15. Playing Dress-up, Fujicest + Mizuki
When Yuuta was younger, he hadn't had any problems playing dress-up with his brother. They were close in age and always did things together anyway, and while Yumiko-neesan was older, she had no problems joining in with the fun every so often.
"Just don't tear them," she'd say, handing over flower-print stockings and old, frilly dresses that she couldn't fit into anymore anyway.
Yuuta would eye them warily while his brother took them with chubby, greedy hands, asking in an eager voice if they could borrow her jewelry and makeup, too. He never put up a fight, though. Not when Yumiko-neesan helpfully applied the lipstick, not when Aniki buttoned up his dress. They'd perform runway shows across their living room, to the amusement of their mother and the exasperation of their father. Yuuta would even beam proudly when Yumiko-neesan declared him the winner, and he'd carefully eat his extra piece of chocolate cake prize so that he didn't get crumbs over his pretty dress.
That was when he was younger.
Now at a whopping thirteen years old, he was beginning to think it was a little strange.
"Nee-san doesn't even wear stuff like that!" Yuuta said, furrowing his eyebrows at the pink and black striped tights his brother had just pulled out of his dresser.
"I'm not sure exactly what you're implying, Yuuta," Fuji said, smiling. "Maybe she's had a change in style while you were at St. Rudolph."
"Data says Yuuta-kun returns home an average of two-point-three times every two months," Mizuki said, and Yuuta ignored him because he was trying to forget that the other boy was even there. "He would have noticed something like that, Fuji-kun."
Fuji tilted his head in Mizuki's direction. "Your input is very much appreciated," he said lightly, and then glanced towards Yuuta. "Your friend should join us more often, Yuuta."
"No he shouldn't," Yuuta grumbled, picking up a pair of pink, fingerless gloves and glaring at them.
"Here," Fuji said, digging around in another drawer. "I have something you can wear, too." He pulled out a pair of matching tights, purple and black this time, and thrust them in Mizuki's direction.
Mizuki blinked. "Nfu, Fuji-kun, I'm not sure I--"
"We'll match," Fuji said, still holding the tights out.
"Aniki," Yuuta said exasperatedly, flopping back onto the bed and pulling a pillow over his head. He wasn't there. He really wasn't there. He was back in his bed at St. Rudolph. This was all a horrible dream.
Mizuki finally took the tights warily. "What do you wear them with?"
Fuji smiled brightly. "I'm so glad you asked!" He grabbed Mizuki's wrist, pulling him in the direction of his closet. "I have a skirt that will fit you perfectly – it's leather, too!"
Yuuta rolled over, curling into a fetal position.
It was all a dream.
"We can even set my camera up to take pictures when we're finished. Yuuta and I used to do that all the time, didn't we, Yuuta?"
A nightmare, even.
Later, when all of the pictures seemed to have a mysteriously absent Fuji and featured Mizuki alone, hair done up and makeup perfectly whorish, Yuuta really couldn't say he was surprised.
FIN