[FFML] [SHnY] The Coin - Chapter Three

[Michael Clark]

If I'd titled these chapters, this would probably be best called
"Repentance" or some such.


The Coin
Chapter Three


There are five ways lightning can strike a person.  If you're on a
corded phone or holding a power cable, the current from a bolt can
travel through you to ground.  If you're standing outside and a bolt
hits near you, electricity can travel up one leg and out the other--at
least, it can if you're not wearing rubber-soled shoes.  Say you're
touching a tree or a metal pole.  Lightning that hits that object can
travel through you on the way to ground, too.  Even if you're not
touching the object that's struck, current can arc through the air and
jump to you.

And then, of course, the lightning bolt can hit you outright.

Lots of things can happen after you're struck.  The heat from electrons
moving rapidly through your body can burn your skin, but the strike is
so brief the burns are usually shallow and harmless.  You'll probably
never remember what happened, though.  You might go blind for a while or
develop cataracts in the months and years to follow.  Your eardrums may
blow out, and even if they don't, odds are you'll still hear ringing
when it's quiet at night.  I know I do.

Most importantly, you have to remember that lightning is electricity.
It's current.  The brain and nerves run on impulses, but more than that,
there's one delicate circuit in the body that no one can live without.

The heart.

I'd seen it before.  The ambulance pulled up to the gate.  The
paramedics climbed out with their stretcher and IV bags.  They asked
questions, but it was like being part of a silent movie without the
subtitles to go with it.  They cut off his tie with shears.  They ripped
open his shirt.  They wiped down his chest with a towel, picking up
water from the surreal rain.  They tried to use the same thing that put
Taniguchi there--electricity--to bring him back to life.

No.

That's not right.  Electricity wasn't what put him there, but I--I could
only wonder.  It's easy to kill.  People do it all the time.  They
create life, too, but they only know a couple ways to do that.  I knew
right away, when that bolt took Taniguchi to the ground, that I had the
power to snuff life out, but could I bring it back?  Could I mend what
I'd destroyed?  Is it wrong to feel paralyzed, standing there as medics
shocked Taniguchi, hoping to revive his heart?  Is it wrong to fear, to
think that anything you do to heal him might make things worse?  To
wonder if, deep inside yourself, you might lash out at him again and
finish the deed you'd left undone?

They carried Taniguchi into the ambulance, and this time, the medics
insisted on no passengers.  The crowd of bystanders dispersed.  I don't
know when I forgot to protect myself, to shield my body from the rain,
but as the faint sirens faded in the distance, I was as wet and cold as
anyone without an umbrella should've been.

"Haruhi."  Kyon stepped up behind me, following my gaze.  "We should
go."

Go where?  To class and pretend nothing's happened?  Or home, to forget
instead?

"You're the chief."

That's right.  I'm the brigade chief.  I decide, and my decisions--my
actions--reflect upon me.  Kyon, did you catch which hospital that
ambulance was from?

"Yeah."

Then there's only one place we _should_ go.

I still remember that cold winter morning, a week before Christmas Day.
People walk up and down steps all the time.  You never think someone
could trip or stumble.  You never think someone you know might fall.
That time, it was Kyon.  He had to do a really clumsy thing, taking a
dive in the stairwell.  We were supposed to get supplies for a reindeer
costume, but that... put a damper on things.  We should've been the only
ones there, but I swear I saw a girl running just out of sight.  She
tripped Kyon, or she pushed him somehow.  He doesn't remember, but I
know it's true.  That time, Kyon's family let us stay in his room.  We
camped out, night after night.  That's what a brigade chief does, you
know.  She cares for her subordinates.  That, and... I didn't think I
could get that sound out of my head--the sound of Kyon's skull banging
on the floor--if I went anywhere else.  He was fine after all, not even
a scratch!

This time, though, we'd have to wait.  The crack of lightning through
Taniguchi's body I wouldn't forget either, but when Kyon and I arrived
at the hospital, the doctors and nurses were still examining him,
checking him.  His family I've never met.  I wouldn't know them if I saw
them on the street.  They weren't there yet.

It's funny--I've known Taniguchi for a while now.  Four years I guess it
is.  I don't know anything about him.  He's annoying sometimes.  He acts
stupid.  He asked me out once, back in middle school, and I said yes
without really thinking about it.  No sooner than I did, he went on for
five minutes straight about the date we'd go on, the film we'd see, the
restaurant he'd take me to, and then--the ultimate in wishful
thinking--if we needed a "leisure hotel" for a few hours afterward, what
kind of accessories we'd need for our stay.  It's not like I'm morally
opposed to that sort of thing, but that was middle school.  I was
fourteen.  After that kind of talk, he'd have to grow a third arm or
something to be interesting enough to hold on to.  He's tagged along
with us a couple times since, but I haven't really talked to him.
Honestly, I hadn't given him more than a second thought.  I just
remembered him being typical and ordinary.  That's why, when someone
like that starts talking to me the way he did--

I shuddered.  Gods, somebody punch me in the face for thinking that.

The hospital staff made us wait in a public area.  When I had trouble
hearing one of them, they looked at my hands, my sleeves.  They tried to
take me in for treatment, but I raised hell.  Honestly, what are you
people doing?  Don't you have better things to do?  Why don't you take
care of people who've had a few million volts run through their veins?
Don't you think they need some help?  Don't you?

"Hey, hey, Haruhi, settle down!"  Kyon stepped in, shielding the nurses
from me.  He caught my wrists.  He restrained me as I flailed.  "Settle
down," he said.  "Take a breath.  You're shaking."

I'm not.

"You are."

It's the earth moving; that's all.  It's an aftershock.  They're still
having those, right?  People could be in trouble.

"No, they're not," he said.  "Everybody's fine.  I promise."

We sat there, in the waiting area, watching the seconds hand on the
clock tick by.  The doctors couldn't say how long it'd take to treat
Taniguchi, just that it was good he'd survived the trip from school.
With what books and assignments we'd carried along, we distracted
ourselves.  We read pamphlets on flu viruses and drug-resistant
bacteria.  We talked for a while with a graduate student who was milling
about, waiting with his extended family in another ward.  Two of his
aunts had been in a car crash, hit by a drunk driver just a few blocks
from their neighborhood.  He'd received an e-mail from one of them that
evening, the night their car was crushed, wishing him a happy birthday,
but she was old and eccentric, prone to making scenes and causing fuss.
He didn't answer her.  She died that night, and he never got to reply.

Around lunchtime the rest of the brigade came.  Yuki sat down with us at
the round table, but her green hardback she kept closed, looking
solemnly at the cover instead.  Koizumi was polite but distracted, on
the phone with his job again.  They brought sandwiches from a shop down
the street, and we ate quietly.  Honestly, Mikuru-chan, you shouldn't
have done that.  You're a third-year.  You should be in class.

"A friend of ours is in need," she said.  "Classes aren't so important
when you look at it like that."

I didn't know you were so close to Taniguchi.

"Ah, yes," she said.  "Taniguchi-kun, too."

I think it was two or two-thirty when one of the nurses came in.  "You
five," she began, "you were with the Taniguchi boy, yes?"

"How is he?" asked Kyon.  "Is he all right?"

The nurse hesitated for a moment--I think she looked at all of us and
realized just how long we'd been waiting, what we hoped to hear--but
then she relaxed, and I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful
gesture.  She smiled and nodded, holding the door open for us to enter
the ward.  "He's going to be fine," she said.  "I'll show you to his
room."

They had Taniguchi laid out, snoozing away with sensors stuck to his
chest and head.  Lightning's electricity after all--that's what the
nurse told us--and they wanted to be sure he could still breathe and
move with no lingering effects.  His eardrum had burst, and they were
going to check his eyesight later, after the headaches wore off.  Burn
ointment on his arms and neck glistened in the fluorescent light, but
those injuries were superficial, nothing to be concerned about.  Even
so, his parents were there, sitting in the room with him, standing vigil
so he wouldn't be alone.  I didn't go inside.  I didn't want to intrude,
but I did wait there at the glass, even as the others, seeing that
Taniguchi was well, went back to school or to the library or to a
part-time job that sounded too demanding to be healthy.

"I guess Koizumi's got more to do nowadays."  Kyon leaned back against
the wall, the window to Taniguchi's room at his side.  His hands in his
pockets, he looked at me, and I knew what he was thinking.  Just what is
this person--this girl who yanks a boy into her bedroom, who strikes
down people because they were being annoying?  What'll she do next?

The doorknob turned.  It was Taniguchi's mother, stepping out with a
coin purse in her hands.  "Get me a canned coffee, will you?" came a
voice from inside.

"Of course," she said, easing the door shut.  She counted her change for
a moment.  She didn't realize we were there.  That was all right.  She
had a lot on her mind, I'm sure.  It wouldn't be a problem to let her
pass by.  Family should take care of family, after all.

And when you do wrong by someone's family, you should own up to it.  I
stepped in front of her.  She blinked in surprise, pushing her glasses
up the bridge of her nose.  "Oh, hello there.  You must be my son's
friends.  It's Suzumiya-chan, isn't it?  From East Middle?"

"That's right, Ma'am," I said, bowing.  "I'm really sorry for what
happened to Taniguchi.  It's all my fault.  I got carried away..."

"Hm?  Well, I don't see how that could be.  As strange of a rainstorm
that was, you all were just chatting at the gate, right?  It's not like
you flung the lightning bolt that hit him.  That'd be silly, right?"
She smiled.  "I'm just glad that boy of mine has such good friends to
see him through this.  Thank you both."

Um, you're welcome, but that's not... you don't understand!

"You two be safe now," she said, nodding slightly.  She walked down the
hall, thinking I was her son's friend.

I didn't have the heart to tell her she was wrong.

+++

Kyon offered to walk me home, but I refused him.  It wouldn't be on the
way for him, after all.  It wouldn't be convenient.

"To hell with convenience," he'd said, following behind me as we left
the hospital.  "Haruhi, I need to talk to you."

I bet you do.  I don't doubt you have a lot of things to say, Kyon,
because when something's on your mind, you don't hide it, but after all
that's happened today, I don't think I can handle it--how blunt and
direct you'd have to be.  I think we both know what I did.  That doesn't
mean I could stand it if someone said it in words.

"That's fair," he said quietly.  "Tomorrow, then?"

Tomorrow then.

I looked both ways and jogged across the access road, with Kyon's voice
ringing in my ears.  He called after me, cupping his hands so the world
would hear.

"Stay strong, Brigade Chief!"

I'm trying.  I'm trying really hard.  It's been a long time since I last
felt this... unsettled.  I remember last summer, on that remote island,
before Koizumi-kun's mystery was revealed.  I think anyone would be
genuinely afraid, thinking there could be a murderer in one's midst, but
that was staged.  We weren't in any real danger.  No, you'd have to go
back further than that.

It was almost four years ago now.  I was a first-year in middle school,
and Tanabata was coming up.  At that time, I was moody and restless.
I'd grown dissatisfied with the world and its ordinary pleasures.  Yeah,
doesn't sound very different from me now, does it?  Well, I was worse
then.  Mother and Father wanted to go to a festival, but I shot that
down.  They asked me to write a wish, but I couldn't think of anything I
wanted, anything that'd change the boredom I felt.

That was until the night of the Sixth.  It was dark, to the sounds of
cicadas' songs, I stood on the front step to our home.  I looked to the
stars in the eastern sky--Orihime in near the horizon and Hikoboshi
further up, separated by the heavenly river.  You can't see it very
well, not in the city.  The glow of human lights drowns out the Milky
Way, and in the West, the stars Altair and Vega are little different
from others.  Make a wish, and maybe they'll hear you.  Sure.  Will they
make the earth turn the other way around?  Probably not.  So I went
inside, thinking nothing would change.

Boy was I wrong.  I came back in, and it was dark.  The lights were out,
the television blank and silent.  "Mother?" I called out.  "Father?"
They didn't answer.  I went back to the door.  I pushed and pulled, but
it wouldn't budge.  That wasn't right.  Much as you might like them to
when you're an angry child throwing a tantrum, your parent's don't just
disappear.  The stars through the window don't vanish instantly behind a
murky, gray mist.

I ran upstairs.  It was just a joke, right?  Mother and Father playing
some kind of trick on me.  I burst into my room, and that's where I
found something.  That's where I found _it_.  I can't remember what it
looked like; I think I recognized it as a person, someone I knew, but
when I look back in my mind, it's a blur--a person bathed in light,
whose face I can't discern.  It called to me--not in words or sounds but
feelings.  If I sought something amazing, I should go to it.  If I
wanted a world of people as dissatisfied with the mundane and normal, I
should step inside it and leave all this behind.  Let the world be
remade to fit my imaginings.

But there was another "voice" of sorts, angry and pleading where the
other was calm.  What should a little girl do then?  Choose one eldritch
_thing_ over another?  I'm not so stupid.  Why should I trust something
I don't understand?  For all I know, I'll step into the light and become
the plaything of some apple-munching death god instead.  No thanks.  I
went to the door, but the person, the creature--it asked me something,
the simplest question there is.  _Why?_  Really why, not just because
I'm savvy or whatever.  To tell the truth, I don't remember what I said,
for when I stepped out of that room...

Well, that's when I woke up.

I didn't know what to make of that dream.  I thought, for a while, it
was telling me something--that the world would only be truly amazing if
we made it that way, like in our dreams.  But that's boring.  Of course
your dreams can be anything.  There's nothing new about that.  No, I
think that's when I decided to walk a different path instead.  If the
world wouldn't make itself interesting, I'd have to do it instead.  I'd
go out there and look for far-out things like aliens, mental wanderers
in espers, and the like.  Sketching idly at my desk, I knew right away
the message I'd send.

If I hadn't made up my mind like that, I'd have never met John Smith and
known it was the right thing to do.  I didn't shy away then, and I
shouldn't now.  I just have to be careful and considerate.  If I get
carried away, things might happen that I'll regret.

Well, tomorrow's another day.  Taniguchi's alive.  I could send him some
flowers tomorrow.  That'd be okay, right?  When he's awake again, I'll
make them from empty ground.  I was home, and it was time to let the day
wash away like it never happened.  With a deep breath, I stepped inside
the threshold at our front door.

"Welcome home," said Mother, writing on a clipboard in front of the
television.  "Back early?"

"Yeah," I said.  "Something happened at school.  One of our classmates
was hurt."

"Ah, so that's what that call was about."

Call?

"It was a woman, I think.  She said she couldn't reach you on your cell
phone but thought you'd be home soon, so she asked me if I could relay a
message.  Can you believe it?"

Actually no, Mother.  I have my phone on me all the time.  Why wouldn't
someone be able to reach me?  See?  I have it right here.  It's just--

It's just off.

Bah, of course it's off.  I was in a hospital.  I turned it back on, but
there were no messages.  Did the stranger just not even bother?  Or did
she know I wouldn't be able to take her call anyway?

"Mother," I began, "what did the woman say?"

"She asked to meet you somewhere.  'The usual place'?"

That'd be the station.  Only someone in the brigade--or someone who's
been with us--would know that.

"You're not thinking of going to meet this woman, are you?  Just
yesterday, I heard part of the sidewalk there collapsed in a sinkhole.
Can you believe it?"

I can believe it, Mother, because I'm the one who did that.  Well, you
didn't need to know that part.  But really, do you think I'll go meet a
stranger just because she asks me to?

"That's true."  Mother tapped her pen on the clipboard.  "She did say
something else, though."

What's that?

"Hm, let me see..."  She shuffled through her papers, squinting.  "Where
did I put that...?"

Mother, you forgot?  You had to write it down, and you forgot?

"I'm just a little scattered is all."  She held up the clipboard.  "See,
I'm in chapter forty-seven, and Tsuki-chan's just found out she was
princess of the Crystal Kingdom."

Mother, are you ripping off Takeuchi-san again?

"No!" she protested.  "Well, maybe.  Don't people do that all the time?
Like, there was that show last winter, right?  Where if the girls use
their powers too much or despair, they become monsters or something?
That's just the opposite of Takeuchi-san's work, but it's still a
knock-off."

Maybe, but they didn't call their protagonist _Tsuki-chan_, either.

She sighed.  "I guess not.  Still, that ending--can you believe it?
Just going and wiping everything that--"

Mother, if you keep going, we're going to have to spoil the audience.

"We're on television?"

No, it's just--the message.  Tell me about the message, won't you?

"Oh, yes, the message."  She looked over the rims of her glasses at a
piece of paper.  "Here we go.  She said, 'I know what happened at the
gate today, and I know your daughter does, too.'  What could that
be--ah, Haruhi!"

I slipped my shoes back on and bolted out.  "I'll phone when I'm heading
back!" I called through the gap in the door, and I shut it behind me.
Thank the gods that stranger, whoever she was, didn't tell Mother what
she meant by that.  To my parents, I'm just their strange little
girl--unusual, yes, but no less their daughter.  The last thing I want
is to have them asking me to do miracles as soon as I'm home from
school.  They know I'm different, but they still treat me like any other
sixteen-year-old girl.  Why?  Because they accept that I'm strange, and
it doesn't bother them.

But everyone has their limits.

I ran for the station as fast as my legs would carry me.  I wove through
groups of pedestrians.  I dodged bikes and scooters.  Stranger woman,
whoever you are--you don't call my home and expect me to sit by.  You
don't talk to my mother about _my_ powers and _my_ business without
talking to me first!

When I got to the square outside the station, I was panting, but I'm not
weak.  I stood upright, catching my breath as I walked.  If this woman
had been outside the school, maybe I'd recognize her.  I trotted by the
clock a couple times, searching, scouring the shops and the crosswalks.
Where are you, stranger?  You can't hide from me.  My eyes see
everything.  Haven't I seen you before, orange-haired woman?  Yeah, I'm
talking to you.  In the heels and the plain white, buttoned
shirt--haven't I seen you before?  Haven't I--

"Suzumiya-sama."

I jerked.  The voice came from behind me--not from that orange-haired
woman at the bakery across the street.  No, the stranger was with me; we
met under the clock, and I recognized her.  Her twin tails, the way she
held her hands in front of her, together, and bowed slightly--how could
I not?

"Mori-san!" I exclaimed.  "What are you doing here?"

She was casually dressed, much different from the maid uniform I was
used to seeing her in.  She wore a black skirt with white socks and
flat, shiny, dark shoes.  Her blouse was light blue, and the sleeves
came only just past her shoulders.  She carried a brown leather bag over
her shoulder, guarding it gingerly with her right hand.  "I'm relieved
you came," she said.  "I worried, when we couldn't get through to you,
that you might not show."

"You thought I wouldn't show?  You should've just left your name with my
mother; I'd have come right away!  Wow, it's such a change to see you
this way.  It's good, though.  It's cute."

She bowed again, blushing slightly.  "You flatter me, truly.  As you
must know by now, I'm not a maid by profession, though I have experience
with the duties the job requires.  Arakawa-san and I are part an acting
troupe."

"Of course," I said.  "Koizumi-kun was lucky to find all of you for his
mysteries.  You really made both of them feel real."

She bowed once more.  "Again, you flatter me."

"Well, let me stop before you hurt your back.  It's good seeing you, but
why on earth would you call me out here?"

Mori-san's expression darkened.  Her smile faded away.  She looked
aside.  "That's a difficult question to answer quickly.  May we sit?"

On the triangular island between the three streets, we found a place
under the shade of the cherry tree.  The bare concrete held back the
earth for the cherry to grow, and we sat there, on the edge of the
square growing area, next to a sapling that'd just taken root.

"I'm an actress," Mori-san began, "but I leave that persona on the stage
or in my work.  Here, I'm just Mori Sono.  Or I would be, but even now,
I still have a job to perform.  Do you know what that job is?"

I don't.  How could I?  I've only seen you twice, Mori-san.  I don't
know anything about you.

She frowned.  "I suppose I'm a mystery to you after all.  What should I
say?  When I moved here, I'd just landed my first big role as Ophelia,
and I thought it'd be a stepping stone to bigger and better things, but
here I am.  Four years later, I've not moved on from this place.  I've
tried different things.  I did _kabuki_ for a while, until my manager
told me, in no uncertain terms, I wasn't cut out for it."

No?  But Mori-san, you're amazing!  You had all of us fooled on that
island.  You slip into character like it's nothing.

"It wasn't my skill he criticized," she explained.  "On stage, in the
midst of a performance, I'd fallen asleep from fatigue, collapsing
against the set.  He assumed I lacked the stamina, that performing and
rehearsal had taken a toll on my body, but that's not what really
happened.  I couldn't tell him the truth because no one would believe
me.  I'd become obsessed with someone."

A boyfriend?

"If only.  That would've been much easier to explain away.  No,
Arakawa-san and I--he was my mentor at the time--we began to realize
something.  The world we live in is subject to whims and flights of
fancy.  The impossible can become reality.  If you tell people this, and
they'll look at you strangely.  They'll laugh at you.  They'll demand
proof, but you--this doesn't surprise you, does it?"

Mori-san... what are you saying?  Who is this person you became obsessed
with?  Tell me plainly.  Don't wiggle around with it.

She sighed.  "Of course.  That's a fair request.  You see, Arakawa-san
and I discovered that, to one person's wishes, the world would respond."
She opened her leather bag and took out a dark blue folder, laying a
large-print photograph on top.  The cherry tree above us was weak and
losing its blossoms.  The ones in the photo weren't.  It was a shot of
the park by the canal.  The cherry trees were in full colors.  Two boys
sat on a bench, watching a battle waitress, an alien witch, and their
director marvel at the falling pink petals.  "If in the autumn, long
after the cherry blossoms have fallen, she wanted it to look like
spring, she would," said Mori-san, "but that's not all."  Another photo.
"If, she found a flock of pigeons too dull in their gray colors, she'd
make them white instead.  You see, Suzumiya-sama, we've known for some
time what you can do.  Or, should I say, what you can do even without
knowing you do it?"

That's ridiculous.  What kind of creepy stalker are you?  Making up
these stupid stories like you can convince me I'm something I'm not?
Get out of here.  It was a change in the weather; that's all.  It was a
coat of paint on healthy birds.  I didn't have anything to do with it.

"Just like you had nothing to do with making a fifty-yen coin into a
hundred to quench your thirst?"

I bolted from my seat.  How the hell do you know about that?

"I know because we always thought it was just a matter of time.  I gave
up on moving forward with acting.  I devoted my life to watching you, to
studying you and preserving your mental state.  There are so few of us
who believe, who know for a fact what power you have.  We watch because
no one else will, because no one else would believe the world heeds the
thoughts and feelings of a simple high-school girl."

I don't know who you are, and I don't care to know, all right?  Get away
from me, you creepy freak, you deluded woman!

"Or what?"  She held out a third photo--the gate to school, with me and
Kyon and Kunikida standing all around _him_, that boy on the ground.
"You'll strike me down like you did Taniguchi-kun?"

I shuddered.  Stop that.  That's a lie.  You hear me?  I didn't do that
on purpose; it was an accident!

"You've been doing it for years!  You did it just a few days ago!  Look
over there!"  She pointed.  "Look at that, the broken concrete, the
crack in the ground two meters wide.  You threatened a boy with power
you didn't know you had!"

How is that my fault?  I didn't know!  I didn't want anything like that
to happen!

"But you did!  You must've!  Whatever you want but are too stubborn
admit, you make happen!  That's why you're dangerous.  That's why this
has to stop.  You need to control this power, Suzumiya-sama.  You need
to control it, control yourself, or shut it off.  I know you're a good
person.  You don't want to hurt anyone, but in the back of our minds, we
wish death on suffering on people all the time.  I'm not asking you to
be inhumanly good and moral, but do the right thing.  You can't use
these powers you have.  You can't make me and my friends keep watching
you and babysitting you, waiting for the moment you'll destroy the
world!  You must end it!  Shut off your powers and never use them
again!"

Like I even know how to shut anything off!  Like I'd not use them!
Really?  Maybe you've been watching me, but it sounds like you don't
know anything about who I am or how I think.  What I can do changes the
reality of the world.  You'd have to be a fool to give that up, and
_you're_ a fool for asking me to!  I don't care how it's ruined your
life; you did that to yourself!  Leave me alone and never come back, or
I don't know what I'll do to you!

"You'll erase me."

I turned my back on her.  Traffic was heavy around the station.  Could I
get away from her?  Could I just disappear and pop back into my room?

"Isn't that what happened to Asakura Ryoko?"

Asakura?  The old class rep?

"You made her disappear, didn't you?"

You have no idea what you're talking about.  She went to Canada or some
nonsense.

"To a lonely prairie house in Manitoba?  A strange place for a Japanese
family to suddenly move to.  You never really believed that fiction.
Look at me."

I stood my ground.

"Look at me, Suzumiya Haruhi, unless you're afraid of what I have to
say!"

I'm not afraid, damn you.  I'm not.  I turned, facing her.  She had one
more photo to show me:  a shot of wilderness, with nothing but flat
grasses as far as the eye could see.

"This is where the Asakura house should be," she said.  "It doesn't
exist.  It never has.  She was removed from your school.  Her records
point to nowhere.  Now tell me--what did she do to you?  Did she insult
you?  Did she make you angry?"

I never had anything against that girl!

"You did; you must've.  How else can you explain it?  Maybe you just
won't admit it to yourself, but it's the truth.  You erased her.  You
made it so she disappeared.  With your powers, you changed her records
so no one would miss her, and do you know what the best part is?  _You
didn't even know it._"

No... it's not true!  It can't be!  I would never--

"You would never?  You'd never send a poor boy to the hospital by
sending a lightning bolt through his heart?  You'd never smack a girl on
the back of her head while she was drunk and helpless, hoping to make
her contact lens fly out?  I _do_ know who you are; do you know anything
about yourself?"

I balled my fists.  I trembled.  You know what, Mori-san?  Fuck you!
I've not done anything wrong!

"Believe what I say or erase me."  She packed up her back, rising.  "I
don't want to be in this world anymore, a world where I'm afraid your
petty whims will twist everything I've ever known.  I want to focus on
my acting again, but you won't let me do that.  Stop using this power.
Stop before you hurt someone again."

She bowed once more--a meaningless, insulting gesture after what she
said--and she trotted along the crosswalk without a word.  I watched her
go with a heavy glare.  Damn you, Mori Sono.  I won't forget this.  I'll
get you back!  I'll--

I'll make you disappear.

If I didn't stop myself, I'd make you disappear.  I'd prove everything
you said about me absolutely right.

What am I?

What have I become?

Did I really make someone... go away?

This isn't how it's supposed to be.  It's supposed to be fun and
exciting and incredible!  People shouldn't get hurt.  They shouldn't get
blanked out like they were brushed over with correction fluid, never to
be seen again.  I won't do that.  I _shouldn't_ do that.  I can't...

"Young lady?"

It was a stranger, a businessman.  He put down his briefcase and looked
at me with a puzzled expression.

"Are you all right?" he asked me.  "Why are you crying?"

I'm not crying.  The water's just coming out of my eyes--that's all.

"Here."  He offered a white handkerchief from his breast pocket.  "You
can keep it if you like.  I don't mind."

"NO!" I cried.  I batted that _thing_ out of his hand.  Get away from
me!  Are you stupid?  Don't you value your life?  You have to get away
from me!  You have to get away before I get angry, before I erase you
without thinking about it!  Don't you understand?  GET AWAY!

He scampered off in a hurry, nearly forgetting his briefcase and
clutching his hat so it wouldn't blow away.  I left too.  Water clouding
my sight, I ran through an intersection on the road home.  I burst
through the door and kicked off my shoes, running upstairs before Mother
could say a word.  I locked the bedroom door behind me and threw myself
on my bed, and the tears soaked into the pillowcase.  It wasn't for me;
it was for everyone else.  Stay away, Mother.  Stay away, Father.  Stay
away, my friends in the SOS Brigade.  If something inside me gets angry
with you, if it decides you should never be, I don't know how to stop
it.  I don't know how...

I don't know how.

I don't know how.

+++

When you think about it calmly, though--when you've had a night to sleep
on things and can sit on your bed, watching the sun light up the morning
sky at dawn--there's really only one thing any reasonable person would
do.  As the darkness turned to light, I got back up.  I changed into a
new uniform.  I brushed my teeth.  I went downstairs and devoured
breakfast--what else could I do, having missed dinner the night before?
There'd be no supernatural rain on the walk to school, and any flowers
that appeared at Taniguchi's hospital room would be from the florist,
not any magic seeds growing outside his window.  I felt each step under
my feet on the way to school, and not once did I wish for it to be even
a meter shorter.  Through classes that day, I listened studiously.  Put
everything else out of your mind while you work; that's the only way to
get things done, after all.  Even in a short life of thirty-five years,
you can have a great impact on the world.  Ask Masaoka, and he'd tell
you, if he were still around--before his time, we had words for poems
like _haiku_ and _tanka_, but he helped give them the name we know
today, making them different, distinct, special.  These are the
fundamental facts that make up the world--that the value of an analytic
function on a boundary determines its values everywhere inside.  When
you think about it, that's pretty magical, yet most people wouldn't even
give it a second thought.

It's for that I decided I could live without creating bizarre and
amazing things.  The world is already interesting enough.

"The world is what?"

I said that it was interesting enough, Kyon, though I'll excuse you for
not paying attention this time.  It was afternoon in the club room, and
I guess I caught everyone off-guard.  Mikuru-chan stared, pouring tea
into an overflowing cup.  Yuki put down her book, Koizumi-kun raised an
eyebrow, and Kyon--well, Kyon could only parrot back part of what I
said.

"I heard you fine," he insisted, "It's just... where's all this coming
from?"

Let's just say I had a long talk with someone I thought I knew.  That
person set me straight, in a way.  You were right yesterday, Kyon:
going about, making things happen without thinking about the
consequences--it was reckless, and after what I did to Taniguchi, I
can't ignore that.  The SOS Brigade is about finding the mysteries in
this world.  I guess I'm one of those mysteries too, but for now, the
lid's going back on Pandora's box to catch hope at the bottom.  I don't
want people to be afraid of me.  I don't want to be afraid of myself.
I'm just glad all of you were there yesterday.  Taniguchi needed you
most, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't need you guys, too.  So
thanks, all of you.  You're the best brigade a chief could have.

Koizumi-kun nodded.  "You're eloquent as always, Suzumiya-san.  I think
it is a weight off all of us to know that Taniguchi-kun will recover, to
see clearly that there _are_ aspects of this world we don't yet
understand and feel emboldened in the pursuit of them."

That's the spirit.  So let's just go back to the way things were, all
right?  Yuki can read.  Mikuru-chan can make tea.  Koizumi-kun, you can
play a board game with Kyon or something.  What is it, Kyon?  You're
frowning.  Something wrong?

"Maybe.  Who can say."

Is this about the thing you wanted to talk to me about yesterday?

"Not exactly.  I think you covered that.  It's just--who did you say you
talked to?"

I told him how Mori-san called my house yesterday and met me at the
station.  I tried to stick to the facts of things.  Mori-san was some
crazy stalker who knew I had this power for a long time and went mad
over it.  That's why I'd rather not see her again, definitely not at our
next mystery party, Koizumi-kun, but it hit home just how dangerous I
can be, that I could do something horrible without even realizing it...

"I see," said Kyon.  "Haruhi, I need to speak with Koizumi for a
minute."

Hmm, maybe we can have Mikuru-chan try a new outfit then?

"Eh?" she whimpered.

"Do as you like," said Kyon, taking Koizumi-kun by the arm.  "We won't
be long."

That was just as well, I thought.  If the boys wanted to be private,
well, I'd wondered for a while if Koizumi-kun and Kyon might have some
sort of special friendship, considering the way they'd pair off and talk
to each other from time to time.  Well, that's fine with me.
Mikuru-chan and I could think up new costume ideas--or, well, I wanted
to, but Mikuru-chan started getting all shy.  Well that's okay.  That's
cute too.  Kyon and Koizumi-kun can't be allowed to have too much time
to themselves.  The way we are here, we're practically guards for their
stuff while they hash it out in the hall, with Koizumi-kun's bag on the
table, and Kyon's...

Wait, where did his bag go?  Did he take it?

Kyon, you're up to something.

I went into the hall, and there was no civil conversation taking place
there.  Instead, I found only Koizumi-kun, sitting with his back to the
wall and cradling his head.  There was a round welt on his cheek with a
cut just below his eye.  Koizumi-kun, what happened here?  Kyon
didn't--he couldn't have--did he _hit_ you?

"I believe the correct expression is that I fell down a flight of
stairs," he said jovially, as if nothing were wrong.  "It really doesn't
hurt very much."

The hell it doesn't!  Yuki, Mikuru-chan, get some bandages and ice,
won't you?

"I'll be quite all right," said Koizumi-kun, rising.  "The two of us
merely had a misunderstanding."

What kind of misunderstanding is it that Kyon would hit you?

"A grave one, but a misunderstanding nonetheless, I promise you."

Mikuru-chan was quick with the first-aid kit, putting ointment and a
sticky bandage on Koizumi-kun's wound, but for the rest of the day, he
wouldn't explain to me exactly what Kyon was angry about or why it
happened.  He just said that Kyon accused him of being involved in
something he wasn't, that the only way Kyon could be convinced to leave
instead of accusing him further was to promise to make amends anyway.
But what was it for?

"A private matter," Koizumi-kun had said.  "That is all I'm permitted to
say for now.  You understand, of course."

Actually, I don't.  You should be careful with secrets, Koizumi-kun.
I'll permit this for now, but I'll demand an explanation when it suits
me.  Got it?

"With the Brigade Chief's orders, I have no choice but to comply."

+++

I'd like to say I got more out of Koizumi-kun than that, but I didn't.
He kept his mouth utterly shut about whatever happened that day, and
Kyon, after taking a walk around the building to cool off, was the same.
I pressed them a bit, but neither budged, and I let it go.  They didn't
fight any more, not in my sight, so I considered the matter settled.
There were more important things to think about anyway.

"Yo!  Haru-nyan!"

When Tsuruya-san's on the phone, it practically explodes with energy.

"Mikuru and I will be there soon, okay?  You're at the station already,
aren't you?"

Leaning by the doorway in the shade.  Always be first whenever you have
something to do.

"That's the spirit!  Listen, Mikuru's being stubborn; she won't let me
dress her for the occasion!"

Should've asked me.  I'd have helped.

"Well, that's all right.  We'll be just a few minutes, and then we can
cheer our lungs out, okay?"

We'll shout until the world is tired of hearing us.  That's a promise.

To patch things up after a rough week, the SOS Brigade had a weekend
outing planned, Tsuruya-san had been invited to an event late Saturday
afternoon, I knew it was the perfect way to start looking at life with
fresh eyes.  There's nothing more invigorating than an afternoon under
the sun, with the wind at your back and a healthy glare coming off the
bleachers.  Put on some lotion and wear a cap.  Bring some towels to
stay cool, and I hope you have a scorecard to keep track.  That's right;
it's exactly what you're thinking.

The SOS Brigade was bound for a baseball game.

I'd made it to the station by three-thirty, suited up and ready for
battle.  Make no mistake:  baseball _is_ a battle.  No, strike that:
baseball is more like war.  Battles are small.  They tide of combat can
turn quickly.  Wars are grander, bigger.  Whenever a battle is won or
lost, the strategy of a war changes.  When a pass is taken, the
commanding general is emboldened to press a more vicious attack.  The
same's true in baseball.  When the bases are loaded and it's a
three-ball count, you can swing aggressively.  And if you think the
pitcher knows that, maybe it's time to be sneaky and put down a squeeze.
All your strategy changes from play to play, pitch to pitch.  That's why
baseball can be exciting well after the game's been played.  You can
look back and say, 'This was the situation: bottom of the ninth, man on
third, two outs, cleanup hitter on deck.  Should I challenge this number
three hitter, or do I risk walking him and facing someone worse?'  And
if you're a fan of numbers and statistics, maybe the answer is
clear-cut.  There's a best choice based on how well the batters hit, how
often they hit the ball out, and so on.  That's baseball exactly.
Everything tends to be discrete.  You win, or you lose.  You reach first
base, or you swing away and the ball flies by.  Safe or out.  Ball or
strike.  There's no in-between, and there's precious little chance to
play revisionist history and fix a decision, even if it was a mistake.

That's what baseball's about:  living with the consequences, even if
they aren't fair.  That's why I waited at the station, holding the
hundred-yen coin from the vending machine between my fingers.  I gave it
up--something amazing--because it was the right thing to do.  I don't
regret that.  Why should I?  Someone with power who uses it recklessly
shouldn't be allowed to use it at all.  That's just the common sense
thing to do.  The brigade would keep searching for the unusual, the
unnatural, the strange.  There are other amazing things out there, not
just me.  When I think about what I can do...

Well, that's why I stayed close to the outer wall of the station, away
from sinkhole that was blocked off by cones, away from the cherry tree
where Mori-san yelled at me and called my boldness out for what it was:
selfish and dangerous.  Sometimes, I guess, you have to give yourself up
on a sacrifice fly.  That's the right thing to do.

"It's difficult, isn't it."

It was a woman's voice--low and gravely, distorted with age.  She wore a
red _yukata_ and had long, flowing hair--all gray, but still beautifully
kept.  She walked slowly, easing her weight on a single steel rod with
rubber ends, a baton-like cane.

"I know that look on your face, young lady," she said.  "It's the look
of a girl who's just given up a dream."

What makes you say that, Grandma?

"I've seen it on my own face, long ago.  Long I'd wished to be an
explorer of sorts, to study ancient cultures, you might say, yet before
I could tell left from right, I was chosen.  Did I choose that path for
myself?  Or was it fate and the inexorable hand of causation?  Who can
say, but here I am, completing the circle, fully aware that the first
step I took upon it I didn't understand.  As I said, Young Lady, I gave
up a dream.  I did it because I was forced to.  With you, I'm not so
sure."

With the old woman beside me, I flipped the coin.  It tumbled, end over
end.  It kicked off my knuckled, rolling away, and I jogged to chase
after it.

"You see?" the old woman went on.  "Even now, you hold on to that thing.
You dare not let it disappear.  Where are you going, Child?  Where are
you going that you need a hundred-yen coin so badly?"

If you must know, Grandma, my brigade and I are going to see a baseball
game.  A regional qualifying round for Koshien or something.  A friend
of ours was invited; it's not like we need money.  What's it to you?

"So that's what you think?  Interesting.  Well, for all our sakes, I
hope you know what you're headed for.  There are people--on this plane
and others--who wish to see you repeat history.  That wouldn't be a very
fair choice, would it?"

What are you talking about?

"You'll see," said the old woman.  "All things become clear in time, do
they not?  For now, however, I think you should focus on today."  He
loosened her belt, removing an object that'd been pressed against her
waist.  "You'll need this."

It was a baseball cap with a bright yellow bill.  The logo on the top--a
golden _H_ with a white _T_ through the middle--should be unmistakable
to anyone around here.

"I don't need that," I said.  "We're going to a high-school game."

She shook her head.  "Unlike you, I have the benefit of history, of
memory."  She put the cap in my hands.  "You should think carefully
about your friends.  This isn't the only thing they haven't told you.
They're not who you think they are.  That's what makes their loyalty all
the more remarkable."

Who are you, Grandma?

"Just an old friend of yours," she said, limping away on her cane.
"Don't worry.  We'll see each other again soon."

We will?

"Count on it," she said, pausing at a corner.  "That's a promise,
Suzumiya Haruhi-san."

What the?  Does everyone in the world know who I am?  Wait a minute--you
can't just walk away from me!

I followed the old woman around the corner.  She wouldn't get far from
me, after all, not with that cane and the hunch in her back, but when I
gazed down the side of the station, she was nowhere to be seen, like she
just popped out of existence, never to be seen again.  All she left me
with were a bunch of cryptic words and that new ball cap.

A Hanshin Tigers ball cap.  She said I'd need it today.

"Hey!" came a voice.  "Haru-nyan!"

Jogging across the street came Tsuruya-san.  She waved to me with one
hand and took Mikuru-chan along with the other.

"Looks like you're ready for the big game, too; awesome!"

I might've been ready, but Tsuruya-san was decked out in Tigers gear:  a
jersey, a flag, black and yellow paint streaked beneath her eyes.  You
guys--you didn't tell me we were going to the Tigers game.  I thought we
were going to a Koshien qualifier or something.

"What gave you that idea?"  Tsuruya-san held out the pack of six
tickets, fanning them out for each one to be seen.  "It's going to be a
blast, that's what!  We've got to show those Giants what we're made of,
right, Mikuru?"

"There are giants playing baseball?  Isn't that unfair?"

It's just if we're actually going to Koshien today, I expected you guys
would tell me flat out!

Tsuruya-san blinked.  "Why's that?  You don't like the Tigers?  That's
all right; it's not like I'm a huge fan or anything either, but if
you're going to a game, you should dress the part, right?  It's all
about the experience.  See, I tried to get Mikuru here to paint her
face, but she just shied away every time I got the brush close!"

It's not that I don't like the Tigers.  It's just that I have a good
memory, and I've been there before.  That day was a summer day, too.

The six of us had gathered by about four-thirty, and we took the bus
south, toward the stadium.  Already, the route was packed with people.
A young boy listened to the radio through tiny earbuds, telling his
father the starting lineups.  Two girls across from us ate happily from
FamilyMart boxed lunches, which had been relabeled "FamilyMurton"
lunches in honor of the American right fielder.  Baseball was in the
air, and Tiger fever is eternal.  That much hasn't changed in the last
five years.  The fans were just as enthusiastic, regardless of the
standings or the weather.  When you get to Koshien, there's only one
thing that matters:  baseball's going to be played, and if it's Hanshin
at home, then they're the only ones to root for.  For a little girl in
her sixth year of primary school, it was stunning to me how that mass
mentality had taken hold.  That much I haven't forgotten.

"Haruhi, is this really okay?"

The voice beside me was Kyon's.  He'd taken the aisle seat, looking
disinterested, but I knew that was just a front.  He was mulling over
something again.  That much he couldn't hide.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Going to Koshien like this, all of a sudden," he whispered.  "You
didn't know, did you?"

I don't see why that makes it a problem.  Tsuruya-san came across some
tickets.  It's fine.

"It's not.  I asked her about it.  She said she got the tickets in the
mail, from an anonymous sender who suggested she find five other friends
to go with."

So what.

"This isn't a coincidence.  Someone's screwing with us, screwing with
you."

How could they do that?  How could a mysterious sender know Koshien is a
special place to me?  Oh, I get it.  The mysterious sender is you!

"Be serious."

Well, if it's not you, then who else would know?  Who did you tell that
story to?

"No one!" he protested.  "I would never--"  He grimaced.  "You bared
your soul to me that day.  I don't treat it lightly."

Then the question remains, Kyon:  who could've done this on purpose?

He faced forward, frowning.  "I'm still trying to figure that out."

The bus pulled into Koshien Station, and from road and rail, eager fans
walked the path to the stadium.  Even in this small mass of people--a
few hundred, a thousand at the outside--it's easy to feel like you're
just one of many.  It's just three minutes from the station to the gate,
but to a grade-schooler, it was like treading through a dense
rainforest.  The trees tower above you, and you can't see more than a
half a meter forward or back.  That summer day five years ago, my father
had realized how lost I was.  He carried me for a while--as long as his
back would let him--and only then did I glimpse the extent of the crowd.
The stadium's changed since then.  It'd been renovated, improved, but
the fans are still the same.  People are still the same.

Mikuru-chan, Koizumi-kun, and Yuki had never been to Koshien before, so
before we cleared the gate, Tsuruya-san resolved to lead us on a grand
tour.  The ivy was thinner than I remembered, but the monument to Ruth
had stood enduring.  We bought Mikuru-chan a Tigers cap, which she wore
lightly, hoping not to mess up her hair too much, and we squeezed
through the always-narrow, crowded aisles, securing our seats.  With ice
packs from the vendor to keep us cool, we waited for first pitch as the
stadium filled.  It doesn't hold as many people as it used to, either.
The program said official capacity was just forty-eight thousand after
renovations.  Does a change of seven thousand people make that much of a
difference?  When they all shout together and cheer, no, it really
doesn't.  You can hear crowd clearly, yet if you go just a kilometer or
two away, their combined voices would be sound like little more than a
whisper.  You might think you have the loudest, most enthusiastic fans
gathered together in one place--and you might even be right--but that
doesn't make them that unique or special.  Anyone can be fanatical about
something.  Anyone can shout and holler.  That doesn't make them
special.

The game got off to a quick start.  After Iwata put Yomiuri down in the
top of the first, Hanshin went to bat.  Murton led off, watching a third
strike fly by.  The center fielder, Hirano, singled up the middle.
Then, Toritani came up and hit a weak ball to short, which was thrown
past first, giving Hirano third.  A walk and a sacrifice fly gave the
Tigers a one-run lead, and let me tell you, though it was still an out,
the crowd roared for it.  You could feel the excitement around you.  It
was electric.  Seeing almost fifty-thousand people stand and cheer, you
can't help but feel like the world is so much bigger than you.

I looked down; I stayed in my seat.  Kyon was right.  Being here again
was getting to me.  I remembered so clearly what I'd thought that day,
five years ago:  if my class at school was just one of many, how could
any of us be special?  Why couldn't I be special and different?  Through
three years in middle school, nothing had changed.  Even our first year
in high school, nothing changed, or so I thought.  If Mori-san had been
right, I'd changed long before the new term began.  I'd altered things,
made them the way I wanted, without even realizing it.  I'm special, but
I can't show it.  I shouldn't.

But I was tempted.  By the top of the seventh, night had fallen, and it
was 4-2 Hanshin.  Not much had happened since Murton hit a two-run
double in the fourth, giving the Tigers a lead again.  With a quick
strikeout from the new pitcher, Enokida, the fans around us started
getting out their balloons.

"Balloons?" asked Mikuru-chan, looking at deflated piece of rubber we
handed her.  "What are the balloons for?"

Just blow it up; you'll see.  Don't tie it off, though.  Keep it pinched
when you're done.

Hesitantly, Mikuru-chan blew.  The balloon grew into a long, inflated
shaft with a bulbous end, but Mikuru-chan--she didn't know when to stop
blowing.  The rubber swelled, stretching thinner.  The yellow color
paled.  Mikuru-chan blew and blew until--

POP!

Oh well, I'm sure you're thinking.  A balloon popped, annoying but no
big deal.  And ordinarily, that'd be right.  We'd have covered our ears
from the pain and given Mikuru-chan another to try again.  That would've
been... if Mikuru-chan hadn't sat on the end of the row, if a woman with
a tray of drinks hadn't passed by at that exact moment and, looking for
the source of the noise, lost her footing on the step between rows.  Her
sole slipped on the edge of the step.  The tray of drinks tilted; she
flailed.  She fell.

THUD!

"Ma'am?"  Kyon rushed out of his seat, stepping over the growing puddle
of fizzing brown cola.  "Are you all right?"

The woman sat up, wincing.  She touched the back of her head gingerly
and held her fingers before her eyes, rubbing a drop of red liquid dry
with blank curiosity, like she didn't understand what she was seeing.

"Hey, over here!" Kyon called toward the gate.  "We need some help!"

An usher ran out, radio in hand.  He sent for medics, even if only for a
minor scratch.  Better to be safe, after all.  Better to provide what
assistance he could, rather than let things be the way they'd be.  He
made sure the woman kept her head upright.  He talked to her and
insisted she not stop, even as the crowd cheered the third out and she
wondered what was happening.

"Ma'am," I said, "you lost all your drinks just now, right?"

She nodded slowly, her gaze distant, like she looked through me.

"Then I'll get some more for you, okay?"

"You want me to go with you?" asked Tsuruya-san.

No thanks.  I've got it.

I ran up the stairs and through the gate.  Concessions, concessions--to
hell with concessions.  I went to the toilet.  In all the renovations
they'd done here, the old, crappy facilities hadn't changed a bit.  I
ran water from a sink, and the stream cut in and out, like the pipes
were coughing.  I splashed my face with cold water and braced myself on
both sides of the basin, looking in the mirror.  That woman--I saw it
happening.  I saw her foot buckle and slide.  I could've stopped it.  If
she'd fallen harder, if she'd cracked her head on the steps, it wouldn't
just be something I _should've_ done.

No, I can't think like that; I have to remember what Mori-san said.  I
don't have control.  If I let everything go, I could do something even
more horrendous without meaning to--or _because_ I meant to, just for a
moment, and didn't think better of it.

What happened to that woman on the steps--that's just a stupid accident.
It's nobody's fault.  It's not my fault.

"I'm disappointed in you, Suzumiya-san."

A strong, echoing voice.  In the close quarters of the toilet, it felt
like it resonated coming back at me from all directions.  I spun around,
looking, searching, but the other women coming into the facilities
passed me by without a glance.

"An innocent person needed your help, and you coldly turned your back on
her.  You've yearned to call yourself unique, yet you reject what makes
you special so easily.  Even the plight of another isn't enough to bring
that out.  How boring."

Who are you?  Who's there?  Where are you hiding, in a stall?

I kicked at a door to a toilet, and there was a distinctively horrified
shout from inside.  Not at all like the calm, upbeat voice that taunted
me.

"You won't find me with your eyes, Suzumiya-san.  I've manipulated the
data here to conceal myself from visible light, but maybe, if you use
your power, you can see me.  If not, you'll just have to follow my
voice."

Why?  Give me a reason not to walk out of this room and go back to the
game.  Why should I stay around a taunting, invisible voice, huh?

"Again, you sadden me.  Someone's talking to you that you can't see.
Isn't that interesting enough for you?  Isn't that unique?"

It could be a microphone hidden in the mirror.

"How eager you are to deny the incredible even when it's right in front
of you."  The source of the voice moved toward the doorway; the angles
and intensities of her echoes changed subtly.  It _was_ like a person
was there, just hiding out of sight.  "That's your defining paradox,
Suzumiya-san.  It's something we don't fully understand."

'We?'

"We're very interested in you.  We know what you can do.  Your power
makes you more special than you realize.  I could tell you so very
much."

Uh-huh.  I'm missing the seventh-inning stretch.  Why don't you move
your invisible self and go back to stalking me like Mori-san or
something else.  I'm tired of people who know my name before I ever met
them.

Without even a hint of anger in her voice, the invisible girl answered.
"You're as single-minded as ever, Suzumiya-san.  Tell me:  would you
walk away even if that makes me kill every person in this stadium?"

What?

She giggled.  "Follow me.  I promise it'll be worth the chase.  And if
you don't, everyone watching this lovely game will die a terrible death.
That'd be interesting to me, too.  What will it be, Suzumiya
Haruhi-san?"

Her laughter grew faint.  She was walking away--if she even walked at
all, but let's just call it that, not knowing if she were a person or
some sort of eight-legged alien with glowing eyes or what.  She walked
away, and I went after her, into the walkway with concession stands and
memorabilia vendors on either side.

"Over here!"

She called out like she were a schoolgirl, skipping merrily on her way
home.  I pushed and shoved my way through the burgeoning crowd, passing
gate after gate.  The stands rattled; the music over the stadium
speakers boomed.


"Powerful hits and skillful pitch achieved a thousand times
"Trained with every discipline here at Koshien
"Crowned with constant victory glorious, matchless feat..."


"You'll lose me if you can't see," the voice called out.  "If I get
away, will that be enough, Suzumiya-san?  Or will you let me destroy all
these people?"

What can she do--set off a bomb?  If she can make herself invisible, it
could be in plain sight, too!  So why does she want me to follow her?
Damn you; show yourself!


"Always proud, invincible Hanshin Tigers
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Hanshin Tigers
"Go, go, go, go!"


As the final bars of the Tigers fight song faded into the night, I
glimpsed something in the crowd.  It was an outline, a
distortion--human-shaped, but that's all I could discern.  The invisible
girl ran through a gate, into the stands, and I followed, keeping the
shadow in sight.

"Good," she intoned.  "Did you even realize what you did?  You changed
the properties of  your rods slightly, giving them sensitivity to
near-infrared.  You didn't even know it, but you found a wavelength of
light my cloak doesn't shield against.  It's the sort of thing we hoped
you would do."

Shut up!  Stop talking, or tell me what you really want.  I'm tired of
this stupidity!

"What we want is simple.  We want you to use your power.  It's a unique
phenomenon in this universe, and we wish to learn from it."

I'm not going to oblige you just to appease your petty curiosity.  Screw
that!

"Then you force me to make good on my promise.  Oh well.  That's okay,
too."

There was a whine.  Thousands of long, bulbous balloons deflated, flying
over the stands.  They sputtered into the black of night, a blackness
that turned silver and white, shimmering, morphing into colors
indescribable, shapes foreign to human eyes.

"This space is under my jurisdiction now," said the voice.  "As for how
I'll kill these people, I think I'll use an idea from you."

Slowly, subtly, the empty balloons that fluttered to earth began to
halt.  Cups of soda floated from their holders.  No, no, no--you can't
do this.  I did this.  What the hell are you that can do this, too?

"It's more than just shrimp burgers and popcorn boxes flying away.
Don't you see?"

The crowd murmured--a panicked, sudden cry.  People gripped their seats,
clawed for something to hold on to.  Those who couldn't rose from the
stands--not on their own two feet but from inertia.  The earth beneath
them was spinning, yet its pull of gravity no longer held them to the
ground.

"I've wondered how long a fall it takes to kill a human," said the
voice.  "I've wondered how much that height varies with size and shape
and weight.  We're going to have an experiment, Suzumiya-san.  We're
going to watch all these people as they fall, one-by-one, back to the
ground and die.  It's going to be a wonderful source of data on organic
life, on the reactions of cells and the body to trauma.  If we can't
observe your power, Suzumiya-san, this will do for now.  It'll be
fascinating seeing how _you_ react to it.  So tell me--are you so
stubborn you won't help these people?  Are you so resistant to using
your power again you'd let me kill them?  You must return gravity to
this place quickly, before the fall is too great.  What will you do, hm?
I'll be very interested to find out!"

People.  Thousands of people, all being used to get to me.  What does
everyone know that I don't?  Mori-san, the old woman, now this
invisible, maniacal girl.  I don't know what to do.  I won't erase
another person.  I won't strike anyone else down.  I can't be
responsible for anything like that, but I can't let all these people be
treated like discarded toys and stomped underfoot, either!  There are
children here.

My friends are here.  Tsuruya-san, Koizumi-kun, Mikuru-chan, Kyon--

THWAP!

The mystical, shimmering light went to black.  The stands rumbled; the
spectators fell to their seats.  Some cried out as they landed.  Others
stood up in disbelief.  And in front of me, the invisible girl had been
made clear.  She wore a North High uniform, and a single metal spear cut
through her shoulder, with seeping blood staining her clothes near the
wound.  Her hair was long and dark and flowing.

I felt a chill.  She shouldn't be here.  She was erased!  Yet instead,
she stood before me with a grin, even as she admired the weapon that'd
brought her to light.

"Oh my."  She pulled the spear out and cast it aside.  "How very
unexpected.  Well, it looks like your powers won't be needed today.
I've overstepped and been disciplined, but there are others like me who
want to meet with you.  You know where to find me."

Where?

"At home, of course."  She nudged the spear toward me, rolling it with a
kick of her foot.  It changed shape, morphing, sparkling.  One moment,
it was a metal spike, the next...

A Hanshin Tigers baseball cap.  I picked it up, and under the bill,
there was just one identifying mark.  A set of initials in Roman
characters.  _MA_.

"Be seeing you."

I turned around, and she was gone, her laughter the only thing that
could be heard.  Asakura Ryoko--a psychopath, an entity of some power.
I don't even know where to begin.  All I could do was look to my right,
where the spike had come from.  Something just as powerful must've
stopped her.  Something just as interesting--or as frightening.

I didn't get a clear look, but I saw enough.  In the gate to the next
section over, a girl with pale hair walked away, tucking a green
hardcover under her arm.