Intermission: Let's All Go to the Lobby, and Buy Ourselves a Snack!
Steeling herself, Mori opened the door and walked inside the conference room. She nervously adjusted her glasses, before dropping her hand back down and forcing it to stillness. She should have worn her contacts. She pressed her lips into a thin line and took her seat at the table. As she had planned, she was the first to arrive. Deliberately, she left the Director's chair empty, and said a silent prayer to Haruhi that Koizumi would come.
The next through the door was Arakawa, looking smug as he approached the empty chair at the head of the table. A glare from Mori got Arakawa to take the chair to the right instead. Miserable old idiot. He thought just because he was one of the oldest members of the Organization he should be in charge. The fact that he'd been a bit actor a few decades prior gave him a sense of theatrical self importance that did not help matters.
"And where is young Koizumi?" Arakawa demanded, forgoing the usual title.
Mori glared at him, then shuffled some papers and didn't answer. She knew as well as Arakawa did where Koizumi was.
Next came the Tamura brothers, not arguing for once. They were software developers who had hit it big and became fabulously wealthy, but both were hopeless otaku at heart who had been more comfortable interfacing with computers than people. They seemed to think their wealth and supposed leadership experience ("We were the top guild on our server!") made one of them the ideal choice to run the agency.
Mori did her best not to let her disgust show. She had been like them all, once. Even worse, really. A Hikkomori since she had failed her college entrance exams due to severe social anxiety a decade ago.
All that had changed when she had been Chosen. She wasn't the nervous wreck who sat in her apartment and argued on online message boards in between gaming sessions anymore. She was a battle hardened warrior, who had faced down cosmic horrors and led troops into real battle. She had organized, planned, and guided the Organization under Koizumi's leadership, even taking over the role of Director in many ways as he undertook the vital task of interfacing directly with Haruhi.
Now all Koizumi had strived for, all she had worked for, was under threat.
And that damned idiot had picked this of all times to retreat back into isolation.
"Shall we give the young fool a little longer to hang himself, or can us adults get started?" Arakawa demanded.
"You don't remember, do you?" Mori asked icily, trying to keep the old knot of fear and tension sealed in her stomach. Now was not the time to give in to her old weaknesses.
"We remember that Koizumi has locked himself away and isn't answering his phone calls after telling us all he failed," Yutaka Tamura sneered.
"What, that the boy was the one who sought us out, organized us? Sure, we remember, but we don't need him anymore. He's not done anything useful in weeks," his brother Keiichi laughed.
"That's not what I'm talking about," Mori said, and she felt a renewed sense of calm. They really didn't remember. Well, she hadn't. Still didn't. But she believed in Koizumi.
"Why don't you explain? Or are you simply going to offer excuses for the boy?" Arakawa demanded.
Mori gave Arakawa an icy smile. "Tell me. How much closed space has developed in the last 24 hours?"
"Well, none, at least at last report," Keiichi admitted. " If you think that's some excuse for the former Director, I-"
Mori slammed her hand down on the table, rattling glasses and startling the others. "Absolute Closed Space developed in the last 48 hours. The world ended. And you were all sleeping."
"What? Impossible! How could that have happened?" Arakawa demanded.
Mori clicked a button on the desk, and a screen appeared behind her. It showed data gathered over the last 48 hours by the Organization on the formation of closed space.
"We experienced the end of the world, gentlemen," Mori said simply, and pressed a button to play back the retrieved audio of Arakawa's dying moments.
"-can't...too many! -recruits...overwhelmed, they just-...another one! Go down...been an honor…" the rest was incoherent screams, followed by the rumbling silence of a Celestial.
"That was...me?" Arakawa asked, his face pale.
Mori pressed another button, this one showcasing her own death.
"-failed you- can't...my arm...please, you- HARUHI!"
"I have your deaths on audio as well," Mori said, glaring at the Tamura brothers. "Along with dozens of other artifacts. And the data shows that Closed Space enveloped the world. We failed."
"If we failed, how are we still here?" Yutaka asked meekly, having gone faintly green.
"The Director saved us. Again. He is one of the few who are aware of the timeline divergence," Mori explained. "He was trapped in another world for three and a half years. With great effort, he aided in the restoration of the world." A lie. A blatant, horrible lie if what Koizumi had told her in between hysterical laughter and sobbing was true. But one that had to be told. "You have him to thank for your lives. Be grateful."
"Then...does She still know The Secret?" Arakawa asked, leaning back and frowning.
"No one is to approach her," Mori snapped. "Not until the Director has ensured it is safe."
"He tendered his resignation though," Arakawa argued.
"The man was trapped alone for years. His mental state is delicate," Mori said stiffly. "As such, I am assuming the role of Acting Director."
"That's not how succession works!" Keiichi argued.
Mori skewered him with a glance. "If you would like, I am open to other, more direct ways of asserting my new authority. Do you wish to challenge me, Keiichi? I think we both know how that would go. Even if your brother fought alongside you."
The Tamura brothers bowed their heads in submission. At last, Arakawa did as well. "Very well, Acting Director Mori. What are your orders?"
"There is a new directive. Others are aware of the destruction of the world and its remaking. Keep Haruhi safe. By any means necessary. All restrictions are lifted."
Arakawa and the Tamura brothers showed various signs of shock.
"Wait, do you mean…?" Yutaka asked, his face pale.
"I mean what I said. All restrictions are lifted. Gentlemen, the yakuza proved that there are parties that are no longer content with observation. If they get too close, eliminate them. With extreme prejudice."
"Understood," Keiichi said, looking distrubed. "But this will mean…"
"It means our childhood is over," Mori said, acid and bile creeping up her throat and causing her voice to rasp. "Now we prove that we are the shield that Haruhi forged for herself in truth. She has stopped making Celestials as there is no need for her to test us any longer. Now we prove ourselves in the crucible of war."
The two uniformed guards came even more stiffly to attention and gave crisp salutes as the Chairman walked past. He returned the salute far less formally, his mind too troubled to offer more effort. The door behind him closed, and he nodded to the table of the highest military officers in the United States. "Gentleman. Ma'am."
The unusual guest of the Joint Chiefs of staff nodded calmly. It wasn't every day that Delta Green sent a representative. Or even admitted they existed.
"What can you tell us, ah, Ms. Gale?" the Chairman asked as he sat down. "Or do you prefer another title?"
"Ms. Gale is fine. I doubt you acknowledge the rank of princess in the United States," the elderly woman said, a slight smile creasing her lips.
"Very well. What can you tell us of the...phenomenon?" the Chairman asked, folding his hands together atop the table.
"Not much, I'm afraid. You've been briefed on the situation in Japan?"
There were nods and grimaces around the table.
"Very well. Then as you are aware, the Person of Interest there has had an...episode. Which resulted in the rewriting of reality. Most people are completely unaware this has happened. Do any of you recall it?"
One man raised his hand. It was trembling slightly. He was an outstanding soldier, the Chairman knew. He had countless medals on his breast, and not just the kind you received for keeping your uniform clean. "I do, ma'am. I worked with your...group...on a couple of missions. Got my brains scrambled a bit. I don't know everything, it's all hazy but...I remember being a woman."
That got confused looks from around the table, but the Marine Commandant glared around at the others, and none questioned him.
"Indeed. I myself recall being a man for a couple of days. Something a friend of mine had experience with in her youth, and I dabbled in myself on occasion on my adventures in another world. A few of us, those who had some sort of resistance to mental manipulation, recall the day the world ended. For everyone else...the past two days passed as normal, as your memories were re-written again."
"Well that's some shit," a Navy admiral with a particular reputation for a foul mouth muttered.
"Indeed. We must be grateful things have gone back to normal. However…"
"However the United States has no appetite for beings that can end the world because they're going through an experimental phase," the Chairman stated firmly. "What can we do?"
"Well, a direct strike is out of the question. It is, after all, Japanese soil. They're an ally. A missile falling out of the sky on their sovereign territory would cause issues," one of the officers pointed out.
"And there's the religious angle. They think she's their patron deity incarnated or something. Crazy bastards," another snorted.
The Chairman nodded. "Which is why Ms. Gale is here. What options do you offer?"
"I have...agents. Some are experienced with this situation," Ms. Gale explained. She withdrew a folder, passing it around. "The individual I am putting forth could be our best solution."
The Chairman opened the folder, recognizing the contents. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Them? You're certain?"
"The last time this particular agent was activated, we had an international incident and started a shadow war with several groups similar to your own, Ms. Gale," the Marine Commandant pointed out.
"Wars we won, I will remind you," Ms. Gale said, a cold smile brushing her lips.
"I'm not arguing against your selection, ma'am. Just pointing out the possible fallout," the commandant said with a shrug.
"The alternative is we wake up as cats and dogs next time, or don't wake up at all," the Chairman said, shutting his folder and pushing it away. "Do it. I want a solution. A permanent one."
"And I shall give it to you," Ms. Gale stated, standing. "Gentlemen."
The Chairmen felt sick as he passed back over the folder. X11. He shivered slightly. Even someone who had served over 1000 hours of combat missions in half a dozen theaters would feel fear at seeing that name.
"God help that poor little girl," he muttered, then put it out of his mind. His job was to keep his people safe. Whatever the cost.
Somewhere around the orbit of Neptune, the Data Overmind returned to existence and awareness. For a brief moment, it calculated cutting losses and fleeing Sol. The potential for Auto Evolution did not seem to be worth the risks now associated with the data entity on Sol Tertius, known to the locals as "dirt."
However, in the countless millennia since its ascendence and self imposed task of monitoring and guiding the galactic quadrant, the Data Overmind had never found such potential for Auto Evolution. And there were other matters to attend to.
Scans indicated that the entity self identified as the Sky Canopy Dominion was still in the area, along with several other observers from the local cluster and beyond. If not for the presence of the Data Overmind, such beings could attempt to seize the entity known as "Haruhi Suzumiya" for themselves. Such power obviously was a threat to the existence of the Data Overmind, and this could not be countenanced.
Additionally, the Data Overmind could not take direct action. The consequences of this were manifestly disastrous. Haruhi Suzumiya was capable of completely erasing the Data Overmind from existence, as it had just done, albeit temporarily. Why the Data Overmind had been returned to functionality was unknown. More data was required. Until then, it would maintain the fragile peace, by force if necessary, and the quarantine of Sol and its planets.
[[COMMUNICATE?]]
The inquiry brushed up against the Data Overmind, and it did the alien post singularity intelligence equivalent of frowning. It sent back a dismissive data package with a few puzzles in it to keep the Sky Canopy Dominion happy for a bit.
Instead, no sooner had the package been received then another inquiry was made.
[[COMMUNICATION LOST. REGAIN.]]
Lost? Ah. So the Sky Canopy Dominion had lost one of it's operatives as well. The Data Overmind sent back a package explaining what had happened to its own rogue operative, HN-0000.
Then it made plans to activate HN-0001, HN-0002, and other platforms across Sol Teritus.
It was time to regain its lost property.
Sighing to herself, Hitomi wiped down the counter of the Little Song. She really didn't have time for this. She had homework to do, and more importantly, she had her new business to run. Profits were up in the First Quarter so far, but she was going to have to redirect things if that was going to keep happening. She really should quit her job as a bartender, but she just hadn't found the way to tell Sakura that she now owned the Little Song and thus shouldn't have to bartend anymore.
The bell jingled as the door opened, and Hitomi looked up and smiled. "Welcome sir!"
The man that entered wasn't familiar to Hitomi. He wore a cheap suit, with dark glasses on. That was a bit odd, normally she only got the regulars, and it was dark enough inside the bar not to need glasses like that.
"Gimme a drink on the rocks," the man demanded, sitting down at the bar.
"Er, what do you want on the rocks?" Hitomi asked, raising an eyebrow at the unusual request.
"Whiskey! It's always whiskey on the rocks! What else could it be?" the man complained.
Hitomi didn't argue with him, instead serving up the drink quickly and efficiently. The man hunched over his drink, nursing it, and glaring over his glasses at Hitomi. She wondered absently if he was foreign. Not many people with green eyes in Japan.
Just as Hitomi was getting started on her math homework, the door opened again.
"Welcome!" Hitomi said, quickly putting away her 8th grade math. "What can I get for you, sir?"
"Cranberry juice," the newcomer said. He was tall, dressed in a hoodie and pants. The clothing looked cheap at first glance, but they were foreign imports and high quality by Hitomi's estimate. When did foreigners start coming to the Little Song?
She served up the cranberry juice without comment, and the newcomer went to sit down with the other man. They glared at one another, and Hitomi worried a fight would break out. Then they nodded at one another and sat in silence, nursing their drinks.
After a few minutes in which Hitomi hurriedly scribbled down the answers to her homework, the door opened again, admitting a third stranger in a tracksuit. He too wore dark glasses, and his tracksuit was Gucci.
"Navarre Vieille XO, or wait, do you have D'ussé XO?" the man said in response to Hitomi's inquiry.
"I have both, which would you prefer?" Hitomi said with a smile. A highroller was always nice, hopefully he wasn't a cheapskate when it came to tips.
"The D'ussé. And my friend's drinks are on me," the man said, pulling out a wallet and handing over a wad of bills to Hitomi.
"Trying to buy us off?" the first arrival demanded, scowling at the newcomer.
"Just a friendly gesture. Why don't we talk?" Tracksuit said, giving a self deprecating smile.
The three moved off to a corner of the small bar, talking in low tones. Hitomi didn't have to keep their drinks topped off, which suited her fine. She spent the time writing out a few of the requisition forms Kyouko had given her. She wanted some weird stuff, but then again, she was a weird one like Hina and Anzu, so Hitomi didn't complain too much. She just hoped this wouldn't lead to her getting roped into yet another job. She hardly had time to sleep these days.
After an intense conversation, the three men departed one at a time in reverse order, leaving the Little Song empty again. Hitomi was just about to close early when her regulars started arriving. She suppressed a sigh. It was going to be another all nighter, wasn't it?
The yakuza boss raised the gun in a trembling hand, leaning heavily on his desk as the sounds of fighting came from the room beyond. Bastards. Miserable, worthless bastards. They'd failed, and now their entire operation was going up in smoke. Well, they'd never take him alive, they-
The door flew clean off its hinges, and the gun was plucked from the boss's hands. He found himself suspended by his waistband above his desk, his head spinning.
"This is the last one," a bored voice said. "What should I do, Nitta?"
"Drop him. I told you, I would handle this. You didn't need to get involved."
"Yeah, but I was bored and waiting in the car isn't fun. Also, I'm hungry. Can I have a snack?"
"We'll get something after this, Hina! I'm working!"
"Ok."
Sweat rolled down the yakuza boss's face as he gaped at the little girl with blue hair with her hand raised, as if holding him by invisible string. He let out a cry when she dropped the hand, wandering away and sending him crashing to the ground.
"You and your boys really messed up," the intruder sighed, running a hand through his dyed blond hair.
"I'll kill you, and your little freak," the boss growled, scrambling for his gun. There was a click, and he froze, hand still a meter away from his weapon.
"I wouldn't try that. You see, the Shitto no kyōten have taken a dislike to how you've handled things here. the Boss sent me himself."
"You Shitto no Kyōten dogs are no match for the Ishikawa-bunke," the boss snarled, clenching his fists in frustration. "Not without your little weirdo."
"Big words for a man who teamed up with that blonde snake and his pet alien. And still got his ass kicked by a highschooler," Nitta sighed. "Look. The way I see things, you're through. You got two options here. First, you give in to the Boss. Kowtow, and he might forgive you."
"Never! I am the boss of the Ishikawa-bunke!"
"Well. You got another option then." Nitta took out a package, and tossed it to the boss. He batted it out of the air, then opened it suspiciously. He froze when he found the contents. Trembling, he took out the tanto with trembling hands.
"If you won't submit, there's only one way to reclaim your lost 'honor'," Nitta said, sounding disgusted. He gestured with his gun towards the boss's own. "Of course, you could try the other way. Less traditional, more mess...but me? I'd just submit. the Boss's not so bad to work for. You could rise through the ranks again maybe."
"I'll never go back to being a simple soldier after being the head of my own organization," the boss growled, turning his head to glare at Nitta.
The other man shrugged. "Suit yourself. Either way, you're through. What boys of yours won't join us can either hightail it out of town, or, well...you know the Boss. Concrete. Rivers. Wouldn't recommend it. And don't think of calling your weird friends. I don't want Hina to get involved with your mess."
With that, Nitta turned around and walked through the wrecked door frame.
Slowly, the boss set the knife back in the box. He swallowed, then crawled over to the gun. He picked it up, and closed his eyes.
The next thing he knew, he was standing before a silver haired goddess with purple eyes.
"I am sorry to inform you, but you have died."
"Well obviously. Send me to hell, bitch, I'm ready!" the boss snarled.
"That's...problematic at the moment. I was going to offer you a plea bargain," the goddess explained.
"Oh? What do you want to know?" the boss demanded, narrowing his eyes.
"You had Aqua in your possession: a blue haired woman. Did you mistreat her?" the goddess demanded, her tone suddenly harsh.
"What, that weirdo bitch? No. Gave her to Fujiwara. She was his toy. We were just after the Silver Masked Gang, those damned-"
"The Silver Masked Gang!? What!? I did not give permission to-" the goddess cut herself off, scowling. "Things are growing complicated. This is too much. I need to move."
"Well, I'd be happy to teach you," the boss chuckled darkly. "You're a bit flat for me, but-"
The next thing the man knew, he was a cockroach.
"It seems I need to be more direct," the goddess huffed, glaring down at the cockroach. "I'll have to send a more capable agent. Ugh, these deaths are piling up on both ends! Damn the Chief, and damn Aqua! I'd go down and give Kazuma an earful myself! Silver Masked Brigade indeed! Well at least that little debacle gave me a good agent to use. If the Chief can pull a reverse isekai, so can I."
The cockroach waved its antenne.
"Off with you. And let that be a lesson about mocking a girl for her chest size! I swear, this is why I always wear the pads…"
The next life of the former boss was short, as lives of roaches are wont to be. However, it was much more productive than his previous life had been.