Notes: My first little bit. An insane what-if that popped into my head for no reason at all. Hope this will suffice. The title's pretty straightforward, and absolutely no thought was put into the plot. What I mean to say by this is that I simply let my brain juices flow. Oh, and I've never been to Canada.
Disclaimer: Tanigawa Nagaru is the creator and owner of Suzumiya Haruhi and all known characters. I possess no right to even try and steal them. At all.
It was a complete absurdity. But what else could you expect? This is Haruhi we're talking about. Be it the unsightly cost of five tickets, arranging an excuse letter to the student council, getting our visas in order, or any other of the complication that might get in the way, you can bet your last yen that she would be able to force her way through it like a Formula One Driver intent on beating the land speed record. I was of course, given the great honor of settling all the financially-connected problems. I must wonder, though, in all this, what could have possibly driven her to make her most daring move yet? Amateur videos, making 25-and-16-years-in-advance wishes to Orihime and Hikoboshi on Tanabata, substituting two members of ENOZ ad hoc, none of these compared to the complete irrationality that was this latest act.
"Welcome to Vancouver," the receptionist cheerily greeted our little group as we approached. Interesting how she conveniently knew how to speak Japanese. The next statement was inevitable. "Can you speak in English?"
Think about it for a moment. A very well-known website called Wikipedia tells us that more than half of the 2.4 million inhabitants of Vancouver spoke non-English, and yet this is what the receptionist asks? Still, this is in North America, where the majority speaks English, at least last time I checked. It never hurt to have practiced.
"We can talk the talk very well!" Haruhi slammed her palms onto the counter as she looked back at us confidently. "Isn't that right, guys?"
Asahina-san nervously nodded, shivering probably from the air conditioning that was a few degrees too low for her comfort. Koizumi just smiled and said something akin to "yes". Nagato didn't even react. Those unnervingly blank eyes of hers, however, either told the inquirer that she could do it well, or maybe to get off her case and ask somebody else. Myself? That's what those damn English classes were for. I never expected I'd need those skills so soon, though.
"Kyon," she gave me her "or heads will roll" glare, "Don't tell me you can't speak English. Why else would we have English class if not to teach us how to speak it? You weren't listening to the teacher, were you?"
You're one to talk. That one day you decided to form this madhouse of an organization you call the SOS Brigade, you didn't seem to be listening either. I mean, making a club was probably the only thing on your mind back then.
"Oh, I was listening," she snapped back. "And thinking about what you said earlier."
So which is it?
"It's called multitasking, dumbass."
Thank you for your lecture on the obvious, Haruhi. Now I have another word to add to my vocabulary. Oh, wait! It already has 'multitasking' in it!
"Um, excuse me sir? Miss?" The receptionist cut in, "There's a queue here, and… people are waiting. It's okay if you can't speak English. Your friends can just translate for you."
No, no. You misunderstand. I can speak English fine. I was just thinking really deeply when you asked the question, so I probably didn't hear it clearly.
"In that case," she gave us another practiced smile, "There shouldn't be any problems. Again, welcome to Vancouver."
So we passed that, then the security checkpoint, and then moved down to pick up our luggage. As it were, Haruhi laid the great responsibility of carrying her belongings to the one who had the great power to do that. Yours truly. You know, Haruhi, you're a great many magnitudes stronger than I am. Why can't you just carry them yourself?
It had occurred to me then, the reason of why in God's name we had come here in the first place. It happened a little over half a year ago, the day after Ryoko Asakura, the class representative, almost killed me. Fortunately for myself, Nagato had arrived in time to save my ass and then some. She claimed a specialization in data manipulation, and said something about making things so that Asakura moved out of town. Had she known this would happen, she would have considered 'moving' Asakura someplace closer than Canada.
To be honest, though, I don't think she'd care if she made the official records say that my would-be killer moved to Antarctica. Nagato simply chose the destination arbitrarily. In that event, then, Haruhi would create another one of her miracles and somehow get us a flight to Antarctica, where we would inevitably find nothing but penguins, or maybe even freeze to death before finding anything at all. I guess this means I should be thankful enough that it was Canada, and not Antarctica, that the alien interface chose as a hypothetical destination for her now-defunct backup.
"Say, Haruhi," I said from behind an armful of bags, "Did you arrange for somebody to pick us up, or are we getting a taxi?" It would really be much more convenient if you just told us the important details. It would definitely save me a lot of trouble and worrying. Haruhi said nothing other than "Just follow me". It figures.
We took the long trip to the exit of the International Terminal. Though it wasn't as steep as that hill I had to go to every school day, it was just as bad, as I was carrying almost two dozen pounds' worth of shoes, clothing, and other important supplies in my arms. Once outside, I was relieved to see that Asahina-san had stopped quivering. The internal air conditioning that replicated the effects of a blast chiller could not reach outside the glass doors.
And as expected, our mighty Brigade Commander stood by the taxi stop, raising her hand to hail a cab. All of them were occupied. Attempt and failure lasted for a few minutes, until a lightbulb or something went off in her head and she approached the rest of the group. Not saying anything, she suddenly grabbed Asahina-san by the wrist, causing the poor girl to lose grip of her roller bag's handle, and dragged her to the stop. Haruhi raised the club maid's arms high in yet another attempt to flag down a taxi.
All I could do was watch, my mouth slightly agape, at this turn of events. It wasn't like I didn't see something like this coming, though. The reason I couldn't help but stare at the two was because Haruhi manhandled Asahina-san's wrists like she did with the pompoms back at the baseball game. And just like the time at the baseball game, the latter's full, plump chest began to bounce in a rather obscene way. I had to admit, Haruhi had thought of the perfect way to attract a cab. I could almost see a large number of taxis line up in front of us just to see the bizarre spectacle.
What happened next, however, came completely out of the blue. A black limousine, more than capable of housing all five of us in the back, pulled up to the stop. There must be some kind of mistake. Either that, or this is a really convincing prank. Haruhi's eyebrow shot up. Apparently, she didn't see this one coming either. The windows were tinted, and we'd arrived at night, so it was practically impossible to see if there was anybody riding in the back.
Just what the hell is going on here anyway? As if to answer my question, the window scrolled down to reveal a lone passenger in the back seat. "I heard you were coming to down. Please, get on! There's plenty of room for all of us." I think my heart just went up my throat. It was none other than Ryoko Asakura.
Notes: Another Asakura returns story, by the looks of it. The problem I have now, is where to go with it. I could really use some help with this.