A/N: God, to think I'm writing a Haruhi one-shot. Just throwing this out here right now: I apologize if I put anybody off, my only excuse is I have not, and do not plan to watch the anime or read the novels. There's just something about the plot I have an aversion to. Then again, due to the nature of this, perhaps it's better this way. Anyways, read, enjoy, preferably review... you all know the drill.
It was hard getting up in the morning sometimes. Because, well... it just was. To go to school meant to do the song and dance and wear a forced smile. To stay at home meant for the Brigade to panic over her and fear for the worst, bringing them here.
Ah, the Brigade. The quirky, utterly un-ordinary Brigade. Haruhi wasn't blind to the obvious; she might lie about many things but she knew the conventions of an anime when she saw them, even if they were covered up as they were. And what scared her sometimes was just knowing what they were capable of. That's what really scared her, and what was bitterly ironic about the whole situation was that it was their fear of her that scared her.
She was ordinary. She had always been ordinary. A power like the ability to alter the fabric of reality on a whim was not something to be trusted in the hands of one person. No, the Brigade merely thought that because they didn't want to face the alternative: they were responsible. Haruhi knew if got angry, the world would not end by her own desire. No, it would end because the others would think, deep in their hearts, that it would end. It was a vicious cycle, wherein their minds would subconsciously validate their every fear. And there she was, aware of it all and utterly, utterly powerless and forced into a role she had no desire for. Being practically feared as a god when it was her followers that held all the power. Power they had only because they thought she had it.
Explaining it to them was out of the question. Haruhi knew as soon as she told the Brigade she knew the truth, they would panic. At least one of them would. And it would all go straight to hell from there.
Such a horrible cycle. She, keeping an eye on the Brigade, to keep them distracted from unmaking the world based on subconscious imaginings of what would happen if she grew bored or angry or depressed. Some days were fun in spite of the tightrope act. Others were trying when she didn't feel up to it. Others were terrifying when she realized how high she was up on that tightrope.
It was time to go to class. Another day in the truly melancholy life of Haruhi Suzumiya.