The Destruction of Haruhi Suzumiya

Part I: Degradation

Haruhi was a virtually indestructible girl. No one person could ever conquer her, could ever make her submit physically and/or mentally, could ever make her cry. Kyon had thought this to be true. Never in his dreams did he think a simple—or not so simple—act of dominance and abjection could render Haruhi to a state of seemingly perpetual break downs. Never did he think she could lose herself.

Haruhi Suzumiya. Year 11 in high school. Chestnut brown hair. Golden-brown eyes (god they're gorgeous). Small body frame. Active imagination. Eccentric. Ripe for the taking.

Renjiro had studied Haruhi for about a year now. He knew her basic schedule (even if it changes frantically from all the odd places she decided to visit) and her basic relationships. He knew everything there was to know about her. He sat three rows back, two seats over from her. He'd said hello to her before, but she'd never given him the time of day. She was too self-involved with doing un-bored things. He wasn't really sure why he fantasized about her. It wasn't her appearance, really—not to get him wrong, because she was agreeably gorgeous and had a nice body. It was more of the way she carried herself: so high and mighty, so spunky and cute, so independent and in control of herself. He wanted that control. He wanted a fight for that control. He wanted a struggle at first, and then the satisfaction of dominating her next.

This is why he was going to stop fantasizing about taking her and start planning to.

"Alright everyone, we're going to do a recruiting session today! Mikuru, I already have the perfect costume for you."

The orange-haired girl whimpered but failed to say no.

Haruhi whipped out—from nowhere, Kyon noted—a costume...no, a few pieces of cloth? It looked like a cross between a bikini and a band-aid with how skimpy it was. Kyon thought to himself, reluctantly, that he was looking forward to seeing her in it.

After much commotion and erotic—to Kyon—moans of detest from Mikuru, the SOS Brigade set out to start handing out poorly-constructed fliers to random people on the streets. By the time the sky started darkening, Itsuki made mention of the time and said it'd be best to start wrapping things up. After Yuki, Itsuki, and Mikuru had left, Haruhi groaned in annoyance at Kyon.

"Not a single person said they wanted to join! I think we should start putting chloroform on the fliers so we can just drag them back."

Kyon knew that she was completely serious and believe this to be a totally-not-illegal-or-immoral idea at all.

A man with dark brown hair and a shy smile passed by Haruhi, and the wild teenager grabbed him by the collar, swinging him her way. She thrust the flier at him and started yelling happily about the SOS Brigade.

What a drag, Kyon thought to himself. He told Haruhi passively that he was going home and she dismissed him without looking in his direction, too engrossed in the conversation she was having with the young man—it was more a conversation with herself, since she did all the talking. Kyon ascended a small slope with his back over the back of his shoulder, sighing in exhaust from the day's events.

"Uhm, you still haven't told me what you guys actually do...," the man said timidly.

"Were you not listening to anything I said? We—uhn...wha...t?"

After a swift chop to the back of the neck, Haruhi's eyes rolled back and her body fell forward limply into his arms. He scooped her up and carried her bridal style until he was sure he was in the most deserted and desolate part of the city he could find. He said nothing, his eyes not even looking down at her as he walked. Once he reached a satisfactory setting, he laid her down on the dusty road.

Her eyes peeled open, a soft groan coming from her throat as she sat up. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she stood up to face the nonchalant man before her.

"Just what are you!" Of course, Haruhi's first question would be one questioning his race instead of why she was here.

"I guess you could call me a fan. Listen, I don't want to talk right now. It took you forever to wake up, and I've been impatient. So let's skip the questioning foreplay." He could see Haruhi trying to process this, but before she could, he made a quick lurch forward, pushing her to the ground. He fell on top of her and straddled her waist, trying frantically to grab her squirming arms.

"Let go you creep!" Haruhi yelled in a low tone that was full of strength and confidence, something that only fueled Renjiro's want.

He ripped her school uniform from her body, managing to hold both of her wrists above her head in one hand. She was surprisingly strong for someone her size and frame, but he was stronger. He knew that she wasn't the typical damsel-in-distress that walked down dark alley ways. He knew he'd need to be prepared, and it's exactly why he took martial arts class specializing in submissions prior to his attack. She was utterly defenseless, positioned under him like that. But she gave him the struggle he wanted, and he was truly fighting for control—it wasn't just being handed to him. He felt powerful and having Haruhi at his mercy sent thrills down his spine.

Smashing his lips to her own to both taste and silence her, he maneuvered himself so that he was able to undo his own zipper and slide her under clothes down. Her eyes widened at the severity of the situation, and he finally saw a spark of fear in her eyes. But she kept struggling and was defiant. Her attitude and distaste was nearly tangible. Renjiro could feel the wrath radiating off her body and soaking into his own, converting to raw lust.

She felt him inside her, and it hurt. She could handle pain well, but this was a different kind of pain. It was a humiliating pain that she'd never felt—worse than getting stabbed in the stomach repeatedly. He seemed to get off on choking her, but he would only bring her to the brink of passing out before he let go. It wouldn't be fun if she was limp under him. He moved his hands over her body, touching and groping her while she punched him harshly. He took every hit until he grew tired of it and restrained her again. He'd thrown in several hits of his own to her cheek and rib cage, and she thought she'd heard a crack but wasn't completely sure.

He didn't come inside, knowing the what repercussions it could bring. When he pulled out, he spilled onto her legs, and the warm drops over her knees and thighs were sickening. She felt blood trickle from her opening, and tried to relax her muscles as best as she could so as to reduce the pain. He got up and zipped his pants before spitting on her stomach.

"You're nothing but a stupid whore, Haruhi. But I like you. I think I might even come back for seconds some time." He paused before leaving. "Oh, and if you tell anyone, I promise that I'll see to it the SOS Brigade is shut down. How will I do this, you ask? Well, you need 5 members to be a club. If I kill one, there'd only be four. Hmm, maybe Mikuru—nahh, she's not my type. Eh, I can cross that bridge if and when it comes. Seeya around, Haruhi."

She lie there, broken.

"It'd be just my luck that the one day I forget my umbrella, it starts raining on the way to school."

Kyon yawned as he climbed the mountain of a hill. He entered the school building and made his way to his first class, ignoring the incessant hooting of Taniguchi from a distance. Kyon was tired and for some reason didn't sleep well last night. He'd felt an odd sensation of worry—like there was something he'd forgot. He ran over a basic checklist in his mind a thousand times while he lay awake in bed at two in the morning. After deciding his mind was toying with him, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

He slid open the door to the classroom and walked in. Taking seat in front of Haruhi, he muttered a brief greeting without looking at her. He hoped that she'd be in one of her moods today so he could relax and maybe doze off in class a bit.

"Haruhi? Whoa Haruhi! How'd ya get those bruises?" a girl asked from behind him.

Kyon turned around, perplexed by the question. Haruhi didn't pay attention to the girl and stared at the window still, but Kyon took a close look at her. His eyes lit up with mixed emotions—concern and curiosity, mostly. What had she done now? Haruhi did a lot of crazy things, but she'd never managed to come out with battle scars. She had a bruise on her left cheek, her left eye was slightly puffy and had a purple tint to it, and she her bottom lip was swelled noticeably.

"Hey, what happened?" He waited. "Hey, Haruhi. Don't ignore me!" he snapped.

The brown-haired girl turned her eyes to him, and a breath hitched in his throat. The look in her eyes was so dead and glazed over with sadness that he had to control himself from grabbing her shoulders and shaking the words out of her. He'd never seen such a look in her eyes. He didn't even think girls like her—the wild and crazy ones—could possess such an expression. But she wouldn't answer him, and when the bell rung he turned around with great hesitation. He decided that he'd talk to her during recess.

"I knew you'd be here."

Kyon walked over to the tree and sat under the shade next to Haruhi. She still said nothing. He sighed and rested his back against the trunk, staring up at the sky through the ruffling leaves.

"What happened? Did you have an accident? Did you get hit by a biker? Knocked over? Get caught in a street brawl?" His last comment was a joke, sounding desperate for an answer.

His eyebrows formed into a rut of irritation and finally he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her slightly, causing a muffled wince to come out. He could tell she tried to restrain it but was unable to. His eyes softened and he wondered where else she had bruises.

"Haruhi, seriously. This is driving me insane. Just tell me what happened."

"Don't worry about it," she snapped. But her snap wasn't as sharp as usual. It was a bit duller and more forced. It lacked the naturalness it usually came with.

"How am I not going to worry when you come to class all banged up like that?"

"It's nothing!" she grumbled in a more harsh tone.

Nothing, huh? He grabbed her by the arm and stood up, pulling her to her feet. When he saw the flash of pure pain, he'd expected it. But what he didn't expect was the strike of terror that lit up in her eyes when he grabbed her. He let go and leaned in closer to look at her face. "Lift up your shirt, Haruhi." Normally, he would never have asked. And if by some chance he did, a light blush would accompany it. But he was serious and confused, his mind having formed the answer before he consciously could know what it was.

He felt her start to shake when she heard him command her to lift her shirt, and he was slowly connecting the implications to form a conclusion. Something had happened. Something bad. Something big enough to make Haruhi...terrified.

"What...happened? Tell me, Haruhi. You know I can help. Or maybe you could tell Mikuru." He mentally shrugged. Girls could talk to girls easier, right? He wasn't sure how that whole gender barrier thing worked. And talking to Yuki about something personal would be like talking to a brick wall. No, a brick wall would be more sociable, he thought.

"I won't be at the SOS Brigade today. So please let Itsuki know." Itsuki was second-in-command, as Haruhi had dubbed him, even though it was only because he did everything told without question.

Kyon's eyebrows furrowed, and he was both confused and frustrated at the fact he couldn't get the answer out of her. Had it not seemed serious, he would have long ago stopped prying.

"Kyon..."

"Yeah? What is it?" He sounded slightly hopeful.

"I don't think we should talk anymore. In fact, I think you should leave the SOS Brigade entirely."

A/N: I had muse for this after watching the series. A lot of my stories seem to have the girl always getting hurt. It's a fetish okay D: This is a three-shot. There will be two more chapters. I'm a slow updater...really slow, unless I have muse. What does this mean? It means you should give me constructive feedback and/or ideas! :D