course I didn't mention it to her, but all that time I wondered whether those photos and memories were true. Did I ever have an actual childhood or was this me created at some later moment, with false memories of a past that never existed? Is the person whom I call my mother really that, or was she also created at the same time? How far back does that chain go?
"I have one particularly clear memory of being taken to a beach by my parents when I was about five or six years old. While we were there, my father bought me an ice cream. It was such a rare treat that I tried to eat it as slowly as possible, but since it was a sunny day, before I was even halfway through it melted and dropped in the sand.
"I can't remember what that ice cream tasted like, but the taste of chagrin in my mouth as I watched the spoiled ice cream is still palpable. Was that a real memory, or a false one? Was it created to illustrate the principles of dharma, or was it just a random occurrence without deeper meaning?
"Even beyond that, what does it actually mean that 'I' was created? Even if there is a shared stream of consciousness, how could one claim that the 'I' from before and this 'me' are the same person to a meaningful degree, if we don't share any recognizable qualities?"
"I can certainly sympathize," he noted. "I've been wrestling with my own doubts as long as I can remember. I'm almost tempted to say that the price of awareness is eternal uncertainty."
She stopped in mid-thought and smiled. "But of course. Mu!"
"Mu what?" he asked, perplexed.
"Does a fairy have a Buddha-nature?" The question was so absurd that she felt like laughing.
He smiled back as the realization dawned. "If I remember correctly, it was a dog Joushuu talked about. But -- you're right, the answer would have to be 'mu'."
"So, if the question itself leads us astray," she mused, "we must un-ask the question."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.
"Whatever I may have been earlier, it is an undeniable fact that right now I am 100% a human being. The past is only relevant to the degree it helps me understand this condition.
"If the uncertainty about my past is making me feel rootless, it would be a delusion to believe that other people are better off just by the virtue of having been around a little longer. Instead, it should be seen as an invitation to grow my roots in a place that accepts them.
"If I have been feeling that there is a hole in my life, it would be a delusion to search the past for the missing piece, because, even if such a piece could be found, its proper place would be in the past instead of the present. All that we have is the now-moment.
"And, if I have been content to take a lack of unhappiness for happiness, then maybe that is just a part of my nature. But if true happiness comes from aligning oneself with a purpose, it is also an invitation to finding that purpose. It would be a delusion to shun bright daylight just because it makes the dawn pale in comparison. There is a time and place for both.
"And this is why I am so grateful to be right here, right now, with you."
"...that was consummate," he avouched, after a moment of silence.
A brisk breeze from the ocean was playing with her hair and making her neck tickle. She could sense the familiar feeling of her mind going slightly out of focus, but this time it was not accompanied with the usual edge of cold, analytical logic.
A thought occurred, and it made her laugh softly. "Certainly, I must have been a lousy magical girl."
He chuckled in response. "I couldn't say."
They watched the sun, now bright and well above the horizon, illuminating this human world, every second an endless procession of perfect moments.
"It's going to be a fine day," he eventually said, finishing his coffee.
"Yes. I think I can believe in that," she answered.