People Who Cannot Say Their 'Favorite Character'—On a Certain Noble Detour

First, the original text.

“Hmm, so, who is your favorite character from The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya?”

“Oufu lol, a so-called straight question has arrived, has it lol. Whoops lol, I, this humble one, accidentally used internet slang like 'kitakore' lol. Well, in my case, even if I say I like Haruhi, I’m a bit of an oddball who views it not as a light novel, but as a meta-SF work, so lol. The influence of Dan Simmons is, you see, lol. Dopfo lol, my geeky knowledge just slipped out lol. My apologies, my apologies lol. Well, I can praise Nagato as a metaphor for moe as being purely well-written, but lol. If you take a step back like I do, you see lol, as a character who inherits the metaphors of post-Eva and the kitsch of commercialism, the literary quality of Mikuru Asahina is, you see lol. Fokanupou lol, at this rate I sound just like an otaku lol. I am not an otaku, so lol. Kopo.”

“Who is your favorite character from The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya?”

It is a truly clean question.

It has no unnecessary embellishments.

It is as straightforward as the spring sunshine.

However, the person who receives this question does not answer.

No, it is not that they cannot answer.

Rather, they are trying to head toward an answer.

They are trying to head toward it, but along the way, they take a detour into academics, a detour into philosophy, a detour into literature, and before they know it, they are crying out 'Oufu' at a spot several kilometers away from the answer.

At first glance, this is a comical sight.

However, if you look closely, there is a strange nobility in it.

---

There are two types of people in this world.

Those who can say they "like" what they like, and

those who, before saying they like what they like, begin to explain the structure of that liking.

The latter type of person often takes a detour.

Even when they see a flower, they do not call it a flower.

First, they talk about the history of the flower.

Next, they talk about the social structure surrounding the flower.

After that, I talk about my own perspective as I gaze at the flowers.

And finally, I return home, exhausted.

I do not touch the flowers.

---

The person in this copypasta is the same.

If you like Nagato, you should just say Nagato.

If you like Mikuru, you should just say Mikuru.

However, I feel like something is missing if I do that.

Simply saying I like them leaves my emotions exposed and bare.

That is a little scary.

So, they dress it in theory.

They dress it in ideology.

They dress it in literature.

Before they know it, the emotion becomes invisible, and only the clothes have grown enormous.

---

However, what is important here is that this person is by no means a cynic.

People who are truly indifferent do not speak of it in the first place.

They would not go to such great lengths to take a detour.

The fact that they pile up such a vast amount of words is proof that a quite significant "like" is buried deep within.

Precisely because I love them, I cannot touch them directly.

When holding precious pottery, one does not use bare hands, but wraps it in cloth.

It is the same thing.

The problem is that the cloth has become too thick, making the pottery invisible.

---

Modern humans have a strange habit.

Rather than the emotions themselves,

they worry about how to handle those emotions.

Rather than the act of liking something,

they worry about their own stance in liking it.

Rather than being moved,

thinking about how to be moved.

As a result, people gradually become commentators on themselves.

While being a person living their life,

they also become the play-by-play announcer of their life.

---

The person in this copypasta might just have that tendency taken to an extreme.

He is watching the work.

But at the same time, he is also watching himself watching the work.

Furthermore, I am also watching the self that is watching that self.

It is like placing a mirror in front of a mirror.

What is born at the end of that is,

"Kopo"

I suppose.

---

I cannot bring myself to hate that cry.

That is the sound of defeat.

It is the sound of intellect failing to overcome emotion.

No matter how many difficult words one piles up,

In the end, they stand frozen before the simple emotion of "liking" something.

That attempt to hide their embarrassment

is the "Oufu",

the "Dopufo",

and the "Kopoo."

---

And so, while this copypasta is a piece of writing that laughs at otaku, it also somehow begins to look like the figure of humanity as a whole.

Everyone wants, just a little, to make themselves look beautiful.

Everyone wants, just a little, to treat their own sensibilities as something special.

Everyone, just a little bit, lines up reasons before saying they like what they like.

That small vanity, and

that small sincerity,

the result of them mixing in a strange way is this person.

It is a spirit like one that drinks tea while reading the latest philosophical books in the drawing room of a modern Western-style mansion, and three hours later, buys ramune at a candy store.

Is it noble?

Is it childish?

Is it intellectual?

Is it comical?

The person themselves probably does not know.

The only thing that is certain is this:

that he could not answer who his favorite character was until the very end.

And perhaps that was the most human part of him.