[FFML] [Haruhi][oneshot] La malin génie de Suzumiya Haruhi

fallacies hoihoisan at gmail.com
Sun Aug 23 23:48:11 PDT 2009


La malin génie de Suzumiya Haruhi,
in which our esteemed heroine conveniently forgets that DVDs may be mailed
A New Tragedy by fallacies

Disclaimer: All works referenced are property of their creators.
Archive: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5325657/1/La_malin_genie_de_Suzumiya_Haruhi

//

When I step into the club room, only Nagato is present, reading
something called 'The Unpleasant Profession of Jonathan Hoag.' Kyon
must have gone somewhere to slack off with his two stooges. He has a
tendency of doing that if I'm not around to keep him in line.

"Mikuru's running late again?" I ask.

Nagato turns her head and nods slowly.

"And Kyon was trying to convince me a few weeks ago that she's a time
traveler or something," I say absently. "Can you believe that?"

"We all move through time," replies the short-haired girl in a
monotone, turning back to her reading.

I blink. Nagato is feeling talkative today.

"Eh," I say. "I meant the type that involves jumping forwards and
back." I totally believe in time travelers, but suspension of
disbelief can stretch only so far. I'm a realist first and foremost,
and the chance of me actually meeting a time traveler is miniscule.
Besides, Mikuru fails the competence requirement for a temporally
displaced government agent by at least two hundred and fifty-five
points.

Making a mental note to give my supposedly time-traveling mascot
character and Kyon a bit of discipline the next time I see them, I set
my bag down by the desk at the head of the room and turn on the
computer.

With Mister Snarky out of the way and thus unable to hog the machine,
it's a perfect opportunity for me to finish registering with the
Prefectural Film Contest. Figuring out how to work the badly-designed
file upload tool on the Contest website was a bit of a pain, but the
school's monthly allotment of wasted bandwidth is finally going to be
put to a nice, constructive use.

It'll be a billion years before I admit /The Adventures of Asahina
Mikuru/ to be anything less than a masterwork on level with /The
Legend of Nineteen-Hundred/ or /The Exorcist/. The fact that I wrote
and directed it does /not/ make me too close to judge it objectively;
it's got deep, high-quality writing, and that alone makes it loads
better than the crappy Weekend Roadshow flicks the networks show late
nights on Saturdays.

For some reason, though, a faint shadow of a doubt regarding the
potential reception of my piece creeps across my mind when I hit the
last page of the registration form.

"This is a contest oriented primarily toward amateurs that aspire to
film in a professional capacity," says a disclaimer. "As such, entrees
shall be judged per the industry standard. Are you certain that you
wish to submit your film?"

Can a bunch of average high school students really make a movie that
wins the respect of a panel of film experts?

Almost as the thought forms, I crush it with oodles of confidence. I'm
a realist first and foremost, and a victor second. If I start doubting
everything I do, I'll never get anything done.

I click 'yes.'

//

On a Sunday morning near the end of November, I check my mail. I'm
pleasantly surprised to find an envelope addressed to me from the
Cultural Committee of Hyougo Prefecture. I open it as soon as I get
inside the apartment.

The first time, I don't understand what's written in the letter, and
so I read it again.

And then again.

And then I crumple the letter into a ball and throw it across the
living room. As I flop down on the couch, my father frowns at me from
the breakfast table.

"You can't win them all, you know?" he says.

He's right of course, but I'm too angry to listen. I go to my room and
shut the door.

//

By noon, I've calmed down, and I go back into the living room. Picking
up the letter, I uncrumple it and read it again.

"To Ms. Suzumiya Haruhi," it says. "We regret to inform you that of
the sixty-four entrees in this year's contest, your submission placed
forty-second. We cordially invite you and seven others of your choice
to attend the screening of the five winning entrees on December the
First. Please find the screening tickets enclosed. We hope that you
will participate again in next year's contest."

I don't crumple it again. I smooth out the paper on the dining table
and sit down.

At the beginning of summer, I was caught up in series of events
resembling a closed-circle murder mystery, and I tried my hand at
sleuthing Kindaichi-style. It didn't turn out anywhere near the way I
imagined, and, on the way home, I crossed private investigator from my
list of potential occupations to pursue. Never spoke about it with
anyone, but it wasn't a pleasant experience for me at all. Blood and
accusations are best left to the professionals with the training to
stomach them.

The affair brought me face to face with a cold, hard reality that I
don't like to think about: Despite the front I put up, I don't
particularly have a high opinion of my abilities.

Certainly, I place in the top percentile of my class in the
educational jurisdiction that Northern Municipal happens to belong to,
but this is more on account of the fact that the majority of my peers
are boring, mindless drones than any real academic skill on my part.
On a nation-wide scale, my grades are a lot less impressive, with good
reason.

You can't win them all. The world is too big for that, and there are
too many gears turning behind the scenes for any one mind to properly
work all of them. You'd have to be omniscient and omnipotent. I'm
neither.

I'm a realist, first and foremost. The most I can do is stand up when
reality slaps me down, and try harder.

//

The club room door is slightly ajar when I arrive Monday after
classes. I overhear Itsuki speaking to Kyon.

"Seems she was a bit agitated yesterday," he says.

I peek in, and then wince. Itsuki's broken his arm again. I've
suspected for some time that he has an abusive girlfriend, but he
isn't very open with me on the subject of his love life. When I get a
chance, I'll track the girl down and give her a stern talking-to. As
the leader of the Brigade, I have a duty to my subordinates.

Best I can do now is change the mood, I suppose. I bring out my full
cheer and swing open the door.

"Afternoon, ladies and gentlemen!" I exclaim, smiling broadly. "We're
gonna be attending a film screening on December the First!
Tsuruya-sempai says she can lend you boys some tuxedos, so shape up!"

"Run this by me again," says Mister Snarky. "Why are we doing this?"

"It'll be an educational experience!" I say. "As a pre-filming prep
for the next episode of The Adventures of Asahina Mikuru, you lot are
gonna learn everything you can about professional filming!"

"... just my luck," he mutters.

//

Fin

//

Malin Génie -
The evil daemon, a term from Cartesian philosophy, in reference to a
deus deceptor -- an omnipotent world-fabricator whose sole
entertainment is screwing with you.

The Unpleasant Profession of Jonathan Hoag -
An anthology of short science fiction stories, themed about the
concept of pantheistic solipsism.

Time-Traveling Mikuru -
In the beginning of v2, Kyon attempts to explain to Haruhi about the
true identities of the SOS-dan members. Unfortunately, Haruhi cannot
suspend her disbelief.

255 points -
FF in hex. A highest-possible stat value used in some console RPGs.

The Legend of 1900 -
A movie about a mysterious ship pianist named Nineteen Hundred, played
by Tim Roth. To the end of his life, he could not bring himself to
step on land, and died when the boat was demolished by detonation. He
had a nice hat.

The Exorcist -
The one with the spinning heads and the urination and the crawling on
fingertips. Yeah.

Weekend Roadshow -
Movie-Hour on Japanese television, which is obviously played during weekends.

Hyougo Prefecture -
Where Haruhi lives (she lives in the municipality of Nishinomiya).
Contains small amounts of Kobe. Home of the Koushien, the dream of
every high school baseball team in Japan.

Haruhi's Father -
I don't know who he is.

Forty-Two -
Associated with Bill Clinton. Haruhi asked a question, and was given
an answer via ground mail after a week.

Closed-Circle Murder Myster -
A murder mystery wherein a small, finite set of suspects is
established, such that deduction may occur without much difficulty.
Usually does not occur in real life. It is the stuff of Marples.

Kindaichi -
A fictitious Japanese detective, known for being a scruffy man with
too much dandruff.

Northern Municipal -
Nishinomiya Northern Municipal High School, the school that Haruhi and
Kyon attend.


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