Later -- Chapter One

A Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi fanfiction

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.

Note: May contain spoilers up through book nine.

It's a remarkable difference to see her standing on the deck, above the sand garden's lower walkway, contrasted against my last view of her. I won't forget that image, though ... given all that time, it had been strongly built up, too.

She'd just turned twenty, in her second year of Toudai. I remember the heat in her expression, the bewildered anger.... There was her signature confidence, behind all that, too. Now, of course, the anger was gone -- but the confidence was still there. She was still confused, but after that much time, well....

I was making a fool of myself, though, just standing there on the sand garden walkway, looking up at her. "Fifteen years, that sounds about right," I say, before the moment grows longer.

Looking vaguely uneasy, Tsuruya shakes her head, saying, "I will check on Kin-chan.... Haruhi, if you like, why don't you and Kyon-kun catch up? Um ... he can show you the grounds."

Haruhi gives Tsuruya a curious glance, studying her as though searching for some ulterior motive before she nods. "Um, thanks, Tsu-chan. Yeah ... that'd be ... good."

Tsuruya leaves, chasing after her son, and Haruhi turns back to me, one hand holding the edge of her skirt down as she hops to the lower walkway a few steps away. She catches her balance and raises her other hand as though to adjust her hair, then pauses, hesitant. She's shorter than me, still ... I'd forgotten, thanks to the height of the porch. Now she's wearing house-sandals, but I can easily imagine her wearing sensible lifts with her current ensemble. When my eyes go back up, they catch hers for a heartbeat.

Then I remember other times, so long ago....

I don't want to think about that, though. Instead, I gesture down the pathway, to the traditional garden. This late in the year, the lighting isn't good, and it won't really be much to see.... The bonsai in the greenhouse, maybe. Never mind that, though. I can tend them tomorrow.

"So," I say, shaking my head, "Suzumiya Haruhi, how have you been?"

"Fuck," she says, tossing her hair and rolling her eyes, completely betraying the business-like persona her clothing suggested. "Nice evasion, you jerk." Then she punches me in the shoulder -- not hard enough to knock me over, but enough to sting. Laughing, she steps ahead of me. "So, really ... you're the gardener here?"

"Yeah," I answer, rubbing my shoulder. "Uh ... at this point, I'm the longest working employee on the estate."

"Is that so?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at that. She rounds the corner to the traditional garden, then turns her head, studying the lay of the different plots and the arrangements surrounding the koi pond. "You do all of the gardening alone?"

"Yeah."

She shakes her head. "I recognize this arrangement," she declares, indicating the pond. "This was popular in the Nara period."

"That's right."

"Hmm. The sand garden was nice, though...."

"A garden has been maintained in this particular style on the Tsuruya estate historically since Nara was the capital, out of recognition for the family's historic prominence. It's not really ... my place to change it...."

Heaving a sigh, she turns her heavy gaze to me. "How ... did this happen? I mean...." She hesitates, then prods, "I mean ... y...you.... That day, what happened?"

I have my reasons. It's not like I haven't gone over them dozens -- well.... Possibly thousands of times.

Of course, when you come face to face from the person you ran away from, half a life ago, those justifications feel pretty flimsy. Even if they are true. "I couldn't take the pressure," I say honestly, not meeting her eyes, staring at the bamboo boar-scarer, currently idle with the pump disabled.

Her gaze goes to it, too, and she takes the stepping stones across the pond to the device, examining it more closely, but not actually touching it.

"So ... you just ran away," she mutters. "Unbelievable. Unbelievable. T...that's just...." She sighs, her head still bowed. After a moment, she speaks, though it's somewhat slowly. "You have no idea how much you pissed me off, Kyon."

That's about what I expected.... I can't honestly say that I've forgotten about Haruhi. She's the type of person you don't forget. "I ... guessed I might," I admit, turning to the garden.

She's quiet for a moment, pushing down on the bamboo rod, then letting it fall back to the stone with an echoing clatter.

"You asshole!" she snaps, struggling to keep her voice quiet. She looks about to say more, but instead turns, staring into the still koi pond, where the fish sluggishly wait for warmer weather.

I can see that she'd be furious. After all ... I denied her what she wanted. More importantly, I failed her. I disagree on when I actually failed, though. How to tell her that?

"Toudai wasn't for me," I say, which is a pretty crummy defense.

She gives me a look that says she thinks so, too. "You could have made it through college," she says, in a slightly accusatory voice. "O...or, if you'd just ... told me that you wanted to be a poet.... Hell, you'd never even come up with a decision of what to do with your life after school! Or a major--" She cuts herself off with a sigh. "So ... gardening, huh?"

"And poetry," I admit. "I didn't really see either of them coming to me, though ... I couldn't have told you back then because I didn't know."

"You still haven't really told me why," she reminds me, fixing me with another hard stare.

"Because you are Suzumiya Haruhi," I tell her. "Do you remember high school? Back ... before we tested for Toudai, you know, with the practice exams...."

"So? Of course I remember ... and when you applied yourself, you didn't do that badly! I got you though that! If you'd stuck with me, I...." She trails off with another sigh, hanging her shoulders.

"You probably were good enough to get both of us through college," I say carefully. She's smarter than me ... I shouldn't have to explain more than that.

She smiles, then, though it's very sad. "Yeah," she sighs. "I had to tell you I was pissed off ... because even if it was some crazy-ass demand from your 'artist's soul,' or whatever -- it was still a really jerkish thing to do, Kyon. Seriously, you didn't even have the guts to say goodbye?"

I cannot deny the truth of her words ... or meet her gaze. So I turn to stare at the koi as well. "You're right," I acknowledge weakly. "I didn't -- because I knew if I tried, you'd never let me go. And probably neither would I."

The faint winter breeze settles, and the pond's surface stills. I can see her reflection, though her image wavers faintly. Her eyes seem especially watery, reflected there. "Stop trying to be so nice!" she snaps, her voice strained. "Because the worst thing about you is even after that ... I can't hate you for it!"

I look up in surprise, and see the one thing I had failed to take into account.... Ah, no, after this long, I knew about it. I'm lying if I say otherwise. I knew it could hurt her, but I was so desperate to try and right my own situation in some small way that I put myself ahead of her.

After all ... even if I liked her, I couldn't stand seeing the shambles of my life in comparison to hers; not then. "I would have slowed you down, you know," I tell her. "Like when you made us into a band ... remember that?"

She nods, still staring at the pond as the wind picks up, scattering our reflections.

"You didn't need us ... and if you had gone on your own, or found people who could keep up with you better...." I shrug.

"But we were a club! I couldn't very well have called it a club activity if...." She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "We were friends. Friends do things together, you idiot. I know that I have a lot of energy ... but it's not like you couldn't keep up--"

I hold up a hand to forestall her. "Suzumiya-san ... you may be right." Actually ... she would absolutely be right, if it came down to it -- except for those horrible consequences. "You may be wrong. At this point, it's a decade and a half into being academic."

She stares at me, then nods grudgingly. "I do know that," she tells me softly. "I mean ... intellectually. You can know something on a logical level and not care for it on the emotional level. But then ... I guess you probably never would have written anything ... if you were with me."

I can't help but feel touched by that ... shaken, too, but touched. That tells me that she really could have found me again. The only reason she didn't must have been because some part of her didn't want to....

At least I seemed to have gotten that part right.

I clear my throat, turning to stare at the wall of the Tsuruya shrine garden. "Y...you read my book?" I ask. A stupid question; she remembered the renga that Tsuruya, Kintaro, and I had made, those years ago. She'd memorized it. Stupid of me to include that in a published volume, in retrospect. Did I really think that Haruhi had forgotten my name?

Actually ... I think I might have believed that for a while. I was wrong, though, and it would hardly be the first time.

She laughs softly and shakes her head. "I've read all of your books," she clarifies. "It.... I was really shocked when I saw your first one. I saw your name ... really, it was kind of funny." She clears her throat and turns to stare at the clouds. "I lost that year of college, thanks to you, you know."

I flinch at that. "N...no?" I manage, surprised. "Well ... I thought I was holding you back, but that--"

"Oh, hell, no -- tell me you haven't been holding that over your own head for all those years?" she demands, eyes widening in incredulity. "I mean, damn, I thought you could be stupid sometimes, but seriously?"

"Not ... precisely," I say, shaking my head.

She sighs, relaxing very slightly. "Anyway, how did you end up here?"

"Um ... I ran away from ... everything for a while. I ran into Tsuruya-san near Kyoudai...."

"Looking for Mikuru-chan?" Haruhi asks, half-heartedly.

I shake my head again. "I wasn't there on purpose."

"Alright," she says reluctantly, raising her hands and sighing. "I'm not being a terribly good guest.... Ah, I'm reluctant, though. You're going to promise me that we're going to meet up again to talk? Like ... properly catch up? Even if I've read your books...." She shrugs. "You know. Tomorrow night, how about that? We can have dinner -- since you're doing so well, big-shot published poet, you can treat me, okay?"

Considering she's right that I had wronged her ... I do owe an explanation. It may not be pleasant, but I've had long enough to run. "Okay," I agree. "Um ... for various reasons, Kintaro spends some time with me during the week." Haruhi gives me a questioning look, and I quickly explain, "Tsuruya-san's husband passed away before Kintaro was born. Tsuruya-san and I are friends, so I help look out for him, where Tsuruya-san's husband can't."

"Ah," she sighs. Again, a strange mix of annoyance and satisfaction. It must just be that I can't read her as well as I once thought I could. If I ever really was very good at that. "And so, 'Uncle.'"

I nod in answer. "Um ... you're staying here, then?"

"For a few days," she allows. "Tsuruya-san...." She looks uncomfortable and places one hand on her side, sliding across her stomach as though brushing off some dust before resting it above her hip, looking away at the cloudy sky. "Well, for a few days." Her mouth quirks into a smile as her hand drops to her side, and she teases, "Inviting me to stay with you, then?"

I cough and shake my head urgently. I don't blush; I just feel like an idiot. I've had years of practice at that, though. "I'll come by tomorrow to pick you up and treat you to lunch," I offer. "Um ... and I know you haven't talked to Nagato in a while, so, that might be nice, too...."

Haruhi's eyes first go wide, and then she looks briefly furious, both hands dropping to her sides and clenching into fists. Then she relaxes and forces her gaze away, her breathing still slightly quickened. "Well, shit," she says quietly. "So, you and her, then?"

"What?" I reply, uncertain. What does she think?

She shakes her head quickly. "Just.... Oh, well ... I thought she liked you, you know?" she asks, though it's not really a question. "Um ... so, you know, Mikuru-chan walks off one day. A few years later, even though I tried, you ran away.... And when I told Yuki, she vanished, too!" She stills herself, forcing that smile that I'm starting to realize is a mask ... more natural than Koizumi's, but still a mask. "Ah ... but ... that was so long ago.... Lunch tomorrow, huh?"

I had no idea that Haruhi would have been mad at Nagato.

"Yeah...." I'm just full of good ideas today. "You know where I work, anyway, so...."

"Kyon-kun!" Tsuruya carols from the deck, leaning around the corner of the house and waving, Kintaro poking his head out from behind her and giving a huge grin. She beams a smile at us, then hops daintily down to the pathway, quickly trotting to my side. She turns her smile to Haruhi, a quick, worried glance between us briefly betraying her concern before she adds, "Haruhi! So, did you catch up?"

Kintaro doesn't replicate his mother's feat, instead trotting around to the steps, then rounding the corner eagerly. "A bit," Haruhi says, nodding. "There's just an awful lot to catch up about.... Um, a...anyway, we haven't really ... properly finished catching up ourselves, have we?"

"True!" Tsuruya agrees. "Um ... so ... Kyon-kun...." And she gives me a familiar, easily readable gaze.

"Hey, Kin-chan," I prompt the young boy, who bounces excitedly on his feet, looking between us all expectantly. "You know what? Suzumiya-san and your mother might want some privacy. How about staying over at my place tonight?"

"Okay!" he cheers. "Will Nagato-san be there? Or Auntie?"

"Ah...." I check my mental calendar. Tomorrow night was originally planned to be a 'family' dinner night -- Tsuruya, Kintaro, and 'Auntie' (my sister) over to join Nagato and I. Tsuruya liked the idea of a weekly tradition for Kintaro, and honestly, I didn't much mind. "Nagato, as always," I agree, mustering a smile. Judging by Haruhi's expression, she's keen on finding out the identity of my sister, but I'll ignore that for now; a harmless mystery she can unravel with Tsuruya's assistance while I try and clear my head.

Tsuruya pats Kintaro's shoulder. "Kin-chan, why don't you show Suzumiya-san to the sitting room? We should offer our guest a drink, too, shouldn't we? Now, I'll be along in a moment, but I wanted to ask Uncle for a little favor, alright?"

Haruhi glances between us, undoubtedly picking up at least some of the subtext, but nodding, beaming a smile at the boy. Once Tsuruya judges she's out of earshot, she turns back to me, bringing her hands together before her in an old nervous habit. "I'm sorry," she says with a quick shake of her head. "I didn't.... There was no warning-- I wanted to let you know, but she showed up...." She sighs, then gives a rueful chuckle. "Um ... so ... Kin-chan won't be any trouble?"

He never is. With his mother's disposition, and Tsuruya's dedication to ensuring that his upbringing mirrored her own.... "Of course not. And an excuse to get out just now is fine, too. Even so ... what do we get by running all the time, huh? Tomorrow, she'll be having lunch with me, and then...." Well, then I'm not actually sure.

It would be fair to say I've become complacent, especially in recent years. This doesn't mean I can't deal with the unexpected, though. Like water, I will simply follow the path of least resistance, down to the roots of the problem.

Tsuruya gives me a sympathetic nod.

"Did she say what brought her by, by any chance?" I ask. It's not exactly something we speak of ... but I had been under the impression that Haruhi was upset with Tsuruya. They'd been friends in high school, but Asahina-san's disappearance changed that. Haruhi believed that Tsuruya had to know where Asahina-san went and just wouldn't tell her--

After all, they'd taken the admission exam for Kyoudai together. Then again ... we've seen how well that translates into actually keeping tabs on one-another, haven't we? Add in my track record on being wrong about Haruhi, especially today.... What do I know?

"She said she's having some trouble with her parents," Tsuruya says with a shrug. "I don't know why.... At our age, well...."

She shifts her feet slightly, her hands still nervously together.

"Do you think ... she found Mikuru-chan?" she asks very softly.

I give an apologetic shake of my head. "I believe she would have said so, if she had. Anyway, I'll take care of Kin-chan for tonight, and walk him to school in the morning."

"Thankie," she agrees, giggling and ducking her head slightly. "I will find a way to make this up to you, Kyon-kun."

I give her a slight shake of my own head in return. "Let's not talk about debts between us," I say. She moves her hands apart and shifts one foot as though to close the tiny amount of distance between us, but instead just reaches out with one hand, pinching the fabric of my shirt sleeve.

"There's no obligation, only gratitude," she chides after a moment, sliding her fingers down to the cuff, near my wrist. "Now ... I'll speak with Haruhi."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then, when I come by to pick her up." Considering that Haruhi's here, we leave it at that. She releases my cuff and goes back to the rear entrance. I'm wearing outdoor shoes, not sandals, so I walk around to the front, giving my stinging shoulder one last rub.

After gathering Kintaro's supplies -- clothes, homework, the book he's reading -- the two of us walk back to my place. Kintaro, much like his mother, is curious, energetic, and very sharp. We're barely a block away from the estate before he stops talking about his verse to drop his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Uncle, Suzumiya-san is one of your really good friends, isn't she?"

"How did you get that, kiddo?" I ask, staring down at the boy with a smile. Might as well enjoy it while I can; he's probably going to end up being a little taller than me.

"Um...." He looks thoughtful, and a tiny bit mischievous. After eleven years, I know that look.... Not that I get a lot of chances to remind him not to be prideful. He's usually right when he thinks he's being clever. "Uncle only lets a few people call him 'Kyon.' Auntie and Mother, and Auntie says Uncle's parents, too. So, Suzumiya-san must be a good friend; not even Nagato-san calls you that nickname."

That's for different reasons, but ultimately, he's not far off the mark. "Well, you're right that I knew her from a long time ago. Suzumiya-san and I went to school together with Nagato."

Kintaro blinks at this, his smile improbably widening. "She seems nice!" he declares. "Auntie will really like her!"

He's more right on that one than he knows.

"Why don't I remember you or Mother speaking with her before, though?"

Maybe he's too sharp.... Then again, he's also very well behaved. "Honestly, I don't know if I can explain that, yet."

Kintaro snickers, then jibes, "Suzumiya-san is a new boulder in your sand arrangement, isn't she?"

The perils of raising a child on poetry and symbolism. Well, two can play at that game.

Not crossly -- never that -- I intone, "Manyoushuu -- number two hundred eight."

He's slightly taken aback by that and glances at the book he's carrying. He spends a moment thinking about it. Tsuruya's memory tricks, probably -- I never learned those ... different methods, I suppose, but this is another one of those areas where I know Kintaro will eventually surpass me.

We're nearly home before he remembers and flawlessly recites:

He looks confused, and only then do I realize my poor choice.... Of the hundreds of poems I've memorized, I picked that one.

"Is that it, then?" he asks me sidelong, not really sure what the deeper meaning might be.

"A change of subject, is all," I tell him, which is not entirely true. "But excellent work, Kintaro. You do your family proud." That part is entirely true. "Now, go ahead and say hello to Nagato -- but let me tell her that Suzumiya-san is in town."

He accepts that, nodding. Sometimes I wonder what goes through his head. I have a hard time imagining many children with such a philosophical insight. Though, he isn't lacking in his sciences, either. His grasp of language is absolutely unreasonable, though -- even Tsuruya admitted that she wasn't able to follow as much in the way of poetry at his age.

Bouncing on his heels, he spares only a glance for the gray sky before dashing to the doorway of Nagato's shop. I stop, surveying the street. When it's still, and there aren't many people.... Sometimes, I still get the sense that Kimidori Emiri, or Asakura Ryouko -- or worse, Suou Kuyou -- might whisk me off to some strange space....

Things like that seemed to happen too often in high school. After Haruhi went off for college, well ... not so much.

After I ran away, twice -- and both of those events very long ago.

Even if Haruhi is back, no moment of otherworldly abduction comes.

Nagato's shop is a bookstore, though she gets probably five customers a day. Actually, that could be a generous estimate. A best guess on my part that was slightly off ... but close enough. I guess that can be considered a success.

There was a time when she actually took pains to sort the inventory just like any other bookstore in town. These days, all of her actual business is on the internet, and the books are a sideline she maintains because it is convenient to have access to them. Her real work is recommendations.

I would not have considered that a viable field of work, personally -- but I say this acknowledging that I have published books of poetry. Well, being more honest ... Nagato has published books of my poetry. I probably don't do her job justice to describe it the way I do. Through an interesting mixture of mathematics and her own personal judgment, Nagato is able to suggest how a book can be changed in some subtle way to get more sales.

I'm not clear on what these subtle changes are, entirely.... Changing some character's name, shuffling a few minor plot elements around.... Whatever magic it is she does, it works, though, and those titles sell better.

Personally, I can't abide those books. It bothers me on a vague level that it works out that way, but I always feel that afterwards, I've read the worst, most generic, pandering piece of drivel ever. When I finally gathered the courage to ask her about it -- since I thought she was capable of far better -- she gave me the most amused look I've probably ever seen from her and explained that she only offered people solutions to improve sales, not quality.

I liked that bit, though.... Probably about a dozen different haiku on that theme are bouncing around my notebooks, but I haven't found one that I like enough to let her try to publish.

And then, naturally, I tried not to think about what it meant that she never offered suggestions on what I wrote.

My job is getting my hands dirty -- literally. Pruning, landscaping, maintaining the koi ponds.... Work is work, so I recognize that what she does is valid, even if I can't exactly understand how it gets done.

This leads to the fact that while the bottom floor of her building is ostensibly a bookstore, the volumes are sorted as Nagato likes. Aside from herself, who understands it best, I can decipher some sense of the layout -- meaning, if it's there, eventually I can find it. Kintaro is right behind me, rarely having difficulty finding things, either.

Some part of that boy is just good at figuring out patterns, I guess.

I enter the store, glancing at the somewhat irregular lines of bookshelves. Short enough that Nagato can see over them from her work area, arrayed in lines radiating out from her desk. There's a register there, but it's clearly secondary to the laptop she does her work on. The lighting is always bright, so everything is illuminated, and the place is always clean, always quiet.

At the moment, she's seated behind her desk, giving Kintaro the same look of grave contemplation that she always regards him with as he tries to stump her at classical poetry. A futile attempt, that, but you have to admire his willingness to try. It's a piece by Mansei Sami -- from the same volume I quizzed him on earlier.

He laughs when she finishes reciting it, then bounces on his tiptoes. "Nagato-san, is Uncle cooking tonight? Or are we having curry?" he asks. That total lack of tact reminds me that he is just eleven, though without a doubt, more charming than my sister at the same age.

Nagato considers this for a moment. Finally, she turns to me, deferring the decision with, "Uncertain."

During the winter, with less legitimate work at the Tsuruya estate, I usually spend some time helping Nagato out. She doesn't really need my help anymore, but she never complains. "Well, Kiddo ... udon tonight. Soup's good on a winter day." It also gives me a few hours to shop, prepare the broth, and generally try and get over my Haruhi-induced shock.

"Homework," Nagato remarks, turning her attention back to her laptop.

"You heard her," I chide Kintaro when he pouts. "Keep Nagato company for a bit while you work, alright? I've go to do some shopping for dinner." He obediently moves behind the counter, taking a seat at the register past Nagato and setting his backpack on the elevated surface. Turning to her, I ask, "Did you need anything?"

Already tapping away at her next project, she answers, "No."

I hesitate a moment, but leave before she can react.

I'm sure she notices anyway.

Free to lose myself in the comforting sameness of everyday shopping, I walk the few blocks over to the market district to collect what's needed for dinner. Walking around and perusing vegetables, it occurs to me that I'm still in a mild sort of shock.

I mean, my plan was to run away. I hadn't forgotten, but then, neither had I planned to reunite with Haruhi. My sister brings me the occasional letter that gets sent to my parents' home, reminding me of a high school reunion, but I'd quite intentionally ignored those. I guessed Nagato ignored hers, too, if she got any. Tsuruya invited me with her, once, but I passed on that, as well. It probably wouldn't have mattered, given that Haruhi and Tsuruya were different years, but I'd just as soon not run into Kimidori, either.

Within all that, I'd just gotten used to the way things were. I still thought about her, but that was never enough to prepare me for the reality of it.

I spend a few minutes trying to catch my breath -- sort this all out in my head. Probably I look like I'm obsessed with finding the world's most perfect daikon before I give up on the shopping excuse. I find a bench outside and sit down, just trying to clear my head of thoughts and breathe.

In, out. A deep inhalation, let the stress and disorder pool in my lungs, and exhale slowly, releasing the disharmony.

The people around me spare only a glance for just another tired thirty-something, catching his breath on a park bench.

I don't think I'll find it, but even there, shaken, uncertain, and unable to guess what will happen next, I reach my muse:

Not my best. It's still enough, though. That clears my state of mind and allows me to actually shop. Long routine allows me to exchange pleasantries with the area clerks that recognize me, and a few other familiar shoppers preparing for their own meals.

When I return home, Nagato's closed up the shop, so I go up the stairs on the side of the building to the second floor -- the apartments.

The light in my window is on, and the door is unlocked when I reach it. Kintaro is sitting at the kotatsu with Nagato, petting Shamisen. All three look up as I enter, Kintaro looking mildly annoyed, Nagato with her typical expression, save mild hints of concern.

"You know us old people," I tell Kintaro, before he can complain. "We move slower in winter."

"If you moved faster, you'd stay warmer!" he counters, smirking.

"That sounds suspiciously like effort. Here, I got you a taiyaki from the market," I tell him, picking one of the pastries from the top of the bag and showing it to him. "Wash up and you can have a snack before dinner -- if you're done with your homework, you can turn on the television."

"Sweet!" he chirps, wriggling out from under the table and dashing off to the washroom. Nagato looks amused as I put the treat back in the bag, then pull out another.

"I got you one, too."

She rises from the table before accepting it, then follows me into the kitchen. After I put down the groceries I study her for a moment, and she tilts her head slightly, studying me in return.

"Try a bite," I suggest.

She blinks, looking down at the treat curiously. She timidly takes a bite from the fish-shaped pastry, then blinks again. After considering the taste she remarks, "Chocolate."

From when I first met her, Nagato hasn't changed a whole lot physically. She gained maybe three centimeters in height, and her features sharpened very slightly, but that's about it. The only real striking difference is that her hair has grown longer, just past her shoulders.

Of course, that's just physically.

I don't really know how encountering Haruhi might affect Nagato at this point. I hadn't really considered the possibility of animosity between them, but judging by Haruhi's reaction earlier, I'm not doing anyone favors by ignoring it. I try and compose myself, hoping to set a mood, and maybe reassure Nagato.

While I'm contemplating, Kintaro eagerly trots into the room for his pastry, then describes a quick figure eight around us before retreating into the living room.

Taking another nibble of her taiyaki, she gives me a cool blink, her lips very slightly quirked in her usual tiny smile, though her eyes are mildly curious. She may not be as aware as she once was, but she's still razor sharp; she knows that something's bothering me.

I try anyway:

Maybe too many double-meanings at the last. She seems to like it anyway, quietly whispering, "Thank you." She takes another bite of her snack before placing it back in the wrapper and setting it down, giving me an expectant stare.

"Tsuruya-san had an unexpected guest today," I start, getting out the dishes for dinner.

She frowns, but moves to the sink to start washing vegetables. "Who?" she asks, her gaze going to the task at hand, away from me.

"It was Suzumiya Haruhi," I say cautiously.

Nagato freezes, one hand halfway to the tap, her brow furrowed in thought. After a long minute of contemplation, she says, "Damn."

I can't help but reflexively glance into the living room. Kintaro is too absorbed by his show to notice. "I invited her over for lunch tomorrow, but if it's a problem, I can just take her somewhere else."

Shaking her head slightly, Nagato resumes motion, efficiently washing the vegetables and handing them to me to cut. "If you will be there, then I am prepared," she says in return.

"Are you sure?"

She nods just as slightly. "It seems unlikely you wish to confront her alone."

Aha.... Well, then. "Thank you, Nagato."

After dinner, once Kintaro has been put to bed, I lie on my futon and stare at the ceiling. Instead of dreaming, which I would much rather be doing, I replay the events of those long ago years....

I was going to cheat on the national exam.

This was the plan, as explained to me. Invoking Godwin's Law, I'd call it the Final Solution of appeasing Haruhi -- courtesy of Koizumi.

To be clear, I was opposed to this. You'll understand my sincerity on that later. The idea was Koizumi's, or maybe his superiors'. It comes down to this, though. After clearing high school -- barely -- I traveled all the way to Tokyo, along with thousands of other hopefuls to take the test and get into Toudai.

Toudai was often considered the best college in Japan, and that was where Haruhi wanted to go. So, that's where we tested for admission. The four of us, at least.

No, wait ... step back further a bit. Let me explain more.

Asahina-san had left at the end of her third year -- the end of our second. She and Tsuruya had elected to go to Kyoudai, generally considered the second best college in all of Japan.

Ostensibly, at least. I knew where she was really going.... She did, too, though neither of us realized when it was actually going to happen. In retrospect, I think both of us had the impression that there would be more time, that something could be said, afterwards ... like there would be some satisfying denouement, where we could exchange tearful goodbyes.

Instead, she had taken a train to Kyoto, eager to test and come back, and then never been seen again.

Naturally, there were no parents to explain where she'd gone. Official investigations went nowhere, and Haruhi couldn't trace Asahina-san's steps through time, even if she insisted on following them otherwise. That had caused Haruhi an irritation that was further compounded by my near-failure in the academic realm.

This sounds bad, but follow it up with me taking the national exam ... and failing. Call it what you want, I didn't have the study I needed to get the admission score. Ultimately, there had been too many occasions where I just didn't have the time.... Small misadventures here and there ... some bigger ones.

So, a one year ronin. Haruhi made it in. Koizumi, barely. He confessed to me later that he made it by only two points, and that the time he spent dealing with closed space in those days was seriously cutting into his studies. Nagato had no trouble, obviously.

My parents were naturally less than pleased. Cue a full year of attending college preparatory courses -- more cram school, pretty much. It wasn't so terrible ... I genuinely had time to study. I hung out, spending what little free time I had with Taniguchi. Other than that, cramming, day in, day out.

Haruhi came by on occasion, but even with the bullet train, it wasn't exactly a quick trip. She'd tell me things about how college was going, and then lecture me about studies. Moreover, it was expensive, and all told, she didn't have that much money, either.

On to national exams, round two. I took the train to Tokyo -- with Haruhi, who had no reason to come, other than to encourage me. Koizumi and Nagato were there, as well.

I can say quite honestly, the second time, I failed on my own merit. No excuses of the supernatural delaying my study time, here. I could tell, mid-test. I knew right then I was going to be a second year ronin. I had the English, my history was just not quite sharp enough, and the higher math completely evaded me.

My score ultimately worked out to be some eighty five points short.

Becoming a second year ronin was not an easy transition. Taniguchi had aimed for an easier college, but then, he'd never tried Toudai the first time. It was somewhere off in the west, by Sasebo or Sakajima, I think. He made it in, so my study partner was gone. Haruhi was pissed, of course, but not nearly as much as my parents. They weren't particularly pleased with the idea that I kept on going after Toudai, either.

This meant moving out. Haruhi suggested that I go to Tokyo, that she'd find some place for me to stay and help me get the study I obviously needed.

I couldn't quite commit myself to that, even with no real other options. Eventually, while my parents were insisting that I try for a local college, something my scores would get me into, I wrangled a part-time job at an electronics supply store, doing shipping and receiving. My parents gave me just enough extra to get by, and I studied even harder.

Which brings us to the pivotal moment.

I didn't often have guests in the crappy one-room apartment I lived in but did not consider home. Aside from Haruhi, Koizumi was probably about the only one. "It's quite simple," he told me, sitting on the other side of the table. "Suzumiya Haruhi expects that you will succeed. Third time's a charm, hmm?"

My crummy furniture was buried under discarded study guides. In fact, both of us were using them as coasters. Not really out of any desire to protect the table, as much as recognition of the fact that there would be no point to moving them aside. "I appreciate that ... but this isn't new. If you're bringing it up again, then there's some deeper significance to the situation, this time?"

"It's like this," Koizumi said slowly. "She expects that you will succeed. She is ... significantly distressed about your previous results."

Thanks for that update. "No, really?"

"We aren't entirely certain how this distress is going to present itself," he said, somewhat crossly. "At this point, it has been some time since there has been a manifestation of her power in this world, outside of closed space. We suspect -- and Nagato-san agrees -- that there could be ... dire consequences, depending on your test scores."

I surveyed my surroundings. My worn bedding, the stack of dishes on the sink, the ancient CRT television my father gave me as a going-away present. Clothes, untidy piles of necessities.... That was really almost it. The most impressive thing I had was my laptop from the old SOS Brigade clubroom, and that didn't even work work unless it was directly connected to power.

"Yeah, that must be bad," I grumbled. "What's your point? What's going to happen?"

"If you don't test well, then our suspicions are that ... facts themselves may be altered to suit your answers. Naturally, this is undesirable, because...."

He didn't quite say it, but I felt the implication were clear. I dropped my gaze to the latest study guide, almost entirely filled out. "So.... What's the plan, then?"

"We haven't managed to get anyone inside to let us replace or falsify your test, which would simplify things," he said, shaking his head. Which meant Nagato's bosses didn't seem inclined to interfere. "So ... the plan is relatively straightforward. We will have a lookalike borrow your identification and take the test for you."

And then, I wondered, though I didn't ask, what about classes? If I couldn't legitimately get in ... how was I to actually do well? Add in the fact that, even if it did satisfy Haruhi that I got in with her, at two years behind, we had little chance of getting common classes. At that point, I started to question why it would matter.

When she finished classes, I'd still be two years behind.

So, this was the last hope. Someone else would have to make up for my lack, because Haruhi had to get her way. If I took the test and did poorly, the world would end?

I didn't know why I felt that ... maybe it was pride. Maybe it was fatigue. I looked at the options as they presented themselves, and asked myself, what was the winning move?

What little time I had not working or studying was spent reading philosophy books and poetry, because, hey, as an aspiring college student, isn't that what I was supposed to be doing? I came to like some parts of the Taoist ideal, though I felt that I was inwardly too troubled to really follow it. Still, that suggested the most simple outcome....

It wasn't like the decision came to me in a flash. The idea did. But when I first considered it, it wasn't something I was confident I could actually do. At the same time ... it seemed valid. It was an answer.

Haruhi couldn't accept me failing the test. I didn't believe I could honestly pass it.

Koizumi posed one alternative, where my inability was irrelevant, and the next situation would present itself. It required almost no effort on my part.

Or I could do even less. If I didn't take the test, then I couldn't fail it.

I had to remove myself from the equation.

This was actually easier to accomplish than one might have expected. I mean ... I suppose, in some small way, I was hoping that I'd screw it up ... that it wouldn't be the end of my association with the friends I had. Except ... that had already happened. Haruhi and the others had spent the better part of two years in Tokyo, while I remained back home in Nishinomiya studying for nothing.

Haruhi came to escort me to the train station.... Not in force. This time it was just her. No Nagato, no Koizumi.

And it had been years since we last saw Asahina-san.

I had everything important to me in a bag; what few possessions I had left, anyway. Most of the older things, those childhood relics, were safely enshrined in my parents' home. Not that we really got along that well, what with them thinking I had signed up for a college I might actually pass the test for.

Koizumi had previously assured me that it wouldn't be much of a problem to switch my identification with my supposed double on the way into the test hall. Surely once I got in, all would be forgiven?

It wasn't going to come to that, though.

Haruhi had tickets for the bullet train. We hadn't talked much after she came to meet me at my apartment. She just fidgeted with the exam ticket she had asked to hold for me. I mean ... well, why not, though? I lacked the competence to succeed at the test, so maybe I could lose the pass, too, right?

While we waited at the platform, she turned to me, the corners of her mouth twisting down with distaste. Over the last three years, while Asahina-san had been gone, Haruhi had grown her hair out ... not as long as it was when she first started high school, but growing pretty steadily.

"Kyon," she began hesitantly, her eyes flicking to me, then away, studying the empty berth where the train would stop. "Um ... so, I've been thinking about this a lot. About when you get into Toudai, I mean -- and seriously, it's taken you long enough!"

She stole another annoyed glance at me and I saw it, for a moment. She really had decided that, somehow, I would get a passing result. I knew I couldn't, though. And, really, Koizumi's organization had so little faith in me, I wasn't even going to be given the option to try.

"Yeah," I answered, staring at the boarding schedule. I never was good at lying.... Especially to her.

"Well ... y...you're behind in studies, you know, so.... Um, listen -- it's already decided, I mean. I'm getting an apartment near the college, and...." She moodily glanced up at the glass roof overhead. "We lost Mikuru-chan ... so...." She hesitated again, staring at her feet.

What does it say for me that, she has so much trouble picking her words then? There was a time she'd say anything without a whit of hesitation, just letting out what she thought. But there?

"Uh.... Y...you can't have Shamisen at that place you're staying now, right?"

"No ... though it's so small, I think even he would hate it."

"Well," she started, furrowing her brow, "t...the place I'm thinking of allows.... Ah...."

On the verge of saying something, she instead stomped on one foot and shifted her shoulders. Her head shook, and she looked upset, annoyed about something.

"We should have enough time to get something to eat before your test," she said instead, changing the subject. "There's a place not far from the campus where they make some great ramen -- I think you'll really like it!"

I felt sick and miserable, though when she glanced at me, she took it for pre-test jitters. Why was it that Haruhi was so set on the SOS Brigade banding together? Well, trying to hold together.... How could she not recognize that, at the end of the day ... I just didn't have what it took to keep up? There she was, offering to help me out by taking care of my cat when I got into Toudai. Reading between the lines, she probably already paid the pet deposit on her apartment. Just so she could keep me close?

I'd had the expectation for a long while that I wouldn't be able to keep up with Haruhi. I mean, she was super-gifted at everything she does. She has no real comprehension -- even though she herself was my primary tutor -- how much easier it was for her over me. In absolutely everything. There was no field she didn't excel at, above and beyond my ability, if she set herself on doing it. So, what hope did a mere mortal have of really impressing her? Add in the fact that the one area I knew things she didn't ... I could never tell her about. Let's face it, anyone would feel inadequate in my place, given enough time.

Even so, it was the manner of my inadequacy that managed to stagger me.

I'll confess, the signs were there, but I didn't see it coming. Obviously, for it to be bothering her as much as it had ... she didn't either. So, at the end of the day, I just couldn't make the cut. I thought it would be some realization of her power that would be the thing that separated us ... not me running away from the fact that I just wasn't good enough.

And then, no matter how you look at it, even if she tried her hardest.... I'd become a charity case. In the best case scenario, I'd be an endearing loser -- not genuinely able to participate on the level. Letting that sensation fester for a few years....

Don't get the wrong idea. I didn't have anything against Haruhi. At that point, as long as we'd known each other, she really was trying to be a friend to me. We can thank Asahina-san for that, I suppose. It was just that ... I was tired. I couldn't deal with it anymore.

So ... when the train was boarding, I waited until the last moment and slipped back off the car while Haruhi was looking for seats. For a moment, when the doors shut, before it lurched into motion, I was afraid that being herself, she would pull the emergency brake.

But then, you've just listened to me complain about how sorry I was feeling for myself because she's much smarter than I will ever be. She understood well enough. She knew I wasn't lost. She made it to a window, so I saw her for one last moment before the train sped away.

She looked bewildered, angry.... Beneath that, she looked determined.

And so ... I ran.

A hard life lesson: We don't always get what we want.

I couldn't think of any other way to get the point across.

Really ... for myself, as much as her.