DISCLAIMER: I own nothing related to Haruhi Suzumiya.

The quiet swish of brush on paper and the inaudible splash of the brush collecting more ink paused as Nagato looked away from her letter to the snow gently falling past her window, unhurried as the interface's brushstrokes. Snow in summer–supposedly impossible, yet not Suzumiya Haruhi's doing. The sight stirred something in its silent observer who nevertheless pulled herself away from the entrancing scene and returned to the writing in front of her. Three letters were finished, only the most important remained to be written.

The lilac-haired girl paused, unsure how to continue. How could one who had never experienced emotions for three years explain what they were now feeling? One by one she had experienced every conceivable emotion until the one Ryōko had described as "the most fickle of them all yet the most poetic, the inspiration for innumerable valiant efforts and captivating tales".

Love.

Nagato sat, brush poised to write, mind turning the words in her heart over and over as it searched for a simple way to phrase something so complex. Even the inhumanly powerful mind the interface possessed was no match for such a task and instead the golden-eyed writer simply wrote what her heart told her to, abandoning her usual bluntness.

As soon as her letter was finished she sealed the letters in envelopes and tied them into a bundle with a white ribbon. A single flower was tucked under the ribbon with painstaking care. It was only then that Nagato rose and left her apartment, leaving only her writing implements to show that anyone had ever lived there.


"Kyon-kun, Nagato-chan brought a bunch of letters for you. She put a flower on them." A young girl shouted, giggling, before her brother accosted her and took the letters.

Back in his room, Kyon untied the ribbon and carefully laid the single white lily tucked into it to one side. Curious as to why the humanoid interface would deliver four letters and a flower in such unseasonable weather, he opened the first letter. The youth's face turned pale as he neared the end of the letter. The names on the other three letters confirmed this wasn't simply an elaborate joke–not that he suspected Nagato of even being capable of such a thing–and the symbolism of the lily lent significant weight to the theory that everything written was completely true.

White for death and a lily for purity: purity of the snow, purity of her feelings, purity of the meaning of the words written before him.

Without even pausing to tell anyone what he was doing, not even the fellow members of his brigade, Kyon ran from his house, ignoring how cold the snow felt on bare feet. There was no time to put anything on; he had to follow the trail Nagato had left through the undisturbed blanket before fresh snow hid it.

There may be an error in the transmission of data but please listen. Ever since I met you I have started to feel more human, experiencing every feeling exactly as Asakura Ryōko described it. Maybe all these feelings are nothing more than constructs of the mind born from those conversations but they nevertheless feel real.

For now the trail was clear but the unseasonable snow was falling thicker and faster than ever, almost as if the weather didn't want the interface to be followed. It was, Kyon mused, more than likely.

"The most fickle of them all yet the most poetic, the inspiration for innumerable valiant efforts and captivating tales" was how she described this feeling of intense attraction and acute longing for someone–love. Ever since you broke the endless cycle of summer it has been growing and it was this feeling that led me to change the world.

Kyon paused as two trails crossed in an extravagant loop that hid which way Nagato had gone. Acting on intuition alone, he followed the older, less-clear trail. Even though her actions with the loop had made it abundantly clear she didn't want to be followed, Kyon was determined to catch up with Nagato.

I cannot act upon this emotion and your feelings for Suzumiya Haruhi are as apparent as her feelings for you. The only recourse I have is to remove myself from a position where I am tempted to act.

The trail he followed was as fresh as ever, giving the impression that Kyon was at least maintaining his distance from Nagato. That wouldn't be enough if he was to achieve his objective, he had to catch up. Already running as fast as he could, Kyon prayed that the impression he was maintaining his distance was just that and not the truth.

In preparation for this I have written four letters: the one you are reading now, one expressing my gratitude for the efforts of Asahina Mikuru, one expressing my gratitude for the efforts of Koizumi Itsuki, and one containing advice for Suzumiya Haruhi. Please deliver them as soon as possible in my place.

Kyon finally recognised the path he was following would lead him to the river. Whilst it did mean the he knew where he was heading it made his arrival all the more urgent.

My gift to you and Suzumiya Haruhi is the snow you see falling all around you despite the season, something to satisfy her desire for the unusual and your own repressed longing for the world to be as exotic and interesting as possible.

Kyon could see a slim figure stood at the water's edge, looking down into the semi-frozen river below. He felt that he could make it. Then the figure fell forwards into the cold's waiting embrace.

This cold shall also work as the vehicle to bring about my death.

Goodbye, Kyon.

Disregarding his own safety, the youth jumped after Nagato. His rational mind was screaming that going after her like this would just increase the body count. His feelings were shouting equally vehemently that unless he did something now he would never be able to live with himself. Nagato had made one mistake: assuming that Kyon was in love with Haruhi when all he held for her was physical attraction, her personality making it impossible for him to completely love her.

The youth grabbed Nagato from the bottom of the shallow river and dragged her above the surface, looking around to find some steps before he succumbed to the cold and collapsed into the water. Seeing some, Kyon dragged the limp girl after him as he pulled their bodies out of the water.

It was whilst Kyon was carrying Nagato to his house so that they were somewhere warm that the interface's eyes fluttered open and a plaintive 'why?' escaped from her lips.

"Because you got one thing wrong, Nagato. It's not Haruhi I love–it's you." The human replied, smiling when the girl snuggled into his chest.

For now, they were together.

AN: Sorry for not updating anything for a while.

Reviews greatly desired. Maybe, if people want it, I'll think of a fitting way to continue this.