GetBackers Fan Fiction ❯ Moments ❯ A Very Merry Holiday ( Chapter 2 )

Genre: Parody/Romance

Rating: PG-13

Summary: (Ban/Natsumi) AU. He hated her with a passion. She loved his music with a passion to rival his. And the world was about to self-destruct with the force of a supernova.

Alternate Summary: The music was haunting. It was evocative. And it was coming from him.

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Disclaimer: Mou. I still think Makubex should have died.

A.N.: A big thanks to Angel for lending me Mr Landen Has No Brain last year. It did somewhat inspire me to write this fanfic.

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F o u r

An oversized neon sign of Santa Clause fell from the wall of the nearest department store building.

"Ho, ho, ho!" it had cried, right before plunging to its death.

Natsumi giggled, whipped out her digital camera from nowhere at all, and quickly snapped a picture.

The cement below the smoking mass of fluorescent tubes and wiring creaked and groaned, and finally gave up its lifelong struggle of surviving being trampled on by thousands of pairs of pedestrian feet, only to disintegrate into a pinch of monosodium glutamate.

Soon after, the wind carried the crystalline power to No-Man's Land, where a group of carnivorous penguins had themselves a rather glutinous banquet of vodka and fish, medium rare.

Today was just getting better and better, Natsumi thought excitedly.

The light bulb of a street lamp went out with a quiet fizzz, but not before toasting a moth extra crispy and golden brown. A crow flew past, and caught it in its beak.

Natsumi squealed gleefully as a snowflake landed on her nose, and giggled some more.

Then, becoming bored of standing in the middle of a deserted street (where the hell was everybody, anyway? she asked herself spontaneously), with only a wannabe version of a massacred, red and green glowing bomb to keep her company, Natsumi continued onward, on her trek to her Ultimate Destination.

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F i v e

The temperature was precisely negative one hundred and fifteen degrees Celsius, and dropping fast.

Grapefruit-sized chunks of ice, with a twenty-three percent concentration of dirt particles, fell selectively from the obscurity known previously as the sky, creating meteor-like dents on the hard, glacial ground.

The entire population of penguins and seals in the region whimpered pathetically inside their snow igloos, trying to keep up their spirits and body temperatures, even while being deprived of the monthly shipment of vodka from their cousins in the northern hemisphere, which had not arrived on schedule.

Incredibly enough, their current, and so very tragic, deprivation of alcohol had never once occurred since the Second World War, when the entire continent of Antarctica was cast in anti-vodka sentiments, leading to much turbulence and animosity.

"NAARRR!" screeched one, impossibly traumatized seal, prior to falling victim to a seizure, due to a never-before-felt condition of severe vasoconstriction.

Question marks popped forth from the minds of many of the Antarctic animals.

Two thousand four hundred thirty-nine kilometres to the north, the missing deliveryman was currently lying, rather dead, beneath an imported Bombardier snowmobile.

Just ten seconds before, he was happily taking a swig out of one of the many bottles he was transporting. Now, the world was rid of Haruki Emishi forever. Insert dramatic accordion music.

Above the corpse, straddling the snowmobile, was a very wasted Hevn, who ended up at the South Pole after getting lost during her voyage to Greenland.

Oops, she thought blearily (but not very apologetically), before passing out on a pile of whale blubber, some of the monosodium glutamate drifting down from her fake eyelashes.

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S i x

Back in Japan, Natsumi had almost finished eating a packet of Strawberry Pocky, which she always kept in her front pocket for dire emergencies.

Then, in mid-chew, she stopped. For situated underneath her pom-pom boots was the squishy brain of a squirrel that was now nothing more than common road-kill.

Ughn, yuck. Natsumi pulled out her day-to-day agenda, and reminded herself a week from now to call the police about the possibility of a serial killer of rodents being on the loose.

"Croak," went a very confused yak, and stamped its hooves several times to speed up the circulation of lymphocytes in its bloodstream. It had caught a nasty virus from a very disagreeable flea a few days ago.

The dry, old sakura tree shook its bare branches mysteriously, which then jarred awake many of the inhabiting termites. They opened their sharp, little mouths and gnarled threateningly.

Soon to follow were a series of mind-numbing events that would incorrigibly rock the very foundation of Natsumi's world, at least until she bought herself a nuclear shield.

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Seven

A beautiful melody wafted toward Natsumi at the speed of sound, the notes circling around and around her head psychotically.

The yak went oink, the mashed squirrel twitched a single time, before dying for real this time, and Natsumi dived nose first in love.

A while later...

There was nothing quite like it, decided Natsumi loyally, as she trekked five hundred ninety-eight decimal three two six six metres toward the source of the hauntingly evocative music, abandoning once and for all her trip to the grocery store.

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To be continued...

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A. N.: Thanks for reading, and please review!