Chapter 2:
Let me tell you a little more about Mikuru Asahina.
Wow, what an abrupt beginning. Sort of epic, like "Call me Ishmael". No, wait a second, who am I kidding? No, it isn't. Sorry about that; forget everything I just said, except the very first line.
Mikuru Asahina would appear to be, from every enjoyable angle of her small-but-voluptuous body, a normal, beautiful, ditsy, 3rd year high schooler. It shouldn't come as any surprise, therefore, that after the insanity of Haruhi Suzumiya, Asahina-san comes as a welcome breath of fresh air. She is sweet, she is beautiful, she makes delicious tea. In short, she's the ultimate Yamato Nadeshiko with whom most boys, though they won't admit it, desire to settle down with and begin making adorable little mini-Asahina-sans with.
As aforementioned, however, there's a catch: Asahina-san may be from this world, but she's not from this time-dimension. So really, she's like an antique china doll: all I can do is look, not touch.
Or so I thought.
Mikuru had already told me, several times, that getting involved with her was a bad idea. Well, I have a pretty good idea of why. Obviously, the situation is complicated by the fact that...I'm not even sure how old she is, in her own time, in this time, or if she's even allowed to have an age. And when you take into consideration that she can't just hang out in this time dimension, or whatever it is, it makes it a little impossible that the two of us could settle down and...oh, dear, it's very complicated.
With all this in mind, you can guess my confusion and probably my wide-open mouth expression when, post "rehearsal", Asahina-san approached me and whispered in my ear to meet her in the club room in ten minutes.
Okay, now ladies, listen up, this is important: When a girl says she wants to "meet" with a guy after school, alone in an enclosed space, the first thing that goes through the mind of the guy is, "OMG, she wants to have sex." The thoughts that follow that might be along the lines of: "Wait, you're an idiot. She just wants to talk", "Wait, you're an idiot. She just wants to confess her love to you", "Wait, you're an idiot. She just wants to make out", or, of course, "OMG! She really wants to have sex!" The final variety is generally reserved for air-headed jocks, but may include attention-starved computer geeks, the ecchi-manga-addicted guys, and, on rare occasions, normal guys like me who have just had their arm accidentally brushed by the over-sized upper-story load of certain red-headed maid-masquerading moe chicks.
Fortunately, that wasn't the case with me. And even if it was, I wouldn't admit it, so shut up.
Ten minutes passed agonizingly slowly. I had actually sprinted up to the Literature Room and was waiting, leaning up against the window-sill, with the window cracked open slightly so that the fresh breeze was blowing my hair slightly and the darkening sky silhouetted my figure, like a male supermodel. I stuck the pose and held it.
Ten minutes passed. Fifteen minutes passed. At twenty minutes, the sharp corner of the metal window sill was biting into the back of my legs as though it were a miniature poodle held in its owner's arms too long for a picture, so I broke my position long enough to get up and stretch, massaging my posterior gingerly.
Asahina-san chose this moment, of all times, to enter, slightly out of breath, carrying a tall stack of papers, and observed me there, bending over and scratching my butt with my face screwed up from the pain.
The laws of the universe are against me, I swear. I bet this was all Haruhi's idea.
I stood there for a minute, as full appreciation of how idiotic I must look was still filling my numb brain, and then I shot upright suddenly and forgot that that particular window opened to the inside.
THOK.
"Itai! Crap, darn, jeez, frick frick FRICK!" Under the circumstances, I allowed myself that much, at least. But the pure ears of Asahina-san must not be sullied by actual language, of course not.
"Kyon-kun, are you all right?" she asked, hurriedly dumping the papers on the table, half of which slid off onto the floor, and crossing the room. Noticing that the papers were scattered all over and taking flight from the wind blowing in from the cursed window, she stood, paralyzed, torn between wanting to help me and knowing that she'd just mixed up very important papers.
"It's okay, I'm okay," I muttered, though my head was screaming, "I hate you!" at me. I knelt down next to her and began picking up papers. A glorious jolt of electricity passed through me when our hands accidentally brushed. I noticed her blush, and pulled my hand back, awkwardly. Every boy knows that when a girl does that, it means she doesn't want him to touch her, right?
"Soooo, what was it you wanted to talk about?" I asked, casually, as we managed to get all the papers back in order again, albeit much more rumpled this time.
She appeared to be thinking about how to word her answer for a minute, and then she blurted out, "We should go out together!"
Did I just hear that right? You, you heard that too, right? Nah, I must be dreaming.
"What...what I mean to say is," she amended herself, blushing scarlet, "that there are certain matters of importance which I can't tell you in the current circumstances, so we need to find some free time to discuss it together."
Uh huh. That's about as clear as a muddy puddle, Asahina-san. But you're cute, so I'll forgive you.
"What kind of matters of importance?" I asked carefully.
"That...that's the sort of thing we need to discuss, you see."
Not even remotely.
"Okay," I said, giving up. "I think Haruhi is letting us off the hook this Sunday. Why don't we meet for lunch?"
She nodded vigorously. "That would be good. But...don't let Haruhi know, and if you do, don't make it sound like a date, and if you do make it sound like a date, don't make it sound like anything else is going on between us, okay?"
I raised my eyebrows and blinked twice. "Okay."
Sunday arrived, and I carefully chose the table at the coffee shop we'd agreed to meet at. Naturally, I was fifteen minutes early. When you're in the SOS Brigade, you start to acquire the paranoia of punctuality. But I also wanted to make sure to be there on time for my date-which-must-not-sound-like-a-date with Asahina-san.
This time, she didn't arrive late, but exactly on the money. The minute hand of the clock above the cashier had just shifted to straight up as the bell above the door rang when she entered, sweetly, and my heart gave a little soft thump at the sight of her in her layered, blue-checkered dress and soft white sweater. Occasionally, the brain shifts from its normal, semi-functional state to grey mush that would flow out the ears if I allowed it. This was one of those times.
I smiled as I scooted over on the cushioned bench that ran against the wall on one side of the table to make room for her, my arm conveniently placed around the back of it. She smiled back at me and, oblivious to my hard work to choose the most comfortable bench on one side and the hardest chair on the other side, sat down across from me.
I gave an inward sigh. Oh well, it couldn't be that easy, could it?
"Well, did you want to order first, and then discuss that 'matter of importance'?" I asked her, watching as she settled in to the hard metal chair.
"Okay," she agreed cheerfully, and took up her menu. I watched her, enjoying the way the soft light glinted off the open window behind me and cast little rainbows on her face. After the waitress came and took our orders (Earl Grey tea with milk, and coffee, black), she leaned forward with her eyes huge and her expression serious. I didn't notice either, though, because when she leaned forward, the front of her blouse and what was under it pillowed against the scratched faux-wood table top.
"Kyon," she started in the low tone which was so different from her normal cutsy voice, "there is an urgent matter which I must discuss with you."
Yes, you've said that already. Anything else?
"What I have to say must be kept in absolute secrecy, understand? Don't mention it to anyone except myself, Yuki-chan, and Koizumi-kun. Otherwise, the consequences could be absolutely disastrous.
"In essence, what is going on is this..."
The waitress took that minute to arrive with our drinks. I considered face-palming, or maybe even palm-facing, which is the other way around, but decided against it. Instead, I quelled the multitude of questions in my head by concentrating on my coffee, black. After a sip, I considered that perhaps manliness could suffer a bit of sweetness and sneakily reached across the table, not noticing that hers was headed in the same direction.
An electric feeling started in my hand when mine touched hers en route to the sugar. It was strange, and yet very enjoyable at the same time. A little like someone was tickling the palms of my hands, except that I'm not ticklish, so rather it's what I would imagine it would feel like if someone were to tickle the palms of my hands.
By the time I had finished the lengthy inner monologue in my head, Asahina-san had pulled back her hand with a blush. Ah, that blush! It was like a opening rosebud, if I was to wax poetic, which I never do, of course. It spread from her adorable button nose clear across her cheeks and tinted the tips of her ears. It was so cute, in fact, that I wanted to elicit it again, so without further hesitation, deviation, or whatever that other thing is, I reached across the table top and took her hand in mine tenderly. After all, every boy knows that when a girl does that, it means she wants him to touch her, right?
Um...I have the feeling I'm incredibly mixed up, somehow...
"Go on," I prodded her gently, "tell me what's up."
She gazed back and forth between my eyes and her hand, and then decided to accept the situation, ostensibly for the purpose of it looking more natural as she leaned forward and began whispering.
"In essence, there are certain factions among the three groups which we represent: the aliens, the espers, and people like me. You see, not everyone agrees how best to deal with Haruhi Suzumiya. Some have even suggested killing someone close to her in order to see how she reacts and observe the eruption of data."
"No. Way." I deadpanned. "I never would have guessed."
Asahina-san nodded vigorously, oblivious to my heavy sarcasm. "Right now, as Koizumi-kun has informed the three of us, there are certain espers who have stolen a secret Chinese tool of the Time-travelers and intend to make sure that Haruhi Suzumiya comes into contact with it."
That was actually interesting.
"What kind of weapon?"
She jerked her head up and looked around, as though searching to make absolutely sure that no one was watching, and then lowered her head even closer to mine. I must admit I was thoroughly enjoying being this close to her, not to mention the fact that her other hand had come up to clasp mine urgently.
"The Won Ring of Pawah."
I wrinkled my brow. Was she kidding? "Serious? There's something like that out there?"
She nodded earnestly. "It's a weapon exclusive to the future, but somehow they slipped in through cracks of time and planted it in this world. Where it is now is completely unknown to even them; they were only able to send through the Ring with their limited power. But if Haruhi Suzumiya gets her hands on it, it may mean the end of the world as we know it."
I frowned. "So exactly what does the Ring do, anyway? Make you invisible?"
She shook her head sadly. "If only it were that simple..."
"Then what?" I was starting to lose patience.
She leaned forward and whispered into my ear, "It has the power to let the one who bears the Ring hear the thoughts of the people around them."
I pulled back in shock as it all made sense. I hardly noticed as Asahina-san let go of my hand with both of hers. I even forgot the coffee, black. Certainly, I wouldn't want Haruhi to hear what goes on inside my head. That would be horribly embarrassing. But beyond that, if she found out from any of the four of us that she was a "god", capable of creating and destroying the earth, mayhem would ensue. I could only imagine the consequences, thinking back to giant blue destructive forces in an enclosed space, hammering huge grey buildings into powder.
I took a deep breath as I leaned back against the plastic cushions of the seat, thinking deeply to myself. Asahina-san began pouring milk into her tea and stirring it, as though nothing had happened.
Suddenly I thought about what I could do if I was the Ring Bearer. Things like, know what material would be on the final exams, and actually figure out what the heck went on in a teenage girl's head. Useful things, like that. On the other hand, it seemed like the Ring was just floating out there, waiting to fall into someone's hands. It could end up with anyone. Heck, it could end up with my sister. That was an amusing thought. It could end up with my mother. That was a far less amusing thought.
Suddenly, Asahina-san's expression changed to her normal vacant, irresistible look. "Oh! Haruhi-san!" I spat out the mouthful of black coffee I'd just taken onto the table, partly because I hadn't yet added sugar, and partly because of what Haruhi would think when she saw Asahina-san and me together at a coffee-shop on a Sunday.
As the bell on the door of the coffee shop rang, admitting the brown locks and yellow hair-ribbon that we both knew so well, I stood up quickly, feeling guilty for the split second before pain shot through my head again. THOK. Why was it that all windows opened inward right now?
Haruhi looked as though she was trying to decide whether she should be angry or concerned right now, and settled on dismissive, as she marched up to our table and slammed her palms against it, causing the cups to jump, sloshing dark liquid over their sides into the saucers.
"Guess what?" she announced, and I fought the groan that arose in my throat, but lost, rubbing the back of my doubly-abused head in pain while I sat back down.
"What," I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.
"I've found some mysterious happenings."
"No. Way."
"Shut up, Kyon." At least Haruhi knew sarcasm when she heard it. "I've been listening around" (eavesdropping, I amended in my head) "and I heard the most interesting things. At first I couldn't believe it, but I asked around, and lots of people are saying it!"
"Saying what, Haruhi?"
She smirked as she leaned down and peered at me in the face. "People are hearing voices in their heads. That's mysterious, isn't it?"
I shot a glance over at Asahina-san, whose eyes were huge. I tried to play it off. "Actually, that's called schizophrenia, Haruhi. It's a mental disorder that..."
She waved a hand, cutting me off. "No, no, this is different. Like, this one girl in the first years, everyone thought she was totally sane, right? But then she suddenly became really paranoid and thought everyone was saying weird things about her. And then, two days later, she was back to normal. And then there was this other girl..."
It didn't take long for me and the red-haired girl on the other side of the excitedly gesturing Haruhi to figure out what was going on.
The Won Ring of Pawah had already started to move.
Author's Notes: Okay, this isn't a Lord of the Rings cross-over, I swear. (Not that the Ring is even of the same type, but...). Regarding those of you who have told me that I should watch the second season, thank you! I may do that in the future, but right now I don't want to muck up this plot by knowing what happens next. But I will try to get around to it!
Oh, and for the record, I've managed to misspell "traveler" every single time I've written it, except for the one just stated. I always, always type "traveller". Why the heck is that?