"So, you must be Nagato," a voice said behind me. A boys voice.
Tall, thin, at least sixteen years old and probably on his way to a senior high soon enough, with a sharp chin, cynical eyes and short brown bangs. I groaned to myself. Why were so many people bothering me today? Would I even get a lunch?
"Yes," I snarled,
"Good", he said. "You've met Haruhi, I take it?"
"Yes," I nodded again. I'm not going to be bothered by this crowd now, am I? I mean, I enjoyed the series, it certainly had it's pick me ups, but I wasn't exactly a subscriber to the whole Haruhism thing, preferring alcoholism, like most Irish animé fans.
"Alright, you need to know a few...things," he said, being very suspicious as he said it. He gave a quick, nervous glance over each shoulder, making sure no bogey man was about to jump him, before pulling me close, close enough to whisper secrets in my ear.
"What?" I snarled. Damn this was annoying
"I'm Kyonichi Haruhara, and you can probably guess why I got dragged into this too,"
And suddenly, I was intrigued. Like a lightswitch. His voice oozed irritation, like a creme-cake of annoyance and frustration that was being squeezed beneath an especially irritating jackboot.
"Kyon..."
"The one and only, Of course, a secret Pilot named Nagato is going to draw her own fair share of attention too, "
I looked up at him, near half a foot taller than me if not more,
"What's going on?"
A small spark of intuition told me I wasn't about to get a summary of an animé series.
"Haruhi Suzimiyah's real name is Sakura Ikazuchi. About six months ago, during the first of those robot attacks, her parents were killed. She left school for a week, and when she came back, she insisted we call her Haruhi. She insisted she was Haruhi. She'd always been a fan of the books, so she knows everything about Haruhi. Haruhi consumed her mind"
He sighed, rubbing his templed.
"She dragged her ersatz-SOS brigade together. All of us are linked by our names. Me, as Kyon, Kimiko Asahina as Mikuru, Yuki Mutsu, as Yuki Nagato and Itsuki Koizumi as... well that one's obvious I suppose,"
"Well that's..." weird seemed like the right word... but not something you'd say to a person's face about they're psychotic friend.
"Weird, I know. But it's true,"
Oh well, what the hell.