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I'm back.
That's all I can say, really. Other than: I'm glad to see that people actually read my stuff. It's nice to know. Kind of like a motivator.
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"Aah…"
Mimi stretched her arms out, reclining against the soft cushions of the booth. "Isn't all this relaxing?"
"Relaxing?" Sora repeated incredulously, feeling disbelief at the woman's statement. Her entire body ached from the shopping expedition. "I've had military exercises more relaxing than this!"
"That's because you've never stepped a foot into the mall," Mimi sniffed.
"And if I have my way," Sora declared vehemently, "I never will again!"
They were shopping the local super mall on a beautiful November day which Sora could think of several million other ways to enjoy. She couldn't believe how hardy her side of the human race was, to continually return to this place cramped with people, food and clothes and come home triumphant and eager to come back. She was a detective who had run through countless martial drills, practiced a myriad of training routines daily and even did yoga in her spare time. She was Sora Takenouchi, detective agent of notable reputation, scourge of Odaiba's notorious underbelly.
And she was completely wrung out from being jostled by avid pre-Christmas shoppers and exhausted by countless visits to various fitting rooms located all over the building.
'It's for the job,' Sora had reminded herself repeatedly during the more stressful parts of the shopping trip. It had become almost a mantra as she silently chanted it over and over again, attempting to rein in her temper.
She had never known that shopping could be so exhausting. All her previous trips to the mall had been simple: go in, buy a new pair of jeans and a few shirts, socks and maybe a new pair of rubber shoes if her old ones were already worn out, then go home. Simple as that.
However, evening gown shopping, it appeared, was more complicated than that.
When Mimi and Kari had been the ones to choose the dresses and wear them, they demanded her opinion and got irritated when Sora's obvious lack of fashion knowledge shone through. Somehow, all of her comments went out wrong and leaned in the ignorant direction.
The other part of the afternoon had consisted of Mimi and Kari thrusting dresses to her, making her try them out and stand for what seemed like hours in front of them, and then promptly telling her to find another one, criticizing her bad taste when they had in fact been the ones to pick it out for her.
Sora really hated shopping.
So far, the whole day had been a waste. Mimi and Kari hadn't been able to find anything suitable for themselves and for Sora, since Sora couldn't be trusted to know the difference between one dress and another, her answer relying heavily on color only.
Mimi sighed again, remorse in her tone this time. "Sora, Sora, Sora. You can't see the beauty of all of this. That's why you're so surly."
Sora arched her eyebrow. "Maybe my surliness stems from the fact that you've been dragging me around the mall from store to store to find something that clearly does not exist?"
"It's not our fault," Kari declared. "No store in this mall has any decent gowns appropriate for Tsukichi's gala!"
"Some were nice," Sora shot back irritably. "Like that blue one you picked out in the last store we've been to."
"That one?" Mimi looked scandalized. "You think it looked nice?" She laughed. "Sora, I've met tree stumps with better fashion sense than you. I didn't believe you when you said that you rarely went here, but I'm beginning to think that you were right."
"Fashion sense is not one of the priorities in my line of work," Sora replied testily. "Besides, I have better things to do with my time, things more important than swapping fashion tips with a decapitated tree."
Mimi laughed, completely unfazed. "Of course. Like beating the stuffing out of a punching bag."
"Or polishing your gun to the point where it actually turns white," Kari added.
"That's the luster," Sora answered lamely, feeling ganged up on. "You've gone too far, Kamiya."
Kari winced and apologized. "I forgot. Rule number one with Sora: never say anything criticizing or censuring of Sora's gun, car, or parakeet." Her face was completely straight.
Sora's eye twitched. "You're mocking me, aren't you?"
Kari shrugged nonchalantly. "It's true, isn't it? You'd flay and quarter the poor fool who'd make the mistake of insulting your gun before the unfortunate takes another breath." She blinked. "What's odd is that you think your gun would be insulted."
Sora muttered an oath under her breath and crossly skewered her food, thrusting the fork into her mouth and chewing irritably.
"Oh, don't say that, Sora," Mimi grinned, digging into her own food. "It's not something you say in polite society."
"Exactly," Sora said pointedly. "Polite society. Any of that around?" she waved her fork. "No."
Mimi and Kari looked slightly offended.
After they finished their meal, the two women set out once again to find their dream dresses (with the agency's funding, they had quite a lot of money to spend), lugging the sullen detective along behind them. They found their way into a large store when a dress suddenly caught Mimi's attention, and another, thus subjecting the others once again to another round of posing and waiting.
Sora sighed heavily as she wandered aimlessly through racks of gowns, not really looking. Mimi and Kari were arguing over the dresses—something rather pointless, since Sora really couldn't see the difference between the two dresses.
But of course, that was because she was profoundly untrained in the so-called 'art' of fashion wrangling.
Sora suddenly realized, after ambling along down aisle after aisle for some time, that the store was quite a lot bigger than she had thought, as she didn't know where she was going. Looking around, she discovered that she had lost sight of her friends and had meandered into the darker and empty area of the store, which she didn't realize was there in the first place upon entering the store.
She stopped and glared at her surroundings.
Terrific. Now she was lost.
She turned around to see where she had walked down and couldn't remember where she had gone—was it the left or the right? A strange depression settled around her: she had gotten herself lost in a clothes store. She, the famed detective who had brought down the Fujimiya drug ring.
And it wasn't even a gun store.
Sighing again, she turned back, glancing to her left, and stopped dead. A thought raced through her head:
That wasn't there before.
A strange plaster mannequin stood on a platform before her. But that wasn't what held her attention. Sora may not have known much about clothing and fashion, but the gown worn by the mannequin certainly made her think twice.
And it took a really remarkable dress nudge her interest, as she virtually had none prior to seeing this dress.
"It'd be perfect on you, you know."
Sora stiffened and whirled around immediately. She relaxed (a fraction), though, when she saw him. "Not you again."
Indeed, although Sora denied it, it was him again. The man with the pale blue eyes and the porcelain skin stood smiling lazily at her, leaning against a rack of gowns made ugly when compared to what she had in front of her. A dark brown overcoat was slung over his black turtleneck and his slacks, and an insufferably smug smile graced his elegant face.
With some surprise, Sora realized that she could see the color of his hair this time. The mysterious man was a blonde! And not just any blonde, since his fair hair was beautiful in color, an attractive shade of gold.
"Hey," Sora couldn't help saying in surprise. "You're blonde." Hastily, she added, "Figures."
"Only in the hair color, my dear spitfire," he drawled easily, laughing. "Your potential for examination never fail to enlighten me."
Oh. Right.
Sora forgot that he was the annoying thorn in her side. The shock of seeing the true color of his hair had unbalanced her momentarily, but thanks to that remark of his, Sora was now fully content and even enthusiastic to continue finding him insufferable in peace again.
As a testament to that, she growled irritably and snapped, "Just what is it that you want from me?"
He laughed and moved closer, smiling easily. "What makes you think that there's something you have that I want?"
Sora refused to step back as he neared her, bravely holding up her front. "Well," she replied sarcastically. "It kind of has something to do with the fact that you keep following me around." She glared at him.
He stopped in front of her, towering slightly above her head—he was half a head taller than she was, and Sora was a tall lady. He seemed to mull that over a bit in his mind. "Hmm," he mused. "That sort of does give a stalker sort of impression, doesn't it?" He looked thoughtful.
"Yeah," Sora sniped acerbically. "Sort of."
There was more bite to her voice than she had intended; his close proximity to her person was doing strange things to her, disconcerting her for a bit. He really was too attractive. His pale skins, now that she saw him up close, was smooth and unlined but for a barely visible scar on his high cheekbone, and his eyes were entrancingly blue.
Realizing that she was staring, she hurriedly continued, berating herself inwardly. "So what do you want?"
His eyes crinkled slightly with silent mirth. "You seem to be angry, Sora," he observed neutrally. "Have I done anything to offend you?"
Once again, he had chosen to ignore her question. Sora's ire rose, and she knew he knew this.
"There is nothing you haven't done," she growled and unenthusiastically decided to rein in her temper before she could strangle him. "If you won't tell me why you always pop up and bother me, could you just leave me alone? There are enough problems in my life."
His lips curled up into a devastating grin and he bowed outrageously "Madam, although it grieves me to the core to be regarded by your esteemed honor as a nuisance, necessity requires this incessant badgering."
"Go away," she groaned.
He laughed, straightening lankily. "All in due time, Sora," he chuckled. "All in due time."
The man didn't seem to offer any more words and remained silent, simply watching her with twinkling eyes. Reasoning that he probably meant her no harm (at least, for now), she decided that it was safe to turn her back on him. The back of her mind lingered on the gorgeous dress on the pedestal.
Besides, ignoring him would be fun.
Now that it was settled, she turned and stepped closer to the mannequin, noting that this alone was lit by an overhanging spotlight.
She scrutinized the dress, searching for any flaws that were visible to her untrained eye and found none. It was perfect and beautiful. For some reason, she immediately knew that it would fit her admirably. Grudgingly, she admitted to herself that she actually wanted it.
"You ought to get it," came the man's voice over her shoulder. "It'd be splendid on you." There were faint undertones of travesty in his voice and Sora turned on her heel and faced him squarely, bristling.
"Do you mind?" she asked in a frosty tone.
He was grinning mockingly at her. "I'm being honest now, you know," he offered, leaning against the railing of the display. "It was made for you—you'd probably outshine all those snotty money-grubbers at Tsukichi's." His eyes were unreadable. "You'd be even more beautiful," he murmured, his hand reaching out slowly.
Sora put her hands on her hips, ignoring the blush spreading on her cheeks and stepping away from his hand. "Just a second," she started. "How do you know that I'm going to Tsukichi's gala?"
His lips quirked up and he withdrew his hand and informed her, "You just confirmed it, you know, so you don't really need to know how I do." He approached her and leaned close, murmuring, "I wish you much luck, Sora." He placed something in her hands.
Sora's breath caught at his sudden and not entirely unwanted proximity. She stared at him, then realized what she was doing and furiously looked away, swearing sulfurously under her breath.
She felt a sharp gust of air blowing past her and looked up again, only to find that he wasn't there anymore.
He had vanished again!
Incensed and feeling disoriented, she realized that the lights weren't dim at all—rather blinding, actually. There was no hint of the place where she had just been in. In fact, looking around, she found that she was no less than three feet away from where Mimi and Kari stood.
Startled and more than slightly confused, she whirled around and swallowed.
The mannequin wasn't there.
Feeling something soft and silky against her arms, she looked down and saw that she was cradling the dress the mannequin had been wearing. She looked at it suspiciously.
A flood of questions rushed through her mind, but before she could properly examine any of them, Kari pounced on her, exclaiming in a delighted voice, "Sora! Where'd you get this dress? It's gorgeous!"
Mimi, ears pricked up, was at her side in a flash, demanding to see the dress. Sora, who was still stunned by the prior events, merely held the dress up.
"It's perfect!" Mimi declared happily. "I'd die to wear a dress like that, but I don't have your coloring. You have to get it!"
Before Sora could even think on the matter, her two friends dragged her over to the cashier and whipped out the credit card Ken had ignorantly given them, slapping it triumphantly on the counter. Sora noticed with detached relief, that the two women had already chosen their dresses.
"Hold it, miss," the saleslady objected. "I'm sorry, but we don't own this dress."
Sora froze. "But I found it here!"
The lady shrugged. "It doesn't belong to us. I've handled all of the dresses in this store and this one, I've never seen before." She paused. "It is lovely, though, isn't it?" she said admiringly.
"Odd," Sora murmured, staring at it.
That man…
"You can have it, though," the lady spoke again. "Free of charge, since it doesn't belong to us."
"What?" Sora blinked. "But—"
Mimi interrupted quickly, "Thank you, miss. Could you have it wrapped up for us, though?"
As the woman turned to do so, Sora argued, "Is that right?"
Mimi shrugged. "You heard the woman—she's practically giving it to us, and that dress ought to be worth thousands. Honestly, Sora, you really wouldn't know a bargain if it came up to you and peed on your Birkenstocks."
Kari remarked, "How…graphic."
"And I don't own Birkenstocks," Sora muttered.
"Mm-hmm…" Mimi murmured absently, eyeing Sora. "Hmm…"
Sora's guard slammed against the sky. Her hand twitched toward where her gun would normally be—unfortunately, Kari had persuaded her to leave it at home. "Stop that, Mimi. I don't like being looked at like a side of beef."
"Pearls," was Mimi's vague reply.
"What?"
Mimi elaborated, "You'd look like a goddess with pearls. And lip gloss—not lipstick. We must promote the natural look for you."
"Uh…Mimi? I don't…have lip gloss. Or lipstick." Sora dreaded the answer.
Mimi positively glowed. "We'll be buying that along with the pearls. Ladies, our shopping trip has just extended."
"Haven't we shopped enough?" Sora asked desperately.
Kari laughed gleefully. "Of course not—we have all of Ken's credit card to waste. When it's all zeroes, maybe then, we'll think of going home."
Sora's stomach grew cold. "There's a lot of money in there," she said miserably.
Mimi answered, looking cheerful, "Then we'd better get to work, eh? Now, we still need to think about bracelets. Or maybe gloves…"
As Mimi eagerly began to describe her plans for the helpless (and hapless) detective, Sora turned her eyes heavenward with one single question:
Why me?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I am NOT going anywhere looking like—!"
Sora's scream was suddenly cut off by sounds of a struggle coming from the bathroom where all the girls were cloistered in preparation for the gala.
Taichi was relieved not to be in there—many of the sounds seemed to be made in great pain.
"How long have they been at it?" he asked Izzy apprehensively, tugging at the collar of his tux.
"Approximately two hours and forty-seven minutes of tortured screaming," the redhead affirmed dryly. "Not counting that brief period of twenty-five minutes where it was quite silent."
"I'm guessing that Mimi and Kari resorted to chloroform at that point," Ken mused.
"Or maybe they sprayed her with perfume, so she passed out while they took their gas masks," Tai suggested brightly.
The other two looked at him with obvious exasperation.
"What?" Tai protested. "I've heard it happened before…somewhere…I think."
Izzy sighed. "How exactly did he get to be chief of *any* department?" he demanded of Ken.
Ken shrugged. "I must have inhaled too much of Odaiba traffic that day."
"Or maybe you were bribed with too many jelly-filled donuts," Izzy remarked.
Before Tai could attempt to defend his legibility, the door swung open and out stepped Mimi and his little sister, dragging behind them the abhorrently swearing Sora.
The three men blinked.
Kari wore a pretty yellow gown and a shawl in a creamy white shade. The gown fell to the floor in a burst of ruffles at the hem, and wispy lines were embroidered erratically over the dress. Her sleeves only capped her shoulders, leaving the rest of her arms bare. Kari's short hair was clipped back to show her pretty face and the lovely pair of gold suns dangling from her ears. A gold necklace linked a large gold drop to her throat.
"Well, all of you look nice," she said brightly, grinning at the suited men.
"What do you think?" Mimi twirled, displaying her backless gown.
It was a floor-length gown with a fluid-looking material for the outer skirt, all in blending shades of light pink. Her brown hair was styled with a large rosebud to cascade down over one shoulder in a waterfall of auburn curls. The dress had billowy sleeves with tippets trailing from the cuffs and flowers stitched to the hem with matching rose earrings and a delicate chain necklace. Her smile was radiant.
Sora's, however, was not.
Which was to be expected.
The detective wore a light scowl, which marred her otherwise delightful features. Sora's was a dark black dress which fell smoothly over her slender body to the floor. She wore white elbow-length opera gloves and pearls adorned her neck elegantly. Her fiery red hair was set up in a careful twist at the back of her head, displaying her surprisingly graceful neck. Her ears were bare, since they were un-pierced. A sheer gray sash was tied around her narrow waist.
"Any remarks?" Sora glared at Tai, who seemed to be bottling up laughter.
"It would be moderately safe, Tai," Izzy informed him. "She doesn't seem to have her gun with her."
Sora smirked. "Don't be too sure."
Tai eyed her curiously. "I can't see where you'd be able to hide your gun in a dress like that," he said.
Mimi laughed. "I didn't either. Sora proved me wrong, though."
"So what do you think?" Kari asked, smiling at her brother winsomely.
Tai grinned. "You look lovely, dear sister." He frowned slightly. "I may have to bring a club…"
"Whatever for?"
"To beat away the over-enthusiastic young men who you'll meet…" He narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you should change—"
"Hold it!" Mimi declared. "Kari's wearing that gown to the gala, and that's the end of it. Turn of your big brother mode, Tai. We can't have you massacre all the young men at Tsukichi's party."
"What about the old ones?" Tai asked, his frown deepening. "Because there are many old—"
"TAI!!"
"Enough of this," came Ken's thankful interruption. He was checking his watch. "We're going to be late. Why did you girls take so long?" he asked with a hint of asperity in his voice.
Kari threw Sora a disgusted look. "Sora wasn't able to…sit still."
"How did you manage to subdue her?" Izzy asked curiously.
Mimi sighed. "Chloroform didn't work—it appears that she somehow built up an immunity to it—so I had to use this deadly paralyzing perfume I reserve for unwanted attacks." She grinned suddenly. "It's a good substitute for mace."
Ken and Izzy gaped at her, then turned their bewildered gazes to a smugly smirking Tai.
Sora scowled. "Maybe I should have stayed knocked out. Oblivion certainly sounds more appealing that shuffling around in a room full of money-mad sharks in a dress."
Ken shook his head, muttering, "I don't believe this." He looked at his watch again. "We're going to be late. Let's go."
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That's all for now. In a hurry.