Mustache or Me?
So this is the first in a long line of short drabbles about the Ouran characters. This one involves Ranka and Kotoko Fujioka.
He stared dismally into the mirror, the faint buzzing of the razor audible as it vibrated in his trembling hand. How could it have come to this? How could he commit this heinous crime without even a word of protest. Sighing heavily, he raised the electronical executioner to the accused and made a cut. Cringing he felt the steel blade on his upper lip.
He was tempted to stop and put the razor down, but then he remembered the excruciating pain of being avoided when he wanted a kiss from his wife. How every time there was a mood, it was destroyed by the turning of her head in aversion to the "hideous" monstrosity that resided on his upper lip. "Be a man," he thought to himself as he hurriedly removed the remaining hair.
Cracking open an eye to look in the mirror, he found himself looking at a completely new person. He inspected his face and realized, to his amusement, that he shockingly resembled a woman! If anything ever happened to Kotoko he'd have a way to make money, at least. He pushed this thought to the side and grabbed the aftershave, a product he was unsure of how to use. The man at the check-out counter had told him horror stories, but how bad could it really be?
Besides, she had said, " Its the mustache or me." and what option did that leave a man?
I had fun writing that and I hope you have fun reading it!