I had taken care to enjoy the tea more than usual, while Haruhi, who had never learned about being thankful, downed the entire scalding cup in three seconds. One hundred grams of that stuff cost six hundred yen—it wouldn’t have killed her to savor it a little. “What?” I answered, glancing at the smiling Asahina, goddess among maids, out of the corner of my eye. “Oh, would you like more tea?” Just as Asahina hurried to pour more tea into Haruhi’s empty cup— Haruhi leaned forward from the reclining position she’d assumed in her brigade chief’s chair, then rested her chin atop her clasped hands, her elbows on the table, and said a strange thing. “I have this strange habit of talking to myself.” Did she now? I never knew. This was the first I’d heard of it in close to a year. “I don’t even pay attention to the people around me when I do it.” Well, you should probably get that looked at before someone decides to publish a collection of your “wisdom,” I thought.
What do You think about The Wavering Of Haruhi Suzumiya?
