A/N: Hey! So this is my first partner project fanfic. I'm writing it with my best friend, who on here is known as Haruhi Fujioka 11. We decided to write this fic because at first we just decided to explore the life of our favourite Mabudachi Trio in their high school years. But then we also wanted to do a crossover. So here it is. I don't think anyone else has taken this perspective on an Ouran Highschool Host Club/Fruits Basket crossover...UNIQUE! Right Bro?
Bro: Yeah! (Imma girl by the way.) It's a little AU, so the Mabudachi Trio is in high school but the host club is still the same (takes place in the early 90's - damn right, we did our research!) So you will soon embark on this (non-copyright) journey. We hope you like it (and you'd better because I know where you live and I have access to a white van with no windows and a crowbar...) Right Ada?
Ada: ...Heh...yeah. *nervous laugh* Anyways, please remember to review! (Or else she'll blame it on me...:'/)
Bro: Ok we'll have Hunni say a few words.
Hunni: Bro-chan and Ada don't own Fruits Basket or Ouran Highschool Host Club sadly :( Hey Bro-chan where's the cake you promised me if I did this?
Bro: Here you go Hunni-chan!
Ada: Crap...I'm never ready with a cake for Hunni-sempai. :(
Hunni: *dark side* Yeah, that's why I don't like you.
Ada: D':
Bro: Aha... let's move on before things get ugly...
Chapter One
"YUUUUKI!"
All seated at Shigure's dinner table besides its rightful owner jolted up from their seats as that deep, slightly feminine voice startled them from their otherwise peaceful meal. Shigure Sohma, on the other hand, clapped his hands in delight.
"Ah! That sounds like-" The dark-haired man was interrupted by a wail of pain emitting from his own lips. Yuki, the boy in calling, had fiercely yet calmly stabbed his guardian with a fork in his hand.
"You dare speak of that noisy person and I'll kill you," he threatened, his tone steady and cool. Shigure nodded, giggling nervously as he clutched his injured hand.
"Yuki, my dear brother!" the voice called again. It sounded muffled due to its originating outside the front door. "Open up and embrace the brotherly love that burns deep within my inner soul, gasping for the warmth that comes with being in your very presence!"
"Then you shall feel cold tonight, for I am not letting you get anywhere near me," Yuki muttered.
"Ah, but...Yuki-kun," Tohru, the house's resident and much appreciated caretaker spoke up from her spot at the end of the table. "It's starting to rain. We can't let him freeze..."
"Of course we can," Kyo growled from his seat across Yuki. However, there were no enforced objections as the kindly brunette made her way to the entrance.
"Hello, Ayame-san!" she greeted cheerfully as soon as she slid open the door. "Please come in, you must be cold."
"Tohru-chan, you truly are an angel, a small light of prosperous hope in this house of grieving men." The silver-haired snake bent down to plant a grateful kiss on one of her knuckles. She instantly began stammering incoherently, flushing a crimson red.
"I...I...gaaah!" she stuttered, shaking her head. "It's n-nothing!"
"And modest, too!" Ayame sighed woefully. He cast a hand over his eyes in pity. Eventually he came down from his cloud with a grin. "So, what ever is for dinner, my sweet maiden? I smell something absolutely delectable!"
"Nii-san," growled a smooth voice from behind a continually stuttering Tohru. "Don't expect you can drop in and be forgiven for becoming a burden wherever you go."
In spite of his brother's chilling words, Ayame expressed his glee full force at the sight of him.
"Yuki, so you are here after all!" he exclaimed. He eagerly captured the boy in a tight embrace. "I was so fraught with worry that you were wandering out in the rain somewhere and silently pleading for the treasured guidance of your beloved older brother!"
"Let go of me, you babbling fool!" Yuki spat, squirming out of his folded arms. "That scenario sounds like a preferred method of escape."
"Oh Yuki, your humor is boundless!"
"How are you so certain this is a joke...?"
"Aaya!" called a voice emerging from the dining room. Ayame's jaw gaped.
"Gure-san...you came running when you heard my voice after all this time..." he murmured. The snake slowly lifted his gaze to peek shyly at his friend through silver bangs.
"I couldn't possibly bear to be parted from you much longer...hearing you as I sat in my kitchen alone...Aaya."
"You weren't alone," grumbled Yuki. Ayame gasped.
"Is what my brother telling me true? Were you secretly sharing your affections with another?"
"Aaya, don't make such accusations so rashly. There is no other man that quite compares to you."
The atmosphere surrounding them glimmered with what would seem like love to any bystanders, including an immensely puzzled Tohru. Then the two carefree adults raised a thumb on each hand.
"ALL RIGHT!" they shouted. Kyo and Yuki sweatdropped.
"Just how long have you been doing this routine...?" Yuki asked, not really desiring nor expecting a reply.
Soon Ayame was settled into a chair beside his favourite and only brother. Tohru placed a steaming mug of tea on the table before him.
"Thank you, my princess," Ayame told her. Around this time, Shigure strolled in from the kitchen.
"I called Hatori about my hand," he said with mock pain. "He said he'll be arriving shortly."
"Oh, good!" Ayame exclaimed. "A Mabudachi Trio reunion!"
"Don't you see each other almost every day...?" Kyo grumbled in annoyance.
"Yes, but this is different, Kyon-kichi," Ayame replied flippantly, tossing his hair to the side. Kyo trembled with anger.
"Don't call me that!" he growled.
"How so, Nii-san?" Yuki spoke up. Ayame grinned.
"This time I have arrived with a purpose," he declared. "You see, Yuki, now that you have become president of the student council at your high school, I have taken it upon myself to explain to you in detail what it means to lead an entire school."
"I'm not taking anyone to a shady red light district," Yuki stated.
"While I must admit you are missing out greatly, that is not what I intend to discuss. Tori-san, Gure-san and I have had many wonderful memories of our time in high school. I believe that each of us can provide valuable insight on the trials and tribulations you might encounter. Which is why I brought pictures-"
"I'm not taking anyone to a shady red light district," Yuki repeated.
"Again, you are missing out, and again, that is not what I intend to discuss," Ayame insisted.
"You have pictures?" Tohru interjected curiously.
"Yes. From our first day to our last." The snake beamed.
"Oh brother..." Kyo muttered.
"You have pictures from the day we got kicked out of our first school?" Shigure asked excitedly.
"You got expelled?" Tohru exclaimed, eyes widened in shock.
"Yes, something or other about 'indecent exposure'," Ayame scoffed.
"I don't understand your surprise, Honda-san," Yuki put in lightly.
"Even Hatori-san?" Tohru asked. Shigure nodded, grinning.
"This, as you've seen before, is our first day at a private boys' school," Ayame announced, flipping open a large photo album from nowhere. The familiar photo captured the three of them in distinguished black uniform jackets, Ayame wearing only the white undershirt. They each displayed a slightly differing personality in their adolescence than they are known for today.
"This is how we got expelled," Shigure added, skipping past several pages to a picture of them in red speedos and santa hats/beards, frolicking about in the snow. "Around Christmas time."
"How did you get Hatori to agree to that?" Yuki asked incredulously. The photo depicted the young doctor with a crazed, abnormal expression amidst the laughing faces of his companions.
Ayame and Shigure exchanged glances. They only offered a pair of ominous smirks as a response.
"And this-!" Ayame exclaimed excitedly, his fingers on the corner of the page. But just at that moment, a strong whistling wind raced into the house through the front door. Ayame dropped the book and hurried alongside Shigure to greet the stoic dragon at the entrance.
"You called?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the two. On his shoulders sat the wriggling, Boy-Lolita figure of Momiji, and standing next to them was two-tone-headed Hatsuharu.
Before his friends could ask, the doctor explained. "Momiji wanted to come visit Tohru and Haru decided he'd tag along."
"Ah, Momiji!" Tohru exclaimed happily.
"TOHRU!" the blonde boy yelled in excitement, hopping down off of Hatori. He almost hugged her before Shigure held him back with a nervous chuckle.
"Now Momitchi-kun, regardless of the fact that she already knows our secret, there's no need to throw ourselves at her."
"Yeah, no need," Kyo said irritably. Momiji pouted.
"Okay," he said; dejected.
"Nice to see you again, Hatsuharu-san," Tohru said to the ox.
"Likewise, Honda-san," he replied in his naturally monotonous voice.
"So what did you call me for?" Hatori cut in.
"Yuki was being cold as usual and in his fury lashed out at my poor hand," Shigure whined. Yuki glared at him.
"Quit complaining and let me have a look at it," Hatori said calmly. He grabbed Shigure's hand to inspect it, the dog letting out a yelp. "It's bleeding a little, and the rest is mostly just bruised. It only needs to be disinfected, which you could have done yourself." He regarded Shigure with a pointed look.
"Heh..." Shigure said sheepishly. Hatori harshly dabbed at his hand with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. "Haa-san, you're so insensitive!"
"Regardless, Tori-san," Ayame said carelessly. "We're relating our marvelous high school days to these young learners."
"That old story again?" Hatori mused, his tone grim. "Right up to that ending?"
"Every Sohma clan tale has a less-than-happy ending," Shigure replied, equally as grim. "At least ours had a longer run of happiness."
"Agreed," Ayame said curtly, eager to skip to the good parts. "Now without further ado, our first day at..." He snapped his fingers as if to cue something that had been rehearsed.
"Ouran Academy!" they said in unison (though Hatori sounded the least enthusiastic).
"See? Gather around, children. We re-shot our old first day picture as soon as we stepped into the school," Shigure said, gesturing to another photo. Everyone else gathered around in chairs with varying levels of curiosity, Tohru's being the highest.
"What the hell kinda uniforms are those?" Kyo demanded. He jerked an accusatory finger at the picture of the trio in periwinkle jackets over pristine white dress shirts. Their ties were a dark purple/blue colour, and a pretentious emblem was also embroidered into the fabric over their chests.
"Ouran Academy is one of if not the most prestigious school from then to now," Ayame explained haughtily. "Admittance into the school required the utmost pedigree and profit, and if not that then you had to be the top of your class to obtain a scholarship. Luckily we easily blended into the former category."
"Although we did know someone who got accepted via scholarship," Shigure remarked. They could only assume that he was feeling melancholic, for his casual tone and expression betrayed nothing.
As Tohru skimmed through the pages, a loose photograph drifted down to land right-side-down at her feet. She gingerly peeled it off the floor to hold it up for all to see, and her breath hitched in her throat.
"Who are these people in the photo with you? They're all so handsome; are they members of the 'outside' Sohma family?"
"No, actually." It was Hatori who spoke up. "They were the other members of that degrading club we were forced to join on our first day. What was it called again?"
"Ah! The Host Club?" Ayame cheered. "Tori-san, don't be so harsh. They were a lovely group of people."
"The Host Club?" Yuki asked skeptically. "Shouldn't that be illegal?"
"Oh, the Host Club was a harmless group of adolescent men who spent their after-school hours courting beautiful young ladies." Shigure sighed in content.
"No wonder you're a pervert," Kyo muttered.
"What were their names?" Tohru queried, gazing down at the picture of all the members in their school uniforms.
"The club president, or the 'King'-" Shigure began.
"Or 'Daddy' as he sometimes liked to be called," Hatori added with a shake of his head.
"-he's the tall blonde one in the middle. His name was Tamaki Suoh," Shigure finished.
"The one with blue eyes?" Tohru clarified.
"Yes. He's a halfblood," Ayame added. "Like Miji-san! Only Maki-san is half French."
"Kyoya Ootori was our vice president, the one with glasses next to Tamaki," Hatori said. "Tamaki liked to consider the Host Club as a family. He was the 'father', Kyoya was the 'mother'-"
"Hikaru and Kaoru Hitachiin were the brothers - those redheaded twins you see there," Shigure put in, his eyes dancing with amusement.
"Haruhi Fujioka was the 'little sister'," Ayame said. "She was the short-haired, brunette commoner scholarship student Gure-san mentioned. The one with big brown eyes. She had such a kind heart, although you couldn't tell with her innocent but malicious remarks. She was like an apathetic version Tohru."
"Why was there a girl host in a club that courted women?" Yuki demanded with a note of bewilderment.
"It's a long story that will be explained to you shortly," Shigure promised. "Anyways, Mitsukuni Haninozuka and Takashi Morinozuka were the 'neighbors'. They're the small blonde one on the shoulders of the tall dark one - respectively."
"Mitsukuni-san looks just like Momiji-kun!" Tohru exclaimed brightly. Momiji's eyes widened.
"He does kinda look like me," he agreed.
"And we were the cousins!" Ayame declared gleefully.
"...who dropped in unexpectedly," Hatori added.
"Ah, the fun we had with everyone." Shigure's gaze seemed ensconced in a far-off land, brimming with memories of the past.
"I still remember our first day..." Ayame breathed. "It was a cold, blustery day in early January..."
...
The pale winter morning sun cast a bleak shadow over the backs of three approaching figures to the school that day. Ouran Academy's halls were buzzing with drifting conversations of giddy girls and animated discussions among small groups of teenaged boys. But as the entrance doors swayed outwardly to let in those three new faces, the hallway immediately grew hushed.
"See, Tori-san? Gure-san?" the first of the figures announced brightly. "The carefully sculpted statues, the priceless paintings, the grandiose palace layout - this is how every high school should be designed! They ought to take a lesson from Ouran's dedication to fine luxuries. Our old school could never possibly compare to such lavishness."
The boy tossed his length of silver hair flawlessly over one shoulder, twisting it neatly with his lean fingers. His locks did not reach farther than an inch past his shoulders, but by regular Ouran standards, it was certainly considered long for a male student. His frivolous golden gaze swept over the room without lingering on any particular spot, more of an act of vanity rather than scoping out his surroundings. Several girls let out high-pitched squeals of delight.
"Kyaaa~! Look at his eyes!"
"They're almost the exact same colour as Hikaru's and Kaoru's!"
"They're like gems!"
"I'm more impressed by our reception," the brown-eyed boy on the far side of the first remarked. His shaggy black bangs hung just above his mysterious dark orbs, earning his appearance a sly edge. He eyed one of the few girls who hadn't been marveling at his companion, rewarded with a squeak as he chuckled.
"You're both completely full of it," said at last the boy in the middle. He had a clearly no-nonsense expression aided by his simple dark brown hairstyle and his cold, murky green eyes.
"Lighten up, Haa-san," whined the black-haired boy on his left.
"You should be thankful that we were transferred to such a prestigious school," the snake-eyed boy on his right agreed.
"We weren't transferred. We got expelled from our other school and this was the only place that would accept us as long as we paid for it."
"I like to think that they were willing to nurture our distinct personalities," the silver-haired boy sniffed.
"You can float through the rest of your life believing what you'd like to think all you want, Ayame," the boy titled as 'Haa-san' and 'Tori-san' simultaneously replied. "Who am I to suggest to you otherwise..."
"It wouldn't do you any good anyways," 'Gure-san' mused.
"Hush now. I want to get us a picture together," Ayame insisted. He turned his indifferent eyes on a pair of giggling girls, approaching them gallantly. "Excuse me."
The girls froze.
"Would you mind taking a picture of us three together?"
The pair flushed, spurting out a number of flustered phrases that included the words "kyaa!" and "of course!" Ayame flashed them a seductive yet detached grin, sending them spinning in another bout of "kyaa"s.
The fair-haired boy caught his stoic companion around the shoulders, their other friend crouching next to him and raising several fingers in an odd 'peace' sign. Both girls got a hold of the camera handed to them and shakily snapped the shot.
"H-here you go," they stammered, returning the device to Ayame. His smile was brief and unsympathetic. He didn't offer much else of a reply as he started back off with his friends down the hall.
"You couldn't have at least said 'thank you'?" Hatori scolded, a sour expression crinkling his otherwise stone face. Ayame glanced at him curiously out of the corner of his eye.
"For what?" he asked, genuinely dumbfounded. Hatori sighed. There was no explanation given. Due to that, Ayame sniffed disdainfully and continued in his pompous stride to their first class.
"What do we have now, Gure-san?" Ayame asked. He was far from prepared to admit that he had been walking so confidently without a purpose.
The nicknamed boy with shaggy hair, still not presented with his actual identity to any close observers glanced down at the schedule in his hands.
"Literature," he replied calmly, his eyes sparkling. Ayame grinned.
"A grand subject, one that coaxes the mind to develop creative ideas into thoughtfully plotted webs of action and reaction. Undoubtedly one of my favourites. Don't you agree, Shigure?"
So that was the boy's name. He offered his dramatically expressive friend a simple nod. It was no doubt one of his favourites as well.
"Really?" Hatori mused. "I would have thought the dramatic arts were more your area of likeness."
"You cannot have drama without strong literature as its form," Ayame protested. Eventually the trio arrived at their inevitable destination: a tall mahogany door with a black plaque scrawled 'Literature' in boldface type-print. Ayame reached for the intricate door handle and, turning the knob, gestured towards the room to his two companions. "Alas, we are here, my loyal compatriots!"
They were greeted by a wall of wondering silence. All heads in the classroom were raised curiously in their general direction.
Ayame folded his arms over his chest. "Hmmph. We don't even deserve the honor of an introduction, courtesy of our sensei? A fine school this is."
"Ah, of course," a dainty, middle-aged woman at the head of the room replied. She took several delicate steps towards them, gazing up at the three. "Class, these are our new students: Ayame Sohma, Hatori Sohma, and Shigure Sohma. Please regard them kindly."
"That's slightly more acceptable," Ayame scoffed.
"What were you expecting her to do? Roll out the red carpet?" Hatori muttered.
"What else?" Ayame replied with far too much innocence than his arrogance should have allowed. The three of them proceeded to taking their seats near the center row of the room. Shigure sat next to Ayame while Hatori remained behind them.
Our stoic individual found himself seated in front of a boy with moderately short brown hair and large brown eyes. On either side of the boy sat a pair of auburn-headed twins, equally sharing a devilish smirk. They regarded the poor new student with what he could only assume to be what Shigure referred to as the 'evil eye'. Hatori did a double-take at the eerie display before slowly returning his eyes to the front.
The teacher resuming her lesson was enough of a distraction for the serious boy to tune out the snickering from behind.
"Did you see the serious look on that guy?" one of the twins sniggered.
"He was actually appalled!"
"What a nut!"
"He was worse than Tono!" they exclaimed in unison.
"Do you guys realize how serious an accusation that is...?" the boy between them interjected in a flat voice.
"He looks so girlish and dainty," the twin on his right criticized.
"Look at him over there, twirling his hair like a lovesick schoolgirl," the twin on the left agreed. Sure enough, their fellow student was thoughtfully spinning a lock of silver hair around his index finger.
"Is there a problem with a guy looking like a girl?" their friend accused. He didn't quite seem to be referring to himself, however, though his face was round and feminine.
"Of course not, Haruhi," the twins chorused, cuddling the smaller boy in their arms. "Waah! You're so cute when you're all defensive!"
"Let me go!" Haruhi hissed. Apparently he had a typical girl's name as well. The boy quickly squirmed out of their grasp. "Now can you please shut up? We're in the middle of class." The pair shrugged, pretending to tune back into the lesson. Unbeknownst to their friend, they shared a knowing smirk over his head that indicated malicious intent.
One twin feigned a yawn, stretching his arm casually to hover over the shoulders of the brunette student, plopping a scrap of crumpled paper in his brother's lap. Haruhi glared suspiciously at him, still tense even after the twin gave him an indifferent smile. Something didn't quite sit right.
The twin on the receiving end of the note chuckled inaudibly, sounding like a handful of short breaths. Their friend usually caught in the middle of their tricks was definitely sure that something was up.
Several rows ahead, Ayame listened to the lesson with little intrigue. He was constantly murmuring about flaws in their sensei's teaching techniques to Shigure. But in the midst of his whispered rant he felt a sharp, wet pellet smack into the back of his neck.
"Ouch!" he hissed. Instinctively he rubbed the mildly sore area and was immediately disgusted. "Saliva! What kind of barbaric...?" He trailed off, glancing around behind him for the perpetrator.
"Someone hit you with a spit ball?" Shigure asked, staring at his silver-haired colleague in amusement. He noticed that his friend's snake-like eyes suddenly narrowed at his target, much like said animal when stalking prey. The dark-eyed boy glanced over his shoulder as well. He soon recognized their enemy.
Reeking of mock innocence were a pair of ginger twins. The both of them pretended to absentmindedly whistle and twiddle their thumbs, their flawless synchronization impressive. However if they had truly been innocent, they would have been paying attention to the lesson like Hatori and the boy wedged between them.
"What's your plan, Aaya?" Shigure asked as they turned back around. He vaguely heard whimpers of suppressed laughter from behind.
"Let's just say that four can play at this childish game." Ayame's golden eyes gleamed with mischief.
While the twins fidgeted to prevent themselves from howling in amusement, Ayame neatly rolled a thin sheet of paper from his notebook. Shigure copied his motion.
"Ready..." Ayame whispered. They had turned back to face the teary-eyed twins, lifting their 'weapons'.
"Aim..." Shigure whispered back. They both kept one eye open as they stared at their targets: right where the neck of each cousin's assigned twin met with their collar. Their goal was for their tiny projectiles of saliva to drip down the twins' neatly-pressed dress shirts.
"Fire!" they hissed in unison. The squirming twins never knew what hit them. The one thing they could comprehend was that two equally large wads of spit splattered onto their necks, slowly slipping down passed their collarbones and further down their shirts.
"Blech!" they chorused, repeatedly popping their collars to air out the unidentified liquids.
"What the hell was that?" the one on the right stage-whispered.
"Unbelievable!" the left one agreed. A low whistle somewhere in front of them snatched their attention. It derived from the shaggy-haired new kid. He smirked at them, jerking a thumb next to him. The twins then stared aghast at their long-haired target from before, winking an eye at them with an unsuspecting smile. Their jaws hit the floor.
"It serves you right," their apathetic companion murmured, not glancing up from his notes.
"He doesn't know who he's dealing with," they declared quietly; wickedly.
Over a small period of approximately five minutes, mucus-enriched spit balls landed atop silver and black heads alike, into unforgiving topaz eyes, on notebooks, hands, jackets, foreheads, etc. Both parties were eventually hit with nearly a shower's worth of saliva, neither side wavering in attack and defense. Flying stray balls of spit even drenched those not participating in this waging battle. Unfortunate friends and civilians wiped areas where they'd been struck with nothing short of disgust.
Incorrectly aimed fire would hit a girl in the shoulder here, a boy's shoe there. A few less-than-silent protests nearly drowned out the lesson at the front. Strangely, no authorized action was being taken.
"We need more ammunition!" the twins exclaimed hoarsely, ducking under their desks. The piercing sound of spit balls shooting onto the outside of their shelter seemed to mimic the effect of rain (or darts).
One twin quickly grabbed Haruhi's water bottle and gulped down its contents with his fellow soldier.
"Hey!" the brunette hissed. The identical brothers simply wiped their mouths, placing the bottle back in its place.
"Minty," they commented. Their friend glared.
"AMMUNITION RELOADED!" they announced simultaneously, continuing with their fierce battle of saliva. Ayame and Shigure had surprisingly never stopped. It was turning out to be a never-ending war. That it was, until one of the twins accidentally hit their teacher square in the back.
"THAT'S IT!" she shrieked. The room fell silent as the culprits dropped their weapons. "Go wash up and all four of you are seeing me after class!"
"Really, she speaks up now?" the twins' companion mumbled.
"Madame, there's no need to interfere," Ayame said curtly. "We were just solving this matter as men."
Hatori and the boy seated behind him sweatdropped. What kind of men throw spit balls at each other?
"Don't talk back to me, Sohma-san. I-"
"Which one?" they all asked - even Hatori - their voices overlapping one another.
"You know very well which one!" she shouted. The twins rubbed their ears while Ayame blinked up at her.
"No need to bark at us; you knew the very minute we stepped into this classroom that all three of us share identical surnames. If you do not make the simple effort to specify, then there's bound to be some confu-"
"JUST GO!" she screamed at an inhuman octave. Her wrinkled face boiled red like a burning coal.
The four culprits trudged out of the room, the bottoms of their pant legs dragging on the wet floor. Several requests of permission to wash up as well filled the room. "Very well! Everyone else go join them in the bathroom to clean yourselves off."
Hatori heaved a sigh as he got up from his desk to join the crowd at the exit. A small finger tapped him on the shoulder from behind. He turned back to be met with the brown-eyed boy from before. The one who had sat gripping his desk to relieve some irritation as his twin friends spat endless balls of spit until their mouths turned dry.
"Hi," the boy said. "Sorry about my friends. They can be a real pain sometimes." He bit his lip. "Well, most of the time." He sighed. "All the time."
"I was about to say the same thing," Hatori complied with an equal amount of exasperation. They stared curiously at each other for quite some time.
"Haruhi Fujioka," the brunette said at last, offering his hand to shake.
"Hatori Sohma, as you might have heard. Nice to meet you."
"Likewise."
A/N: Thank you for reading if you got this far! Please remember to review! It's a uh...little button down there...just...a coupla words...if you liked it or not...
Bro: Yeah and I don't like people who just follow, so review or else...
Ada: Heh...of course if you follow we don't mind...or...I don't mind...Still, review! (My friend here has an aggressive advertising strategy. :P)
Hunni: Takashi, Bro is scaring me a little but I can't say it to her face or I won't get any more cake!
Mori: Yeah.