A/N: I introduced my friend to Kuragehime recently, and she told me that she ships 'crossdresser and three kingdoms'. I giggled, and then decided to write a fic, because the Kuragehime section is lacking as it is. So, I'm gonna go ahead and dedicate this to my friend Chels, who inspired this, and fangirls with me/tolerates my fangirling. You know how it goes.

Kuragehime does not belong to me. I'm not making money off this, you know the drill.
Kuranosuke x Mayaya, mention of all Amars, slight indication of Shu x Tsukimi
1052 words
Rated T

There was something about each of the Amars that intrigued Kuranosuke. He was an interesting specimen himself, more interested in the world of fashion, than the real world. His dreams couldn't be contained by the wigs he wore over his hair, and he felt no need to keep secrets in the synthetic fibers.

They were Diamonds in the Rough. Polishing them was more interesting than the norm. Even when the norm included partying, fashion, and sex. Even the most glamorous things lose their sparkle. Kuranosuke knew this, which is why it was important to find a distraction, and make it shine just as bright.

They all believed his lie, except for one. Tsukimi-chan. She was like a doll, to play dress up with. A bit of blush to cover the freckles and a comb through her hair made her a new person. It was like that bad 90s pop lyric, 'imagination, life is your creation' was written simply about his relationship with her. Maybe his crush stemmed from her awkwardness, and her pink cheeks when he was out of drag - but it wasn't serious. It was fleeting. A virgin woman belongs with a virgin man, after all.

Chieko was an interesting one. She was plain, but no more plain than the rest. Still, Kuranosuke found something intriguing about her. Her own obsession was more on his level than that of the other Amars. She also earned his respect, being one of the only girls who would speak up to him. Regardless, those traditional dolls she had still kept him out of her room - regardless of how he understood why she adored them.

Banba, the eight year old. She certainly looked it, despite really being four times that age. Every time she called Kuranosuke 'meat' he wanted to strangle her. She needed the most work of the Amars, and of them all, he had the least of a connection with her. But that hair, oh how atrocious he found it. Thank god for his wigs, to cover up the afro. Yet, she was another doll, change her hair, and her clothes, and one wouldn't know it's Banba.

Jiji - the one who stood off to the side. If it wasn't for volunteering to be the project manager, and her excitement over meeting his father, Kuranosuke still would have no idea who this girl was. She's similar to Tuskimi, but her features aren't as prominent. It was hard to form an opinion of someone who never spoke - that was the one thing she taught him. Though, she's valuable to the Amars - she's easily the most knowledgable, on a multitude of subjects.

And finally, Mayaya. Now, this woman - Kuranosuke had all he could do not to retort back to her. She's loud, boisterous, talking of all those damned Chinese men, obsessed with capsule figures - a thirty year old woman, acting like a child. Of all the Amars, she was the most like a child, even more so than precious Tsukimi-chan.

But there was something else to the tall woman. As obnoxious as she could be, she added life to that group of otakus. Even when she rambled on about what jobs the others had, she was the biggest NEET of them all. The only thing she ever talked about was her Records of Three Kingdoms, something Kuranosuke could have cared less about, and surely didn't care about at all. Though, he knew it was likely the most respectable of all the obsessions in Amamizukan. After all, it had some historic account to it. Why couldn't she care about all history like that? If she did, she could at least make something of herself. As much as she hated the 'stylish', 'hipsters', whatever they referred to the people like himself - she was, easily, the most outgoing of the Amars.

She was also the most beautiful. You wouldn't know it while looking at her, but when she was dressed for the fashion show, Kuranosuke couldn't help but be, well, proud to be her escort. Maybe it's his natural need of having the spotlight, but when Hanamori caught her on the runway he found himself feeling jealous. Damned Benz otaku, he was really just as bad as the Amars, but not as socially inept. Mayaya, she looked like a model. Her bone structure, her figure - sure, she wasn't as fabulous as Kuranosuke, not that he'd admit it if she was - but she looked like she walked off the runway in Milan. That was something else, even he had to admit.

It wasn't that he liked her, at least not rationally. No, she was probably his mothers' age, wasn't she? And her dress collection, well, it didn't exist. Even so, he could her hear ridiculous yelling when he felt alone. Something about it calmed him, and reminded him that there was another walk of life.

But as far as she was concerned, he was a woman. A woman pretending to be a man, pretending to be a woman. A tradition in the Koibuchi house - where the women dress as men, and the men dress as women. Every time he thought of how they all bought the lie, he couldn't help but smile. Innocent nuns.

The best part was when she assumed he was a flat chested woman - calling her a liar, because she stuffed her bra. If she only knew that a small chest wasn't his true secret. Not that he'd ever thought of doing anything sexual with her - oh god no! The thought made his manhood want to retreat back into his body like how Cao Ren should have retreated from Guan Yu...

Kuranosuke knew that feeling was a bit too harsh, but as much as he liked polishing, he never liked to violate, or break. Their bond was something else, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to break it. He lost Tsukimi already, and without Mayaya, where would he stand with the Amars? They were more of a family than his own - including Uncle Saburota, who humored, and seemingly enjoyed when he cross-dressed. That term was always so crude, but he knew it couldn't be helped.

Then again, what was so bad about crude things? Sometimes they weren't so bad. Like her. She was a true Diamond in the Rough. Rough around every edge.