Origins of Haruhi - Interminable Eight
- x -
- Foreword
Since this story is a little longer than usual, I'll dispense with the usual analysis and just let you get right into it. First, however, I'd like to point out that this story paints a picture with a very broad brush. Each particular chapter covers five moments in time, and those moments are like the turning points in this story. It puts me into a sentimental mood, so it's probably just as well that I'm not doing an in-depth analysis. As for questions you probably have that this story doesn't answer: I can only say that I'm in the same boat as you. As satisfying as this story is, it leaves me with a lot more questions than answers, but then that's true of my life, too.
- x -
- Chapter 1: The Millennium
Friday, March 19, 1999.
Long before I'd ever heard the name Haruhi Suzumiya, I had become fascinated by the human mind. My studies weren't altogether thorough, but the subject was already familiar. I didn't anticipate that my studies would lead me on a path that included having a knife stuck in my guts, but it's not really all that surprising to me, considering how I had gotten started down that path.
Before I recount that particular story, I'd like to skip ahead a bit to the interesting part of my life that didn't include a strange trip through time. I think it's important that you know the others involved. I didn't really recollect that earlier incident in detail until much later. And, as Haruhi would say, the story is much more interesting this way.
Who I am is unimportant. I'm just a guy who snuck into his aunt's bedroom and used her computer without her permission. That was my first mistake. My second was finding a forum on strange phenomena and briefly mentioning that I had had a brief encounter with a time traveler. That had spurred some private messages, many of them just polite encouragements, many of them briefly skeptical in some rude way.
One private message caught my eye, though. It was from someone who took me oddly seriously, and I suspected that it was some kind of internet stalker. I questioned this person at length about various details, and discovered that she had been involved in that situation. In fact, she had turned out to be an object of some seriously wild speculation that I had forgotten up to that point. She was an innocent bystander, but she could recall enough details to convince me that there was something more than merely perverse curiosity in her motives.
She was especially impressed by the fact that I could surmise her real name, so she set up a meeting with me at a coffee shop. We had settled on noon of that day, since it worked out well, though probably it was a little more convenient for me.
As I sat at a table waiting, I immediately noticed when Haruhi entered, having pictured in my mind what she might look like. It wasn't hard. She was about my age, and possessed a distinctive attractiveness that would have been hard to miss. I became a little too excited and called out to her, "Hey! Over here!"
She immediately turned and said, "Sheesh. Keep it down."
"Just making sure you noticed," I explained.
"I ain't deaf," she complained, sitting across from me.
"Anyway," I added, "it isn't like there's someone listening."
"There could be," she warned.
She struck me as oddly casual for someone apparently so stuck up. That was just my first impression. The impression made me wonder about her.
"What?" I asked. "Are you paranoid?"
She answered, "Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get me."
I briefly wondered who it was she was referring to, but then she scowled at me.
"That was a joke," she said.
"Oh," I said, slowly realizing where the attempted humor had been.
I then took a moment to order us some drinks.
She asked, "So, are you new in town?"
"I'm here visiting my aunt," I answered. "I'm not moving here for another week."
"Don't you have a graduation ceremony at your school?"
"I've already been. And anyway, I'm still only in fifth grade."
"I got a crummy ceremony to go to next week."
"That sucks."
"Can you pay? I mean, for a few drinks?"
"Don't worry about it. My mom thinks I went to the mall."
My mother was busy, shopping for furniture and miscellaneous items for apartment living. It wouldn't take her very long, but I figured I could mess around until early afternoon. She would somehow know, though. Mothers always find out when you're up to no good.
"Yeah," I added, "I probably will get scolded later. I'm used to it."
"Did you really...?" Haruhi started to ask.
"I recognized you just now," I answered. "For me, it was only a couple years ago."
"That's weird," she remarked.
"You're telling me?" I said.
"I didn't recognize you," she answered.
"Well, duh," I explained. "I mean, you saw two of me and that girl, right?"
She thought for a moment and answered, "It really seemed to me like a woman and her three kids, but..."
"Yeah," I said. "One of the kids looked a little too much like her mother, right?"
"Yeah," she answered.
"There you go," I said, taking a sip of my freshly-arrived drink.
"But why?" she asked.
I thought about it for a moment, then answered, "We were there to stop the other two. They'd gone to the wrong time."
"And that guy was an older version of you?" she asked. "Who was the girl?"
"I can't tell you that," I replied.
"Why not?" she asked.
"It's a secret," I answered. "I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone."
"You've gotta be kidding me," she muttered.
I added, "I really shouldn't be telling you this much, but I figured it wouldn't hurt anybody."
It seemed strangely right at the time to being telling her this. It wasn't so much that she deserved to know or that she had a right to know as much as the fact that this was simply a strange part of her life, and it is pretty cool that she could share in some of the mystery of it. It was a very small event, and merely being a witness wouldn't really change anything. Or so I thought.
"So," she added, "that girl is a time traveler..."
"Yeah," I said. "That was probably the last time we'll see them, though. I can't imagine time travelers like to make their presence known."
She sighed and softly complained, "Dang it."
"But that is pretty cool, right?" I asked.
"I just wish I could be sure," she said.
"I'm pretty sure it really happened," I remarked. "It's just too bad you have such a crummy memory."
"It didn't seem important at the time," she explained.
I softly admitted, "No, I guess it wouldn't have."
- x -
Saturday, July 10, 1999.
My little sister was starting elementary that year, so there was that one year when we went to school together. It seemed like I had just gotten used to the idea of going to a nice school and helping take care of sister when Haruhi began to look me up. She started calling me at home over the course of a month, and then she proposed to come over for a visit.
I hadn't seen her place, but I knew it was on another side of town. It seemed a little crazy to want to go so far out of your way just for a visit, so I wasn't sure what to expect.
When she appeared at the door, I mentioned, "I didn't expect you to actually come over."
"So, this is where you live?" she asked.
I then went to the living room, and she followed.
"Yeah," I answered, "but it's just till my dad can find a job."
"Is he around?" she asked.
"No."
"Are you alone, here?"
"You must have just missed my mom. She took little sister shopping with her."
I went to the sofa in front of the TV, and lounged there. The living room was really just one corner of the apartment. The sofa was next to a sliding glass door that opened onto a small balcony, so we had a nice cooling breeze. We didn't have the otherwise obligatory chimes because my mother learned the hard way a few years ago that I had liked to collect chimes. I would hide them away, squirrel like, and my mother would puzzle for hours why. I could never figure it out, myself.
"I don't know," I told her. "There's not that much to do. I've just been watching TV."
"Baseball?" she asked.
"I can change it, if you want," I answered.
She then asked, "Your dad's unemployed?"
"No," I replied, "he just doesn't like the idea of moving here."
"I thought you said he worked in a garage," she recalled.
"He does," I explained. "He just works in a garage in a small seaside village. He said he doesn't really like the 'big city' and all that."
"Oh, I see," she said, sitting at the sofa next to me.
My mother was familiar with the area, and she seemed to like working here, so it was no big deal for us to be living here. It just seemed a little weird to be living in an apartment, even if it was just for a year or two. I had always lived in a small town up till this point, and the newness of living in a suburb was only starting to wear off, then.
"I hate baseball," Haruhi complained.
"Yeah," I agreed. "Baseball is boring."
She then added, "I mean, I hate thinking about it. Baseball is fun."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You're in sixth grade, right?" she asked.
"Yeah," I replied, only a little annoyed to not get an answer to my question.
She then asked, "You have a middle school you're going to?"
"Not yet," I replied. "Why?"
She answered, "My parents are sending me to East."
"Oh, okay," I said, though I'd had no clue where that school was.
She then smoothly asked, "You realize we're still in grade school at the turn of the millennium?"
"Yeah," I answered. "So?"
"Doesn't it seem weird?" she asked.
"It's just another year," I answered. "And anyway, the millennium doesn't technically start until 2001. This next year is just the first year in eighteen-hundred years that will start with a two. Going by the Gregorian calendar, that is."
She folded her arms and complained, "You really know how to spoil the fun in things, don't you?"
"You sure you aren't describing yourself?" I asked.
"You sure you're really a kid?" she asked.
"You are describing yourself, aren't you?"
"You're a trouble maker, you know?"
"Me?"
"You're the one hanging around with a time traveler, getting in adventures."
"That was just one time."
"Right."
"It's true."
I sat up, starting to wonder where all this doubt was coming from.
She then asked, "Why would a time traveler be hanging around with you, anyway?"
"Heck if I know," I admitted.
"You're some kind of ancestor of hers?" she asked.
"I doubt that," I answered.
She then flatly asked, "What aren't you telling me? You promised to keep stuff secret."
"Yeah, I did," I smoothly answered. "And that's why I'm not telling you."
"I'll bet you don't have anything else," she prompted.
"Suit yourself," I said.
"I'll drag that name out of you, one day," she softly predicted.
"Keep dreaming," I said, close to laughing.
- x -
Thursday, May 4, 2000.
The rest of that year was much the same as every other year I had encountered in my life. I can't even say that my trip through time had been all that strange, but the thing I began to notice lately was how strange Haruhi was. Or rather, I should say that she has a strange attitude toward everything. I had this weird feeling that (although she's an only-child) she has this invisible older sister. I began to picture in my mind what that sister might be like: a charming, level-headed angel who was generally liked and admired by all those around her. It went a long way toward explaining Haruhi, but that was mainly because I had become mystified by birth-rank psychology at the time.
Meanwhile, I had begun my middle school life with very little fanfare. It seemed much the same as elementary school, just with a uniform. Actually, if I had to pick a favorite year, it would probably be this one. It had nothing to do with the millennium. It just seemed to me that school was finally starting to take seriously my need for some explanations about how things worked and why they worked the way they did. Why do adults hide this information when you're in elementary school? Who knows? I was just barely young enough to really appreciate it, and just barely old enough to qualify for those doors to finally open, though. And it was a very good feeling. I spent most of my time in the local library.
Meanwhile, Haruhi had spent all her time trying to one-up her invisible sister with strange pranks, though I recall one particular incident had shown that she could exhibit a small degree of lucidity, even in the midst of her weird explorations. It was late one evening on the roof of that apartment where I still lived. She had hauled over a telescope, and she was scanning the sky in what seemed like a random pattern.
"Jeez," she complained. "There's just nothing."
"What's that?" I asked, pointing in roughly the same direction she was looking.
"In Canis Minor?" she answered. "That's Procyon."
"No," I said, "I mean that blinking light."
"Oh," she said. "Looks like a jet."
Haruhi was an interesting test case. My ideas of how the mind worked were always severely tested by the things I observed in her, and I had long since worked up a profile on her. Aside from my foray into modified birth-rank, I began to get the impression that she had been dazzled by too much television as a child. In particular, I could see signs of the effects of having watched too much X-Files and Star Trek. What was disturbing was not so much that her mother would let her watch garbage like that, as much as the fact that she apparently absorbed it like a sponge.
I remarked, "It's probably a little too early to see a UFO."
"I'm not looking for UFOs," she responded. "Yet."
"What are you looking for?" I asked.
"Something," she answered. "Anything."
"You spot one of the planets?" I asked.
"The planets?" she asked, turning to look at me briefly. "No, the planets were up with the sun, remember?"
"What?" I asked, drawing a blank.
"Don't you know what today is?" she asked.
"Was there supposed to be something special about today?" I asked.
She sighed and said, "Never mind."
"Was today some weird planet day?" I asked, vaguely recalling something about Mars and Venus on the news, but not really listening at the time.
She answered, "There aren't any planets out right now. Well, there's Pluto in the East, but that's..."
"What's that?" I asked, pointing at the brightest star I could see.
"That's Arcturus in Bootes," she smoothly answered.
"Okay..." I said, looking around. "What's that?"
"That's Spica in Virgo," she replied.
"Hmm... Okay, how about that?"
"You mean in Leo? That's Regulus."
"You sure know a lot about astronomy."
"This sucks."
I didn't think we'd see spaceships or floating lights or whatever it was that Haruhi expected to see. I was starting to get lost in it all, when a gust of wind came along and reminded me where I was.
"It's starting to get cold," I complained, blowing on my hands to warm them.
"You never studied astronomy?" she asked.
"Have I ever told you that I hate heights?" I asked.
"We aren't up that high," she commented.
"High enough," I remarked.
Ordinarily, Haruhi was inclined to do something crazy like waving flashlights at the sky or shooting off firecrackers for no apparent reason. In this particular incident, it seemed like Haruhi was taking a more passive approach. It seemed to me like she was possibly calming to a more ordinary state, but I later realized that she was simply swinging from one extreme to the other like someone suffering from bipolar disorder.
"What are they waiting for?" she complained. "Jeez."
"Who?" I asked.
"The aliens," she answered, as if she were speaking of a group of friends. "I thought they should have been here for sure, by now."
"Aliens?" I said, not willing to believe she had actually said that.
"Yeah," she said.
"You expected aliens to show up?" I asked, not sure I was wanting to know the answer.
"Would have been nice for a start," she added. "This is so unfair. You get to travel through time, and I don't see a single alien."
I thought about it for a moment, but it just made no sense. Much as I like the law of conservation, I don't think it applies to every conceivable situation. I admitted, "Somehow, I doubt the universe works the way you're thinking."
"You don't believe in aliens?" she asked.
"I think there probably are aliens," I answered. "Somewhere in the universe, that is."
She then asked, "Wouldn't it make sense for them to be somewhere nearby, though?"
"How do you figure?" I asked.
She replied, "Well, a civilization wouldn't live anywhere but a planet, right?"
"I guess so," I answered.
She continued, "And you can't have planets in the middle of nowhere. I don't think you'd have planets in the middle of a galaxy. That just leaves the arms. Systems that are hospitable to life would almost have to be in a sparse part of a galaxy."
"Okay," I conceded. "So, maybe there's aliens on the other side of the galaxy."
"Sheesh," she complained.
"It isn't just space, you know?" I said. "There's also time to consider."
Assuming time was a factor, of course. I thought for a moment about the implications of time travel, but then I dismissed that thought. Time travel could never usefully serve a purpose for anything other than observation. Adventures in time travel were the exception, even among acknowledged time travelers. And I happened to know with a good measure of certainty that that was true.
I then continued, "For all we know, there may have been a billion civilizations that have come and gone. Maybe, at one time, the galaxy was full of aliens, and now they're all gone. Maybe we're the last. Or maybe we're the first."
"This is so depressing," she softly remarked.
For a long moment, she just stood and stared up at space, as if she were a mother who was exhausted trying to cope with an unruly child.
"I'm just going to have to face it," she said. "There's nothing special going on at all. I'm wasting my time."
Haruhi had always seemed a little manic to me, so to see her in this state was a little disconcerting. I think I pitied her a little, and I had this strange idea that I could outwit fate. With that in mind, I settled on one particular possibility.
"Do you know who Michael Jackson is?" I asked her.
"Who?" she asked.
"You seriously don't know?" I asked, wondering how she had avoided even a casual familiarity.
"Why?" she asked. "Is he an alien?"
"You've never heard his music?" I asked. "He's really popular, you know. Like, insanely popular."
"Oh," she said, "is he some kind of rap star? I'm not into that type of music."
I then hinted, "You ever hear the phrase 'the prince of pop?'"
"Pop?" she asked.
"Yeah, pop music," I said. "I love that stuff. Especially Michael Jackson."
"Okay," she said, sounding a little confused.
"Yeah," I said, enthusiastically.
"Why are you bringing this up?" she asked.
"It's nothing," I answered. "Forget about it."
- x -
Wednesday, May 31, 2000.
A few weeks later, I had begun reading in earnest some of the more interesting essays on psychology, though on this particular afternoon, I have to admit I was reading a comic book. This particular comic was about a time traveler, oddly enough, and I found myself recognizing Mikuru Asahina when I glanced up from it at one point.
I had forgotten how damned beautiful she was, and I was a little eager to get her attention, though I merely waved to her. She smiled and came over to my table.
"Hello," she greeted me.
"Hey," I answered. "Didn't think I'd see you again."
"Again?" she asked.
I guessed, "You aren't Asahina number four, I take it."
"I have no idea what you just said," she softly admitted.
She sat across from me, her stunning face and soft voice so close that I felt like I was being smothered by sweetness.
"So, I was right," she said. "You really did go back in time. I mean, the older you."
"Not just me number seven," I informed her, "but me number eight. You know? The one you're talking to right now."
"This is so weird," she remarked.
"So, which one are you?" I asked.
"I guess you'd call me number seven," she answered.
"You like books?" I asked, suddenly wondering what she was doing in a library.
"I've read enough," she answered.
"You read anything I've written?" I asked.
"That's classified," she smoothly replied.
"Haven't heard that in a while," I said, taking her answer as an implicit affirmative.
"Oh, jeez," she complained.
I added, "Though the older you was pretty open with me. It was just number four who'd say that a lot."
She grimaced and said, "I hope you haven't been talking about me."
"Don't worry," I assured her. "I haven't even told anyone your name."
"Thank goodness," she said.
Girls grow up pretty fast, so I wasn't sure, but it seemed to me that this Mikuru Asahina was about the same age as me. I doubted it made much of a difference, but it was a nice thought.
I then asked, "You learned about me because of that incident with Koizumi?"
"That's classified," she responded.
"Because, you know..." I said. "If anyone is to blame for that dimensional stuff, it's probably at least a little his fault."
"I shouldn't..." she started, then stopped herself.
It occurred to me that this wasn't the right person to be making excuses to. I then briefly thought about that situation. A few things were still bothering me.
"Is there still a time quake?" I asked.
"That's..." she started to say, then said, "Yeah. I'm not sure what the deal is with that."
"Well, at least that's not classified," I said, somewhat thankfully.
She added, "There's a lot I can't talk about, but I have no idea what that is."
"That was weird," I said.
She then prompted, "I was curious about what happened to you."
"After that incident?" I asked.
"Yeah," she answered.
"I went home," I told her. "I got in a little trouble, especially when they found out about the money."
"Money?"
"Yeah. I had money for bus fare, and my mom suddenly wondered where it came from. I couldn't very well tell her that my older self had asked a time traveler for some money."
"Jeez."
"I did the obvious thing and told them I'd found it. I was lucky that I was able to get home at all."
"You're very mature for your age."
"I know. That's exactly what the older you told me."
With that sorted out, it felt like catching up with an old friend, though this was really the first time we'd met. It made me want to write an essay on the psychological dangers of time travel, though I had the impression that such an essay was probably not a wise idea in the current climate. Given that Asahina was prone to saying "that's classified," it made me wonder whether time travel was an accepted standard practice even in the future.
She then admitted, "I'm still a little freaked out about having an older me, but I guess that kind of thing happens when you travel between time planes."
"There's actually three of you in this dimension," I stated. "That I know of."
I then remembered something the older Asahina had said, and I realized that there could actually be millions of us, though most of them would only exist temporarily.
I added, "And I'm guessing that the older you is the one who made all the rules about what's classified and what isn't."
"And my mission," she supplied.
"Your mission?" I asked.
She answered, "We still need to figure out what's going on with Miss Suzumiya."
"There's something going on?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered. "She somehow made it possible to create this dimension, although I have no idea what that even means."
"You weren't told?" I asked.
"No," she answered.
"It's probably just as well," I said, considering that she probably would have been given my explanation, which was about as good as randomly guessing how it worked.
She then stated, "I would like to just observe and remain unnoticed."
"I figured you would say that," I said, very agreeably.
"You did?"
"You are a time traveler."
"You've been thinking about this, haven't you?"
"It has crossed my mind."
- x -
Friday, February 16, 2001.
Four years to the day after my encounter with the older Mikuru Asahina, I encountered another stunner by the name of Ryoko Asakura. I had been returning home from school, anticipating a nice warm cup of tea and a long lounging session in front of the TV, when I came across this charming girl, standing in front of the fifth door on this floor. Since I lived in apartment "504," this just seemed to me like a nice chance encounter with a neighbor.
"Hello," I said, taking her a little by surprise.
"Oh!" she said. "This is different."
With that, she made the first of many cryptic remarks that would leave me puzzling for years.
"Hey, Kyon," she greeted me by the weird nickname most people seemed dead-set on using.
"You've already met my sister?" I guessed.
"I'm Ryoko Asakura," she answered. "I live right next door."
"Oh, okay," I said. "You just moved in?"
She replied, "Actually, I've been here for a few months."
"Are you a high school student?" I asked.
"Not yet," she answered.
"So, you're still in middle school?" I asked.
"Are you in middle school?" she asked.
"Yeah," I answered. "I start my second year in a couple of months."
"Same here," she said.
"Haven't seen you before," I remarked.
It was very odd. My mother is really good about keeping up with the neighbors, and I didn't recall any mention of this girl. It left me wondering for a moment, but it was nothing too out of the ordinary.
She then asked, "This is a shot in the dark, but do you know a girl named Haruhi Suzumiya?"
"Yeah," I answered. "We talk on the phone sometimes. Why?"
"Just curious," she said.
I found it curious that she would ask about Haruhi, so I asked, "Are you a time traveler?"
"Should you really be asking me that?" she asked.
I laughed and admitted, "I guess not."
Even assuming she was a time traveler, it was probably considered rude to ask. I was struck by this feeling of there being a kind of culture gap, but this one seemed a little odd.
"Oh jeez..." she said, becoming somewhat glassy-eyed.
"What?" I asked.
She then slowly sat with her back against the wall, then slowly put her face in her hands. It was like I was suddenly looking at a textbook example of severe "May Syndrome."
"Are you okay?" I then asked.
"I can't believe I'm back in this time," she complained.
"What?" I said.
"Why me?" she asked the air.
"Aren't you a little young for senioritus?" I asked her.
"Which time plane is this?" she asked me.
"Number eight," I answered, "if I've been informed correctly."
"Eight," she said. "This does just keep going on and on and on..."
I was pretty convinced she was a time traveler, and I remarked, "You know a lot about all this."
"I'm an alien," she admitted.
"Really?" I asked.
"Yeah," she answered, "but don't tell anyone. It's a secret."
"That's pretty amazing," I softly remarked.
She then hit her head against the wall a few times, complaining, "Why me? Why?"
For an alien, she sure exhibited some classic human foibles. I began to wonder just how alien she was, but then she started to stand up again.
"Oh, well," she said. "I'll just have to slog through again."
"You seem a little burned out," I observed.
"Hey, Kyon," she said, still looking pretty glassy-eyed. "Isn't there something you can tell me? I mean, I'm really not motivated for this."
"I can see that," I said.
For several moments, it was mind-boggling. Here was someone that Haruhi would have given anything to meet, and yet she seemed so human that I doubted whether Haruhi would have believed me. Then I thought for a moment about what Asakura had told me.
I asked, "What was it like? I mean, in the previous time plane? Do you remember?"
She instantly smiled and replied, "Oh, man! It was so awesome. It was like one, long summer. I didn't have a care in the world. I just did anything I wanted. And now... I can't believe I'm back here. Why did that time pass so fast?"
"They do say time flies when you're having fun," I remarked, watching Asakura slowly go from being bright-eyed to looking a little sad.
She then complained, "Why couldn't I just do that over and over and over?"
"So, you can remember?" I asked.
"Yeah," she answered, "but what's the point? It's all gone now."
"I kind of see what you mean," seriously thinking about what she had just said. "Okay, now I'm starting to get a little burned out."