FLCL

Amarao shut the door and sat down in the chair opposite Naota, removing an electronic organizer from his wide chest pocket and reading its display. 'Naota Nandaba, sixth grade student, Mabase Elementary School. Father: Kamon Nandaba, baker, forty-seven years old. Until ten years ago, worked at a publishing house in Tokyo as an assistant editor-in-chief for a subculture magazine. About a month ago, a female, whose full identity is unknown but who is going by the name Haruko Haruhara, took up residence in the Nandaba house.'

The eyebrow man had really done his research. He'd probably been watching Naota's house for quite a while in order to capture Haruko, but it surely had taken him by surprise when Naota committed murder.

'You shouldn't have used a bat,' Amarao said. 'Your house is a bakery. You could've at least used some unsold French bread.'

'I didn't hit him,' Naota replied quietly.

It was the truth. Naota hadn't hit his father; however, he didn't think Amarao would believe him.

'It must've hurt,' Amarao assessed, pouring two cups of coffee from the pot that was sitting on a server next to him and offering one cup to Naota. The man put sugar cubes into Naota's cup one by one. 'Here, you like sweet stuff, right?'

Naota thought super-sweet coffee must be an interrogation method, but surprisingly, the man put the same amount, if not more, into his own cup, stirring it with a spoon. He really must've enjoyed sweet stuff, because he put the cup to his mouth without hesitation.

Naota had decided to tell the truth, regardless of whether anyone believed him. 'I only hit the television.'

'Hit?'

'It was an accident.'

With a serious look in his eyes, Amarao said, 'I thought you were the kind of guy who couldn't swing at anything except for guardrails.'

'Couldn't swing at anything'? Naota became increasingly confused. What does 'you were the kind of guy who couldn't swing at anything except for guardrails' mean?

Amarao calmly drank his coffee, which was more like sugary soup. 'An older woman was a mistake after all, eh? She wasn't worth fighting with your father over?'

'Haruko doesn't have anything to do with this.'

'Haruko? You call her by her first name. You must be close.'

'I don't know.'

'She's your batting coach, isn't she? Well, she is quite attractive.'

'I said Haruko doesn't have anything to do with this!' Naota repeated, raising his voice because Amarao had gotten to the heart of the matter.

'Well, why did you hit him?' Amarao asked somewhat harshly.

'I didn't hit him!' Naota replied. 'I hit the television.'

'So, you hit the television.'

'Yes, because—'

'Because you were jealous?'

Naota fell silent and nodded.

'Don't worry. You won't be charged.'

He must be talking about juvenile law, Naota thought.

Naota wasn't yet twenty years old, but the reality was that he'd committed a crime. He had no idea what was going to happen to him legally.

'You're a victim, too,' Amarao added. 'You were merely caught up in something.'

'Victim,' Naota whispered. Victim? Why am I a victim?

It seemed as though this man had made a gross error. Even if he'd indirectly caused his father's death, Naota felt as though he had to take responsibility for it.

'Do you really think you killed him yourself?'

Naota didn't know how to respond.

'More important, look at this, Naota.'

'More important?' Naota asked, wondering what could be more important than a violent incident in which an elementary school student had killed his father.

After Amarao tapped on his electronic organizer, something appeared on a nearby TV monitor. It was sky, but there was also something shining in the very center of the screen that appeared to be a man-made satellite. When Amarao enlarged the picture, Naota could see that the satellite was shaking violently.

'This is a real picture. Right now, in the sky above the city, a satellite is falling. This isn't an ordinary satellite, either. It's a satellite bomb with massive destructive capacity.'

What is this man saying? Naota wondered as he took a sip of the coffee. It was far sweeter than he'd expected, and the dramatic taste increased the glucose levels in Naota's befuddled brain. What is this man saying about a satellite bomb?

'If the satellite bomb explodes, it will destroy Mabase. Do you understand what I'm saying? If that happens, no one will be saved. You get it? No. One. Will. Be. Saved. Not a single kitten. Of course, you have to keep what I'm saying to you now a secret—even from your father.'

'Eh?' Naota muttered. 'My dad, he's… still alive?'

'Everyone will die, regardless of whether we evacuate now. No one will be saved.'

Naota flashed back to his father's corpse once again.

'So, go home quickly and tell her we need her to hit another home run. Tell her the message is from a hometown fan.'

Amarao was referring to Haruko. Somehow, this man was familiar with her.

'Why Haruko?'

'She's from the Galaxy Space Police Brotherhood.'

Naota didn't bother probing into what a Galaxy Space Police Brotherhood was. It didn't sound like something he would understand, even if it were explained to him. Naota noticed Amarao's unusually fat eyebrows again. They simply were not natural eyebrows.

'You're a victim, too,' Amarao had said previously. A victim. It seemed as though he'd actually meant a victim of Haruko, which meant there were other victims like Naota out there. Every time Amarao had mentioned Haruko, he'd seemed oddly emotional. Maybe he'd been a victim of Haruko, too.

Naota got confused trying to process all the information.

Chapter 4

When Naota got home, he wandered into the backyard, which was connected to the living room, the scene of the crime.

As he intrepidly stepped up into the living room from the yard, he was startled to see his father's feet beyond the door, and he froze. Just past the door was his father's corpse—the corpse Naota had created with his own hands.

On the ground nearby lay the violent weapon Naota had used. It didn't appear as though anyone had been at the scene since he'd run out, and there wasn't any evidence suggesting there had been a police crime-scene investigation.

Naota was confused again. He'd gone to the police and had confessed to everything, yet they'd released him, and he was back home. What was all this? In spite of his cool mint head, Naota found it difficult to figure out what was going on.

'You can check with your own eyes. You didn't hurt anyone,' Naota repeated the words Amarao had said to him earlier, as Naota was leaving the police station. I didn't hurt anyone? Then, what's this dead body?

Naota heard Miyu Miyu's cry at his feet. The cat's relaxed meowing seemed inappropriate for the moment.