To begin with, I feel it necessary to say the following: If I discover that anyone other than myself has read this, then I would probably have little recourse but to murder you, dear reader, where you stand. I write this down not because I wish for anyone else to read it, only because if I don't do so then the events of the last week will build up within my memory and most surely drive me irreversably insane. Perhaps I already am. I did just threaten murder on a hypothetical reader of whom I know not the identity, which is hardly the action of a sane and reasonable person. I have also done so without an introduction, though anyone that has discovered this almost certainly knows who I am already. Everybody I know calls me Kyon, to the point it may as well be my actual name. In case the person that regrets this nickname and wishes that everybody would call him by his real name is not the one reading this, please put this journal back where you found it. Please. This is private. For me alone. I shall tolerate no such invasion into my privacy, and I doubt that anyone else ought to either.
That said, let us cut to the heart of the matter. I could perhaps be considered a rather average teenage boy, nothing truly remarkable about me. I excel in no particular area, be it grades or athletics or even in matters less mundane than such things. Yet in spite of that, I have had quite the year. Oh yeah, quite the year. More fun than I could've imagined, and more insane than should be possible. The details of these are unimportant, save of course for what I am about to explain. Then again, I am not quite certain why I feel the need to explain it to you, as surely only I, the one so irritatingly referred to as Kyon, should be reading this for any reasonable length. Yes? Well, perhaps on reading it, you will come to the conclusion that this is some form of fiction that I have constructed. A short work based on real people and real events within my own life. This may well be for the best, unless of course you are one of those that knows better who will see through such deception straight away. There is another matter to consider - that if it is a fictional account, it says a great deal about the directions my imagination takes to form such a tale as this. Whether taken seriously or not, if the wrong person finds this and reads it all the way through... I shudder to think of my future. And the world's future too. That may seem complicated, but... all shall be explained soon enough. I hope to your personal satisfaction, dear hypothetical reader.
As I said, I am unremarkable. Like most, I wish there was something special and unknown in the world, but recognise that this is a childish fantasy. Or that is how I used to think before meeting with one Haruhi Suzumiya. She sits behind me in class, and had something of a reputation for unusual activity even before entering high school. You see, it all comes down to human psychology. Most people don't quite understand what big numbers mean. Ask someone to imagine three tennis balls, and they can do so. Ask them to imagine a hundred and things get a little bit tricky. Ask them to imagine a million and all you get in return is a blank stare. People just can't deal with it, or so I was told by an associate - I hesitate to use the word friend - of both myself and Haruhi. That's the key problem, you see. Haruhi does understand what big numbers represent, in part because there is probably nothing on this world that she doesn't excel in. One day she was taken to a baseball game by her parents, saw the vast crowds, and it all hit her at once just how insignificant a single solitary person was in the midst of all that. Too many people exist in this country alone for any one of them to be truly unique, special, brilliant. So she decided... I'll look for something else. I'll look for the extraordinary, I'll hunt down the bizzarre, and... after that, I dont' know what she'd do exactly. Part of her obviously doesn't quite believe such things exist because rationally they cannot. In any event, following that game she started looking for excitement in her life resulting in the unusual behaviour mentioned previously. Acquiring many boyfriends, dumping each within a week. One even within minutes. Getting a high school student to paint strange symbols on the ground to tell aliens "I am here". More details on that forthcoming, though on second thought it might prove a bit of a distraction to the tale I intend to write... this is already getting a bit longer than first anticipated.
The point is, there's nothing Haruhi won't do. She is energetic, hyperactive, hyperimaginitive and has all the same determination as a mountain. No, come to think, even if not for certain other elements to her, Haruhi could surely move a mountain by determination alone. That's just who she is. To say that she is frustrating to know her is an understatement. The girl is a force of nature, and that's not just a metaphor. You see, Haruhi Suzumiya holds the distinctive ability to alter the world on a whim. She does not know that she can do this, and I cannot be alone in having been woken up at times in the middle of the night having thought suddenly of what may happen if she ever did discover this. But she can regardless. That is the true terror that lies behind what is already a terrifying personality. Either alone is dangerous, but mixed in such a manner creates something far worse, far more... I think the best word is nightmarish. It may not be sufficient.
This point is crucial to the tale, but there are three other players who must also have explanations and introductions. These shall be kept a bit more... brief. You see, Haruhi sought the creation of a club which would permit her to have fun and look for strange things. Not finding one that suited her standards at school, she made one. As there was a single member of the literary club, we - for I was the first recruit whatever feelings I had on the matter - absorbed that club, and all its resources into ourselves like The Blob. That single member was Yuki Nagato, a quiet girl that spends much of her time reading. She happened to be an alien sent to Earth to keep an eye on Haruhi. Our next unwilling recruit was Mikuru Asahina, who is perhaps the most adorable creature to walk upon this planet. I speak in both terms of personality and appearance. She also happens to be a time traveller, sent back here for reasons likely related to Haruhi. Ah, but she doesn't even really know or understand the full reason herself. I mentioned the last member earlier. Koizumi. He was recruited as "the mysterious transfer student", but as you may have guessed he is already more than that. Oh yes. An esper, whose job is to - ah, I do not believe it really comes up in this tale. All you need to know about him for now is that he is an esper with certain powers he can use at a certain time. The rest will become apparent when it needs to.
That's that five of us. The SOS Brigade, and don't bother asking why it's called that. Of those five I am the only one that could be considered normal. I hold no powers, no special abilities, have no secret bosses ordering me around. Notice the word secret there in front of the word "bosses". I do have a boss. Haruhi. And she is the source of my current route through hell. That's hardly a new thing. Even so, on this occasion I do not feel it would be proper for me to turn to the others for assistance in this matter. It is... embarassing. Personal. It may even be merely my imagination at work, but where Haruhi is concerned that is doubtful. Thus, I write it down. It must be expressed somehow, even if I cannot say anything to anyone. This is truly the only way to acheive this. The only, only way.
Koizumi is something of a self described expert on our resident God. He kind of has to be. Part of his job as an esper entails understanding and reacting to her mood. For some reason, he likes to tease me with the notion that Haruhi is interested in me. Not interested in the manner that I am a fellow member of the SOS Brigade, but in a more romantic sense. Until a week ago... I didn't quite believe that to be the case at all. But with each passing day, it convinces me more and more. Koizumi believes that she is intentionally ignoring her feelings, not acting out on them, perhaps even ignoring or not properly understanding what they are. It's ideas such as this that make me think, make me theorise that she is the one responsible for my current problem. This dilemma is her doing with that weird reality altering power she has. Every day, indeed every night, it chips away a little extra piece of me a little bit at a time... How to explain it.
As my explanation above of Haruhi's personality may well have indicated, I am not a big fan of her personality. Certainly, since the Brigade was formed my life has become more interesting and fun. How could it not be, with the existance of aliens, time travellers and espers? Just one alone would - but that is a diversion from the intended statement. Fun though life may have become, Haruhi is difficult to be around. This is in spite of her academic excellence, her athletic abilities and most crucially to this tale, her physical figure. If she kept silent, Haruhi would be the most desirable girl in the student body save for Asahina, who stands head and shoulders above the rest. Still, second place is not all that bad a place to be.
You now appreciate the two assertions made about this strange and active girl, yes? Physically, very desirable. Personality, lousy. The kind not accustomed to making friends and keeping them. Imagine you know such a person, and have to interact with them on a daily basis. Do you have such an image in your mind? You do? Yes? Okay, then I wish for you to imagine something else.
Imagine that every night for the last week, your dreams were of nothing but that particular attractive person. And that they were... erotic in content. Downright pornographic, in fact. Each night increasing in intensity, like a neverending assault. Each night, I somehow manage to fall for the notion that this dream is reality. Even when "dream logic" quite clearly applies, I think it's all real right up until the moment I wake up with perfect memory of going to sleep before the events of the dream. The tell is the fact that I don't remember how the dream begins. Nobody remembers that. I wonder why.
Do you see why I can't tell the others? It might be something, or it might be nothing at all. Just my subconscious trying to tell me something, and that is a thought my conscious mind dare not finish. Of course, just writing down the summary of events is particularly... unfulfilling as regards saving my sanity. I must go into yet further detail, explain the depths of what I have gone through. For that summary above misses out on quite a few essential details...
Fri Dec 03 02:53:40 2010
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