Picture this: high school girl, white long-sleeved blouse, navy blue ribbon below the collar, navy blue miniskirt, long black stockings. See it? Okay. Now get your hand out of your goddamn pants. Good. Ordinary, right? Completely normal and unnoticeable. Now plunk her in the middle of a veritable horde of similarly attired teens swarming towards school at the height of the morning rush, and the illusion is complete-- a perfectly unremarkable female high school student walking amidst hundreds of others like her. But an illusion it was. The gentle bobbing gait was a charade, the focused gaze a farce. Truly, every way this particular youth was moving at the moment was a travesty, a scathing parody of her true nature. It was all a hoax, a thin veneer that hid what lay underneath. The tall almond-skinned figure regarding the youth from afar was an unbelievably powerful individual, to be sure. He could deflect devastating ki blows with the strength of his passive will alone. Utterly disintegrating shadowy warriors before contemplating a future engagement for a little tête-à-tête for three was no problem, rather amusing, in fact. But more to the point, he was a man of supreme intelligence, a genius behind the machinations of a game the Student Council believed they themselves to be the masters of. Despite all this, however, he was taking the illusion in, hook, line, sinker, reel, tackle, rod, and possibly even some of the fisherman's arm as well. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" he murmured to himself as he peered out between the slats of his office window to observe closer the visage who had piqued his interest. Undetected from his vantage, he began to take its measure. Strangely foreign, but far from unattractive face... slender, supple body... large blue eyes that rivaled the hue of the sky itself. "Well this MUST be my lucky month," the almond-skinned individual chuckled to himself as he turned from his window to cup his chin meditatively. "Should things go according to design, then it would appear that I need not wait until after the fight to indulge myself in a little... diversion." Alone for the most part in his luxurious working quarters, the End of the Rug laughed to himself (in a generally dignified, non-psychotic way, you understand), wholly unaware of the change being visited upon the young girl whom he had so taken to but moments ago. The subject in question had simply stayed still long enough for the chairman to get a good look at her. When she was done, normal movement resumed... meaning that particle physics were, on the whole, ignored as said girl appeared to be several places at once. "WAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIII-- Brother Seki thinks I look nice! WAAAAAAAAAII- o/~ Preeeetty, Seki thinks I'm preeeetty..." Seki sweatdropped. What he'd *actually* said was that she looked 'almost normal' in Hiroto High's uniform, but far be it beyond him to correct something as infinitesimally inconsequential as that. Especially if the one he'd have to correct had an infinitesimally inconsequential attention span. Hijinks ensued involving a high-speed human superball, projectile thermodynamics, and several unfortunate Hiroto High students who happened to be within the blast zone. Inside his office, blissfully ignorant of the events outside, the End of the Rug whistled cheerfully as he marked down a box on his daily organizer (a Hello Kitty one!). The thought on his mind as he went off to proceed with the dark and mysterious dealings familiar only to megalomanic men bent on world domination and normal school chairmans, was a mostly happy one. "I like the way she arrays herself. Unusual, yet spunky," the End of the Rug decided. "Light bulbs. Around the hair. I *like* it." Outside, Lumi-chan paused to sneeze cutely. *** *** *** FURNITURE WARRIORS X PLUS SIGMA TURBO THALLIUM BATTLE 2002 or simply, FURNITURE WARRIORS X Hey, whatever floats your boat. *shrug* Brian Stricklin is the original author of this impro, biznitch. This particular installment is brought to you by Mads, to whom all your Yuffie are belong. (The Furniture Warriors concept itself is the copyright of Nihana-san, foo'. So... this would be technically fanfiction of fanfiction of fanfiction. Meh. If I even thought about claiming it was mine, I... Ah, CRUD. There is no WAY I can top David's part. What the HELL am I supposed to do now, huh? Sorry, Brian, but Comrade Schwager has left me with NO alternative. There is a dial in my head, people. It has numbers around it that count from one to twelve. I am reaching into my brain now. I am turning the knob so the pointer indicates thirteen. You have been warned. Now WHY are you still here?) *** *** *** CHAPTER VII Don't Let the Chair Bugs Bite! -OR- Fixing an Oaken Heart! -OR- Ah, Fuck, Who Am I Kidding? I'm Just Delaying The Inevitable. On With The Show! *** *** *** "So that's all you came here to tell me then? You're leaving for a few days to go stand under a waterfall and wrestle bears or something?" Kouto's voice had the hard edge of sarcasm to it, but somehow, the young man's venom affected the large, decidedly bear-like individual by the door very little, if at all. "Not exactly, but it *might* involve those, if necessary," came the serious reply. The giant shifted and moved further inside the room. "Private training," Benma repeated for Kouto, his tone a dead calm. Both his posture and facial expression revealed no emotion; only the way he was toying with one hand the locket that dangled around his thick neck betrayed the unease he actually felt. "I think I need it. The way Seki defeated me the other day means that I've let my skills wane. I've allowed the Student Council privileges make me grow soft." "Don't be ridiculous, you overgrown brute," Kouto scoffed. The effect of his harsh invective was somewhat lessened, however, by the fact that he was slightly out of breath for some reason. "We all saw how the Bed descended to assist the upstart. We don't know how or why, but that was CLEARLY outside interference. Kotaro's currently handling the arrangements for a rematch as we speak, and--" "He BEAT me fair and square," Benma said with a deep growl just loud enough to sufficiently interrupt Kouto. "I will not fight him again until I am ready. And besides..." There was a pause as Benma clutched at his locket firmly with a hand. "The match has given me... a lot to think about." Neither boy spoke for what seemed to be several seconds. "Very well," Kouto said disgustedly after a moment. He turned his head to face the largest member of the Student Council with some measure of disdain. This potentially bishounen look was marred by the slightly tousled and generally unkempt appearance of his red and white clothes. "So will that be all?" "One last thing, actually." Benma allowed himself a smirk. "Maybe YOU might need a little brushing up on the Way as well." "INSOLENT CRETIN!" Kouto barked, outraged. "You just barge in here uninvited and then dare imply--" "I remember when you used to run circles around me with your speed," Benma interrupted again, startling Kouto to silence with his louder, more forceful voice. "I remember when you almost yanked the very rug from my hands with your infernal Entangler. What happened? I rather understand Kotaro's defeat, but Seki should have been no problem for YOU." Kouto's hands, which had been occupied with a few things as he and Benma talked, slowed and then stopped in their movements. The Student Council president's eyes were impossible to read. "Did you come here just to tell me all this? Why didn't you just take off without telling anyone? You know, for effect." The mockery was unmistakable in his tone. "I thought I'd be polite," Benma sniffed. "You ARE still the Student Council president after all, aren't you? Seeing as that neither Kotaro nor I've managed to beat Seki, that is. It would have been rude if I left without telling you first." "You're worried about being RUDE!?" Kouto roared, incredulous. Now, it is worth noting at this point that, for the sake of literary simplicity, certain details of Kouto and Benma's conversation were left out so as not to distract anyone from the actual dialogue. Now that most of what was worth careful attention has been said, these aforementioned details may be belatedly revealed without compromising proper focus. First, it was rather dark in the room. They were in one of those rooms that schools always seem to have for no particular reason-- you know the kind. Too small to be a classroom, and too big to be a closet. Just tiny niches cut into the building walls for miscellaneous uses, such as the holding of ominous, largely clandestine meetings. Sounds of the small, mewling variety had been emanating from directly in front of Kouto throughout the run of his exchange with Benma, the small cries punctuating every other word. Lastly, Kouto appeared to have a female Hiroto High student pinned between him and the wall he was facing. The girl had her head tilted upwards, eyes closed, and face deeply flushed, facts that were most likely explained by the one hand currently a ways up the student's short blue skirt, and another hand busily exploring the region between her neck and solar plexus. This was, of course, excluding *Kouto's* hands. "*You're* worried about being *RUDE*!?" Kouto demanded again, as if inviting Benma to review their situation in full. There was a moment of relative silence between the two men in the room. Benma gestured to indicate Kouto's guest. "SHE doesn't seem to mind." "WELL, *I* MIND," Kouto pointed out with as much fury as he could possibly stuff in three words without making them explode. "And now that you've said your piece, I would *very* much appreciate it if you would kindly just GO AWA--" "Ohohoho. Looks like *you've* certainly got *her* fired up," came the amused observation from Kouto's right side. "JESUS!" said Kouto with great feeling, almost tossing the girl in his arms to the side in surprise. He recovered enough to put his hands back where they were supposed to be and at least maintain his momentum. The girl leaning against the wall didn't seem to notice anything was amiss. Kouto boggled angrily at the newcomer. "What are YOU doing here!!?" "I formally challenged Seki-san today," Ijima said casually, slipping on top of a nondescript box conveniently written in among the room's furnishings for her sitting pleasure. "I just thought you'd like to know." "All of a sudden people are concerned about my state of information," Kouto sighed deeply, a vein throbbing on his forehead. "Can't you two see that I'm a little *BUSY* right now!?" He jerked his head towards the female he was currently working to a thin sweat. "And I thought you weren't all that eager to confront Seki after what happened to Benma?" "Ohohohohohooo, maybe I was a trifle... anxious at first," Ijima began, a hand held to her mouth as she laughed demurely. "But my challenge was also part reconnaissance-- it would appear that Seki-san has paid a price for the power he so recently used. His body won't be able to take another infusion of energy so great-- at least not as soon as when my match with him is scheduled, it would seem." "Well this looks like your lucky day," Kouto snarled, glancing at Benma, and then looking at Ijima again. "Big Bear over here just said he won't be fighting Seki again even IF Kotaro manages to stage a rematch. You're going to fight him a little earlier than you'd have expected, and he'll have less time to recover." "Oh, goody!" Ijima squealed, actually hopping up and down and clapping childishly a couple of times. Blinking behind her thin, round glasses in realization of what she'd just done, she cleared her throat and then composed herself. "I mean... Ohohohohohohohooo." "Now if you don't *mind*," Kouto began again, teeth clenched and bared as he spoke so there would be no mistake as to the implied physical threat he had behind his words. "The door is open and to your ri--" "Good news, boss!" a jovial male shout filled the room. FurnitureSpace opened up and spat out a body onto the floor immediately to Kouto's left. Kotaro was sitting in a cross-legged position and was looking up at Kouto while holding out a hiptop for his inspection. "Everything is set! Benma can fight next week! Hey, you picked a real looker there this time, Nakajima." "Somehow, I'm not all that surprised anymore," Kouto muttered to himself, rubbing at his temples with a hand at the latest intrusion. "Benma's not fighting, OKAY? Now, all three of you, get the HELL out of here before I--" "What!? Are you out of your gourd!?" Kotaro blurted out without letting Kouto finish his threat. He turned to Benma. "What do you MEAN you're not fighting!?" "Yes, I'd like to know as well," Ijima said curiously, rising from her seat to regard the big youth with head cocked slightly to the side. "Why HAVE you decided not to fight Seki again?" "Well, it would seem that I have neglected my training and--" A red-orange battle aura appeared to be emanating from around Kouto's figure. "[GET OUT]!!!" "-- and I think I'll tell you more outside. Let's go." "Oh, yes, yes, of course," Kotaro agreed readily, vanishing into a portal to FurnitureSpace, hiptop and all. "A perfectly sensible suggestion," Ijima said, nodding. She followed Benma out the door with quick, delicate steps and then was gone. Kouto sighed deeply again. He looked up at the ceiling, eyes narrowed and clouded with thought. A frown creased his androgynous features. "I've let my skills slip, huh?" he murmured to himself. The girl underneath him slowly opened her eyes and looked around, breathing erratically. "Wh-where is everyone?" Kouto looked down sharply, face twitching. "WHAT!?" The girl smiled shyly, a pinky to her lips. "I kinda... liked being watched..." Kouto could only blink as the girl extricated herself from his embrace, straightened herself up a bit, and then walked to the door. She turned to wave a farewell at the baffled youth. "S'long, Kouto-chan. Thanks for the memories!" She blew him a kiss and then skipped away. Kouto sighed for the third time that hour. It was just as well. He'd lost his appetite anyway. *** *** *** What had occured during the match with Benma had been... strange. The Bed had come from FursnitureSpace, without a doubt. But who had summoned it? And why? Why? Why was he moving at fifty kph? "Enh?" Seki said intelligently, interrupted in his musings by the late realization that Yashiko was waving him around in the air, schooldesk and all. He hadn't even realized she had that much upper body strength. "BACK! Back, I say!" Yashiko was shrieking, holding Seki overhead with a hand and shaking a cattle prod with the other at a small swarm of girls that appeared to be oozing, crawling, making grabs for, and otherwise moving towards Seki, glazed, glassy looks on their eyes, vapid grins plastered on their faces. In other words, they were all acting like a bunch of moonstruck fangirls. It was to be expected, really. Seki'd been angsting thoughtfully for the last five minutes regarding the incident with the Bed, eyes distant, arms folded, and it was inevitable that his Bishounen Aura would eventually induce every female within a certain radius to mindless worship. Every female without an attention deficiency disorder that rivaled that of goldfish, that is. As it were, Lumi-chan was singing loudly in her seat, combining her solo impromptu concert with complex gymnastic feats and dances that seemed to be done all within the sole vicinity of her two-feet-by-three desk; she appeared to be the only female unaffected by Seki's emoting. Well, the only OTHER female. Vanity seemed to be having thoughts of her own, and though they largely concerned Seki, it wasn't in response to his unintentional fanservicing. Vanity, for her part, had her share of male observers from all around her. "Yashiko-san is so protective of Master Seki," Vanity mused wistfully as she watched the girls of the class play tug-of-war with Seki's arms. Yashiko was alone on her side, but she appeared to be winning. Vanity sighed. "Master Seki wants me to be free so much... but I don't even understand what that means. I can't even protect *myself*..." She sighed again. Seki had jumped high and had taken a hold of the light fixture on the ceiling. It was amazing how it was holding out given that attached to Seki were several girls, including Yashiko, all clutching onto parts of his clothes, dangling and swinging freely. "Master Seki's not like Master Kouto at all," Vanity decided, not for the first time. "Master Seki treats me kindly, and never asks me to do anything... but... but..." Seki appeared to be making a mad dash for the door, but several sets of hands simultaneously grabbed at the back of his blazer, pulling him back into the fray. He made a small sound of dismay and was swallowed into a churning mass of bodies. "This time... I... I..." A pile of girls had accumulated near the middle of the classroom, and its constituents appeared to be clawing at each other and digging to get to the center. At the very bottom, a well-timed back arching allowed Seki an opening so he could try to crawl away. Just before he cleared the heap, he felt tugging at his legs, and he was pulled back inside. Vanity rose from her seat suddenly, eyes large and strobe-like. Around her, pink sakura blossoms wafted down from an inexplicable source, nicely complementing the bright yellow one-piece dress she wore instead of the Hiroto High uniform. "... I want to do something for Master Seki!" she cried out, holding her hands to her chest, voice ringing with shaky determination. "Master Seki doesn't want me to do anything for him... but it makes me want to do things for him even more!" From around her, a goodly portion of the male members of the class slid into place around her, forming a semi-circle of applauding and cheering people. Some of them were waving flags and whistling with approval. "Oh dear," Vanity gasped, eyes fluttering. "I think I may be hyperventilating..." She exhaled, plopped gently back onto her chair and then fell unconscious on her desktop. The way all the chaos running unchecked was somewhat understandable-- Kumayama was gone, and the students were still feeling the afterglow. That, and nobody had come to replace him to teach homeroom and history in his stead yet. Which was precisely why the End of the Rug (assuming his alter ego as School Chairman, of course) was walking down the hall towards the classroom accompanied by a red-haired man in a boring brown suit. "SO glad you could arrive on such short notice, senseii," the almond- skinned chairman was saying with a soft smile. "The police are still trying to find out what happened to Kumayama-san, but something tells me he won't be coming back. And besides, it wouldn't do to leave a class without a teacher now, would it?" The one called 'senseii' smiled and nodded in understanding, his upturned red-orange hair bobbing a little to the movement. "Of course, of course. But may I ask... what happened to the other substitute who was assigned to Kumayama-san's class?" "If I told you, you wouldn't want to teach here anymore." "A--" Before the stranger could protest, they arrived at the classroom door, and the End of the Rug waved a hand dramatically towards the inside of the room. "Behold! Your new class!" Lumi-chan had grabbed a firm hold of Seki's arm and had single-handedly shaken everyone loose of his frame. Moments before the End of the Rug and his friend's arrival, Lumi had been running around the room with Seki in tow, screaming/singing something about 'wai' and 'ice kurimuu'. Yashiko, desperate to reclaim physical proximity with Seki, dashed to the front of the class, a finger pointed at Lumi-chan in a commanding manner. "LUMI-CHAN! Do that thing I taught you to do the other day!" *** *** *** "Ne, Yashiko-oneechan, what's a 'ro-man-tic date?'" "Well, Lumi-chan, it's like this..." Yashiko had only been too glad to help. It was like giving someone a makeover, or something. The rest of the time that followed up until Seki's match had been an exercise in near-futility to educate the buzzing teen in the finer points of boy-girl relationships and dating. Feeling that Lumi-chan wasn't quite ready to learn the principle of the thing yet, Yashiko decided to just outline a general idea of exactly what it WAS that went on in 'romantic dates'. Barring that, Yashiko finally settled for just strongly cautioning Lumi-chan on what NOT to do. The lessons were far from complete, but Yashiko felt that she did pretty well, considering. She even managed to teach her a few tricks. *** *** *** "Huh? What?" the blue-eyed Furniture Warrior said, turning to look at Yashiko and slowing down the tiiiiiiiiniest little bit. "That thing with the eyes! Do it!" "Oh! Okay!" At that precise moment, two adult men appeared outside of the door. Lumi-chan had dropped Seki somewhere along her looping track about the classroom, skidding to a halt near where Yashiko had taken position. By the time the two by the door caught sight of her, Lumi-chan had taken a deep breath and then had begun. Now, you have to understand, Lumi-chan is simply *saturated* with energy to a point that she'd probably count as a natural resource if anyone found a way to tap into her ATP reserves. All the glucose she habitually consumes had to go SOMEWHERE, and that was to her constant physical gyrations, vaguely harmonic vocal eruptions that passed as singing, and generally keyed up regular locomotion that at times broke the sound barrier. NOW, when someone does the impossible and manages to retain her attention for the time required to teach her to do anything, she usually does it with exemplary excellence. You see, if she actually *focuses* her energy doing ONE single action... well, you can imagine how favorable results would come of it, given how much energy we're talking about here. She tossed her head to one side, flipping her hair aside in a casual gesture, and blinked prettily. This, of course, was perceived much slower than it actually happened, as was the way with certain highly significant events, allowing every detail of her seemingly simple movement to be digested at liesure, like a fine banquet. Lumi-chan's hair had always been healthily shiny, but never before had it seemed so lustrous or silken, and it glowed crimson in the light. Her head and shoulders seemed to *give* off a light, a paradoxically gentle, yet brilliant white and blue blend permeated with sparklies. Her cheeks were tinted a perfect rose, highlighting the flawlessness of her face-- her large blue eyes gleamed azure, her curved lashes seeming to shed specks of light with every blink. Her mouth was curved in a heartachingly sweet, innocent smile, the small, glossy lips pursed delicately in an expression of cherubic purity. Innumerable sparklies and waves of the aura Lumi-chan was giving off flowed from her in actual physical waves, blasting those nearest off their feet and into the air following various trajectories. Desks were upturned and seats took to the atmosphere. Yashiko and Seki squinted and shielded their eyes with a hand against Lumi-chan's glow. By the door, the man with the red hair and brown suit tilted slightly backwards from the force, and beside him, the school chairman's field flickered slightly from the peculiar ki that encountered it. Within the defensive sphere, the almond-skinned man was slightly agape with awe. The sparklies subsided, and Lumi-chan jumped up and down in front of Yashiko. "WAI! Did Lumi-chan do good? I wasn't able to practice or anything!" "You did very well, Lumi-chan," Yashiko nodded, patting the smaller girl on the back. "Well done. You'll impress ANYONE with that." "YOU taught her how to do THAT?" Seki asked with some disbelief. "It wasn't easy, but I did it," Yashiko said with pride. She glomped onto Seki's arm. "Aren't you proud of me, big brother?" "Hahaha," the stranger by the door laughed calmly. "Quite an interesting class I have for myself here. Well, sir, I'll be--" The school chairman was gone. "Hmm. Strange," the man opined before taking his place behind the teacher's desk to the front of the room. "Please, everyone, be seated. Uhm..." He looked around. "Well, those of you who still HAVE seats." "SENSEII!" someone yelled, raising a hand. "Are YOU our new teacher?" "Why, as a matter of fact, I am," the man answered cheerfully, eliciting a few groans from those of the class who'd wanted to enjoy a little more freedom from homework. He rose to regard the class with a fond grin from behind his thick horn-rimmed glasses. "Good morning, everyone. I am Kaede Shiro, but you may call me Kaede-senseii, or simply Shiro-san. I'll be replacing Kumayama as of the moment-- temporarily if he decides to come back (and if chairman-sama decides to keep him on the payroll), and permanently if he doesn't." *** *** *** Outside, in the hall, the End of the Rug was chuckling to himself in a dark, sinister manner, which could only mean that he had found some prospective noo-... well, we'll leave the rest to your imagination. "She's even lovelier than I first saw," he said to himself mildly in the empty corridor, running a hand loftily through his long white tresses. "And it would seem that the prize worthy of my attentions has a name. Lumi... aaaahhhh... such a sweet, resonant name. Lumi..." He chortled some more, and then in a swift, impossible to see movement, he reached into his regal clothes to pluck out his Hello Kitty! organizer and began to jot something down on it, an anticipative smile on his almost-feminine face. "Lumi-chan... you shall be mine tonight." *** *** *** "Now, I'd normally start off my semester with you with a few reading assignments..." The class groaned as one. "But... I've checked and rechecked the records Kumayama-san left at the faculty, and it would seem that you've completed all the course requirements-- covered topics too advanced for your class, in fact-- and have all done more than enough homework to last you the rest of the semester without having to do anything." A collective cry of victory rose up from the students. There appeared to be dancing and kissing near the back. "... that is, of course, for those who passed," Kaede-senseii pointed out with a tiny sweatdrop. Those who had jumped up with joy froze in place, some of them several feet off the ground. Kaede went on, resuming his sunny demeanor. "But fortunately, those of you who got less than satisfactory marks so far (and there are quite a few) may spend the rest of our time together making reports and otherwise conducting reparatory projects to assist your grades." He said the next words with a big grin on his face. "As for the rest of you, you may spend the rest of our class studying for your next period." After saying that, Kaede-senseii lay his forearms on the table, put his head on them, and then promptly fell asleep, snoring loudly. Some sweatdropped at the new teacher's behaviour, some began hurriedly devising ways to improve their academic standings, but most raised a whoop at the news. Stereos were brought out, and pizza was passed around; it threatened to be the other day all over again. Seki looked around at the proceedings, looking concerned. It was a pleasant development, yes, but he wasn't too overjoyed at the prospect of having even more time on his hands that he wouldn't know what to do with. He sighed. It increasingly seemed that the focal point of his erstwhile new high school life would be combat. "OH, BIG BROTHER SEKI!" Yashiko squealed, jumping onto Seki's lap with a crash. The young Furniture Warrior barely had time to register the padded softness that landed on his thighs before ending up on the floor with the rest of Yashiko straddling him, and shaking him by the collar. "This is so GREAT! We won't have to do any history homework or homeroom or anything!" Lumi-chan was looking around at the celebration and didn't need very much time at all before she was quickly infected by the festive mood, though Kaede-senseii's earlier declaration had flown past her for the most part. "WAAAIII! NO HOMEWORK! WAAAAIIIIII!" she bellowed, merely echoing what most of the others were saying, and, so screeching, began to spin about in glee, long flourescent bulbs held outwards on either side of her. She jumped about and began to spin faster and faster with sugar- assisted acceleration, until she was a white conical top crackling with ki. This would later come to be known as the Twirling Pirouette of Double Flourescent Doom. For the moment, however, Seki knew that it was trouble-- Lumi-chan was spinning across the floor, carving a deep groove on it, and leaving schooldesk carnage in her wake. She was headed straight for the sleeping teacher to the front. "KAEDE-SENSEII!" Seki roared. "LOOK OUT!" Even as the teacher opened his eyes, sleep-induced stupor still heavy on his face (a five o'clock shadow had mysteriously settled on his previously clean-shaven jaw), Seki knew that the man would have no time to dodge the whirling upside down cone of destruction. Seki'd have looked away in advanced horror of what was to come next, but he needed to watch what would follow-- if he saw exactly where and how badly Kaede-senseii got hurt, he'd know how fast to rush him to the hospital. Lumi-chan closed in... ... and Kaede blocked with the teacher's desk, crouching under the kneehole, and holding the table up against the miniature tornado. The Lumi-top drilled against the desk for a bit, making sparks fly at the contact... which was weird, because the teacher's desk was made of wood. Finally, Lumi's spinning attack bounced off Kaede's desk, spun about a few times, and zinged against a wall before plowing into a group of extremely unlucky students, tossing them around like pins at the end of a bowling lane. Seki was blinking at Kaede, flabbergasted. "That was the--" "Desk of Deflection?" Shiro finished for him, finally putting the desk down and then standing up, rubbing at his eyes blearily. He yawned. "Familiar with it, Shizuhara-kun?" "Forgive me if I seem forward," Seki hastily qualified as he stepped over to examine the desk and then the teacher behind it. "But where did you learn that?" "Why, the Big Tibetan Furniture Dojo, of course," he said in answer. The teacher looked at something behind Seki. "Why, I didn't notice it before," the teacher murmured, walking over to Seki's desk area. He pulled the yak-hair tarpaulin off a tall pile nearby before Seki could object. "Is this YOURS?" Kaede asked, raising an eyebrow and running a hand down the Victorian chair's back. "It's VERY well-maintained... you know what they say-- a chair will only get as many nicks and scratches as its owner will let it have." Seki blinked. "It's mahogany, isn't it?" Kaede queried, hunkering down before the chair. "Middle Victorian... a product of the Parisian Rococco revival of 1850. Laminated woodwork. Yes... a VERY good piece indeed..." "You can identify the wood just by looking at it?" Seki asked, eyes widening. "You know its history from merely observing its design? Would you happen to be practiced in the crafting and maintenance of such things as well!?" "Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I am," Kaede said, grinning again, a hand behind his head. "Also, I used to teach just that at the Big Tibetan Furniture Dojo before--" Seki had bowed low before the surprised teacher, arms clipped to his sides, eyes closed humbly. "SENSEII! I wish to be your pupil in the art of woodcraft! Please grant my request!" Kaede looked at him for a few moments and then shrugged. "Ehn. Why not?" *** *** *** School finally let out, and the usual crowds of thankful and tired youths emptied out of the buildings and gravitated towards any number of establishments nearby that catered to their recreational and nutritional needs. Lumi-chan proved an exception to this event in that it was fairly rare for her to be tired in any way. Normally, she'd be no exception to the part about going someplace to eat, but someone had placed herself in front of her on her way out. "Hi, pretty lady with the kinda weird but kinda nice white hair and really dark skin!" Lumi-chan greeted the human obstruction cheerfully. "Ano, would you mind letting Lumi-chan pass so that Lumi-chan can go get some-- WAI!-- ice cream?" In front of her, the tall, attractive dark-skinned figure idly stifled with a hand a faint laugh from escaping his thinnish lips. "Ice cream? That should be simple enough to procure," the man said, smiling seductively. "You are Lumi-chan from Kaede's class, correct?" "HAAAAIIIII!" Lumi-chan affirmed piercingly, causing a few bulbs overhead to crack and flicker. "That's me! Ano... who are YOU?" Sparkles of Coolness materialized around the dark-skinned figure. A wind blew past him, though they were still indoors. He stepped forward and leaned over to look into Lumi-chan's eyes from a mere few inches away. "You must be bored of this school by now," he said softly, eyes languid and easy from behind dangling locks of his immaculate white hair. "Why don't you let me... take you someplace a little more interesting?" He'd been reaching out with one hand, expertly aiming for the sensitive area on Lumi-chan's neck... until the targeted girl squealed loudly and spun on the spot, throwing him off. "WAAAAAH! Are you asking Lumi-chan out on a... 'ro-man-tic date'?" The End of the Rug was taken aback. A date? Why, he hadn't actually been on a *date* date in a while. Well, if she wanted to play the game a little, why not? It wasn't in his usual style, but he liked to think that he could 'date' with the best of them. Also, though quaint, it could prove a rather enjoyable preliminary to what he had in mind for later. He smiled widely, not missing a beat. "Yes, a... romantic... date," he repeated, sampling the words, unused to the taste of them. "We can go wherever you want to, my dear." "WAI!" Lumi-chan shrieked shrilly with delight, inadvertently dodging another attempt by the End of the Rug to touch her. She put a finger to her lips, pouting cutely in some confusion. "Yashiko-oneechan told me something like this would happen, but I thought she said that *boys* would want to go on... rr... rrrr... 'rrrom-antic dates' with me." The End of the Rug laughed outright at this and straightened in his posture, his slender form towering over Lumi-chan, a beatific smile on his face. "Thank you, I *know* that I am lovely," the End of the Rug said with amusement, brushing at his gently flowing cape. "But I assure you, I am a man, and I shall thoroughly enjoy proving just that if you and I were to--" "Okay, pretty lady!" Lumi-chan chirped from below. "Yashiko-oneechan never said that I couldn't go on a 'roman-tic date' with a girl! So what do we do now? WAI!! This is fun!" The End of the Rug's eyebrow twitched, but he let the latest comment pass. This was a little... different from what he'd expected to happen. Perhaps he'd made a mistake? NO. His taste in females was PERFECT. Close by, Lumi-chan began the Twirling Pirouette of Double Flourescent Doom. Well... maybe not all THAT perfect... *** *** *** "Big Brother Seki!" Silence reigned in the Shizuhara household. The incumbent quiet did very little in the way of resisting the invading noise from Yashiko, however, and her shouts reverberated throughout its kingdom, pillaging and plundering as it would the peace and serenity therein. "BIG BROTHER SEKI!" No, there was no Big Brother Seki anywhere, not anywhere within hearing range, at least. It was like he had been abducted by aliens, or something. That must be it! Yashiko gasped to herself in the empty house. Big Brother Seki had been kidnapped by extraterrestrial fangirls from the Planet X! Just like in Issue #35.978 of Desk Girl, Limited Edition, foil cover with free rare collectible trading card (Stool Boy)! It was up to Yashiko alone to rescue her darling brother! "I have to act fast!" Yashiko said to herself weightily as she rushed to the door. "Who knows what kind of impure, perverted things those aliens might be doing to Big Brother Seki's perfect body right now? Why, at this very moment, they might be ripping the very clothes off his rippling chest, sliding their probes across the golden tanned skin of his bulging biceps..." Yashiko'd have gone on imagining even more dastardly experiments, but her attention was sidetracked by a soft tap on her shoulder. She wiped the drool from her lip and turned to behold a small, red-haired girl looking up at her cutely. "Yashiko-oneechan!" she chittered. "Doesn't THAT look like it's from Brother Seki?" She pointed at something in the living room. "Hm?" Yashiko blinked. There was a note on the coffee table. Science as it stands right now cannot sufficiently explain how Yashiko moved fast enough to actually travel back in time a little so as to be able to read the small message five minutes ago. "NANIII!?" Yashiko cried in outrage after reading the note. "What does he MEAN he's gone back to school for woodcraft lessons from Kaede- senseii! Why does EVERYONE have to take my Big Brother Seki away from me these days!? ARGH!" Her hands closed into shaking fists, crumpling the piece of paper in a vice of fingers. A second later, Yashiko recovered the note, straightened it up as best as she could, and then put it aside for the Secret Brother Seki Shrine she had hidden in her room. It would just look PERFECT in between the pocket lint, and his left sock. All she had to do was cut out the part that said, 'Oh, and please, PLEASE be nicer to Vanity' and it would be EXQUISITE. "Wait a minute..." Yashiko said slowly, realizing something. She turned to the small girl who had pointed out the note to her. She was still there, smiling in a very kawaii way at Yashiko. "Who are you? How did you get in? Are you one of Lumi-chan's friends?" At this, the small girl giggled with abandon, further increasing her childlike cuteness. "Yashiko-oneechan's being funny!" she laughed. "I'M Lumi-chan!" Yashiko backpedalled into the wall behind her, eyes bulging. If her mouth had dropped open any further, it'd have left a nasty crater on the floor. "L-LUMI-CHAN!? Is that really you!?" And upon closer inspection, indeed it was-- except that she had foregone both her school clothes and her simple Tibetan monk outfit for a cherry red blouse and a short, hugging cherry red pleated skirt complemented by a black belt with golden buckle. Her legs were bare except for the pair of loose, thick knee-high black socks she wore, and the pretty red leather shoes on her feet. The effect was that Lumi-chan had become quite the hottie... though, the light bulbs still planted on either side of her head sorta threw first impressions off their axis. Yashiko boggled. She knew that she'd told Lumi-chan the other day that she could rummage through her wardrobe in the event of the small girl's actually getting a date, but she hadn't even remembered she'd had that particular set of clothes and was actually feeling a mite jealous that Lumi-chan'd gotten to that cute little number first. WAIT a MINUTE. Backtrack a second. Picture this: high school girl, white long-sleeved blouse, navy blue ribbon below the collar-- NO! TOO FAR BACK! Fastforward a little. Lumi-chan was wearing clothes that could only have come from Yashiko's own closet. Yashiko had earlier given Lumi-chan some dressing tips to 'knock their eyes out' and had allowed Lumi-chan to borrow clothes from her personal collection (which was quite extensive), in case Lumi-chan ever actually got herself a date. Lumi-chan was wearing clothes that could only have come from Yashiko's own closet. Yahsiko facetwitched. "You have a DATE!?" She didn't even know the girl had any form of fashion sense-- it looked like she did pretty well on her own. "WAAAAIIIII!!! Lumi-chan has a date!!!" the energetic Furniture Warrior confirmed loudly, though strangely enough, she stayed in place. Odd. Earlier, she had even stayed almost exactly where she was right after pointing out Seki's note when, by now, at least two or three things should have been broken on principle. "I was gonna go out to get some ice cream after school-- WAI! ICE CREAM!!!-- and then, and then, someone blocked my way on the way out and asked me on a date wai isn't that wai I got a date waiwaiwaiwaiwaiWAIIII!" Yashiko couldn't believe it, but she smiled warmly, in a way happy for Lumi-chan's success. I mean, actually, if she thought about it, this recent development wasn't all THAT surprising, not really. The girl had a good teacher. Yashiko clasped her hands in delight, smelling the prospect of some juicy gossip. She huddled close to Lumi-chan conspiratorially, her fox ears popping up on either side of her head. "So... who was it? Was it... Koshino-kun?" "NOPE!" "Yakumo-kun?" "NOPE!" "It wasn't Nakajima-kun, was it?" Yashiko asked with some apprehension. "NOPE!" Lumi-chan answered, smiling and blissfully forgetful that the name of the man who had stolen her first kiss had just been mentioned. Yashiko made a face. "Hold on... do you even KNOW the name of your new date?" Lumi-chan put a finger to her chin in thought. "Ano... NOPE!" Yashiko crashed onto the floor facefirst, arms held out. "Waiwaiwaiwaiwaiwaaaaaaii--" Lumi-chan skipped, hopped and twirled her way to the door, though not in her usual, warp-speed manner, but still pretty bouncily. Before leaving, she turned to Yashiko, who was picking herself up from the floor. "See ya later, Yashiko-oneechaaaaan!" Lumi-chan called out. "I'm going on my r... rr.. 'romantic' date with the Pretty Lady now! We're gonna have SO much fun together, WAI!" Yashiko took a sharp intake of breath. "Lumi-chan!? What did you just say!? LUMI-CHAN!!" But Lumi-chan's corporeal body was already gone, and only her high- pitched voice floated in from outside the door to Yashiko's ears. "Ano, thanks so much for letting me borrow your stuff, oneechan!" came the farewell. "ARIGATOU GOZAIMASU! Ano... also, Lumi-chan thought that Yashiko-oneechan would be a bigger size than Lumi-chan... but now Lumi-chan can't move around all that much because this weird and kinda stringy (but really soft!) black underwear Lumi-chan borrowed from under Yashiko-oneechan's bed is kinda tight, and rides up REALLY high--" "LUMI-CHAN!" Yashiko yelled out desperately. She's been looking under my *bed*, Yashiko moaned in her thoughts to herself, scrambling to get up and catch up to the girl outside. "LUMI-CHAN! Wait! I have to talk to you about your--" There was a loud boom, signifying that Lumi-chan had broken the sound barrier and was gone. Actually, she had broken a more physical barrier, such as the neighbors' granite and mortar wall, but she was gone all the same. "-- date." *** *** *** "Anou... where is Lumi-chan?" "She's out on a date." "A date," Vanity echoed from the door to Yashiko's room, looking timid with her hands clasped in front of her yellow dress. "That's nice... Anou... and Master Seki?" "Out," Yashiko said irritatedly, barely seeing the pages of the manga she was leafing through angrily, yet carefully enough so that the paper didn't fold or smear. "Something about 'further going down the path of Enlightenment. A chair may be strong, but it is the varnish that gives it soul.' Or something. Mom and dad went out to see a movie. Looks like I'm stuck here with *you* tonight." "Oh," Vanity said meekly, eyes downcast. She looked up humbly at where Yashiko was lying facedown on her bed, shoeless feet swinging back and forth idly. "Anou... when will they be back?" At this point, Yashiko exploded. Vanity shut her eyes tight at the rush of displaced air Yashiko caused when she suddenly materialized in front of the Rosewood Bride. "HOW AM *I* SUPPOSED TO KNOW!?" Yashiko demanded of the slightly wobbling almond-skinned female. "Nobody ever tells ME anything! It's always 'Oh, Yashiko-kun, I'm going to fight this big, brutal guy who's probably going to pound my bones into curry powder now, but I won't tell you why!' or 'Oh, Yashiko-kun, I'm going to share a few platonic moments with the new teacher, but I won't tell you where, or for how long!' or 'Oh, Yashiko-oneechan, I'm going out on a date and am going to have the best time of my life, but won't tell you who with, or when I'm coming back!' or 'Oh, Yashiko, sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but to heal Master Seki, I HAVE TO KISS HIM ON THE MOUTH!!!'" Yashiko had been looming larger and larger and closer and closer to Vanity as she went on with her short monologue, her voice modulating to approximate the simulated people with some degree of accuracy. Unfortunately, her emotional outburst precluded concentration on where she was going. Her stomach pressed against Vanity's when the other girl's back hit the second floor railing. "..." Yashiko thought before Vanity tipped backwards at the slight push and threatened to spill over the edge and onto the living room below. "VANITY!" Yashiko cried, instinct shoving irrational dislike aside and compelling her to grab for the flailing youth's hand. She caught it, preventing the dark-skinned girl from plummeting to the first floor... ... alone. "AAIIIEEEEEEEEEE--!" Yashiko screamed as both she and Vanity tumbled over the railing, flashing nobody with a short glimpse of panties when their skirts billowed about, and then gravity took effect, and the floor started to rise up REALLY, REALLY FAST. *** *** *** The evening was going perfectly. A short walk across the park, gentle chatting about hobbies and interests, a quiet time looking at the moon and the stars in the sky. And then a romantic candlelit dinner in an expensive restaurant, where Lumi-chan was inhaling the sharbat. "Why, Lumi, I never knew you were such an admirer of fine confections," the End of the Rug laughed from across the table, pressing a napkin delicately against his mouth. "I hope you enjoy it. I had it specially ordered from China. It's an ornage rind delicacy that is also partly the ground extract of a million roses." "WAAAAIIII! WAAAIIII! DEITUU! DEEIIITUU! *gobbleswallow*" The End of the Rug laughed again. "Why, YES! I AM enjoying our night out together! You have proven quite the fascinating specimen, my dear Lumi..." "WAAAII! WAAIIII! DEITUU! *gobble*" "You're welcome." *** *** *** Yashiko groaned and sat up, a hand to her throbbing head, hurt pretty much everywhere. No, wait. That wasn't entirely true. Her feet didn't hurt. And, no, it didn't seem as if her hands were either. But her stomach had a strange aching sensation-- no, that was the reheated leftover tofu lasagna they'd had for dinner. Okay, no, not her neck... not her arms... her head didn't even to be throbbing that badly. Or at all. Yashiko looked up to verify that, yes, she was on the first floor, and that, yes, she had taken means other than the stairs to get there, judging from the dissaray the living room implements she had landed on was in. Well, perhaps she and Vanity had simply been luc-- Vanity! Yashiko whirled her upper body to find Vanity sitting on her heels, hands held on her lap beside where Yashiko had lain unconscious. "Yatta, you're alright," Vanity said with relief, a soft smile on her chocolate-complexioned face. "I thought you'd never wake up." "Kami-sama, don't ever SCARE me like that again," Yashiko breathed, rolling her eyes and wiping at her brow with a hand. She gave the other girl a quick scanning look up and down before raising her nose in the other direction haughtily. "Hmph. Looks like we're both alright. I don't know why I didn't just let you fall in the first place." Vanity smiled, eyes closed. "Thank you very much, Master Yashiko, for trying to save me. I... I..." "You what?" Yashiko turned to the younger girl. "Vanity?" Vanity had slumped to the carpet, unconscious. A growing splotch of bright scarlet on the yellow material of her dress shifted into view. "VANITY!" *** *** *** "You stupid, silly girl," Yashiko scolded as she stretched the bandage once more around Vanity's injured arm. A troubled frown creased the older girl's face. "Why didn't you go fix yourself? Why did you just stay near me when you were BLEEDING, for God's sakes?" "Thank you, Master Yashiko," Vanity was saying in a small voice from her seat beside Yashiko on one side of the dining room table. She was blushing profusely at the attention being given her arm. "You really don't have to. I'm fine now-- really." "BAKA! I can't just leave you like this," Yashiko said, thrusting her lower lip forward. "And WHY did you stay beside me?" Vanity reddened further and stared down at the hand on her lap. "I... I had to make sure you'd be alright. You ARE Master Seki's sister... And when we fell, you got hurt even worse than I did, and--" "That's ridiculous!" Yashiko sniffed. "I feel perfectly fine. In fact, just before I woke up, I had the most WONDERFUL dream where Big Brother Se-" She put a hand to her mouth. "I mean... a Mysterious Prince Charming saved me from peril, leaned over, and then gave me a BIG, passionate--" "-- so I had to use my healing ability," Vanity finished. "-- kiss." Yashiko had tightened and braced Vanity's bandages, and was putting the final touches on her first aid when she stopped cold. As in DEAD cold. A stop so cold that the Snow Queen would look like a blast furnace, shit, her stop was COLD. "You healed me," Yashiko monotoned. Vanity nodded vigorously, eyes wide and sincere. "I was frightened-- I didn't know what to do, you weren't moving or anything." "You healed me," Yashiko said again tonelessly. "Also, when you were kinda recovered, you seemed awfully cold sleeping in your uniform skirt like that," Vanity was saying. "So after healing you, I stayed where I was when I fell on top of you and kept you warm for a while. It helps the process along, you see. Master Yashiko?" The Hiroto High girl was swaying side to side, swirly-eyed, and sporting a dazed, disbelieving smile on her face, which was more a grimace than an expression of happiness. She WAS kinda wondering why the Brother Seki of her dreams had been glowing green. *** *** *** Elsewhere, in the more elite area of the city, aptly known as the Elite Area, a brooding figure stalked across the immense front lawn of the vast Nakajima estate. The figure was carrying a bookbag slung over a shoulder with one hand, though the magnificent red and white clothes he had on were more suitable for royalty than study. Intense flashes of yellow-orange and a streak of jet black flitted into sight everytime the silhouette walked out from under the shade of the rustling trees and into the eerie moonlight. By the front door of the towering mansion he was approaching, three figures lie in wait for his arrival. When he strode close enough, the lurking shadows knew that this was their moment... and they pounced. o/~ MASTER KOUTO'S BACK! MASTER KOUTO'S BAAAACK! o/~ Kouto ignored the trio-- triplets, in fact-- who had leapt from the bushes to stand arrayed in a perfectly straight line along the side of Kouto's path, arms diagonally aligned as if in a Broadway show. He made his angsty bishounen way into the house without even looking at them. Kouto tossed his blazer to the side, where it was caught by one of the three who waited outside-- a young woman in a black tuxedo with a red ribbon around the collar who slid into position with perfect timing, not even losing her stageshow form. o/~ I have Master Kouto's glorious school materials! o/~ she intoned musically, holding her pose. Kouto walked further into the mansion halls and carelessly flung his blazer overhead. A blur of black tumbled in a sharp parabola, and a hand shot out from it to catch the blazer in mid-air. A second woman in a black tuxedo landed gracefully on one knee, holding the article of clothing up with one hand. o/~ Master Kouto's infinitely fragrant and redolent vestment has been recovered! o/~ she proclaimed in key. Kouto loosened his shoes as he walked and then kicked them off behind him, one after another. A speedy form streaked along the hallway and stopped in between the hurled footwear. Something gleamed in the faint hall light... and then a third girl in a tight-fitting tuxedo could be seen holding out a plastic monoblock chair in each hand, catching the shoes with the chair legs. o/~ The venerable footwear that has safely housed Master Kouto's esteemed and most meticulously pampered feet... are safe! o/~ Kouto kicked the tall double-doors to his room open, stepped inside, and then slammed it shut. He sauntered over sulkily to his favorite easy chair, the one by the lit fireplace, and sank into it exhaustedly. He rubbed at a temple with a hand, eyes closed, and he turned to a small, cushioned footstool set before his seat. "Vanity, read to me," he muttered in a low voice. He opened his eyes. The stool was empty. He was alone in the room. "DAMMIT, why do I keep DOING that!?" the young man snarled, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "It's been WEEKS! She's gone. Gone with that miserable meddler, Seki." He paused in his ranting to stare fixedly at the stool again. Beside it was a small ornately carved table. On it was a book of poems. "She's gone," Kouto repeated softly to himself. He walked over to the book, picked it up... and then flung it into the fire, where it stirred embers into the air, the fiery specks framing his wrath-contorted face. "SEKI." The door to his room opened, and Kouto turned to see who it was. A man stood casually by the doorway, a lazy smirk and a smouldering cigarette on his lips. He was wearing a beautiful tailor-made of reds and whites. He had lurid yellow-orange hair with an ebon streak down the middle over his forehead. He was a perfect copy of Kouto, save for the attractively seasoned, middle-age angles of his face, and the yellow-orange sideburns that all but met at the man's strong chin. "You wanted to see me, Kouto-kun?" he asked, eyes half-lidded and amused. "Yes," Kouto said in answer, turning to fully face the much taller man. "You have heard of thre recent events. I wish to take action." "Meaning...?" the man prompted patiently. Kouto squared his shoulders and locked eyes with the stranger, face set. "You will train me once again in the Way..." He smiled. "... father." For a moment, Nakajima Akai said nothing. And then he laughed. *** *** *** In the NEXT exciting chapter of FURNITURE WARRIORS INJECTED WITH UTENA AND LOADS OF FANSERVICE AND STUFF... WILL the Bed be explained more next time? ('cuz it sure wasn't here) WILL Seki appear more next time? ('cuz he sure didn't here) WILL the End of the Rug ask Lumi-chan out a second time? (maybe) WILL Yashiko discover tender, fuzzy-wuzzy feelings for Vanity? (ohohoh) WILL the next episode feature fanservice levels as high as those found in *this* one? (prolly not) FIND OUT NEXT TIME in Chapter Eight: Divan Intervention! ~*~*~*~*~*~ AUTHOR'S NOTES Hoo-whee. What can I say? I DID warn you. Aaaanyway... I know nothing of Utena. Shoo. =p I decided not to jump immediately to the Seki-Ijima fight for the reason that several points the appearance of the Bed brings to light needed a little ironing out first. That, and some of the characters themselves needed a little fleshing out as well. So, naturally, like the dodger that I am, I picked the fleshing out. Hehehe. Flesh. For one thing, David was right-- the Student Council members ought to be a little more than Sekifodder, seeing as they constitute a vital gear in the machinations of the End of the Rug. For another thing, I severely disliked how Vanity-chan was relegated to the sidelines after the first chapter. I like her. She's cute. :3 Anyway, I love the way the End of the Rug was offered to me with a few unorthodox twists. The Big Villain Boss of an anime story dating one of the protagonists? Precious! This part is about chemistry, and by God, I tried to deliver. Introducing Kaede Shiro to the cast was an easy decision-- SOMEONE had to replace Kumayama as their homeroom and history teacher, so why not make it someone who could double as Seki's teacher-away-from-home, so to speak? I'm afraid I was a little vague as to Kaede's characterization, but future authors would do well to think of Seta- san from Love Hina when writing him, personality-wise. =p The End of the Rug, by all appearances, seems to be deeply infatuated with the slowly transforming Lumi-chan. I see his relationship with the girl as a kind of blind love... REALLY blind love, judging from their "conversation" over dinner. It doesn't help that Lumi-chan thinks he's a Pretty Lady. XD Yashiko can't go on hating Vanity forever. I mean, sure, it's worth a little comedy now, but annoying it will get fast. Wow. I'm talking like Yoda. Seven hours straight writing will do that to you, I suppose. Like I was saying, I set the stage for Yashiko to sort of 'owe' Vanity one, and at the same time concocted a little... history between them in the making. I'd have written in how she starts to become 'confused' when she starts to grudgingly like Vanity and then go all blushey-blushey when they touch by mistake, but I couldn't quite work up the Writey-Writey Juice. WHAAAAT? Why are you LOOKING at me that way? The dial IS turned up to thirteen. And thirteen's, like... bigger than twelve. =p Also, really, pay the triplets introduced towards the end no serious heed. They're simply decorative in purpose and were meant to serve as props for Kouto, not necessarily requiring personalities or any kind of elaboration later... or even names, for that matter. Now Kouto's father... AH. Now that's another matter entirely. ;) Finally, the little matter between Kouto and the nature of his relationship with Vanity. It is highly unlikely that he had her slave about the house for him. Kouto gives her gifts, so though he punishes her cruelly at times, it doesn't mean that she suffers ALL the time with him. It simply means that maybe, just maybe, Kouto doesn't know how to treat those close to him very properly. Ah, but the thing is, he's grown dependent on Vanity's mere presence. In fact, he might have grown a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiddle bit attached to her over time but won't admit it, or is just realizing it now that she's gone... or both. Everything's different without her. Life has become a little... empty. Does anyone see where I'm going with this? Ahhh... I love the smell of blatantly melodramatic shoujo storylines in the morning. ;) This fic was a challenge to write for, but I did it, and it was fun, goddamit, and I don't think I did TOO shabby a job of it. I hope you enjoyed this. Thanks for the help, Brian! You were the bizomb! ^__^ Laderz all. And Godspeed. ^_^ Done: 3/7/3 OH! And... for the Joke That I Couldn't Work In, So I'm Putting It In As An Epilogue Kinda Thing!!! *** *** *** "So... how's your somewhat obsessive little brother who has a thing for yellow and likes kittens?" "He's fine." Silence. "So," Kotaro began again. "I've been meaning to ask you something." "What is it?" Ijima said, looking up from the script she was perusing. "Whatcha want with the prize anyway?" Ijima paused. She smiled impishly behind her glasses. "Well, I've always found Vanity-chan rather cute..." "..."