"... What would I miss?" Koizumi's mouth twists into the usual smile, just the kind of smile that Kyon often tends to find annoying - like he isn't taking this seriously, like he won't take this seriously. He doesn't feel that irritation now, somehow; he simply watches as Koizumi speaks, as he smiles, as he falls silent in thought. The answer is accompanied by the sort of handwave that is, also, typical of these conversations. "Why, that's quite a difficult question even to ask, let alone to answer...! What would I miss? That depends entirely on what we would be discarding. Perhaps she would change the world to be identical but for some obscure detail that only she finds annoying. How do we know that the universe has not been rewritten for the sake of our school's curry bread?" He smiles, still, but looks away from Kyon as he continues talking, out instead towards the city that lies beyond and beneath them. "... I'm sure I would miss many things, had I the potential to realise their absence. However, if the world really was rewritten three years ago, as they say... what do you miss from the old world?"

Kyon frowns both at the immediate need to answer the question and at the fact that he'd come to Koizumi with such a query and yet still feels that slight exhaustion for his penchant of avoiding straightforward answers. Kyon leans back against the concrete and also stares forth towards the city, although occasionally turning to glance at Koizumi (who doesn't look back towards him). "I can't answer something like that. Three years ago? I remember stuff from before then."

"Due to the 'you' of three years ago being created with your memories firmly in place."

"So I don't remember anything of before."

"If the theory is true, of course." Another smile. "It may not be. Who can say? All the same... my point is, I think you've just answered your own question."

"Seems kind of sad, though. That things could change, and you'd never know."

"We never would, no. Is it sad, though? Do you honestly feel regret for all of the things that never were, that you never even knew the concept to know their existence in the first place...? Why, that must be a heavy burden placed upon your shoulders..."

The city before them is grey and silent, as expected from a Closed Space. Extending out as far as they know, and then perhaps even as far as they don't. This should be different, even Kyon knows that much; wasn't Closed Space primarily for the Espers to 'treat' Haruhi, to get rid of the physical manifestation of her frustration...? There should be Celestials and destruction and other Espers and-... and anything but this, this silence, this emptiness. And yet, he and Koizumi are still sat on the roof of this building, looking out towards all of the nothing currently taking place. Still sat there, working over theories and tossing out thoughts like they were nothing. Koizumi still smiles, and for a moment Kyon almost allows himself to relax; when Koizumi smiles, it's almost as if he knows what he's doing.

"So what should we be doing?"

"I wonder."

"You're the one who knows about Closed Space, not me. Shouldn't you be trying to, I don't know, contact your Organisation or summoning other Espers or something like that...?" Kyon speaks with what he hopes is a sense of urgency without descending into panic; they'll get nowhere by panicking, he knows that much. Panicking, also, does not seem to be Koizumi's style. For all of this, however, Koizumi continues on as if the suggestion had never been made in the first place.

"If she were to change the city, I would miss it. I would miss our school. I'd miss the shops, I'd miss the houses, I'd miss the people I pass by every day without thinking. Whatever she changed, I would miss... is what I'd like to say. All the same, there is so much that she doesn't know about, that she can't know about, and yet... would it still change? Matters of war, and of politics. Perhaps her rational mind knows that they must exist, or thinks that they must exist, but then comes the eternal question - what manner of benevolent god would allow such suffering? From that, we could deduce either that she - or her powers - are not benevolent, or they are not those of a bona fide god. ...Or so it seems to me, at least."

"Koizumi-"

Rather than make any sort of determined move, Koizumi places his hand over Kyon's own. Simply, as if resigned. "If the world were to be reborn, I would like for us to meet again." Again, this causes a smile, and Kyon does feel slight annoyance. "That almost sounds like a song lyric, doesn't it? I wonder what song it could be... it could be any, I suppose. Nothing that immediately springs to mind. If we could access the internet then I'm sure we could check, but that... would be..." He trails off. He doesn't need to finish his sentence.

Kyon hasn't said much, but feels like he should be saying more. Feels like they should be doing more. They can get out of this, can't they?! There's always been a way previously. If they could just break out of the Closed Space, or somehow contact Nagato or Asahina-san, then, then-. They could surely do something...? Nagato certainly could. It was perhaps generous to say she can do anything! but Kyon almost thinks that she can, sometimes.

He thinks of all the possible and unlikely methods of escape and he thinks of all the friends they could call upon, favours they could pull. He thinks of this and he thinks of that but instead he turns to Koizumi and he sighs. "This is because of us, isn't it?"

Smile. "Probably."

"We never-... said anything, though..."

That much was true, but they both knew the words ineffective even as they were spoken. True; nothing had ever been said. How much could you get away with through neglect rather than confrontation? They had never said anything and would never dare say anything, but that didn't mean that they were not, still, completely noticeable. Kyon, at least, had tried not to be (and trusted Koizumi to feel and behave the same way). He worried that through this determination, he had undermined his own goal; trying too hard over something that meant far too much. And they hadn't said anything. They hadn't said anything, tried their hardest only to address such things in private, try to behave in public like nothing was different and nothing was wrong and it wasn't wrong, so to speak, but were she to find out, then...

(then, this.)

Koizumi keeps his hand over Kyon's own, tucking in his fingers to clasp beneath Kyon's palm. "She's a perceptive young woman. I'm sure that will serve her well in the future."

Kyon sighs his impatience. "I don't-... it doesn't help us now for her to be perceptive, does it?! So... we should probably try to... we should try to figure something out."

"What do you think that she will do, though?"

"I don't know-! She could-"

Koizumi shakes his head, "No, no, I want to know what you're thinking. I want to know what you actually think that Suzumiya-san is capable of."

"What am I meant to say other than all the stuff I've heard from you, Nagato and Asahina-san? Being some sort of god, or at least some sort of super-powered being, able to change the timelines and reset the world and-"

"There, see. Reset. I do wonder, I will admit, what will happen from here onward. I believe she might be feeling doubt and suspicion and, perhaps, no small amount of jealousy. Confusion as to if her thoughts are even correct; what has she seen or heard? What is it that she thinks she suspects to begin with...? Closed Space forms around Celestials born of her frustrations, her insecurities, her anxieties. The brute-force method may subside her feelings for long enough to be useful to us, but-"

"You're speaking like there are Celestials here to fight."

"... I know."

"And like other Espers could get in here to fight them."

"I know."

"It'll only go away once she's satisfied, right? Once it all makes sense to her. What are we supposed to do, walk up to her face and say 'oh by the way Haruhi, we're definitely not seeing each other' or 'whatever it is you thought you saw, you didn't' or... or something like that...? We don't know what's going on in that head of hers, what she saw or thinks she saw or thinks she thinks she saw or anything."

Again, Koizumi smiles. He too leans back against the concrete, one hand supporting the back of his head while the other remains in the same place it always did. "We do seem to be facing catastrophe on the whim of a theoretical, I will admit." He opens his eyes, stares at the sky, and doesn't smile. "... Whatever your thoughts are, I imagine we should probably start to concoct a plan. ...I also imagine that we either have no time in which to do so or, perhaps even worse, all of the time in the world." He turns to face Kyon then (and Kyon feels a distinct sense of worry for the loss of Koizumi's smile), "... Such an eventuality may, indeed, be our punishment. ...That is, however, our own fault."