Haruhi's Birthday
Chapter 15
"I wish Mikuru were here…" Haruhi said to Yuki, who wasn't really paying attention. "Then she could wear this outfit I picked out for her…" Haruhi held in her hands a devil girl costume. "Oh, that reminds me, I need a status report. Yuki, is there any danger?"
"No."
"Great. How is the search for Mikuru?"
"She will be found soon."
"Awesome. We should catch the enemy esper so that we can deeply question him. If I have to, I'll sanction torture."
Yuki didn't reply.
"Kyon and Itsuki need some sort of weapon… I was thinking maybe some swords, but the drama club doesn't have real swords. I wish they had real swords or at least something close to it. Wait! Found something!" She held up two fake swords. "Perfect." She looked at Yuki. "I guess you'll have to wear the outfit."
Meanwhile, Kyon and Itsuki were taking the cake to the cafeteria, were they could keep it refrigerated.
"She changed the whole layout of the school," Kyon said. "We did not have a walk in freezer."
"Well, let's just hope she changes it back," Itsuki replied.
"What if she doesn't?"
Itsuki didn't reply, but instead changed the subject. "So Miss Suzumiya is really adamant about the fighting thing?"
"Yeah. So how do we work this out?"
"I do not know. I guess we'll have to tussle, huh?"
"Never, again, say that phrase."
Itsuki laughed and handed him a napkin. "Wipe it off."
"What?"
"The name, wipe off the name."
"You do it."
"I don't want to mess up."
"So you'd rather I mess up?"
Itsuki patted Kyon on the back. "You get the point."
"But you really don't understand not to touch me. Let me draw a line here." Kyon stepped back. "You see this? This is my personal space."
Itsuki smiled his usual smile. "Okay."
"That's it?"
"What do you mean?"
"So we're clear, right?"
"Yeah. Personal space. Gotcha."
Kyon scowled and there was an awkward silence, yet again. The silence was broken by none other than Haruhi who had come looking for them. "Hello? Kyon! Itsuki!"
"Wipe it off!" Itsuki said. But it was too late, Haruhi entered the room.
"Where have you two been? You're needed at the—" She saw the cake. "Oh it's so pretty. I knew I could count on you Itsuki."
"Uh, yes, Mr. Koizumi at your service," He replied. Kyon took this chance.
"Why don't you look at the top of the cake Haruhi?" Kyon said.
"Why would I do that?" She asked as she walked closer to the cake.
"No reason," Itsuki said.
"What? What's wrong with it?" Haruhi asked, curious.
"Nothing…" Itsuki shot Kyon a killer look.
Haruhi looked at the two. "What? What's up? Really this isn't funny!" She looked at the cake and frowned. "Why is Yuki's name on MY cake?" She looked at Kyon. "You really can't do anything right."
Kyon was surprised. "Wha—me?"
"Of course! You're the one who was in charge of the cake! Didn't I tell you to write 'Haruhi is the Greatest Ever' or something on the cake?"
"First of all, Itsuki was in charge of the cake. He told me that he had everything under control. Second of all, I don't remember what you told me to write on that cake."
"At least write something that sounds like me! Not Yuki is the Greatest! Where did that even come from?"
"I don't know! Itsuki—"
"Stop blaming it on him! You know what Kyon, you're demoted. You're now the—the janitor of the SOS Brigade."
"The cake is okay! You can fix it." He wiped off the icing with his finger and licked it. "See?"
Haruhi stared at him with wide eyes. "You—you ate my cake… before I could."
"What?" Kyon was frustrated by now.
"That's a capital offense!" Haruhi was really angry by now. She grabbed the closest thing she could find, which happened to be a bottle of ketchup (don't ask me why), and threw it at Kyon. Kyon moved out of the way and it splattered against the wall. Itsuki who was just quietly watching, started laughing. Haruhi glared at him. "What are you laughing at?"
"The back of Kyon's shirt is…"
Kyon tried to turn around to see the back of his shirt, the best that he could. There was ketchup all over the back of his shirt. "Aw crap…" he said. "This was my nice shirt Haruhi!"
Haruhi and Itsuki broke out in laughter. Kyon was irritated. "Hahaha, very funny. I am laughing my ass off so hard. I mean I am just cracking up. Oops I just wet myself from all the jubilation."
Haruhi tried to control herself. "Enough with the sarcasm, goodness." She tried to regain her composure. "Okay, okay, I'm good now…" Itsuki caught himself too, almost.
"It, it looks like he got stabbed in the back…" Itsuki said.
"Oh but I think I was," Kyon said.
"Come on Kyon, let's get another shirt," Haruhi suggested.
"From where bridezilla," Kyon asked.
"From the drama club Pinocchio," she replied, as she exited the room.
"Pinnocchio…?" Kyon repeated. "That makes no sense…"
Haruhi came back. "What are we waiting for? We've got guests to attend to." The two walked to the drama club classroom, which was strangely unaffected by Haruhi's power, and entered. Haruhi looked at all the costumes available and picked the ugliest retro 90's shirt there was. She tossed it to Kyon. He caught it and looked at it in all its retro glory. He shook his head and threw it on the floor. He grabbed a regular shirt. He glared at Haruhi. She glared right back.
"Uh, could you step out please?" He asked.
"Why?" Haruhi answered, "You're a boy. You're only changing your shirt." Kyon sighed. Haruhi looked confused. "You are a boy, right?"
"Yes," Kyon said as he nodded his head. "I am definitely a dude."
"Okay then," she replied.
"Well can you at least stop staring at me?"
"I'm not."
"Yes you are, and it's uncomfortable."
"You don't want me to see you shirtless?"
"Are you implying something?"
"Would it make you happy if I changed with you?"
Is this a trick question? Kyon thought. "Uh, no. That'd make it even worse."
"Oh." Haruhi still didn't budge. There was a moment of silence. "Well?" Haruhi continued.
"Would you just get out the room!" Kyon yelled.
Haruhi frowned. "Oh fine." She got up and left. Kyon waited for a moment to see if she'd change her mind. When she didn't come back, he quickly changed. When he came out Haruhi was nowhere to be seen. Kyon shrugged and began to walk toward the party.