[FFML] [Haruhi] [Dark] Error in Calculation: Chapter Three

[Brian Randall]

No, really, I'm double-checking this time. >_<

I'll post more ... well, later.  If you deleted the original chapter
two (subject line said it was 'one'), and would like another copy,
it's here: http://www.chez-vrolet.net/pipermail/ffml/2010-March/thread.html
or you can pester me for a direct e-mail (I don't mind).


     Error in Calculation

     Chapter Three: The Third Morning

    	A 'Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi' fanfiction.

	Disclaimer: The novel 'Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuutsu'/'The Melancholy of
Suzumiya Haruhi' is the creation of Nagaru Tanigawa.  No disrespect is
intended by the posting of this fanfiction, as I do not own the
characters or settings involved.  I'm merely dabbling with another set
of paints.  ;)

     Additionally, a character or two is borrowed from Higurashi,
which is the creation of Ryukishi07, but don't read too much into
that.
	---------------------------------
     The third day was the worst so far.

     She woke up in the same bed as Yuki again, though the smaller
girl's eyes were open when she roused.  Did she even sleep?  Was she
worried about Kyon, too?

     Yuki said that Emiri was resting, presumably in the other room,
but when Haruhi surreptitiously tried the door, it was locked tight.
It didn't even rattle against the catch.

     The slight girl still didn't speak much, but made breakfast for
both of them, and then led the way to school from her apartment.  The
rain had stopped, but cloud cover trapped the sweltering heat close to
the city surface, making the trudge even less pleasant than usual.
Despite her tiny frame, Yuki seemed to ignore the heat.

     Haruhi wondered how she could keep her cool, but was beginning to
realize there was an awful lot about the bookworm she'd never learned.

     They got to school early to find police waiting at all gates,
checking identifications of student and teacher alike before allowing
entry.  Outside of the front gate, a small crowd of reporters stood,
some photographing the school, most taking down notes.  The
close-mouthed police officers said nothing, except to ask for
identification, and did not respond to any questioning.

     All of the classrooms were closed and locked, with the students
instructed to assemble as they had for the opening ceremony, to listen
to an address from the principal.  She heard the words he said, but
the meaning somehow escaped her.  The gist of it matched her fears,
but the only part she was able to remain cognizant of was the fact
that today would not be a class day, but a day of memorial, and that
all club activities would be suspended until further notice.  After a
further repetition of the warning that students should travel in
groups, they were released.

     The teachers led the way solemnly, streaming towards the main
building to unlock the classrooms.  Her eyes picked out Okabe, his
million-dollar smile shelved for the moment, replaced with a sour
grimace.  She spotted Kunikida, too but he looked like everyone else;
how she felt.  Shaken and unbelieving.

     Despite all that, she clung to the hopes that she would see _him_
again, and lingered in the field, searching.  Yuki stood by her side,
watching the other students silently.  After a few wasted minutes, the
pair of them hurried to class 1-5.  A strong smell of bleach lingered
in the air, even with all the windows opened.  Some of the desks and
chairs were unmistakably new.  But when she approached her own desk,
the knot of students that had gotten there first parted, letting her
see the seat in front of hers.

     On the surface of his desk stood a small vase with a bouquet of
white flowers.

     She could only stare, her heart skipping erratically.

     She felt the classroom around her spinning, and fell to her
knees, still wishing she could refute it.  The memorial flowers on
Kyon's desk ... she could try and tell herself the principal had never
said _Kyon_, because he had used the boy's real name.  She knew that
name, had remembered it and treasured it, waiting for the day she
could call him by that instead of his nickname, to watch his
impossible, implacable expression vanish, replaced with a surprised
smile...

     ...but that day could never come, now.  She blinked away tears
she hadn't realized were forming in her eyes, until a hand patted her
shoulder, and someone held a handkerchief out to her.  She took it
numbly, only realizing after the fact who had given it to her.  At her
side, glaring at the surrounding students as though daring them to say
a single word or continue staring at her, was Taniguchi.

     She unsteadily climbed to her feet, turning to face him shakily.
His assumed sophistication and suave was nowhere in sight.  He didn't
look or behave like a stalker.  For a single moment, she actually felt
something like a kindred spirit in him; they both knew, they both
lost....

     His eyes didn't meet hers.  "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

     "W...why were they asking about you?" she returned, just as quietly.

     If anything, Taniguchi's expression became darker, fell even
further.  "I found him," he said hoarsely.  "They asked me a lot of
questions.  I don't want to talk about it."   Then his gaze met hers,
and the illusion of a shared moment vanished.  She could see the hurt
in his eyes, but it could never approach what she was feeling.  He
would never understand, not truly.  He hadn't changed that much from
middle school, even if he wasn't being his usual, desperate self at
the moment.

     She nodded, then turned away from Kyon's desk, plodding
listlessly towards the hallway.  Yuki was still there, waiting for
her, watching as always.  But before she could reach the doorway,
another familiar voice reached her.

     "Suzumiya-san!  How are you doing?"

     She ignored the question, taking another step forward, until that
same voice called out again.

     "Isn't this astounding?"

     "Hey," she heard Taniguchi growl, "just leave her alone, alright?"

     "I don't need you to look out for me," she retorted, realizing
she wasn't certain which student she was rebuking, the unusually stoic
Taniguchi, or the ever-cheerful Ryouko.

     Not Taniguchi, she decided, clutching the handkerchief he'd lent her.

     The class representative's signature smile had only faded the
slightest bit.  "I'm surprised," Ryouko said after a moment, and
Taniguchi sighed in disgust, turning away and taking his seat.  The
other students watched them silently.

     "What's so surprising?" Haruhi asked, a current of emotions
running through her ... but she didn't have time to feel them.  They
didn't matter.

     "It's strange, really," Ryouko said, her tone musing.  "Just a
few days ago, you were sitting behind him, and you said you wanted the
world to be more interesting.  That all of this was boring!  But now
that something happens, you don't seem very interested.  What a pity!
I suppose he died for nothing?"

     The emotions she had been trying to deny exploded to the surface,
and everything happened at once.  Taniguchi stood so abruptly he
knocked over both his chair and desk, turning around to glare at the
class representative.  The surrounding students flung themselves
backward against the walls of the classroom, eyes and mouths widening
in stupefied amazement.

     Someone was screaming promises of murder at Asakura Ryouko, and
Haruhi herself felt vaguely bemused as she watched her own fist slam
into the other girl's cheek.  A gasp escaped the surrounding students,
and Kunikida launched himself at Taniguchi, hanging onto the larger
boy and pulling him back before he could storm towards Ryouko and get
involved.  Okabe merely stared, frozen in horror, useless as always.

     Inexplicably, someone seized Haruhi almost instantly, pulling her
away before she could try throwing another punch.  Ryouko's smile had
faded an additional, tiny increment, but her expression was more
puzzled than anything else.  Other than her head turning slightly to
one side from the blow, she hardly seemed to react at all.

     It wasn't until she was dragged into the hall that she realized
the screaming voice was her own, and she released it with a broken
sob, collapsing into whoever was dragging her away.

     ***

     Nagato Yuki waited for the precise moment when she calculated
that Kimidori Emiri and her faction would agree that matters had
escalated to the point of required action before intervening.  Her own
view noted the risks of the primary retaliating against the
observation subject, or doing something potentially more damaging.

     "Take care, okay?" the primary called to the observation subject,
though her gaze connected with Nagato Yuki's.  "I hope you feel better
soon, Suzumiya-san!"

     Nagato denied all open-channel requests and burnt a tiny amount
of the limited PPC bandwidth she shared with Emiri: "Observation
subject in critical emotional state; primary is attempting to catalyze
reaction."

     While her senses and sensors were evenly divided between the
primary and her observation target, she was aware of the figures
charging down the hall towards them.  Local law enforcement official
sub-administrator Oishi, and assistant functionaries.

     She appended: "Possible issues with local law enforcement.
Observation subject's emotional state will be further stressed."

     Emiri's response was carefully considered: "Acknowledged.  Will
coordinate at nearest adherent spacial coordinates; can intervene on
emergency signal if required."

     The observation subject went limp in her grasp, and her social
monitor was outputting a continuous log of error activity, so she
carefully released her grip.  Instead of rushing back towards the
primary, as her predictive modules had suggested, the observation
subject spun, seizing her and bawling into her uniform.  Her local
libraries identified the action as a gesture requesting solace.

     She ignored her social monitor and gently hugged the taller girl,
as the large form of Oishi stopped directly between her and the
primary.  "Alright," he said, voice tinged with modulation indicating
vast emotional stress, though at a level below the standard threshold
for normal human recognition.  "That's quite enough of that.
Suzumiya-san, Nagato-san, come with me."  He turned around.
"Asakura-san, please come with my," voice hitch, indicating an almost
undetectable hesitation; uncertainty; the following information was
either inaccurate or an obfuscation, "partner, Akasaka-san.
Taniguchi-san, you too."

     "Pass," Taniguchi spat.  "I don't need to share a car with that bitch."

     Even from behind, Nagato registered body language indicative of
increased frustration in Oishi's frame.  "Fine," he growled.
"Yamada-kun, Taniguchi wants a return to our hospitality instead of a
ride home."

     "Gladly accepted," Taniguchi's voice replied, steeped in tones
and inflections that conveyed significant measures of derision.  "A
holding cell is more comfortable than being in the same car as
Asakura."

     The collective gasp and intake of breath from the surrounding
students at that remark triggered a reaction from Nagato's usually
dormant emotive processor.  She didn't have the time to analyze the
reason for it, but her database quickly identified it as smugness.

     Taniguchi's tone suddenly softened, and he added, "Despite all
that ... my only request is that I get to write a farewell message in
Kyon's memorial book before I go."

     "Yeah," Oishi grumbled.  "I've got a heart.  No matter the
circumstances, everyone will get a chance for that.  Akasaka-san?"

     More output escaped Nagato's emotive processor before she
returned it to the sandboxed environment.  The observation subject was
still in her arms, trembling with various emotions that had yet to be
sorted.  The vast majority of them were negative, and Nagato briefly
wondered how a simpler life form could possibly cope with trying to
process them all, before archiving the idea for later consideration.
"We would like to go," she said aloud.

     Oishi turned around, still frowning.  "You don't want to sign?

     Nagato considered the significance of the gesture briefly.  It
was part of the process of identifying that an organic life form had
ceased functioning.  But even if she were to write in the book, what
would she say?  Her emotive processor registered several answers for
her, and she suppressed it again.  "Not at this time," she answered,
following a social cue from her monitor and turning her gaze to the
observation subject's sobbing frame.

     "Well ... that's fair.  Alright, come with me, please."

     Suzumiya Haruhi's tears continued until they had reached the edge
of the school property, where Kimidori Emiri was already waiting.
"Oh, dear," she said, halting a few steps short of Oishi, when the
detective fixed her with a wary gaze.  "Ah, sir, Nagato Yuki is my
cousin; I'm Kimidori Emiri.  May I accompany her?"

     "Cousin," Oishi repeated, both interfaces sharing a quick glance
at the doubt hidden in his tone.  "Fine.  I was just taking these
girls home."

     The observation subject was reluctant to let go of her, so the
two of them sat in the back seat.  Emiri sat in the front, next to
Oishi, and the interface with the better social module directed Oishi
to the apartment where Nagato Yuki and the primary both resided.

     ***

     Itsuki woke up breathing heavily, body shaking with the intensity
and ferocity of emotions running through his head.  Suzumiya's
emotions, he realized, before all thought was blanked away.

     Mori was leaning over him, the back of her hand pressed to his
forehead.  Her eyes were full of concern, and he realized she'd found
time to change clothing to something more casual.  She offered him a
comforting smile and rose away.  "Sorry," she said.  "You seemed to be
having a troubled dream."

     He sat up, rubbing at his face.  "She found out," he groaned.
Suzumiya's horror and fury echoed in the back of his skull, each
throbbing reverberation igniting another spark of closed space
somewhere.  He had been right, unfortunately; his fellow espers could
travel nearly anywhere through the overlapped closed spaces.  Shinjin
were already stirring in several of them.

     "So, is it bad?" she asked.

     Something on his face conveyed it before he could speak.

     "I see," she said, sighing.  "I'll get you something to eat.
Arakawa got you some new clothes, and this is the master bedroom, so
you can use the shower if you like.  Would you care for coffee?"

     "Real coffee," he answered, rubbing his face again.  "No cream,
no sugar."  After a moment, he realized he was addressing Mori, not a
servant, and added, "Please."

     Mori raised an eyebrow, but nodded, leaving the room.  He rose to
his feet, stripping off the high school uniform he had exhaustedly
collapsed in.  By his reckoning, he hadn't had nearly enough sleep,
given everything he'd already been through.

     He stumbled into the shower and tried to remember arriving at the
safe-house.  He didn't have a key, and didn't want to be seen
approaching -- but fortune, so to speak, had been on his side.  Closed
space overlapped the apartment, so he was able to cross back into the
real world in the main room.  Other than Arakawa seizing him and
holding a knife to his throat for the few seconds it took recognition
to kick in, it had worked, too.

     After cleaning himself off, feeling slightly more awake, but
still bone-tired, he walked back into 'his' master bedroom, and
changed into the new clothes that Mori had set out for him.  Not too
new -- the tags had been taken off, and they'd been washed at least
once.  When he was finished dressing, he stepped into the main room,
where Mori was just setting a steaming mug of coffee on the table.  A
glance outside revealed an uncomfortably monochrome sky, pounding rain
hammering against the windows.

     "Good morning," he said bleakly, falling into his chair and
sipping cautiously at his coffee.  Untouched, as he preferred.  Mori
took a seat opposite him after setting a plate before him.  He eagerly
dug into the over-sized omelet she had prepared, shoveling it away too
quickly to taste it.

     "Good morning," she said, smiling somewhat doubtfully.  "Will
that be enough?  I'm not sure if it helps, when you spend that time in
closed space, but...."

     "It's fine," he said around a mouthful.  "I got the other espers
on my side, more or less.  Any luck on your side?"

     "Arakawa established contact with the Tamaru brothers," Mori said
with a nod.  "We have fairly good, but not flawless intel from the
police."

     Itsuki grunted, taking another sip of his coffee.

     "They don't know where Asahina Mikuru is either.  Or who killed
... your friend."

     "Do they have any suspects?"

     "Neither Tamaru is central on the case; they're both patrol
officers, and that's detective work.  However, there are 'persons of
interest' in the murder.  Nagato Yuki, Suzumiya Haruhi, Asakura
Ryouko, Asahina Mikuru, and ... yourself."

     Itsuki snorted.  "Having my lookalike leave the country would
probably do that," he grumbled.  "That's fine.  I won't go anywhere I
can't slip into closed space at a moment's notice.  Nagato's a TFEI
... and they really think Suzumiya-san could have done it?  Anyway, I
don't know much about Asakura Ryouko.  Class representative for 1-5?
Who's she with?"

     "We can't see their point of view, and we know a lot they can't
imagine," Mori answered with a shrug.  "So, they may believe Suzumiya
did it.  It's not like we could tell them otherwise.  Unfortunately,
my best guess is that Asakura Ryouko is another TFEI.  More
importantly, we have an update on Suzumiya's whereabouts."

     The esper raised an eyebrow, still shoveling his breakfast away.

     "She's currently staying with Nagato Yuki ... so unless Suzumiya
imposed on her, Nagato or her superiors have chosen to act directly."

     Pausing to swallow and catch his breath, Itsuki shook his head.
"So, none of their suspects are plausible ... unless it was Asahina
Mikuru.  I've always suspected her behavior and outward appearance
were a ploy ... but I can't see that she would bother with something
like that.  She could crush Suzumiya-san's will through less violent
but equally, um, direct methods, if that was actually her goal."

     "Seduction instead of murder?"

     Itsuki resumed eating at a slower pace, nodding, his face
coloring slightly at Mori's casual mention of the word.  What was
wrong with him, where he could discuss murder without flinching, but
the idea of Kyon being seduced bothered him?  Maybe it was that he
didn't see Kyon actually falling for it?

     He suddenly didn't want to think about it any further, and didn't
feel like eating any more.

     "Well, at any rate, even though you believe Asahina-san wouldn't
do such a thing, others in the Organization might think differently.
So we have to bank on Asahina-san being in _someone's_ custody, even
if we don't know who."

     Itsuki pushed his plate away and wiped his mouth with a napkin,
pulling the large mug of coffee closer.  "I don't think trying to pull
her into closed space is going to cut it if she's in the custody of a
TFEI," he said sourly.  "We have to hope it's specifically the
Organization, and hopefully somewhat nearby.  If it's not...."

     Arakawa turned from fiddling with a radio scanner, pulling his
headphones off.  "Asakura has been taken into police custody, along
with Taniguchi.  Suzumiya and Nagato are being questioned as well.
According to Tamaru's last message, there's another girl with them --
Kimidori Emiri."

     "Another girl?" Itsuki mused.  "Not a friend of Suzumiya-san's
... unless she somehow missed all of our monitoring?"

     "Tamaru said he overheard Kimidori claiming to be a cousin of
Nagato's," Arakawa clarified.  "So she would likely also be a TFEI."

     "Three TFEIs?" Mori pondered, frowning.  "We're going to be
disastrously out of our depth if we try and confront them.  Well,
Itsuki ... what do you think?"

     He drained his coffee, contemplating.  "Maybe we're giving them
too much credit," he assessed, setting the empty mug down.  "This
could be a long shot, but how confident are we that the integrated
data sentience entity is united?  Our own Organization just split ...
could they also have faults?"

     "No one and nothing is perfect," Mori agreed, glancing at Arakawa.

     Arakawa picked up the headphones, and held them against one ear.
"Does this mean that we take the police theories at face value and
look at Asakura Ryouko as the prime suspect?" he asked.

     "Until a better explanation comes along," Itsuki agreed.  "So ...
we assume that her faction, or whatever, decides to ... kill Kyon, but
Nagato's faction doesn't agree.  Nagato then watches Suzumiya ... but
we don't know why that happens, either.  And this doesn't account for
Asahina Mikuru.  Once we bring in TFEIs who are willing to kill...."
He swallowed, a sour taste filling his mouth.  "We don't even know for
certain that she's still alive.  And if she is alive, the smartest
thing for her to do would be to leave this time-frame immediately, and
she's not stupid."

     "More questions than answers," Mori sighed, shaking her head.
"This makes the new TFEI a whole new book of questions."

     "Too much to think about," Itsuki said, staring into his empty
coffee mug.  "I'm going to try and see if I can take out some isolated
closed spaces, keep in touch with the other espers."

     "Take care of yourself," Mori insisted, before he shifted into
that colorless world and embraced his power.

     ***

     Akasaka Mamoru watched Suzumiya Haruhi and Nagato Yuki follow
Oishi down the hall, then turned around, nodding at Yamada and the
other detective, who he hadn't learned the name of.  From a technical
standpoint, despite posing as a detective, he didn't have the
authority to perform police actions; he was supposed to behave in a
more administrative capacity.

     Taniguchi allowed himself to be led away without complaint after
writing a brief note in the memorial book.  Akasaka then took the book
and flipped to another page, presenting it to Asakura.  She looked at
it curiously, then gave a tiny shrug and scrawled her own message,
which he glanced at: "It was fun, Kyon-kun~!  Thank you for watching
over Suzumiya-san~!"

     He ignored the shiver down his spine, then set the book back on
the podium before the trembling form of Okabe.  "Apologies for the
disruption," he said to the class at large.

     "Yes, sorry for any trouble!" Asakura Ryouko said sweetly, bowing
to her class.  "Do we have to go now?"

     He nodded at her warily, leading the way out the door.  Once they
were in the hall, though he suspected a few students would be able to
hear him anyway, he instructed, "Walk ahead of me, please.  Straight
down the corridor and to the first floor -- front entrance."

     "Okay," she chirped, still agreeable.

     What was it that Oishi had gotten from her?  There was something
undeniably off about the girl, and he doubted that he would need the
expertise of the NPA handwriting analyst to positively identify her
handwriting as a match to the note found on Student K's body.  He
understood what Oishi meant about Nagato Yuki sharing some of the same
traits, and he expected that the detective had also caught the fact
that despite her small frame and supposedly lower athletic scores ...
she was able to physically restrain Suzumiya Haruhi without visible
effort.

     It would be a minor abuse of standards and regulations, but they
had the easily readied excuse that Asakura Ryouko's parents were
genuinely unreachable to detain her for questioning.

     After changing shoes, keeping a sharp eye on Asakura Ryouko the
entire time, Akasaka gestured to nearest police officer, glancing at
his name-tag briefly.  "Tamaru-san, I need you to accompany me to the
station house."

     Tamaru saluted sharply, his eyes fixed on Asakura.  "Yes, sir!  I
have a car outside the gate."

     "Hmm," Asakura mused, "what is this about, I wonder?"

     Tamaru wordlessly led the way, occasionally shooting nervous
glances backward at the high school girl they were escorting.  Was
something about this girl off to the uniformed officer as well?
Akasaka didn't know, but he knew he didn't like it, either way.

     After putting Asakura in the back seat of the car, Akasaka sat
next to her, directly behind Tamaru to keep her as far from the driver
as possible.  Even as the officer was starting the car, rain began to
fall from the sky again.  Tamaru remained wordless.

     "Don't I have a right to know what I'm being taken away for?"
Ryouko asked.  "I was certain that's how the law worked in this
country, and minors are supposed to be specially protected, too,
aren't they?"

     "Be that as it may," Akasaka replied, "we have the authority to
bring you in for questioning at least.  And you don't need to be
charged with anything to be questioned as a person of interest."

     "Oh, really?  I'm quite typical; there's nothing remarkable about
me.  How could I possibly be a person of interest?"

     Akasaka fought the urge to look away from her.  "We can worry
about that at the station.  If it's all the same, until that point,
I'd rather defer conversation."

     "Well, if you like!" the girl replied cheerily.

     ***

     Oishi's day was not going well.  Halfway to the apartment complex
where he knew that Nagato Yuki and Asakura Ryouko both lived, rain
began to sheet down in thick, pounding waves.  Emiri sat in the
passenger seat to one side demurely, a soft, sad smile on her face,
her features carefully composed.

     Too carefully, in Oishi's mind.

     Behind him, Haruhi trembled, clinging to Yuki as though the
smaller girl were a life preserver, seemingly oblivious of the outside
world.  Nagato Yuki's eyes stared straight forward, looking out the
window and blinking occasionally.  Her expression was almost
completely impassive.  While Oishi suspected there were traces of
emotion there, he didn't have time to pick them out in a rear-view
mirror while driving through a sheeting storm.

     They got to the parking lot, and Oishi parked in another
resident's spot, not caring for the trouble he was causing at the
moment.  Emiri had brought a pair of umbrellas with her, and gave one
to Yuki, keeping the other for herself.

     Oishi didn't ask to share, and endured the march to the lobby
until Emiri opened the front door in the pelting rain.  "I'd like to
ask Suzumiya-san and Nagato-san a few questions," he said aloud.  "Or
maybe just Nagato-san, if Suzumiya-san isn't up for it."

     Emiri glanced at the two girls, Haruhi still clutching onto
Nagato beneath a shared umbrella.  Oishi wasn't certain how it was
established that Emiri would be the spokesperson for the two, but it
seemed to be the case.  The placid, calm-looking girl brushed a single
damp strand of hair from her face, remarking, "I think that
Suzumiya-san should be allowed to rest."

     "I can answer questions," Nagato answered tonelessly.  Emiri took
the shorter girl's umbrella and folded it away, placing both in a
communal bin in the lobby before summoning the elevator.  Oishi eyed
the small elevator car, then decided, "I'll be up to your apartment
shortly.  Go on without me; I need to radio back to headquarters."

     Emiri and Nagato nodded in perfect unison, boarding the car.  An
apartment custodian, an aged man, peered at Oishi in consternation
over a short counter.  "Manager," Oishi called to him, "I need you to
leave that security door open for me until I get back.  I'm also going
to borrow one of these umbrellas."  The old man furrowed his brow, and
in response Oishi flashed his badge.

     After stepping outside and walking far enough away from the
apartment building to collect his thoughts, Oishi lit another
cigarette and called his NPA counterpart directly.  "This is Akasaka,"
the representative answered instantly.

     "Akasaka-kun, this is Oishi -- sorry about the abruptness of
this, but I want to request a background check."

     "Oh?  Alright.  Who for?"

     "The name is Kimidori Emiri, I'm not certain which kanji --
supposedly she's a cousin of Nagato Yuki."

     There was the sound of Akasaka calling something to someone else,
his hand muffling the receiver for a minute before he came back.
"Alright, I'll see what I can do, but before that, any particular
reason?"

     "Eh ... call me paranoid if you like, but I'm getting that odd
signal from her, too.  Speaking of which, how's Asakura-san behaving?"

     Akasaka's words contrasted his tone as he growled, "Like a model
citizen.  I've got her alone in an interview room to sweat her, but I
think we both know she's not going to be fazed in the slightest."

     Oishi nodded, puffing on his cigarette before he realized the NPA
agent wouldn't see the gesture.  "Ah.  Alright.  If you want to
interview her without me, go ahead -- just take Aida to handle the
official duties.  In the meantime, I'm going to try and get some more
answers from Nagato Yuki.  Do we have an incident report from that
mess at the school?"

     "An officer at the scene is taking a statement from Okabe at the
moment.  In the meantime, we still don't legitimately have anything on
Taniguchi, unless we want to try and press for disorderly conduct or
disturbing the peace.  Witness statements if we want to go back to the
school might get us attempted assault, but the only _actual_ assault
was Suzumiya-san attacking Asakura-san.  At any rate, outside of
assault charges, that's going to be stepping on Kitago disciplinary
committee toes.  Aside from that, his parents have to be notified
before we can do anything, again.  For the time being, he's in an
interview room being sweated."

     "Eh ... alright.  We're not going to charge him, I just wanted to
try and defuse the situation in 1-5 and keep things from escalating.
Let his parents know....  Let's go with disorderly conduct.  Have
someone on my staff give him a good speech about decorum, get his
statement, and we'll let him go with a warning when his parents
arrive.  Doesn't matter what he says, unless it's genuinely
incriminating ... but I don't believe it was him, at this point."

     Akasaka drew a slow breath, then sighed.

     Oishi's eyes narrowed.  "Something else?" he asked.

     "Asakura's handwriting," came the answer.

     Oishi spat the remnants of his cigarette into a nearby puddle.
"I see.  Alright -- if you're comfortable, go ahead and question
Asakura.  I'll probably be back shortly ... depending on Nagato-san's
testimony, I might bring Suzumiya-san with me for protective custody.
If we think Nagato-san is the mastermind...."

     "You caught that, too?"

     "Yeah.  She's physically able, without a doubt.  I don't know
that the height will match NPA forensic or SOCO profiling, but right
now we're looking at her for motive and potential."

     "Roger that -- I'll see you when you get back.  Good luck."

     "Likewise," Oishi returned, feeling uncomfortably certain he
would need it.  He hung up, noting with relief that the rain slackened
very slightly as he marched back into the apartment complex.

     ***

     After spinning around the Shinjin in perfect tandem with his
colleague, slashing it into an oozing puddle of blue light, Itsuki
drifted to a nearby rooftop and dropped his envelope of power.  The
form that lit next to him dismissed its own aura, and he was vaguely
surprised to see the tall Russian again.

     "Lucky break for you," the man said in his thick accent, offering
something between a grin and a sneer.  "My handler is small and easily
svayed vith promises of fewer broken bones."

     Itsuki blinked, eyes widening slightly.  "You beat answers out of
him?" he asked, surprised at the idea.

     "Tsst," the Russian hissed, shaking his head.  "They thought they
could control me vith injections, forgetting perhaps that just because
I am not in closed space, I am not vithout strength.  I cannot go
home, little boy.  I hope you are happy."

     "I'm not," Itsuki said, shaking his head.  "Not at all."

     "You play hero," the Russian continued, offering a
broad-shouldered shrug.  "I save vorld.  Just maybe, maybe happy
ending anyvay."

     "You're just going to stay in closed space?"

     "Nyet, I vill seek refuge vith other espers.  But is not point.
Point is this: Organization admits to capturing time traveler.  I
don't know vere, but I am told is so."

     Itsuki took another deep breath, nodding to himself.  The two
were still in closed space; another Shinjin was active in a merged
space.  "I'm not just trying to play the hero.  Even though your
information helps me, we're all in this together.  We can at least try
to clean this space before I go back."

     "Da, is faster vith allies," the Russian agreed, before
reassuming the red sphere of energy around himself and streaking away
towards the next Shinjin.

     Itsuki shook his head, lips pursed.  No matter what happened, he
and the large man would be allies in this space ... but was his word
trustworthy?  Even if so, all he'd done was confirm Mori's
speculation, which he could easily just have been feeding back to the
younger esper....

     No, he told himself, shaking his head.  It was too early to start
doubting himself and his new cabal.

     ***

     Akasaka didn't particularly want to interview the Kitago class
1-5 representative.  Even though she appeared in most ways to be an
average schoolgirl -- too average, really, except for her almost
sculpted good looks -- the 'wrongness' about her that he couldn't
quite articulate jarred against his nerves.

     But he was trying to help Oishi with his investigation.  Aside
from which, the background check on Kimidori Emiri was already in
motion; he had nothing to gain by idling, unless wanted to make Oishi
do this interview himself.  And Oishi was going to have his hands full
possibly trying to take Suzumiya into custody, protective or not.

     He flagged down Oishi's chief secretary, the unassuming Aida.
"Oishi wants Asakura-san interrogated," he ordered.  One of the
detectives still at the school had scanned the page with the girl's
handwriting sample, and the case file now had both samples
side-by-side; a photocopy of the original note and Asakura's message
to Kyon.  "I'll be supervising."

     "Understood," Aida replied, nodding.

     The two men stepped into the room with the girl, who beamed a
cheerful, sunshine-bright smile at the two men.  "Hello!" she chirped.

     "Hello, Asakura-san," Aida replied, after flicking on the digital
recorder, setting a now very thick copy of the case-file on the table
before taking a seat opposite her.  Akasaka took the seat to Aida's
right, adding his own small file with the rushed NPA analysis next to
it.  "My name is Mizuno Aida.  This is National Police Agency
supervisor Akasaka Mamoru.  We'd like to ask you a few questions."

     "Hmmm....  Questions?  I think the law says you need to contact
my parents, doesn't it?"

     "It does," Aida agreed.  "However, there are specific statutes
outlining our responsibility to justice and truth, especially in the
case of parents or guardians of minors that cannot be contacted."

     "But, don't at least forty-eight hours need to pass before
parents or guardians can be considered unreachable?"  Her smile hadn't
faltered in the slightest.

     "They already have," Akasaka commented.  "Counting our original
attempts to contact them the first day of the investigation.  May I
ask how a high school girl became so well versed in law?"

     Her fixed smile lessened slightly.  "Without a legal guardian or
parent, I believe I am allowed a lawyer before you can question me,"
she pointed out.

     Akasaka set his phone on the table and slid it forward.  "By all
means," he said, "if you have a lawyer, call them.  We'll erase this
record and restart the interview."

     Aida sighed, rewinding the digital recording and zeroing out all
of the data.  Asakura reached towards the phone, her smile returning,
then hesitated, cocking her head slightly to one side.

     "We would like to point out," Aida explained, "that our previous
interview was merely to question you in further detail about what
happened a few nights ago."

     "You haven't been accused of anything," Akasaka added.

     "Though," Aida continued, tilting his face with artistic
precision, flashing light from his spectacles like mirrors directly
into Asakura's eyes, "we do find it very interesting that you feel the
need for a lawyer, considering that."

     The girl stared, her smile vanishing as her lips pressed into a
straight, flat line.  She blinked, considering something, then her
eyes fixed on the closed envelope that Akasaka hadn't even brought
into play.  Raising her hands and steepling them together, fingertips
touching like a blushing schoolgirl about to make a confession, she
carefully said, "I'm sorry.  I have no more interest in this."

     She rose to her feet, regaining her smile, and both of the men
rose warily, too.

     "You're not leaving this building," Aida began, before she
abruptly circled around the table and closed to him, her hand driving
into the detective's chest before Akasaka could even reach for his
stun-gun.  It came away trailing an arc of crimson, then plunged in
again, and again, and for good measure, the girl ripped her hand back
and forth, side-to-side, shedding another spray of arterial blood.

     He didn't know if he would ever be able to explain how, but she
was already kicking open the interview room door before Aida
collapsed, gurgling in agony as a knife -- from where?  The girl had
been searched! -- clattered to the floor at the fallen detective's
side.

     "Help!" Akasaka screamed, wrenching the stun-gun from its holster
and turning, far too late.  The detectives in the room beyond all
stared in shocked amazement ... but there was no sign of the girl.
"Officer down!  Officer down!"

     Growling, he stuffed the stun-gun back into place and tried to
administer first aid until a medical attendant arrived.  His heart and
mind both racing erratically, the second he had hands free, he
snatched his phone and redialed Oishi.

     ***

     When the elevator reached Nagato Yuki's floor, Oishi quirked an
eyebrow to see the girl standing in front of her apartment, waiting
for him.  Was she able to see him, seven floors below?  Watching his
conversation through the rain?  He doubted she'd be able to hear him
through the driving storm ... or even if the sky were clear, across
that distance.

     But it was unnerving anyway.  "Nagato-san," he greeted her.

     She wordlessly turned and opened the door.  Grimacing, he stepped
into her apartment.  The sparse, almost bare room sported only one
piece of furniture worth noting.  Emiri sat at the table, and three
teacups had been set out.  "Sit," Nagato said, taking a seat one side
of the table, next to her 'cousin'.

     "I'm a bit more comfortable standing at the moment," Oishi
replied, glancing across the room again.  "Suzumiya-san is resting?"

     Emiri nodded apologetically.  "Today has been very hard on her,"
she said, with exactly the perfect amount of sad sympathy.  That was
enough for Oishi; for all he knew, Suzumiya was drugged in the next
room.  He decided he'd play a few more questions out, and then take
her in.  Whatever the strange girls were up to, Suzumiya would be
better off with doctors and police psychologists.

     "You won't mind if I take a look at her?" Oishi asked.

     Emiri looked at Nagato, who blinked again, then rose to her feet.
 "Follow," she said.  Oishi did, uncomfortable turning his back on the
girl at the table.  Nagato Yuki walked a short distance down the hall
on silent feet, then slid a door open.  In the room within, Oishi was
able to see the form of Suzumiya, still dressed in her school uniform,
sleeping on a single futon.  The girl's face twitched on occasion, as
though she were submerged in a deep layer of dream, and her cheeks
still glistened with recent tears.

     Oishi allowed a deep sigh to escape, then nodded at Nagato, who
slid the door shut, and walked back to the living room on equally
silent feet, retaking her seat in a single fluid motion.

     He followed, frowning intently as he tried to puzzle out what was going on.

     "If you'd like to speak with Yuki-chan alone, I can leave," Emiri
offered.  "I don't mind watching over Suzumiya-san."

     The detective nodded warily.  "I appreciate that," he said.  "If
it's not too much trouble."

     The girl shook her head in response and rose to her feet, walking
back to the bedroom with feet as silent as Nagato's.  For her part,
Nagato stared straight forward, only blinking on occasion.
"Nagato-san," Oishi began, once Emiri was out of earshot, "could you
give me your eyewitness account of what happened today?"

     Nagato blinked and turned to look at him.  "Vague," she answered.

     He pursed his lips together.  "Specifically," he clarified,
producing his notepad, "what happened with Suzumiya Haruhi in class
1-5.  And please, be verbose."

     The stoic girl gave a tiny nod.  "At seven minutes thirty four
seconds after nine in the morning, Suzumiya Haruhi entered class 1-5.
She approached her desk.  She observed a floral arrangement on," and
then Nagato's demeanor cracked for an instant, and something like a
tiny, almost invisible scowl crossed her face, before vanishing, "the
desk in front of hers.  The cultural significance of this confirmed a
reality she had been attempting to deny for some time."

     Oishi stared, taken aback.

     Nagato blinked twice, then continued, "After expressing a
physical reaction of shock, Suzumiya Haruhi accepted a gesture of
solace from fellow student Taniguchi.  She then turned and
approached," another pause, though this time Nagato's expression
didn't change, "myself.  At this juncture, fellow student Asakura
Ryouko, representative for class 1-5, attempted to provoke a reaction
from Suzumiya Haruhi concerning her words from fifth month nineteenth
day two thousand and ninth year current era.

     "Confronted with these words, Suzumiya Haruhi reacted with anger
and physical violence, striking class representative Asakura Ryouko.
It was at this point that I interceded, physically removing Suzumiya
Haruhi from conflict for her own safety.  You arrived after that."

     The detective's gaze turned to the notepad, where he'd written
only the day's date.  "Is that ... so?" he finally managed.

     "Yes."

     She still stared at him, unblinking.  "Well....  I see.  Thank
you.  Ah, unfortunately, at this time, I'm going to take Suzumiya
Haruhi into custody.  Regardless of her motives, her behavior is
unacceptable."

     Nagato's gaze slowly turned away from him, and she blinked.
"Wait here," she said quietly.

     "If it's all the same," he began, as she rose to her feet, before
she shook her head abruptly.

     "It is inappropriate for you to watch her change," the girl
noted.  "Wait here."

     Oishi pursed his lips together, wondering if they were going to
do something like sneak down a fire escape ... but nodded.  His
argument for bringing Suzumiya into protective custody was already
weak enough.  He contemplated ignoring Nagato's blunt demand and
checking on the girls anyway, but was distracted by the ringing of his
cell phone.

     "Oishi here," he answered, not checking the display.

     "Oishi-kun!" Akasaka yelled across the connection.  "Asakura
Ryouko escaped!"

     "What?" he yelped back, quickly glancing down the hallway.  "How?
 Where is she?!"

     "I don't....  Somehow, she had a concealed weapon -- she attacked
Mizuno-san -- he's...."  The NPA agent took a deep breath.
"Oishi-kun, I don't know how to explain this; I've never seen someone
move as quickly as she did.  Mizuno's in a bad way, and she's out of
our custody.  I'm going to mobilize forces to search for her, but if
she killed Student K to get to Suzumiya, she could be on her way there
right now."

     Oishi felt a chill run down his spine at the thought of losing
his best aide.  "Shi....  Alright.  I'm taking Suzumiya-san into
protective custody," Oishi growled.  "Have backup meet me at Nagato's
apartment."

     "Understood," Akasaka replied.  "Oishi-kun ... don't hesitate.
Asakura shows no remorse."

     "Right," Oishi said, numbly.  "I'll see you at the station."

     The door at the end of the hall opened, and Nagato Yuki, still in
her school uniform, and Suzumiya Haruhi, now in more casual shorts and
a loose shirt, stepped from the room.  "Nagato-san," he said, stepping
forward and seizing Haruhi's unresisting wrist, "Suzumiya-san is being
taken into protective custody from Asakura Ryouko; you can come with
me if you like."

     "No," she answered softly.

     Oishi stared at her, but realized he couldn't stay to argue.
"Fine," he said in clipped tones, dragging Haruhi towards the doorway.
 She followed his lead docilely, and he grit his teeth, wishing he
could understand what was going on.

     Nagato watched him lead the girl to the walkway outside of the
apartment, her eyes tracking him as the door swung shut.  Muttering
dire imprecations to himself, he glanced at Haruhi's face.  Her eyes
were dark, empty, her facial muscles were slack, and her walk was the
stumbling gait of a drugged stupor.  "Damn it," he snarled at no one
in particular, switching the hand he used to lead her and putting one
hand on his pistol as they approached the elevator.

     He stopped suddenly, eyes narrowing as he watched the elevator's
floor indicator.  From fifth, up to sixth ... and stopping on the
seventh.  Asakura's apartment was on the fifth floor, but there was no
way she could possibly....

     When the door opened, revealing the class 1-5 representative in
her school uniform, she cocked her head to one side and raised her
eyebrows.  "What a pleasant surprise!  Maybe this will be more
interesting?" she asked.  "I'm really disappointed that you didn't
react more, Suzumiya!  I did this all for you, you know!"

     Oishi drew his handgun and fired with a wordless snarl.  It would
cost him his badge, but he didn't care anymore; if the schoolgirl had
killed Aida, then nothing else mattered.  Impossibly, he saw the
girl's hand flash, faster than his eyes could follow, and a spray of
sparks danced off the blade that she had not been holding a heartbeat
earlier.

     "No," Haruhi whispered hoarsely, pulling away from him, trying to
retreat from Asakura's approaching form.  "No!"

     "Damn it!" Oishi swore again, pulling the trigger again and
again, until the clip was empty, each bullet somehow deflected by a
stray shower of sparks.  If anything, the smile on Asakura Ryouko's
face widened with each deflection, until in desperation, Oishi cast
the handgun away, following Haruhi's lead and breaking into a run
towards the emergency fire escape at the other end of the hallway.

     Abruptly, his body froze in place, as though he were encased in
invisible cement.  He could breathe, somehow, but couldn't even move
his jaw enough to form words, and the breath he could draw was a raspy
stream at best.  Asakura giggled cutely as she walked past him.
Before him, Haruhi had frozen too, probably bound the same way he was.
 She was sprawled on her back, eyes wide in terror, mouth locked open
with an unvoiced shriek.  Unshed tears shimmered in the light
reflecting off her face.

     "I'm really very disappointed," Asakura said, adding another tiny
giggle to her statement.  "Maybe it's because I didn't let you see it
happen?  Or maybe you just need to know it was me that killed him?  He
cried, you know!  I thought he was going to be more of a man about it,
but I guess I don't really understand the emotions of organic beings
that well!"

     Asakura suddenly stood up straight, tilting her head back and
touching a single fingertip to her lower lip.  "I understand that some
humans have a tradition of allowing the dying last words, so I let him
have that.  I thought maybe he would show me something I didn't know.
But it was the same boring thing you'd see from a television drama!
First, he begged for his life, or for a compromise ... that was really
uninteresting."  She flicked one wrist, throwing the jagged combat
knife directly into Oishi's gut.  He heard the eerie sounds of the
blade penetrating his flesh, and the slap of the small hilt arresting
its momentum.

     He tried to writhe in pain, but was held too securely to react;
he couldn't really even quicken his breathing or cry out in alarm.
"So, I stabbed him, just like that!"  The girl took a step closer to
Oishi and yanked the knife out.  "And then I told him to do better
than that!  And do you know what he said?"

     Asakura bent over slightly, her cheeks faintly coloring as she
touched the tip of her blade to the tip of one finger, toying with it
absently.  "It was really disappointing.  He said, 'If you really want
to surprise Haruhi, tell her I don't think she's so strange at all'.
Of course, he was crying the entire time....  What is that supposed to
mean?  Was it just a product of his fear?  Was it genuine, or just
words?  I really don't understand!"

     She cocked her head to one side again, leaning close and peering
into Haruhi's eyes, where tears now flowed freely.  "Hmmm....  This is
still very uninteresting.  I thought you'd do something after all
this!  But maybe my superiors were wrong?  Maybe you're not that
special at all....  Or maybe you aren't scared enough?  Well, in that
case, if you can't stop this, then I'll at least get a new state to
observe!"

     Asakura stood up straight holding the knife loosely in one hand
again.  "Suzumiya-san," she said cheerfully, "please die!"  And with
that, she thrust forward, the blade plunging into Haruhi's chest.
Asakura's smile widened even further, her eyes narrowing into tiny
lines as she gave a single, sickening twist to the embedded blade.
	---------------------------------
     Author's notes: Itsuki needs more screen-time, I think.  In
Japanese schools, a vase of white flowers signifies that the student
has died.  It is considered a severe insult to place them on the desk
of a living student, akin to telling that student you wish for them to
die.


-- 
Brian Randall
--
I write fanfiction. Too much of it. You can read it here, thanks to a
kind grant from the Larry F foundation:
http://www.florestica.com/brandall/
--
Together. Allegiance or death. BIGFIRE!
--
Haiku of my lament:

Forgive my spelling,
my U.S. education,
is the source of blame.