Written for mafalda157. :D

A Cause for Celebration

If some unlucky historian were tasked to document the farcical story of my high school life, and if they wished to set down for posterity - as a cautionary tale, say - a particular stretch of my second year, they would probably say that the whole thing began with Asahina's birthday celebrations.

Let's leave aside the problem of calculating a time traveller's true age and the complicating effects of relativity, or the simpler question of whether the date in question was really Asahina's birthday. Tsuruya thought it was Asahina's birthday, and that was good enough for her. And, by extension, it had to be good enough for us.

"...and so you guys gotta help us out! You're Mikuru's friends an' everything!"

Like a good subordinate, I glanced automatically at Haruhi. Some sort of internal battle was clearly being waged behind those bright eyes. It was easy enough to predict its form: the mundanity of birthday celebrations versus these vague things known as 'social niceties' that Haruhi had finally started to acknowledge. Or perhaps there were stronger forces on the latter side: an excuse to do something appropriately grandiose and insane? The chance to bring us all another step closer to juvenile delinquency? By the time that familiar determined gleam surfaced in Haruhi's gaze, I wasn't sure if I should feel relieved or worried.

"Mission accepted! You can trust us, Tsuruya: this will be the most extraordinary celebration ever!"

Extraordinary, indeed. That was the one thing you could count on, when it came to Haruhi.

...or so I thought, which just goes to show that Haruhi defies prediction. In the end, the celebrations were thankfully straightforward. By Haruhi-involving standards that simply meant that the fabric of reality was unthreatened and our particular version of our world lived to see another day. Not that I was complaining. In the grand scheme of things, an embarrassing mascot costume, a kitchen-flooding baking disaster and and a telling-off by the school authorities were but a small price to pay.

No - Asahina's birthday itself was almost unnervingly normal. It was only afterwards that the problem started.

"Wasn't Mikuru's grand birthday event a huge success?"

There are so many wrong assumptions in that rhetorical question that I'm not sure where to start, Haruhi. But 1) I couldn't have said that to our dear commander, and 2) she was already barrelling on ahead in this one-sided conversation with all the single-minded determination of a runaway freight train.

"It just goes to show that the SOS Brigade is ready for any sort of undertaking, paranormal or otherwise!" I didn't have to turn around in my seat to know the look on Haruhi's face: a mad, triumphant happiness. "It's good that we had the chance to do this now, since Mikuru's in her third year already. But we can't neglect the other brigade members - we should find out when Yuki's birthday is, too, she seemed really enthusiastic this time-"

Reading enthusiasm into Nagato's indifferent compliance is like claiming that Anpanman is a profound work of cinematic genius.

"And Koizumi's too-"

Pass.

"I'm sure finding out those dates won't be too hard. I'm leaving it to you, Kyon! As for mine, it's-"

And there it was. A nonchalant remark that would have been innocuous if spoken by anyone else. A simple everyday hint that normal high school students give their normal high school friends when they would like a normal high school birthday celebration. The fact that it had been said by a certain Suzumiya Haruhi, however, meant that there was far more at stake than arguments over how many balloons to get and what flavour of cake to buy.

The neutral observer might, at this point, claim that my assessment of the situation was far too harsh. After all, we hadn't seen any Earth-threatening forces or fluctuations in reality yet. What the neutral observer doesn't understand is that dealing with Suzumiya Haruhi means that you end up cultivating a certain worldview commonly known as 'screaming paranoia'. I had grown used to assuming that everything happens for a reason, as if our lives were being written by an amateur novelist who was determined to stock his world with an arsenal of Chekhov's guns. The sad part was that this assumption was often true. And after a year sans birthday celebrations - or, indeed, sans any acknowledgment of the existence of birthdays - the sudden release of this bit of information set off an entire carillon of alarm bells. I remembered all too clearly the impatience with which she'd treated any mention of birthdays, the off-handed way in which she had stymied my attempts to casually mention my own - no, this new development was entirely uncharacteristic! Not that a characteristically-acting Haruhi is very reassuring either, but at least regular Haruhi is a predictable sort of terrifying.

So. Haruhi has previously shown no interest in birthdays. The SOS Brigade successfully (for some measure of success) celebrates Asahina's birthday. A new piece of information enters our tiny SOS-Brigade-world: Haruhi's own birthday.

The conclusion to be drawn is obvious. What to do with that conclusion is rather less so.

"It's touching that you always come to me when you need to understand our dear brigade chief," Koizumi said lightly. A strange expression seemed to flicker across his face, before it was replaced by the usual empty smile.

Had it been a smirk? A pitying look? Both possibilities were annoying. "It's not like Asahina and Nagato will be much help in this regard," I muttered. And you enjoy psychoanalysing all of us far too much - at least put that unsavoury hobby to use! "Besides, there's no harm in sharing intel, and I'm sure the agency's got a psychological profile on her that would fill a library."

"You have no idea," Koizumi said, his plastic smile still firmly in place. "But I'd have thought that you knew her well enough by now."

That assumes that anyone can ever know Haruhi well enough. I'd have better luck becoming an Egyptologist or a particle physicist. (Haruhi's space-time shenanigans have probably given me a solid empirical grounding in theoretical physics, anyway.) "All I know is that Haruhi's birthday is in less than two weeks' time, and that she probably expects... something. Whatever that is, we'd better give that to her. I don't suppose we can just throw her a surprise party, either."

For an instant, Koizumi's smile looked a little pained. "No, I doubt an unsubtle adherence to societal convention and high school cliches is really the right path. If you remember what happened at the end of last school year..."

Ah. That. I almost had a long and torturous flashback, but stopped myself in time. Still, the memories from Valentine's Day and White Day were all too fresh. The number of times I had to avert apocalypse on those two occasions alone would rival the career of a mid-tier superhero; sometimes the sight of chocolate was still enough to make me shiver.

"Right," I said. "No surprise parties. How about... a surprise seance? A surprise alien-hunting adventure?"

Koizumi stifled a laugh. I stifled the urge to hit him.

"I suppose that would indeed be more in line with Suzumiya-san's tastes. A very SOS-Brigade sort of project. In fact- wait, yes- perhaps these are separate issues..."

Don't act like you're having an epiphany if you're not going to voice it fully!

"It's interesting," Koizumi said eventually, with an expression that was clearly meant to look thoughtful but merely seemed like overacting, "that you're the only one to whom Suzumiya-san mentioned her birthday."

"She obviously thinks that I'm enough of a minion to do the job of relaying this information to the rest of you."

"Mm," Koizumi said.

I don't know why you're smiling in that creepy way, but you should stop it.

He laughed. "Well. Shall we bring this up to the others?"

As it turned out, we'd already missed Koizumi's birthday, and Nagato's alleged birthday wasn't until next term. Which meant that Haruhi might simply calm down about the whole birthday business and acquire a less dangerously personal obsession, like crop circles or electromagnetic phenomena.

That, at least, is what I would have liked to believe, if not for the fact that my long acquaintance with Haruhi had eroded my optimism down to nothing. Haruhi still hadn't mentioned her birthday to the others, but there was a certain anticipation in the air of the Literature Club room. Haruhi seemed to be even more excitable than usual; I wasn't sure if that was better or worse than when she was sulking. I'd hate to be responsible for an earth-destroying bout of disappointment.

At Koizumi's suggestion, we SOS Brigade members had taken to having occasional bouts of whispering amongst ourselves, and pretending to look guilty when allowing Haruhi to spot these mock-clandestine conversations. ("The best surprise parties are the ones that you're waiting for" - a meaningless line delivered glibly by Koizumi.) That charade didn't quite reflect reality, however. There was just over a week left for us to come up with a Haruhi-scale celebration, and so far we'd got nowhere. Nagato was useless, of course - humanoid interfaces probably threw very boring parties - and Asahina's constant low-level terror seemed to prevent her from making many contributions to the discussion. In light of the fact that I represented half of the working team, Koizumi's suggestion at the end of one failed brainstorming sessions was all the more bizarre:

"I think you should leave this to the three of us."

That's like leaving a UN conference in the hands of elementary school kids! I looked at the other two in shock, to no avail. Nagato was her usual impassive self, and Asahina was looking fearfully in Koizumi's direction. Well, at least someone else realises the stupidity of such a suggestion.

"Wait," Koizumi said. For a moment I thought he had realised his mistake, but no: "Let me explain. The SOS Brigade should definitely come up with something worthy of presenting to our dear commander. But I think you should have a project of your own, too."

Haruhi may be demanding, but I doubt that even she wants two giant birthday celebrations.

"You know what I mean."

No, I don't. Perhaps you should explain yourself better. Or explain yourself at all.

Koizumi sighed exaggeratedly. I glanced at Asahina - and watched as comprehension dawned slowly on her beautiful face. That was all very well, but comprehension certainly wasn't dawning on me.

"In any case," Koizumi went on, "we should consider the possibility that this isn't a problem created solely by Suzumiya-san."

Excuse me? I'm not sure I understand your implication, and if I do understand it, I certainly don't like it.

"All I am saying," Koizumi went on, with infuriating gentleness, "is that there's no immediate reason for us to worry. It doesn't seem as if Suzumiya-san has been experiencing any emotional fluctuations, even as the days go by. If anything, well - it seems that you're the one getting flustered about the upcoming event."

It's called 'having a self-preservation instinct'!

"Never mind. If you're this worried, then you probably already understand, if only subconsciously." He paused, presumably for theatric effect. "Have you considered why Haruhi would develop an interest in birthdays, after all this time?"

For an ostensibly clever person, Koizumi, you can sometimes seem utterly dense. I would have thought that simple cause-and-effect relations were within your abilities. "Well, after Tsuruya's suggestion..."

He shook his head. "I suggest you consider that question again."

Fathoming the depths of Haruhi's mind can be a harrowing experience. Admittedly, that has less to do with the actual supposed contents of her psyche, which are probably not that abnormal for a teenage girl, and more to do with the fact that a constant video reel of potential reality-warping outcomes keeps playing in my head.

In any case, I took Koizumi's advice, despite my usual distaste for such a course of action. Or tried to, at least. It was much easier to figure out why Haruhi had previously been uninterested in birthdays. They were mundane. Perhaps even on several levels. I remembered a subdued monologue near a train crossing, the mental image of a much younger Haruhi in a sea of faceless people: in a sense, birthdays were the greatest manifestation of the delusion of one's significance. A day meant to be special, but which is celebrated in the same boring, ordinary fashion all over the world. A day meant to underline how special you are, but one shared with millions of other boring, ordinary people. Seen from Haruhi's perspective, I could almost sympathise; it was an unnerving feeling.

That didn't get me any closer to figuring out Koizumi's cryptic comments, however. Unlike Nagato, who was opaque by nature, Koizumi clearly delighted in being hard to understand.

I laid it out in my head. Haruhi considers birthdays mundane. No, more than that: an emphasis of mundanity. So what would make that change? The over-the-top events for Asahina's birthday? Would it be enough if Haruhi's way of celebrating was unique? But Koizumi had implied that that wasn't it, and that wouldn't resolve the issue of personal insignificance. If your birthday doesn't belong to you alone, what makes it special? What makes you special?

That train of thought was getting dangerously close to resulting in the sort of nauseatingly twee Hallmark-card sentiments which get shoehorned into episodes of children's television shows. Is this the sort of realization you wanted me to have, Koizumi? I can't even form it into a coherent thought; it's far too embarrassing to voice.

"Kyon?"

I looked up. The object of my confused thoughts was peering down at me with a suspicious expression. "I thought you'd fallen asleep on your desk or something. You've been very distracted lately."

No thanks to you, dear commander. Ah well. If nothing else, I could stick with Plan A. Play it like the faux-whispering with the other SOS Brigade members, let slip that something's up: make it clear to Haruhi that she didn't have to worry, that she was definitely going to get what she wanted. Some version of it, at least. Assuming that what she wanted really was a surprise celebratory event.

"We- I was just wondering if you had any plans after school this Friday."

She frowned. It wasn't one of her usual arsenal of frowns - there was a suppressed eagerness behind it. So far, everything was according to plan. "Isn't the SOS Brigade still meeting as normal?"

"Ah, yes, of course it is. Good. Good."

That should have been enough. It should all have been enough. After the theatrics in the clubroom and the unsubtle hint I had just dropped, Haruhi must have been sufficiently informed, ten times over, that something SOS-planned was in the works. All I had to do was trust in the combined capabilities of Koizumi, Nagato, and Asahina. That wasn't the easiest thing to do, but they had helped to save the world from Haruhi's wrath before; they could ultimately be relied upon. And yet the lingering sense of unease that had followed me around like a particularly clingy pet dog still had its metaphorical teeth fastened on the corner of my metaphorical trouser-leg. There was something more: something missing.

For whatever reason, the unwelcome image of Koizumi's sickly smile floated into my mind. There was a different sort of anticipation in Haruhi's eyes, a light that was slowly slipping into disappointment. I grasped desperately at that half-formed realization: platitudes about what it means to be special, what it means to be important, to whom-

"A-and, well, I was wondering if you had any plans... that is, I mean... for after the meeting?"

Haruhi smiled.

In that instant, it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Not that I'm sentimental that way, of course. Don't get me wrong. Haruhi's smile had the radiance of the first sunrise that a once-condemned prisoner sees when he's earned a reprieve and finally leaves his jail. The strange giddiness I felt upon seeing it was obviously mere relief at having found the answer to the puzzle, and that smile was disappearing quickly anyway, stifled sharply by Haruhi herself - though she couldn't hide the shine in her eyes, or the slightest rush of blood to her cheeks.

"Not as such. I mean, as brigade chief, I have to be ready for all eventualities! Including the possibility that club activities might run late. And if they don't run late, then- then I have the evening free."

"That's good," I said, feeling slightly light-headed. "Well - if they don't run late - would you mind spending the time with me?"

Emotions warred in Haruhi's eyes like light across the surface of a river. I felt as if I were drowning.

"I guess that's fine," she conceded at last.

Despite the feigned reluctance, that sentence sounded as sweet as the toll of village church bells, welcoming their war-wounded home; the end of this particular battle.

Or, well, not quite. In a way, it was only the beginning of further pain, and certainly further desperate planning. I had got myself into a da- into spending a few hours with a girl whose enthusiasm could change swiftly into disappointment, on a day which had only just become important to her, and which had become important for theorised reasons which I could not permit myself to admit. Things could go horribly wrong. In a normal scenario that might just mean bruised flowers and a few days of sulking, but when things go horribly wrong where Suzumiya Haruhi is involved, they go wrong on a cosmic scale. Literally.

And yet, despite the crushing responsibility, the panicked lack of ideas, the resigned feeling that Koizumi had been right - I felt better.

"It's a date, then," I said, somehow managing not to choke on my own tongue. "And just so you know," I began, fully anticipating the interruption that would follow, "my birthday is..."

Like Icarus stumbling in mid-flight, my sentence trailed off prematurely. The interruption never came. I blinked, startled - Haruhi was looking straight at me, with an unnerving expression on her face. A lot of her expressions are unnerving, mainly due to what they signal about the fate of the SOS Brigade/the next helpless bystander to get caught up in events/reality itself, but this one...

"Well?" she said.

Was that the hint of amusement in that voice? A smile?

"Ah. Y-yes. It's-"

-end-