[FFML] [SHnY] The Coin - Chapter Four (v2)

[Michael Clark]

As you may notice, this revision is markedly different from the first
version.  As was made clear to me, the previous had several logical
problems which, with those removed, couldn't be saved.  So this is a
different approach.  I feel it can follow equally from the third chapter
that came before it.


The Coin
Chapter Four

"Yuki!"

My voice rang out clearly, for in the aftermath of Asakura's attack, the
stadium was quiet--a lot quieter than fifty thousand people ever should
be.  Maybe it was the shock of what'd happened.  I doubt most people
could even start to understand what Asakura had done.  Hell, _I_ didn't
understand what that show of lights meant or how she made the people
float out of their seats.  Was she something like me?

My gut clenched.  Just the possibility of being anything like _her_
should make anyone sick.  I put the thought out of my mind.  Someone
else stopped Asakura.  Someone else used Mikuru-chan's cap to do it.  I
knew that well; I held the hat in my hands.

And I knew who I'd seen walking away on the next aisle.

"Yuki, stop!"

She must've heard me.  It was too quiet.  She couldn't have missed it.
Why won't you answer me, Yuki?

I started to go after her, back to the concession alley, but there was a
scream, a commotion.  The aisles started to flood with people,
scampering to leave their seats.  It was like, all of a sudden, all the
fans woke from their stupor, and I wasn't halfway up the section stair
before I was surrounded, bumped, and jostled from every direction.  What
could I do to change that?  "Hey, everyone, stop!" I could yell.  "You
have to let me through, so I can find out why this cute little bookworm
girl was on the wrong side of the stadium when this other invisible girl
was speared in the shoulder, okay?"  I may be commanding as a brigade
chief, but getting a few hundred people to listen to you is a different
matter!

At least, if you don't have powers.  I could picture Asakura grinning
with the idea--that if I did something subtle, something no one would
notice, all these people might stop and listen and get out of the way.
I'll be honest:  that smile of hers scares the shit out of me.  I don't
want to give her what she wants.

But, on the other hand, I can't stand by and be powerless.  I can't just
listen to Mori-san.  I stood around, forcing myself to do nothing.  I
shouldn't have hesitated.  I should've set out to walk the fine line.

I know all that because I saw what made the spectators run from their
seats.  Most of them were unhurt, it looked like.  They'd floating out
of their seats far too slowly to be in danger.  I imagine you could hold
yourself down and be fine--if you had something to hold on to.  If you
were unlucky enough to be on the field or in an aisle--there are no
handrails or anything like that, not at Koshien...

That's why I should've done things differently.  I was afraid of myself.
I didn't want to give in to her, but I ended up doing just that.  I
didn't give her everything, but she got the next best thing.

In the next aisle over, some people had stopped, forming a circle and
kneeling down.  I couldn't see what they were crowding around, but I
could guess.  I was torn over it.  I hoped, on the one hand, that those
passers-by might be able to help that person, to bring him back so the
paramedics, whenever they got here, would have a fighting chance to save
him.

And on the other, I hoped he'd gone quickly, so Asakura would've missed
the light in his eyes going out.

+++

They stopped the game after the incident, leaving it unfinished in the
bottom of the seventh.  All around the outside of the stadium, blue and
red lights flashed.  Police officers gathered at each gate and stair,
ushering those who could walk to safety.  Paramedics pushed their way
through the crowd and carried out those who couldn't.  Most people
couldn't wait to make a beeline for the station, but I cut across and
around the stadium's perimeter.  Yuki should still have been around
there somewhere.  Kyon and the others--they'd wait for me.  I tucked the
other hat under my arm and started dialing my phone.

"Haruhi?"

A siren blared as an ambulance motored off.  I covered one ear with my
hand and pressed the phone to the other.  "Kyon?" I began.  "Can you
hear me?  Is everyone all right?"

"We're fine; everyone's fine.  What happened?  Where did you run off
to?"

I winced.  Just what should I say?  That I'd found an invisible girl in
the toilet and chased after her?  Okay, maybe that's a little more
believable ever since I started doing impossible things myself, but then
I'd have to explain it all--why Asakura was trying to manipulate me, why
I didn't act to save everyone sooner.  Because I was stubborn, because I
was scared, I made someone else do it for me.

Someone like Yuki.  That's what I wanted to know.  I wanted to know
about Yuki.

"Haruhi?  Are you still there?"

"Is Yuki with you?" I asked.

"Nagato?  Yeah, she's here."

"When did she get back?"

"Just now?  Look, we're outside by stair twenty-two.  Tsuruya-san is
getting a car for us since the bus's bound to be packed."

"Then thank Tsuruya-san for me.  Tell her we'll do ten thousand hours of
service for her in return!"

" 'Ten thousand'?" he cried.  "And what kind of service?"

"But more importantly," I said, "don't let Yuki out of your sight.
That's an order!  You understand?"

"What's all this about?"

"And Kyon, I expect if you so much as skinned your elbow from what
happened today, you would tell me.  A good brigade member doesn't hide
any injuries from the chief.  You're not hurt at all, are you?"

"No."

"Not even a scratch?"

"I was worried about you, too, Haruhi."

My ears went a little warm.  Kyon, I'm glad you can't see me right now.

"I'm really all right.  We all are."

I let out a breath, relieved.  If any of us, the brigade of Tsuruya-san,
were hurt, it'd be worse.  I know that's horrible to say out loud or
write in black and white, but it's true, isn't it?  No one means as much
to you as your family and friends.  I've always had family, of course,
but for a long time, I thought anyone I met at school or in
clubs--anyone I could possibly make friends with--wouldn't be
interesting, wouldn't be worth knowing.

That's all changed in the last year.  My friends were at this baseball
game with me.  They don't have to be time-travelers, aliens, espers, or
sliders to be interesting.  Mikuru-chan is adorable.  Koizumi-kun's wise
and agreeable.  Tsuruya-san is like another burst of energy whenever
she's around.  And yes, as much as I nag on him, Kyon is Kyon--my dose
of reality, of honesty that no one else can give.

That just leaves Yuki, really, and if she _is_ the person I saw walking
away from me as Asakura disappeared--no, there's no _if_ about it, I
know she is--then there's the Yuki I know...

And there's someone else--or some_thing_ else--too.

I stayed on the line with Kyon until I caught up to him and the others
at our entry gate.  The weather had turned a bit cool for a summer
evening; I spotted Mikuru-chan with a blanket draped over her shoulders,
the one we'd brought to protect from the sun.  Even though Kyon was on
the line with me and Koizumi-kun was looking over the crowd, too, it was
Tsuruya-san who spotted me first.

"Yo, Haru-nyan, you're okay?  That's a big relief after all this
trouble.  I feel like it's my fault, getting all of you involved in
this."

Like you could've guessed a psychotic alien would attack today?  Not a
chance.  I told Tsuruya-san we'd be glad to tag along with her, anytime,
as long as she'd have us.  We still had a summer retreat planned, didn't
we?

"That's the spirit!" she cried.  "At times like this, you have to
remember to treasure the days you have, you know."

Truer words have never been said.  That's why I watched the sixth member
of our group as we waited for Tsuruya-san's car.  Yuki had parked
herself beside Koizumi-kun like a statue, reading from her hardcover
like nothing had happened.

"Well?"

I jolted.  Kyon, don't sneak up on me like that!

"If you're watching Nagato, does that mean I still have to?"

Well, if you must ask, the order has yet to be rescinded.  To disregard
it would be wanton dereliction of duty!

"That armband says 'Brigade Chief,' not 'Minister of Defense.' "

Yuki's eye wandered from the pages of the green hardcover.  That's no
good; we'd only spook her like this.  I pulled Kyon aside.

"Where are we--"

"Shh!" I hushed him, looking back to watch Yuki.  She wasn't watching
us, but could she be listening instead?  Could she have some super
hearing power?  Well, if she did, she'd already know I'd spotted her.
She hadn't done anything about it.  Either she wasn't going to, even if
I told Kyon...

Or I'd be ready, just in case--more ready than I had been with Asakura.
As impossible as it is to imagine anything like that coming from Yuki...

Well, that's why someone needs to know.

"Kyon," I began, "you're going to have a hard time believing this, but
just listen, okay?  I'm not making this up.  When I went to the toilet,
after that woman fell, someone was waiting for me.  It was--"

"Asakura."

Yeah, it was Asa--wait, you're not supposed to know that yet!  I didn't
tell you!

"It's all right," he said.  "Nagato told me everything."

Yuki told him everything.  Yuki, who wouldn't stop for me or even meet
my eyes, told Kyon exactly what happened?  Why would she do that?
Wouldn't it be a shock for him, for everyone, to see Yuki running off
with Mikuru-chan's hat?  With no explanation for why, and then all
that...

Unless Kyon knew what Yuki was all along.

"Haruhi, look at me," he said.  "Take a minute.  Take a breath."

"What is she?" I whispered.  "A superhuman?  Genetically altered?  Is
that what Asakura is, too?  That light--they're sliders, aren't they?
They took us to another dimension!"

"They're not sliders; they're aliens."

An alien.  Yuki's an alien.  She's some sort of _thing_, a creature
bottled into human form.  Gods, if I hadn't seen that pointed metal
spear sticking through Asakura's shoulder, I don't think I'd believe it
now.

But what's more amazing than all that is the person who's telling me
this.  Kyon, of all people, would be the last person I'd ever expect to
have a secret life with aliens.  How can this be true, Kyon?  How do you
know this to be true?

I asked him, and his brow furrowed.  He checked over his shoulder, at
Yuki and the others.  Mikuru-chan and Tsuruya-san were talking.  Yuki
was reading her book.  Koizumi-kun had a relaxed expression, standing
between the three of them.  At last, with a heavy breath, Kyon faced me
again.

"Haruhi," he said, "what do you remember about Tanabata four years ago?"

That Tanabata...

You'd be better off asking me what I don't remember, Kyon.  It was a
muggy night.  The skies were clear.  All the preparations I'd made in
advance.  I'd gone to one of the teachers during lunch, asking about a
math problem, and swiped the gate key he kept on a neck chain.  After
that, I'd headed to the athletic storeroom, moving what I needed--a line
marker, a cart, and some lime--to the back, where no one would look.
That's because if I'd tried to steal a key from my gym teacher and got
caught, I'd be in trouble.  He used to do pro wrestling, you know, and
he made it clear that any lack of discipline on our part would be
punished with a demonstration of his old moves.  I always thought that
was pretty fishy, probably illegal even, but since no one else had been
crazy enough to find out, I didn't want to be first.

Ever since I'd had that weird dream the night before, I'd started
drawing up the message I wanted to send.  If there were aliens out
there, watching us, it could easily take them dozens or hundreds of
years to see my drawing and send a response.  They might not even
realize it's there until well after the light from Earth that night had
passed them by.  At any rate, I figured it had to be done right the
first time.  Radio signals and skyscrapers only showed them our
technology, our knowledge.  Only a few people were actually trying to
get messages to the stars, and who better to aim that message to on the
seventh day of the seventh month than the weaver princess and her
cow-herding lover in the sky?

In hindsight, I think my message was received, just not by whom I
expected to get it.  I was fully prepared to draw it all myself, to make
corrections as I stepped back and gained perspective.  If I had to, I'd
take all night to get it perfect, but instead, I had help.  There was a
stranger at the gate that night, carrying his sister on his back.
That's the only thing I don't remember as clearly as I'd like.  In the
moon- and starlight, I never saw his face that well, but we talked for
some time.  He wasn't like normal people.  He saw no reason aliens,
time-travelers, and espers shouldn't be everywhere.  He was from North
High, and he said there were people there who sent messages to the
stars, too.

After that night, I thought, if I went by North High from time to time,
I might see him.  Even if I wasn't sure if his face, I should recognize
him, right?  By the way he walked?  By who he hung out with and how he
acted?

I never found him, though.  Maybe if I'd known more about him, I
could've, but I didn't.  I just knew he had an older sister, that he
went to North High, and that, on that night, he went by an alias--a
pathetically obvious one at that.  It was a name that shouldn't have
meant anything.

"You went to East Middle School to draw lines on the ground, didn't
you?"

A blinked.  Was that guy talking to me, calling back from the past?

No, no, we were still on that street corner, surrounded by thousands of
anxious souls.  And it wasn't that guy from the past whispering to me.
It was Kyon.

"A lot of people know that," I answered him.  "It's not a secret."

"But what no one knows, what you didn't tell a soul, is that someone
helped you," said Kyon.  "You found him, a North High student, and you
pressed him into drawing that diagram for you while you watched.  I'm
right, aren't I, Haruhi?  You remember like it was yesterday: how he
called out to you, after you were finished, and asked you to never
forget his name."

And I didn't!  I couldn't!  I searched all over for him, yet nothing
came of it.  I dreamed of the day he'd find me and ask if I remembered
that summer night.

But now it's you who's telling me this, Kyon?  How can this be?  Did he
tell you?  No, he wouldn't, would he?  But if he didn't--no, that
doesn't make sense!  We're in the same year.  If you'd been in high
school then, you should've been gone before I ever came to North High.
How can you tell me I've seen your face day in and day out for over a
year now and never thought...

Is this why I felt you were familiar?  Is this why I thought I knew you
but couldn't place how or where?

"Haruhi," he whispered, "do you need me to say that name?"

No--I mean, yes--I mean--

I don't know.  My heart was racing.  I stared at him, studying his face.
These are details I should know too well by now--the color of his eyes,
the way his hair falls around his ears.  They _are_ like that person's
features, aren't they?  If I could remember more clearly...

I guess you need to tell me, then.  I need to hear it to be absolutely
sure.  Tell me the name you used that night.

Tell me your name is John...

"And kiss her!"

Kyon and I sprang apart, my heart beating almost out of my chest.  What
on Earth are you talking about, Tsuruya-san?!

"What's this?"  She tilted her head innocently.  "I thought sure
Kyon-kun and Haru-nyan were having a love-love moment.  Was I wrongs?"

+++

As it turns out, Tsuruya-san had good reasons for interrupting us.  The
police had set up a perimeter around the stadium, and no private
vehicles were permitted to enter.  We walked two blocks to meet her
father's private car--a jet black stretch limousine.

"If you and Kyon-kun want some privacy, that can be arranged too," she
whispered to me as we walked.  "Sometimes, it just takes one day to
realize what's important to you in life.  I think we'd all understand."

Kyon and I aren't like that, Tsuruya-san!  I mean, it's not like I
wouldn't consider it, but I don't know if he--I mean, that's not what we
were talking about!

Besides, you may know him as Kyon, but he's John Smith, too.  At least,
I can only assume so--unless he's John Smith pretending to be some guy
called Kyon, having waited, ticking off the days until the right time...

Tsuruya-san's car sped away from the stadium, and there were more
questions burning in my mind than there are protons in this universe.  I
couldn't stand it--sitting there quietly with Kyon across from me, just
as silent while the others were chatting away.  We were interrupted,
after all.  Kyon didn't really say anything.  Whatever I thought that
meant could turn out to be wrong.  If I couldn't hear him say it
plainly, I'd have to make sure some other way.

I'd have to see it in black and white.

I opened my phone and started pounding at the keypad.  John Smith is my
secret, after all.  I wasn't about to blurt it out for everyone to hear.

My question was simple.  Either he'd understand, or he wouldn't.  I hit
_send_, and his phone vibrated in his pocket.  He flipped it open,
scratching his temple, and looked up.  I don't know if he was surprised
or uncertain or what.  Maybe it was a little weird for me to press the
issue even while we were surrounded by Tsuruya-san and the rest of the
brigade.  I'd waited four years to find that person, right?  What's
another minute, another day?

Screw that.  He's sitting in front of me, and there's no reason to wait
any longer when all I have to do is ask an easy question and hope he
answers it.

I typed it in, one character at a time.  Kyon, if you're who I think you
are, you know the answer right away.

"What is your name?"

He started thumbing in his response, one keypress at a time.  He looked
up from time to time, acting like he was intimately involved in
Tsuruya-san's story about how her ancestors survived the Great Genroku
Earthquake.  It didn't take him long to answer, though, and in the dim
light of the limousine, I covered my phone to keep the glow from
disturbing anyone else.  The answer was there, in Roman characters so
I'd be absolutely sure.

"JOHN SMITH."

That's what came up on my phone's screen, and I think I about jumped out
of my seat, banging my head on the roof of the limo.

"Suzumiya-san?  Are you all right?"

That was Mikuru-chan, who blinked curiously at me like she wasn't sure
how I hadn't put a hole through the roof doing all that.  Really,
though, it stung, but I was fine.  They should have a sunroof or
something.  Don't they have sunroofs on these things?

"It is unfortunate; I agree," said Koizumi-kun.  "The use of sunroofs is
substantially reduced at night.  I think I read a study to that effect.
Perhaps, if there were a way to make the sun's rays visible even after
dark.  It's conceivable a set of reflective Niven rings would do the
trick."

"Then it wouldn't be dark at night," said Kyon.  "You'd do all that to
make it so you can use a sunroof after dusk?"

Koizumi-kun made a face at that, like he'd been caught off-guard.  He
waved it off as a momentary lapse, but I didn't mind it.  He'd actually
been really helpful to me.  He proved to me that Kyon was still Kyon,
even if he was John Smith, too.  If he saw something that didn't make
sense, he wouldn't hesitate to speak up about it.

But how did he get to be John Smith in the first place?

I got to thumb-typing on my phone again as the conversation switched to
convertibles and how Mikuru-chan had never stuck her head out a car
window and gotten her hair ruffled or anything like that.  While
Tsuruya-san tried to convince her to do it then and there, I sent my
next message.

"So you're a time-traveler," I wrote.

Kyon got the mail and instantly shook his head.  So you're not a
time-traveler?

Then he blinked, frowned, and reconsidered.  "I've traveled through
time, but I needed help to do it."

If I'd had the time or the patience, I'd have mailed him back that he
shouldn't send messages that demand obvious responses, but that would've
taken another mail and gotten us too far down the wrong path.  I ignored
it, sending back the 'obvious' response:  "From who?"

He looked to the open window.

"Tsuruya-san!"  Mikuru-chan was being dangled halfway out that open
window, panting and making an _Eee!_ noise as she breathed.
"Tsuruya-san, I can't feel my face!"

"Don't worry; dogs do it all the time," said our host.  "Here,
Koizumi-kun, why don't you give me a hand holding her up?  There's
plenty of room to grab on!"

Koizumi-kun's eyes widened, and he waved her off.  "I'm afraid I must
politely decline..."

As Mikuru-chan finally begged Tsuruya-san to let her back in all the
way, Kyon's eyes met mine.  He looked to the window and back again,
hitting the point home.  The time-traveler--she had to be...

I shut my phone.  "No way," I mouthed to him.

He nodded repeatedly.

Mikuru-chan's a time-traveler?  This mousy girl beside me?

Kyon caught my baffled expression and started typing again.  "John
Smith's older sister."

The sleepy narcoleptic girl?  That's right, she could've been there.
Yuki's an alien.  Mikuru-chan's a time-traveler.  What could be next?
Tsuruya-san and Koizumi-kun?  Are they sliders, then?

When I asked him that, Kyon made a face.  What's that supposed to mean?
There are no sliders anywhere?  He didn't say, of course.  His answer
was much simpler.

"She's normal, as far as any of us know."

All right.

"He's an esper."

An esper?  So he could be reading our thoughts right now?

"He wasn't given that kind of power," Kyon sent back.

And who gave him what powers he does have, then?

Kyon closed his phone and looked straight at me.  The meaning was clear
as day.

I did.

I put my phone away.  I looked through the tinted windows, trying to
keep my eyes on the outside, on what was moving.  I know that's supposed
to work for motion sickness, but we were hardly driving fast enough for
anything like that.  It's not every day you find out your friends have
these amazing secret lives they never could tell you about.  Just
sitting there, looking out the window and listening to them talk, I
wanted to jump in and stop everything.  How far in the future are you
from, Mikuru-chan?  What's your home planet like, Yuki?  What kind of
special powers do you have, Koizumi-kun?  That'd only scratch the
surface, too, but with Tsuruya-san there, it was like we were all just
ordinary high-school students on our way back home.  You'd never know
the difference just by looking at us.

I felt exhausted.  Between Asakura and finding all this out from Kyon
Smith here, I think all the excitement finally caught up to me.  I ran
through in my head a bunch of other things I wanted to know: when Kyon
must've gone back in time to meet me, why he did it, how Mikuru-chan
helped, why I would've given Koizumi-kun powers, what the relationship
between Yuki and Asakura was, and more, but my thoughts started
drifting.  The street lights passed us by at even intervals, rhythmic
and hypnotic.

+++

Tsuruya-san's driver dropped off Mikuru-chan at her complex first, then
Koizumi-kun, then Yuki.  When I asked Tsuruya-san how that could
be--we'd gone around Kyon and my houses to do just that--she winked at
me, claiming it was a navigational error, an honest mistake.

As we pulled up to Kyon's house, he was indifferent about it.  "My
parents and sister are out of town for the weekend.  It's not like
they're waiting for me to come back and tell them I'm alive.  Good
night, Tsuruya-san, Haruhi."

Good night?  We can't stop right now; talking over mail messages and
simple gestures isn't enough!

I jumped out of the car, ignoring Tsuruya-san's snickering.  "Are you
sure I can't take you any further?" she said.

"I'll be fine," I called back.

Kyon gawked at me, eyes wide.  Tsuruya-san's limo sped away, but his
gaze never wavered.

"What's this about?" he asked.

You know what this is about.  You've been holding out on me, having
these adventures with aliens and time-travelers.  How interesting the
tales of John Smith must be.  I bet you could fill ten or twelve books
with them, right?

"Something like that," he said.  "Why?  You want me to start from the
beginning?"

I shook my head.  "The beginning isn't usually the best part, is it?  I
want to hear all about it, of course--every last detail, if you'll let
me."

"That's kind of the idea."

"But today," I said, "if you had only one story to tell me, what would
it be?  The best adventure John Smith ever had--tell me about it."

He smiled to himself, ever-so-slightly, and motioned for me to follow.
We walked the path to his door together, and with a simple turn of a
key, he undid the lock.

" 'John Smith's most special adventure,' huh?  Where to begin...?"

He flipped on a light, and we kicked off our shoes, but Kyon didn't
bother with getting an extra pair of slippers from the closet.  Instead,
he undid the top button on his shirt.

"John Smith's powers don't just extend to space and time," he said.  "He
has the ability to explore a girl's dreams."

There was a tingling on the back of my neck.

"He was curious about a girl he'd met some years before, and he found
her imagination as expansive and unending as he'd ever conceived of."

I stepped forward, watching him, studying him.  Kyon's always been a
little guarded.  You won't catch him cackling or with a big grin, but he
smiles from time to time, and it's not forced or put-on.  He means it.

Even so, I'm not perfect at reading people.  I had to ask, just to be
sure.  "You thought that was an exciting dream?" I asked.

"Absolutely.  There were white giants taller than a skyscraper, parading
all about.  It was impressive, seeing a world so meticulous in detail,
so close to reality, yet imbued with the dreamer's signature touch..."

Oh gods, who _is_ this person?  Where's he been hiding, this guy who
serenades a girl with romantic tales of his adventures?  This is too
much, Kyon; I just found out you were John Smith today!  This poetic
reverence in your voice, the look in your eyes--I don't know how much
longer I can hold back against those.

Or if I even want to.

"Do I need to ask permission, Brigade Chief?" he whispered.

Permission?  Why should you ask permission?

"You might think it strange for a guy who's traveled through time to
visit a girl when she was thirteen and befriend her three years later."

I'm in no mood to worry about such things right now, Kyon; this is what
I've wanted for so long--to share something awe-inspiring with you and
see the wonder in your eyes, except it's not what I thought it would be.
Today, it's you who's shown me something amazing, and I don't want to
forget because it excites me.  It's exhilarating, this sensation, this
feeling.  Every square centimeter of my skin is tingling.  If you touch
me with even the tip of your finger, I don't know what'll happen.  I
don't know if I'll be able to stand.

"No qualms?" he asked.  "Then this should make things a little better."
He lifted the ball cap from my head, dropping it lightly to the ground.

"You know," I said, "I do have a hair-band, if you think we'll need it."

He smiled to himself.  "No, no.  The person in front of me is just
fine."  He leaned in.  His breath tickled my lips.  His fingers brushed
the back of my arm, my elbow.  I closed my eyes, and--

HONK-HONK!

And while tires screeched outside the window, I hit my head on the roof
of the limo for the second time that night.  I need to train myself not
to do that--to jump from surprise or excitement in a motor vehicle.  It
_hurts_.

"Let me guess," said Kyon.  "You got excited about something again?"

That's, um, nothing I want to describe in front of four other people.  I
mean, not unless you're into that sort of thing, but--

I blinked.  The limo was idling.  The cabin was quiet.  Tsuruya-san and
the others had disappeared.  "Where are we?" I asked.

"Kitaguchi Station.  At the very least, I had to come back and get my
bike."

Bah, of course, I'd forgotten all about that.  Silly dreams.  They can
be so out of touch with reality.  "What about the others?"

He pointed outside.  Through the window, Tsuruya-san was keeping the
rest of the brigade entertained with stories.

"I asked her to give us a minute," said Kyon.  "She was all too happy to
oblige."

"So you were watching me sleep?" I asked.

He looked away.

"You didn't draw on my face, did you?"

He snorted.  "We've had this conversation before, Haruhi.  No, I just
figured the brigade chief hadn't yet given her members permission to
adjourn--that if she still had business with them..."

Business with the brigade, huh?  I did have some things I wanted to say.
There's been a lot to take in, and maybe it wouldn't be a crime to rest
and sleep, to come back tomorrow with fresh eyes and a clear head.

But that's not how Suzumiya Haruhi does things.  Tsuruya-san was right;
there's no time like the present.  I don't want to go another second
without knowing all of you.  I don't want to go another minute before I
meet everyone again.

With a deep breath, I stepped out of the limousine and shielding my eyes
to adapt to the light.

And there they were--my friends, yet I felt like I'd only begun to know
them.  Yuki closed her book, looking back at me.  Koizumi-kun gave a
small nod of respect.  Mikuru-chan put her hands together in front of
her, standing tall.

"Ah, she's awake!" cried Tsuruya-san, rushing over to peer at me.  "Did
you have good dreams, Haru-nyan?"

I did, but it wasn't reality, and reality is what I want to find today.
"Tsuruya-san," I said, "thanks for inviting us, even though things
turned out badly.  I think we'll be all right from here."

"Oh, I see what's doing--private SOS Brigade business, right?  Okies.
Mikuru, call me!"

As Kyon ambled up behind me, Tsuruya-san climbed back into the limo and
winked at us.  The door shut, and she took off, the limousine
disappearing into the night.  There we were--the SOS Brigade--but I felt
like I should introduce myself to them.  We weren't the same group
that'd met that afternoon.  I was sure of that.

"Guys," I said to them, "Kyon's told me some things, but I get the
feeling there's a lot left to talk about.  I know it's been a long day,
but..."

"Perhaps we could sit down at the cafe?" Koizumi-kun suggested, looking
a bit too amused with himself.  "I think that would be an appropriate
venue to revisit past events."

"So Kyon-kun did tell Suzumiya-san about us after all?"  Mikuru-chan
wrung her hands.  "But then this is really unknown territory to me.
What might happen now is highly classified information; I don't know if
I'm supposed to be the one dealing with things like this..."

"Whether we're the ones meant to be here or not, the task falls to us,"
said Kyon.  "Shall we go?"

Yeah.  Let's go together.  I want to have tea with a time-traveler.  I
want to have a conversation with an esper entirely in my mind.  I want
to hear alien languages and see their bizarre forms.  I've probably done
at least a couple of these things already, not even knowing it, and
that's what excites me.  That's what's amazing.  Looking in a large
glass window from the storefront beside us, I glimpsed our reflections.
We walked together, a parade of the most interesting people on this
planet, whether they were exotic creatures or not.  That's undeniably
cool, except...

"Haruhi?"  Kyon pressed his lips together, stifling a laugh.  "What's
the problem?"

The problem was there were black marker lines all over my forehead and
cheeks.  "Kyon," I said, "you really _did_ draw on my face!"

+++

It took ten minutes for me to rub off all the marker.  Kyon laid the
blame squarely on Tsuruya-san, insisting that no one else had anything
to do with it, but Yuki pointed out that Mikuru-chan had been persuaded
to join in as well.  It was Koizumi-kun who said the most interesting
thing, though.  When I came back from the toilet, finding our drinks at
the table, I realized I must've taken longer than I'd thought.  That's
when he said it:

"Truthfully, I'm surprised you used paper and water to do the job
instead of wiping the ink away with your powers.  Perhaps it's a small
act, but I think it an act providing marvelous insight.  My colleagues
would be most interested to hear of this."

Colleagues, Koizumi-kun?

"If they're anything like this guy," Kyon began, "then they're the kind
of people who, if Professor Freud told them that sometimes a cigar
really _is_ a cigar, they might not believe it on the first go."

"Ah, but Professor Freud may never have made that statement,"
Koizumi-kun asserted.  "Hence, I find it curious you would deflect the
possibility of insight into Suzumiya-san's mind.  Perhaps you feel you
already understand her quite well?"

Kyon sighed, looking at me.  "You see what I've had to deal with?"

I didn't quite understand then, but I picked up a few things over the
course of that night.  I learned.  I learned that Koizumi-kun fancied
himself a philosopher of sorts, speculating that I was everything from a
cosmic creature left to maintain this universe to God Himself, and it
wasn't Kyon who disagreed with him--at least, he wasn't the one most
vehement in doing so.

"How could Suzumiya-san even exist if she created this world?" asked
Mikuru-chan.  "Why would she make a universe With all the details and
history you remember, out of all the possibilities?"  She shook her head
confidently.  "In the future, we find that idea very implausible.  This
world has always been here.  Somehow, Suzumiya-san developed or was
given her power, but there is a well-defined time before that event."

"A time you cannot reach," Koizumi-kun pointed out, "and hence cannot be
certain really exists."

"But of course it--"  Mikuru-chan stopped, looking at me nervously.  "I
mean, why should it not?  You may have to take my word for it,
Koizumi-kun.  The details I'd use to prove it all seem to be
classified..."

Koizumi-kun wasn't satisfied with that, though, and the two of them went
back and forth for a time, with Yuki jumping in only when Kyon asked for
her opinion to settle the debate.

There was one thing they all agreed with, though--or at least, they were
too cautious to rule it out.  I may not have created this world.
Perhaps I couldn't irrevocably change it in a way that would be felt ten
or a hundred or a thousand years from now, but if I grew dissatisfied
enough with it, if I wanted to escape to another realm, another place,
it was possible.  I could do that.  Maybe the exact nature of that act
wasn't well-understood, but I'd done it before.  Kyon knew it, too.

That was the day he used fairy tales to save the world.  He wasn't so
crass about it as to say what he'd done, not in front of the others, but
the meaning was clear:  he kissed me to save the world, and whatever
else he might've felt...

Well, I should be fair.  That was just one incident out of many where
the brigade did things to keep me from getting angry, to appease me, to
keep this world exactly the way it was.  Faced with the possibility,
however remote, that it could be replaced with something utterly foreign
and strange, I don't know if I'd have done any differently.  I can think
up totally bizarre and alien universes--ones where space has only a
forward and back, but time is like a plane, where future and past have a
left and right, too.  I don't know what would've happened if I'd become
so possessed with realizing that kind of idea.  Maybe it's best that
none of us know.

But it's weird and unsettling--to hear how your memories of being with
people don't really tell the whole truth.  Over the course of that
night, I heard so many stories.  Those few days I spent at Kyon's
bedside last December, waiting for him to wake up?  They didn't happen.
Traipsing around an empty mansion in a snowstorm?  That did.  We made a
movie, and without even realizing it, I turned those colored contacts
for Mikuru-chan into deadly laser beams and razor cutters.  It made me
feel like a bitch, honestly, knowing what I put everyone through.

"That only goes so far, Haruhi," Kyon assured me.  "You didn't know, and
we didn't tell you."

That's right; you guys didn't tell me because I gave you no reason to,
no reason to think I was anything but a dangerous, selfish little girl.
Even now, with what Asakura did, what Mori-san said to me, you guys just
have to do this, not knowing if I'd take it well or badly or what.

"You're a different person now," said Kyon.  "When we talked it over,
trying to figure out how to tell you, we all agreed--compared to the
girl we met at the beginning of last year, the Haruhi of today would
understand better why we've done what we've done, why we've kept things
to ourselves for so long."

That's what Kyon said, and the others clearly had followed his lead.
Through every story and explanation I heard that night, Kyon was at the
center of things.  The others went to him for help when they needed it,
and he relied on their powers, their expertise, to get through all the
weird events that swirled around me.  When he spoke, the others
listened, and they seldom explained or elaborated on what he said.  They
never contradicted him.  I may have been leader of the brigade, but Kyon
was in charge of something very different--an alliance, I guess, of
paranormal beings, all working to keep the world safe from something
more powerful than all of them.

But that wasn't why we'd gathered.  Kyon's purpose in telling me what I
was and what I could do was to protect me from the Entity that was both
Yuki and Asakura's master; from Mori-san, who worked with Koizumi-kun
but represented, in his words, "the element of our organization that
believes the worst about Suzumiya-san and felt the only way to ensure
the status quo was to frighten her into submission."

When the cafe staff started wiping down the tables and the neon sign in
front flickered out, Kyon finished the last of his cup and looked
squarely at me.  "Whatever those people try to do to you from now on,
Haruhi, remember this: they can't touch you.  They can't threaten you or
intimidate you or anything else.  You have the power to change what they
say even before it comes out of their mouths.  You have the power, as
Mori-san said, to erase someone whose intentions are a danger to you or
any of us in the brigade.  This is the power we've been reluctant to
give you--no, this is the power _I've_ been reluctant to give you, but
now you have it.  Use it sparingly.  Use it wisely.  Don't be afraid,
though."  He gestured to the others.  "None of us would be here if we
thought you couldn't handle it."

With that, we adjourned.  The SOS Brigade would still meet like always.
We five were spectacular people, but that didn't mean we couldn't hang
out after school and plan the search for other mysteries in this world.
In that, not much had changed.  I knew that well when Kyon took out his
wallet and started counting the bills need to pay.

"Kyon," I said, "what are you doing?"

"It's tradition, isn't it?"  He thumbed the bills between his fingers,
squinting.  "You know, this is what happened the first time.  We were at
that table over there, and I said, 'Haruhi, you won't believe this, but
it's the truth.  Asahina-san's a time-traveler, Koizumi an esper, Nagato
an alien.' "

That's right; I remember that day now, about a year ago.  I stormed out
because I thought Kyon was mocking me.  I thought no one would say such
things unless they meant to mock me because, well, it couldn't be true.
It wouldn't be so easy.

How stubborn a girl can be when she thinks the world is so dull a place
that nothing she wants will come true.  I didn't believe Kyon then.  I
didn't even give him a chance to explain.

I took the check with our total for the evening and pushed Kyon's money
across the table, into his lap.

"What's this?" he asked me.

It's payment with interest, you might say.  It's my gratitude to you
guys for being here, for being willing to explain and recount what's
happened--the bad along with the good.

I left a two-thousand-yen note on the table.  "Guys," I said, "thank
you."

+++

When I made it home that night, my father welcomed me back, not knowing
I'd even gone to Koshien, but word of what'd happened was already on the
news and the net.

"Sounds like something out of a science-fiction story," said Father,
reading the article on his laptop as he worked in the main room.
"People floating out of their seats, strange lights--oh, here, look.
There are even rumors about a girl walking away from the scene with a
piece of metal sticking through her body.  I think perhaps people have
had too much to drink at these games."

And only you'd still be working over your computer as it nears eleven
o'clock on a Saturday night, Father.  Your daughter was away all
afternoon.  Didn't you consider taking Mother out to dinner?

"Oh, no no, she's upstairs scribbling away at her notebook.  In that
way, your mother and I are very much alike.  We embrace our passions at
home.  When I left her earlier, she was babbling away about some
nine-tailed fox that offers naive little girls their greatest wishes in
exchange for contracts or some such.  I couldn't follow it.  If the
demon grants you any wish when you make a pact with it, why not make a
wish to change the system?"

That's exactly what happens in the end, Father.

"And if the trend of things is the same these days, it probably takes
all of a season of television for anyone to figure that out."  He shook
his head.  "This is why I stick to things that are eminently practical
and logical."

Are you arguing with people on the Internet about which text editor is
better again?

He pulled the laptop lid toward him, shielding the screen from me.  That
was fine.  We all have our weaknesses.  Me, I'd hid that Tigers cap
behind my back as soon as Father asked me about the game.  I snuck up to
my room tossed it aside, and it landed on my bed upside-down,
Mikuru-chan's initials plain as day.  The ink had bled into the fabric,
the borders broken and ill-defined.  I think Mikuru-chan and I got our
caps mixed up, maybe at the cafe.  Clearly, being turned into a spear to
stop Asakura hadn't done this hat any favors, but it was useful, in its
own way.  It told me I had unfinished business with someone.  Kyon
showed faith in me, telling me about John Smith and everything else.  He
and the others, despite their reservations, let me know about myself.
They didn't want me to feel threatened from Mori-san or Asakura, and
that's enough for me.

But not for them.  If not for Yuki saving the others from Asakura
today...

On my desk was the hundred-yen coin.  I took it in my hand.  I felt the
faces between my fingers--the contours of the metal, the reeded edge.
John Smith's faith in me was that I could use my powers wisely.

I won't let you down, Kyon.  And I won't let dangerous people like
Asakura or Mori-san threaten you, either.  The message has to be
sent--today, and not one day later.

I closed my fist over the coin and disappeared from sight.