Author's Note: Thank you for coming by and reading. Please feel free to write to me either in a review or PM how you feel about my story, if there are any problems or issues or things you'd like to point out. I am always striving for improvement. Have a great day, and enjoy!


One Thousand and Counting

Chapter 1:

As the last day of summer progressed, the pain at my stomach grew, as though the proverbial Ouroboros was eating at me while it still ate its tail. The afternoon came and went, as I reviewed this morning, the ache growing.

The group had gathered together at the same cafe we had gathered at for centuries. I watched as Haruhi walked out of the café and I forlornly begged my legs to work, demanded my brain to think of something, anything to keep this cycle from continuing.

Something tickled at the back of my mind. I considered my summertime homework, and was about to shout at our prison keeper, demanding that she help me finish, but... something about the idea seemed futile. Déjà vu again, and I stayed seated. It was useless. It wasn't that I couldn't stop Haruhi. It was that I couldn't keep her going. She was intent on running through the same fifteen days. I just couldn't sense anything that could be done.

As I stared miserably at my empty glass of milk, Koizumi's smile drifted towards his phone as he worked the keys. Miss Asahina was slumped, her head resting on her crossed arms, which rested on the table. Eventually, the impetus to stay was eroded, and I stood, bidding everyone farewell.

I went home, where I find myself now, miserable and restless in my bed. I've been here all day, since yesterday's failure destined meeting at the cafe.

My annoying little sister cheerfully proclaimed dinner in fifteen minutes. I suddenly found the prospect of eating my last meal with my family pointless and distasteful.

I found my phone in my hand and I searched through the contacts. The name stopped on the name of the last person member of the club. I stared at the name for a long time. Yuki Nagato hadn't said anything that last meeting with the group. She simply stared at the wall opposite. Utterly composed and stoic, I wondered if I had imagined the deep depression I had sensed earlier that week.

Not entirely of my own volition, I pressed the Call button. Resolved that what's done was done, I held the phone to my ear and listened to the ringing. It rang again and again. I wondered if Yuki was out, and wondered where she might go. I was about to hang up, when I heard someone pick up.

The soft sound of breathing came from the phone, and I, suddenly nervous, said, "Hey, Nagato. Its, ah, me."

There was a pause. A long pause. I was suddenly stricken with the idea that this was a mistake, and I had been about to stammer an apology when she finally said, "I know."

Not sure what was going on, I said, "Well, I had just been wondering if you wanted to go get food or something. To celebrate or, err, mourn really our, uh... you know this was a dumb idea. I'm sorry. I'll, uh, see you to-" I cut myself off from saying anymore. I don't even know what I was doing.

Ostensibly, I suppose I thought I was trying to reach out to someone who might understand the pain in my gut, though I now realized how utterly stupid the idea was. Nagato had been through so much worse than I had. She remembered everything. Trying to compare our suffering was like trying to steer Jupiter's orbit with the mass of a walnut.

Just as I said, "I'll see you," she spoke, "Let's go."

More time passed as I stared in stunned silence, "What?"

More time has passed in silence between us than had words, but she finally repeated. "Let's go. Meet me here."

I nodded, before forgetting that she couldn't see me, adding, "Alright. Be there in a few minutes."

I spared a few moments to apologize to my family for skipping out suddenly, though I hardly doubted it would matter if they were angry at me tonight. Come tomorrow, it wouldn't mean a thing.

I jumped on my bike and headed to Nagato's apartment.

She was waiting for me there when pedaled my way up to her apartment building. She was wearing her school outfit as always, waiting for the first day of fall classes that would never come.

I would have said there was absolutely nothing notable about her current expression, but her eyes were wide and watched me as I approached, glinting in the light. I wondered if that was something to do with her alien nature, or if I was just reading into it too much.

I came to a stop before her, and we stared at each other. I at her in curiosity and concern, and her at me in inscrutable focus.

After a few moments, I finally asked, "So… what do you want to eat?"

She shook her head minutely, which I took to meaning that she didn't have any preference.

I waited a moment before asking, "Is there anything good around here?"

She didn't respond this time, just watching me, as if trying to figure me out.

This was even more awkward than the first time we had ever been in the club room together. Finally, I said, "I think I saw a fast food place back the way I came. Would that be okay?"

I didn't make the suggestion because I was broke or anything, though my savings did take a beating from the week's penalties. Trying to get Yuki to express something as simple as a suggestion was like trying to find the Higgs Boson with only a few rocks to pound together.

"That's fine," she finally said, after much deep thought. I got down off my bike and we began to walk back towards the restaurant I passed.

After locking my bike up to the stand beside the door, I took my place in line after Nagato. She stared up at the menu as if it were a piece of post-modern art waiting to be examined and dissected. I wondered if she had ever been here before, given its relative location to her apartment.

Yuki gave another minute head shake, "No, I have not."

She reached the front of the line and stated her order, a number one combo, with nothing extra.

Before the alien could pull out her wallet, I said, "No, I got this."

"No, it's fine," she rebutted, still reaching for her money.

I put my hand on her shoulder. "No, really. I want to get this. It's the least I could do after all you have done." I hadn't been able to buy her the mask from the Bon Dance festival and, as scary as it sounds, I probably failed to do that thousands of times by now.

I was a little worried about having gone too far by touching her. She went unnaturally still as I did. The cashier still had his management-enforced smile on, though he did look a little concerned.

After a few endless moments, she acquiesced, "Alright," and put her wallet away.

I made my order, feeling courageous by ordering this season's bizarre milkshake flavor, and took our number. Yuki waited for me to pick a spot and I went for a relatively isolated corner, so we could talk. Or so that I could talk to her, at least. I was a little unsure if the exchange was going to be equal.

We sat quietly while our order was being worked. I tried not to stare at her, glancing around the room, studying the receipt, and looking out the front window to see if my bike was untouched.

Yuki simply stared at me without saying a word.

Finally, my eyes fell back to her, and I asked, "So, you said you hadn't been here before?"

She shook her head, eyes closed and hair bobbing in the blissfully air-conditioned room.

I nodded, "Not a fan of fast food?"

She hesitated, "I have never tried it outside of time spent with Haruhi Suzumiya."

I was a little amazed at that, asking, "Not even after all this time? You don't… try something new in each iteration, just in case?" I couldn't seriously believe that she didn't try to do anything new during these past fifty thousand weeks.

Surprisingly, she wasn't quite as emotionless as I was expected. "My purpose is to observe." The faintest hint of annoyance was in her voice. This must have been her equivalence to howling furious rage.

I nodded, about to reply, when our number was called. I stood up to get our food, and returned in quick order.

Yuki stared at the food I put in front of her. I took a sip of my milkshake and regretted my adventurism. Cucumber and raspberries were surely components to Mary Shelley's monster.

Finally, I continued, "I was trying to think of something new. I almost suggested we do our summer homework before classes start. I probably should have tried, huh?"

Yuki meticulously unwrapped her burger, saying tonelessly, "Completing summer homework has been attempted four thousand, three hundred fifty-two times."

I winced, chewing on a fry before prompting, "I hate to ask, but what else have we tried in desperation?"

Yuki, as graceful as any emperor's daughter, placed her napkin, drink and food in order, before answering. "Declaring another search for non-human life forms in the city has been tried six hundred, seventy-seven times. You have declared your romantic interest in Haruhi Suzumiya seventy-nine times. Itsuki Koizumi has declared his interest fifty times. Mikuru Asahina has declared her interest in Haruhi Suzumiya seven times. You have explained to her that you were "John Smith" to her one hundred, four times. You have had everyone at the table explain what they were to her thirty times. Itsuki Koizumi has attempted to tell stories to her in the style of Shahrazad seven times. You have burst into anger and called her various derogatory terms for her childish behavior two times. "

I sat in dumb silence while she exposited all the ideas I had, and several I hadn't. Finally, as she began to eat, all I could say was, "I am surprised it has only been two times."

We ate in silence for a while, before I finally asked, "Are you going to be okay, Nagato?"

She masticated with a single minded dedication, staring at the condensation slowly running down my infernal milkshake. I continued eating while she spent time actually thinking about my question. I must have phrased it better than I had on the first day of this iteration.

She finally said, "Continued time in this endless loop is not conducive to my long term efficacy. However, as long as we are restricted by this incessant time loop, I am unable to restore equilibrium as errors continue to build up in my cache data." She stared, almost glared, at her fries as she slowly demolished them.

After a moment's hesitation, "Is there something I can do to help?"

She unhesitatingly replied, "You are doing it." She didn't look at me as she spoke. I could hear a softer edge in her voice as she answered, but her eyes were just as sharp as before.

"I… alright." I didn't want to ruin whatever I could be doing by asking, as if by observation alone it would escape as quickly as Heisenberg's electrons.

We finished our food and sat quietly for a moment. I finally broke the silence. "So, what now?"

Yuki stared at me like I was asking my home room class teacher how to tie my shoes again.

I grimaced, and tried again, "I mean, what now? If we were going back in time, we would be older than the Kamakura period of Japan. Do you have any ideas to break us out of this nightmare?"

She shook her head, looking glum.

I persisted, "Could you try to tell us earlier in the week? Maybe we could solve it if we had more time."

She spoke in a more depressed and listless, though still relatively flat, voice, "My purpose is to observe."

I nodded slowly. Gathering all the trash we had back onto our tray, we cleaned up after ourselves and walked back towards her apartment without words.

We stopped just outside her building's lobby door and she turned to face me.

We stood staring at each other for a little time, before I finally asked. "How many times have I had this conversation before?"

She, with almost the slightest bit of awe, said, "Never before has this event occurred."

I nodded, contemplating that. "Well, when… I mean, if we repeat the cycle again, whether it helps you or not, I wouldn't mind coming out to meet you in another cycle."

Yuki stood stoically for a moment, before saying, almost inaudibly, "Me too."

There wasn't much else to say, so I nodded to her, "Alright. May the next thousand years of summer never come. Good night, Yuki."

I rode off back towards my house. I am pretty certain that Yuki Nagato watched me until I was out of sight.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted, and went straight to bed.


It was the morning of August eighteenth. I have the strangest feeling of having forgotten something extremely important and also the strongest sense of déjà vu. Without even thinking about it, I pulled my swim trunks and a towel out and put them on my desk. I had a feeling I would need them later.