Duran-kun and Kiyo-chan's Omake Theater

(featuring the Kuga-Fujino family pets)

"Oi, Shizuru," Natsuki called from the kitchen table, "would you stop pacing? I can't concentrate on this essay!"

"If Natsuki would finish her work on time, she would not have to skip school in order to complete it by the 5:00 p.m. deadline," Shizuru pointed out.

"We're talking about you here." Natsuki refused to budge from the point, particularly as budging would mean than she'd have to admit pulling three gaming all-nighters in a week was not a good idea. "And what's with the pacing, anyway? You're like this clump of ladylike serenity most of the time. If the house was burning down you'd sit there and sip tea until the firefighters broke in to save you." The more she thought about it, the more she found it really, really weird that Shizuru was so nervous she was pacing. "Shizuru, what's going on?" she asked, her voice softening. She was fairly certain that it was an important part of the dating thing—or, hell, even the best friend thing—that she was there when her sweetheart was worried or upset.

"I'm...expecting a letter in today's mail," Shizuru admitted, or at least halfway admitted, because it also wasn't in Shizuru's nature to share her personal concerns with anyone, not even Natsuki (heck, it had taken an alien god-thingy, dueling conspiracies, death threats to her beloved, and a major psychotic breakdown just to get a love confession out of her).

Natsuki, of course, was having none of this.

"It must be one heck of a letter to have you so riled up." A chirpy woof came from under the table. "See, even Duran agrees."

"Natsuki..."

"C'mon, out with it."

Shizuru sighed.

"I'm expecting to hear back from my mother," she said. "I wrote to my family last week informing them of our relationship, and I should receive my mother's response today."

"Last week?" Natsuki asked. "Shizuru, we moved into this house at the beginning of second year. That was like, eight months ago."

"I did not want to rush into things in case Natsuki—"

Natsuki glared at her.

"If you finish that sentence with 'decided she was not in love with me after all,' you are in serious trouble."

"It's not easy to accept when life hands you everything you've ever wanted on a silver platter!" Shizuru defended herself. "I did spend several years convinced that there was no possibility you would even tolerate my feelings, let alone return them."

"Not the point. And what's with all this letter stuff anyway? Don't you Fujino types know how to use the phone?"

"It would be improper to discuss important family matters over the telephone," Shizuru replied primly. "Significant communications require the formality of the written word."

"You people have a ritual for everything. I mean, you actually know what day to expect the response back, even though you're unsure enough of what the response will be to get all nervous over it."

"Manners and etiquette allow people to occupy the same space without interfering with each other's privacy or comfort level."

"...Is that your way of telling me to pick my dirty sweatshirts off the bedroom floor?"

"Ara, Natsuki does understand formal conversation!"

"Idiot. Besides, there's a rule in there somewhere that says if you peel clothes off me, then you have to pick them up yourself. There must be."

"Then I should stop taking off Natsuki's clothes?" Shizuru pouted.

"I...wouldn't go that far," Natsuki mumbled, feeling her cheeks grow hot. "But anyway, the mailman should be here any time now, and then you'll let me get my essay written, right?"

The word "mailman," though, was an unfortunate one to say aloud. Growling, Duran leapt to his feet and dashed towards the front door.

"Duran!" Natsuki windmilled for balance, since he'd half knocked her out of her chair. She caught herself by the edge of the table. "Blast it, Duran, get back here! He's not even here yet. And besides, we've talked about this!"

The age-old conflict between dog and mailman had never been an even one. On their side the postal workers of the world had the moral righteousness of knowing that they had a sacred trust to deliver the words of far-off people to one another. Against that, dogs had teeth. Duran, however, made things ridiculous. At least the average Doberman or Rottweiler didn't come with large-caliber firearms!

Not that Duran had ever shot a mail carrier before. Or even shot at one. Mostly. And it had been a Flash Cartridge anyway, so it wasn't like anyone could have been hurt. It wasn't Duran's fault the mailman had been blinded by the flare and tripped, spraining his ankle. And Duran hadn't bitten him, either, just put a paw on his chest and held him there until Shizuru had returned home from her morning lectures. It hadn't been much longer than an hour. And seriously, it wasn't Duran's fault postal uniform pants held a stain.

"Guy wasn't such a coward, he wouldn't have to worry about it," Natsuki completed her thoughts aloud.

"Natsuki..."

"Hey, boy!" she snapped. Duran turned his head quizzically. "I know it's instinct and all, but you leave the mailman alone today, do you understand me?"

He made a sort of growly-whimper noise that suggested he didn't like the idea.

"Do you want to be the one to explain to Shizuru that you caused her to miss her important letter?"

Duran whimpered and covered his eyes with his paws.

Kiyohime's sixth head had been following the proceedings with interest while the hydra lay curled up on her favorite purple pillow. She knew that Duran would mean well, but it was also possible that in the excitement of the moment, instinctive imperatives would override good sense. She didn't want to see her friend get in trouble or her mistress get upset.

She'd just have to help out, she decided.

~X X X~

Kintaro Tanaka whistled as he strolled up the front walk to the Kuga-Fujino residence. This was the place that had spawned horror stories back at the local post office, driving Manabe to demand to be put on another route, even though it was a longer one usually served by newbies working their way up. Bah! Dealing with aggressive dogs was part of a mail carrier's life. If Manabe couldn't hack it, he should have done something cushy like go to law school!

He took several letters out of his bag as he went up the steps and opened the screen door. Tanaka was just reaching for the mail slot when it was pushed open from the inside and a large purple snake thrust its head out.

Tanaka gasped in surprise, pulling his hand away. The snake reached up towards him, and suddenly three—no, four—no, five more snakes squirmed out, a whole nest of them writhing at him from the mail slot, mouths wide open as if they couldn't wait to sink their fangs into a nice, juicy mailman.

Yelping in fear, Tanaka jumped back, only to find his shoes scrabbling for purchase at the edge of the step. He fell back, landing on his rump in the grass next to the walk. He lost his grip on the letters, and they went flying like special delivery confetti. He scrambled backwards, heels cutting ruts in the grass until he managed to get his feet under him. Tanaka sprang upright, grabbed his letter bag in both hands, and bolted for the sidewalk like some kind of mythological monster was chasing him.

Kiyohime's heads looked at each other in confusion. All he'd had to do was put the mail in her mouths and she'd have taken it inside for him. There was certainly no need for such theatrics.

Duran was right, she decided. If postal workers were people who acted like that, then they were definitely suspicious characters who should not be trusted around the house.

~X X X~

"Well?" Natsuki demanded as Shizuru nervously tore open the slightly rumpled envelope. "Don't keep me in suspense. What does it say?"

"Um...'Congratulations on coming out of the closet. It's about time; all that angsty suffering in silence is undignified for a Fujino. Bring her to meet us at your next break if she can come.' Ara, ara, that was...succinct."

Natsuki grinned.

"I think I'm going to like your mom."

"Natsuki ikezu!"