9 The Fashionista

Th'applause of list'ning senates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to despise,
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,
And read their history in a nation's eyes,

I don't know what I'm going to do when I run out of stanzas, it's not like I can really switch poems as this one's in the title. It's "Elegy Written in a Country Church-yard" by Thomas Gray, since I haven't actually stated that before. But counting what's left, I can stretch it to 23 or so, we'll see if I get that far. A few more reviews would be nice; I would like to know what you all think of the story so far. I'm also going to be asking for some input on a question in a few more chapters (I know that's sort of looked down on here), but I'd really like to know what you all think when I get around to asking.
The school week began again and things began to settle into a pattern. Hana would meet Kurama at school and go to all his classes. At lunch they would hide out on the roof, or in an empty corner of the school-yard. After school they would go back to his house and he would spend a few hours teaching her to speak and write. She now knew how to get around on her own a bit and could get back to Yusuke's without a problem. She usually left Kurama's before dinner, she told him it was because she liked Yusuke's food better but he sensed that Shiori somehow made her uncomfortable, or that she wanted to avoid making the human uncomfortable by being present so often.

On Thursday they were walking back from school when Hana stopped in front of a shop. Kurama was used to his behavior at this point and calmly stopped beside her to wait for her to ask what the point was or just get bored. After a few minutes he glanced at his companion to see what had her so fascinated. It was a boutique clothing store, but the demoness appeared to be fascinated by the pictures inside of models in extraordinarily impractical clothing and fantastic designs that made you wonder what on earth the designer was thinking.

"Would you like to go in?" he asked with a smile. This was the first time she had shown any real interest in types of clothes and it would probably be good to encourage her. Of course if she developed a taste for haute couture he would have no way of getting her the clothes she wanted.

"I want know how they stand." She tugged his sleeve and pointed at a pair of massive stilettos one model was balanced atop.

"I believe it takes hours of practice," he replied as he held open the door for her.

Hana walked in cautiously, she was still wary of entering new buildings and walked softly. Clothes were more on display than in a usual store setting, and it screamed money to Kurama. Hana was oblivious and walked around examining things critically and looking at the posters.

"Can I help you?" Though the question was phrased in a friendly manner the saleswoman was obviously not pleased that they were there. The fox demon could clearly see her distrust and haughty disdain as her eyes flicked between them and her lips turned down.

"We're just looking, thank you."

"Well there's a mall down the street," she was in the middle of talking when the door opened again and two men entered. The first one was short and paunchy. He was dressed in all black, but unlike Hiei he was wearing an expensive suit. He was gesturing and talking to the man behind him who was a few inches taller and had a wiry build. The taller man also looked a few years younger and was in the process of flipping through a clipboard and talking on his cell phone as he pretended to listen to the shorter man.

"I can't believe she's not here already! What can be keeping her? Is this how low my status has fallen that I am ignored and mistreated? Doesn't anybody know how to keep an appointment these days!" He sighed dramatically and paused long enough to take in the presence of the two teens and the sales woman. "Ah, there she is!" His eyes shot right past Kurama and the woman to Hana who was standing with her back to all of them.

Before Kurama could even react the man had pushed past him and thrown his arms around Hana's neck. "Thank the gods you're here!" he cried as he let go of her and took her hand in both of his. "But we must get started immediately, darling! Oh your hair is even more gorgeous than I expected, it will work perfectly for this shoot. Hair and makeup won't take too long, but we must do the fitting this instant." He looked over her figure with a critical eye. "Your measurements are definitely not what the agency told me. Oh well, they're not too far off. Look Kenji, I found her!"

"The agency says she's sick," the taller man, who hadn't been paying attention, said as he flipped his phone closed. "They're sending another model but we have to wait until they round one up."

"But I have her right here," the short man said as he patted Hana's hand and stared at the taller man.

"Um, excuse me, there must be some mistake," Kurama said, moving forward to separate Hana from this strange personage.

"There most certainly is not," the smaller man replied, moving to block the boy with his ample stomach. "She's perfect for this shoot, and these agencies can be so bad at finding what I'm looking for. I'm shocked, Shocked! Now into the back," he said, shooing Hana towards another part of the store.

"I have no idea what's going on," she responded evenly as she looked from the strange man to Kurama.

"Foreign, eh? Korean, no wait, don't tell me, Chinese? You must be her translator," he said with a glance at Kurama. "Now you must tell her-"

"Sir, I'm afraid there's been a mistake. Hana is not a model. We are not from any agency. We just came in to look."

The small man stood still for a moment, staring at the boy thoughtfully. He turned slowly and looked over the girl once more. "Are you sure?"

"Very sure sir."

"Well would she like to do the shoot? Who knows when the other girl will get here. In fact, I think that would be perfect."

"But she's not a model!" Kurama protested as the small man began herding Hana into the back of the store. "And she doesn't have the paperwork to work!"

The little man heard nothing. He ushered the girl into the back, Kurama and the man named Kenji following on his heels. The backroom was not the storeroom Kurama had expected; instead it was a large studio, far deeper than the store at the front. There were long tables set around with bolts of cloth, or messy fabric strewn here and there. A few stands held completed works, or almost finished ones and overall there was an air of artistic disarrangement.

"Welcome to my workshop, I am Antonio," the short man said with a dramatic spin around to face them all.

"An-tone-ee-yo?" Hana repeated slowly.

"No you're not," Kenji replied with a sigh as he began making another phone call.

"Yes I know, but it's much more fun, isn't it? I'm really known as Tanaka Keita. My main shop is in Harajuku, but this one has enough space for my design studio." He was talking and walking backwards at the same time while pulling Hana along with him. "Well you just wait there my boy and we'll be out again in no time."

For a short, pudgy human he could move when he wanted to. Kurama jumped forward to stop him, still not liking this idea at all when the other man held out an arm to stop him. "Unless you want to see a grown man cry leave him alone," he said with a sigh. "Once he sees she's not professional and can't hold a pose he'll give up on her. He's always seeing 'just the perfect face' or 'perfect figure.' He drags the poor things in and inflates their hopes then throws them over like rotten fish when they can't do exactly what he wants."

"But she's not a model and she can't speak Japanese very well, she'll be confused and lost."

"There's a reason he told you to stay out here," the taller man rolled his eyes as he set down his clipboard on one of the tables and leaned his elbow on the surface. "You're the kind of boy who blushes just thinking about a girl in her underwear. Uptight. Pity," he said as he glanced over the boy critically. "You look like you could be somebody's poster boy."

Kurama tried not to cringe. He looked around the room and watched as Keita pulled a screen across the middle of the room, blocking Hana from view. He really didn't like this, not at all, yet at the same time here he was, doing nothing. He turned his head slightly and listened, at least he could monitor what they were saying from this distance. The minute Hana called out or complained he would be there. If she called out. 'Of course she would,' he chided himself. 'She's not stupid. Well, her first reaction to danger is most likely to be flight, but she wouldn't just stay in a dangerous situation.'

"Mm, you're not as thin as I expected, but I'm not telling you to drop weight dear, looks like you're all muscle. Look at those little arms of yours, very clean lines. Just the right height, I don't need to hem at all, take in the back a bit and we'll be good to go."

"I don't understand the point of this."

"Oh your little accent's so cute, where are you from again?"

"Austria," Hana replied.

'Austria!' Kurma thought with sudden horror. He'd told his mother she spoke German he hadn't said anything about Austria. How had she picked up that country, was it completely random or did she know it was one place where German was spoken? His thoughts were racing and he barely caught what Keita said next.

"Oh lovely people, I know a little German, but I can never make out what the Austrians are saying, their accents are so different. Can you say something else for me?"

"Gruss Gott. Wie ghet's?"

"Shit." Kenji, occupied with his gadgets again didn't hear the whispered curse. Kurama was wondering once more exactly what kind of creature he was dealing with.

"Ah so cute! You're adorable, oh my I've forgotten your name, what is it?"

"Hana. Kurama are you mad again?"

The question made him jump. She hadn't raised her voice at all or altered her tone. Somehow she knew he was listening. Of course it was a reasonable assumption given that they were both demons with preternaturally acute hearing, but it unnerved him even more.

"I'm not mad," he said in an undertone as he made sure he was turned away from the human on the phone. He hoped he was loud enough for her to hear but wasn't willing to risk speaking louder. "But where-"

He paused as he heard her make a soft noise of protest. "Too tight?" The man's voice carried across the open space. "Ok, I'll adjust it."

"From Keiko, I told her you said I was German and she said I should know a few greetings incase I met anyone who speaks it. She took a book out of the library for me. I told you yesterday Keiko was trying to teach me some words."

"I thought you meant she was just teaching you more Japanese."

"Now take it off and we'll whisk you through hair and makeup," Keita ordered, interrupting their conversation. They emerged a moment later, Hana in the clothes she had arrived in, and the designer holding something in his arms like a delicate baby. "Kenji, finish off the changes for me like a good assistant while I take Hana-san here to our favorite torture chamber."

"Where are you going now?" Kurama demanded as he fell in step with the designer. The smaller man handed off his work to his assistant and led Hana towards the front of the shop.

"To get her fixed up, she hardly fits the ensemble at all like this." He hurried her out of the store and down the street with Kurama right behind them. A few shops down was a large beauty parlor and Keita went in here.

"Tanaka-sensei, have you found your model at last?" The woman sitting behind the desk directly in front of them asked.

"At last! It's a miracle I found somebody at all, this one's rather green but I think she'll do."

"She does look nervous," the secretary replied, examining Hana through her thin, rectangular glasses. "Midori's in the back waiting for you, she had to put back her next appointment."

"She's a darling, I wouldn't trust anyone else," Keita said as he led Hana past the secretary and towards the back of the large salon. A girl with bright green hair was standing in the very back, in front of a hairdresser's chair as she straightened a mess of cosmetics and hair goodies that lay spread over her counter. "Midori-chan! I absolutely need you right now!"

"Yo Keita, whatcha want today?"

"Everything you have!" he laughed as he pushed Hana into the chair and clapped his hands together. "I want to take about an inch off the back, give her those glorious slanting bangs you're so good at and put up the rest into something huge and glorious. We're going for a sleek but soft look. Something to even out the skin tone, though hers is surprisingly good, and let's bring out those marvelous black eyes."

"You're going to cut her hair?" Kurama demanded, stepping forward.

"The ends are strangling, not fashionable at all, and it's too severe all long, she needs the bangs."

"You can't just cut her hair like that; you didn't even ask her if she would allow it."

"Chi-chan, Chi-chan," Hana said suddenly, reaching out a hand to tug at his sleeve. "What happen?"

"He wants to cut your hair."

She let out a squeal and covered her head with both hands, hunching forward. "Agh, now you've frightened her!" Keita exclaimed, dropping to his knees and waving his hands frantically. "Only a little Hana-san, only a little!" He held out his index finger and thumb to indicate a small amount and she looked up carefully. "Well maybe not even that much," he said, lessening the distance between his fingers. "And some pretty bangs, look your friend has bangs, Midori has them too." The green haired girl flipped the hair in question and gave the girl a wry smile.

"Okay, only a little cut," Hana breathed as she sat up and uncovered her head. Keita sighed and glared at Kurama.

Midori set to work at once while Keita watched carefully, making little suggestions and comments to make sure everything turned out exactly how he wanted. The woman was quick and efficient at her work and soon had the demoness' hair done and had moved onto her make-up. Kurama didn't know half of the items they were talking about and was thoroughly lost by the obscure and roundabout way they described the effect they were going for. It was as if these people were speaking a language he had never heard and would never be able to understand. He had seen his mother do her makeup on more than one occasion, but that had never called for an airbrush or gluing on individual eyelash extensions. Hana sat through it all patiently, with the rigid pose of a deer that has frozen for a moment to take in the situation around it.

"Okay, done!" Midori called, letting out a pleased sigh and stepping back from her work.

"Excellent, let's go!" Keita whisked Hana from the chair and back onto the street in a millisecond. Kurama rushed after them, checking his watch to make sure he still had plenty of time before his mother got home from work.

Back in the workroom Kenji had finished the alterations and Keita immediately hustled Hana into the back to change. Kurama waited with growing impatience, he just wanted to get this over with. He was certain that the moment they sat her down and tried to take pictures of her they would see she was not fit in any way to be a model. He hadn't even explained cameras to her, except vaguely how TV shows were filmed, and he was sure she would ask questions the entire time. She also wouldn't be able to pose, she was a demon, one raised with the mindless fear of a prey species and they had no conception of complex ideas like acting or emoting.

"Ah perfection!" The exclamation brought the demon's attention around. Keita drew back the screen and Hana turned to look at them, inclining her head slightly as she regarded the two men.

"It did come out better than expected. Do you want me to alter the other outfits as well?"

"Get started immediately," Keita clasped his hands as he looked over Hana and sighed. "Well boy, what do you think now?"

"What have you done to her?" Kurama asked.

"What do you mean 'what have I done to her?' phrasing it like there's something wrong!"

"She isn't herself."

"She's not supposed to be!" the designer shot back with passion. "The model is our canvas, she becomes more than herself and she should not out shine the clothes, but at the same time they cannot drown her. Everything must be balanced to create something new and beautiful. Together they make perfection. The photographer will be here in five minutes, since he is already twenty minutes late. Outside!"

Hana turned her head slowly to look at him and pursed her lips. It was very much her gesture but seemed completely different now. He was surprised clothes could make someone so different, but it wasn't just that, she was holding herself differently. The long sleek dress was too elegant for Hana, so Hana had become more elegant to fit it, holding herself straighter and looking around without a sign of hesitation. She followed the designer slowly, taking dainty steps and wobbling ever so slightly. Kurama realized that she had never worn heels before in her life, and was now forced to balance on them as she followed the skipping Keita.

They walked outside to find the photographer had actually arrived and was setting up his equipment on the sidewalk. Apparently they were intending to use the buildings as a backdrop for the shoot. "You're actually less than a half hour late!" Keita exclaimed and the photographer gave him a grumpy smile.

"With all the heckling you've given me for the past week I had to get here early."

"Early!" The designer laughed and moved Hana around so the picture would take in the architecture of the neighboring building. "Now you stay here, look at the camera," he pointed to the dark object the photographer was fiddling with, "and do what he tells you, okay?"

"I try," she replied, shifting uneasily on her shoes.

"Ok, chin up a little more, head to the side, eyes over here," the photographer said in quick sucession and it took the girl a moment to respond.

"She's foreign," Keita whispered to the photographer as Hana shifted her position.

"Hmph," was the photographer's response. "She doesn't look sophisticated with those wide eyes. She needs to look less vapid and cutesy."

"But the innocence is part of the charm. It softens the sharp lines."

"A bit more sexy, a little less jailbait, please."

"I not know those words," Hana said, her confused expression making her look even less 'sophisticated'.

I'm a project runway fan, so sue me. But frankly, I hope you won't sue me, and that you liked this chapter...