The Story of Haruhi Suzumiya
A Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya fanfic by MrCJ/Guessmyname

Once upon a time, there was a girl.

She was an ordinary girl. She was a happy girl. She was no princess save to her family. She thought she lived the most interesting life in the world, that her friends were the most interesting people in the world, that her parents were the most loving and doting ones in the world.

Then, one day, she discovered they were not.

This was not a world break. Nothing changed. Her parents did not stop loving her, her friends did not stop playing with her, her life did not stop running its course. She simply discovered the meaning of ordinary and found herself ticking all the boxes.

She saw this as a problem. If she was like everyone else, then who was she? Was she anyone at all? Would she matter? If she died, would the world stop turning save for a few select number of people she could count on her hands?

So, she resolved to not be like everyone else. She sought out the individual, she sought to be her own person. She searched, and looked, and investigated. She had a quick mind, everyone told her so. It wasn't the quickest in the world, but that didn't make it less useful.

Quickly, she realised that simply following the advice of others would not work. She abandoned the magazines, she discarded the self-help books and even burned some of the shoujo manga. If they were the ideas of others, they were not original. They were not hers. If she followed them, she would not be her own person, she would be theirs. She would be her own person. She would be her. And the world would not ignore her.

Thus, she turned to the weird. To the odd. To the unusual, and she embraced them. She knew no-one would act that way, because she knew no-one in their right mind ever would.

Her friends stopped playing with her. Her parents worried more than they doted. Her life stopped becoming ordinary, and instead became troublesome.

She wanted to be her own person. The world would not let her. So, she shut out the world. She would find something else. Anything else. Be it aliens, shifters, time-travellers or ESPers, if they were not ordinary people, whom the world would not accept, then they would accept her. They would play with her, they would love her, and she would be herself. And everyone would be happy.

Hers was a sharp mind. She knew it couldn't possibly work, but that never stopped her trying. She had to try. If she hadn't tried to be herself, where would she be? Who would she be? Not her. Desperation was her drive. Even if it got her into trouble, she had to try. She had to find out.

Then, one other day, she met a boy. He might not have met sliders, but he knew of aliens, time-travellers and ESPers. He even had a narcoleptic sister, which at least was something out of the norm. And he would agree with her. He would do as she asked, not question her sanity or doubt that she was anything but what she said she was. It was a surprise. He even helped her break the rules, and could see where she was coming from.

It looked like he did not like being normal either. And it looked like he had found something. It was just the air about him. He was different. Not in the way of blushing girlfriends claiming their latest lover was different from all the rest, or the advertising brand that claimed it's latest product was different for having a new colour, he just was. It was irrefutable. He was different. He knew it, and accepted it. In a way, he looked to be happy, and the way in which he was happy was his own. And his name, obviously fake, simply added to the mystery. He was what he wanted to be. If he wanted to be John Smith, then that was who he was.

She gained hope. She gained a glimmer of truth. The door to her future was now ajar, and if she was quick, she could get a foot in.

North High. A school she would have considered ordinary otherwise, suddenly became an object of importance. She was determined to go there. She knew the boy would have graduated by the time she reached it, she was sharp enough to see that, and rational enough to see that the chance could leave with him. But the hope remained. Maybe it would, maybe it wouldn't. It would be chance, a game of fate. Something would finally hang in the balance, and this excited her. It was something she could find out; for herself.

Three years passed. The excitement faded.

After the Tanabata, she'd tried other methods. Other things that could perhaps draw the boy out, even though she knew at heart it had been a chance meeting. All it had done was get her in more trouble. People avoided her further. No-one would play with her now. She was herself, and she was resented. As a young girl, she didn't know much about the opposite sex, and whilst she had read and listened and heard, the opinions of others could easily be wrong. So she hunted. One by one. She knew on one level she was searching for the boy, but it was always worth it to try, right?

She never really noticed that the core of her search had changed. She had wanted acceptance, the boy had given it her. Without words, but with actions. With quiet dignity and rational calm that made him impossible to doubt.

But none of them passed the test. None of them were interesting. All were boring, single minded and after her for only one reason. She knew she was pretty - her parents had told her often enough from an early enough age for it be fully stamped into her personality as fact, and this made her take it for granted. The fact that it was true only served to prevent this facet ever being shaken. Yes, she was pretty. So what? Lots of people were. Many of them got paid for it.

In a way, she felt betrayed. She closed off again. She was herself, and she was sure of that. Everything else simply wasn't worth the effort. She sailed through life, and she was her. Once she reached North High, she could start searching again. She had a goal, she could wait. She'd always been waiting.

She managed it. She entered North High. It wasn't much of an achievements by others' standards, and her parents baulked, but by hers, it was perfect. It had potential.

And renewed, the Search began. She made herself loud and clear right from the start. She knew there was something to be found, she wanted that something to know she was there. No point in hiding or subtlety, why bother? She wanted to be found. Staying quiet defied the point.

But, it seemed, rationality had caught up with her. That was nothing unusual about North High, save the fact that she was in it. It held some hopes, and that was all. She couldn't understand why. Hadn't she searched? Hadn't she looked? Hadn't she even announced that she was there? But no. There was nothing.

She hadn't really known failure. She felt she knew it now. But she was always herself, and she clung to that. That would not change. She wouldn't let it. Other people didn't matter.

Until someone asked about her hair.

A/N time! This was originally going to be the start of Flipswitch's Chapter 7, but it didn't fit. Then I figured it would work in Parallel Running, as Itsuki is a lot more focussed on and understanding of Haruhi's psyche. At which point, this actually turned into an exploration of said psyche, and grew into something of it's own. The earlier bits (prior to 'three years ago') will probably crop up in P.R. at some point, with the effects changed... but by the time that happens, you'll all be old and grey anyway, so no-one will notice :P. Mwahahaha, mine is a fickle plan.

Enjoy!

-MrCJ