I hate you because you touch me familiarly.

She wasn't hitting him yet, just trying to squirm away. For that, he was grateful.

"…Ryuuji…of course, it goes without saying…but I'd really like to know…" Taiga took a deep breath. "…HOW OLD DO YOU FUCKING THINK I AM?!"

"Just calm down already, and stop squirming." Ryuuji muttered, keeping his face straight and his eyes on the dress. The dress. They'd called it a waitress uniform – Taiga had called it a waitress uniform, but to Ryuuji, from this day onwards, it would be known as The dress.

It was a pink colour with very soft violet tones—he didn't know if there was a word for that kind of colour—and it was the very definition of absurd. There were sleeves that didn't connect to the blouse, a collar that didn't connect to the blouse, ribbons in places he didn't think ribbons could be in….

"…I'm pretty sure this is how you tie it…" The material looked so soft, and his hands were stiff with the fear of tearing it-

"I can…dress…myself!!!"

"Dammit Taiga, this thing is expensive! Can you just relax!?"

Taiga was actually very much like her namesake. The fact that there lay a caring, soft-hearted, shy girl on the cusp of womanhood inside her fierce, violent, taciturn demeanour was really beside the point-

"Look," he began, noting that she was becoming more violent. He had to placate her somehow. "This…dress…is hard to wear in your own…!"

"Minori wears it every week!"

"I'm sure she has help!"

And the point was that dealing with Taiga was really very much like dealing with a tiger.

Somewhere between trying to pull on her stockings and receiving a stinging slap, he swallowed a hysterical chuckle – he'd just imagined a real tiger, watched it's easy stride as it crossed the wilderness…and down a flight of school stairs.

"Ryuuji…!!!"

"We're nearly…done!" he finally cried, jumping back in a clumsy scramble.

"-----Huh…" Taiga muttered. Her hair was a mess, and the material was a little crumpled…but other than that, it was all good.

He sighed, approached her. Her reflection glared up at him.

"Your collar," he said, pointing to its reflection and the glare was transferred. After a moment of assessment she attacked it on her own.

"Here," Ryuuji said diplomatically. He rolled his eyes. The glare again. He approaching gently, smoothly, took her hands away. "We're out of time. Just let me do it okay?"

"…Un." She hid her eyes under her bangs and let him work.

Ryuuji sighed, bending to untie the ribbon. She was docile, but he knew under those bangs simmered a violence only barely tamed by the sight of her in the dress.

"Ryuuji." He raised his head and found himself gazing into dark brown eyes.

He shook his head. "Sorry…done."

She twisted this way and that, inspecting herself. The Taiga in the mirror turned to him. His gaze flickered away. "How is it?"

…How was it? It would…take too long to…

"…There are a lot of things I want to say. But you're late. Kushieda-san will be in trouble." He turned to the door. "I'll get you a coat and we'll go."

He felt a hand pull his shirt, and heard the loud thump of a person who'd placed their feet wrong. He tried to turn around and-

"Taiga…" he swallowed. A shiver ran up his spine as Taiga pressed her nose into his back.

"…I…" she began, hugging him tight. "Really…" There was a small, sharp intake of breath…and then—"I'll thank you later," she snapped, squeezing him tightly and then pulling away.

Just what was that? Not that it mattered, but with her tone, you could replace 'thanks' with 'maim' and no one would bat an eyelash—

She strode past him to get her coat herself, her super-heated face hidden beneath her bangs.

His gaze softened, and he blushed a little himself.

…He didn't need or want any thanks, really.

But just out of curiosity… "How do you plan on thanking me?" he asked her small but proud back as he locked the door.

She didn't turn to look at him, but answered anyway. "...Well, we'll start with you telling me what you think of the dress."