It seemed like my horrible premonition had come true.
After class, Haruki didn't disappear instantly from the classroom as usual. This time, he picked me up off the ground as though I weighed nothing, and proceeded to carry me (kicking and yelling) through the corridors, up the stairs, and all the way to just in front of the door leading to the rooftop.
This is not what I meant when I said I wanted to be swept of my feet by a handsome prince. I don?t even want to think about what the rest of the class must have thought?
The door here is usually locked, and the staircase above the fourth floor seems to have been used as a storage room by the Art Club. Giant canvases, near broken picture frames, statues of war gods with missing noses and such are all piled up in this little staircase, making what is supposed to be a narrow space even narrower.
What is he trying to do to me by bringing me here? Is he going to make me his bride? I?m not an alien! Put me down!
He did.
"Help me out."
...Haruki said with both his hands on my shoulders, looking straight into my eyes. This feels like a confession.
Great, now I?m blushing.
"Help me make my new club!"
"Okay, wait a minute. Why on earth should I help you make something you just thought up five minutes ago?"
"I?ll need to secure a room for the club as well as members, so I?ll need you to find out what paperwork the administration needs."
He wasn't even listening to me!
I grabbed Haruki?s hands and removed them from my shoulders.
"What exactly is this club going to be about?"
"What does that matter? The most important thing right now is to make the club!"
I really doubt that the school would agree with you about that.
"Listen up, Kyon! After school today, you?ll go and find out what needs to be done, and I'll go and find a room for the club. Okay?"
If I had replied with a ?NO!? he?d probably have done something horrible to me. While I was hesitating on how to answer, Haruki had already turned and ran down the stairs, leaving a disoriented female student standing all alone on the dust-filled staircase.
"... But I haven't even agreed to help..."
Sigh. Saying that to a plaster statue is pointless. I could only drag my heavy feet back to the classroom, thinking about how I?d explain the previous scene.
Requirements for organizing an "association":
Five or more members. A sponsor teacher, club name, chairperson for the club, and club activities/goals summary are required?which must then receive approval from the Student Council Executive Committee. The club's activities must fit in with the school philosophy of creativity and vivaciousness. Based on the activities' records and results, the Executive Committee would debate on whether to promote the association to a "study group." Furthermore, as an association, the school will not provide any funding.
Searching for the requirements was easy?they?re listed in the back of the student textbook.
Finding members is easy too; we could just grab anyone to make up the numbers, so that won't be a problem. A sponsor teacher is harder to find, but I think I can manage that. As for the name, something inoffensive and ordinary would do. And the chairperson for the club is, no doubt, Haruki himself.
I don?t think, though, that our club activities are going to fall under the heading of "creativity and vivaciousness."
Of course, it's not as if Haruki cares about the rules at all.
As the bell rang for the end of classes, Haruki showed off his ogre-like strength again as he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. It took great effort to make sure that I didn't leave my school bag in the classroom.
"Where are we going?!"
I asked because, well, I'm normal after all. That, and I was panicking at being kidnapped in such a way again.
"Our clubroom!"
Haruki, so full of energy that the people in front of us moved out of the way, answered with that short sentence, then shut his mouth.
Put me down! Your hand is dangerously close to a place that will get you slapped!
After we exited the first floor hallway, we went into another building and up the stairs. We walked into a dark hallway and at its center, Haruki stopped and finally put me down.
There is a door in front of us.
Literature Club
The crooked nametag is pasted on the door.
"Here it is!"
Without even knocking, Haruki opened the door and walked into the classroom without any consideration. I followed him inside.
It?s a surprisingly large room. Maybe it just seems that way because it only contains a rectangular table, metal chairs, and a bookshelf? Little cracks on the ceiling and the walls showed how ancient this building is.
As if he was included with the room itself, a skinny male student sat alone in a metal chair, reading a big hardcover novel.
"From this day forth, this room shall be ours!"
Haruki crossed his arms as he announced the above formally. His face was shining with that fiery, energetic smile.
If only he?d show that smile in class...
Of course, there?s no way I?d say that thought out loud.
"Wait just a minute. What is this place?"
"This is the Cultural and Arts club building. It has art and music rooms for the Art Club and the Orchestra Club. Clubs and associations without a regular clubroom all hold their activities here in this building, known as the ?Old Complex?. And this classroom happens to belong to the Literature Club."
Did he memorize all that?
"But then what about the Literature Club?"
"After all the third year students graduated this spring, the club had zero members. As no new members were recruited, the club was going to be canceled.?
But then what about the guy in the corner?
?By the way, he's a first year who's their only new member."
"Then they haven't been canceled yet!"
"Bah, same difference! A club with only one member is the same as a club with none."
You? idiot! We?re going to take over other people's clubrooms now?
I took a quick look at the Literature Club student.
He wore glasses and had short hair. Haruki was being very loud, but the student didn't even lift his head. Apart from occasionally flipping the pages with his fingers, he appeared stationary, completely ignoring our presence. Another strange one?
I lowered my voice and asked Haruki:
"So what about him, then?"
"Oh, him? He said it doesn?t matter!"
"What? Really?"
"I asked him already at lunch time. I said I needed him to lend me the room and he said 'go ahead'. He?s fine with it as long as he can read his books here in peace. Now that you mention it, though, he is pretty weird."
You?re one to talk, Haruki!
This time, I observed him more carefully.
His skin was pale, his face expressionless. His fingers were moving rhythmically like a machine. He wore very thick, square glasses.
He looked like some kind of living doll; the ones crazed toy makers bring to life.
Yeah, he?s definitely a weirdo.
Maybe he noticed my intrusive observation, because the student suddenly lifted his head and pushed the bridge of his glasses up with his index finger.
His deep-colored eyes stared at me from under those thick lenses. Neither his eyes nor his lips showed any expression at all, like his face was a mask. He?s quite a bit different from Haruki?his face fundamentally shows no sign of emotion. It?s kind of scary, really.
"Nagato Yuuki."
His tone suggested that most people would forget his name within three seconds of hearing it.
Nagato Yuuki stared at me for a moment; then as if losing interest, he turned his attention back to his book.
"Hey, Nagato-kun," I called out, "Haruki here wants to use your club room for an I-have-no-idea-what-club. Is this all right with you?"
"Yes."
Nagato's gaze never left his book once.
"But, um, we might be trouble for you."
"No matter."
"You might even get thrown out."
"Feel free."
He answered my questions immediately, but he still showed no expression whatsoever. I guess he really doesn?t care after all.
Haruhi shrugged at me, then grinned.
"Right, then it's decided!?
He sounds hyper, which gives me a bad feeling. How much caffeine have you had today, Haruki?
"From now on, we will meet in this room after class. Be sure you show up!"
He said this with a smile as brilliant as the crescent moon. Reluctantly, I nodded my head.
If I don?t agree, he might just decide to carry me off to a love hotel or something equally horrible.