- Chapter 2: The Invitation

Lately, I've started to realize that all my fretting about Yuki and her ominous messages was really just my own apprehensions finding a convenient target to settle on, and I've also started to feel a kind of soothing familiarity with the fact that she really is just a friendly girl who makes a point of looking out for me.

I've also started to realize that there are these odd moments when it seems like a scene that has been rehearsed or like I'm finding myself saying things that weren't really originating from the real me. In the end, I would come to realize that these odd moments were just that. Odd moments. I think I have an attitude that encourages these things to happen, and it frequently gets me into those kind of situations that are a little jarring.

I learned recently that Yuki had been doing some renovations to her apartment, and after my initial shock wore off, I began helping her tone down her fixes. In fact, I think I'd have been happy with just some nice curtains over the main window. I realized that I'd been sitting with my back to the window without really noticing, but now I felt inclined to sit more normally.

As I entered her apartment, I braced myself for a shock and was pleasantly surprised that she had kept the bright and vivid colors to a minimum, this time. All the otaku-style features had now been replaced with a more traditional, sensible layout. I should mention that I have nothing against otakus, but I don't really relate to them either, especially after dealing with Haruhi (who has a lot of otaku tendencies).

"Hello," I said.

"Welcome," she answered, as I made my way to the table to sit across from her.

"Thanks," I said, looking around. "Okay, this looks a lot better. I think you may be getting the hang of this."

I should add at this point that the features combined in a way to create a kind of feeling of hushed anticipation. Thus, I began speaking a bit more softly than I would usually. I think she picked up on this and toned her voice down a notch or two from her normal amplitude.

"I removed those lighting fixtures that seemed to be bothering you," she flatly stated.

"You did?" I asked, only noticing because she pointed it out. "That's good."

I took another good, long look around. At this point, I think most people would be impressed by the feeling of purpose and practicality it conveyed.

"Yeah," I added, "this looks nice."

"You think so?" she asked, pouring me some tea.

I just then noticed that she had the teapot out, and I gratefully accepted the cup as she offered it. "Thanks," I said.

"I worked on the bedroom, as well," she added.

"Okay," I acknowledged, thinking about how bad that had looked before. I was very curious to see how far that had improved, but some feeling of caution flared up in me as I thought about it.

"I did some shopping," Yuki softly continued, "but I only found a few things on that list."

"That's fine," I said, approving while taking a sip. "This is a lot of progress for one week."

"Thank you," she said, still monotone.

I smiled and dismissed her thanks, "It's enough to know that you care about my opinion."

"I don't want you to feel uneasy," she explained.

"I could probably tolerate anything," I assured her, "but I am pretty picky about my personal preferences."

Having said that, I started to realize that this was exactly the kind of thing that I had imagined I would talk about with a girlfriend. Thinking of Yuki as a girlfriend was a bit of a shock, but I also realized that I wanted to think of her as a girlfriend.

As if reading my mind, she asked, "So, how was your week?"

"It was great," I replied. "Couldn't have been better."

"You didn't mind the extra work in addition to your studies?" she wondered.

I smiled and answered, "Unlike Miss Suzumiya, I came to my work well-prepared. I even earned a letter of commendation."

"Is that good?"

"It's better than the scolding Miss Suzumiya got."

As I sat there sipping my tea and wondering why Nagato was using such ordinary verbiage, it dawned on me that all this renovation had been my idea. I had just casually mentioned how she should fix the place up to better accommodate people like Miss Asahina or the occasional Suzumiya specter. I hadn't seriously thought that she would spend a Sunday actually attempting to follow my advice. I was at once filled with a small amount of pride at having been the one to suggest it and a bit more embarrassment that I was its primary beneficiary.

"So," I asked, "is there anything you want to do?" I very much hoped she would have a suggestion, because it was starting to get painful, how much I felt indebted to her.

"Are you going to the meeting tomorrow?" she asked flatly.

I quickly but casually warded away that thought. "I don't think so," I answered. "Nothing good will come of that, I'm sure."

"So," she concluded, "you will be free tomorrow evening at five?"

"Something you want to do then?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied, "there's a movie I'd like to see."

"That sounds good," I said. "It's been a while since I've seen a good movie. So, what's playing?"

"It's a period drama," she said.

"A samurai flick?"

"It's a highly metaphorical story set in a violent period of your history."

"Okay. Well, I was just curious. I don't recall ever seeing something like that in a theater."

"If it's okay, I'd like your opinion of my bedroom."

"Yeah..." I acknowledged her. "I think I'd better not."

"I've removed everything that could be offensive," she flatly stated.

"That's not what I'm worried about," I flatly stated.

Once again, the feeling of caution flared up in me, and I recognized that it was my own growing desire to fulfill whatever she was planning to task of me. I really didn't want to do something I would later regret.

"I guess," I explained, "what I'm trying to say is that I'm really impressed, but I don't know if I'm ready to be that impressed."

"You don't trust your own instincts?" she interpreted.

"Yeah," I answered, smiling. "You really have a way of clearly stating things."

"That's fine," she said. "Any time you change your mind, feel free to ask."

"Thanks," I softly replied. "I appreciate the invitation. And thanks again for the tea."

For several moments, I felt like getting up and leaving, but the feeling of invitation was still hanging in the air like a lingering smell of food. The design and arrangement of the room itself was fascinating me, and I had to admit that this improvement was puzzling.

"What happened here?" I wondered.

Yuki then looked at me with some bland expression of anticipation that I don't recall seeing before, which was a kind of an invitation in itself, so I collected my thoughts.

"I mean," I explained, "how was it so different before? You've never read about interior design?"

"It was not in my programming," she replied.

"So," I asked, "you didn't know about interior design?"

"That is not what I said," she plainly stated. "The collection of data you refer to is completely separate from my ability to deploy its usage."

As I pondered this mystery, I started to wonder what really made Nagato tick.

She seemed to sense what I was thinking, and she added, "This interface is programmed for all duties of data units, and has several layers of data filters and translators. The application of undefined transactions takes a certain reprogramming, and there are difficulties in its implementation."

I smiled and said, "Okay. I see." I pondered for a moment about how I should approach this subject, then asked, "So, by reprogramming, you mean you had to teach yourself how to decorate?"

"Correct," she acknowledged.

"I'm starting to understand," I said, thinking about all the odd behavior I had seen from her. This seemed to explain the odd variations in her word choices. What was really nagging at me for some time was that kiss on the cheek she had given me. I think now it started to dawn on me exactly how that had happened. I think Yuki herself has instincts, which her "programming" generally controls. Every now and then, she might feel prompted to unlearn those controls for one reason or another. Given a space for relearning, she would attempt it with varying levels of success.

In other words, she's basically no different from an ordinary human.