A/N: So this is my first Haruhi Suzumiya fanfic! I have an idea that I'm pretty excited about, so I'm hoping I can get updates out pretty often. (No promises, of course.)It takes place immediately after Disappearance, but I don't think that should be a problem for anyone. Also, I'm only familiar with the anime adaption.

Since this is my first time writing for the universe, I'll have to ask that anyone more familiar with it than I can point out any errors for me. Anything from someone seeming OOC to something I say going against the canon to a character being referred to by the wrong name/honorific. (And of course any spg mistakes. ^_^)

Hope you enjoy! : )

Kyon slouched forward as he tried to make his way to the clubroom, his arms wrapped tightly around himself as if trying to hold in the warmth. He'd spent all morning mumbling about the cold, and it seemed he'd finally decided to drop it. That, or his jaw was simply shaking too much to allow him to pronounce anything coherent.

Finally his journey came to an end, and with a hand turning the knob the door to the clubroom swung open to allow the him passage.

For a moment he thought the room empty, save for Nagato in the back. Then he spotted three bodies huddled together on the floor around the small space heater. Koizumi, on the side closest to the door, looked up at the sudden intrusion, his palms extended towards the heater and his usual friendly smile in place.

Asahina, the farthest away, was trying her best to stay close enough to the heater to keep warm without getting so close as to risk accidentally setting her maid costume on fire. She as well offered up a quick smile and uttered a soft greeting, to which Kyon hastily returned. Which smile of the two he was happier to see was a question not even worth asking.

Haruhi sat in the center, sending him little more than a bored glance as she rubbed her hands together. He thought her subdued behavior was a little odd, but he decided there was no point in complaining about God's little miracles.

Nagato sat by herself in her usual spot in the corner, a blanket draped neatly over her lap and a book in hand. She looked like some kind of a doll, sitting there motionless, the illusion only breaking for a moment as she would turn a page.

Kyon, noticing that there once again didn't seem to be any vacancies around the space heater, headed toward his normal seat at the table with a sigh. Picking up a discarded manga on the way, he plopped down in his chair and flipped to the last page he'd read. This was more or less how yesterday had gone as well. It wasn't too exciting, sure, but it wasn't terrible either. He was still recovering from his run in a few days ago with a recently resurrected Asakura, and even if he felt fine he wasn't sure if it was a great idea to be running around again. He still flinched every time he saw someone with blue hair.

Maybe Haruhi's thinking the same thing? he wondered absently. After all, it wasn't like her to have nothing planned for their meetings. While at first it was just an idle thought passing through his head, the more he thought about it the more he had to wonder if he wasn't right. Then with a bit of dry humor thought, Or maybe she's just cold, and returned to his manga.

He hadn't realized how much time had passed until he went to set the newly finished manga down, the hour hand on the clock seeming to have jumped several hours in the span of a few minutes.

Oh, wait, that is the minute hand...

It's gonna be a long day.

"See ya tomorrow," Kyon gave a half-hearted parting. The others replied in turn as they all went their separate ways. They'd just been to the café, where he'd been forced to treat everyone to the most expensive drink on the menu. Just to rub salt in the wound, the drink was horrible, and they all wound up just sitting there. Asahina would take tentative sips every now and then just to keep from wasting it, the considerate person that she was, but despite her efforts, there was still more than half a cup left after she'd finished. Everyone did with the exception of Nagato, who apparently didn't have a problem with it. Or, for all he knew, drank it regardless.

That was his and Haruhi's agreement after all. It was his penalty for having fallen down the stairs. Maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to ask her what I'd have to do, he reflected. At this rate he might have to take up a part time job just to pay for all of these 'penalties' being thrust upon him.

This thought occupied his mind as he walked home, his imagination playing with different scenarios where he'd just suddenly announce that he was going to be getting a job and couldn't be bothered to attend the brigade meetings anymore. I wonder if they'd try to stop me. The 'they' he was referring to being Itsuki, Asahina and Nagato. What lengths would they go to to keep him in the S.O.S. Brigade?

Itsuki's people thought that Haruhi was God, and that if she were to be so much as displeased with the world around her she could completely erase it and recreate it from scratch. If they believed that his leaving the S.O.S. Brigade would have some kind of negative impact on Haruhi - and chances are, they did - would Itsuki's faction be above using force?

It was perhaps the first time that he'd ever thought about them in that way. They were allies now, but what if they wanted to do something that he disagreed with? He knew that the ESPers had amassed a considerable influence, at least in Japan, and likely throughout the world.

I guess it doesn't matter, he decided. After all, I still have the ultimate trump card. Just like he'd told the Data Integration Thought Entity, he possessed the ultimate weapon. Haruhi Suzumiya herself. All he'd have to do would be to reveal himself as John Smith, and all of the pieces should fall into place just like with her alternative self he met in the altered timeline. It was still a gamble, but he doubted it was a gamble they were willing to take.

I wonder if I should even be having these kinds of thoughts, he thought. It's not like I have any reason to distrust them.

He did his best to try and redirect the focus of his mind. When that wasn't going as well as he'd hoped, he tried to find something interesting in his immediate vicinity. Well, that wasn't really much of a help. Just the same old same old.

He turned his gaze skyward, watching as a cloud temporarily concealed the setting sun. A gentle breeze blew past, though everywhere it touched exposed skin it was like a cold knife digging into his flesh. At that thought, several unhappy memories came flooding back to the surface. Perhaps he should try to keep from making such exaggerations for the foreseeable future.

A shudder rolled down his spine, and at first he simply thought it was either the fault of the breeze or his own unfortunately vivid imagination. The sensation that immediately followed it, however, was quite a different one than either of those would have brought on.

He sent a curious look over his shoulder, finding the street behind him deserted. I could have sworn someone was following me, he mused. I must be getting paranoid. He felt he was entitled to at least a little bit of paranoia. But as they say, out of sight, out of mind, and quickly enough he'd thought up other idle matters to occupy himself with.

He stomped up to the front door to shake the moist clingy snow off his shoes the best he could before stepping inside. He could smell something spicy lingering in the air, perfect for a night such as tonight. He allowed himself a moment to take it in before shedding his wet sneakers and calling out to all those inside. "I'm home!"