The operators' hearts were frozen, knowing their lives depended on that strange pair.
As a result of the satellite's gravity controls, the sky above Mabase had started to become stormy.
On top of one of the houses, a carefree high school girl gazed up at the storm clouds gathering overhead. It was Mamimi, and next to her was Canti. Together, they studied the swirling black formations.
By some unknown means, Canti was able to display the satellite's descent on its face monitor, which impressed Mamimi.
"Oh, Lord of Fear, you're very late!" Mamimi exclaimed with regard to the satellite. "I wonder if we'll get tomorrow off school."
Without replying, Canti switched the display to show Haruko and Naota, who'd finally reached the baseball field.
Mamimi wore a curious expression. "Takkun… what are you going to do?"
What am I going to do? Naota worried as he arrived at the baseball field. He'd thought that because Haruko was involved, he'd have to use Canti to deal with the satellite bomb; however, there wasn't a single person or robot on the field.
Staring up, Naota could see the thick black clouds billowing violently across the sky. The storm had developed into a terrifying sight. It was like a black sea of tar raging in the heavens.
Naota sensed in his skin that far beyond the thick black clouds, the dangerous weapon was heading straight for the baseball field. "It's coming?"
The satellite bomb wasn't visible to the naked eye, but it wasn't actually falling toward Mabase, anyway; it was aimed directly toward the bulge on Naota's head. The satellite and Naota's bulge had been communicating through half-active pulse waves.
It's heading straight for me. My pounding head is drawing that thing right to me! Naota thought when he realized this frightening reality.
"Well then…" Haruko began as she put her hand in her pocket.
Just as Naota thought Haruko was going to pull out yet another super weapon, it turned out to be a child's shower cap—simply an everyday shower cap people used in the shower to avoid getting soap in their eyes when washing their hair.
"What's that?"
"No matter. No matter," Haruko replied, tearing off Naota's head bandages. She quickly put the shower cap on Naota before inserting her hand into his head. Yes, right into the inside of his head. Haruko's arm reached deeply into Naota's head as if she were putting her hand into liquid.
"Whoa, wait a sec. What are you doing?" Naota's skin crawled. Having a hand in his head felt a hundred times worse than swallowing an internal camera. He could feel Haruko's hand wriggling inside his body, through his head and down his throat, and he couldn't help but think that she hadn't used antibacterial lotion or sterilized her hands.
As if she were looking for something in a barrel of rice, Haruko didn't hold back when pushing her hands into the depths of Naota's head. "I see—this is what it feels like inside a boy."
"Hey, don't touch that from behind," Naota said randomly.
Haruko was clearly enjoying it. With an indecent smile, she finally located the thing she'd been looking for and pulled it out, gripping some sort of metallic instrument in her hand. It was the next horn that would've come out of Naota's head, the bulge that had been communicating with the satellite. Haruko had intended to pull the horn out of Naota's head, but the annoying object hadn't separated from his head and had gotten caught.
Haruko braced her feet on Naota's head and aggressively tried to pull out the horn. "Hey, c'mon! Hurry up and come out."
"No, don't rush it," Naota pleaded. "If you rush it, it won't come out. Ugh, not so hard!"
The object finally dislodged with a satisfying popping sound. It looked a lot like the bass guitar that Haruko always carried with her. "What's that?" Naota asked. Haruko grinned. "Your bat!"
"Entered Earth's atmosphere. Altitude: fifty-six thousand feet."
Tension was at its boiling point in the underground surveillance room. Unlike normal residents, the people in this room knew the danger of the bomb hitting its destination. They also knew their chance of survival with the bomb this close was low. However, Amarao, who'd been tracing the satellite's course, had discovered another faint hope that didn't involve Haruko.
"We might be safe with this," Amarao suggested.
His idea had to do with the angle of entry. Even with gravity controls and speed adjustments, the satellite would skip off the Earth's atmosphere and veer away at an angle. His hopes were immediately shattered, though, when he realized the satellite's angle changed sharply not because of a velocity change, but because of its rotation.
"It's a sinker!" Amarao yelled instinctively.
Their only hope now was Raharu Haruha—Haruko. If she didn't have a secret plan, their lives, and all fifty thousand lives in Mabase, would be lost.
Several of the monitors were showing Naota and Haruko on the baseball field. Haruko had pulled an unknown object from Naota's head that looked exactly like the Brotherhood's guitar-shaped time-space interference weapon.
Amarao knew Haruko was a top-notch expert at that weapon. I see, Amarao thought. You're going to hit the satellite bomb back with this new weapon.
Jumping out of his chair, Amarao yelled again: "What are you doing? There's no way that kid can do it!" He was referring to the monitor, which had just revealed Haruko handing the weapon over to Naota.
What a fool I am! I shouldn't have trusted Raharu, Amarao thought, beating his fist against the desk. She always does this. She plays stupid games at critical moments. It was the same back then—
All the operators in the room became startled as they watched their superior quickly lose color in his face.
Needless to say, all the color had drained from Naota's face, too. Haruko had told him to hit the falling satellite bomb back into space with the thing in his hand. It sounded far too ridiculous.
The unfamiliar weapon intimidated Naota, but Haruko smiled as coolly as always. "It's okay," she said. "Just do it like I showed you."
"Like I showed you…" Naota racked his brains, trying to remember what she'd showed him.
"In other words, I think I'm special?"
"But you do think you're special, don't you? Whatever happens, if you don't swing the bat, you'll be special, but you'll only be running away. See that star? Swing for that."
That star. Gazing upward, Naota could see the satellite heading steadily toward them with his own eyes. There wasn't anywhere to run. He had to swing or die. In his heart, Naota understood: If he didn't want to die, the only thing he could do was swing the bat. In this case, if he did swing, he'd be special.
"But you think you're special, don't you?" Haruko had said.
But, Naota thought, until now, I'd never thought of myself as that special. I think. Maybe. What is "special," anyway? The reason I couldn't swing the bat in the game was because I knew I couldn't hit it back. It was only because of that… I GET IT. I'M NOT REALLY ANYTHING SPECIAL!
Naota gripped the guitar-shaped weapon and assumed a relaxed batting stance that Haruko had shown him, keeping his gaze firmly on the incoming satellite. From an outsider's point of view, it was simply suicide. However, Naota knew from experience that if Haruko was involved, common sense meant nothing.
Just giving it a shot is enough, right? Just trying… Naota reminded himself.
Perhaps without Naota realizing it, Haruko had greatly influenced his character.
Readying himself, Naota looked up and watched the approaching satellite in slow motion. He could clearly see it in its entirety, as if it were a balloon falling. In other words, it was as though Naota was in a state in which he could see the ball to its seams.