aaaaand i'm back, with more crack than you know what to do with!

this spawned from a conversation InfinityIllusion and i had and i was just the unfortunate sucker who wrote the thing. ugh.

so, bit o background, if necessary: it's not supposed to really represent a japanese school (about which i know nothing) or an american school (because the characters are still 'japanese'). that having been said, they talk distinctly american-ish, and there are suffixes scattered around to remind that they're japanese. generally i used them where a more formal or more familiar bit is needed, but they're probably not all that correct.

warnings: some good old teenage misogyny, a dose of swearing, and references to dangan ronpa 2 (which may be a little spoilery, but not it's terrible i think). also no beta, so mistakes are mine.

other than that, i hope you like? XD


It started, as most things do, with Kazuha.

That's not Kazuha's bad; it's just how things are, usually. She says something, Heiji hears it, and Heiji loses common sense for a little bit in the interest of some good fun.

Usually there's no harm in it. Heiji's always been a sucker for a good challenge, and the way Kazuha frames her sentences… are usually a little confrontational.

"You'll never be able to beat Mitsuhiko's score on the next exam!" Classical Japanese, done and done. Heiji now knows the Tale of Genji back to front and front to back, although he admits that memorizing the whole thing may have been overkill.

"You're not even that good at kendo!" Not good? Not good? Oh, he'll show her not good. Next Kendo Tournament, Heiji won first place by the second largest-margin since the whole damn tournament started.

And so on and so forth.

Heiji's also a sucker for Kazuha's frustration and tears. He's grown up with the girl; she's like a little sister. Of course he'd try to beat the shit out of anyone who made her cry. Even if she was crying with anger. Even if she was crying like she wanted to pull the guy's balls out and make him eat them herself. (Which, she totally could, being a black belt in aikido and all, but she seemed to derive some sadistic pleasure from making Heiji do her dirty work.)

"I'll fuckin' kill him!" she was howling in an empty classroom after school one Wednesday. "I'll fuckin' rip out his balls and make him eat them, stir fried!"

See?

"Oi, oi, Kazuha, who's this guy?" Heiji said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Kazuha turned to him, face splotchy and red and nails biting into her palm. "That Kuroba asshole humiliated Aoko today in front of everyone!"

"Who?"

Kazuha rolled her eyes, seemingly trading her anger for general annoyance. "Kuroba, y'know, Kuroba Kaito. That guy who's super popular, part of the drama department?"

"It's insultin' that you think I'd know that," Heiji informed her. "And anyway, what'd he even do to Aoko?"

"He—he—" Kazuha drew a deep breath, and Heiji instinctively flinched back. "He flipped up her skirt to get a look at her panties!"

"Jeez, woman, if everyone didn't know that before, they sure as hell do now," Heiji muttered, after checking to make sure his ears were still functioning.

"Fuck off, Heiji," Kazuha said. "Take your casual misogyny someplace else. I have a murder to plot."

Ah yes, with her Monster Ladies Crew—unofficial name, of course, but in Heiji's humble opinion, rather apt. It comprised of Mouri Ran, black belt in karate; Nakamori Aoko, black belt in sadistic torture; Koizumi Akako, black belt in even more sadistic torture; oddly enough, Yoshida Ayumi, black belt in looking cute as fuck until the rest of the MLC beat the shit out of you; and of course, Kazuha, aikido master.

"I'll just get goin' now…" Heiji inched towards the door. "If ya need me I'll be… not here." Possibly warning one Kuroba Kaito and letting him know that if he didn't have a will, he'd need one now.

~0~

Never let it be said Heiji does anything without the proper research. Google, and the music room's backlog of playbills for last year's musical, told him what Kuroba looked like, and that he usually played the lead male role in their plays and musicals. It also told him the fucker had one smug-ass smirk, and hell, even though Kuroba had done nothing against Heiji personally, he found himself incredibly irrigated already. A quick canvas told him that the school had auditioned for their new musical this year last month, and that practices were after school Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. How convenient. One would almost think it was a plot device—but of course, life doesn't work like that.

Heiji milled around like a teenaged lout until 4pm, when practice let out. Heiji reasoned that someone who was playing the lead in a musical might stick around a little longer than everyone else, but, just to be sure, he slipped into a back row a few minutes early.

Sure enough, there was Kuroba, dramatically waving a fencing foil around and saying some shit that sounded like Old English. His groupies, guys 'n gals alike, croweded around him after the speech.

"That was so good—"

"Honestly, you're so perfect—"

Kuroba laughed sheepishly. "Thanks? I just practice a lot, it's not—"

"Don't be so modest! You deserve the part," the teacher said, coming up from behind the students. "Now get home, all of you. It's four; the buses will leave soon."

The teacher disappeared into her back office, and after that, it was just a mad scramble for the doors, leaving Heiji and Kuroba alone. Now that the lights were half-off and Kuroba was alone on stage, he seemed much smaller than he did when he was saying gibberish in English. Heiji almost felt bad for the guy.

One quick trip down memory lane to the asshole's smug smirk extinguished any pity he flet.

Well, that was his cue. All the world's a stage, is it?

Heiji left his seat and began to make his way to the stage. Kuroba spotted him almost instantly.

"Oh, hey, if you're looking for Takagi, he already—"

"Nah," Heiji interrupted, as casually as he could. He wanted to make this guy sweat. What else could he say? He learned from the best. "I'm lookin' for you."

"Me?" Kuroba said, taking a step back, almost stumbling over his own feet.

Heiji nearly broke character to grin. This trick was something his dad had taught him. Chest out, feet wide, toes pointed slightly outwards, shoulders back, chin level—gave the perp a feeling of being undermined. It's great. "Yeah, you. No, I'm not here to fight, don't look so scared."

Kuroba took another step back. Of course he did; saying "don't look so scared" had the same effect as being told "I will punch you in the face." It's basic fear tactics.

"I'm just here to warn ya," Heiji said cheerfully, hopping up on stage.

"Warn me?"

"Heard ya did something ya shouldn't have done to one Nakamori Aoko. Does skirt-flippin' sound familiar to you?"

"Oh, that?" Kuroba said, relief washing from his face into his voice. "That's—"

"Why you soundin' so relieved, eh?" Heiji demanded. "The fuck's wrong with you? Flipping someone's skirt is sexual harassment, you indecent fuck! You think just cause you're younger than seventeen you'll only get juvie for it? Think again, asshole! Three months ago a fourteen-year-old boy got tried as an adult for trying to pressure his same-aged girlfriend into sex! Fourteen! If a fourteen-year-old boy can get tried as an adult, then you sure as fuck can, so count your blessings that the MLC is only out to kill ya and not to sue your stupid ass."

"W-Wait, you've got it wrong, I'm not—"

"Guilty?" Heiji said, raising an eyebrow. "Think you'll get let off light just 'cause a girl's accusin' ya of rape? Lemme tell you: you do not wanna fuck with Kazuha. Woman's got a tongue of fire; she can be Aoko's lawyer better than an actual lawyer. You're gonna get twenty-five to life, never-mind that that's not even the sentence for rape."

Kuroba's brows furrowed. "Aoko? No, no, I'm definitely not—"

"Dude, what's got you so defensive? Feelin' a little guilty?"

"I'm not—" Kuroba took one step back too many, knocking into a conveniently-placed can of pink paint on the ground. Who the fuck leaves paint lying around uncovered on a stage? Why the fuck'd they need that much paint anyway? The universe works in mysterious ways, sometimes. With a yell and a crash, Kuroba fell backwards, landing ass-first in a rapidly growing pool of paint.

"You've got the wrong guy," Kuroba coughed, even as Heiji ran over to help him up and inspect the damage. "I'm Kudo Shinichi, not Kuroba Kaito."

"A likely story," Heiji said, while calculating how many paper towels they'd need to clean the mess up. Twenty? Thirty? Forty? More than they had at the moment, that's for sure.

"No, honest! Look, here's my student ID!" And even as his paint-stained hands got his pants even dirtier, he dragged out his wallet and flipped it open to show Heiji his school ID: Kudo Shinichi, Junior.

Heiji looked from the ID photo, back to Kuroba's face, back to the ID. And back again. This Kudo Shinichi character did look awfully like Kuroba Kaito, but their hairstyles were different, and upon closer inspection, their eyes were even different shapes.

"C-Can you not lean so close? I'm not Kaito, I promise," Kudo said, and Heiji realized he was way in Kudo's personal space.

"Sorry," Heiji said, and leaned back. He glanced over at the spilt paint, then at Kudo's stained clothing. "I'll help ya clean that up. And let'cha borrow my jacket. It's my bad that it looks like a murder scene from Rangan Donpa; you shouldn't haveta go home lookin' like a murderer too."

"Oh, you like that series too?" Kudo said and—god damn it, they even had the same, shit-eating smug-ass grin. That had to be annoying. Heiji offered up a quick prayer for Nakamori Aoko's sanity, although, she probably didn't have it anymore. He knew that if his childhood friend were that deranged, he wouldn't be—oh wait, his childhood friend was that deranged, so he could say with empirical evidence that he was definitely no longer sane.

"Yeah," Heiji agreed, returning to the topic at hand. "The first game's mysteries were pretty easy, but the second game got way convoluted. That last one?"

"Murder-ception," Kudo said with a grin, pushing open the door to the boy's bathroom with his shoulder.

Heiji nodded his thanks and made a beeline for the sinks. "Now I just feel like a murderer," he complained as he washed the pink stuff from his hands and watched it swirl down the drain.

"I think since I knocked the paint over, I'm the actual murderer," Kudo objected. "You were just the accomplice, and accomplices don't get punished or rewarded."

"That's true," Heiji allowed, drying his hands and collecting as many paper towels from the dispenser as his conscience would let him. "Well, with any luck, no one will spray the stage with luminol and we'll escape undetected."

"Agreed."

Heiji shoved open the door and motioned for Kudo to go through first.

"Thanks… Oh, hey, what's your name?" Kudo asked, turning to Heiji.

"Oh, yeah, I never told you, didn't I?" Heiji realized. "I'm Hattori Heiji. Nice ta meetcha."

"Kudo Shinichi," Kudo said with an answering grin. "Nice to meet you."

~0~

While Shinichi spent his Wednesday afternoon being mistaken for a skirt-flipper, Kaito spent his running from those who would accuse him of skirt-flipping. Defamation and libel, all of it! As if he would ever do something so base. Only an amateur magician would actually flip someone's skirt. Kaito was beyond that. Kaito used statistics.

See, Kaito knew that Aoko, despite all her violent, mop-wielding ways, liked to fancy herself a cute, innocent young maiden, which meant that she preferred white panties. In fact, her underwear selection was seventy to eighty percent white panties. That left about twenty-five percent left for other colors. Aoko, when not in school uniform, preferred the colors white, yellow, and pink. This choice in outerwear was reflected in her selection of panty color. However, there was one major exception, and that was when she was feeling especially good. If Aoko was in an unreasonably good mood, she went red one-hundred percent of the time—crimson, scarlet, Scarlett O'Hara-type red—and, being Aoko's childhood friend who walked with her every day to school, Kaito fancied he knew when she was in a good mood.

She was definitely in a good mood that day.

Less, perhaps, after Kaito outed her panty color, but good things can't last forever.

(And yeah, maybe Kaito had to peek under her skirt a few times to get those statistics, but the important thing was that he hadn't peeked under her skirt today, and he had never actually flipped her skirt—important distinction, and it will keep him out of court one day.)

"You'll never catch me!" Kaito laughed over his shoulder. A slightly delayed enraged roar told him Aoko was about seven meters back, and didn't have a hope of catching up to him. Kaito began to slow down. His plan wouldn't work if he didn't let her catch up to him.

Kaito felt around in his pockets for the fishing wire and grappling hook he always kept on him, in case a situation like this ever arose.

Feeling very confident, he turned the corner, only to run face first into their resident British exchange student, and Colossal Pain-in-the-Ass, Hakuba Saguru. The collision sent them both sprawling onto the linoleum floor, and left Kaito disoriented long enough for Aoko's broomstick-turned-javelin to nail him in the back as he tried to get up again.

"Kaito, I'll end you!" Aoko shrieked. Corresponding war cries arose from Aoko's posse, an Amazonian tribe.

Kaito groaned. Dealing with Aoko in close rage combat was like asking for death. Dealing with Aoko and her freakishly violent princesses was like asking to be brutally murdered in your front lawn as they ransack your house before burning it down to the ground, leaving your family out in the cold and in a pile of debt. Kaito's had a lot of time to think about this.

"Kuroba, what have you done this time?" Hakuba had managed to sit up, looking neat and unruffled as ever. "Have you insulted Aoko-san's virtue again?"

Kaito gnashed his teeth and scowled at the stupid Brit. If it were any other guy, he could reasonably expect assistance. No one would leave a fellow set of balls out to be crushed by the Amazonian tribe—except Hakuba, because he sucked. He sucked the most. He was the suckiest sucking suck-face in all of sucktown.

Somehow he had gotten past Aoko's considerable defenses and charmed her so she had turned against Kaito in favor of the smarmy-faced bastard, and Kaito will not forgive him.

Aoko used to forgive Kaito every time he teased her a little, but now, at the mercy of what must be Hakuba's black magic, she refuses to let him go until he's paid some kind of reparation to her—usually through some horrible information trade. One time she demanded to see his briefs—his briefs. A man's jewel-box is private, woman! But at the business end of a mop, what could he do? He could only surrender his favorite yellow-duckie pair to her evil hands.

It's all Hakuba's fault. She was never this cruel to him before Hakuba came.

Aoko's steps came to a stop about a meter away from Kaito. Kaito lay still on the ground, closing his eyes and controlling his breathing. If playing dead worked for a bear, it might work for Aoko too.

He heard Hakuba stand up. "Ah, Aoko-san. I assume you're looking for this deadbeat?"

"Oh, Saguru-san!" There it is. That stupid, simpering, all of a sudden too-cute voice that Kaito hated. "Thank you for stopping him."

There was a pause and a rustle of cloth as Hakuba bowed. "It was no trouble at all. I was simply… in the right place at the right time, I suppose."

It was magic! Black magic! Why couldn't Aoko see it?

"In that case, thank you anyway, Saguru-san. I'll just take care of Kaito real quick."

Kaito made a quick calculation in his head. Probability of Aoko buying his play-dead ruse: 0%. Probability of her killing him if he stayed for another second: 100%. Probability of being able to escape when she and her battalion of crazy women were so close: 40%. 45% if he managed to surprise them. He'd have to take that risk.

Kaito leapt to his feet, sliding out his grappling hook and hurling it into Hakuba's back so he'd stumble into Aoko's arms. That should buy him at least two seconds. "I'd love to stay and play, but another day!" he cried, already sprinting down the hall.

One. Two.

A belated cry, a quick shout of, "Sorry!" and the chase began again.

Just a typical Wednesday.

~0~

From: Ran
To: Sonoko
Hey mrs. Kudo told me Shinichi came back with a new jacket? Apparently someone lent it to him, who do you think it is? she said it was brown leather with and lines down the front

From: Sonoko
To: Ran
OMGGGGG lemme check real quick

To: Club
From: Sonoko
Hey anyone know a guy who has a jacket like this?
image attached

To: Sonoko
From: Aya
OMGGGG I saw hattori with that jacket this morning!

To: Sonoko
From: Naoko
HATTORI HEIJI ITS HATTORI HEIJI'S SIGNATURE JACKET OMG

To: Sonoko
From: Rie
Tons of guys wear that coat

To: Sonoko
From: Mi
I think I saw some guy from school wear that but isn't it a men's jacket? Why would you want that?

To: Sonoko
From: Amile
Literally tons of people on the street wear jackets like that youre gonna have to be more specific

To: Sonoko
From: Mei
Didn't kin wear that like a week ago?

To: Sonoko
From: Manami
Idk but I bet rie knows

To: Sonoko
From: Kazuha
WHAT DID HEIJI DO

From: Sonoko
To: Club
EMERGENCY MEETING RIGHT NOW

To: Sonoko
From: Rie
k

To: Sonoko
From: Mei
k

To: Sonoko
From: Manami
k

To: Sonoko
From: Mi
k

To: Sonoko
From: Amile
k

To: Sonoko
From: Aya
k

To: Sonoko
From: Naoko
k

To: Club
From: Akako
kufufufufu

To: Akako
From: Rie
STOP HITTING REPLY ALL

~0~

"Okay," Sonoko said seriously, once they had all assembled in Sokoko's living room. "This is serious. Where's Kazuha?"

Rie raised her hand, eyes glued to her phone. "She just texted me; said she'd be here in a minute."

Sonoko nodded. "Good. We got some breaking news today from Ran and it requires immediate attention, but I wanna wait for Kazuha to get here."

"I bet I know," Akako announced from the corner.

"Don't spoil it!" Ran said. Her gentle face was shining in a way that it seldemn does, with joy and a little bit of mischief. Sonoko was proud to say that her little Ran was growing up.

"Alright, alright, I'm here, what is it?" Kazuha groused from the doorway.

"We think we saw Shinichi wearing Hattori-kun's jacket today," Ran blurted out.

"What?!" Kazuha shrieked.

Ran nodded rapidly. "Mrs. Kudo texted me to tell me Shinichi came home wearing a jacket that wasn't his, and sent me a description. Sonoko found the closest match online and—"

"It's Heiji's, that stupid idiot."

"Hattori Heiji," Aya swooned, draping herself all over Naoko's lap.

"Who's Hattori Heiji?" Rie demanded.

Aya sat up, almost nailing Naoko in the chin. "Only the hottest baseball player in the entire school," she said. "Me 'n Naoko have been trying to up his popularity for ages now."

"Oh, is he that guy who was rimming Shinichi in that fic you wrote?" Manami wondered.

"That's the one!" Aya said brightly.

Naoko frowned. "You didn't show me that one."

Aya patted her on the thigh. "I didn't want you to read my smut, darling. That was my first one. It was kind of bad."

Manami laughed. "Oh, yeah. I don't think people can actually bend like that."

Aya shrugged. "You live and learn."

"If he's so hot, then how come we haven't heard of him before?" Mei asked suspiciously.

Aya rolled her eyes. "Duh, you guys were totally on the KaiShin bandwagon."

"Can you blame them?" Naoko said quietly. "Kuroba-kun flirts with everything he sees, and he and Kudo-kun are often on the stage together."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, now you guys will know how totally awesome my OTP is," Aya pouted.

"Can we see this 'Hattori Heiji'?" Amile requested. "If there's a new ship sailing I want to keep my eyes on it."

"Kazuha, do you mind?" Sonoko asked.

Kazuha shrugged. "I can't believe that moron scored, but yeah, sure." She dug out her phone and flipped through it. "Here's Heiji at his last game."

She held out her phone, and all at once, the entire room burst into squeals, coos, and sighs.

"I can't believe we've never seen this guy before," Rie said excitedly. "Oh my god, this is perfect. I can already imagine—"

"A library scene!" Mi finished for her, blushing. "Two opposite personalities—yet so similar, clashing and melding behind a bookcase—"

"Or on the stage, oh my god—"

"Three steps aheada ya," Aya said, brandishing her backpack. "I've already gotten started on that fic."

Mei lunged for her. "Gimme!"

"Not until I'm done with it!" Aya said, holding her backpack above her head. "You'll get it in about a week."

Mei groaned. "I hate you."

"Editing is a thing."

"I'm gonna go compile a profile on Heiji, then," Kazuha said, heading for the door. "If Ran can find out anything else on Kudo-kun…"

"I'll have it by the end of the week," Ran promised.

Sonoko smiled, satisfied. "Meeting adjourned!"

In her corner, Akako cackled. With the addition of a new plaything, the club's hearts and imaginations (and ovaries) may make the coming weeks very fun indeed.


that's that, drop me a line if ya like!