DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, but I do own the original characters introduced in this story and my other stories (except where stated otherwise here or elsewhere by myself). The exceptions are Oruki and Naru Suzumiya, ~Haruhi's parents, who JonBob0008 has given permission for use of.

A/N: Cheers again go to Crazyeight for beta-reading. Oh, and, I suggest you watch the whole of the anime (okay, you can skip out bits of Endless Eight) so far before reading this to avoid spoilers. I haven't read the remainder of the books though, so there's no obligation for that.

I love these times, early in the morning. Even if you do wake up at some ungodly early hour, you can simply doze around in a state of fantastic bliss until your sister runs in and jumps on you. That's just me, of course, although, oddly, this morning she was being a bit more polite.

A 'bit' is the key word there of course. She was knocking on my door, very loudly and very hard.

Now, if I was a bit more awake, I would've probably asked myself how an eleven year old could thump so hard, or, why an eleven year old would knock in the first place.

Give me a break. It was only…six-forty. Earlier than usual.

Oh, no, wait, that's a seven. I'm dead.

"Get up and stop being so lazy!"

The door had swung open, and apparently my sister had taken on a rather deeper voice. Or, alternatively, the man now gruffly heading downstairs wasn't her. Or my dad either, unless he had been drinking a lot last night. The door slammed again, far more than my sister ever could do, and the sound jarred me awake.

But, of course, my mind was still a bit too frazzled as I clambered out of bed. I should've been perturbed that the wall had changed sides in the night, but, fresh from pleasant dreams (a rarity for me), I just turned over and got out the other side.

My mind swam as I stood up, but it wasn't unusual. My blurry eyes were quickly solved by a wipe, and as I staggered across the room, I somehow managed not to notice anything was amiss until I placed my hand on the door handle.

Doesn't our house have door-handles?

Blinking groggily, I turned around, and it was then that I realised something else was definitely off.

"Who took my room?"

I'm glad no-one was around to hear that. Worse still, my voice sounded like it hadn't broken yet. I must have had an awful night's sleep.

Wandering across the room, I stared at the walls, far more full than anything I've ever had. Posters of sci-fi movies, random drawings and writings, and a tall mirror at the end, one of those with wavy sides that I wouldn't have picked in a million years.

Stepping in front of it, it became pretty clear why this room seemed bizarre, yet oddly familiar. Not for having seen it before, I mean, but having seen a lot that was similar.

For there, staring straight at me were none other than the brown eyes of one Miss Haruhi Suzumiya.

THE CURIOSITY OF HARUHI SUZUMIYA II

By Blazing Chaos

"You're kidding."

I did a double take, both at how my words sounded and at the sight before me. Haruhi in the mirror copied me. Or I copied her. Whatever.

"What the hell?"

Looking down, I found it wasn't just a trick mirror. Hair fell past the side of my face, loose and unkempt, while I finally took notice of a distinctly heavier feeling about the chest and the fact my eye-line was suddenly a lot lower down than normal.

"Okay, this is some…messed up dream."

Unlike most people, that was just an option in my case. Maybe this was the work of Itsuki's Organisation to get revenge for how I ignored him last night. Or maybe it was just Nagato modifying my data or whatever she calls it.

I was being naïve, of course. This was unequivocally and undoubtedly the work of Suzumiya.

Or a dream. Please let it be a dream. For once, let it actually be a dream!

"Haruhi, breakfast! Hurry up!"

Just who was that gruff voice anyhow? Was it her father? I'd never actually met Haruhi's parents or been to her house, so I had no way of knowing if this is accurate or if I'm just dreaming it up. I would say it's too realistic for a dream, but even my real life isn't all that realistic nowadays.

I looked down again, as I think my mind woke up enough to realise just how uncomfortable this situation was. I was in the body of Haruhi. No, wait, maybe I am Haruhi. But that's impossible. So impossible!

I'm afraid to even scratch my own arse for fear that I'm somehow crossing a line. Then again, it is my arse. And I wouldn't normally have any…

"HARUHI!"

"Coming!"

Rushing out the door for fear that whatever the voice was coming from would, well, kill me (it sounded pretty dangerous, after all), I headed down the stairs as quickly as I could, but I found myself completely unable to miss out as many steps as I normally would in a hurry. I haven't been this short for years.

You know, I probably should've paid more attention to where that voice came from, instead of now having to wait for him to shout again just to find out where the kitchen, or dining room, or whatever is.

Haruhi's house – if it is Haruhi's house – for all I've seen of it so far while half asleep and very confused, reminds me a bit of my own. It seems all very homely and normal, even if it does seem to be filled wall to wall with various knick-knacks made of wood or looking straight out of the school's occult club. Did Haruhi get them?

"Haruhi, dear. Breakfast is ready."

I was so glad to not hear that gruff voice again, only angrier. This new one seemed light, female, airy, optimistic, and hauntingly like Haruhi's. Was this her mother?

I didn't yet want to put down the idea that this was a dream, but it seemed less and less so with everything that happened.

"Okay."

Even with the voice to guide me, I still went through the wrong door in Haruhi's living room. It was just like the rest of what I'd seen, actually – full of random items, only in this case with the addition of a television and a couch.

The kitchen turned out to be at the back of the house, and as I entered the optimistic voice from before greeted me. "Good morning Haruhi! You're up late today, are you feeling well?"

I blinked; looking over the woman who I was now pretty sure was Haruhi's mother. Her smile matched her voice, warm and calm, and looking almost unbreakable as she took some bowls in the table and put them the sink. I couldn't quite place the hair at first, but the style looked pretty familiar.

"I'm…okay." I couldn't have been lying more if I tried. I wasn't okay. I definitely was not okay. You know yesterday, when I said that everything was a pain? I'd rather go back there than this.

A newspaper ruffled, as my eyes shifted to the man behind it at the breakfast table. For his voice, he looked surprisingly young, although that was probably thanks to the fact he was well-built, probably thanks to a lot of exercise. In fact, both of them seemed pretty young. Were they really my parents?

I mean, were they really Haruhi's parents?

He looked to me, rather less happily than his wife. "What's wrong? You never wake up late. Are you trying to skip school again?"

She has before? Oh, wait…I remember. "No?"

"No?"

"I mean, no, I'm not."

"Hurry up and have your breakfast already then."

"Oruki, maybe Haruhi's not feeling well."

Finally. Someone sympathises. I think I could grow to like Haruhi's mother. Not like that.

Oruki looked me in the eyes. He didn't seem to share his wife's sympathy. "You can move about, right? Then you're perfectly well."

I'm starting to understand why Haruhi thinks I can withstand all the torture she puts me through.

"If you feel too bad at school, just go to the nurse's office and we'll come pick you up," his wife said happily, smiling. "We can't have our little Haruhi feeling under the weather."

I wish she had inherited more from her mother.

"Thanks."

She continued to smile, one of those closed-eyes smiles which Itsuki has an annoying habit of doing, as she placed a bowl of cornflakes in front of me. I found myself raising a spoonful to my eyes, and staring at them like she had just dropped a bowl of spinach in front of me.

In case you're wondering, I don't like cornflakes. But, that smile would make me do anything. Here's betting it does nothing for Haruhi.

I struggled through the spoonfuls, making sure to smile whenever Haruhi's mother looked in my direction. Apparently I didn't get Haruhi's taste buds as part of all this. In fact, just how does this work? If I'm Haruhi now, why do I have my own thoughts still, and why can't I find any of her memories? No, wait, how am I her? This is just…impossible.

If Haruhi wished for this…why? Why on earth would she want this? Is she trying to teach me a lesson?

If she's not God, then I'd like to speak to the real God that gave her those powers. Infallibility my arse.

Once I finished the bowl, probably in three times as long as it would've taken Suzumiya herself, I hit upon a rather curious thought. If I'm Haruhi now…and she has the power to change reality to suit her wishes, then maybe I have the power to change reality to suit my wishes.

But how would I find out? How would I test it?

I always remember all those psychics who would bend spoons with their mind, and they were always on television. Haruhi probably loved watching them. I hated it – it was so obvious the spoons were weakened or something like that. But, right now, I was game to try anything to confirm my suspicions.

Holding the spoon upright, I stared at it intently, wanting it to bend.

It didn't, because in reality I don't want it to bend. It makes no sense for it to bend. Just how does Haruhi manage to simply believe all these things so easily? Is her common sense really that dented?

"What on earth are you doing?"

There was that gruff voice again, Oruki Suzumiya. Was he always on Haruhi's case this much?

"Aw, you're trying to bend a spoon. Can I try?!"

Before I could really notice, Haruhi's mother had taken the spoon from my hand and was now holding it so close to her face I was pretty sure it was touching her nose. Is she trying to mock me?

There was no sign of it though. In fact, she looked more eager than anyone else I've ever seen before. Is she…insane? So that's what Haruhi inherited from her, other than the looks and…ah, that's where I remember the hair from. It's almost exactly like what Haruhi had when I first met her.

"Aw…"

The first frown I've ever seen on her face almost broke my heart to see. This is as bad as seeing Asahina depressed, although I doubt she would be so intent on bending a spoon with her mind.

Oruki seemed almost completely unfazed. "Go and get ready for school." He ordered.

I complied as quickly as I could, hearing a far more cheerful version of the man's words from his wife as I went. Just how did these two ever become a couple?

For a moment, I almost got lost again in the house, since at the top of the stairs I couldn't actually remember what room I was in. I opened every door to find out. Other than Haruhi's room, they had a spare room, a master bedroom, and a bathroom. I'll have to remember that last one for later.

Oh no. It's just occurred to me how interesting that will be. Did I say interesting? I meant…horrifying.

I found myself back in Haruhi's room again, for the first time in my right mind. Well, sort of.

"I wonder where she keeps her clothes."

I just realised that, not only would that sound very confusing if Haruhi's parents (or siblings, if she has any) were in earshot, but also that, if I am going to be wearing Haruhi's clothes, then I am going to work out what on earth she would actually wear to school. And I'm not talking about the uniform.

I found the clock on the bedside table. Seven fifty-five. Now I normally set off for school about eight…okay, quarter past, so if I hurry I might not be late to class. In fact, why should I be worried? It's Haruhi who'll be late, and she has an almost spotless record. She can stand to be a few minutes over.

I better shower first though.

In the bathroom, which I found to be a bit smaller than mine at home, I found myself gulping in fear as I pulled off the loose pink pyjama top and bottoms. Haruhi would kill me. In fact, maybe Haruhi is still in me. Maybe she's now yelling at me. Maybe she can hear everything I'm thinking.

Crap. Shouldn't have just thought about all that God stuff, should I? If she didn't know before, she sure as hell would know now.

If you're wondering why I'm musing so much, it's because I'm trying to distract myself while in the shower from what I really want to look at. You can't blame a teenage boy trapped in a teenage girl's body, can you? I mean, in this position, honestly, wouldn't you?

I'm really hoping you agree with me, since otherwise I'm pretty sure your thoughts of me just hit the floor.

Anyway, as I dried myself off…or herself off…I tried to ignore the rather…uh…interesting movements in the chest and elsewhere. In fact, I tried to ignore a lot of things, not least the mirror. I really don't want to look at myself right now. I mean, it's not even me. It's her. And I can't look at her face like this without being a bit freaked out.

Did I say a bit? I meant a lot. A heck of a lot. I'm can't say I'm not used to things being unusual, but this beats the lot of them.

It took me a while to realise that, for all I tried to dry it, Haruhi's hair wouldn't stop being damp. How do girls normally deal with this? I looked around, trying to see if there was a blow-dryer or anything nearby.

In the end, I had to wrap a towel round me, nervously shuffle out down the hallway back into Haruhi's room, search through all her drawers (and things I didn't want to see yet) find a dryer, plug it in, spend the next few minutes probably burning Haruhi's hair, and even then be irritated by how damp it still was.

I was beginning to understand why it was so unusual for Haruhi to be up so late.

Glancing to the clock, I found it was already past eight. So much for having lots of time. I really hope I can run like she does.

Opening the underwear drawer, I decided that if Haruhi were still in this mind, she would kill me once things were back to normal.

My mind, or her mind, or whatever, chose this moment to offer an unsettling alternative: if they were ever back to normal.

Although I have to say, I can't think of any other reason why I wouldn't want the status quo back. I like the status quo. I like being a guy. I like looking at queues outside the ladies' toilets, I'm glad I don't have to deal with that every month, and I'm definitely glad I never have to learn what childbirth is like. Yes, I do enjoy being a guy. It's the way things are.

Having slipped onto my lower half a pair of panties, it quickly occurred to me that I had no idea how to fasten a bra, let alone behind my back.

Apparently someone else doesn't like how the way things are.

Still, it seemed a bit sick and twisted for Haruhi to want this of all things: me, standing in her body in front of a mirror, desperately fighting time to change into her clothes. Even she wasn't this far from reality. Then again, she wasn't usually embarrassed by such things – only once had she ever told me to leave when she was changing, and that was the day when Haruhi had nearly ended the world.

Itsuki seemed pretty sure that it was my fault, and so did the other two. I am the 'chosen one', after all. Whatever that means. In all honesty, I'd say that, at least among us five, I am the most normal. No special powers, no organisations, and no obligation to stay. Apart from this whole 'chosen one' thing. Just what did they mean?

Did it have to do with three years ago?

Sighing, I shrugged off the events of that unusual day, the event that seemed to somehow have triggered everything even if to this day I was still not entirely sure why. When we met, Haruhi recognised me. Maybe that was why.

Once I finally managed to get on the school's sailor-like uniform for girls, I looked back in that mirror again. It didn't look entirely right – the hair wasn't done yet for starters, not that I had a clue how to do it – but it was haunting how much this was the same Suzumiya I saw every day.

I began to rummage through the drawers again, realising that what was now missing were those two yellow bows she always wears. I was surprised what lengths I was going to with getting things spot on, but then again, I don't want people asking questions until I know what's going on myself.

I found the bows as hard to tie up as the bra, and I couldn't stop staring at the minutes counting away. I wasted even more time trying to find her bag and books, and almost forgot the maths homework sitting on the desk. I tried not to look – I didn't want to know just how many questions I managed to get wrong.

The cell phone on the top was the last thing I picked up on the way out, glancing briefly to the time. 08:15. I rushed through brushing her teeth, grabbed my lunch from her still-optimistic mother (bent spoon in hand, although I suspected Oruki's involvement in it) and only realised on the way out that I'd forgotten deodorant, makeup, and probably a billion other things. Haruhi will kill me.

I got to the end of Haruhi's road before I realised that I had no idea where she lived, and only ten minutes until homeroom started. Damn it.

The school's on a hill, so you think it'd be easy to find. Only problem was, all I could see around was houses. Just how was I meant to find this place? It could've been close, or I could've been so far from it that I didn't stand a chance.

I ran down the nearest road, pleasantly surprised that it practically flew by – thank god for Haruhi's legs. This might not be all that bad.

At the end, I looked up and down the roads. Did any of them lead upwards? Was there any way to tell? The hill had to be somewhere, right? Haruhi couldn't live that far from the school, or she'd have gone to another High School.

But then again, Haruhi transferred into my school on purpose, at least, that's what I think happened. I told her I was a North High pupil before. If I know Haruhi, she would've crossed the whole city to get to that place. Would certainly explain why I had to look after Shimasen when we were filming last year. And why she's so athletic. I felt like I should've been gasping for breath by now.

It was then that I saw a familiar face coming the other way up the road, one I found myself for the first time truly glad to see. As I ran over to him, I could see the look of confusion in his eyes, and only then did it occur to me that the last thing Kunikida was expecting to see at this time in the morning was a badly-dressed Haruhi Suzumiya with no makeup and damp hair running up to him.

"Hey." I couldn't help myself, even though I knew that the pair of them had probably never actually said a word to each other. It was Taniguchi who was at Haruhi's old school – Kunikida went to mine.

"Uh…hi Suzumiya."

The poor boy looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. I would've been if I were him, meeting the infamous Suzumiya in person. She was not the sort of person you'd ask for an autograph from.

"Listen, I was wondering…"

Come on, think of something. There has to be some reason I can ask him where the school is. Think, dammit, think Kyon.

Wait…think Kyon? That's it!

"Do you know which way Kyon goes to school?" That doesn't sound Haruhi-like at all. What would she say? And why would she be looking for him…I mean…me? "He has been given the responsibility of keeping one of the Brigade's most valued possessions safe overnight, and as Brigade Chief I want to administer the death penalty if he hasn't."

Job done. Phew.

"Oh, okay. I'm not too sure which way he goes, but he comes up the hill on the side of the school so you'll want to head there and double back." Thankfully, in saying this, Kunikida subconsciously gestured which way he was heading, off down a side road. I'm so glad now I didn't just head in a straight line from where he was walking.

"Thanks."

As I set off at Haruhi's breakneck pace yet again, I could imagine just how confused he looked right now. At least it meant I wasn't too far from the school – Kunikida was rarely late, and he didn't seem in too much of a hurry to get there.

Even so, it took me the better part of ten minutes to climb up yet another hill, one which I have the nagging suspicion is steeper than mine. God hates me, I'm sure of it.

It felt strange to approach the school from the other direction, and it didn't help that I nearly got lost again. Let's just hope this is like the movies and it only recurs…once. I don't think my sanity could survive anything else.

Once I arrived, I couldn't see any sign of Kyon. I mean, me. Heck, maybe Haruhi is still in this body after all? I'm so glad I don't have to hear whatever lecture she has probably come up with about why I'm no good at being her. You know, it may have been a mistake to think that.

If I'm not here though, and I normally do arrive this late, then maybe…maybe the worst happened…

As I gulped, I decided to quickly check around the lockers, especially Miss Asahina's. I don't think I'm awake enough to hear one of Koizumi's lectures about whatever I did wrong this time. And I'm definitely not smart enough to decipher Nagato right now.

Nothing. Nothing at all. I don't even know where Haruhi's is. Maybe I should try my own…

It was too late, as the bell went. It doesn't matter – I don't have my key anyhow, so looks like I'm stuck dragging Haruhi's books around all day. I decided to head up to class. At least Haruhi didn't seem to talk to anyone on the way to school – I didn't have to worry about sounding like her all the time.

Still, I really don't think I could've made it here if it weren't for Haruhi's freakish speed. Only Nagato beat her lap time in the relay this year. I wonder why Haruhi's never called her out on that. She's probably too fixated on the SOS Brigade winning at any cost. I would say I admire her determination, but right now I'm starting to get very worried about what I'm about to find in class.

Will she be there? No, wait, that'd be impossible. I am her. And she wasn't at her house. So what…?

Oh no! Please don't tell me…

Sliding back the door to our homeroom, I finally realised what had evaded me all morning, something now sitting in the seat second from the back by the window.

It was a haunting and unnerving sight, one which I was sure would last with me for the rest of my days.

"Kyon!"

Me.

Only thing is, I've never smiled that much in the morning. Or shaped my hair like that. And I've definitely never looked that eagerly at anyone coming in the door. Or shouted (my own name!) anywhere near that optimistically or loudly to them…

"You're here!"

She didn't even seem shocked to see me like this…like her. Damn it, why am I always the last one to work things like this out? And how can she just brush this off so easily?

"You'll never guess what happened!" She slammed her hands down on the desk with an even wider smile. I had to rush over to her…err…him, before he gave the game away, falling down into her usual seat as quickly as I could.

The face stared over at me.

If I was Haruhi…then…

"I'm you!"

Good grief!

A/N: Hehe, this ending was hopefully predictable enough that you had a foreboding feeling it was coming, but still surprising enough that it actually played out. Next time, we'll find out Haruhi's views on all this, as if the last few lines aren't enough of an indication! But, first of all, I want to get another Book Seven chapter done (it's already five and a half thousand words), and then I'll add on to this. Hope you enjoyed this, and I hope you're looking forward to next time too. Oh, and apologies for the continuing bugs with this site and this story – I haven't yet worked out what the problem is I'm afraid.

Oh, and also, Haruhi's parents (Oruki and Naru) from Meet the Suzumiyas are used with permission from the author, JonBob0008. Hope I characterised them well.

Until next time…

B.C.