disclaimer: the light novel series begun with 'the melancholy of suzumiya haruhi'/'suzumiya haruhi no yuuutsu' is the property of tanigawa nagaru and is used here without permission. no disrespect is meant with the posting of this story.
note: ignores one particular scene in novel 11, and may contain spoilers up to that point. this is a less than happy story, though it will strive to be as uplifting as it can, considering what it's about. hopefully the ending is positive, but it's generally a very sad story, and some of your favorite characters may have to suffer ... because that's the nature of life, isn't it? so make the most of what you've got. what else can you really do?
To me, it seemed to have direct immediacy. It was very like a film splice, the scene abruptly changing. What director was responsible for this?
I had no idea who, but in my opinion they were doing a poor job! This audience couldn't follow the story at all!
One moment the world around me was tumbling apart, and the next I was blinking and staring up at the overhead lights and laying in a bed. How had that happened? Where was the sensible transition? That was the point where someone would demand their money back, wasn't it? I certainly wanted to be reimbursed!
...but this wasn't the first time this had happened to me, was it? "What..." I managed, grimacing at how my voice was slurred.
Almost immediately, Haruhi's anxious expression filled my field of vision, a hand pressing against my chest and restraining me as I tried to sit up.
"You're awake!" she exclaimed, her face still carrying that same unfamiliar look. "You-- How do you feel?"
How did I feel? Off balance, for one. Not in the sense that I was having a hard time understanding what was going on, but more like I felt tilted to one side. I tried to right myself, but Haruhi frowned sternly, her small hands against me holding me firmly in place.
"Dizzy," I answered. My tongue felt thick and unresponsive, keeping my voice a mumbled slur. "What ... happened?"
Haruhi sagged in response, looking away, though she continued holding me in place. "Don't try and move," she instructed, finally releasing me, and moving out of my field vision. I tried to turn my head to follow her, but when I did, it felt like a giant had seized the room and begun to tilt it wildly -- was this how an ant might feel when someone shook the ant-farm?
One of Haruhi's hands returned to push me firmly back into place as the bed rocketed upward beneath me, launching me upward at a few thousand kilometers per hour. Impossibly, the ceiling didn't zoom toward me, so the entire hospital must have been launching into space. Only, after I had a few heartbeats to adjust, I realized that according to my vision the bed was tilting upward at a reasonable, sedate pace.
There was something else going on, too. I could hear a hushed mechanical sound -- the mechanism that moved the bed -- but it was imbalanced. For whatever reason, it was only on one side of me. When it finally stopped, I heard Haruhi heave a hushed sigh.
From this new position, sitting upright (tumbling forward, according to my traitorous inner ear), I could see that it was growing dark outside. I was in a familiar enough room ... the same one I had woken up in the last time something like this had happened, at a glance.
I was curious and almost wanted to lean over to see if the same sleeping bag were beside the bed again, but with Haruhi standing beside me and keeping one hand on me to pin me in place, that wasn't going to happen.
"What do you remember?" she asked anxiously.
"Walking to the donation center?" I answered, turning to look at her -- and then stopping, when the motion made me feel like I was spinning wildly through the atmosphere. She twisted around, not letting go as she hopped onto the side of the bed to enter my field of vision. "I guess I ... fell over?"
She scowled, nodding. "You did," she agreed. "We were walking together and you suddenly collapsed and began seizing. I thought it was heatstroke, maybe. Someone must have seen and called an ambulance-- Do you have any idea how worried I was?" Her expression darkened, giving me an angry scowl. "You can't scare me like that, you understand? It's forbidden! This is why I complain about your constitution!"
"But-- But what happened?" I asked again, trying to shake my head, but giving up immediately at the mad sensation of tumbling.
"They're still running tests," she answered unhappily. "You're fine, though, right?"
"How long was I out?"
She pursed her lips and shook her head. "Just a few hours -- but that's a few hours too many!" she grumbled, looking quickly toward the door, hopping from the bed as the door opened.
At that point, I didn't trust myself to turn, so remained in place as a doctor moved to the foot of my bed. He wasn't familiar, but looked fairly young.
"Hello, there!" he said in a cheerful voice, giving me a warm smile. "Good to see you're back with us!"
"What happened?" I asked, suspecting I was going to be asking that question rather a lot.
"Hopefully we can find that out soon," he replied, hefting a clipboard. He glanced to one side, nodding at Haruhi, and then ran through a long series of questions. What had I eaten recently. Did I recall any unusual events lately. Had I felt more tired than usual.
I answered them all, thinking of the darkness and rushing sound I had experienced, and explaining the strange sensation of falling. He frowned at that, nodding, then did some simple tests. Could my eyes follow a pen light? Could I remember basic facts like my name, date of birth, and home address? How well did I remember events from my childhood?
From the bed, I tried some basic coordination tests as well -- things I could do with my hands. I felt much clumsier than I thought I should be. After those, he moved my arms so my hands could grip the hospital bed's handrails and I tried to sit up--
It was harder than I thought it should be. It wasn't tiring, but I felt that I should be tumbling to one side the entire time, and my inner-ear refused to cooperate and be sensible. Turning my head while sitting up made it even worse! There were a handful of other tests, and at the end, his bright smile had faded to a tight, concerned line.
Finally, I settled back to the bed, keeping my eyes open to try and fight off the sensation of falling.
"Okay," he sighed, shaking his head slowly. "We're going to need to wait on the results to know for certain. Your symptoms aren't terribly different from a stroke, but I have a hard time thinking that could happen to someone your age. However, you do seem to have lost some functionality in the area of your right ear, which is why your sense of balance seems off. That's the cause for your balance and hearing issues."
"I could hear fine this morning!" I protested, confused. What was going on?
"These effects could be temporary, but unfortunately, we don't have enough information to be entirely certain. You were in here for falling a few months ago, weren't you? Was that due to a sudden loss of balance like this one?"
I could hardly tell him what really happened there! "I ... don't remember what led up to that, just waking up in the hospital," I answered.
"It could be some late residual effect from that," he said, spreading his hands in a shrug. "While you were still unconscious last time, we did an MRI. I'll see about pulling up those records, though we'll probably give you another to compare results."
Really? That sounded pretty intense!
"So he can't go home?" Haruhi asked anxiously.
"Not yet," the doctor agreed, shaking his head at the Brigade chief. "Until his sense of balance works itself out, he's going to have very limited mobility anyway. Falls can be especially dangerous for patients with neurological conditions, which may be what we're looking at here. For tonight at the very least your friend is going to need to stay in observation."
"Do my parents know?" I had to wonder.
The doctor looked uncertain, but Haruhi answered, "Of course! I called them the moment you were brought in for your initial examination!"
"So ... now what?" I asked uncertainly.
"For now, we're going to have to wait," he said apologetically, shaking his head. "Still -- with any luck you'll be on your feet and right as rain in a day or two! In the meantime, try to get some rest, and we'll have some more test results to go over in the morning."
"It will have to be forgiven, then," Haruhi sighed, looking uncomfortable.
"Kyon-kun!" my sister exclaimed, startling me enough to turn my head.
I nearly flailed myself out of bed at the falling sensation, Haruhi leaping forward to hold me in place, eyes widening in alarm.
"H...hey," I managed a moment later, as my family burst in, little sister first.
"I-- I'll be back tomorrow," Haruhi declared, frowning. I could tell she wasn't happy about things, but she still wanted to give me some time alone with my parents. "I'll bring your assignments then, so rest and get well, alright?"
"Okay," I agreed, as my parents rushed to my bedside.
If it had only been so simple....
It wasn't the first time I had spent the night in the hospital, though last time I was perfectly fine, and able to walk around. At least, that much was true for everything I remembered.
This time, I was confined to my bed, though trying to turn my head while visiting with my parents and sister had helped me adjust to the dizziness a little bit. The doctor said that he couldn't promise it would improve until he understood what was going on better, but that I would probably acclimate as long as the condition didn't worsen.
That was not the most promising thing someone could hear.
After that I was left alone to rest.
I was woken far too early by a nurse. She wasn't anyone I had met before, and wasn't as endearing as Asahina-san in her nurse outfit, but she gave me a bright smile anyway. "You slept in quite a bit!" she remarked, raising the bed for me as Haruhi had the previous day, then setting a tray in front of me.
"I did?" I wondered, raising a hand to my face and rubbing at my eyes. The tray before me contained a bowl of porridge, which I wasn't thrilled about, two slices of toast, a cup of orange juice, and a cup of water.
I couldn't see a clock, so I decided to take her word for it, helping myself to the toast. "Now, we've got a lot of tests scheduled for you today, so eat up!"
"What tests?" I wondered. So much for getting out of school!
Bustling to the window and opening the blinds, she let the late morning sun burst in. How long had I slept? I still felt tired!
Both tired and restless, actually. I must have just overslept. "Some coordination and reflex tests, then we're going to take a measure of your hearing loss," she explained, not speaking until she's on my left side. That's thoughtful of her. "After that, the doctor said that based on blood tests, they want to run another MRI on you."
Oh, boy. I didn't remember the last one -- that could be a story Haruhi would like to hear! "Be sure to take pictures of any gestating aliens you find," I remarked around my toast, prompting the nurse to chuckle.
"That's the spirit!" she encouraged me. "I'll be back in ten minutes to check up on you, and then we'll get you started, alright?"
I didn't feel hungry, but I finished the meal in front of me anyway. The process of eating toast or spooning up porridge is pretty simple, but much to my irritation, my hands were not as steady as I felt they should be, and I dropped a piece of toast on the bedding. I made myself finish it, thinking of the dinner I'd missed the previous night.
Not long after I was done, the nurse returned, humming and pushing a wheelchair in ahead of her.
I ... was not particularly thrilled to see it.
On seeing my face, she shook her head gently and explained, "Just a precaution until we know more. Come on, now!"
Even if I had adjusted, when I tried to climb to my feet, I found I was far less steady than I had expected-- I halfway collapsed into the chair, at the end, but the nurse remained cheerful and upbeat. After that, she wheeled me down the hall and into an elevator. In short order, I was put into a booth and given headphones.
The test was fairly straightforward -- press a button when I heard a tone. There was nothing to look at to distract me from focusing on the sound -- just the white walls of the booth and a small shelf that the button rested on. I could tell that something was off from the very start, though. Surely they would have checked the equipment, right?
It was a hospital, where a degree of precision is expected that's not far off from high-tech science labs! So I doubted the headphone was broken, but I never heard anything in my right ear.
After twenty minutes, the nurse returned, taking the headphones off. Her lips were pursed together, but she managed a smile anyway. "Now for some coordination testing! This might be fun!" she said encouragingly.
It was hard to be optimistic when someone else had to wheel me through the halls. I tried to look dignified, but couldn't keep myself from gripping the arms of my chair thanks to my poor sense balance.
The next room I was wheeled to made me blink. It looked to my eyes like a sort of strange gymnasium, where all of the equipment had extra hand rails, support straps, or other aids to use them. Weaving between a treadmill with a pair of arm supports, and a machine I couldn't identify, the nurse and I stopped at a low table covered with a variety of what looked to me like brightly colored children's toys.
Blocks, boards with holes matching the shapes of the blocks, and more complex versions of the same things. Piles of small puzzles where the goal is to assemble some shape-- None of them looked mentally challenging.
"What's this for?" I had to wonder. Whatever else this room was for -- and it had enough equipment for a good dozen people to fit comfortably -- it was just us for the moment.
"Physical coordination," the nurse explained. "You're having trouble balancing, right?"
I had to agree, though I didn't nod.
"Well," the same doctor from the previous night said, surprising me as he stepped around to where I could see him, "we want to see how far that goes, and check your reflexes out. After this will be the really fun test -- the MRI!"
I did manage a very small nod for this, though it was still throwing me off a little to try it. From there, I spent probably a good hour and a half moving objects and attempting simple tasks, like stacking things. That wasn't very hard, but my coordination had dropped -- throwing a ball a short distance at a target was more difficult than I thought it should have been. I was never a star athlete, but my performance had become truly abysmal!
That fortunately ended, the nurse vanishing somewhere as the doctor himself wheeled me out and to an exam room. Embarrassingly enough, I needed help getting up onto the exam table, but after that, the doctor tapped my knees and elbows with a wedge-shaped rubber mallet, shined a light in my eyes again, and scribbled down copious notes.
"Any ideas?" I asked, once it was time to laboriously climb back down into the wheelchair.
It was clear enough I'd gone deaf in one ear. Beyond that, it had seemed that my reflexes and coordination were worse, too.
"There are a few possibilities," the doctor said thoughtfully, not meeting my gaze. "We should be getting the lab results back later today, but the preliminary screens seem positive."
"What's the MRI for?"
I had an inkling of what that meant -- it was a heavy duty piece of equipment, after all. But what did they expect to find?
"We're going to scan for likely culprits," the doctor explained, sighing, eyes dropping to the floor. "Possibly a clot, or evidence of an intracranial hematoma."
I wasn't a doctor myself, but I could guess. "Brain damage?" I asked in disbelief.
How would that happen, anyway?
"We'll find out," he said. "However, you're cognizant right now-- I would expect with most very serious conditions that you'd still be unconscious. So there's no reason to worry too much right now!"
That's the kind of thing that makes you worry even more!
After a break to eat another hospital meal, I was brought to the MRI. If you've never seen one before, then you haven't watched enough science fiction. This was exactly the machine that you would see in a horror movie about an alien that gestates inside another person, or a drama about someone with a terminal condition.
What a chilling thought that was!
The apparatus itself was massive, filling most of a room. There were a pair of technicians in addition to the doctor, and they loaded me up onto an automated plastic stretcher, wearing only a hospital gown. A band was placed around my head, which one of the technicians explained was actually an antenna, to help focus the machine.
After that, what seemed very scary and exciting ... actually turned out to be one of the more boring experiences of my life. The machine moved me forward and back, presumably taking cross-section snapshots of the magnetic resonance inside my body.
It took nearly an hour before they determined enough was enough and I was released to the chair, and then wheeled back to the bed I had started out in.
You would have thought that would be the end of it, wouldn't you?
The testing didn't stop, though. Once I was comfortable, another doctor -- this one a woman who looked slightly younger than the nurse from earlier -- greeted me and told me three words words.
Pentagon, boat, house.
Three simple words, right?
After that, a series of questions followed -- history, math, directions around town.... I couldn't follow what it was all even trying to figure out!
The sizable pad of paper on the doctor's clipboard slowly filled up with her notes. At the very end, when she licked her fingertips and turned the pages back to the front, she paused, seeming to think of something. "Kyon-kun," she asked me, sounding like my mother when she wanted a reminder, "could you repeat the three words I told you when we met earlier?"
Pentacle, boat, home.
Was that a test, too?
She nodded, jotting down another note, then gave me a smile and told me to rest before she left.
For all of that testing, I was wondering when the results would come. More importantly, I wanted to have a diagnosis of what was going on!
When that finally wrapped up, making me wish there was a clock in the room, I was ready to eagerly welcome the next nurse through the door!
This was the cutest nurse I've ever seen, after all -- an angel who attended the same school as me, blushing brightly and goaded along by a proud Haruhi. Waggling a fingertip at me as the rest of the club trooped in behind her, Haruhi declared, "If you wanted Mikuru-chan to wear her nurse outfit, you didn't have to go this far, Kyon!"
I couldn't help but grin like an idiot at the pleasantly embarrassed girl in the nurse costume. She'd become a lot more comfortable in costumes though, hadn't she? Or, could it be....
"Haruhi, did you make Asahina-san march all the way here in costume?" I asked.
"Oh, you'd love that!" Haruhi retorted, shaking her head sharply. "Of course not -- she changed here. Now, we've brought your assignments, so thanks to you being here we have to focus on that before we can get to the club meeting! I swear, Kyon, you will owe me such a penalty once you get out of here!"
As if there wasn't enough bad about being here in the first place!
Nodding to herself, Haruhi pulled a chair close to my bed as the others made themselves comfortable-- A private room in the hospital.... Would that put me in Koizumi's debt again, as well? "But before we begin," she added, setting books on the tray that my meals were served on, "have they determined what's going on, yet?"
"Nothing yet," I sighed. I turned slowly to look at her, which let me overcome the dizziness a bit. "They took an MRI, though."
"Ooh!" Haruhi exclaimed, eyes widening. I could see a hint of both excitement and worry. "What was it like?"
"Well...." I decided telling her it was surprisingly boring wouldn't satisfy her much, so focused on the other parts of the experience instead.
"That sounds scary!" Asahina-san commented, when I finished.
Nagato stared quietly, unblinking. Koizumi looked mildly troubled, but nodded his agreement.
"Well, they're not going to find anything to worry about," Haruhi said, though lacking her usual conviction.
I nodded, though it took some effort. She was probably right; after all, with Nagato there, what did I really have to worry about?
"Now, on to your studies, Kyon!"
That, I supposed!
The tedium of study was actually not unwelcome, once we were done. It was comforting in some ways, being able to do something so mundane in the situation I was in. I still couldn't be that worried about things. In a way, wasn't the entire thing just another adventure?
Not that I was complaining, but I'd had enough of those! I hoped it would wrap up soon enough!
After our homework was done, Asahina-san smiled warmly and handed me a thermos of tea she had made earlier, and Haruhi sternly ordered me to get better again. From there my parents arrived, so Haruhi had the Brigade retreat to give us more privacy.
There still wasn't any prognosis, but my mother had brought the book that Yuki had loaned me to read, so I'd have something 'better to do than watch television all day.'
Not long after my family left, I ended up falling asleep again.
In a repeat of the previous day, the same nurse woke me and greeted me with a remarkably similar breakfast. I suppose their food was meant to encourage me to recover and get out of the hospital faster!
From there, a lot of tiring repeats of, the previous day's tests, except for the one for hearing.
"Am I in a time loop?" I wondered.
"Getting a sense of familiarity?" the doctor taking notes on my coordination asked. "We just want to be very sure of our results."
I still wondered what it meant, but it became especially worrisome to realize that I was being wheeled to the room with the massive MRI system again. "Something ... wrong with the last readings?" I wondered, as I was loaded into the machine again.
"We need to be very sure," the doctor said seriously, as one of the technicians put the same band about my head again.
That was a worrisome thing to hear! "What did you find, then?"
He smiled and shook his head, though the smile was troubled, more than reassuring. "Hopefully nothing," he answered, "so we're going to fine tune the machine this time and try and take a closer look."
...I couldn't help but be very worried about it this time.
Thanks to that concern, the process was much more worrisome than boring. The scans seemed to be centered on my head and upper torso, this time around, and also ran over an hour.
"Alright," the doctor said, once I was back in the wheelchair. "I'm going to run some comparisons between this and yesterday's scan, and the one from a few months back. In the meantime, keep positive!"
How was I supposed to do that?
After being returned to my room -- this time more anxious than the last -- I was a bit surprised to see the same female doctor there again. But perhaps I shouldn't have been.
"Hello!" she said, giving me a warm smile. "How are you feeling today, Kyon?"
A bit annoyed that my nickname was still being used, even here. "I'm alright. Just a bit scared of all the tests."
"That's understandable," she said sympathetically, as I settled into the bed. The male doctor nodded and marched off.
"Do you remember those three words, by chance?" she asked.
What was the point of that question?
Pinnacle ... something I couldn't remember ... and home run?
She nodded at that, giving me another smile. "Okay! Today, I'm going to tell you, 'ball, water, jacket.'"
I'd be sure to remember those for the end of the test, then!
Most of the questions she asked next were the same ones as the previous day, but not so similar I got bored. Finally, she finished, asking the final question, where I was supposed to repeat those three words again.
Bell, water, jacket.
Does knowing the importance of remembering those words change the results? What was it even a test for?
"What-- What are these tests trying to figure out?" I asked, before she could leave.
She paused, then put her hands at her side, for the first time not consulting her clipboard while talking to me.
"We're trying to determine if you're suffering from some form of nerve damage," she explained gently. "And if it does exist, how severe it might be."
So ... that worrisome 'brain damage' idea again....
I wasn't sure what to say -- but when I started to really worry ... I remembered Nagato again. I would be okay, wouldn't I?
Cheered by that thought, I kept my spirits up after all.
If all of these doctors and technology weren't enough to make me better, undoubtedly there was a force that could set me back on my feet!
And like a blazing torch of confidence, Haruhi returned, the entire brigade in tow once more. Asahina-san was once again as cute as a button in her nurse outfit. "Feeling better?" Haruhi demanded cheerfully, instead of greeting me like a proper person.
"I am now," I agreed, smiling back at her.
Haruhi herself can look surprisingly pleasant when she's off balance, and that seemed to have done it!
"Yeah, you're milking this for all it's worth," she scoffed, grinning. "You're going to be doing so much makeup work for the Brigade this summer!"
"I'll look forward to that," I answered dryly, still unable to keep my speech from slurring slightly.
"Ah, you-- You'll get better though, Kyon-kun?" Asahina-san asked anxiously, pressing her hands together, face flushing crimson when a pair of the hospital's actual nurses peeked in to examine her costume, then walked away chuckling.
"Of course he will," Haruhi said resolutely. "The only reason it's taking so long is because they don't know what's wrong yet."
My confidence was buoyed by that, but if Haruhi was so sure that I'd get better, then even if it weren't for Nagato's protection, wasn't it certain I'd recover?
"Alright -- enough chatter," Haruhi declared. "You're missing important classes, so let's make sure you're still ready to return to school!"
"No rest for the wicked," I sighed, shaking my head faintly.
"Luckily, tomorrow is Saturday, so we can actually do some Brigade activities instead of just studying!" Haruhi added. "So look forward to that!"
Despite everything, I actually did look forward to it.
The next morning began like the others, with a familiar unappetizing breakfast. I ate it systematically as always, and prepared for another day of very tiring testing. What actually happened is that my family came to visit me -- little sister once again charging to the side of the bed and reaching up to give me a hug.
...I supposed, in that situation, that I could finally see why everyone else claimed she was so adorable.
More importantly to me, the doctor that had done most of the tests and the morning nurse came in with him. This time, the doctor was not smiling at all-- The nurse was trying, but it wasn't a real smile by any stretch.
"Hey, Imouto," she called, crouching low to be of height with my sister. "Would you like to come with me to get some juice? We can bring something back for your brother to drink!"
My mother looked concerned by this, but let my sister be led away, while my father frowned.
Once the nurse and my eternally cheerful sister were gone, the doctor coughed quietly and closed the door.
He apologetically suggested that my parents should be seated, and I felt a nervous and sick chill run from my stomach and up my spine. This wasn't good! Judging by their expressions, my parents didn't think so either.
"Kyon-kun," he said slowly, not meeting my eyes. "This is a ... very unique case. There's a chance that our prognosis is wrong, but I have consulted with my colleagues, and we believe we've determined your neural disorder."
"Disorder?" my mother asked sharply.
The doctor nodded unhappily, and went to the wall near the foot of my bed, where a chart could be hung easily. The image was a jumble of colors and nonsense patterns. My parents seemed to take the same meaning from it that I did.
After a moment, the doctor explained that it was an MRI from when I 'fell', that issue some months ago. More specifically, it was a cross-section of my own brain. "Note these faint shadows here," he said, indicating something that I couldn't identify in the least.
He then added another chart, this one noticeably darker in places.
"This is another scan -- from the day before yesterday," he added. "The increased shadow density is a region of dysmyelination."
"What?" I asked at the same time as my parents.
Adding the third chart, which was alarmingly darker, the doctor explained, "This chart shows more detail. To begin with, how familiar are you with the structure of a nerve?"
Well, I could name all of the parts well enough from classes, but I would rather let the doctor explain it again to ensure I got it right!
The doctor gave a wan smile and shrugged, explaining, "Nerve cells are sheathed in a protective insulating jacket named myelin. This jacket insulates electrical impulses within the nerve, keeping them from leaking out."
"What ... does that have to do with anything?" my father wondered, frowning.
My mother seemed to grasp something, and looked alarmed. "Dysmyelination?" she asked, gripping the hand-rests of her seat to remain steady. "So, what's happening?"
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, the doctor continued, "Kyon-kun has an abnormally high white blood cell count, and at the moment, we believe...." He trailed off then turned to face me. If I weren't sitting up in a bed, I'd have fallen over! "You appear to be suffering from an auto-immune disorder. Your immune system is destroying your myelin, causing neural damage."
"From what?" I had to ask. "How did this start?"
"Is it because of his fall last Winter?" my father asked.
Sighing, the doctor shook his head unhappily. "I'm sorry to say, but the issue is genetic. While Kyon-kun's immune system started recently becoming much more aggressive, from what we can tell this is a pre-existing condition, likely going back all the way to the onset of puberty," he said levelly.
"O-okay," my mother said unhappily. "How can we treat it?"
The doctor's expression told us before he answered. "We can provide an injection that should hopefully slow the process down," he explained uneasily. "The degeneration is extremely aggressive. The ... positives are that right now, the main areas affected are those that govern the extremities. Kyon-kun's memory doesn't appear to be affected yet, nor his cognitive abilities."
"How -- how long until he's better?" my father asked.
The doctor sighed again, dropping his gaze to his feet. "I'm ... not sure how else to say this. We don't have a treatment, and the prognosis is ... grim. We don't have an operation or medication to treat this -- the source is the immune system itself. There is no particular treatment specified for this situation, as the disorder is very poorly understood at this point."
My parents were justifiably stunned to hear this. I wanted to shake and scream, myself! I've been stabbed, and while it hurt -- it hurt an awful lot! -- it was less scary than this!
"If-- So ... how long, then?" I asked, surprising myself with how easily I managed to spit the question out.
The doctor's gaze turned toward the window. "I'm ... hesitant to guess, but I know how important an answer is to you. And that's going to be ... a week," he answered. "At that point, the dysmyelination will reach the adrenal medulla, the vagus nerve...." He trailed off and gave a short shake of his head. "Your heart will continue to beat, but the portion of your brain responsible for controlling your breathing will shut down, and from there it will spread.
"Loss of sensation, cognitive ability, and memory will degrade. Essentially, your immune system will proceed to shut your entire brain down, piece-by-piece, even though you will continue to be otherwise physically healthy."
My mother started to cry. My father's knuckles turned white as he gripped the armrests of his chair.
"I'm.... I'm dying?" I realized in shock.
The doctor nodded solemnly at this. "Now-- Now, I did mention an IV drip. What I would like to do is provide an immunoglobulin injection. This should contain antibodies that will slow the immune system's attack on the brain down. If we're very lucky, it will completely arrest the condition."
"Kyon-kun can be saved?" my mother asked sharply, her voice shrill and unsteady.
He winced, as my father glared in expectation.
"It might," the doctor stressed cautiously. "With luck. If not, it should at least slow things down."
"Then do it!" my mother snapped. "Immediately!"
The doctor nodded, moving to the door, but returning almost without hesitation. The large bag of fluid and the stand in his hand reminded me of things I'd seen in any number of medical dramas, and even video games. Another unfamiliar nurse was with him, and between them they stuck a needle into my arm, securing it with medical tape.
It took them less than five minutes to have everything set up and connected to me, letting ... whatever it was in the bag slowly drain into me. I shivered, but otherwise held still for the process.
You would have, too, if you were told it could save your life!
After that was done, while my parents were still seated, the nurse silently excused herself. "I ... apologize for this," the doctor said, "but I have to warn you that we cannot guarantee any improvement. Kyon-kun's condition may still worsen despite the treatment."
My mother sniffled, shaking her head furiously.
Coughing, the doctor bowed his head again. "I'll ... give you some time alone," he concluded, pulling down his charts and tucking them back into the folder they had come from. My parents were silent until he left the room, before my mother burst into tears again.
That was a hell of a thing to take in! I'd heard some things in my life that were hard to accept-- The existence of aliens, time travelers, and espers, the fact that a certain Brigade chief had the power to warp reality. Data entities, closed spaces, alternate realities.
This, though....
I had no idea what to say. I felt numb and more than a bit shocked about the whole thing.
Before, I had thought that with Nagato's help....
That thought helped me keep from panicking. Of course-- This had to be someone messing with the Brigade. I didn't have the special defenses that everyone else did. Some faction or force out there had targeted me, the weak link.
I was, after all, just a normal person! Why wouldn't they try to attack me in such a way to get to my friends? Some strange condition that I'd never even heard of, coming out of nowhere to kill me within a week or two?
Able to calm myself with that thought, I offered a smile to my parents. "It's too early to give up hope," I said, shaking my head slowly. "This started abruptly, and it's strange, but it could go away as suddenly as it came up!"
And with the help of the others, it would, right?
No enemy of the Brigade was going to take me down so easily!
...there was a nagging thought that I was overlooking something, but I dismissed it.
My mother sniffed at that, struggling to put on a brave face as my father scowled to hide his worry. "That's right," he said gruffly. "We have to keep a positive attitude, don't we?"
"R...right," my mother answered shakily.
"Now, we have to put on brave faces for Imouto, don't we?" I added.
"Y...yes, of course," my mother agreed, sniffling again as she rubbed at her eyes. "You're right, Kyon-kun. I-- I'm so proud of you for being so brave about this!"
Well ... my reasons for being able to handle it weren't something I could explain. With the friends and allies I had, though, such a condition would be trivial to resolve. Nagato could do anything, after all!
Haruhi had promised that she would return later, and if there was one thing I could count on, it was that she would keep her word! With the rest of the Brigade at her side, how hard would it be to get a word alone with Nagato to find out more?
"Um, my friends from school planned on visiting today," I said thoughtfully.
"School?" my father barked, before managing a pained smile. "Of course, of course," he agreed, rubbing at his eyes. "So, 'business as usual', is it?"
I slowly nodded, still unbalanced by that inner ear problem.
"Alright," he said, shaking his head. "In that case, you won't mind your sister visiting with your friends, will you?"
My mother nodded, her eyes glistening. No man who can consider himself worthy of the label could ignore a request from parents in such a state. "Of course not," I agreed.
My parents had intended to stay with me until Haruhi and the others arrived. What we hadn't realized was that Haruhi was already there, fuming at being turned away until my parents gave their approval. This meant after having enough time to calm their nerves -- my mother drying her tears, and my father cleaning dust from his eyes -- they finally opened the door.
Very shortly after that, Haruhi stormed through. Her irritation was as visible on her face as warpaint, but vanished the moment she realized my parents were still with me. She froze in the doorway, uncertain how to proceed, but before anyone else could say anything, my younger sister latched onto her with an excitable cheer of, "Haru-nee!"
"Ah," Haruhi managed, the rest of the Brigade crowded behind her. "Um! Imouto, it's good to see you again! How ... is everyone?"
Her eyes went to the stand at my side, and the drop connected to my arm still.
"We'll leave you be for a bit," my mother said hurriedly. "Imouto-chan is visiting Kyon, but we'll be back later."
"You can trust us with her!" Haruhi said with conviction, moving to one side to make room for my parents, and pulling my sister with her. "And naturally, we'll take care of Kyon as well!"
"Good!" my mother agreed, her eyes already shining. She bit her lip as my father took her elbow, giving a gruff nod before they left, letting the rest of the Brigade in.
Once they were gone, Haruhi sighed explosively, eying the stand again before her gaze tracked to my sister.
"I brought milk for Kyon-kun!" my sister said happily, letting go of Haruhi to zip to my side and offer it up. She blinked at the stand and the drip, her eyes widening. "Is that medicine to make you better?"
"Yeah," I answered, giving another of the slow nods I was starting to become accustomed to.
"So they know what's going on?" Haruhi asked anxiously, frowning and giving Koizumi a stern glare as his phone chirped.
"S-sorry," the esper chuckled, ducking his head. "I'll check this in the hall."
Haruhi rounded on him, hands on her hips. "What's more important than the health of a Brigade member, Koizumi?" she asked crossly.
"I.... It's--" he started, his normally immobile smile shifting.
"No excuses," Haruhi declared. Was it ... that she was worried? And just looking for someone to lash out at?
Well, that could be the case, but I couldn't let her pick on him. I also had a fair guess what the message for him was about, anyway. Wasn't the hospital run by the Organization? Undoubtedly, they were telling him my prognosis.
"Let it go, Haruhi," I said with a sigh. "It's probably from his part-time job. It's no good getting him in trouble with his bosses, is it?"
Haruhi wheeled to face me, pursing her lips and crossing her arms over her chest. "Very well," she relented. "If Kyon isn't bothered, I'll allow it."
Though ... it was something else seeing Haruhi stand up for me like that!
Koizumi ducked his head in gratitude and slipped through the door. In the meantime, I surveyed the others. Nagato.... Well, Nagato had the same expression as always, though her gaze was fixed on the drip connected to my arm, as well.
Even Asahina-san was staring at it, though. Everyone was wearing casual clothing today. I missed the nurse costume, but my favorite time traveler still looked cute, even in a simple sundress. What wasn't to like?
"Well, you haven't explained what's going on," Haruhi said, raising her eyebrows. "So, what is it? You're getting better, aren't you?"
"They're treating it," I answered. "It's ... hard to explain, but it's a problem with my immune system."
Haruhi's eyebrows rose, and she looked like she wanted to ask more before she shook her head, looking at my sister. "Well," she said, "for now, I suppose we can visit casually, can't we?"
"Can we play a game?" my sister asked excitedly.
"Of course!" Haruhi declared.
In light of things, it was hard to sit so still and calmly. But my sister had no inkling of what was really going on, and neither did Haruhi. Asahina-san was just as clueless for the moment, but looked anxious enough already. There was no reason to worry either of them.
It was nearly an hour before Koizumi returned -- dozens of hands of old maid into the day. One of the nurses had come with him, bearing a covered tray with my lunch on it. The esper's expression was more worn and tired than I'd seen it before, his smile more obviously strained.
"That was a long call!" Haruhi complained with a scowl, eying him dubiously.
"Apologies, Suzumiya-san," he offered smoothly, bowing his head. "However, since it's time for lunch, I've preemptively determined a suitable apology-- I can pay for everyone at the cafeteria -- Kyon's sister, as well."
Haruhi's eyes narrowed at that. "We're here to visit Kyon!" she complained.
"You can take your meals on trays," the nurse interrupted, smiling gently. "We'll make an exception and let you eat with your friend, as long as you clean up when you're done."
That was nice of them. Was the nurse part of the Organization as well?
That mollified Haruhi, though. "Alright," she allowed. "In that case, you all go on -- Mikuru-chan, pick something good for me to eat!" Turning to face me, Haruhi waggled a fingertip and added, "And you must keep your health up, too! You're recovering, so no waiting on the others. I'll be making sure you finish your meal, now!"
The nurse chuckled gently at that, remarking, "Well, thank you for taking care of that part of my job!"
Haruhi nodded sternly and gestured the others out. My sister was the last to leave, giving a last giggle and waving childishly before taking Asahina-san's hand. The nurse had withdrawn with them, leaving Haruhi and I alone....
She crossed her arms and stared at the drip still connected to my arm. It was almost empty, now; I was surprised to realize that most of the fluid had drained into me. The needle was painful at first, but very quickly I'd come to ignore it. Her gaze lingered for a long moment on the mostly empty bag before going to the window.
Without so much as asking, she moved to the side of my bed and hoisted herself up to sit next to me, though facing away, her legs dangling over the side. The tray sat between us, but I didn't move to uncover the tray and see what I would be eating.
She seemed to stare intently at the floor, and I wondered what she was thinking. What moments like this meant....
Koizumi had told me that Haruhi had an expression that he'd never seen before when I had 'fallen' some months back. It wasn't hard to imagine a similar expression might have crossed her face when I collapsed in the street before being taken the hospital.
And while I have at times been oblivious, it's hard to pretend to be ignorant in situations like these.
I had to say something, though!
"Haruhi," I started, which prompted her to freeze, her dangling legs suddenly motionless as she stiffened, not turning to look at her. "Thank you for looking out for me. I've always thought you were at your best when looking after others."
"It's.... I have to ... look after those who have looked after me," she answered, her shoulders sagging as though she'd let a weight slip from them. "B-but-- Eat!" She turned to look at me -- her eyes were shining, almost ... glistening, as she demanded, "You need to eat to keep your health up!"
Well, that was true, wasn't it?
"Of course," I laughed.
"If you don't eat, I'll feed it to you myself!" she warned, snatching the lid off the tray, revealing a large bowl of nabe. The image of Haruhi shoveling food into my mouth.... We might have been having a pleasant moment, but I could feed myself!
I had only started on my soup before the others returned, bearing trays. Koizumi was carrying my sister's tray, but she was quite proud to remember my fondness for milk, and brought me another small carton of it. Haruhi hopped to her feet the moment the door creaked open, nodding in approval of the udon that Asahina-san had picked for her.
Nagato and Koizumi both got extremely light lunches. Afterwards, we played a few different card games, but by mid-afternoon, I was already feeling drowsy. The nurse returned to remove my IV and put a bandage on my arm, then determined, "Kyon-kun needs to sleep now -- you can all come back to visit tomorrow!"
Haruhi clearly wasn't pleased with the instructions, but instead of fussing, she sighed, grousing, "There's nothing to be done about it -- so be sure to get plenty of rest, Kyon! We'll see you tomorrow, don't you doubt it for a moment!"
There was still one concern, but--
"And don't worry about that Imouto -- we'll take her back to your place," Haruhi added with a shake of her head. "Just get better!"
I nodded and let my eyes drift shut....
For better or for worse, I didn't recall any dreams when I woke up. It was the same hospital room, but dark-- I blinked a few times and tried to sit up. I wasn't quite able to pull it off, but a small hand grasped mine and pulled me upright. Not long after that, the bed's mechanism slowly whined as it climbed to provide support.
I settled back into the bedding in the dark as my hand was released, and the room's light flicked on. It took a few heartbeats for my eyes to adjust to the new lighting. As I had anticipated, though it took me some further groggy moments to fully wake, there was Nagato Yuki -- the girl who had on occasions trailed behind me like a personal ghost.
"It's good to see you, Nagato," I said, smiling at the impassive girl. Of course, it had been nice to see her with the others, too. But this restored a lot of confidence, considering how much I'd been shaken up.
She inclined her head a tiny distance.
"So ... this whole thing," I started with a shrug. "Who's responsible?"
"No one," she answered after a moment.
"Eh? You can't point at those other alien jerks and know it was them?" I was a bit surprised.
She shook her head minutely.
"It couldn't be time travelers or espers, could it?" I wondered.
"No."
"And it's not your bosses?" Could those jerks have done that? I somehow wouldn't be surprised!
"They are not responsible," she answered quietly.
I shifted my shoulders. I wasn't upset with Nagato, but I was in an alarming situation enough!
"Nagato, how did this one get by you?" I asked.
An expression I'd never seen before crossed Nagato's face. She looked ... troubled. Her head bowed, as her gaze went to the bed beneath me -- or maybe lower, through to the floor. "The condition was pre-existing," she answered softly.
I could only blink.
"From before the moment of my creation, this condition has existed within you," she continued. "Until very recently, it was never observed. It was not possible to intercept the condition, due the lack of an external origination."
"Y...you," I started. "You're telling me that this is a naturally occurring condition, and no one is behind it?"
She gave a terse nod in reply.