Wednesday, April 1, 2015

The Untold Story of Haruhi Suzumiya Booklet

This is a story that took place when I was in middle school.

It was near the beginning of September in my final year. I'm not exactly sure if it was the first or second week of the month, but it was around then.

Summer vacation had just ended, but we were still able to swim in the pool during our physical activity classes. Unfortunately it was our final day to swim, but we were given free time to do as we wish. I wouldn't say it was from the kind hearts of our teachers, but it's a tradition that we get to do on the last day we can swim. While we get to splash around in this pool that stinks of chlorine that some of the other students somehow love to do, our teachers get some free time. It kills two birds with one stone.

As usual, the summer heat had lingered around and, to make matters worse, there wasn't a single cloud in the sky today. This gave the sun a golden opportunity to spray its hot rays of light all around us. While I would've liked to stay in the lukewarm water and enjoy the nice breeze, all of the
4 students from two different classes were jammed into a 25 meter pool. I swam for a while and then
quickly came out to dry at the poolside fence closest to the street.

I got a pounding throb in my head every time someone splashed into the water, but there's another reason I got out of the pool. Water instantly evaporates from my wet skin, thus I could cool off faster in the shade.

We would hear various sounds in the woods behind us for the last time. Despite this heat wave persisting on into autumn, we can't go against society's wishes to end our summer. While I wish it could stay in the half of the year that summer occupies, it's beyond the power of a normal middle school student to place a needle on the calendar and have it stop.

But there's another good reason for the anxiety I'm feeling. My incredibly comfortable middle school days are coming to an end now that we're in the latter half of the calendar year. It's something that I think every middle school student at the end of his three years feels; I don't know which high school I'll be going to and, even worse, how I'm going to do on the entrance exams for the ones I apply to.

Well, it's not that I'm very pessimistic towards those things. My mother, the kind woman who brought me up, anticipated my laziness towards my studies since spring began and had enrolled me into a cram school with the goal of continuing my education in a small prefectural school in the city. So now reluctantly, lucky me gets to travel to my house with exam information more or less spilling out of my head. Well, all of the teachers will say their "You'll be alright!" special prayers and give me a certificate of passage, so it'll be alright for me to slack off somewhat.

"Ah..." Surely I'll think about it half a year from now when exams are about to happen. The situation is out of our hands, though we prepare as if most of us will be scattered to Timbuktu. I get depressed when I start to think about my self-introduction in my first high school class. What kind of people will my classmates be? I hope there aren't any weirdoes in my class.

And so in that kind of state, I stared at the boys and girls who were frolicking around. One person rose from the pool. I could hear the splattering of water as she walked over to me.

To continue reading, you can download pdf file here!