Clothes make the Man
There are many hazards and trials of growing up, particularly if you're a Sohma. A seventeen-year-old Momiji comes to know one of the worst: fangirls.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. In the case of just about all the Sohma males, that's a crying shame.
"Ha'ri!" The despairing wail could be heard throughout the Sohma compound. Sohma Hatori walked into his young charge's room. Sohma Momiji was supposed to be getting ready for his first day of his third and final year in high school. Apparently something had gone wrong.
When Hatori stepped into Momiji's room, he saw the blonde half-German half-Japanese boy sitting on the floor in his pajamas. Large tears slid down his cheeks and he looked up at the doctor. He held his uniform in one hand. Ever since his first year in high school, Momiji had opted to wear the girls' uniform, slightly modified with a pair of puffy shorts in lieu of a skirt. There was a wide tear across the shoulders of the uniform in Momiji's hand.
"Ha'ri!" he sobbed. "I got fat! My uniform won't fit anymore! None of them will!" As Momiji continued to wail, Hatori sighed. He really shouldn't be craving a cigarette at seven forty-five in the morning, especially when he promised Aya he was going to cut back, but still...
"Momiji-kun," he said, kneeling so he was on level with the little blonde rabbit. "It's okay. You're not getting fat." Quite the opposite, in fact: by the end of the summer, Momiji had lost most of his baby roundness. He looked a lot like his older cousin, Yuki, actually, very slender and graceful. Well, when he wanted to be. Momiji hadn't lost his bouncy, childish personality, so while he was well liked by all, there was no "Prince Momiji Fan Club."
"But if I'm not getting fat, then why don't I fit in my uniform anymore?" Momiji demanded. Hatori fought a mad urge to laugh. When he had erased the memories of his mother and agreed to take care of this boy, cursed by the Jyunishi spirit of the Rabbit, he had no idea he was opening himself up for explanations like this.
"Because, Momiji-kun," Hatori said gently, taking the torn uniform from him. "You're not a girl. When you were younger, you could wear what you wanted, but now you're growing up. You can't dress up like a girl anymore. Your body is shaped differently." That should settle that, the dragon thought.
"But," Momiji sniffled, rubbing his eyes, "Ayame-kun wears dresses almost every day, and he's your age, Ha'ri." Hatori closed his eyes and very slowly counted to ten. Leave it to the snake to get him into a mess like this, even if it was unknowingly.
"Aya-kun is a different story entirely, Momiji-kun. If you don't get dressed now, you're going to be late." The rabbit's lower lip trembled dangerously.
"What do I wear, Ha'ri?" he asked sadly, looking forlorn and lost in his pajamas. Hatori told him to wait, and left the room for a few moments. He returned with a black garment bag. Hatori thanked the stars that he had the foresight to get this in case something like this happened.
"Come get me when you're done, Momiji, I'll be downstairs," Hatori left the room to give his ward some privacy. He made straight for the desk in his room and opened a drawer. He reached in to the very back and shifted the objects around until his fingers closed on what he was looking for. Promise or no promise, after this morning, Hatori really needed a cigarette.
By the time Hatori was done smoking, Momiji shuffled awkwardly into the room, self-consciously tugging the tie on his uniform. It was tied crooked.
"Do I look okay?" he asked. Hatori gave him an uncharacteristic smile and straightened the rabbit's tie.
"You look great. Now let's go."
Usually, it was hard for Hatori to get Momiji to be quiet for more than five minutes, particularly during the car ride to school. Momiji was normally bubbling with all his plans for the day, who he was going to see, and how happy he was. Given it was the first day of a new semester, Momiji would normally be a blur of excited energy. Instead he sat very quietly in the front seat, looking moodily out the window at the brilliant sunshine.
As Hatori dropped Momiji off at the front gates, he thought, it's official: the Sohma clan has unearthed another bishonen. Aya will be so proud.
Despite Hatori's admonition that Momiji would be late if he didn't dress quickly, it was still early. Mami Tendo sat on the stone steps in front of the school, catching up with her two best friends on what they did over the break.
"Good morning, Mami-chan!" a tall, lanky, gorgeous boy with wispy blonde hair and dark brown eyes waved at her across the quad, then started to walk towards her.
"Mami-chan, who is that?" one of her friends hissed, poking her sharply in the ribs. "He is so hot!"
"I-I don't know," Mami stuttered. He'd called her "Mami-chan," so he must've known her, and the button on his lapel indicated that he was a third-year, like her, but she would've remembered someone so handsome.
"Hi Mami-chan! Did you have a good break?" Mami was going crazy trying to figure out who it was when she saw he held a large purple lollypop in one hand. The only other high schooler she knew who did that was...
"M-Momiji-kun?" Mami asked in disbelief. Momiji, confused, nodded and smiled while Mami's two friends gasped in recognition. The three of them had had History with him last year. That Momiji was a ball of hyperactive energy, all fluff and baby fat. That Momiji also wore the girls' uniform with a big floppy hat. This Momiji was tall and slender, not an ounce of fat, baby or otherwise, to be found. He looked like a god in his uniform.
"Yup! It's me!"
"HARU!" The yell echoed down the hall, and Sohma Hatsharu sighed heavily. Momiji, his cousin and year mate, probably needed another hiding place for a rousing game of Cops and Robbers. Seventeen years old and he acted like someone half his age most of the time. Momiji rounded the corner, slipped and almost fell, then bounded down the hall and dove behind Hatsharu.
"You're wearing the boys' uniform," Hatsharu observed. "It looks good on you."
"Thanks," Momiji panted, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. "Haru-kun, can you hide me really quick?"
"Cops and Robbers again? Aren't you a little old—"
"Not Cops and Robbers," Momiji said. "There's a hoard of screaming fangirls after me. If you can't hide me from them, could you possibly turn Black and make them all go away? They're scary!" If Hatsharu realized the reason his cousin was being hunted, he gave no indication. He merely tossed Momiji, unceremoniously and a little roughly, into the nearest supply closet and banged the door shut as the group Momiji described rounded the corner after him.
The leader, a girl from their class that Hatsuharu vaguely recognized, stopped in front of him.
"S-sohma-kun," she said, intimidated by him yet still fixed on her goal.
"Oh, of course. He ran that way, as if chased by all manner of unmentionable demons from another dimension," the ox said blithely. For a moment the girls glared at him suspiciously, not quite sure if they were being made fun of. But before they could reach a decision, they took off in the direction he indicated, yelling, "Momiji-kun! Come back!"
"It's safe to come out now," Hatsuharu said after watching their retreating forms for a moment. Momiji cautiously snuck out of the supply closet and consented to let Hatsuharu brush the chalk dust off him.
"Thanks for hiding me," he said. "They were scary! But that thing you said about demons wasn't very nice, Haru."
"Would you rather I say like a hare chased by hounds?" his companion quipped. Momiji first grinned, then broke out into a fit of giggles at the pun that would only make sense to the members of the Sohma family and Tohru Honda. After a moment he sobered.
"Class is going to be crazy today, isn't it?" the blonde asked with a resigned sort of sigh. Hatsuharu flung a companionable arm about the other boy's shoulders.
"Probably. Guess we'll have to take you over to Sensei's house so Yuki can teach you how to stay alive with a fanclub."
Owari!
