# 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?

* * *

Even though my visiting time was limited, it wasn't cut off entirely. While I
had the impression that Haruhi would have happily monopolized it to keep me
buried in make-up work or Brigade activities, she wasn't about to fight my
parents when they wanted to talk to me.

There wasn't much to say, though.

My father's grave expression told me that he -- like me -- had come to grips
with the worst possibility. I wouldn't want to give the wrong impression! He
was a good father to me -- the best I'd known! Well, also the only one, but
that's not the point. I sensed in some ways, his resignation wasn't that he
was giving up on me, as much as he knew he had to be ready to be there to
support my sister and my mother.

I had no qualms with that.

In any case, I spent the better part of an hour chatting with him. We talked
about a few things -- vacation plans, the house ... my sister a bit. We joked
about me learning to drive ... he got something in his eyes when he promised
that he'd teach me as soon as I was out of the hospital.

It was a nice thought. A fine prize for recovering from this experience!

...except, I could tell that deep down, neither of us expected it to happen. I
got something in my eyes, too....

After that my mother and sister visited for a while, too. My sister was firmly
in Haruhi's court, stubbornly rejecting any possibility I wouldn't recover.
Two sides of the coin, her and my father.

That was my fault, wasn't it? For asking Haruhi to help cheer my sister up?
Well ... sometimes it was easier to have strength for other people. If I could
ease Haruhi into the mindset of accepting things ... then hopefully she could
pass that on to my sister.

What depressing thoughts!

My mother was torn, not sure what to think-- Even though it wasn't much spoken
of, I could see her struggling, trying to cling to the optimism that Haruhi
and my sister carried.

My final visitor of the day, after my family had gone, was Yamada-sensei.

"How are you feeling, Kyon-kun?" he asked, stepping back into the room,
clipboard in hand.

"I've been better," I answered dryly.

He offered a pained smile behind his mask and nodded, hefting another bag of
fluid for the IV.

"Well ... we're still trying this medication, but so far it doesn't seem to
have much of an impact on your immune system. We're now going to up the dosage
a bit and see if that helps."

As much as I had been bracing myself, that still hurt.

"No good?" I wondered.

He shook his head. "It _may_ be too early to really tell," he answered. "We
only just started last night."

I was becoming perhaps a bit too familiar with Yamada-sensei. "But?" I
prompted him, as he changed bags of solution around.

He flinched, heaving a pained sigh. "It's.... It's no good telling you
anything but the truth," he admitted, shaking his head and sinking into the
guest chair. I supposed that it had to be hard on him, too. "And the truth of
the matter is ... it's not looking very good, Kyon-kun."

I felt drowsy from the medication before. I didn't know if the increased
dosage would take effect instantly or over hours, but I struggled to remain
awake. "Well.... The treatment is supposed to lower my white blood cell
count?"

"Among other things," he agreed. "It's basically supposed to tell your body
that your immune system is in overdrive and it needs to throttle back."

I didn't have a lot of confidence in that, considering how the immunoglobulin
didn't work.

"And ... it could be related to whatever's causing your condition, but _so_
far ... your immune system seems to be ignoring it."

"If ... it doesn't work, what next?" I asked.

Yamada-sensei heaved an unsteady sigh. "Your brain and nervous system shut
down," he answered. "Your memory centers, your speech center, everything you
use to process information and think.... Eventually, even the part of the
brain that regulates breathing will stop working. You'll continue to be
perfectly physically healthy, but...."

"...but brain-dead," I supplied. I impressed myself a bit by saying it so
flatly! To be honest, it terrified me more than facing an alien. I hoped it
would actually be fast -- I didn't want to feel my mind slipping away as my
brain effectively died. What a horrible sensation _that_ would be!

"Yes," he answered softly.

"And if the treatment isn't working, then ... how long?"

"The, uh.... The progress we've observed via MRI is ... quite honestly,
astounding," he said slowly. "From this point, we expect your entire nervous
system outside of the brain to stop working in less than a week. From there
... even though it either hasn't affected your memory, or you've adapted
around it...." He hesitated, doing some mental calculations. "Another day or
two at best."

Would I care at that point? I'd be a vegetable. If I lost the ability to
register all sensation....

So, barring a miracle, I had a week to live.

"If ... that happens," I mumbled, fighting off exhaustion. "Then can I come
out of isolation?"

Yamada-sensei startled, and I thought he might have choked back a laugh. "I'd
rather try medication in increasing dosage for a day or two ... but if by that
point your immune system hasn't slowed down, then there wouldn't be much of a
point to isolation."

I nodded. "...great," I managed to get out, before sleep or medication
overtook me.

* * *

I slept even longer the next day, waking up to do some tests. A side-effect of
the medication, evidently. I woke up in time to deal with the same doctor
evaluating my cognitive and memory abilities. I _felt_ I was doing just as
well, but my toes were still numb. The nurse who came in to check on me
following the tests remarked that it was just as well I was using the IV and
didn't need to eat anymore, and took another blood sample.

I dozed again after that, waking up when Haruhi shook my shoulders gently.

Though, the fact that a mere shake of my shoulders was able to wake me was a
surprise itself.

"You need your rest to heal, so it's forgivable," she said, as my eyes opened.
She nodded and put her hands on her hips, stepping back and looking down at
me. "I'll forgive it, but I can only spend so long looking at your sleeping
face!"

"What did you draw?" I wondered. How long had she waited, if she waited at
all? "Was the marker allowed into isolation with me?"

She sputtered and snorted behind the mask before shaking her head furiously.
"Always joking around," she muttered. "A...anyway, how are you feeling?"

"Tired," I admitted. "The medication's pretty strong." I spent a few minutes
working with the controls to raise the bed, realizing I'd slurred what I meant
to say.

Was that the speech center in my brain shutting down? Or maybe the nerves
connecting my tongue and voice box to my brain? Who knew.... Unpleasant
thought, though; it made me grimace.

"Would you like some water?" Haruhi asked quickly, catching my expression.

"Sure," I agreed. There was a pitcher and a cup by my bedside, so she poured
me a drink.

"Drink it slowly!" she instructed, passing it over to me.

Speed didn't much matter. And I was getting enough liquid through the IV for
the moment. I managed a few sips, but it tasted like a mouthful of one yen
coins -- something I hadn't stuck in my mouth since I was very, very small.
Still, I moistened my lips, and Haruhi looked satisfied with her efforts.

"How are the others doing?" I wondered.

"Eh-- Same as usual," she answered, pacing back and forth. "Yuki seems okay, I
guess, Koizumi-kun looks stressed constantly ... well, Mikuru-chan has calmed
down a little, which is good. You need to come back!"

"The Brigade is stronger than that," I told her, clumsily rubbing at one eye.
"I'll try and get better ... but it'd be okay without me."

"I told you to never joke about that!" Haruhi snapped at me, glaring at me
between the surgical cap her hair was tucked into and the mask over her mouth.
"That is _not funny_, Kyon!"

This time, I wasn't joking, though.

"_Anyway_-- How long until they can tell that the new treatment is helping
you?" she demanded.

"Tomorrow," I answered with a sigh. "Or maybe even later today."

Haruhi nodded. "Good! It's no good seeing you here for so long -- the sooner
you can get out, the better!"

"I have a serious question for you, though," I mumbled.

"Well, spit it out, then!" Haruhi demanded, looking at me expectantly.

"What if this treatment doesn't work?"

She glowered at me, eyes flashing with anger, and behind that.... Behind that
was something else -- something I could not identify in Haruhi's eyes. "It
_will_ work, and you _will_ get better!" Haruhi choked out, stomping one foot
angrily. "It's _not_ funny when you joke about that, Kyon! So stop it, or else
I will-- I'll...."

Though it's rare for someone like me to see these things clearly, I understood
her position. She was trapped between saying something that a part of her
thought she'd regret if she said, or keeping up the mask she was hiding
behind.

"Well, what if I apologize first?" I asked.

"Good!" was her emphatic response. "A...anyway.... I'm going to let you
rest.... Tomorrow, I will bring everyone, and we will visit in turns-- Though,
I'd better supervise you with Mikuru-chan!"

I'm not the one who needs to be supervised around her, Haruhi.

"I mean, she might trip over a cord or something!"

Of course....

"Anyway -- rest up, and look forward to it! You've got a lot of Brigade
members to apologize to for taking so long to get better!"

With that, she marched to the door, though she froze as though a high level
wizard had cast a stun spell when her hand was on the knob. For a minute, she
stared at it, seemingly struggling with some internal weight before finally
being able to twist the handle and step through ... though not without an
unreadable backward glance at me.

What did that mean? Before I could puzzle it out, my mother and sister stepped
into the room. Was that the real reason Haruhi had cut her visit short?

"Kyon-kun!" my sister cried, restrained from charging over and glomping onto
me only by my mother's quick reflexes. "Are you better yet?"

I bit back a sigh and shook my head slowly.

* * *

I wish I could have said more happened in that time, but I spent most of it
unconscious. The next morning, I was woken up for the anticipated mental
acuity tests, and then Yamada-sensei came back to discuss my treatment.

I had been prepared for it -- been _trying_ to prepare myself for it, at
least.

Even so, the prognosis made me shiver and want to huddle up and cry.

"The immunosuppressants aren't helping," he said flatly. He sounded exhausted
and ragged -- a man who had tried everything within his power and still fallen
short. "Your immune system isn't reacting as anticipated. At this point, we
have two options."

Options? I didn't know about this! "What are they?" I demanded.

"We can ... either increase the dosage, which will run the risks of permanent
side-effects from the immunosuppressants, or stop treatment entirely."

"Increased dosage?" How would that help? It already seemed it wasn't working.

"If ... we increase the dosage, it _might_ offset the degradation. The side-
effects of this would be ... risk of permanent damage to your renal system,
possible permanent immune system deficiency, and liver damage ... though that
last one is minor. The most significant factor is that if we increase your
dosage to that level, you will effectively be in a medically induced coma," he
explained frankly.

...so that was it. "Spend the rest of my life as a vegetable now, or spend the
time I have left aware of my surroundings?" I hazarded. Well, before I
_became_ a vegetable anyway.

"...yes. I-- I'm ... sorry Kyon-kun. I don't ... know what else to say," he
sighed.

Part of me wanted to laugh at him -- to ask him what business _he_ had being
upset. _He_ wasn't the one who was dying! Part of me was indifferent, absorbed
with my own plight. I couldn't dredge up any words of consolation for him, but
I kept my frustration to myself.

I didn't need to think about it long. My heart hammered unsteadily, but there
wasn't much reason to wait. The best I could hope for was to be preserved as a
vegetable for possibly _years_ before a cure -- if one could be developed --
could be uncovered?

"I want to be awake."

He nodded his understanding and disconnected the almost entirely drained pack
of medicine from the collection of IVs on the stand.

"How long until I can come out of isolation?" I added.

He shrugged glumly. "There's no reason to wait," he admitted. "Your immune
system so far hasn't even been slowed down."

Thanks to that, I got to have all of the IVs removed, except the one for
nutrition, which I was going to stay on for the rest of the night --
everything tasted like metal to me, still. Then I was loaded up into a
wheelchair, as my ankles no longer had any sensation, and I couldn't control
my feet well.

Once I was back in the same room I had started out in, with only a lone IV in
my arm, I dozed to sleep off the remaining medication in my system.

* * *

I woke up to Haruhi's bright eyes staring down at me as she shook me awake --
less gently than the previous time.

"What..." I started, before remembering. She wasted no time, grabbing the
control for the bed and raising it even as I finished waking.

Behind her were the rest of the Brigade. Nagato's expression was unreadable as
always. Koizumi looked like he was struggling to keep a stoic demeanor.
Asahina-san could have been switched with a timid creature like a kitten or a
bunny, wide-eyed and hopeful, but also seeming ready to bolt in a heartbeat --
an instant away from panic.

Haruhi put her hands on her hips and stared at me, grinning. "I _knew_ you
were going to get better," she said with satisfaction, nodding. "You've got
quite the penalty for worrying us so much!"

"You haven't talked to the doctor yet?" I realized belatedly.

"No ... why?" Haruhi asked, narrowing her eyes. "Are you going to need some
other treatment or medication now? A specialized regime of training or diet?"

"I'm pretty sure I can eat whatever I want, now," I answered without thinking.
Though, last I checked, everything still tasted unpleasant, anyway.

"Good!" Haruhi said brightly. "I'll bring you some home-cooked soup again
tomorrow, and we'll have you on your feet and working off your penalties in no
time!"

I shook my head slowly. "Haruhi ... I should explain everything. Um, let's
see...." She stared at me, her smile vanishing.

"You still have homework to do, too," she added quickly.

I rubbed one hand on my forehead and turned to Koizumi. I probably could have
been more diplomatic, but I said, "I need to talk to Haruhi alone for a
while."

She flinched at that, then glowered as Koizumi nodded and quickly trooped out
of the room with the others. "Well?" she demanded, almost growling, once we
were alone. Asahina-san gave me one last hopeful and worried look before
vanishing, and Nagato paused to look back at me, as well.

"Haruhi, sit down, won't you?" I asked.

"You're not the Brigade chief, so don't try and order me around!" she snapped.
"Now, spit it out!"

I sighed. This wasn't going to be good.... "Haruhi," I explained, looking
away, unable to meet her eyes. "The treatment didn't work, so we agreed to
stop it."

Her jaw worked as her eyes shone wetly, but she said nothing.

"I-- I had to choose between being put in a coma, and it possibly not even
helping, or being ... awake at the end."

"How-- How _could_ you?!" she shrilled, rattling me with her reaction. "You
could-- We have to try anything we can!" She shook her head, trembling and
wavering unsteadily on her feet. "I'll--"

"Haruhi!" I called back, raising my voice enough to break through for a moment
as she stared at me. "I wanted to choose this ... so I could see you again --
and we could _talk_ ... before.... I couldn't just sleep, and never see my
friends again before ... the end."

She flinched, teeth clenching as her body tensed up, as though preparing to
release an explosion.

Before that explosion could arrive, my mother bustled into the room, her face
drawn, and my sister in tow behind her. "Kyon-kun!" my sister exclaimed. "Ah!
Haru-nee! Kyon-kun is doing better?"

Haruhi deflated and dragged her sleeve across her eyes before muttering a
simple, "Excuse me," and.... Well, for the first time since I'd met her --
possibly the only time in history! -- Suzumiya Haruhi ran away.

I wouldn't believe she could be blamed for it.

"Kyon?" my mother asked, staring after her in bewilderment. "What...." She
paused, then sighed, seemingly answering her own question before she could
even complete it. "Oh," she groaned, tears escaping her eyes as she moved to
the side of the bed to grab my hand.

My sister looked between us uncertainly. "But.... But Kyon-kun is here, and
not in ... eye-sore-ation, right?" she asked anxiously, stumbling over the
words. "The immuno-goblins worked?"

"...yeah, for a little while," I answered. "But, Imouto, you see--"

"Kyon-kun would really like some milk," my mother overrode me. "Do you
remember where you got it last time? I think if you can find that girl in the
hall, she'll help you get it for him!"

"Okay!" my sister exclaimed.

How could my mother be so confident about _that_? I doubted she knew as much
about Haruhi as I did!

...but that would not be giving my mother enough credit. My sister dashed into
the hall, and before the door closed, she exclaimed, "Ah! Haru-nee...."

The rest, I couldn't hear. But wasn't that enough? Somehow, knowing that
Haruhi's flight had stopped in the hall helped soothe me a little after all.

* * *

When my sister returned, she brought my father with her. My parents didn't
know how to break things to my sister ... so they didn't. Even though _we_ all
knew what was going on, they decided to put off explaining things to her.
Well, one hurdle at a time, I supposed. Enough of a task to force a smile and
drink the milk. It still tasted _off_, but not as badly as everything else had
before.

The visit was a bit awkward thanks to that, since I had to put up a front for
my sister. It was _still_ time with my family, though, and I wouldn't have
traded it for much.

Eventually, enough was enough, and as I was drowsing, they agreed to leave for
the day.

My mother had some lingering thoughts as she stepped through the doorway. I
could see because she hesitated and turned, and seemed about to say something
... but at the end, she shook her head and smiled. We had already said
'goodbye,' so that seemed the end of it.

I was still thinking of Haruhi, though. Would I get another chance to talk to
her? Was Koizumi working as hard as he could to keep rampaging shinjin in
check? Had she and my sister talked?

Even though I was tired, I couldn't sleep yet.

And just as well, because only a minute after my family had gone, Haruhi crept
through the doorway, staring at her feet and stopping at the foot of the bed.

I didn't know what to say, yet. "Y...you have to get better," she finally
managed, sounding miserable and ... drained. I'd never heard Haruhi sound so
... _defeated_, before.

"I want to get better, too," I agreed. "But ... unless some miracle happens--"

"But maybe it can!" she exclaimed, standing upright and staring me in the
eyes-- Her expression was a bit wild, and my heart skipped a beat. "We-- We
could find someone from a shrine, maybe with a phenomenal power to heal! Or --
maybe we can just cryogenically freeze you until someone discovers a cure! Or,
or maybe we can just make a thousand paper cranes and get a wish!"

Could those ideas _really_ surpass Haruhi's reasonability? What was the right
answer, here? I felt unsteady -- on the verge of a precipice. It wasn't my
sense of flawed balance coming back, though.

Thinking about it, more than just trying to _use_ Haruhi, as Koizumi had
suggested, before the idea became disturbing to both of us.... In a way, it
was almost Haruhi trying to offer that ability to cheat subconsciously. If I
agreed that she could find such a healer, I expected that she would -- and
suddenly the world would have a supernatural healer. Haruhi's rationality
might accept it, but then, her curiosity would have to demand that she
investigate it ... and where would that stop?

Likewise, if I said that I could be frozen, she'd somehow find someone who
could perform the procedure on me. Likely within hours, if not even faster.
And for the last....

"If such a healer existed, they would find their way here on their own if I
were worthy, wouldn't they? Freezing me ... that would be nice, but if people
with a lot more money and connections than I haven't had that done yet, such a
thing isn't ready for humans," I countered. "And even if it _did_ work, how
long until they actually _had_ a cure?"

Haruhi's eyes began to water, as the wild gleam faded.

I felt as miserable as she looked to have extinguished that spark.

"But ... the cranes," she tried weakly.

If you fold a thousand paper cranes, you get a wish, huh? That was the story
of Sadako-chan ... Sasaki Sadako, that is. She was a survivor of Hiroshima.
She was sickened and dying of leukemia from the radiation, and the story was
that if she could make the cranes, she'd get a wish. Her wish was simply to
live.

But Haruhi obviously knew how that story ended. Six hundred and forty four
cranes were completed before Sadako-chan became too weak to fold more.

Then again.... Then again, after she was done, her friends and family finished
the remaining cranes, and they were buried with her. At the statue in
Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, offerings of paper cranes were frequently made
and hung in her memory. If I told Haruhi I believed we could do it, she'd have
the entire Brigade on paper-crane-folding duty.

I could envision it. Koizumi, working at a steady clip, producing crane after
crane methodically. Haruhi's pace faster than his, making a variety of tiny
permutations to the fold pattern to keep it from being too boring. Nagato,
stamping them out at a speed fit to match Haruhi and Koizumi together. And to
one side, working very slowly, and as patiently as she could, Asahina-san,
looking cutely proud of each crane she made, even if they might have tiny
imperfections, and she'd fret every time.

And when we were done, Haruhi would have the cranes strung up ... and she
might believe it, if I told her I did. It might actually work -- her crazy
power beyond reason, wiping away my condition and restoring me like new.

In the end ... even if it were something that we could argue was a one-time
fluke, or a miracle, or a wish that only could be granted because we were in
dire need.... Well, it would still be giving me a special exception that no
one else got to enjoy.

I didn't know what to say for certain, and once again the words slipped out
without me thinking. "You might have to finish them for me," I said. "But if
that's what you'd like, I can make paper cranes with you until the end."

She flinched back.

"Maybe, my sister could help, too ... I don't think she knows the story of
Sadako-chan," I said quietly. "This ... is hard to deal with, but Imouto
doesn't understand what's happening yet. I'm sorry to ask this, but I've said
you're at your best when you look out for others-- So ... when I'm gone, can
you help my sister?"

Those words seemed to pierce Haruhi's heart like a bullet; she collapsed, but
not before she was able to stagger forward and launch herself at me. As weak
and uncoordinated as I was, I was astounded at how light and fragile she felt
in my arms. I thought she was going to cry, but I was mistaken.

Her face bowed as she lay half atop me clinging to my torso with her face
buried in my chest, she sounded as though she were fighting back. "Stop it,"
she demanded. "Stop this stupid-- I can't.... Don't try and be 'manly' and
stoic-- That act is _bullshit_. I can't _stand_ you pretending this is okay,
and we have to accept it without so much as a whimper of protest!"

That ... stung. But I _have_ said that I was poor at lying -- just like
Haruhi. My skills at deception were poor enough that I couldn't fool many
people ... but perhaps I could fool myself. A stoic act? Putting my sister in
front of me and saying, 'forget about me, I'm not important'?

I had told Koizumi I was afraid. That wasn't a lie, but there, with Haruhi
hanging onto me.... How long had it been since I'd had something so
comforting? My _own_ facade, the one I hadn't even realized I was maintaining
crumbled.

But ... she was right. Life would go on for my sister, and the rest of my
family. I was just using that as an excuse to try and avoid dealing with what
I had told myself I was embracing.

So there _was_ one person I could fool after all.

My eyes teared as I heaved for breath.

"I'm sorry," I managed, before heaving a sob. I didn't _say_ anything. What
_was_ there to say, anyway?

I was going to die -- and soon. It hurt. I was scared ... I was depressed. And
I couldn't really play the card that I was some sort of hero, handling it in a
stoic and noble fashion for Haruhi's benefit. I wasn't even going to live to
be twenty? I was going to die before graduating high-school-- What was the
upside of that?

I still _accepted_ it. That part wasn't going to go away. But Haruhi broke a
floodgate to let something out I didn't even know I was dealing with.

"It's okay," Haruhi soothed me, between her own tears, shifting about to sit
up on the bed and pulling me close. I hugged her back, soaking her blouse even
as drops of moisture dripped through my own hair. "It's okay...."

She always had been the stronger one between us.

Some time later ... I couldn't imagine how long, we had both let all the tears
we had in us out. "I'm ... not ready to let you go yet," she mumbled, shifting
around and still clinging to me. "I.... I never got to say...."

She trailed off.

I had spent enough time pretending certain things weren't obvious to me. Even
I had some feeble powers of observation.... Was there much of a point in
carrying the charade on? I guessed there wasn't -- the best it could do was
leave Haruhi with regret.

So, being honest, I said, "I.... Even if it's pointless ... if it's with _you_
... I wouldn't mind making cranes."

She stiffened briefly, then relaxed, ducking her head again.

It wasn't spoken as plainly as it could have been ... but for us, it was
probably enough. She shifted about again, then asked, "How.... How well are
you still working?"

What kind of question _was_ that, even? "I've lost hearing in my right ear,
and sensation in both feet," I answered. "Other than that ... so far it seems
fine."

She sat back up on her knees to my side, still looking away. I had no idea
what she had in mind.

"C...can you..." she started before deflating. "I--" She cut herself off.

"What's this about, anyway?" I wondered.

"W...we might ... never get another chance like this," she mumbled. "And I
don't want to regret ... _not_ doing this, s...so...."

So _what_?

She took a deep breath to steel herself, then shifted again, rising onto her
knees and sliding to straddle my legs. Before I could protest, she raised her
hands to her hair, pulling her ribbon out. In just a few moments, she had
transformed her hairstyle, putting it back in a ponytail.

What was she planning? I didn't manage to ask, just admiring the view, as she
surprised me again by leaning close and pressing her lips to mine.

Even though we both still had tear-stains on our cheeks....

We kissed for a long moment, and when she broke it, she reached for the ribbon
on her school uniform blouse. "W...wait," I protested. "Haruhi, what--"

A fingertip against my lips paused me. "If.... If you don't ... want to, then
okay," she said quietly, staring me in the eyes. "But I ... want this-- Want
... to give it to you, before...."

There was ... more after that.

But that ... was for Haruhi and myself, and not to be shared.

Sorry about that.

* * *

The hospital bed was fairly cramped with just the two of us, but it wasn't
something I was actually going to complain about. Though it was probably the
sort of thing it should be embarrassing to admit, Haruhi managed to find a way
to instill a sense of calm in me that I wouldn't have believed possible
beforehand.

Well, not to dwell on that.

I was right, and Haruhi _was_ more able to deal with it than Koizumi's allies
had feared. At the same time.... I couldn't have just had the experience with
Haruhi that I had, and left her with such a bleak stance on things. Her eyes
were closed, but I didn't think she was sleeping.

"Haruhi," I said quietly.

"Hmm?" she answered, eyes drifting open.

"This world ... has more wonderful things in it than you know."

She blinked at me, the tiredness vanishing from her gaze as she focused on me.
"What do you mean?"

"I'm just saying ... I don't want to see you get distracted from your goals,
you know?"

She huffed, scowling, and turned her face to look upward. "I...if you're not
in the Brigade anymore, what's the _point_? I wanted the two of us to discover
something amazing together, because...." She trailed off and then sighed.
"We'll still be friends, but--"

I didn't want to hear her say something like changing her goals just because I
wasn't there. I wanted to see Haruhi be the person she wanted to be, not just
the person she had to _accept_ being. I'd already broken her down enough,
hadn't I?

"Even if you change _how_ you do it, there's no reason to give up entirely," I
insisted. "You know ... you will some day be able to have earnest, friendly
conversations with an alien, an esper, and a time traveler."

Her eyes flashed to mine, and then away. "It's hard to keep chasing the goal I
founded the Brigade for if you aren't going to be there," she said quietly.

"I'm just saying you don't need to give up," I told her. "Even if it's very
friendly, now, the Brigade is supposed to be about trying to uncover the
mysteries of the world, isn't it?"

"I thought you hated that," Haruhi said quietly.

"Well ... the searching, no.... Maybe the _way_ you did it -- sometimes I
thought you were a bit unreasonable, but I know you're a good person at the
heart of it." I had a sudden thought, and added, "Really ... I'm going to be
investigating one specific mystery before the rest of you -- for once, it's
the rest of the Brigade that has to catch up with me!"

She started, then snorted, shaking her head. "Dummy," she muttered, eyes
glistening. "But ... where am I even supposed to start searching? If you're
gone...."

"Well, worry about the rest of the Brigade ... and I expect that if you're
patient, it will just come to you."

"Just like that?" she asked doubtfully, even though a melancholy smile curved
her lips.

I nodded. "Just like that," I agreed. "As long as you work with the Brigade--"
She hushed me by breaking away and pressing a fingertip to my lips.

"I'd rather not ... lose you. But alright," she said. "Even so ... they'll be
there later. Right now ... I just want to be with you."

I probably could have pressed further. I could have worded things to give her
a positive impression of those she was looking for. I could have spilled
_everything_. I could have....

But in the end, I realized I trusted her enough with that.

So ... with Haruhi in my arms, and hers around me, I faded off to sleep.

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, I was alone. Perhaps as a reminder to me that
it wasn't just a dream, Haruhi had left her ribbon tied around my wrist. I
stared at it, thinking about the previous night as the nurse came in. "Feeling
well?" she asked me kindly.

I answered that I was feeling well enough. I wondered where Haruhi had gone,
but she had more sense than I did. Undoubtedly, questions would have been
raised if she had been caught in such a position.

The typical battery of tests came at me afterward. I ran my fingers over the
ribbon that Haruhi had left me with as the same female doctor asked me
questions.

"So, do you remember the three words I gave you last time?" she started.

What had the last three words been again? "Ball..." I answered, before
trailing off. I was _certain_ I had put special effort into remembering all
three words, but the second one was just a blank. "I.... I forget the second
one," I admitted. "The third was ... blue, right?"

She pursed her lips and wrote something on her clipboard. "Today -- see if you
can remember.... Triangle, flower, candle. Okay?"

Triangle, flower, candle. Simple enough. The other questions about things I
could remember and logic puzzles should have been familiar, but there were
just ... _spots_ where everything was harder to puzzle out, or the information
I was looking for simply didn't come to mind. It was frustrating ... I was
_certain_ it was taking longer than it usually did, as well.

Finally, she concluded, "Kyon-kun, do you remember the three words I asked you
to remember earlier?"

This shouldn't have been too hard. "They.... They were ... ball ... triangle
... and flower?" I tried.

Of course, she never really told me I was right or wrong, just nodded and made
a note. She spent a long minute after that, staring at the clipboard before
sighing softly. "Thank you for your time, Kyon-kun. I ... will confer with
Yamada-sensei for a bit."

"...sure," I agreed.

So, was that it? The loss of function I had been told to look forward? Speech
had already become more of a trial as it was harder and harder to pronounce
things ... but holes in my memory and ability to puzzle things through....

I didn't particularly want to deal with it. I was ready for the end, but that
slow slide.... That was more terrifying than being stabbed -- I knew that with
certainty.

Before I could let myself build into a crippling depression, Yamada-sensei
dropped by again, giving me a wan smile -- seemingly relieved to be out of
scrubs, even if he still seemed pained.

"What brings you by?" I wondered. Not that I resented his presence; he'd
worked as hard as he could to try and save me, after all. But I couldn't
remember any particular reason for him to come by ... unless there was another
MRI to look forward to!

He gave a small shake of his head and asked, "I want to know if there's
anything I can do for you, Kyon-kun. Anything ... you might want."

There really wasn't much I could ask for. I couldn't walk without using a
walker, thanks to my unresponsive feet. That ruled out anything like 'hit a
home run in Koushien stadium' -- though that specifically wasn't on my list.
Thanks to Haruhi and the Brigade, if I wanted to watch a movie or something, I
knew Haruhi could make it happen.

I couldn't really think of anything selfish to ask for. Then again, there was
only so far that the entire idea could go before....

But I realized there was _one_ good thing I could ask for. "When ... my neural
degradation is complete, I'll just be a vegetable kept alive by machines,
right?" I asked.

Yamada-sensei flinched, but nodded. "That's right," he agreed quietly.

"I hadn't thought to do it before ... but in such a case, can I donate my
organs? You said I was otherwise healthy, so ... I'd like to think I could
help others in that way. I'll be gone, but they will still be around, won't
they?"

He groaned, bowing his head. "Un...fortunately," he said slowly, "because of
the medications we treated you with, that might not work. More importantly, we
don't ... have a strong understanding of your condition. While it's probably a
very small chance, anyone who received your organs could be at risk. We ...
simply can't afford that risk, considering things."

I felt morose at that, deflating a bit.

"B...but," he said, straightening up, "if you want to help others, that's not
outside the realm of possibility. _Because_ your condition is not understood
yet, if you like ... you can leave your remains to science, in the hopes that
by understanding your condition better, some future patient can benefit from
what we learn."

Well, that wasn't an awful exchange. "That sounds alright," I decided. "Hmm,
does that mean if this is a previously unknown disease, it might be named
after me?"

He stared, jaw dropping open, before I let a grin slip out. Why not?

Chuckling, then building into full scale laughter, he shook his head.
"Alright," he agreed. "I'll do my best to make sure that happens. If you do
have something never seen before at all, it will be named 'Kyon's Syndrome'."

I should have figured.

Still, it had been too long since I felt a light mood, so I decided to let it
pass.

"Thanks, Sensei," I said.

"If there's anything else though, don't hesitate to let me know," he insisted.

* * *

Haruhi returned, unsurprisingly, with a covered bowl of soup in hand. The
nutrition IV had already been removed, and food didn't taste _as_ bad anymore.
Her cooking was actually quite good, and I had little reason to complain. She
managed to keep up a cheerful front, despite my difficulty speaking clearly,
or the general slowness that seemed to be overtaking my ability to think.

Koizumi was still stoic. Nagato was ... well ... Nagato. Asahina-san looked
dazed and unbelieving, but didn't cry -- just the occasional soft sniffle or
whimper. I wished I could bring the light mood I had shared with Yamada-sensei
to the others ... but I had realized that they needed to make their own peace
as well.

I was there, in the meantime, but what was there to say?

Haruhi chased everyone else away, once my family came by, then offered to take
my sister aside for a bit.

So, it was thanks to her that I got to speak with my family. The weight that
Haruhi had helped take off my chest was a positive thing-- Thanks to that, I
was able to keep a positive attitude, even when my father's demeanor cracked,
and he broke down, too.

By the time my sister returned with Haruhi, his gruff mask was back in place,
just in time to be a comforting presence with my mother when my little sister
said her own goodbye.

I bit my tongue and said nothing about it to them, even though it was
bothering me. From shortly after my discussion with Yamada-sensei, my vision
had begun to fade in my right eye. By the time my parents bid farewell, I'd
gone completely blind in it.

I didn't have to deal with it alone, though. Even if Haruhi left with my
parents, by the time I should have been sleeping, Haruhi crept back into the
room -- and the bed with me again.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

I decided not to mention the blindness. I still had one working eye, after
all. "Numbness is spreading," I admitted. My speech had become worse as the
day progressed, too. "But I'm okay."

She gave me a pained smile and hugged me tightly again.

Much to my surprise, she seemed to doze off instantly.

Well ... if I were to lose my sight, there were much, much worse final visions
than Suzumiya Haruhi's sleeping face. I settled down to watch her, wondering
when my awareness would fade.

"She's so cute, isn't she?" someone asked from behind me. I started, but
couldn't move without shifting Haruhi -- possibly spilling her out of the bed.

"What?" I managed.

There was a pained, forced giggle as the speaker walked around the bed.
Asahina-san's older self leaned over Haruhi's form, smiling with a look of
fond remembrance. Looking up at me, Asahina-san added, "But ... you're cute,
too, like this."

I had no idea what to say. I was too worn out to be embarrassed about the
situation, though I probably should have been. Emotionally, I just didn't have
the energy for it.

"Kyon-kun," she said quietly, looking up at me. "Um.... As ... you probably
can imagine, I've made some unreasonable requests for various purposes.
A...and ... this is difficult. I know what your goal here is, and I want ...
to help you with it."

"What do you mean?" Which goal? Haruhi didn't _really_ seem to need my help
coping with things; she was stronger than Koizumi or I gave her proper credit.
Was it ... that some day my condition _would_ have a cure?

"B...because of your condition, there is no technology in this time to treat
you," she explained. "And we can't change the time-stream, either. But.... But
if we take you into the future, and leave a clone behind -- like you in every
way except mentally, then -- then you can accomplish what you want and live
on!"

What the hell? Wasn't that just a plot right out of one of my favorite video
games?

"Isn't it forbidden to bring equipment through time?" I wondered.

"W...well, yes, which is why I'd bring you with me -- and the clone--"

"No, wait, even before that ... why are you giving me this chance?" I had
guessed that if she hadn't woken yet, Haruhi wasn't going to.

"I.... I want to some day be the Mikuru who saves Kyon," she answered, head
bowed. "And if not _now_, despite all the good that your decision here
does.... Then _when_?"

...I didn't like the thought of Asahina-san carrying a burden of guilt into
her older self. I suddenly realized in a painful flash of insight just _why_
she might have been able to be so seemingly cruel to her past self. I had
never looked at her actions through the lens of considering that to her older
self ... well.... To _her_ I'd been dead for a while!

On the _other_ hand, regardless of what I chose, Asahina-san's past self still
would need to bear that burden until she became the self that was in front of
me.

On the _gripping_ hand ... I'd already resolved to take the cards that I was
dealt. What answer would I possibly give while Haruhi's slumbering form was
still grabbed onto me?

"You.... You know, you already did save me?" I realized aloud.

She looked confused. "H...how?" she wondered, before her eyes widened. "Oh,
no! Did I already visit you early today? You can't be the clone -- it wouldn't
have any memories! But I didn't change the good you've done--" She froze
before she could say anything else and simply stared at me beseechingly.

"Do you remember the message you gave me that time you showed me your mole?" I
asked, unable to keep from smiling at that memory.

"Y...yes..." she answered cautiously.

"Well ... that was the clue I needed for something that came up not long
after," I said, shifting my shoulders a tiny bit, not able to really shrug.
"Other than that ... with Nagato's help, you saved me again with that bit with
the other reality, and the time quake."

She deflated, slouching a bit. "That's ... not what I meant...."

"But it's true," I insisted. "Asahina-san, you've done enough. I'm very glad
that you _did_ save me when you had. And ... I had any other number of great
memories with you and the others, too. So don't think you haven't saved me.
Instead, let me thank you for what you've done!"

Sniffling, she shook her head, managing a smile. "I knew you wouldn't come
with me," she sighed. "Somehow ... I'm certain the fact that you would say
'no' is the only reason they let me come back to see you ... one last time. I
still wish there was something I could do...."

"Well, you already have," I said. "I won't ask for more, but ... you let me
know that something good came out of this after all. It's really hard to ask
for more than that, isn't it?"

She fidgeted a moment before her eyes went wide. "Oh!" she exclaimed, hands
going to her skirt pockets. When she found nothing, they moved to her
chest.... Somehow, I tried to look away, but not before she pulled a picture
from one of her shirt pockets.

"Here," she said, turning on the bedside lamp.

I blinked at the picture. A little girl, maybe ... twelve or thirteen? She had
short brown hair with curled tips, and a charming smile. I couldn't really
place the period, but it could have been from the modern day ... or maybe even
Asahina-san's own time.

"Who's this?" I wondered. She seemed ... _very_ familiar, though I couldn't
quite place her.

"I already said something I shouldn't have ... so I'll tell you that is
someone you made life possible for," Asahina-san declared.

I had to admit ... the thought that I had somehow managed to save at least one
life.... I could understand why Asahina-san wanted to feel that!

"Thank you, Asahina-san," I said gravely, as she nodded and tucked the
photograph away. I still didn't want to cheat ... but that little spoiler was
something I could live with -- it didn't change my course of actions, anyway.

"Thank _you_, Kyon-kun," she countered, giving a small shake of her head and
smiling. She hesitated a moment, then stunned me as she leaned forward and
planted a gentle, sisterly kiss on Haruhi's forehead, and carefully brushed a
few loose strands of hair from her face. "And thank you too, Suzumiya-san, for
taking such good care of him."

Haruhi shifted in her sleep, almost as though trying to dismiss the gratitude:
"It's nothing!" I could imagine her saying.

"You two ... rest well!" Asahina-san concluded, sounding as though she were
fighting back tears as she quickly stepped out of my line of sight.

After that ... I was so tired, I dropped instantly to sleep myself. Or maybe
it was the degeneration, and I simply lost awareness.

* * *

When my eyes drifted open again, I was in a strange version of the same room.
The walls were sterile white, and the omnipresent light seemed sourceless. All
of the features and furnishings seemed simplified-- I could tell immediately
that things were different.

Both my eyes worked, and when I tried to wiggle my toes, I could feel them. My
head felt _clearer_ than it had over the last few days, too.

There was no window -- just a white panel, and....

"Where am I?" I asked aloud, looking around.

Nagato was at my side -- not appearing abruptly, but filtering in as though
she had always been there, and I only just noticed her.

"This is not a real place," she answered quietly. "It is a symbolic
representation that your awareness is connected to."

"So ... like ... a dream?" I asked.

Nagato nodded.

"But it's not really a dream?"

"No," she answered softly. "The progression of dysmyelination has had
significant impact on your functionality. Your system reacted to the lack of
immunosupressants and attempted to make up a percieved lack. At this point,
without outside assistance, you will not wake up."

...so that was that?

I didn't say anything, and after a while ... I couldn't have guessed how long
... Nagato spoke again.

"Currently, emulation of myelin throughout your system allows us to
communicate in this fashion. Without that emulation, your functions will
cease."

I thought I could follow some of that, but asked, "So you're keeping me
alive?"

She gave a tiny shake of her head.

It clicked for me, then. "So you're letting me keep thinking properly, as long
as I stay alive?"

Her tiny nod was my answer.

"Why?"

She blinked, and her almost never-expressive face shifted. If I weren't
looking for it, I would have missed the moment of uncertainty. "We are ...
friends," she said softly. "I can make the myelin emulation permanent. Records
of this entire incident can be purged and your condition can be restored.
Further injuries or conditions can likewise--"

Nagato froze, her speaking halting as precisely as a paused DVD when my hand
gently dropped onto the top of her head.

She blinked quietly when I said nothing, just gently ruffling her hair. Her
gaze dropped to her feet.

"You will not accept my help," she surmised.

"Nagato ... you have protected me from enemies I never understood, and even
yourself when you had a breakdown," I told her, rubbing her head gently again.
Her hair was soft and smooth, like tiny silk fibers. "Your abilities are
tremendous, and I don't doubt for a second that you can't fix this.

"But ... as I've said, this is the hand I was dealt. I'm willing to accept
that hand ... because you _are_ my friend. I don't want to use you or your
abilities for my own benefit. I think ... that would be wrong. More
importantly ... Nagato, do you enjoy your time here, with your friends? Never
mind what those jerk bosses of yours might say -- how do _you_ feel?"

"Feel," she echoed back softly.

Another long pause grew, but it felt comfortable -- it didn't bother me at
all.

Finally, she said, "I like my friends," in a voice that was quiet, even for
her. "My time here is ... unique." She paused, blinking, and tilted her head
slightly, like a cat angling for a better scratch. "Pleasant," she said
slowly, as if tasting the word.

I smiled, giving her one last pat before dropping my hand to my side. "Then
... just like _Haruhi_, I want _you_ to have the chance to live your own life
on your own terms. You're more than human, and Haruhi could be, too. But you
don't need to cheat to have fun -- even doing just what a human can do, you're
amazing!"

Her flat response was a simple, "I do not understand."

"You don't have to live by the limitations that ... I've come to accept," I
explained. "But really, you use your powers to counter other threats that are
on the same level -- and otherwise just live in the same world as the rest of
us. Isn't that fine?"

She blinked again, giving a slow nod.

"Though," I realized, heaving a sigh, "I don't regret having this chance to
talk to you again if I'm already...." I paused. I supposed I wasn't
technically _dead_ yet, but if I wasn't going to wake up again, I might as
well have been. "I do regret one thing."

Her head rose quickly. Nagato ... after having done so much for me -- for the
entire Brigade -- could you possibly have been wondering if there were still
something else?

"I made a promise to take you to the library," I explained with a shrug.
"After that ... I did something wrong and stood you up. I wish I hadn't-- But
I suppose it's too late for that. I'm sorry, Nagato. I wish I had managed to
keep that promise to you."

She hesitated a moment, then said, "Myelin emulation will automatically cease
once the degeneration is too severe to allow remaining sentience."

I was fairly certain she meant that I would die once my brain stopped working
without her help. I took that as her accepting my choice and not forcing the
issue.

"...until then, even though this is not 'real' space ... I would like to spend
my remaining time with you."

And to be honest, I would be happier if the end were to be a thrown switch
instead of a gradual decline. "I'd like that too, Nagato," I agreed.

She offered a hand, and I accepted it, stepping out of the bed-- As I did so,
the world around us.... But it wasn't the real world. It was just an illusion
Nagato had put together for us. It dissolved and reformed, and when the pieces
were all back in place, we were in the same library where -- long ago, it
seemed -- I had helped Nagato get her library card.

There were light fixtures, but they didn't seem to be doing anything -- light
was simply there, and as sourceless as it had seemed before, and there were no
other people. Nagato pulled me along with her, and I followed until she
reached a table with two chairs at it. There was a stack of books to one side,
and she released my hand to take one of the seats and pick a title up.

I couldn't help but smile.

I took the other seat, leaning back. What did I want to read? Would I have
been content to just wait for the end, admiring Nagato's content face?

I probably would have, but.... But then I had a sudden thought. Reading was
fine, but I had wanted to make some positive mark. A lasting presence. Some
mark that remained -- an echo that said, "I was here!"

Maybe I was being greedy -- Asahina-san had already told me I _did_ accomplish
that. And yet....

"Nagato," I asked, prompting her to look up from the book she had grabbed. "As
a friend, will you take care of yourself -- and Haruhi -- once I'm gone?"

She nodded without hesitation. For once, it didn't seem a tiny, or subtle
gesture, but an emphatic one.

"If ... it's not too much, I would like one last thing, though," I said,
feeling a bit abashed about it.

She looked at me expectantly, setting her book down..

"Would you let me have some paper and a pencil, so I can write a story of my
own? It's ... nothing important, just my thoughts over recent days. Somehow,
I'd feel better if I could put them down somewhere ... even if nobody ever
read it."

She reached for a stack of paper and a mechanical pencil I would have sworn
weren't there before, handing them to me. "May I read it?" she asked quietly.

Would she really want to? I was no one important, after all. But she did love
unique things, didn't she? "Of course," I agreed. In fact, thinking about
things.... "Nagato, it's only something that I would write -- but if you like
... then I would be happy for you to keep it once I was gone!" I exclaimed,
picking up the pencil.

She trembled faintly, her hands shaking. I looked up in concern -- and then
felt a moment of profound peace. Nagato was _smiling_. A real, genuine smile
... like I'd always hoped to some day see from her. Who cared what her jerk
bosses said? Why should she be stuck by _their_ stupid rules?

Well -- her smile was lovely, even if there were tears in her eyes ... but
that's life. You take the good with the bad.

And I could tell she knew that.

That was enough -- I had nothing left to regret, and one last task to finish
before the end came. Giving Nagato one more smile, I began to write. What was
it about... Oh, yes. A work that reminds you how fleeting life is, and how
important it is to appreciate it.

Imperfect, but good -- wabi-sabi. Is that it? Well ... maybe not quite. Close,
though.

There was a Latin term that might apply too, wasn't there? What did they call
those reminders?

Ah -- that's right:

Memento mori.

* * *