# memento mori

## a suzumiya haruhi no yuuutsu fanfic

### by brian randall

disclaimer: the light novel series begun with 'the melancholy of suzumiya
haruhi'/'suzumiya haruhi no yuuutsu' is the property of tanigawa nagaru and is
used here without permission. no disrespect is meant with the posting of this
story.

note: ignores one particular scene in novel 11, and may contain spoilers up to
that point. this is a less than happy story, though it will strive to be as
uplifting as it can, considering what it's about. hopefully the ending is
positive, but it's generally a very sad story, and some of your favorite
characters may have to suffer ... because that's the nature of life, isn't it?
so make the most of what you've got. what else can you really do?

* * *

One of the most refreshing and surprising things about that conversation with
Koizumi had been that he'd set his mask aside. I'd heard him say that he'd
stand beside me no matter my decision before, but never with such earnestness.
That side of Koizumi reminded me of how grave the situation was, that was for
certain.

Alone in the dark, I contemplated my own foolishness, unable to sleep
immediately.

Of course Haruhi could fix things and cure me. There may have been no need
yet, since it was still possible that conventional medicine might help....
That was getting harder to be confident in, seeing how poorly things seemed to
be going.

But why take that risk?

I didn't particularly like the idea of my brain ceasing to function -- even if
my heart would continue beating as a myogenic reaction, I wouldn't be able to
breathe unassisted. Come to think of it, at that point there wouldn't be much
of an 'I' left, would there?

So, that was death.

It was a scary thing! It was a lot to deal with! And, anyway, I could just ask
Haruhi for help! And if not her, Nagato. If ever there was a time to call in
favors, wouldn't that have been it?

For Haruhi, telling her who she was and asking her to heal me ... wouldn't
that be trivial?

I may have dozed and dreamed, or just been overwhelmed by my imagination. I
wasn't certain, but the images came to my mind as I mulled the idea over.

Haruhi, learning about who she was, what her powers were, and how she could
help me. Haruhi, using her powers for good. She would have healed me, so what
was the point in stopping there? She could heal anyone who was sick at all!

And her powers were limitless -- she could fix other problems with the world,
too. Hunger, homelessness, war -- all of those ills of society could be swept
away! She could be a truly magnificent person who solved every issue the world
had!

I could imagine Haruhi eagerly leaping to the role -- she'd get recognition
and also do something good in the process!

And somewhere there, off to the side, I would be healthy and able to live my
ordinary existance.

I didn't need much -- being an ordinary person was fine for me. Haruhi,
though....

If that were to happen, what would Haruhi be? If she used her powers to fix
all those things.... How would she even do it? Nagato had supreme perception,
but sometimes things escaped her notice -- she forgot her glasses, even if
only once. She has had blind spots and made errors.

Haruhi wasn't infalible, either.

Then I felt a chill -- oh, but if she was already doing so much, she could fix
that, couldn't she?

Where would it stop?

Would she even be _Haruhi_ at the end? Am omniscient benevolent being,
certainly. There were more things than I could grasp even in that brief,
passing fancy. But what would happen to _her_?

I could see, perhaps, someone thinking it was the best thing to do ... but
wouldn't such a thing make her stop being Haruhi?

I grew angry at that fantasy image of me, healthy as he might be. What right
did he have to tell Haruhi not to be human anymore? Just for his own benefit?
Haruhi ... had grown a lot since I met her. Or maybe she'd always _been_ a
better person, and just hid that off from the world for a time following her
realization, those four years ago.

And I considered just making her throw it away because I was scared of
something that billions of humans before me had faced?

Okay, I told myself. That was a bit much. Haruhi turning into that would be no
better than me asking her to trade her life for mine -- and maybe everyone
else's, too, but at its root, it was too selfish a thing to ask.

What about telling Haruhi who she was, and only asking her to heal me?

I tried to envision it, but my mind kept slipping back to that other train of
thought. How could I even do that? What was the sense in saying to help me,
and stopping there? So, Haruhi's powers would save me, and only _I_ deserved
such treatment?

Or, knowing Haruhi, she'd be content to stop _there_? She might at times seem
selfish and short-sighted, but it was a short, slippery slope from helping me
to realizing she could help _others_. And that kept leading to the same place!

It shook me to realize it, blinking into the dark surrounding my bed.

The words escaped my mouth, still faintly slurred, but totally unbidden:

"I like Haruhi too much to do that to her!"

There was no one around to hear it, but I felt my face heat up anyway.

It was still _true_, though. Such a thing....

I couldn't ask that of _anyone_.

Or could I? Nagato had powers of her own, and was already aware of her
abilities, wasn't she?

My condition should be just as trivial for her! And Nagato was someone I could
ask for favors. I had in the past!

Except ... I'd never once asked Nagato for help using her powers, except to
deal with other supernatural or paranormal things. In fact, I'd worked long
and hard to try and make Haruhi deal with things the same way other people
would.

The baseball game was a glaring exception, but we forfeited the match, didn't
we? And the point of cheating there was to sooth Haruhi when she was more
easily irritated. When we fought the computer club, we didn't cheat.

Nagato may have been amazing, and operating at a level few humans could
achieve.... But at the same time, I _did_ ask her to do nothing a human
couldn't do. I couldn't imagine her ignoring that.

Powers and cheating against reality to counter other powers or instances of
cheating against reality was fair. In those situations, it was like primitive
man versus a blazing comet headed directly for him. Divine intervention was
the only option!

But when that primitive man found himself surrounded by hungry smilodon....
He'd fight tooth and nail, but at the end of the day, if he wasn't a fierce
enough hunter, then he ended as dinner for a pack of saber tooth tigers.

There was still a question I couldn't answer:

What made me so special that I deserved something no one else could have?
Being _handed_ it, well, that was one thing, and totally beyond my control.
But asking for it would be selfish -- and hypocritical besides. If I insisted
that Haruhi should have to learn to deal with reality as it came, what right
did I have to make an exception for myself?

For probably the first time, I wished Koizumi was still around to discuss
these philisophical issues with!

I must have dozed again at some point, but I felt like I went the rest of the
night without sleep.

* * *

I woke up to a gentle prod. My eyes drifted slowly open, and I blinked up into
Haruhi's expectant, somewhat worried stare. Her short hair still hung down to
frame her face from that angle, but once I was awake she flashed me a smile
and backed away.

"Good morning!" she chirped, raising the bed without even asking. "Feeling
better?"

"Still ... tired," I mumbled, shifting about a little as the bed adjusted.
"Huh -- don't you have school today?"

"Today is when we find out for certain if you're getting better!" she
answered, smile vanishing, replaced with an intent stare. "And you _must_ be
improving by now!"

The nurse bustled in behind Haruhi with a tray of the porridge I was getting
tired of. She raised an eyebrow at Haruhi's presence, but said nothing until
the tray was in place, and I had a spoon in hand.

"Good morning, Kyon-kun," she said, echoing Haruhi. Smiling at Haruhi, she
teased, "Is your girlfriend visiting to keep you company during your next
MRI?"

I felt my face heat up again at that. Haruhi was my Brigade chief! It
wasn't.... I mean....

Haruhi herself spluttered briefly, then coughed and recovered herself.
"W...well, I'm here to help take care of Kyon the best I can," she said
resolutely.

"I remember. The last time he was here you snuck in with your sleeping bag and
everything," the nurse chuckled. "Well, as long as the doctor doesn't mind,
I'll leave you be. Have you eaten yet, young lady?"

"Y-yeah," Haruhi agreed quickly, nodding.

I was surprised that she didn't refute the role the nurse had assumed!
Obviously she was just a nurse, and not some member of Koizumi's Organization.
Still....

"Is it alright for you to be missing school?" I asked, once the nurse had
softly closed the door.

"School isn't nearly as important," Haruhi declared, crossing her arms over
her chest and looking at me sternly. "Koizumi will bring our assignments to us
later, anyway. We're a club, and we'll work together -- even if you _are_
stuck here until you get better!"

I nodded at that before realizing -- I didn't feel dizzy anymore. I still
couldn't hear out of my right ear, but was I actually getting better? Or had I
just adjusted to the sense of balance being off?

"What's that look about?" Haruhi wondered. "But you _must_ finish your
breakfast, of course."

"I don't feel dizzy anymore," I told her happily.

"That's great!" Haruhi cheered, grinning. "Keep getting better like that, and
you'll be back on your feet in no time!"

I had to smile. Maybe worrying about getting help for my condition was
pointless! Certainly, there was no reason to upset anyone else if I managed to
get better on my own.

Though ... I had more testing to look forward to in any case.

* * *

After explaining my sense of balance to Yamada-sensei before the next MRI, he
smiled softly and cautioned us, "Let's be careful and understand what
happened, first. You may have just acclimated, for one."

"We should be positive!" Haruhi countered, crossing her arms over her chest.
"This means Kyon's going to be just fine!"

Yamada-sensei's expression was pained. "That would be nice," he allowed. "But
there's also the possibility that the nerve cluster that reports the sensation
of balance -- which had become damaged and wasn't working correctly -- just
isn't reporting anything at all anymore."

I wasn't sure what to make of his bedside manner.

"The MRI will tell us?" I asked.

"There's a chance we can determine it," he agreed. "In any case, if you're
cautious, there's no reason not to try walking. If your sense of balance isn't
being given bad information anymore, you easily _could_ be able to walk again,
anyway!"

So thanks to that, after stepping out of the bed very cautiously, I was able
to walk on my own for the first time in several days.

You wouldn't know how nice that was if you weren't able to do it for a while,
yourself.

Under my own power, I was able to walk to the MRI room with Haruhi and Yamada-
sensei.

"I still think Kyon's on the mend," Haruhi said resolutely. "And from this
point forward, I'm going to stay by his side until he recovers!"

"If the results are promising," Yamada-sensei allowed, holding the door open.
The same familiar techs gave me friendly smiles as I climbed into the
contraption yet again. I was able to pull the antenna into place myself, and
one of the techs spent only a few seconds adjusting it before nodding at me
and starting the system up.

"And even if they're not! Um.... Last time Kyon was here, I stayed with him
until he recovered, after all."

"If the immunoglobulins aren't helping, our next measure will supress Kyon-
kun's immune system," the doctor explained patiently, repeating what he'd told
my parents and myself last night. "Once that's done, to prevent the risk of
infection, he will need to be isolated."

"O...oh," Haruhi responded, sounding unsure of herself.

I wondered how she was really taking it.

"Ah! But-- That means there's still a route for treatment!" Haruhi said,
excitement in her voice. "You must keep positive, Kyon!"

Well, being positive would be hoping that the results from the MRI would say I
was recovering anyway!

* * *

Even with Haruhi present, I fell asleep in the machine. I didn't recall any
dreams, but I was woken up when the machine released me by Haruhi pinching my
cheek gently. Well ... it wasn't the worst way to wake up in the world. Hadn't
I once done similar to _her_?

"What did you draw on my face?" I mumbled.

Yamada-sensei chuckled behind her, shaking his head. "Let's get you back to
your room," he said. "I'll need an hour or two to go over your results."

"Will his parents be coming by?" Haruhi asked.

"My mother, for sure," I agreed, yawning, but glad to be able to climb to my
feet on my own. At least the hospital outfit included pants -- I'd be
embarassed otherwise! If it were late enough, she'd undoubtedly bring my
sister with, rather than leave her home alone.

Haruhi moved to my side and took my arm as though I needed help walking. I
almost stumbled over that, but she kept me upright. "Careful!" she admonished,
looking away even as she gripped my arm tightly.

The doctor said nothing, merely opening the door to my room and letting us
enter.

I had spent enough time in the bed recently to not want to return to it, and
Haruhi didn't mind guiding me to one of the chairs instead. I sank down to sit
in the surprisingly stiff seat and knuckled back a yawn. "Thanks for visiting
me today," I said, offering her a smile.

"I...it's what I have to do," she insisted stubbornly, looking away. "And ...
if you have to go into isolation, then shouldn't I spend what time I _can_
with you now?"

I wondered, though. I supposed I made a convenient excuse for her to skip
school, didn't I? Then again, I got to avoid the drugery and busywork myself,
so I shouldn't complain too much!

While thinking such thoughts, I still smiled, mindlessly looking into Haruhi's
face. Her expression at the time was one of her more pleasant ones -- the kind
which I would compare with Asahina-san. She fidgeted beneath my gaze for some
reason, as though it made her nervous or uncomfortable ... but I was too
absorbed in my thoughts to realize that.

"Let's play a game!" Haruhi declared abruptly. I started, but nodded, as she
took the chair opposite mine and slid a table from one side between us. I
shouldn't have been surprised that she brought a deck of cards with her. It
might have been the same one we played Old Maid with when the entire Brigade
was assembled.

"What did you have in mind?" I wondered, as she glared at the cards intently,
shuffling them in a swift blur.

"How about poker?" she answered, shrugging.

I nodded and accepted my cards, thinking of the hand I'd been dealt. Once I
was lucky enough to get a royal flush against Koizumi, but it wasn't for
anything of particular value. Thinking of that, frowning at the garbage hand
I'd been dealt, I realized, "We don't have anything to wager."

Grinning happily, Haruhi reached to one side of the chair. I'd missed it
before, but she had brought a bag with her -- and her sleeping bag was next to
it. I shouldn't have been surprised.

But before I could ask, she produced a pad of paper and a pen. "I'll track
things here," she explained. "But since it's not real money, we'll each start
with ... one hundred trillion yen!"

That was outrageous!

"Minimum bid of one billion," she added, scribbling the balance on the pad of
paper.

I couldn't help but sputter. "Why not use some reasonable number, like one
thousand?" I protested. "One hundred _trillion_?"

"If we're not using actual cash, there's no reason to be reasonable!" she
countered. "It's nothing like favors, penalties, or clothing!"

...did she really put those things in the same list?

Nodding in satisfaction when I had no response, she said, "So -- one billion
in ante!"

It was a good thing it wasn't real money -- I was certain that Haruhi would
take it all, by the time she was done!

* * *

Much to my surprise, Haruhi wasn't particularly good at poker. Actually, when
I thought about it, it occured to me that she may have trouble with any game
where it's only one other person against another. She was great in team games,
and in games with large groups where others can play against one-another, but
when it was just her and I....

It was actually more fun than I expected! Haruhi's outrageous sums were
amusing to pay with, once I adjusted to gambling hundreds of billions on a
single pair. Other than that, it turned out she was actually a terrible
bluffer.

I didn't imagine myself to be much better, but Haruhi also tended to play
high-risk hands. As I did not have to worry about the numbers, it was
pleasantly relaxing.

That same friendly nurse came by with my lunch, and we paused for that
briefly. Haruhi actually was taken aback to find the nurse brought an
additional tray for her -- but the nurse just winked and left the pair of us
alone.

Some twenty five trillion yen into the game, while she shuffled, I stifled a
yawn. That drew her attention, and she looked at me sharply. "Are you tired?"
she asked worriedly.

"I didn't rest as well as I might have liked," I admitted. "That's fine,
though ... I'm really enjoying this."

In response, Haruhi ducked her head slightly, but not so much that I couldn't
admire that expression she had shown me earlier. "Ah," she started, coughing.
"Um ... Kyon, you know--"

And then the door burst open and my little sister bursted in like a round
being blasted out of a canon. "Kyon-kun!" she cried loudly, charging my bed,
then backlpedaling and correcting course, leaping at me with only a fraction
of her intended force.

That was a good thing, too, since her small body colliding with mine rattled
me enough as it was!

She clung to me fiercely. "Kyon-kun!" she cheered again, eyes shining. "You're
feeling better, right?"

My mother was just behind her, sighing at my sister's antics, then starting
slightly. Hmm, I supposed that my sister must have gotten released from
school. We'd really lost track of time, hadn't we?

"Uh, hi," I managed, awkwardly hugging my sister back. Even if she did
interrupt whatever Haruhi was going to say, I couldn't be terribly upset with
her.

Haruhi fidgeted, then rose and bowed to my mother. "Thank you for taking care
of my son," my mother said, before Haruhi found her voice.

"I-- It's nothing!" Haruhi insisted.

My mother then glanced at the cards Haruhi had left on the table. "Ah, playing
a game?"

"Just poker -- er, but not with real money, of course," Haruhi explained. Then
she laughed softly and added, "Which is good -- otherwise I'd be in debt to
Kyon!"

"Well, we'll have to set that aside for the moment -- Kyon's results should be
in shortly," my mother added soberly. "Speaking of which -- are you feeling
better, Kyon?"

"I can walk again," I said, ruffling my sister's hair, but unable to get her
to let go.

"That's good!" my mother exclaimed, as Haruhi nodded her satisfaction. "Now,
Yamada-sensei should be along shortly, so if--" She broke off as the doctor in
question entered the room, though his expression was solemn. "Ah, Yamada-
sensei...."

He nodded in greeting, closing the door behind him. A familiar manilla
envelope of test results was in his hand. "Good afternoon," he said, offering
a brief, wan smile. "We've got the results from Kyon-kun's tests earlier
today, so...."

That lighted board on the wall of the room had gotten an awful lot of use. He
set up three particular scans in a row. Haruhi twisted around, and then popped
to her feet to stare.

Even my untrained eye could register a greater number of shadowed and dark
spots by the third image. Pointing at the first one, he explained, "This is
from when Kyon-kun's first scan this week."

My mother bit her lip, as he moved to the second.

"This is the first scan following the immunoglobulin infusion," he continued.
"As you can see, the degredation is severe." His hand moved to the third
image. "This is the scan from this morning. As you can see, the darker areas
indicate neural matter that no longer posesses a myelin sheath. It's ...
particularly obvious around here, which is the area of the brain responsible
for hearing and the sense of balance on the right side of the body."

"So I'm not falling over because my inner-ear has stopped working at all,
instead of poorly," I realized aloud, in the silence.

"That is correct," he answered solemly. Taking off the glasses he had always
worn, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Unfortunately, it appears that the
immunoglobulin has had no effect on the condition."

My mother weaved unsteadily -- Haruhi looked as pale as a sheet, but managed
to turn the chair she had vacated, so she could collapse into it unsteadily.
"But there's still a treatment, right?" Haruhi demanded, her voice tight, eyes
shining like my sister's.

"Kyon-kun's going to be okay, right?" my sister echoed, her eyes beginning to
water.

Yamada-sensei bowed his head. "We've already set up another room for
isolation; because of the severity of the condition, we would like to begin
treatment immediately," he explained, almost apologetically. "This will mean
we must limit direct contact, as we will be severely supressing the immune
system in order to try and prevent further degradation."

I wasn't sure how to feel. Somehow, seeing my sister and mother like that, and
even Haruhi shaking.... I had to try and be strong for them.

"Alright," I said. "In that case, we should ... go while I can still walk,
shouldn't we?"

"No!" my sister cried, shaking her head furiously. Somehow, she managed to
cling to me even more tightly.

"Ah-- Kyon-kun needs to go to his treatment," my mother protested, though she
still looked uneasy. "We can't delay that."

"No, no!" she insisted, tears running down her face. "That word means 'alone'!
Kyon-kun is sick, so why make him be alone? How can he get better like that!"

Haruhi shook, flinching away. For a moment, I half-expected her to follow my
sister's lead! I could imagine her complaining we had to finish the round of
cards, but....

"Imouto," I told her gently, "we have to try this to see if I can get better.
I'm sorry about that-- Just follow your Haru-nee's lead, right?"

"R...right!" Haruhi choked out, flinching as though my words had jarred her
out of some stasis. "We can't give up! Kyon being in isolation will be a small
price to pay for him to get better!"

My sister reluctantly let Haruhi pull her off me, and my mother struggled to
her feet. "We'll-- We'll walk with Kyon until we have to leave him," she
declared.

Nodding, Yamada-sensei left the images on the board and moved to the door.
"Then ... this way."

* * *

Isolation was not what I had expected. A few sci-fi movies too many had made
me think the process would be sticking me with enough needles and tubes that
I'd be mistaken for a pincushion. I also expected thick bulletproof glass
walls with speaker grilles, and the nurses and doctors to be swaddled in
protective gear that made them look like astronauts. Biohazard stickers would
be everywhere, in my mind's-eye, and an armed guard or three would stand at
the door to check ID badges on anyone coming in through the multiple levels of
security.

That was an absurd expectation. In reality, I did have a single heavy-duty
line injected in my chest -- which was a bit painful -- somewhere near my
heart. This one line allowed the doctors to feed in medication and anything
else needed, where it would diffuse through my system quickly. It allowed
connections for multiple medications simultaneously, which was evidently a
good thing.

I did have to move to a different, and much smaller room, containing a bed,
some monitoring equipment, and not much else beyond a television mounted to
the wall opposite the bed.

When I mentioned my foolish thought to the nurse who had finished connecting
the drip line to my chest, she smiled-- Instead of an encounter-suit, she was
wearing scrubs and a breathing mask.

"You're in isolation," she explained, "not quarantine. And even then, armed
guards would be a bit much!"

"Could I still have friends visit?" I wondered.

"One at a time, and briefly," she agreed. "If the doctor says it's okay. They
will need to wash their hands thoroughly, and wear scrubs, gloves, and a mask
for safety, though."

I had the strange image of Haruhi in that getup, suddenly, and wondered if it
would be possible to take a picture.

She wasn't in the room, though, and the next person through the door was my
doctor -- dressed identically to the nurse. He set up an IV stand with three
separate bags which were then connected by lines to the one feeding into my
chest. He explained what each of them were, and that two of them were
chemicals to suppress my immune system.

"We're giving you a fairly large dosage," he said. "We need to act quickly to
counter the degradation. You're likely to experience some side-effects of the
treatment, and I'm afraid no visitors until we have a better understanding of
the impact it has on you."

"Side-effects," I stated in return. "Well, are they as bad as my brain being
eaten by my immune system?"

He didn't smile behind his mask.

"The risks we're looking at are that we could potentially permanently weaken
your immune system."

Considering what it was doing for me at the moment, I wasn't sure I thought
that was an entirely bad thing!

"It also could end up causing organ damage if the dosage is too high -- but we
need to supress your immune system quickly, and this is the only real option
for it. If the degredation were slower, we could try an array of medications
to find one that worked well, or possibly even radiation therapy. Those won't
be effective enough, so this is what we're trying."

I felt strangely calm as I digested those words.

"Sensei," I asked quietly. "If this doesn't work ... how long do I have?"

The doctor, who had been working with me for the better part of a week by that
point, heaved a slow breath, looking away and deflating like a punctured
balloon.

"To be honest," he said quietly, "at the current rate, you'll undergo further
sensory degredation within a few days. While the condition seems focused in
the periphery of your brain at the moment, it will spread to the nerves
throughout the rest of your body. You may suffer partial paralysis, loss of
sensation ... loss of control of organs -- like your lungs, among other
things....

"There's a risk of 'locked in' syndrome. That's where you remain aware of your
surroundings, but cannot control your body. While you've been very fortunate
so far, the degredation is going to eventually start to take its toll on your
cognitive and memory centers. You ... will start suffering memory loss, and
your base functionality will degrade."

"And, ultimately," I said quietly, "I could turn into a vegetable that can't
even breathe unassisted."

"Yes," the doctor agreed solemly. "But ... the treatment we're trying now
might be able to slow -- or even halt that."

"And how soon will we know?" How _was_ I remaining so calm about this?

"We're going to take regular blood samples and monitor the activity of your
immune system in action," he explained. "If it slows, we'll be able to see
that, and can adjust the medication accordingly to supress it further -- the
hope is that we can fine-tune the dosage and keep your immune system active,
but not working against you."

I couldn't just leave it at that, though. I could imagine Haruhi or my mother
demanding answers for these same questions from this poor doctor shortly
enough. "And ... if that doesn't work?"

The doctor coughed, his voice roughening slightly. "In that case ... there's
not much reasonable we can do. Being ... _unreasonable_, if you consent to it,
we can try and intentionally disable your immune system entirely. You would be
extremely succeptible, but ... we could at least try and arrest the
degredation."

I felt a sudden, strange twinge of sympathy for the doctor. He was trying his
hardest, wasn't he? I was slipping through his hands like sand.

I couldn't be upset at him for failing. "Thank you," I said.

"W...well," he coughed, dredging up a weak smile behind his mask, which barely
reached his eyes, "if there's anything you'd like while we're waiting for the
results, now would be a good time to ask."

"I'm tired," I realized, shrugging weakly, already imprisoned in the new bed.
"For now, I think I'd just like to rest."

The doctor nodded, giving me a small bow before he left, coughing again. The
nurse pursed her lips and indicated a button I could press attached to the
side of the bed that would summon her -- or someone else. "If you get bored,
there's also a remote for the television," she added, setting it on the
bedside table.

And then I was left alone with my thoughts.

As much as was happening, though, what I'd said was the truth. So I didn't
really think about it much before I drifted to sleep.

* * *

I awoke some time later. The new room had no windows, but it did have a clock.
I raised a hand to scratch an itch on my chest, stopping when I felt the tape
holding the IV arrangement in place. As I yawned and shook my head to clear
it, the door opened, a familiar figure in scrubs and surgical mask entering.

The tray was set before me, and the one dressed in the outfit looked at me
with concern in their eyes.

I considered the costume for a long minute. It wasn't what someone would
expect to wake up to, that was for certain!

That being said, even though part of me wanted to laugh, I had to admit, "That
costume suits you, Koizumi. I can imagine you really becoming a doctor."

He didn't smile. "I can pull enough strings to visit you very briefly," he
said with a sigh.

"At least I'm not all alone," I remarked, sitting up and uncovering the tray.
As a side-effect of the medications and treatment I was recieving, my diet had
been reduced to very bland things, which meant little more than porridge.
Dairy was absolutely forbidden ... and I would have loved a cool glass of
milk.

Koizumi finally blurted out, "You didn't tell Suzumiya-san? Like this, it will
be more difficult for you to get time alone with her to discuss it!"

Ah, of course....

There was another seat in the room, so I waved at it, frowning at my hand
after I did so. My muscles felt lethargic, and the motion was less steady than
I would have liked. "I'm sorry," I apologized to him. "It's.... I thought
about it, Koizumi. I had all night to consider it, after all."

"And?" he asked warily, dropping into the chair. Ironic that one of the times
his 'mask' wasn't in place, his face was covered with a surgical mask anyway!

"And I can't do that to Haruhi," I said, shrugging, before eating a mouthful
of porridge. It tasted metallic and bitter to me -- I swallowed a single
mouthful before pushing it away.

I didn't feel hungry anyway.

"You-- I don't understand!"

"I ... don't know if I can put it into words well," I admitted. "But where's
the fairness in using Haruhi for my own good there?"

"I don't ... think it's selfish to want to live," he countered, frowning.

"Okay ... but why stop at just me? Haruhi can cure any disease, right?" I
prompted.

He settled back into his seat and glowered at me. I could see him working it
through, and he had a sharper mind for philosophy than I did. While he mulled
it over, I drank some water -- though _that_ tasted unpleasant, too.

"So," he said slowly, "you think Haruhi wouldn't be content to stop just
there?"

"I think it either would require me to be selfish, or her to give up being
_Haruhi_," I countered.

"I--" Koizumi bowed his head. "This is ... awkward to admit, but it's ...
uncomfortable to think of you ... not making it through this, Kyon."

"I'm not thrilled about it myself," I admitted dryly. "But ... it's the hand I
was dealt. Some of us get reality warping powers, some are unwittingly drafted
to fight giant monsters, and some of us ... get sick."

"You're astonishingly sanguine about this," Koizumi remarked, shaking his
head.

I stared at the ceiling of the room. "Panicking won't do me any good. I've had
enough time to think about it. It's hard for me, too. I don't want to die. If
this treatment attempt is no good, though.... It's scary to think about dying.
It hurts -- even if I'm not actually in pain. But ... that just may be what's
happening."

"And Nagato-san can't help? Or her superiors won't let her?" he pressed,
leaning forward intently.

"For that ... even if Nagato already knows what she is, I can't just use her
for my own benefit like that."

"But what about Suzumiya-san? What if it's not for _you_, but for _her_?"
Koizumi countered.

I hadn't thought of it from that angle. "I think we should live for ourselves,
not just other people," I said slowly. "But if you're turning this into a
philisophical discussion so simple even I can follow it.... Say, Koizumi --
has Haruhi ... ever had to really deal with loss before?"

"I ... I don't think so," the esper admitted, looking surprised at the
thought. Shaking his head, he added, "Certainly, I don't imagine she'll handle
... grim prospects particularly well!"

"But isn't that something we all have to learn to deal with at some point?
Don't get the wrong idea -- I'll be very happy if this treatment works! I want
to be lucky enough to get through this! But if we're talking about accepting
the hands that fate deals us, not twisting the world to suit our whims ... how
do we justify saying, 'Just once, for now, we will cheat'?"

"I don't like the idea, not at all," Koizumi refuted flatly, shaking his head
again. He heaved a tremendous sigh, one that made his mask puff out.
"Except.... Even saying that ... I do trust your judgement, Kyon. You ask when
she will learn to accept loss. And if not now, when?"

I hadn't worded it like that, but I nodded agreement.

"This is difficult for me," Koizumi got out before coughing and needing to
wipe something from his eyes. "Uh..." he groaned before coughing again.

When he raised his head, that mask that usually concealed his face was in
place, though slipping. For once, I didn't fault or dislike him for trying to
wear it.

"How ... can you bear it so easily?"

"I ... have never asked my friends to use their non-human abilities for me
only for my own benefit," I said slowly, looking away. My own eyes were watery
-- probably just a side-effect of the medication I was being treated with.
"Only to counter or handle other issues that are beyond a normal person.

"But despite that.... Despite that, I have traveled through time. I've been
attacked by an alien who just wanted to see how someone would react to my
death. I've gotten to see espers fight beings that threatened our reality.
I've done things that maybe no other humans will get to do -- see two of
Nagato, side-by-side, and Asahina-san, too. I've walked in an alternate
reality....

"But more important than that, I've made true friends. Not just because you're
more than normal people -- but _as_ normal people. Some of our best moments
have hardly involved any powers at all -- Haruhi leading us all to write that
book to fill the duties of the Literary Club! The fun we had on the island
trip -- or the winter vacation!

"So ... thinking of that ... I've been able to do and see things that allow me
to say, 'even if I have only known the Brigade -- my precious people -- for a
little more than a year, it was the best year I've lived.' That is true beyond
question. I want more, as well -- to keep living, to make _more_ precious
memories.... But if this is what I was given, then what about those who have
gotten less?

"Thinking that ... how can I _not_ be prepared to accept the hand I've been
dealt?"

Koizumi coughed quietly for a bit, while I wiped my eyes -- stupid
medications....

"I ... see," the esper finally got out. "So ... you will try and share such
feelings with Suzumiya-san? If-- If this doesn't ... restore you to
health...."

"Yeah," I agreed quietly. "If ... I don't get better, then I want to share
that with Haruhi. I.... I _have_ to, to thank her for all the opportunities
I've gotten, don't I?"

"I understand," Koizumi said, his voice tight -- on the verge of another
coughing fit. "I.... I will stand by your side, Kyon, as much as I can. I
understand your choice, and will do my best to support it."

I nodded, feeling tired again. "Thanks, Koizumi. And ... I think you'll do it
anyway, but I have to ask."

"Anything," he agreed. "What can I do for you?"

"If ... I can't be there for Haruhi, I hope you can."

"I ... understand," he managed, before he had to leave the room.

It made sense, though. A ... coughing fit that severe was no good while I was
supposed to be in isolation to protect against infection, right? And I had the
side-effects of my own medication to worry about....

* * *

Thanks to all the tubes and sensors attached to me, I was confined to my bed.
That didn't spare me further tests, though.

First thing in the morning, along with breakfast, a sample of my blood was
taken to study the effects of the immunosuppressants by a nurse in scrubs and
a mask.

After that, Yamada-sensei returned in the same getup, and quizzed me on
possible side-effects.

Since I couldn't find an apetite -- everything tasted metalic and unpleasant
-- another IV was set up to keep me from starving. I'd heard of such things,
but hadn't even realized it was a side-effect.... For a change of pace, the
lady doctor who started her tests off asking me to remember three words made
an appearance, though it took me a minute to identify her behind her mask.

Once she was done, I asked, "How am I doing on those tests, anyway?"

"Ah," she started, already halfway to the door. "Well, so far, you're doing
very well! It seems you're not being severely impacted yet."

Except for the fact that I couldn't feel my toes anymore, I might have agreed.

Yamada-sensei had explained that the degeneration could probably be expected
to cause numbness and -- effectively -- paralysis from the extremities and
working toward my brain. Of course, knowing that parts of my brain had
evidently already started to break down didn't help. I still had no hearing in
my right ear, which was a constant reminder of _that_.

I couldn't complain about the constant tests too much. They were designed to
help keep me alive, for one. For another, well ... it was something to _do_.
If I wasn't doing some sort of test, I quickly became bored. I tried watching
television, but somehow, I couldn't imagine spending what could have been the
last days of my life doing something so ... trite.

On the other hand, I had no computer or games ... which would probably also be
just as uninteresting to me. A book, well....

Maybe I would be able to ask Nagato if she had a suggestion? I had to hope it
would be allowed into isolation, of course, but it would have been
_something_.

In short, I had a lot of time to think.

I might have been overdoing it -- I had no way to tell. But I had more or less
come to grips with the possibility of my own death. It's something everyone
will have to do eventually, so it's not particularly remarkable that I could
do it, too. Someone as thick as me would need his nose rubbed into his own
mortality to realize it, but that had come to pass.

There were a great deal of things I couldn't really fathom -- and I knew I'd
never _really_ have the time to sort them out.

It was strange, but I felt like a student who had forgotten all of his summer
homework. It would be a bad mark, but since there was no way to do it in time,
it was impossible to worry about actually doing it. Oh, dealing with the fact
that it wasn't there was still a real issue, but there wasn't as much pressure
to get it done.

And like that student, I was wondering what I could do with my time left.

On some level, though I wasn't letting myself think such things, I was trying
to accept the worst possibility -- that the treatment did no good. Being given
the good news that it worked, and I would be saved would be a shock I'd be
able to take! But pinning everything on that hope and then having it fall
through....

But even saying that, on some level, I _was_ still very hopeful. No one wants
to die; the hope that some other student who knows your plight and conspires
to get sent to the hall with you before assignments are handed in so you can
copy his.... It's a small chance, but that hope is still there, even if you
try and convince yourself that it's not.

Those thoughts circulated through my mind, looping around endlessly.

It was very boring.

The other side-effect of whatever I was being treated with was that it made me
constantly sleepy, so not long after I'd been hooked up with the IV to provide
my body with nutrition, I dozed off.

At some point in the afternoon, I woke up again when the same nurse who
usually looked after me returned. Behind her was a smaller form that it took
me a minute to realize was _Haruhi_ beneath those scrubs and the mask. "Oh,
hey," I slurred, trying to sit up before giving it up as a lost cause and
fumbling for the bed controls.

Haruhi's eyes were shining, and she coughed once behind her mask. "Ah ... how
are you ... feeling, Kyon?" she asked anxiously. "Y...you know, all this time
spent worrying your Brigade and not getting better...."

"Sorry," I mumbled, trying to shrug.

"I'll give you two a few minutes," the nurse said quietly, nodding to Haruhi
before she stepped outside.

"I-- Uh, I wanted everyone to have a chance to visit you," Haruhi said
uneasily. "But they said that ... we shouldn't, since you're in isolation."

"I'm not completely isolated," I answered, struggling to enunciate clearly. My
tongue felt sluggish and uncooperative. "They let you visit me, right?"

"Yeah," she agreed quietly.

"Mm. Homework?" I wondered. I didn't particularly want to do more assignments,
but I was at a loss for what else to do. I still needed to bring some issues
up with Haruhi, but I hadn't figured out how to do it at that point.

"Uh-- No," she sighed, staring at the floor. "I made you notes and stuff, but
it's no good bringing in books that might contain outside germs or bacteria. I
think I'd be okay with it, but they said it might be hard trying to use a
pencil while wearing these, too." She raised a hand and waggled her rubber
glove covered fingertips.

I doubted that rubber gloves would slow Suzumiya Haruhi down much!

I didn't know what to say, though. No homework was nice, but without even
cards to play with....

"Well, what would you like to do?" I wondered.

A flash in Haruhi's eyes told me that the answer couldn't be conveyed in
simple words. Who knew what she wished to say and share?

"I'd like you to get _better_," she snapped, finally letting her features
settle into a scowl as she stared at me. What was with that reaction? Did she
think I was enjoying the situation?

"Like this.... Like this you're scaring me!" she exclaimed, smacking a fist
into her own thigh as she sank to sit in the room's one chair. "Koizumi-kun is
brooding and nervous, Yuki is too distracted to read, and-- And Mikuru-chan
just cries worrying about you! This ... is very inconsiderate of you to scare
everyone like that!"

There was the merest, briefest spark of irritation that Haruhi could have such
an attitude. I almost snapped back at her that it wasn't my choice. But ...
well. I was largely a fool, compared to my companions, and I wasn't terribly
clever. I was also lazy and generally lacking other real virtues -- if there
was one thing I was good at, it was restraining my temper.

Before meeting Haruhi, there were few times my patience had been tried enough
to make me lose it, and after, well....

I'd made the observation in the past that Haruhi was as poor at lying as I was
-- and I could see there that she was trying her best to put up a front. Why
would she do that?

Even my slow brain could find an answer to that question easily enough.

It was easier to be angry than to show her true thoughts -- hadn't she done
the same when I made that poor joke?

Of course, just like when I'd been in a coma and she 'penalized' me for it,
she wasn't trying to be malicious or cruel ... it was just the way she acted.
That was the key word in that behavior though -- 'acted'.

So I did not snap at her, or turn bitter or defensive. Instead I just shrugged
weakly.

"Sorry."

Her expression fell, even behind her breathing mask. I never was much for
conflict, but I saw no point into getting into an argument. "You will get
better, though," she insisted, her voice quavering a tiny bit. "And when you
do...."

She trailed off, not sure what to say next. What penalty _was_ fit for that
situation? If I _were_ to get better, and the whole thing were a pointless
scare, 'the death penalty' would obviously be wrong to declare. Not that she
was ever serious about that, but what could she say?

"Haruhi," I said softly. "Look.... I'm trying to get better."

She flinched at that, her mask cracking. "I-- I didn't mean--"

"No, listen," I continued, shaking my head slightly. "I am trying. The doctors
here are doing everything they can, too. I'm not ready to give up ... but I
have thought about it."

"No!" she exclaimed, leaping to her feet. "You can't-- You _must not_ think
such things! You have-- You have to get _better_ Kyon! Don't even _consider_
the alternatives!" Her eyes were wild, and behind her mask, I could see she
was breathing hard. "It's terrible that you're scaring us so much as it is but
if you.... You _must_ get better, or, or...." There was an awkward moment
where she worked her jaw, eyes glistening as she groped for words. Finally,
though it was quiet, and conveyed none of her usual confidence, she finished,
"...or I will never forgive you!"

I thought about what she said. I wasn't like Koizumi, a master of
philisophical thought ... but what other than one's mortality could motivate
someone to become interested in that subject?

"I wouldn't want that," I said in reply.

She nodded, as though the matter were settled.

I couldn't leave it like that, though. Being too optimistic would just work
against me -- if I spent every day just hoping I would get better and then ...
didn't.... Well, then what? Wasn't it better to use the time I would have left
as well as I could?

I felt that was the answer -- but what did I want to do with my remaining
time?

There may have been something to the idea I'd already given up. I _had_ been
given enough time for someone as mild tempered as myself to come to grips with
it. I would _rather_ have survived, but if I didn't.... Well, for me it
wouldn't make much difference.

But what about for _Haruhi_?

My thoughts escaped my mouth without thinking. "Haruhi, you're at your best
when you're cheerful and looking out for others," I said. I didn't often
compliment Haruhi ... but it was true.

She flinched back in surprise, eyes widening. "Wha.... W...well, a leader must
do her best!" she replied, off balance, but seeming pleased despite that. "Of
_course_ I have to keep my spirits up! And when you're down and gloomy, you
shouldn't be forcing me to pick up the slack!"

That ... was not the reaction I was hoping for. I didn't mind her being
positive ... really, it was something about her that was a tremendous
strength! But even so ... there had to be room for her to accept things being
beyond mortal control.

Or, maybe I was overthinking it! After all, the treatment I was in isolation
for could cure me entirely, couldn't it?

"I'll try my best, then," I sighed in answer. The smile she had behind the
mask made me bite my tongue instead of trying to push the point further. There
was still time, after all.

"You'd better!" she insisted, bouncing to her feet. A knock sounded at the
door, and we both turned in surprise.

The nurse opened it and peeked in. "We need to limit visiting hours while he's
in isolation," she said apologetically.

"O...oh," Haruhi faltered, before firming her resolve. "Well-- That's fine!
Just get better soon so we can visit more, Kyon! And then recover so you can
resume your rightful place in the club!"

I spread my hands in a helpless shrug as she nodded decisively before turning
away.

What else could I do?

* * *