The Sigh of Haruhi Suzumiya by Nagaru Tanigawa Read Free Book Online

cannot win against an anaconda, I couldn’t see Asahina ever winning.
    I knocked.
    “Come in!”
    A boisterous response from Haruhi. As I wondered about the contents of the paper bags I’d seen that morning, I opened the door and entered the room. The first thing I saw was, in fact, Haruhi’s triumphant face. However, I was pretty sick of that sight. With fervent ardor, I turned my attention to the person seated in the metal chair in front of Haruhi.
    A waitress sat there looking at me with teary eyes.
    “…”
    The waitress, hair disheveled, was doing an impression of Nagato being silent. Her head was drooped. Her full chestnut hair had been tied by Haruhi into two pigtails dangling behind her head. Oddly enough, Nagato was nowhere to be seen.
    “Well?” Haruhi asked me with a self-satisfied smirk. Why do you look like you had something to do with this? Asahina’s adorableness is her own…. Then again.
    Y’know? I think it looks nice. How does Asahina feel about it? Not that I have any objections…. But isn’t the skirt a tad too short?
    Asahina was as perfect a waitress as one hundred percent fruit juice is pure. Her clenched fists rested on her knees.
    You look so peculiarly perfect, like you’re dressed in tailor-made clothes. Which was why I spent a good thirty seconds staring in silence at Asahina before jumping when I was tapped on the shoulder.
    “Why, hello. I’m terribly sorry about yesterday. We were supposed to do a run-through of the script today, but I had them wrap things up early. I’m finding myself endlessly running around in circles.”
    Koizumi’s handsome, cheery face peered over my shoulder into the club room.
    “Oh?” He smiled merrily. “What do we have here?”
    Koizumi passed next to me and set his book bag on the table before sitting in one of the metal chairs. “It looks quite splendid on you, Asahina.”
    “We all know that already. What we don’t know is why a waitress is in this dirty little room that is neither a café nor a family restaurant.”
    “That’s because, Kyon,” Haruhi said, “Mikuru will be wearing this outfit in the movie.”
    “A maid won’t work?”
    “A maid’s job is to go to a rich person’s mansion and provide personal service. It’s different for a waitress. The goal there is to provide assorted services to an unspecified number of customers in a shop on a corner for seven hundred thirty yen an hour.”
    I’m not sure if that’s a good wage or not, but it’s not like Asahina is dressing up to serve in a mansion or work some part-time job. Maybe if Haruhi actually paid her.
    “Don’t sweat the small stuff! It’s all about feeling. I like how this feels.”
    Who cares about you? How does Asahina feel about this?
    “Su-Su-Suzumiya… This seems a little too small for me….”
    Asahina seemed quite concerned. She was incessantly tugging downward on the hem of her miniskirt. But her motions were too tantalizing. You realize that my eyes can’t help but be drawn there, right?
    “It’s just fine. A perfect fit.”
    I forced myself to look away and focused instead on Haruhi smiling like a colorful flower blooming in the jungle. Haruhi directed her eyes, always looking forward, at me.
    “The concept for our film”—she pointed to Asahina, curled up in a fetal position—“is this!”
    “This? Are we doing a documentary on the daily life of a girl working in a café?”
    “No. There isn’t anything fun about taking secret videos of Mikuru’s daily life. The only way you could ever get an interesting story out of filming someone’s daily life would be if it was about a person living an extremely eccentric life. Filming the daily life of an ordinary high school student would only be for self-satisfaction.”
    I fail to see how that would satisfy Asahina, and from an objective point of view, I’d think that self-satisfaction would be important in itself. Besides, Asahina’s daily life would actually be considered quite eccentric…