Disclaimer: No ownership over the Suzumiya Haruhi series. Inspired by "Paradise" by Vanessa Carlton and "Who Knew" by Pink.

Rating may change to "M" for sexual content in future chapters. The "{}" are conflicting and more honest thoughts to show how much the narrator is lying to themselves. It will be done rarely. "Fuu~" of course, is laughter. The narrator, for once, is Koizumi Itsuki.

Important Note: Please read the author note at the end of the prologue. Thanks for choosing this story!

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[][]-Prologue-[][]

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Othello.

White is winning. Black is losing.

Are you already starting to feel as queasy as I do? Let's swallow the vomit down together.

I tap my white piece on the living room table, and then reach over to make a losing move that will kick some normalcy back into the game. We haven't played in four years, so what kind of normalcy am I hoping for? Asami's purring as she head-butts my ankle for some loving affection {I fucking hate cats}.

I smile.

My opponent frowns.

I grin even wider.

"Suzumiya-san should be back soon," My own words aren't helping me; she's been gone for two days, ever since his arrival into Tokyo. She knew he would be coming {she's selfish, selfish, SELFISH!}. My smile is calm as water; my opponent's face is calmer than water {and it's getting under my skin; crawling and worming and pulsing and eating and tearing...I want to maul it right off. I want to get to the brain}.

The ceiling fan keeps propelling. He sips on the Suntory Gold whisky in his cup. The calmness in my opponent is {driving me INSANE} actually tension, but it hasn't bothered me. I want to break the ice, but I'm {afraid} waiting for the right time.

As I glance at the stove in the kitchen, I imagine a maid-dressed Asahina Mikuru hunching over the teakettle as she brews a delicious tea with a determined frown that I, aside from everyone else, believes fits her character. She'd pop her head up and blink at me, and then chime a stuttering, "Oh, um…yes! It's almost ready!" My imagination melts into reality and I'm left looking at a lonely teakettle on a lonely stove.

As I glance at the chair in the corner, I imagine Nagato Yuki righting her glasses as she weighs a novel in one palm like an artist's muse. She wouldn't pop her head up and blink at me, but she'd acknowledge me. My imagination melts into reality and I'm looking at what's left—my opponent sitting across from me.

I hum.

My opponent twitches.

I smil—

(((CrAsH)))

—The Othello board explodes against the kitchen doorframe after being tossed across the living room. Wooden chips and black and white Othello pieces rain everywhere, but I don't flinch. I keep {losing my mind} smiling. The clattering of the game-board pieces eventually stops.

Oh my.

So he's finally lost it too.

...{Fuu~}...

I'm sadistic enough to admit I have been waiting for it with a grin, having been jealous that out of all of us in the Brigade, his head always stayed screwed on tight. Yet now that he's lost his sanity, I'm trying not to laugh {in horror}. I smilingly watch the spot where the board game had been. I can feel how hot his panting breaths are, and I can see how limp his hands look as he stumbles up on his feet.

"This…is sick…" His voice isn't angry-sounding, because its volume is almost all dried up.

O-Oh my {Fuu~}.

His legs move out of my sight as he stomps across the room; sounds of him squirming into his coat are all I can fathom. He mumbles something, and I think he even addressed me, but I'm as far gone as he is because I lost it a long time ago. Two years ago, to be exact. The front door swung open and then, with a pause, slammed shut. The wet strain irritates my eyes during my staring contest with the spot where the Othello board had been. Now no one's here in this quiet apartment complex Suzumiya-san and I share. I was the only one left, and that irony has a rather coppery flavor.

…I laugh the unshed tears out of my unblinking eyes at my own joke.

It is sick. I'll even throw 'morbid' in there for you, Kyon. Horrendously morbid.

It's morbid how four years after graduating from North High and losing contact with one another, this is the outcome of our 'High School Reunion' between you, Haruhi, and myself. Who knew that after high school, the SOS Brigade would prove that it wasn't immortal, and Suzumiya Haruhi would prove to be needy and dependent with emotional disorders I don't even know how to handle? The world hasn't ended. It doesn't even make sense.

…Sometimes I wonder if it was the intention of our superiors; of the Integrated Data Sentient Entity, the Time Travelers, and the Organization, but then I convince myself how stupid that would be. It's as though there's a gap in my memories that prevents me from understanding what really happened between all of us in the SOS Brigade. To split up so permanently had always been unthinkable, because as long as Suzumiya-san walks the Earth, we have to observe her {it's BULLSHIT!!}.

Now none of us, neither Haruhi nor I, are sane anymore. None of us are normal. Not even you, Kyon {we're all fucked up}.

…You could say, "Good job, Suzumiya-san."

I drink my coffee.

Mm...

Not sweet enough.

Author's Note: Not so much of a prologue, but...ah well. Are you wracking your brain for what happened before all this? Good!

You're probably mad anyway because I'm still making you guess what set Kyon's trigger, what he's referring to as "sick", why Haruhi would share Koizumi's apartment to begin with, why her, Asahina and Nagato aren't there, why Koizumi seems a little OFF (Don't worry, he gets 'saner'), and why the HELL it's so short, but…the details would overkill this beginning chapter, so the next chapter will be a recap! Stay tuned for it!

...Not to mention I had little time to write this. On the spur of a moment thing, y'know?

If you want such questions answered, then say so! =p I'm almost excited about continuing the story. I'm almost making another! I'm excited about that too!