Chapter 2
Author's note: To those reading this, sorry for late update, I was hit by a bus. Busy with website work and homework too.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi and all its subsidiaries.
-
On this airy autumn Sunday, I was not at the location I'd previously planned. Instead of snoring my day away, I found myself standing in a kart-pit, analyzing what was undoubtedly experienced competition. For such light one-man vehicles, the125cc karts in question maxed at nearly 185km/h. Granted, equally serious safety measures took place, including the mandatory helmets, neck collars, and full-body suits. The matching full-face helmets were extremely modern – sporting a wireless intercom. Crafted from Acrylonitrile Butadiene Styrene plastic, fibreglass and a soft, thick, inner liner made of expanded polystyrene foam, these protective headgears are the children of years of testing and research and follows rigorous safety laws.
Or so the sponsorship website claims
Yes, I thoroughly researched the safety equipment prior to my decision to participate.
And yes, that was a gross exaggeration of my own freedom of choice in the matter, as Haruhi would've dragged me here regardless.
The past week flew past conscious train of thought at blistering speeds, emanating the expression 'time flies for those that wait.' Advantageous to some, such as our leader, whose sole thought in mind featured this race, this fast-forwarding was definitely not to my favour. I had not yet completed the latest English assignment.
Haruhi, when asked, gave an incredulous reply, "That thing? I finished it in class." Why the divine presented Haruhi with such intellect, I will never know; and neither will the fellow racers arguing with Haruhi.
Enjoy as I may the refreshing shade of the tool-filled miniature garage, it seemed best to stop this impeccable fight prematurely, for the safety of those other kids.
Asahina-san et al noticed the commotion, but I expected them to pay no heed. Shy senpai was trying to pull down the fringes of her short cheerleading skirt. While the rest of our group wore full-body zipped suits, she donned the team cheerleading version, a softer fabric compared to our leathers, and matching red and white skirt, which hitched up every few moments. Haruhi, adamant on the importance of racing female fatales, kidnapped her into the change room before we were presented with our set. Ironically, despite Haruhi's extreme tastes and interest, her fashion sense is unparallel. Form hugging, the white top sported a low v-cut zippered neck that flared into a redlined ribbed collar. Crimson bordered the outside of the neck, paired with curved centrepieces on each side of the stomach. The skirt contrasted the top, red hue predominant, ending with white above the knees. Stylish and urban, the uniform declared dangerous speed-chick, looking like a port straight from Tokyo Drift. Indeed, that overly endorsed eye-candy of a film failed miserably at portraying high school life. It wasn't so normal.
Nagato sat next to the anxious Asahina-san, before her eyes met my glance confirming her consciousness. She was not clad in a cheerleader uniform, but a skin-tight, racing crew outfit. However, she did have a pair of pom-poms. Too bad, her petit figure would have been a pleasing sight.
Koizumi, who sat next to Nagato, watched the unfolding argument with a sympathetic smile. He also wore a leather suit.
Upon my near arrival, the source of Haruhi's fury became evident.
"I dare you to repeat that again; and I'll castrate you - hang you upside down by your entrails, and knock off your limbs like a piñata!" Haruhi has a very imaginative mind. Pity; the opposing trio of fools did not yield.
"Whatever man, chicks can't drive for crap - just make losing easier on yourself and quit." The piñata-to-be looked a typical punk gifted with a face bland of characteristics worth describing.
I came up beside Haruhi and placed a hand on her shoulder to halt her assault. Ignoring the consequences of interrupting, I told them off.
Why not settle this on the racetrack?
Trio of racing squares stared me down, sizing up my no-doubt handsome appearance and striking pose. Haruhi also decided to turn and scowl at my interruption. Sigh, the good guys are always so unappreciated.
"I can handle these buffoons by myself, so why don't you run along and go play with Mikuru-chan!?" With each word rising in volume, Haruhi shouted her complaint with a finish of 140 decibels from my estimate.
The apparent goon squad leader, after examining me like a rodent he happened to have pitied on by ending its life faced Haruhi with glee.
"Yeah, alright. Bring it on the track then. It'll be better to watch you lose publicly," he laughed, and his companions followed suit as they skittered away.
Burning holes in their retreating figures with relentless animosity, Haruhi then glared at me. It was quite cute; that flustered glare adorning her features - if it weren't yours truly on the receiving end. Though I wouldn't have anyone else take my place.
Haruhi hmphed' with a cross of her arms. "Whatever, it'll be fun to nationally humiliate those idiots. Kyon, you better be tuning the kart right, and that goes for the rest of Koizumi's buddies."
I almost forgot that he invited a few peers to do all the technical work. They weren't noticeable, but only the more suspicious.
"It pisses me off how they think they can do whatever they want simply because they're the defending champions for the past three years."
Sigh. And of all people, you just had to bother them?
"Kyon, when you're the challenger, you always go after the champions! Don't you know anything?!"
Another 'Suzumiya Haruhi's life lessons' you should promptly ignore if you wish for peace and happiness. Ah well, something else had been bothering me.
Haruhi, on the way in, the billboard specifically stated that the age minimum is eighteen. How are we competing? Sue me for curiosity, but what type of coercion was utilized this time?
"Oh, I simply asked the JAF district manager nicely," Haruhi grinned enticingly. The Japanese Automobile Federation was the overseer of this event.
Don't tell me that's all that you did. No matter what world-changing abilities Haruhi possessed in her arsenal, I refuse to believe 'asking nicely' was one of them.
"Hmm. well, I did follow him around for a few days to discover his weakness, but he was just so ordinary, hanging at bars picking up girls."
Ah, so that's why she wasn't at brigade meetings recently.
"Then, I did some research, and discovered that he was married! So I took a few compromising pictures, and he turned a blind eye to our entry." Haruhi finished, face in a Cheshire grin.
Lecturing Haruhi on human ethics and morality was a waste of time. Haruhi's clothing yielded more interest.
"He even provided extra sponsors, like the Yamatsuchi Model-Shop!"
Her own leather outfit did not differ greatly with Nagato's, white, with fiery highlights on arms and down the abdomen plus thighs. Alongside lay cleverly concealed ventilation slits. The factor that made Haruhi look more impressive was no doubt her curvaceous body.
Then I noticed that Haruhi had been watching my appreciative examination for some time.
"I'm glad you like it," she huffed, turning away quickly, sarcasm dripping off every word. "It even has the SOS Brigade insignia on the back."
Indeed, the pitiful chicken scrawl embroidered on the centre of the back nested snugly between the flaming red borders. So that's where my deposit on these suits went.
-
Sometime later, I found myself placed once again in our homely pit, watching the starting line underneath the relentless sun. Now I finally realized the scope of this race, such enormity in a go-kart competition. Bleachers of fans seated on the outside of the track were screaming senselessly. Monstrous tires decorated the outside of the track, along with a well-protected cubby of judges and commentators.
Somewhere among the dozen plus karts must've been Haruhi with her number 14. To my knowledge, the numbers bore no testament to the starting position, so we probably blackmailed past the qualifier.
Above us, the announcement speakers boomed. A two-part sprint race was today's agenda, apparently due to the unanticipated number of participants. A five-lap qualifier followed by the actual event would require hefty endurance.
"Uh... testing, testing... And welcome, folks, to the annual racing sponsorship held at -"
"KYON! I expect you to be 2000 ready when I hit the pit! Or else your head will roll," screeched my wireless headset. They should have added a damned mute function. At least the kind Asahina-san is worried about my ear spewing blood. And how is she planning to "hit" the pit?
"Kyon! Do you copy!?"
Yes, yes, now please stop screaming! My ears cannot withstand toxic emissions!
Before Haruhi could continue blaring, the first red ready light flared, accompanied with its distinctive beep. The signals came from an overhead pole, painted black against the coloured lights. Beneath it lined up the bevy of karts, from various companies, covered with an equal number of sponsor ads.
I don't know why I've never considered this before, but Haruhi was being truthful when she stated she could drive, right?
The second of the five visual signals alighted. Now is quite late to worry over safety, but whose? Should I be concerned with the possibility of a merciless crash massacre? Am I worried about Haru-
Third honk sounded as its respective double-sided light lit. I am currently thinking at mach speeds. Why the hell have these possible dire consequences never come to mind until now? Who drugged into agreeing to this stupidity? Perhaps that instinctive trusting bond Koizumi claims we share blinded my better judgement.
Last warning light flared. I'm not usually a praying man, but if you can hear me, please save us Superman.
BEEEEEERRP.
Dozens of slicks squealed against smooth tarmac, attempting to gain traction to the harsh demands of their drivers. The four-stroke engines roared in their pride. Timed with an undeniable VVROOM, they were off.
It was Nagato that spotted Haruhi first, silently pointing toward her on our monitors. Koizumi did not appear worried, but his little beady perspiration testified otherwise. Asahina-san's response was really to be expected, whimpering behind me in fear, pulling on my suit. She still had that aphrodisiac quality, even if I didn't know if her fear held was for Haruhi, or us. Both are justifiable at the moment.
-
It would appear that our anxiety was uncalled for, as Haruhi speechlessly proved her navigating capabilities. Our radio airwaves were dead, so I'd assume Haruhi busied herself on driving.
The first lap was merely a warm-up, and the drivers took this time to warm up their tires and holding a good position. Of course, that doesn't speak for everybody, since Haruhi only saw first in her mind, and it was 'metal to the pedal' right from start.
Drive she did – that mistress of disaster was surprisingly adept at it. Actually, I suppose that now it's no longer so miraculous, given Haruhi's own history of pulling rabbits out of that bottomless hat of mystery.
Haruhi's 14 quickly advanced through the instant placement ranking on our second monitor. That laggy screen wasn't nearly as breathtaking as her racing.
Her kart slipped through the smallest of breaks, slivers of opportunity that one wouldn't even risk considering. Nevertheless, this was Suzumiya Haruhi, and damned be anything she would not dare. Weaving through tightly knit traffic like laser through recycled paper, her fellow competitors must have been twice as astounded as we were.
Haruhi pounded the first corner with aggression, shocking the defending karts. With no time wasted, she angled her turn, and squealed along the apex past the defender, before immediately stabilising.
Without flinching at all, she maximized her speed from that turn, picking up number 6's draft and slingshot past. Again, she intercepted the ideal line, flying through with just enough force.
With no rest, Haruhi punched the engine and caught up to the leading group. This time, the drive held the defending line well on two more corners, Haruhi forced near the apex.
Wait, what was she doing?! She's slowing down, but placing herself directly behind number 7. Just a little more and you'd be breaking contact rules, Haruhi!
"It would seem that Suzumiya-san is employing the technique drivers call 'drafting.'"
What the hell is that, conscription?
Koizumi continued with a flick of his hair. "Essentially, you place yourself behind the defending driver, and force him to accelerate. While the leader is using his engine to push a hole in the opposing air currents, you simply follow along in the vacuum, closing the hole with your vehicle."
I looked over at his smiling face, free from traces of worry once again. Where'd you get this technical information?
"My associates, of course. Some happen to specialize in racing against time, per se."
The commentators were equally astounded, commented on in awe. Just who was this rookie entrée, they asked each other. After some time, her name was located. Apparently, no details aside from name and her team were evident; no bombshell in the fact that it was none other than the infamous SOS Brigade.
After some commentator giggling over the retarded brand, the race was once again the focus. We were the underdogs, the cockroaches, the household pests that were annoying, yet somehow inspirational in their ability to survive and come back repeatedly, mounting the throne that is rightfully theirs.
I'm no optimist, but at Haruhi's rate, we may just win. However, this was only the qualifier, where top ten will make it through.
Someone tugged on my sleeve, and I found the usual SOS maid looking slightly calmer, yet still fearful.
"Kyon-kun… what if something goes wrong? Haruhi wouldn't have an accident, right? What if she needs more fuel or the engine breaks or a tire pops or—"
"No need for worries. If anything disruptive comes along, I'm sure dear Kyon-kun has no problems handling it with ease," Koizumi suddenly stood beside me; hand on my shoulder in what I deduce should've been a comforting gesture. "This is our destined fate, and I'm sure nothing will occur, too out of the ordinary.
Our ordinary is already extraordinary, you bum.
A blaring air horn sounded, signalling the end of the qualifier, accompanied by loud fanfare. All around us, tech crews cried and rejoiced underneath the pit area roof. Quickly glancing the monitor revealed that Haruhi placed fourth, after the defending champion and his two goons.
Well, one possible crisis averted. If only the race itself were as easy.
Nagato also joined our little standing party of reluctant saviours of the universe, and pointed to the abandoned headset cast aside on the table.
"—Kyon! K—yon," static flitted through. Crap, this did not bode well. Grabbing the communication device, I was privy to the full message in all its obscene glory.
"KYON! Why didn't you answer!?" Shouts and screams.
I was preoccupied celebrating your stupendous win.
"Preoccupied my – Get the fuel ready, I'm coming in for a refill," said our driver.
I relayed the message quickly, and we spread around, awaiting Haruhi's arrival.
Soon enough, the lightweight vehicle sped into our roofed pit with a screech, and Haruhi flung off her helmet with a shudder.
Haruhi's dark auburn hair swept across her face, sticking in bangs, beads of perspiration decorating her usual headband. Her suit clung tautly to her figure, the top unzipped halfway. This race was taking more from her than I expected.
"Koizumi, go fill her up, and tune the engine – Mikuru-chan, get me a drink – and Kyon," said Haruhi, whipping out instructions, smoothly sidestepping out of the vehicle. "We need to discuss our battle strategy."
"Ye-yes!"
"As you command."
Nagato, without orders, simply floated off like wasted RAM. I remained, returning Haruhi's analytical look.
"Kyon."
Sigh, what is it now?
"I need you to watch the race from the monitors." She measured my trustworthiness with her stare. "I'm going to have problems passing the leaders, so you better direct my cornering."
That was it. Haruhi returned to the track pronto, retesting the kart, while I, with not even so much as a thanks or a please, prepped the monitors as if my life depended on it.
-
Later I learned that Koizumi's associates did all the behind-the-scenes work. Since none of us has any real engineering knowledge (with the exception of Nagato, but she doesn't count), all I could do was hope for the best.
His squad of ESPer boys obeyed Haruhi's commands and made appropriate adjustments. The qualifier gave us an hour or so break until the main event, but she didn't rest at all.
Our resident time-traveller served the still warm tea from her thermos, and Nagato passed the time examining the assortment of nameless tools. Meanwhile, I wandered around, scoping the competition.
Most drivers were fine-tuning their machines after getting a feel for the asphalt, so it seemed that nobody had time to sit around. Except Haruhi's nemesis, who, slouched in front of his private trailer, relaxed away.
That impression was misleading, since he also ordered his lackeys around.
I returned to the Brigade pit area, only to find Haruhi sitting in my seat. Strewn around haphazardly were electronics, car batteries, a few laptops, and a bunch of tires. She was responsible for this mess anyhow.
"Did you finish everything already?"
I sat in Koizumi's folding chair, as he was nowhere in sight.
"I don't know where he got the crew from, but they're really something." Haruhi sipped on her water bottle. Her top was unzipped halfway, revealing a black tank-top underneath.
"All the preparations are done, and we'll begin soon. Kyon, you better be watching those monitors. Those three work well to block my vision, so I'm counting on you."
Haruhi gave me a side-glance, before rushing over to Asahina-san, and began playing with her.
As I sighed and honoured the loss of a young girl's innocence amidst the squeals and yells, I turned to the brigade's diminutive silent-type member. Nagato, who hasn't spoken a single word all day, sat beside me with a walkie-talkie. Seeing her flick it on and off reminded me of a question I had always wanted to ask.
How do you talk with your boss anyway? The data sentient whatever – use something like a communication device?
Her dark eyes matched mine, before answering in her quiet voice, "The use of primitive information transfer technology is not necessary. I was created for interacting with the sentient life forms on this planet. In essence, I am the communication tool."
So basically, you just talk in your head?
Nagato stared at me briefly, before giving a slight nod. I guess I wouldn't understand even if she explained, without an encyclopaedia handy. That would probably be why she doesn't normally take action herself. Her role was to only account. This triggered my next question,
"What do you report to your higher-ups?" I'm not sure who her boss might be, but they cannot possibly be interested in boring daily procedures.
"My task is to monitor Suzumiya Haruhi's behaviour, subsequent alterations to surrounding data, and the other factions also engaging in surveillance."
Nagato's slim body was absolutely still like an ornament, but her eyes conveyed complicated emotions, like one experiencing their entire life in flashbacks before their death. From what she's told me, her fellow aliens have varying views on just how to deal with Haruhi and her crazy brigade. Some, like the disappeared class-president, would take extreme means. For now, however, Nagato was a dependable warrior on our side.
"The other factions would be Koizumi's ESPers and Asahina-san's time-travellers, right?"
Nagato turned away and gave a slight nod of affirmation. Haruhi, just look at how important you are. Some would kill to be chased after by aliens, time travellers and ESPers, yet you still pursue more!
In a small voice, Nagato continued,
"…As well, I am observing you."
-
Time continued its rapid pace, now steroid-enhanced. Therefore, without further complications, the main event began to rave fanfare and broadcast. Several camera operators dispersed, eager to film this unusual event. After all, how often does one see karting at such high speeds in Japan? Far more common in the western society, it certainly raises the question of possibly how Haruhi is so good at it.
That was a rhetorical question, since the answer is as obvious as why weird people surround her, with the exception of yours truly.
Unlike the qualifier, the results positioned the racers accordingly, and Haruhi's 14 was on the outside lane, second row. All vehicles in position and fired up, all that remained, was the signal to begin. Aside from the light indicators at the top, the sponsors even managed to get some poor sap take the position of the finish line tower, and wave finish and warning flags.
As for the Haruhi's minions, we all stood, gathered around the little colour monitors, silently awaiting the start. Our position was quite close to the finish line, so we had an unblocked view of that and the tower as well.
The red light alighted once again, and the speakers blared out some useless information.
The yellow light soon followed, and the drivers revved their one-cylinder engines in response loud enough to us.
Flagman raised his arm…
Green flag flew down in split-second to the green light. Engines erupted in magnitudes of revving and sound – smoke rose in burned rubber – drivers shot back in their seats – and they shot off.
Haruhi wasn't leaving this to luck, and aggressively began to pressure the inside-lane driver beside her, number 6. Just short of contact, she maintained her speed around the first bend, leaving a barely visible gap. The red 8 and magenta 10 behind her had no opportunities to attack.
A quick glance at the live driver info revealed that the two leaders and navy 6 were none other than piñata and his goons. The list indicated defending champion as 'Natsume.' His goons had forgettable names.
The stragglers really began to show after the first three turns, quickly distanced from the leaders. The first six karts rapidly pulled ahead, magenta 10 battling against red 8 for an open space behind Haruhi.
Just as Haruhi angled her corner, making a racing line past defender's navy 6, it feigned a sudden collision course – right towards Haruhi!
She pulled, giving 6 the lead, and swivelled trying to gain traction, her wheels scarring the tarmac with black.
The nerve of the bastard, assaulting like that! Even with Haruhi's exceptional driving, the sudden fake cost her two positions, and she dropped rapidly behind magenta and red. Faintly, the headphones hooked onto my neck sounded shouts and static profanities.
Speeding again, this time pushing normal controllable turns, Haruhi raced towards the apex, the number of turns already forgotten. The defending karts began pulling in towards the inner circle, but Haruhi punched the engine.
Just discernable, the complaining whine of her engine played through the headphones accompanied with her restless breathing. Calm down, relax, calm –
The rest of the group shared my anxiety, Asahina-san long ago death-gripping my elbow, Koizumi glaring at the screens. Yuki appeared unfazed, but to my eyes, she might have been nervous also, her eyes unblinkingly staring.
Rounding the sprint's figure eight, 14 pushed forward… 8 trailing 10 slightly… and rounding the first bend, Haruhi sped even more, drafting behind 8, and without even slowing down, forced 8 forward on threat of collision – slowed suddenly – and in a move that can only be called magic, drifted her back tires around the corner of the apex, before instantly reversing the angle of the front tires, and stabilized right past the out of control 8! Unprecedented! Watching it was like seeing for the first time a famous conductor weaving harmonic artistry with such contrasting instruments.
I let out a breath, collectively with Koizumi and Asahina-san. Both were sweating profusely. Nagato saw me watching, and blinked once.
The distractive brigade members buzzed over my shoulder as I observed Haruhi rush through the leading 10 on a straightway, catching up to the leading three. Their self-confidence wasn't unfounded, as they somehow blocked Haruhi for another corner. By managing to coordinate a cheap mobile wall of sorts, they effectively blocked Haruhi's vehicle.
Suddenly, a clear tone pierced my concentration
"Kyon, do you read me?" Haruhi's voice sounded strained. She must be having difficulty with three karts directly in front.
Aye, aye, Schumacher.
"What?" A slight pause, and then, "Whatever, tell me how far the next U-turn is."
Judging from pure uneducated estimation, I would say... one hundred metres. Oh look, the leader's grey vehicle sped off. Ditching the two goons, number 1 pushed ahead, leaving the dirty work to 2 and 3. What coincidental numberings.
Haruhi grunted in effort controlling her kart at high speeds. Time for me to pull my weight. Nearly at the turn, goon number two slowed and hugged the inside, while number three slid around the outside. In that split-second of an opportunity, I exclaimed --
"Now!"
There wasn't a reply, but 14 must've gunned it, and like a sausage through butter-buns, defied all rationality, squeezed through the two defenders with a wild slide. Nevertheless, it wasn't truly over until the three straightened.
The first to do that was none other than Haruhi.
Continuing her rapid pace, the crowd certainly loved it more than we did, but I couldn't speak for Asahina-san, who had cutely fainted against me. Koizumi clapped in admiration and loosened his collar.
The only person who gave no acknowledgment was the driver herself, still intent on passing car one. Last lap and only the two made it in qualifying time – the rest were busy licking their wounds, already off the track. Even the two goon karts slipped and barrelled into the inner hay bails.
I will be the first to say that the defending champion impressed me. To keep Haruhi at bay was an extraordinary feat indeed. Perhaps Haruhi deserves her own medal for her insane courage. Now she was demonstrating it clearly, attempting to knock the leader out.
"How much further until the next bend?" The wireless came to life once again with rapid speech.
"Maybe seventy metres," I reckoned. I estimated from the number of equal length banner ads spanning the outside ring.
Our little group watched as Natsume hugged the corner to the extreme driving over the chequered inner border, leaving no chance for his follower. On the miniscule monitor, Haruhi's kart started intimidating against number 1 from behind. Tailgating would have been the appropriate vocabulary presently.
"It appears that our commander is becoming quite agitated," Koizumi spared his life-enlightening thought.
Thank you Koizumi, your impeccable observation has been much useful.
"You're very welcome."
Back to the race at hand, with a lap remaining, last two remaining competitors were like bulls locking horns, neither letting up. Just after three more turns, only a straight run will remain.
Flaming red 14 and grey 1 clashed, both tightening all gears, tires and whatever else in those karts to pass the other, and with an opposite attempted turn, Haruhi's 14 squealed the back wheels over first, and she made the inside corner! In some strange miracle, she sped up again, and spun her way inside! I wouldn't have believed Haruhi had known what brakes were. Indeed, I was sure she was sporting a tank with the message, "I only know one speed – forward" earlier.
"We're certainly not out of the woods yet," Koizumi said with a hand on his chin.
I turned to notice that Nagato was intently staring at the screen.
That Natsume didn't know how to quit, insistently feigning towards Haruhi with front bumper into Haruhi's back tires. What kind of foul play was this? This is definitely not the behaviour of a champion!
He pushed again, this time actually contacting – what should've been an instant disqualification! No, the fans were only more excited, and the officials did nothing but sip their tea, enjoying this little speed-war.
"What kind of idiocy is this? Why aren't they disqualifying the ass?" Damnit, what the hell is this place?
Nagato answered me in a rush, "The rules do not entail implicit details regarding using force to incapacitate fellow racers. Section 4.B line 35 specifies that no action will be utilized by the organizer due to aggressive driving."
Haruhi's cries came through, "—I'm trying—his car is heavier—Argh!"
Nodding in acknowledgement to Nagato's assistance, I told Haruhi, "You hear that? This will possibly be the only time I ever tell you to do something stupid, but it looks like fair play isn't the on the activity agenda, so slam that guy into the bleachers!"
My anger increased to a level that hasn't been since a long time ago, but that was different. This time, it was raw anger – at the fans, the organizers, and at that champion. Please, let me live to regret this later.
Rushing through the last stretch aside one another, sparks flew from the assaults each driver bore the other. Scratched paint flecks dusted the road. Slicks burned away, streaking the asphalt.
And then, Haruhi was immediately behind number 1.
"Take this you –"
Dust bellowed from the track, as karts skewed across the pavement and crashed into the sidelines with a screech of metal and rubber. The spectators gasped, commentators shouting –!
-
Occasionally, there are times throughout life when logical thought is abandoned, and pure instincts drive man forward. What I thought at that moment was certainly not logical, since what I was hoping for, wishing for, may prove disadvantageous for humankind.
In these moments, man does not care for others. It is that greedy desire burning, bursting from control that matters the most.
The scene was not far from the finish line, but was on the opposite side distanced from our setup. Beside me sprinted Koizumi, his eternal smirk absent.
A crew of white-suited paramedics already stationed at the scene raised my apprehension. Officials barred people from getting near. Spotting a distracted rent-a-cop, I swiftly stepped past and entered the smoky crash scene. What used to be parked karts in the vicinity that now beleaguered the scene exaggerated the mess. The parking area did provide first-line of defence for the bleachers behind them.
The crowd was unharmed, but seemingly even more excited. Haruhi, where are you?
Acrid fumes arose from the ground littered with plastic and pieces of advertisements. Stains highlighted the ground, a rainbow reflected in them as the sunlight filtered through. Sounds of cackling flames and collapsing metal almost lead me to miss a voice.
"Cough – ugh…."
I glanced around, attempting to locate the voice. By now, the early-glaring sun hid away behind a cloud, encircling the area with shadow. Then another cough, to the right, hidden by the miniature fume clouds. I trekked over, covering my mouth with my already soot-covered sleeve.
"Haruhi!?" A figure emerged, rolling out near the outside border, but it wasn't her. Out of the generosity of my heart, I sighed and dragged his groaning self to the outskirts of the accident, dumped him off for Koizumi and Nagato, and ran back into the dark unknown.
By now, the smoke of the crash dispersed slightly, giving me better sight. Heading deeper, I heard the fainting roar of an engine, and felt shattered glass underneath my feet.
Haruhi, quit hiding.
I felt a calling; something drove my footsteps in the direction of a clearing past the strewn karts and beyond the fence of advertisements to dirtied ground and a gateway. The sky shining through this hole suggested that it lead outside the track. I possess neither woman's intuition nor psychic abilities, or can foretell the future, but this feeling was overpowering. If someone had described to me their experience of called to action by some higher being, I would have nonchalantly categorized them as either extremely sleep-deprived or clinically insane. In the first place, I would not associate myself with such people.
Trudging through the smoke, I witnessed a dark silhouette, simmering in the breeze.
I stepped through, and found a young beauty.
Haruhi stood there, immobile as a statue, head tilted towards the heavens, as if defying the powers that be. Her expression shadowed, framed by dark hair spilling over a flushed cheek. The left hand clutched her helmet, a scratch scarring the smooth plastic. Trailing the shoulder of the arm was a long gnash, dry blood already scalding.
She was amongst the wreckage, looking for the entire world, like the sole survivor of some horrendous tragedy, both pitifully poignant and cynically laughing, mocking her own destiny.
I could not approach. Bolted to the ground, my eyes dared not to wander from her desolate figure. Sunlight haloed the contour of her being.
She was no longer a girl – no longer the passionate honcho of the SOS Brigade. No, she was out of this world.
Sighing, I concerted on moving my legs, and perambulated beside Haruhi, resting my scrutinizing gaze upon her, and then turning it toward the haloed clouds.
Silenced ensued, the deep echoes reverberating through the air.
"Nice weather out today," was my intelligent proclamation. There was no reply, though I did not expect one. Her good arm was cradling the other.
"So, do you think they hailed it our victory?"
Tumbleweed wobbled by as the sole response. Most likely, I would have continued standing there, had not Haruhi spoke.
"You came looking for me," she said, a surprised statement in the tone of a question.
This sounded like a trick question Okabe-sensei would give us where the answer lay in how you chose to respond. In this scenario, a non-aggressive honest approach should yield peaceful results.
"Can't ditch the leader all by herself, can I?" I stated evenly. Definitely – she might hurt somebody.
Haruhi stared at me with a condescending frown. The edges of her lips then slowly crawled up their porcelain residence, and formed into a bright, beaming smile.
"I see that you've finally followed the rules of conduct on properly treating your superior officer," Haruhi said, casually striding an encompassment. She paused, and grinned once more, "Let's go grab a championship."
-
Of course, reality would never concede and spare me grief if given the opportunity, and thus, here I stood, stimulating my temples to prevent an apoplexy, as Haruhi chewed out the organizer for his resolution. Her bandaged arm was an oxymoron contrast to her boundless energy.
"What do you mean, 'there has been no declared victor?' The whole world can testify that I obviously won!"
The event manager was equally as distraught as I, attempting to calm down the livid lass.
"Our cameras were wrecked during the accident, and it was unclear which vehicle passed the finish line first, if any!" The balding man in his grey suit, exasperated, still accomplished to maintain a level attitude. I pity him, tortured on the business end of Haruhi.
"Aside from that, you both should be disqualified and causing such trauma and damage! Why, I nearly had a heart attack! The only reason you're still here is because of the pleased fans, don't forget!"
Well, that ended all sympathy for the man. He was another ordinary pompous money-grovelling executive, unconcerned for others.
"What the hell is that? Then what the hell was the purpose of that whole race if there was no winner?" This came from Natsume, who was also present. It appears that he completely reverted from his sickly self to the king of arrogance.
Haruhi fumed, obviously faulting him for the entire incident, but nevertheless, acquiescent. Joining us were Koizumi, Nagato, and the bewildered Asahina-san who recently recovered from unconsciousness.
Stepping up, the only other male in the SOS offered his Solomon-esque judgement. "Why not hold a short race between the would-be victors?"
Blaring silence trailed in the wake of his suggestion. Honestly, sometimes I speculate about the sanity of those in the SOS Brigade. Does the fact that your acclaimed 'God' just unceremoniously strode out of a crash play no factor in your proposition of a rematch?
"Great idea, this way, it'll be obvious I won," said Natsume.
As the expression goes, an idiot is a genius to another idiot. The greater shock lay in Haruhi's expression. I would presume her feelings to be that of a woman who just had her car stolen in front of her and left with a thank-you card from the thief. Shock, annoyance, and anger were just a few that flickered across her face.
"That is an apposite suggestion, and we can administrate that, seeing as the track is cleared now." The management stated, relieved at the silence, before pointedly looking at Haruhi. "Unless someone has a better idea?"
The savage young woman looked prepared to strike, but watching my frown, restrained herself. Near-victim continued quickly with an answer completely contradicting their aggressive driving rule, "However, you will require a substitute. We cannot allow injured racers on the track, sorry."
The apology at the end must've been the trigger.
"What!?" Haruhi sputtered indignantly. "What the hell kind of rule is that? This is just a scratch, now give me a kart, or we'll witness who is really injured!"
A nearby security personnel walked up glaring at Haruhi. She obviously did not yield to the challenge and glared full-force in return – burning his ironed uniform. With the backup in immediate demand, the manager regained his bravado. By then, I had silently moved beside Haruhi. People like him really piss me off.
"If that is not okay with you, we can simply reward Natsume as the champion, since he's already well endorsed and publicized."
My grip on Haruhi's shoulder tightened, and she halted her fuming reply. I quickly interjected, "Yes, we'll find a substitute to represent our team."
As a last resort, I'm sure Nagato would be up to the challenge.
Natsume arrogantly smirked, familiar of Koizumi. "If your little princess can't beat me, who will?"
Haruhi immediately cried, "You're such an idiot that even Kyon can kick your ass anytime!"
I am pleased that I'm so useful. This wasn't leading well.
Knowing that Haruhi walked right into his plan, Natsume went on, "Then let him be your representative. I'll be waiting at the finish line."
"You'll definitely be waiting, since we'll walk off with the trophy!" Defending champion had already walked off, obviously delighted with his unoriginal exit line.
Why was it that this girl smart as a dumbbell when it came to obvious taunts and confrontations? Like a salmon swimming upriver, Haruhi did not know when to quit.
So the queen of the SOS Brigade stood proudly, tremendously confident. Oh, if only she would share even a cubic centimetre of that faith, since I was the poor sap racing.
Haruhi finished glaring at Natsume's retreating back, and turned to me in full scrutiny, her lips cast in a circumflex. Her fiery cat-like eyes bore into me.
"Kyon, come here for a second," Haruhi's order was firm, and the rest of the group sent me off with pitying waves.
I am reminded of those people who have this inane ability to twist commands into firm requests. Generally teachers, one should be always wary when within talking distance, for they never know when they're coerced to work. Now why does this sound familiar?
Haruhi, with the practised precision of a world-class arm-wrestler, dragged me by my hand toward the sheltered pit. Ah, the possibilities, had it been Asahina-san acting so bold.
We arrived back in our kart pit, hidden behind the multitude of kart trailers and clean-up crew. The prior securely packing the speedy monsters away, and the latter disassembling Haruhi's destructive scene. Undoubtedly, they would be in a furious haste to protect their investments after realizing her destructive prowess
Haruhi halted in the shadowy recesses. Her slim hand did not lessen in grip. I thought of making a congratulatory comment to burst the bubble of tension that accumulated, but her voice interrupted me.
"Kyon," Haruhi began, her clear tone resonating in the cramped space.
Turning fluidly, she gazed unblinkingly into my eyes. Her bandaged arm crossed her chest, her free hand still clasped onto my wrist.
"I really hate people like him, cocky and self-absorbed, constantly judging others."
I wonder if Haruhi realized the similarities. However, her super-utility does have reasonable foundation. Even so, she isn't so simply arrogant.
She turned slightly, and her bangs shadowed her face, so that her expression remained a mystery. This felt like a continuation of earlier, in that clearing. Haruhi began again, her words reminiscent of a story that was still occasionally crossed my mind.
"Kyon, do you know why we go to school?"
Well, that is obvious, isn't it? Because it's illegal not to?
"Stupid, that's only until high school. Anyway, we attend school to meet others our age, who share our interests and beliefs, that's why there's such emphasis on clubs and festivals."
Would this conversation have to do with the SOS Brigade?
Haruhi gave me a hard stare, "Middle school was a disappointment – it was mundane, and the students were worse. Everyone thought highly of themselves, forming posses and cliques, and so the ones that didn't fit into the social norm were outcasts."
I could see where Haruhi was heading. She loved the extraordinary, the abnormal. Her fame would have easily preceded her.
"It's understandable, that as kids, they don't know how to accept different people. And in the end, I never did find anyone out of the ordinary. Those like Natsume think they can just do whatever they want, and step on everyone else on the way."
Standing there, I felt Haruhi's grasp grow tighter by the second, turning vice-like. At this rate, I would have an accident even before my race.
"Don't worry about it. I am a member of the SOS Brigade, remember? I can't just lose." I even packaged this ignorantly hopeful statement with a half-hearted smile.
"…" Haruhi seemed to snap out of her trance, and faced me with a confused yet surprised expression. Maybe she saw through my façade. Instead, she gave me a Mona Lisa smile.
"Of course! Because if you don't, you're going to churn through my Ultra-Punishment Assembly Line, two hundred percent efficiency, you hear?"
Wait, wait, wait, why is it 'Ultra,' and what's with 'assembly?'
"Obviously, since it assembles punishments for the unlucky victim. I should mention that, it also reassembles you randomly for dissection." Haruhi grinned at me again, this time showing her pearly whites.
Terrific. Oh, terrific.
-
Ever notice how easily it is to criticize someone, an athlete or skilled professional perhaps, but once you enter the driver's seat, so to speak, the pressure and stress is so much more? In life, one should seek the life of a bystander, the informative, yet pleasantly sarcastic narrator who can enjoy the work of others without ever working yourself. Never be unwittingly dragged into routines such as "for-the-survival-of-mankind" situations where daily sacrifices have become a common practise to the extent of, dare I say, normal.
As a martyr of humanity, my wish is that, at the very least, let me live through a forsaken journey that is about to begin.
"You look ready to be executed." Koizumi said, looking even cheerier as I donned my safety gear.
Your body's too close. What's the difference?
He grin stretched further, showing an unnatural amount of teeth. Continuing his mad rambling,
"Why, I believe you should feel happy. After all, you've been chosen by Haruhi herself, to race in her stead."
I'm racing because our little brigade chief fails to understand how to back down.
Koizumi tried to appear surprised, but managed as well as a blind man sightseeing. If you ever head for Hollywood, Koizumi, don't be surprised by a Golden Raspberry.
"I would have thought that by this point, you have already realized that any non-deterministic event is influenced, or perhaps even controlled."
You deduce that Haruhi willed for this circumstance to arise. That she wanted to have an accident. Ridiculous – even she has enough common sense to live.
Undeterred, Koizumi flicked the wrench in his wrist. "You misunderstand. Suzumiya-san does have the power to realize wishes, as I am sure I have emphasized endlessly. However, one would assume that she does not plot the course for the actualization of such wishes; it is not her character."
Securing my headset and helmet, I flicked my head for that awesome glasses flash effect.
Certainly, Haruhi isn't the type to plan ahead of time. But that would imply she wanted me to compete in her place.
"I would assume that Suzumiya-san hoped for an opportunity to depend on you, and to demonstrate that you are trustworthy. She perhaps, wished for you to realize the existence of her trust."
I entered the 125cc kart, dubbed number 11, the replacement the representatives kindly provided. It was already warmed up for its future fatality. The mirrored face shield hid my expression.
"Or maybe she simply had a bad day, and wanted you to suffer."
Koizumi sensed my laser-beam glare, trying to Etch-A-Sketch his handsome face off.
"I'm just joking, joking!"
-
Consequently, in all the confusion, I never did mention my complete lack of driving experience.
END of chapter 2?