A Comedy in Two Parts for cypsiman2
Disclaimer: If only I did own SKU. *sigh*. Just jesting. I'd make a mess out of it anyway
"Nanami-sama, let me take your bag!" Tsuwabuki offered, not unlike a golden retriever in his enthusiasm. The stand-in Student Council President dropped her heavy Longjump saddle-purse into his arms without a second glance. His knees buckled, but with great effort Tsuwabuki stood again and straggled after her onto the main balcony of the Student Council Room.
"He's doing it completely wrong, Mickey," Juri whispered, rubbing her temple in frustration. "He's acting more like a footman than a Prince."
"He's very smart, though. I've been tutoring him in my spare time," Miki replied, writing in his notebook thoughtfully.
"Come on, Mickey," Juri smirked. "Intelligence does not equate common sense." Miki grumbled to himself.
"You're right, of course, Miss Juri," he still said. At that moment, Nanami swept up to the table and sat down with as much attitude as she could muster. The bonfire that had been growing, unnoticed, on the table, suddenly exploded.
"Whew!" Nanami explained, fanning herself. "So hot. Tsuwabuki, go get a fan!" The boy obliged. Meanwhile, Mickey was fishing a remote out of his suitcase. He handed it to Juri.
"When did you start carrying that suitcase?" Juri asked.
"Well," Mickey grimaced, turning red, "I got into an," he cleared his throat, "shall we say, unpleasant situation. I figured I needed better protection that a music notebook." He looked extremely determined.
"You look like a schoolgirl, Mickey," Juri laughed. Mickey turned pink, puffing his cheeks out.
"It's not funny, Juri!" he protested.
"I know, I know," she said to pacify him.
"What isn't funny?" Tsuwabuki inquired, holding a remote-control helicopter.
"Nothing, nothing," Juri said.
"You two!" Nanami harrumphed. "Corrupting a pure mind!" She turned to Tsuwabuki, and glared. "A helicopter toy? How childish! How's that going to help me get away from the heat?" Tsuwabuki visibly wilted.
"Just sit inside. It's not as hot there," Miki advised practically. "Here, Tsuwabuki. Let me have it." In a manner of seconds, Miki's remote control synced with the toy. Juri took the remote and started flying it in circles around the fire. Tsuwabuki watched it doggedly, his eyes glue watching its spiraling path.
"I never!" said Nanami. "Aren't we supposed to be working on Student Council duties? Grown up things?"
"That's a lot of hot air," Juri commented wryly. The helicopter plummeted and was quickly eaten up by the flames. Juri frowned, and Miki rushed to click his stopwatch. "Oy, Tsuwabuki?"
"Yes, Upperclassman Arisugawa?" he answered.
"Our little Mickey Mouse here is a little concerned. He noticed while calculating class ranks for elementary school you slipped from first to second place," she told him sternly. Miki moaned.
"Ha ha," Tsuwabuki chuckled nervously. "I've always been second place."
"Tsuwabuki!" Nanami said. "That's horrible! You need to keep up your grades."
"Don't worry, Miss Nanami," Miki pacified. "I've decided to tutor him full time." He smiled at his stopwatch.
The next day, Sunday, saw Juri bright and early knocking on Miki's door. After several minutes of leaning gracefully on the doorframe and another several trying to make sense of the shouting going on inside, Juri forced the door open just as Miki was opening it. He was bleary-eyed, his hair sticking up all over the place. A kitchen knife came whizzing past his head. Juri caught it deftly, spinning it in her fingers, then just as quickly hurling it back in.
"So sorry, Upperclassman Arisugawa," Miki yawned, bowing at a perfect ninety degrees even in his sleepiness. "My sister Kozue had some friends over for a party. Ow!" He hopped up and down, his toe throbbing from the ladle that had just smacked his foot.
"You must be tired when you're calling me by my last name. How do you even get any sleep in there?" Juri wondered, closely the door behind Miki before any additional implements came sailing through the air. She ruffled Miki's hair, her face serious. "Your hair looks like a bird's nest."
"They're usually worse, these parties," Miki admitted sheepishly. "Last time they got ahold of my competition swords. It ended with my sabre twisted in a knot, my epee broken into pieces, and my foil stuck in the ceiling. It's a miracle I got the two hour's sleep I did." Juri winced at the use of the word "miracle". Miki straightened. "All right. What do we need to do for the fencing club today?"
"Nothing," Juri said. "Over half the team is on the school trip. I thought we would visit Tsuwabuki." She started walking towards the elementary school dorms, and Miki followed. "He's got to be taught to be a true Prince. He looks a fool."
"That's your reason?" Miki inquired. Juri nodded. She rapped sharply on Tsuwabuki's door, having used her influence as treasurer to obtain his dorm room number.
"Miss Juri, should we really be taking advantage of the school system like this?" Miki asked nervously. "I'm pretty sure we're not allowed to do this. Taking school funds and such."
"Really?" Juri scoffed. "Now, Miki. How is this any different than hacking into the school database to get all the information on Himemiya Anthy?"
"H-how did you know?" Miki stuttered. Juri only smiled bitterly.
"Good morning, Upperclassmen!" Tsuwabuki greeted. He looked from Miki to Juri, confused by the enigmatic look they were both wearing.
"Ready, Miki?" Juri asked.
"Mmm!" Miki replied. Each grabbed one of Tsuwabuki's arms and marched him down the dorm hall. Mari was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, but they kept going.
"Sorry, Mari!" he called over his shoulder as the two hustled him into a scintillating maroon Lamborghini with indigo wheels.
"Where did you get this car?" Miki asked as they zoomed off.
"A gift," Juri said, tossing her hair. "One of my modeling patrons gave it to me. Said it was a revolutionary model." The car stopped as soon as it had started, or so it seemed. They were in front of a shop, rose-paned windows filled with all sorts of props. "First stop, hair."
"Waugh!" Tsuwabuki exclaimed when they pushed him into the shop.
"Welcome to the Ohtori Drama Club's Prop shop, Rose-Colored Glasses!" a bouncy girl with her hair in a ponytail welcomed. "Not many notice our boutique. Happy to entertain you! Extra! Extra! Extra fifty percent off for you! What are you looking for?"
"A wig for this boy," Juri said.
"Alright then! Just call me Miss C. Miss A and Miss B in the wig department will help you," she directed. Just follow the signs." A bright light shone on Miss C, blotting her out. Tsuwabuki blinked once, twice, thrice.
"Lead the way, Princeling," Juri said. "You need courage."
"Arrogance," Miki added, and Juri nodded approvingly. Tsuwabuki started walking resolvedly with the pointing finger signs as his guide. The deceptively small store had thousands of wigs in the back corner. Miss A and Miss B pounced on Tsuwabuki.
"Hello!" they chorused. "Do you know, do you know, do you know what you want?"
"A wig please," Tsuwabuki said.
"What about this one?" Miss A said, bringing a short pink wig, the locks styled boyishly but stylishly.
"Too naive," Juri said, shaking her head.
"This one?" Miss B offered, proffering a lilac wig with soft layers.
"Too worldly," Miki shuddered.
"What about this one?" Tsuwabuki held up a short black wig.
"Absolutely not," Juri said. "If you are going to be a prince, you have to look noble. Short hair brings the opposite of a commanding presence. Do you want to look just like any other student?"
"My research confirm it," Miki continued, lecturing, "those with short hair are, statistically, considered 100% less bishonen."
"This is it." Juri handed Tsuwabuki a long blonde wig. Miss A and Miss B helped him put it on. "Yes." Blonde locks flowed past Tsuwabuki's shoulders. The cut Juri had chosen wasn't too girly, and Tsuwabuki was already starting to look more Prince than boy. "Moving along." They zipped out of the store, only stopping for Miki to pay the bill.
"Huh," Miki said, observing Tsuwabuki in the car. "Something's kind of off about your clothes."
"True," Juri agreed. Tsuwabuki shrank from her critical gaze. "You need princely garb."
"What about a Student Council uniform?" Miki suggested. "Princely, but easy to find."
"That'll have to work for now. Meanwhile, Tsuwabuki, give me two hundred crunches."
"In the car?"
"In the car."
At the end of the day, Tsuwabuki looked the part of a Prince. The three sat around the Student Council table, pleasantly tired. Tsuwabuki yawned, stretching his arms to the sky.
"By the End of the World!" Juri cried. "You have no muscle. Do you have some sort of hidden strength that allows you to carry all of the Cow's baggage?"
"The Cow's?" Miki asked quizzically.
"Never mind that," Juri said. "Tsuwabuki, we are having an arm wrestling contest right now. But finish your milk first." He gulped down the beverage obediently.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Miki hedged.
"It's fine," Tsuwabuki said, working on the arrogant tone they had been teaching him.
"Start!" Juri said, and she and Tsuwabuki's locked hands pressed. Juri's eyes glinted, and within a second, she had pushed Tsuwabuki's arm down. He yelped. Miki clicked his stopwatch and wrote down the time.
"That was 1.998 seconds," Miki reported. Tsuwabuki laughed nervously. "It's okay, Tsuwabuki. No one can beat Juri at arm wrestling. I mean nobody. Touga broke his arm last time trying to win."
"Really?" Tsuwabuki asked in wonderment looking at Juri's triceps. They weren't uncommonly developed.
"Indeed. Except we don't know if it's intimidation or strength that wins the matches for her."
"Am I intimidating?" Juri asked Miki with an evil smirk.
"Well, not to me," Miki said, trying to nonchalantly wipe sweat off his brow.
"What ever the case," Juri said, "tomorrow, you, Tsuwabuki, fencing hall. One can't be a Prince if you don't have the physique."
