Haruhi Soap Opera - The Time Travel Volume

- x -

- Chapter 1: Gamma part 1

I'm uncomfortably conscious of my age, though I've been told many times that I talk like a grumpy old man. It's probably true, too. If you only heard the way I talk and didn't know a thing about my life or my circumstances, you'd probably guess that I was a jaded thirty-nine year old man, staring down the barrel of lifelong debt, ungrateful children, and a looming big four-oh to remind me how mortal I really am. You'd probably guess that Haruhi was one of the bratty children, and not my recently-confessed-to girlfriend. You'd also find it highly unlikely that I'm about the same age as her.

Nevertheless, I'm constantly reminded of my real age by the various quirks that I have, which I've been noticing now thanks to Haruhi pointing them out. I'm pretty lazy, self-absorbed, neglectful of others, and at least a little unpleasant to be around. Lately, I've also begun to notice an annoying habit that I have of having too much confidence in people that I'm simply attracted to. I can't blame this on Haruhi, either. I'm pretty sure I've had this habit for longer than I've known her. I've never thought of it as a life-threatening or world-threatening flaw, although events were about to transpire to show me how wrong that assumption was.

Those quirks aren't what I would call my "true" personality, any more than I would consider Haruhi's bratty nature to be her "true" personality. Getting to know her as well as I have over the past few days, I'm starting to realize that she really talks more like a forty year old woman, just starting to notice how fun life can be when you don't have a lot of responsibilities or weighty expectations, but somehow starting to get a little senile. It's understandable that we might fight a lot, but only in the strangely good-natured way of a loving thirty-nine and forty year old couple.

After about a week of this back-and-forth dramatics, I found myself having a pleasant conversation with Haruhi at my home in front of the television. There was a kind of anticipation in the air, but that was mostly because Haruhi was planning to spend the end of the week in Paris.

"You aren't picking another fight with me, are you?" she asked.

"Why would I do that?" I replied.

"Just checking," she said. "You seem to be in one of those moods again."

"Those moods?" I asked.

"You know," she answered, "where you get it in your head to start talking about otakus and stuff like that."

Haruhi really chafes at the notion of being called an otaku, though it's really pretty obvious that she is. But then, that's one of the chief signs that you really are an otaku. If you have a deep-seated disgust or hatred for perverts, chances are very good that you are one yourself.

"Just thinking about how I'm going to keep busy," I said, which was not even remotely true.

"Well, listen to you," she said. "When did you suddenly become a devotee of the work ethic?"

"Since I suddenly ran out of money over the course of a week," I answered, thinking of all the money I had and how quickly it got spent.

"Sorry," she said, which she didn't even remotely mean. "I guess it isn't easy playing 'my turn to run away' all the time. Maybe next time you won't start a stupid argument with me."

"I don't know what I was thinking," I said. "I think I'll stick to reading."

"That sounds like the Kyon I know," she added.

It then occurred to me that we were the only ones at home. My mother was still working the late shift, and my little sister was over at a friend's house, watching a movie. This seemed like a good opportunity to open the door for a little irresponsible fun. It helped that I was starting to realize that Haruhi wasn't as emotionally vulnerable as I had assumed last week.

"Let me ask you something," I said, "and it isn't about otakus."

"Sure," she answered.

"If you could do anything at all simply by talking about it, what would it be?"

"Whoa, really?"

"Yeah. Anything at all."

"I'd have to think about that. I mean, what more could I want?"

I then realized with some wry amusement that Haruhi really isn't as childish as I assumed.

"Well," I reminded her, "you did tell me once that you wanted to have an interesting life."

"What would you do?" she asked.

"Me?"

"Yeah. If you could do anything just by talking about it."

"Well..." I said, stopping to think for a moment. "I guess I'd start out with something simple, like the ability to bend spoons. That would be cool."

"That sounds kind of boring," she said.

"I mean," I added. "I'd start out simple and work my way up."

"Okay," she answered, "I guess that makes sense."

I should mention at this point that I wasn't trying to be clever or make some kind of witty aspersions. This was just the first thing that came to mind.

I said, "I wouldn't try it out on myself, though. No telling what kind of side effects there are to spoon bending. I think I'd try it out on someone else, first. You know, just to make sure it's safe."

"You are such a scaredy cat," she told me. "I'd just jump right in, myself."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'd go right into time traveling. What harm could there be in that?"

Only Haruhi could use reasoning like this. If she had said that I was wrong because, "after all, black is white," I wouldn't be surprised at that, either.

"Other than messing up the past?" I said.

"Oh, I'd mess up the past right away," she said, enthusiastically. "Wouldn't that be interesting?"

"Sounds kind of irresponsible."

"What's the big deal? So, you end up either not existing or you create a whole new world."

"Yeah, I think I'd have a problem with not existing."

"It's not like you'd know you stopped existing. Doesn't really sound that bad."

Honestly, it sounds worse than anything I had ever heard, but I also found it hard to think of a reason why.

"So, you wouldn't care if I stopped existing?" I asked her.

"Why would I?" she answered. "If you stopped existing, I'd have no memory of you."

"Of course," I added, "if I stopped existing, then I wouldn't have gone back in time in the first place."

"Yeah," she softly said, "that's what makes the idea so interesting."

Hearing Haruhi say all this in such detail, I was now pretty certain that I didn't need to worry at all about what was going to fill my free time. It's kind of convenient, in a way, to have this absurd foreshadowing to tell me how to prepare myself for the next big crazy thing that was certain to happen. I didn't truly appreciate how soon it would come, though.

"Are you sure you can't at least stay for dinner?" I asked her, wishing that I could at least get her to stay for five more minutes.

"No," she replied, "I've got to go, soon."

"Well, have fun."

"I'm surprised you aren't trying to do more to stop me."

"Why would I? It's a trip to Paris. You can't turn that down."

"Yeah, but with my dad. What could be less romantic?"

"But it's Paris. You'll be doing lots of touristy stuff, like seeing the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre..."

"I'll be in a hotel room most of the time, being bored."

"You could take a book with you."

"No thanks. I'll just take a stroll if I get really bored."

- x -

I was just thinking that Haruhi was probably well on her way to Paris when I looked up from my reading and noticed Yuki appear in my room.

"Whoa!" I said. "How did you get here?"

"Teleportation," she answered.

"Okay," I said. "Well, nice to see you again."

Yuki then looked at me in a strange way that seemed to suggest that she expected me to transform into a bat and fly away. I keep forgetting that she is an alien, and these little reminders help me stay aware of that.

I asked her, "Is teleportation like destroying yourself in one place and recreating yourself in another place?"

"That is incorrect," she replied. "Teleportation utilizes dimensional transfer to shift from one plane to another."

"Sounds complicated."

"It's computationally expensive."

"You can't just fly around like Koizumi?"

"I could, but then I wouldn't be able to evade my guardians."

I sometimes neglect to remember that Yuki has fellow alien humanoid interfaces that she sometimes calls her "chaperons," although I much prefer the term "guardians," myself. It basically means the same thing, but the connotation is something I'm much more comfortable with. I really hate to think of her as an emotionally vulnerable girl who needs her hand held all the time.

"Oh, right," I said.

She added, "The Data Integration Thought Entity does not usually organize data units in terms of hierarchy."

"Yeah," I said, "you operate more like a gang. I'm surprised at how sloppy your society is."

"Power structures are irrelevant when any one member can destroy others at will."

"That's actually not so different from a human family."

I like to think of her this way, anyway. It helps me to think of her as a person rather than an android with strange abilities.

"I'm glad you came back," I admitted.

"You said that affection is an acceptable condition," she reminded me.

"That's right," I said.

"I was skeptical of that input."

"Yeah, I sometimes doubt it myself."

"I was confused regarding the issue of shared affections and exclusion."

"What do you mean?"

"There was a question of severity."

I know I've said this before, but Yuki has a real talent for compressing a lot of meaning into as few words as possible. With that one short statement, she had said as much as a million poets over the course of their entire lives.

"So," I said, "is it okay between you and Haruhi?"

"I offered my apologies," she answered. "That situation seems to be resolved."

That situation had been something I had expected her to do for a long time, but she had apparently been saving it for a time when it was somehow both the most expected and the most shocking thing for her to say to Haruhi. It had made me feel both strangely satisfied and appalled.

"I missed you," I casually admitted. "I enjoy our conversations."

"Okay," she acknowledged.

"Any particular reason you stopped coming around?" I asked.

"After analysis of your observations," she replied, "I came to the conclusion that my outburst was the result of indignation. The condition had most likely been stimulated by our discussions."

"You really didn't remember what you said to Haruhi?"

"That data was unavailable, and I did not detect any reference data to indicate that it had been deleted. Did Haruhi Suzumiya cause that data to be destroyed?"

"No, it probably just happened naturally."

I know Haruhi didn't become offended. In fact, Haruhi started to realize that I wasn't the only one who might have an objection to her more abusive flights of fancy. I had guessed that Yuki wouldn't remember it at the time, and I was a little annoyed that Koizumi had agreed with me, saying that she would likely suffer from something called "selective amnesia." It was still a little surprising that she didn't actually remember it. Yuki has stated a number of times that she doesn't have a subconscious part of her mind. Either she was starting to develop one, or maybe shocking things like that simply get erased from the mind outright.

"In the future," she continued, "I hope to recognize the signs of that condition and forbid such outbursts."

To summarize, Yuki had vented at Haruhi because Haruhi was behaving like a rotten brat, and Yuki had probably been suffering from depression. Yuki had made a mistake, and she had corrected it. This may sound all very logical and robotic, but this actually tells me that Yuki is very much more human than she was a couple of weeks ago. I think Koizumi would say that a robot would only seek perfection, while a human being would seek to live in harmony, and I'd be forced to agree with that sentiment. Yuki may still be a perfectionist, but even she recognizes that there are limits to what she can handle.

"So, will you return tomorrow?" I asked.

"There is a possibility," she replied. "However, my duties will likely require me to remain on standby."

"Oh, because Haruhi will be in Paris?"

"No. If there is danger, it will be the temporal phenomenon involving you."

I guess I wasn't the only one to pick up on these hints that invariably turn into realities whenever Haruhi mentions them. I think Yuki would call it superstitious for me to say that, but it was nice to think that she apparently leaves the possibility that it's true open.

"Right," I said. "I completely forgot about that."

She then said, "'If you could do anything at all simply by talking about it, what would it be?'"

"You heard that?"

"My duties require it."

"Are you asking me that question?"

"Yes."

I was little mortified that my attempt to prompt something romantic had been noted and verified by Yuki as a source for something she might call a "data stability disturbance." I was grateful, however, that she turned that into a more conversationally-friendly interrogative statement.

"Let's see..." I answered. "I guess if I'm going to be serious, I'd say that I'd want Haruhi to believe in her true powers."

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied. "Is that wrong?"

As a comic book fan in my youth, I have to say that this really is my fondest wish. I mean, if I had powers like that, I would love to be conscious of them. It didn't occur to me that a beautiful girl like Haruhi would ever misuse her powers in a serious way, although that seems kind of odd to admit, now that I think about it.

"Whatever the possible outcome of such an event," Yuki answered, "it's not possible as long as she remains within your influence."

"No kidding?" I asked.

"No kidding," she replied.

"So," I concluded, "I can just tell her anything I want, and it won't matter?"

Yuki suddenly had a puzzled expression when I said that, and it occurred to me that she hadn't really thought through what she had said.

"That's actually kind of a relief," I added. "I've been worried that she might start to believe me."

"Is her belief what you truly want?" Yuki asked.

"Yeah, it is," I admitted. "I can't think of anything that would be better than that."

"I see," she answered.

"What?" I asked. "Can you do it?"

"I will consider it," she replied.

- x -

My own initiation into the big craziness of this incident began with a ringing alarm. I slowly realized that it was my alarm clock, seemingly mocking its own purpose by going off in the darkness like in a wintry morning in spite of the fact that it was the middle of spring. I fell to the floor, stubbed my toe, fumbled around toward the sound at my desk until finally finding the damn thing and switching it off.

"Oh man!" I said. "What the heck?"

I slowly returned to my bed and lay back down, just about to succumb to sleep when the nagging voice of my sense of responsibility reminded me that the coming day would be a Thursday, rather than a Sunday, and therefore not a time to indulge in unrestricted sleep.

"Damn it," I said, resolving to fix the errant clock and later give it a stern talking-to about waking people at the wrong time.

I got up again and turned on the light, immediately finding the switch by its familiarity, and blinking in the sudden brightness.

"Why the heck did I...?" I asked myself, suddenly thinking that the alarm going off incorrectly had been my own fault.

I then noticed a piece of paper next to the clock. It read, "Be careful."

"Be careful of what?" I asked it, but it remained stubbornly insistent in only giving me this vague warning.

I sat on my bed, and stretched for a few moments, yawning. I recognized the firm and robotic handwriting of the note and then started to realize that the warning had obviously been written by Yuki, so I surmised that the alarm had been changed by her to now. It was about ten after three in the morning, which I recognized as a time when Yuki sometimes enjoys visiting me, but because she was absent, only suggested something truly sinister was afoot.

"What on Earth is going on?" I complained.

As if in response, the older Mikuru Asahina then appeared in a brief flash of light.

"Oh, I see," I told myself, thinking that this was the event that Yuki had been anticipating. How she had known the exact time was unclear, though. Even now, I wonder about it, but then Yuki probably has more conscious awareness of this event than me and Mikuru put together. It wouldn't surprise me if I found out that Yuki had created this closed space in the first place. Of course, I didn't know it was a closed space until Mikuru told me.

"Oh!" Mikuru softly exclaimed, slowly realizing where she was.

I gestured a welcome to her, and she quickly calmed herself.

She softly added, "I didn't expect to land here."

"I should have known the temporal thing was going to be here," I stated.

"Were you expecting me?" she asked.

"So, are we going to travel to the past?" I continued.

She thought for a moment, but then had an odd look of recognition mixed with confusion.

"Well," she admitted, "I hadn't expected to be escorted, but I guess it would be for the best. You're much more familiar with this time period than I am."

"Maybe it would be better if I let you go alone," I suggested, thinking that if she had expected to go alone, then that would be better for everyone concerned.

"Yes, well..." she said, looking at the floor.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"I'm a little nervous," she admitted. "This is a pretty big opportunity. I don't want to mess it up."

"Is this about that time quake or whatever you called it?" I asked, thinking that there weren't many things that could drag the older Mikuru into this era other than that.

"Right," she said.

I'm not sure what a time quake is, but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with Haruhi. Given the timing involved, which had always struck me as an odd thing for a time quake to have, it would apparently coincide with a certain baseball game that had been played about four years ago.

"So, should I get dressed?" I asked. "I don't suppose I should walk around in my pajamas."

"Oh, right," she answered. "I'll look the other way while you get dressed."

Mikuru turned around and faced the door. I went to the closet.

"I guess I'll put on my uniform," I said, "or should I not do that?"

"I don't know," she answered. "Whatever you think is best."

"Okay, then," I said. "Uniform it is."

The convenient thing about wearing a school uniform is that it marks you as a participating member of society rather than some random delinquent who might be looking to cause trouble. People might wonder why you're not in school, but then they would just assume that your truancy is someone else's problem and look the other way. It didn't occur to me that I would be in the company of Mikuru, which was at least as good as wearing a uniform for making me seem less threatening and inconspicuous.

"I like you in your uniform," she softly admitted.

"You do, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah, it makes you look distinguished."

"I think it looks stupid. It's uncomfortable, too."

"Oh, I don't know. Don't you think it's kind of nice?"

"What?"

"To fit in so well, just from wearing an outfit?"

"Did you wear a uniform when you were younger?"

"I didn't get to until I came here to the past."

I then briefly wondered what was going on again, and had a thought that it was odd how my mother hadn't at least knocked at my door to ask about all the noise.

"So, what are we doing exactly?" I asked.

"We're currently in a closed space of some kind," she replied. "I don't know the details, but it's linked to the time quake from four years ago."

I briefly thought about what it might mean to be in a closed space, and then noticed my shoes sitting near the desk. I know people in less rainy climates usually have this habit of leaving their shoes wherever they feel like, but it was disconcerting for me to see them there rather than near the entrance. It made me realize that this closed space probably only permitted access to this room, and that made me grateful again that Yuki had prepared for this event. I hadn't realized at the time just how well-prepared she was.

"Linked?" I wondered, as I put on my shoes.

"We can bypass it to any time in the past we want," Mikuru explained, "but we're going to have to be quick about it. I mean, we'll need to leave right away."

"You can turn around again," I told her.

"Okay, thanks," she said.

I took out my umbrella and considered for a moment whether I should bring something else while Mikuru turned around again.

"Anything in particular we'll need?" I asked.

"We need to decide what time to travel to," she replied.

"How about twenty years ago?" I suggested.

"Why twenty?"

"It sounds like a nice round figure. Gives us plenty of time to really mess things up good in the present."

"I don't want to create a paradox. Okay, how about ten years?"

"I guess that'll be fine. Yeah, ten years should be good."

It seems weird to admit this now, but it really was just that casual a decision. I don't know whether the time fairy had waved a magic wand and made me think of a number and then made Mikuru think of a number, but it turned out to be a really crucial one.

"I hope we don't bump into anyone we know," she said.

"I hope we don't end up creating the time quake ourselves," I added, only half-serious.

Mikuru then had that odd look of recognition and confusion again, and it made me seriously reconsider whether I should be going with her.

"So, are we doing this or not?" I asked.

"Right," she answered with a strange resolve. "Let's go."

- x -

A moment later, I found myself at the side of a road going by a farm in the middle of a cloudy day. To call it an abrupt change of scenery would be an understatement, so it wasn't surprising that this particular leap in time felt longer than usual. The nearby hill looked familiar, but that was the only thing that looked familiar. At the time, I had a strange urge to find familiar things.

"Do you really not know anything about how the time quake got started?" I asked Mikuru.

"All I know is that it was connected to that closed space," she replied.

"So, if there's any clues, it's something related."

"Right. As long as we don't change anything, we should be able to find it."

"Wouldn't it make more sense to just jump to straight before the event?"

"I don't want to overlook something obvious and then not have time to deal with it."

"Oh, okay. That makes sense."

It still wasn't clear what we were looking for, but then I've never been too clear on how exactly Mikuru operates.

"I also wasn't sure what would happen," she admitted.

"You mean, you were worried that Koizumi was right?" I asked.

"No..." she lied. "Well..."

I began to think about this hill and how I normally always began my morning with a trek up it to the school. Out of habit, I began to walk up, and Mikuru followed.

"I wasn't worried at all that Koizumi might be right," I said. "I mean, the guy is a fruitcake. He may have some insights into Haruhi's true nature, but that's about it."

"Insights?" she said, puzzled.

"Yeah," I answered, "didn't you tell me?"

"Not that I recall..." she said, once again looking confused.

"Oh," I said, realizing that Mikuru is a time traveler. "Oops. I guess you don't always travel the same amount of time from the future."

"I really should obey the in-order policy, but it just isn't always possible."

"Anyway, I think Miss Nagato has the best theory on how Haruhi operates."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Aside from the fact that Yuki is strangely forthcoming in her odd explanations of things, there's the even stranger fact that her explanations have always matched up with my experiences. I've never seriously considered that she might not be completely correct about Haruhi, though it still strikes me as bizarre.

"I think between Koizumi and Miss Nagato," Mikuru admitted, "I'd prefer Koizumi's ideas."

"Wow, really?" I asked.

"I don't really believe Koizumi," she answered, "and I really don't trust him or his organization, but I think I would trust him over Miss Nagato."

I sighed and softly admitted, "That's a really tough pill to swallow."

"You have a preference for Miss Nagato's ideas?" she asked.

"Not in general," I replied, "but about Haruhi she makes a lot of sense. When it comes to Koizumi... Well, his notions of the world start out weird and just get weirder."

"You don't trust him?"

"No. He didn't make a good first impression. The first thing he started talking about was how the world was just a dream of Haruhi's. As if that wasn't bizarre enough, he started talking about the 'Anthropic Principle' and how we all just happened to make a world that suited her."

To merely call Koizumi superstitious would be generous. The fact that even an idiot like me can see through him made what Mikuru was admitting alarming, to say the least.

"I see," she said. "Yeah, this is exactly why I don't trust him, either."

"For a guy who's supposedly so well-educated," I added, "he spouts a lot of irrational nonsense."

"It doesn't surprise me," Mikuru said. "You know how often Miss Suzumiya contradicts herself?"

"Yeah," I answered.

"Well," Mikuru cheerfully explained, "she also just happened to invent the concept behind the TPDD."

The fact that Haruhi could foolishly blunder into discovering secrets of the universe didn't at all surprise me, though it only seemed to confirm my suspicion that there's a kind of amusing but cruel irony at work in all things.

"Isn't that something else?" Mikuru asked.

"Anyway," I said, quickly switching the topic back, "you can kind of understand why I prefer Miss Nagato's version. To her, Haruhi can simply defy the laws of conservation with some unknown ability. As a skeptic, I have to say that it's a much better approach to understanding her."

"So," she concluded, "it's a choice between riding the wind and watching dust blow?"

"What?"

"That's an old saying. Well, in my time it is. The point is, I see Koizumi as someone who rides on Miss Suzumiya's power and Miss Nagato as someone who studies Miss Suzumiya's power. I don't really think either of them has the more complete perspective, although you have to admit that someone who rides the wind probably understands it better."

Leave it to Mikuru to find her preferences in romantic notions of what might look better to an artist. As much as I like Mikuru, she does have a predictable weakness for the aesthetic.

I told her, "I think the old saying that applies is, 'When the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to treat everything like a nail.'"

She laughed and admitted, "You may be right."

"Of course, I am," I insisted. "I mean, here we are. This isn't a dream, is it?"

"No," she answered. "This is real."

"And Koizumi said that Haruhi had destroyed and recreated the world," I added. "I'm looking around, and I'm not seeing a destroyed world, here."

I'm not completely sure he actually said that, but it sounded like the kind of thing he would say. I'm pretty sure if I asked him about how a time quake might appear, he would say something like that.

"I think the world is getting ready to get wet," Mikuru abruptly added.

I then noticed that rain was starting to fall, and I took out the umbrella.

"Good thing I thought to bring this."

"Yeah."

- x -

To my disappointment, there was no school, but only some patches of trees that dotted an otherwise grassy hill. The rain was pouring, so I couldn't really make out anything else.

"So," I concluded, "you weren't really raised by your parents?"

"No," Mikuru admitted. "They are affectionate, but they just didn't have the time."

"That's really strange," I said. "Did you come from a wealthy family?"

"I don't know about that," she shyly admitted.

It was rather weird that Mikuru would be embarrassed to be from a wealthy family. If I were from a wealthy family, I think I might be proud of it, though I have to admit that I have no idea why that should inspire pride.

"Oh, hey," Mikuru said, quickly changing the subject. "It's a bus stop."

When we reached the top of the hill, we saw a crossroads and one of those old style covered bus stops. Upon reaching the bus stop, we saw a woman sitting at a bench with a little girl nearby. Mikuru went under the cover and I followed, closing and shaking out my umbrella.

"Hello," Mikuru said to the woman.

"Hello," the woman answered.

"Hello," I said to her.

She turned to me and greeted me. "Hello, young man. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," I added.

The woman and the girl seemed oddly normal in every respect. It was comforting, to think that I might bump into some random nobodies with whom I could relate, even ten years in the past.

"So, are you two lovers?" she asked me.

I smiled for a moment and answered, "No. She's my older sister."

"Older sister?" she said. "Oh, yeah. She does look like the older one, now that I really look."

"Is that your daughter?"

"Yeah, this is my little angel."

"Is she a handful?"

"Not at all. She hardly says a word, really."

"Really?"

Here was something delightfully unusual. I'd never heard of such a child in my life.

"She's extremely well-behaved," the woman added. "Everyone tells me how they wish they had a daughter like her."

"Must be fun," I said, thinking of my own mother.

"Oh, you don't even know," the woman agreed. "I'm a really lousy mother, but I can still somehow get stuff done and take care of her."

"That is unusual," I admitted. "She's a really special little girl."

The woman was probably sick of hearing that, but she just smiled and looked affectionately at her daughter. She then looked back at me, taking notice of my clothes.

"So, are you a high school student?" she asked.

"Yeah," I answered.

"What school do you attend?"

"North High."

"North? Never heard of it."

"Yeah, I'm not from around here."

"Is your sister a student?"

"No, she's an office worker. I think she does something like Public Relations."

"Oh, okay."

Somehow, it occurred to me then that I should really cherish life and be very grateful for all the little things that go into it. I was inspired to feel very fatherly in this type of situation, as well.

"Kids are really fragile, emotionally," I said. "You have to be careful looking after them."

"I am," the woman told me. "I don't let this girl out of my sight."

"That's good," I casually added. "There's this girl in my class who's a total spaz, but she still manages to cope. I think it's because she had a good childhood. It's really important to have that foundation."

"Yeah, I agree."

"There's this guy I know, I don't think his parents did a good job raising him. He's still a nice polite guy, he gets good grades, and he's really popular. I don't think he's all that happy, though. You see what I mean?"

"Yeah. That sounds about right. Did your parents raise you well?"

"Well, sort of. My mother did a good job. I can't really complain."

"How about your sister?"

I had an odd moment there, wondering why Mikuru had suddenly gone quiet. It inspired me to make some honest observations.

"I think she turned out all right," I replied. "I can't really say, since we're not that close in age. She's really shy."

"I'm not shy," Mikuru softly stated, her mannerisms contradicting her words.

A bus then pulled up and the doors opened. The woman stood and took the girl's hand.

"Thanks," she told me. "I really appreciate all the encouragement. I was feeling pretty down just now."

"You're welcome," I said, casually dismissing her thanks.

"Were you waiting for the bus?" she asked.

"No," I replied.

"But you did say you don't live around here."

"It's fine. I can walk home."

"Oh, you don't have any money?"

"Flat broke. Don't worry about it, that's okay."

"But you'll need to have money."

"Really. I'm fine."

I would be fine with staying here, even if I had a wallet full of money. It's not like I was going to use it.

"Okay," she said. "Goodbye."

The woman and the girl then got on the bus, and the bus pulled away. I then went and sat at the bench.

"How did you know I worked in Public Relations?" Mikuru asked.

"You do?" I said.

"Yeah."

"Huh. I didn't know. That was just the first thing that popped into my head."

"You really don't have any money?"

"Like I said, I'm flat broke. Plus, I don't know whether my money would be any good in this time period."

"Money is no problem. I have major denominations from earlier this decade."

"Old money?"

"Yeah, older money is pretty standard for a mission to the past."

"I guess that makes sense."

You obviously wouldn't want to try using money minted in the future. That might get you in serious trouble.

"Do you really not have any money?" she asked.

"I don't think so," I answered.

I took out my wallet, then reached into my pockets to see if I had anything. To my surprise, I did find some paper in my front pocket.

"Weird," I said, taking out the paper, and discovering some writing on it.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Another note from Miss Nagato," I replied. "One note from before just said to be careful. This is..."

Mikuru didn't seem to want to hear what it said, but I like to have witnesses whenever I get strange messages in strange circumstances. It would be bad if I forgot what this note said, I think, so that made me all the more willing to read it aloud.

"'It's important that you permit the temporal anomaly. Do not become confused. I apologize for misleading you.'"

Mikuru then asked, "Should I really be hearing this?"

I answered, "It's okay. This is just something she wanted to get off her chest, I think. 'Haruhi Suzumiya was disappointed because she had become desperate for your affection and grieved at the suggestion that you had felt betrayed by your mother. She projected her own inability to consider your data onto you, and became tormented from anticipated derision.'"

"Good heavens..." Mikuru interjected.

I sighed and admitted, "I really had no idea. God, maybe I am oblivious. 'Please do your best. I look forward to our next encounter.'"

"I think you just doubled the number of words I've heard her use in my life," she added. "Is she always like that with you?"

Mikuru was probably dramatically overstating the case, caught up in the melodrama of the letter itself. It had been a somewhat wordy letter though, by Yuki's standards.

"I think this is about as forthcoming as she's ever been," I replied. "She must be really worried."

The letter then disintegrated in my hands.

"That's convenient," I said. "One less thing to worry about."

- x -

When we walked toward town, I began to notice a strange resolve in Mikuru's voice and in the way she was walking. I thought it was because of the letter and this mystery of why the time quake occurred, but I wonder about that now. The more I think about it, the more I realize that this was more like a grim march toward something she considered inevitable but she wasn't sure why. I noticed the change in her pace because I was holding the umbrella and trying to keep rain off of us both.

"Did things work out between you two?" she asked.

"Between who?" I replied.

"I mean, between you and Miss Suzumiya," she said.

"Oh," I answered. "Yeah, things worked out. I have to admit, it was mainly because of you, although it's still in the future for you."

"This is why the in-order policy exists," she explained. "These little memory mismatches can cause all kinds of paradoxes."

This reminded me of what Haruhi and I had talked about, just a little earlier.

"Does a paradox cause something weird?" I asked. "Like a whole new world suddenly appears?"

"I really don't know," she replied. "In theory, what happens is you open up a new time plane. I've never really seen it happen, myself."

I smiled and said, "Really? I would have thought..."

"You think I would risk it?"

"This is something Koizumi would love to talk about."

"Yeah, there's a lot of interest in long-term paradoxes and time planes, but I doubt anyone wants to create more."

"I have to admit I'm kind of curious, especially after Miss Nagato warned us to permit the impending anomaly, whatever that is."

Mikuru seemed a little irritated at this turn in the conversation, and the tone got a little more serious.

"You really know how to complicate things," she said. "I guess I'd better ask, or I'll risk creating a paradox myself."

"About what?" I asked.

"About what I did to help you work things out with Miss Suzumiya."

"You showed me the potential future."

"That's it?"

I seriously thought for a few moments about what had happened, then decided to elaborate.

I said, "Well, I guess the exact timing is a bit of an issue. I had just finished hearing Miss Nagato confess about a fight she'd started. Things were starting to get complicated because of that."

"I see," Mikuru said. "That explains why I didn't know about it. This was something Miss Nagato had been hiding from Miss Suzumiya."

"You have some kind of inside information?" I asked her.

"Yeah..." she admitted, hesitantly. "I got a hold of the unedited version of her diary."

I laughed and remarked, "That must be a heck of an interesting book."

"I have to admit, it is," she said, "but I don't think you'd want to read it."

"Why? Does she trash-talk me a lot?"

"Well, it's more in the way that she writes. I think you'd just be disgusted by it."

"Really?"

"How to put it...? I guess I'd have to say that she writes like she wants to be wondered at, rather than understood."

"Oh. I already knew that."

"So, you've read her diary?"

"Just the first twenty pages."