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Chapter 1
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Glancing at the screen of my cell phone, I observe it to be-
"It's nearly six thirty, now." The female voice sleepily announces from right behind me. Draped in a green winter jacket that was too large for her smaller form, my doppelganger shuffled about to nestle her watch-arm back into the warm confines of the jacket pocket.
Yeah, yeah…thanks.
She mumbles something back in response, holding on through the jacket for dear life as the both of us continue on our journey in the brisk morning weather down the street. The constant clacking of the bike chain is driven by my constant pedaling, currently aiming the bicycle in the direction of an apartment complex about a block from our current position. I say "we" because there is a small girl riding on the otherwise empty basket space behind my seat.
I also say "we" because strangely enough, she is well…me…I don't know have a full way to explain it. It just feels that way. I mean, turning over in bed this morning, I guess you could say it was like looking into a funhouse mirror that displayed a distorted reflection of your self. Surely, you know that you don't look like that, but you know that it's still you somehow.
I hope you can understand that analogy…it took me a bit of thinking to mesh up something philosophical about a scientific impossibility that clashes against common sense. I'm not Koizumi, you know.
I don't feel like explaining the whole traumatizing experience either since frankly, it was really, really embarrassing for the both of us or, me…? Forget it.
So, long story short, after substantially testing each other's identities through a series of quizzes:
1) we found that our names were oddly exact (thanks mom and dad for choosing such an ambiguous given name for your first born child);
2) we noticed that though our timelines were very well in-synch up to this point, they were strikingly different in context because of our genders ("sexual equality", my ass)
3) Actually, everyone's gender seemed to be the polar opposite of what it was in this reality.
One of two very distinct common traits that we both had was that upon realizing a strange happening, it was quite obvious to think of a certain person who was related. What we couldn't figure out though was, whether our dear Suzumiya was directly or indirectly responsible for it.
One thing's for sure; we both immediately came up with the same idea of who to talk to first.
Speaking of which, we've just arrived in front of the glass doors of the building now. Parking my bike at the rack, we both walk up into the first floor lobby of the apartment, and I instantly buzz the room number of our mutual friend.
"…….." The click of the receiver answers the call.
"It's me."
It's all I have to say before the door is unlocked, enabling me and my doppelganger to head toward the elevator.
"Could you please use my name? How do you know that you're not my doppelganger, huh?"
Listen, my dimension, my reality, okay? If I ever find myself in your dimension, feel free to return the favor.
"Whatever…"
As she shakes her head at my response, we both arrive in front of the apartment door. It isn't much of a wait after I clack the door knocker nearby the eye-hole when it opens.
"…….."
Even this early in the morning, the small and inconspicuous girl looks very much the same as she would at noon or even midnight. Always dressed in the North High School uniform and not looking haggard from fatigue, she would very well be quite suited to quietly making her rounds as a janitor who protected the aristocrats and elites of ancient Rome.
Not budging from her spot that blocked the open space created by the half opened door, an entirety of a single blink is what it took for her to stare me down in as effective a manner as a Drill Instructor would take to berate marines at Parris Island.
I really hope she's not angry at me for disturbing her this early in the morning. "Hey there, Nagato." I offer in an attempt to break the uneasy silence.
"….enter." Her invitation was aimed toward my smaller counterpart with the smallest and near-impossible hint of irritation in her voice, as the host of this impromptu visitation slipped away to open the door further. Did I actually make her angry?
"Even aliens desire their beauty rest, you know…" that dastard doppelganger of mine yawned again, leading the expedition inward to the barren flat summit of this Mt. Nagato. In fact, it feels a bit colder as a chill creeps up my spine.
The large domicile that could very well be a single cell in an alien hive is very Spartan in furnishing. A single table where the existence of aliens and the very strangeness of Haruhi Suzumiya were revealed to me is just ahead, while a towering shelf full of books adorns an otherwise plain white wall. The apartment itself was large enough for a whole family and their family pet, but was reserved for a single book loving occupant.
Hearing the door close delightfully behind me, I see the still uniformed hostess coast right toward the girl who was more or less equal in terms of height.
"…come." She beckoned her ally in the fairer sex.
I guess it's safe to say you already know what's going on then?
"The Data Integration Thought Entity has been aware of Alternative Differential Counterparts throughout the entirety of its lifespan. However, direct contact had been deemed impossible and inter-dimensional communication has been a responsibility for the humanoid interfaces."
What? So that's what aliens call "sliders"? I didn't really understand the rest of what you said, but now that I think about it, you've been aware of other versions of yourself from previous timelines haven't you? That would mean you've been communicating with other Nagato's from different dimensions as well?
"……" The light haired bibliophile barely shook her head to my barrage of questions.
"In order to separate the cross-temporal link that would prevent the destabilization of the current time line, I was also required to separate the links that connected me to alternate universes as well."
I never knew you had separated yourself to that extent. I vividly remember when you did that, since I was trapped in that weird alternate timeline where there was no S.O.S. Brigade, and I ended up getting stabbed by that psycho Asakura. With your "separating", not only did we avoid your powers overloading the universe to a reset, it ultimately helped lead toward the more independent Nagato that stood before me now.
"Thanks for the nostalgia, Kyon. I really needed to remember that bastard Ryou hacking at me with that katana of his."
"…….." heading off to the room where Mikuru and I were once kept in a three year temporal stasis, the girls disappeared behind the sound of a locked door when I began to imagine that Nagato had an infinitesimal number of North High uniforms already prepared.
Maybe a sort of computer program that has an endless stack of clothes materialize within an encompassing white space. And when activated, it rushes in like a bullet train with North High uniforms would be on disply. Okay, I've been watching too many sci-fi movies lately…
"So, what do you think?"
I hadn't even heard the door open up again as the two girls' movements caught the corner of my eye.
The quiet girl stood quietly, as my Alternating Different What-chu-ma-call-it seemed much more comfortable and relieved to be dressed in the female North High uniform rather than a pair of my jogging pants and a polo shirt. Actually, she was basically sporting the exact same thing Nagato was, even the blue jacket.
But what…what's with that hair style? Somebody kill me now, I don't need these kinds of thoughts running in my head! Actually, forget that. I don't want a certain knife-happy girl to come back from Canada.
"What are you rambling on about? You should know that I like ponytails, remember?" she quaintly reminded me of my own preferences as though I had forgotten.
"…….." with a surprisingly empathetic mind that would make Mother Theresa proud, Nagato gave a timely interrupting step into this dizzyingly growing Freudian situation. "An anomaly had occurred as recently as a few hours ago, concerning your Counterpart breaching this reality for unknown reasons."
Or maybe it was just a coincidence this time.
Anyways, getting to school would have to be the priority now, since at least some of my questions at the moment have been answered. Even more pressing however, is how to deal with little Ms. Kyonko here.
At least this should be a bit more believable to Tsuryua-san than having Asahina-san's estranged twin sister drop in for a visit, right? I can't help but smirk, since my other self has already realized what I have in mind for her accomadations.
Unless you're willing to stay at Nagato's place, instead of a fabulous mansion? I glance to the once bespectacled girl in question to see what her opinion on the matter was. "…….."
"Maybe you can do some studies on her, try to figure out why my Alternate…person is here in the first place." I try suggesting.
She turned the aim of her glossy eyes and stared at her fashion-twin, not even blinking or probably even breathing for a short moment. The other girl is of course taken back for a moment, but it seems her experience with her own Nagato had her easily adjust with the alien's strange behavior.
With a single blink, the immovable statue seemed to have returned from her daydreaming. "The scan is complete."
As expected, unnecessarily fast. So, what's the diagnosis, Doctor Nagato?
"…….." Her glance turned against me now, which is more than enough for me to see that I'm not privy to know for unmentioned reasons at the moment.
Hmmm. I wonder if she would ever be willing to say "Classified Information"?
Author's Notes: Thank you, thank you for the readins!!
I just wonder what's up with the underlining function...why's it gotta be broke!?
Haven't been particularly up to date with my own fanfiction, whether writing or reading, since I've got so many other time wasters like online RPs and other personal stuff...like GTA IV...Anyways, Mr. CJ, your "Flipswitch" continues to amaze me on its original tone.
...legalities...
-The idea has been spurned from many sources, as well as contemplation of my own boredom/job searching stressed mind
-The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya is written by Nagaru Tanigawa
-Advertising other people's fanfiction is my own unprompted decision...hint hint