One day, a young girl named Suzumiya Haruhi did not go to a baseball game. It was called on account of a thunderstorm. She did not see the seemingly endless tide of humanity. She did not later hear that this was a mere fraction of the world's population. She did not become melancholy. She did not feel small before the impersonal universe that would continue to scream through the void long after she died.

She was content. She sat at home and watched the rain. She went to school that week. She continued to believe she was unique among all the people living. A kid went missing from school and only she noticed. She never questioned that her life was the most interesting one ever lived. Did no one notice a whole row of empty seats? She would meet aliens, ESPers, time travelers and sliders. Where have all the teachers gone? She knew that she was unique, the only one.

So one day she woke up, and she was. The house was so quiet. The streets were quiet. School was quiet. She walked to the end of the road out of town, or thought she did. Somehow, she found herself entering from the other side.

She was alienated from the aliens. She was the only one.

She never espied the espers. She was the only one.

The travelers didn't make it in time. She was the only one.

The sliders slid from her grasp. She was the only one.

One day, a young girl named Suzumiya Haruhi did not go to a baseball game. It was called on account of a thunderstorm. That unique little girl never had cause to doubt herself. So, she was content with idleness.