Zuruzuru Change


It had been years since Natsume Misaki had been to Hong Kong and had sampled from every restaurant and food cart she and her mother could find. This time however, she would not have to compete/share all that delightful food that could only be found there, this time she was traveling on her own. She'd purchased her own ticket, sat by herself in first class, and addressed the Chinese officials with hardly any accent at all; as Jan would have put it, she was feeling hyouin fuwafuwa, light on her feet and happy as she could be.

Then, as she'd exited her third restaurant in as many hours, she heard a voice. "Natsume?" Not quite as high as before, a little less nasal, but still possessed of that fundamental Jan quality. "You look really bishibashi, not ibouibou at all." Natsume felt the hairs on her head stand on end; how could Jan possibly think to even mention that incident with the Sogenshi? She turned, intent on showing him just what sort of bishibashi she'd become through years of devotion to her Beast Fist style, the Black Leopard Fist, and upon seeing him she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Jan?" Natsume's eyes were stuck wide open, taking in the man who stood before her. "What happened to you?" His gait, his posture, the cut of his hair, everything about him had changed with only trace amounts of the Tiger Boy Jan she'd once known, had once used to play house on while teaching him an important lesson on patience like Master Shafu had asked her to.

"Huh?" Jan looked at her confusedly as he moved in closer, his eyes the one part of him that hadn't changed in the slightest. "What do you mean Natsume? I'm just as wakiwaki as ever." Okay, there was also his big goofy smile; that hadn't changed either.

"I can see that." Natsume said as she turned away, hoping that Jan had, somehow, failed to catch on to how hot her face had become. "This is so zuruzuru." She muttered under her breath, using Jan's word for an unfair advantage in battle.