M&M: A Tale of Two Delicious Brown Girls

[DanjaDoom]

Holy shit it's late, why am I up? Anyway, here's that Miki and molly side story I was talking about.
Expect some good ol' fashioned UST and whatnot. I plan on writing a few more entries to this, but I'm not sure how many exactly.

On a side note, I gotta say I'm at a slump with my other story, "Real." Just dunno what to write at this point. I'm not stopping, of course, but i'm running ideas through my head, and maybe even a rewrite. Curse you Scissorlips for being a better Suzu writer!(I kid, I kid)

Anyway, here it is you little jerks. Comments and critiques are appreciated!

Tale 2
Tale 3
Tale 4
Tale 5
Tale One:
“12... 13... 14... 15!”

With a grunt, I collapse onto the grass in a noodly heap of appendages and hair.

“Not bad, Mols! You even beat your last record! Piece of advice though, try to get lower to the ground, and keep your elbows outward. Either way, very impressive!”

She’s only saying that to cheer me up, but it’s alright. I know she means well.

I smile warmly up at her before choking and pursing my lips shut. A stray bead of sweat managed to find its way into my mouth. Gross.

She helps me to my feet with her right hand, an amused smirk on her face. I’m aching in places I can’t even pinpoint. Frankly, all I want is to lie down with a cold drink.

To my dismay, it appears she has other ideas.

“Miki, aren’t you tired yet? Don’t you want to take a break?”

She finishes lacing up her worn pair of black running shoes. This must be her fourth pair this year at least. I’ve never seen someone burn through shoes so fast.

“You kidding, Molly? That routine was just the appetizer. Here we have the main course!”

She stretches her arms across the length of the running track, the sun shining triumphantly in the background.

I hang my head in defeat and make my way over to the track.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How did I get here, oh god, I’m not good with running.

Any semblance of good form I may have had is quickly crushed. My limbs are swinging wildly to and fro, like a turtle try to pull itself off of it’s back. The analogy is rather fitting, considering I may as well be running with a turtle shell on my back.

Miki, on the other hand, is a paragon of athletics as usual. Every detail, from her stance to the way she moves her feet, is impeccable. It’s no wonder people call her the best runner in the school, save for the Ibarazaki girl.

Having long since given up my own routine, I take in the sight of Miki having her way with the tartan beneath her feet. The fluidity of her thighs, her legs, her feet are a breathtaking sight to behold.

It’s like poetry in motion.

She paces to a halt, stopping to catch her breath. The look in her eyes is one of utmost pride, a look that only comes when someone feels that they truly belong where they are. Here in the outside world, it’s Miki’s domain, her sanctuary. The look in her eyes is one few people can ever hope to achieve in their lifetimes. Miki has achieved it at the ripe age of eighteen.

She locks eyes with me and flashes a toothy grin. “Well, I’m hungry as a motherfucker. You?”

I've spent so much time with Miki her potty mouth doesn't even faze me... much. I return her smile and produce a few boxes of leftovers from my bag. She digs in like a buzzard eating carrion.

Thanks to her strict workout regimen, it seems like Miki can eat just about anything she wants and still keep her figure. I’m pretty envious.

We quickly finish of our leftover tempura, our stomachs yearning for something to sate them after our grueling exercises. I see Miki groan as she stretches out her shoulder, her face twisted in agitation.

“Something wrong?” I ask with concern.

“Need to get a new sports bra,” she winces, massaging her shoulder blade. She reaches into her shirt, feels around for a bit, a yanks a long, black strip of cloth which I realize with horror is her bra.

“Miki!” I yell mortified.

She gives me a quizzical look, which soon gives way to a Cheshire grin as she swings the underwear around like a whip.

“I am Bra-Woman! Fear my power, evil-doers!” she exclaims with the hammiest voice she can muster. I try in vain to yank the offending cloth away from her grasp. Unfortunately, the height difference between us proves to great.

“What’s wrong, just grab it, it’s right there!” she taunts playfully.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice a few students wandering the outskirts of the track, conversing with smiling faces.

“Miki, there are people coming!” I hiss.

This only fuels her impish delight. “ Aw, we should give ‘em a show!”
At this, she leans forward and puckers her lips, crossing her arms underneath her bust and puffing her chest out.

Even I feel myself go hot over the display. Luckily I snap out of it quick enough to take advantage of her showboating, grabbing and shoving the bra out of the sight of the converging students.

“You never let me have any fun, Mols!” she pouts.

“You have a really weird idea of fun, Miura!” I scold.

Her response is simply to laugh and ruffle through my hair. I feel an odd mixture of exasperation and indignation stew in me. Just because she combs her hair every other month doesn't mean she should mess up another girl’s hard work! These braids don’t just braid themselves!

I have half a mind to say something to her, and I’m about to, but I discover that she’s already making her way up the hilly path towards Yamaku.

“You coming?” she yells back with a wink.

I sigh and follow her up the path. Whatever. More time to plot my hair vengeance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Can we-argh!-stop for a bit?”

The soreness I felt before has now given way to dull pains in my shoulder and stomach.

“You alright?” Miki asks. Her tone is as cool as always, but I can sense the concern in her voice.

“J-just a little-oof!-sore... ok, alot sore.”

I hunch over against the wall, gripping my stomach tight. In hindsight, eating that tempura too fast and then jogging to keep up with Miki was probably a bad idea.

“You need to go to the nurse?”

“N-no, no, just... gonna lie down in my bed, watch some TV.” I offer a reassuring laugh that doesn't sound all that reassuring.

Miki looks incredulous, and rightfully so.

“Did you do those stretches I taught you this morning?”

She eyes me like a schoolteacher who just caught a student cheating on his test. I bite down on my lip while my eyes circle around the outline of her face.

“M-must have slipped my mind?” I reply with what I hope is a decent apology face.

She tuts and shakes her head. “I’m very disappointed in you Ms. Kapur; here I thought you were the responsible one! Don’t make me take over that role, I’m no good at it.”

I giggle a bit despite myself. Her eyes take on a strange look that I can’t place. She’s eyeing me all over my body, from my head to my prosthetic legs, almost like she’s... strategizing? I instinctively curl up a bit. I’m not completely comfortable being stared at like that, even by Miki.

Without warning, her left arm reaches under my knees, while her right circles around my underarms like a serpent. After a heave, she lifts me into her arms like the cover of a cheesy romance novel.

“Miki... what are you doing?”

“Taking you to the nurse, silly billy!” she replies with a roguish smile.

“Miki, I am NOT a toy, now put me down!”

“Aww, but I thought your tummy hurt? Most girls would kill to have someone carry them wherever they need to go!” she coos.

“Tramp girls maybe! Do I look like a tramp to you Miki Miura?!”

“Well, you do have some serious ‘come-hither’ lips going on. Plus those pigtails are pretty good fetish material.”

“That’s just disgusting Miki! I can walk perfectly-ow!”

My stomach protests my excessive yelling with a sharp pain. I can see Miki’s enjoying this way too much.

“Just hurry up and take me,” I whisper harshly.

Miki’s expression becomes on of mock surprise. “Why Molly, I never knew you thought of me that way!”

I cross my arms across my chest and make the sourest expression I can muster. It doesn't seem to faze Miki, and in fact only makes her stupid grin even stupider.

“You’re pretty cute when you’re angry.”

Her comment catches me off guard, to say the least. I look back at her face. Another roguish smile, this time accentuated with a raised brow. I roll my eyes in exasperation, hoping she doesn't catch the red going up in my cheeks.

Miki, satisfied that she’s tormented me enough, treks towards the nurses office.

“You’re not going to throw up on me are you?”

“Shut up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Well, it seems your ventricular has suffered a mild case of palpitation,” Nurse says.

At our confused looks, he continues with a toothy smile. “Your tummy’s all a-rumbly!”

Miki guffaws at my bedside. It figures she and the Nurse would share the same sense of humor.

“So I’ll be alright?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation into saner waters.

He nods and produces a clipboard.

“Just some minor cramps around your upper body and abdominal area. Take it easy for the rest of the day and you should be fine,” he says with a warm smile. “You should thank Ms. Miura here for caring for you in your time of need. It’s not everyday you find someone so willing to drop everything to help their friends!”

I gag a bit at Nurse’s praise, even more so as I watch Miki stick her chest out like a well endowed peacock.

“ Aw, you don’t have to thank me Molly.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

She looks playfully hurt, a fact which causes my mouth to twist into a smirk. Oh God, I’m turning into her.

We share a laugh, which soon gives way to silence as Nurse leaves to go copy papers.

“Thanks for inviting me out there today Miki,” I say sincerely.

“Don’t sweat it Molly, I’m glad you came out there with me.”

She smiles with equal sincerity.

As much as we may bicker and joke around with each other, these moments of real honesty are what I cherish the most.

More silence.

She looks down on her bandaged left stump with a vacant stare, almost as if her mind is buffering its contents. I hate calling it a “stump,” but Miki assures me she doesn't mind it.

“You know why I started running?” Miki asks. She doesn't break eye contact with her bandaged wrist as she says it.

“For the first few months after I got... this”

She holds up her left arm for emphasis.

“-I felt... well, I just felt out of whack, I guess. Just feeling this void where my hand used to be, it wasn't easy. One day, I just saw these girls looking at me at school, staring... laughing. The old me would have gone and kicked their little preppy asses, but... the new me felt weak. Worthless.
Like having a hand was my pass to fit in with everyone. It sounds stupid now that I say it but... I dunno.”

She looks to me, as if pleading me for support. Miki is never one for letting her emotions get the better of her, but I can see the edges of her eyes begin to puff. I nod, a friendly smile on my face.

“When I got home, I... I broke down. Started smashing everything in my room, screaming, blaming everyone short of myself for being a ‘gimp freak,’ as I called it. Two weeks later, I was packing was little wasn't broken and heading off on my way to ‘Cripple High.’”

I feel myself cringe at Miki’s tale. To think that a girl as cool and carefree as her could break down... well, it’s a discomforting thought.

She lets out a sad, weak laugh.

“Man I was a bitch back then.”

I place a hand on her shoulder. In an instant, I see her inhibitions evaporate, replaced with a warmth only a friendship between girls can produce.

“Once I got here,” she continues, “ I just got into running. Not really sure why exactly, I guess it was just... therapeutic?”

I giggle and nod with approval at her word choice.

“Just kept running and running. I got pretty good at it too! Not as good as Ibarazaki, but hey, can’t win ‘em all... It just felt right. I wasn't angry anymore. Hell, sometimes I didn't even notice I was missing a hand. It led to some... awkward situations.”

Her trademark impish beam returns to her face once again. “Want some examples?”

I groan and massage my temples. “Just when we were hitting an emotional milestone, too. You’re impossible Miki.”

“What can I say, I’m one of a kind,” she boasts as she massages her neck.

“Ahem!”

We turn to see Nurse has returned from his previous errand, now with a full stack of papers under his arm.

“Feeling any better Molly?”

In my chat with Miki, I failed to realize that the dull pain in my stomach had subsided.

“I am, actually.”

Nurse flashes his famous million watt smile.

“See, I told you a rest would do you some good! Oh, and by the way, I have a little something for you.”

Seeing our bemused looks, he produces a hastily folded letter, lightly crumpled from its stay in Nurse’s coat pocket.

“It’s from Ms. Hakamichi. She seemed rather disquieted.”

“When isn't she?” Miki asks.

Even Nurse laughs at this. He hands the slip of paper to me as he makes his way to his computer.

Miki and I read over it in silence.

“To Ms. Miura and Ms. Kapur.

The removal and subsequent mishandling of undergarments is strictly forbidden as stated in the Student Guidelines Handbook, Section 3, Dress Code. Further offenses will be met with appropriate disciplinary actions. Contrary to what my compatriot Shiina Mikado tells me, it was not ‘hilarious’ to hear a student member of Class 3-3 shouting ‘Bra-Woman!’ in front of impressionable first years.

Don’t do it again.

Sincerely, your student class representative, Shizune Hakamichi”

[acewing905]

Delicious, indeed. Your depiction of Miki is... interesting.
Molly Kapur is the front left corner girl without legs, right? I can't remember where I saved the class 3-3 roster image, and can't find the original post either. :/

[Grayjack]

Delicious, indeed. Your depiction of Miki is... interesting.
Molly Kapur is the front left corner girl without legs, right? I can't remember where I saved the class 3-3 roster image, and can't find the original post either. :/

Yes she is. Here's the picture.

http://shimmie.katawa-shoujo.com/post/view/1827/

[nemz]

mocha-scented yuri goggles, check.

[DanjaDoom]

Delicious, indeed. Your depiction of Miki is... interesting.
Molly Kapur is the front left corner girl without legs, right? I can't remember where I saved the class 3-3 roster image, and can't find the original post either. :/

I think it's cool to have a nice Miki out there as opposed to the total bitch Miki in Doomish's story, lol

[Scissorlips]

Curse you Scissorlips for being a better Suzu writer!(I kid, I kid)

D:
Lots of writers will espouse the benefits of having a well drawn out plan for your story. That's really too much effort for me so I kind of just keep going and pray that I don't run out of ideas to help me get to each major plot point. I'm sure you'll find a way to move your story forward soon, don't worry.

How did I get here, oh god, I’m not good with running.

I chuckled. This was a really cute story, Miki behaved pretty much how I would expect her to, and I can easily imagine Molly as being the kind of character you've painted her as. I always enjoy little scenes of other stuff happening at Yamaku that you wouldn't normally get a look at during the game. One thing though about the nurse mentioning ventricular palpitations and stomach rumbling, when people usually use "ventricles", they almost always use it in relation to the heart. Any other use of the term warrants a couple extra words to clarify.

[DanjaDoom]

Curse you Scissorlips for being a better Suzu writer!(I kid, I kid)

D:
Lots of writers will espouse the benefits of having a well drawn out plan for your story. That's really too much effort for me so I kind of just keep going and pray that I don't run out of ideas to help me get to each major plot point. I'm sure you'll find a way to move your story forward soon, don't worry.

How did I get here, oh god, I’m not good with running.

I chuckled. This was a really cute story, Miki behaved pretty much how I would expect her to, and I can easily imagine Molly as being the kind of character you've painted her as. I always enjoy little scenes of other stuff happening at Yamaku that you wouldn't normally get a look at during the game. One thing though about the nurse mentioning ventricular palpitations and stomach rumbling, when people usually use "ventricles", they almost always use it in relation to the heart. Any other use of the term warrants a couple extra words to clarify.

I'm the exact same way, lol. I'll start thinking about which direction I want my story to go in, come up blank, and just wing it. I actually started work on my next chapter tonight And as a side note, I kinda use your story as a launch pad whenever I want to get writing. I take a look at it, yell out "THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!" and get my ass to google docs. A battle of the Snoozu's, if you will.

Not to be a snob here, but apparently the latin word for stomach is ventricular, according to Wikipedia, lol. I just tried to make it sound as fancy as possible, make it very "Nurse-like." Thanks for the feedback Scissor

[Scissorlips]

I'm the exact same way, lol. I'll start thinking about which direction I want my story to go in, come up blank, and just wing it. I actually started work on my next chapter tonight And as a side note, I kinda use your story as a launch pad whenever I want to get writing. I take a look at it, yell out "THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!" and get my ass to google docs. A battle of the Snoozu's, if you will.

Not to be a snob here, but apparently the latin word for stomach is ventricular, according to Wikipedia, lol. I just tried to make it sound as fancy as possible, make it very "Nurse-like." Thanks for the feedback Scissor

Ahaha! I, uh, would be lying if I said I haven't felt that way too, although I confess that I haven't read your story because I try very hard not to be influenced by other people and risk even accidentally ripping them off.
And that's sort of an example of why you can't just find a fancier word for something and replace it. Coming from a little bit of a medical background myself, I can tell you that nurse wouldn't say something like that. I'm happy to be able to provide some feedback, from what I can tell you've improved quite a bit since starting out here and it's great to see. Keep it up. (:

[DanjaDoom]

I'm the exact same way, lol. I'll start thinking about which direction I want my story to go in, come up blank, and just wing it. I actually started work on my next chapter tonight And as a side note, I kinda use your story as a launch pad whenever I want to get writing. I take a look at it, yell out "THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!" and get my ass to google docs. A battle of the Snoozu's, if you will.

Not to be a snob here, but apparently the latin word for stomach is ventricular, according to Wikipedia, lol. I just tried to make it sound as fancy as possible, make it very "Nurse-like." Thanks for the feedback Scissor

Ahaha! I, uh, would be lying if I said I haven't felt that way too, although I confess that I haven't read your story because I try very hard not to be influenced by other people and risk even accidentally ripping them off.
And that's sort of an example of why you can't just find a fancier word for something and replace it. Coming from a little bit of a medical background myself, I can tell you that nurse wouldn't say something like that. I'm happy to be able to provide some feedback, from what I can tell you've improved quite a bit since starting out here and it's great to see. Keep it up. (:

Yeah, to be honest, I haven't really read your story either, for the same reason, hehe.

And thanks, that means a lot!

[DanjaDoom]

Alrighty, so here's the next installment of the series. To be honest, this past week I haven't been in much of a writing kind of mood. Nonetheless, I finished this chapter because I already have plans for the next chapter. Let's just say they're...kinky.

Enjoy

Tale 2

“T-Takashi?”

He looks back from his painting, a mildly irritated expression on his face.

“Yes?”

I take deep, calming breaths to steel my nerves. I’ve been going over this moment in my head for almost two weeks now. I can’t afford to lose focus now.

“Would you like to...maybe...”

“Maybe?” he asks, clearly eager to return to his painting.

“Go out to the Shanghai for tea tomorrow night around seven?” I blurt out with rapid-fire speed.

His expression softens a bit. I heard through the teenage girl grapevine that Takashi has a soft spot for coffee shops and other “artsy” things. Which makes sense, considering he’s, well, an artist.

“I guess I could go,” he says cooly.

“T-thanks!” I answer with a sweet, probably very awkward smile.

He nods before quickly returning to his canvas. I take a quick peek over his shoulder to view it. It’s a rather abstract piece, a wild clash of blues and greens. In the center I can make out the figure of a curvy woman in a very...provocative stance.

He turns back to me with a questioning look. Not wanting to disturb his art, I smile politely and take my leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“A date you say?” Miki asks, potato chip bits catapulting in all directions from her mouth.

I grin from ear-to-ear, despite the food particles flying in my face. I’m just in that good a mood.

“You heard right!” I say proudly. Why shouldn’t I be proud? Dating is, after all, the first step into womanhood for any respectable Japanese girl.

Miki smiles like an American who just saw his son wrangle a cow, or whatever Americans do for fun.

“My little girl’s growing up!” she squeals, pinching my cheeks and putting me into a bear hug.

I pry myself out of her death grip and adjust my bow. “Miki, calm down! For all you know, I could be entering into a polygamist sect!”

This halts her, though I’m pretty sure it’s due to her not knowing what “polygamist” means. I giggle and pat her on the head. Brains one, brawn zero.

Miki leans in like the gossiping schoolgirl that she is, eager to hear the juicy details.“So, who’s the lucky sumbitch?”

“Takashi Maeda,” I beam proudly.

Miki’s jovial expression noticeably sours at hearing this. “Takashi, huh?”

She attempts to keep her voice level, but the displeasure is evident in her voice.

“Yeah, from class...” I answer cautiously. Maybe she has him confused for another Takashi?

No such luck, unfortunately. Her expression of vexation still lingers.

“Molly, I’ve heard some things...”

“Miki, you know how I feel about your gossip!” I chastise.

“You don’t know him like I do, Mols! I hung out with the guy a while back. He’s a total asshat, and he treats other people like dirt. Trust me Molly, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

The usual mischief in her voice is gone. She actually sounds pretty sincere about this.

“Frankly, I think he’s a smug little snake in the grass.”

I think this over for a bit. I have no reason to not trust Miki. She may not be the most upstanding student at Yamaku, but she’s honest, sometimes brutally so. Then again, I’ve never actually seen Takashi do the things she described. I haven’t seen him talk to anyone, in fact, let alone the girls at school.

“Well, this was a while ago Miki,” I respond. “Maybe he’s changed?”

Miki shrugs, not too sure of this suggestion. “It’s possible, but I highly doubt it.”

Great, now my good mood has taken a serious downturn. I sigh and tug my braids in frustration. This whole boy/girl dynamic is so confusing.

Miki catches on to my worries and pats me on the shoulder, bolstering my mood.

“Look, don’t worry about it too much. Besides, you’re the smart one in this equation, why listen to me?”

I smile at her self-depreciating quip.

“Alright, I’ve got it. I’ll go on the date with Takashi tomorrow night, and I’ll just see where things go from there! Sound like a plan?” I ask.

Miki doesn’t seem one hundred percent convinced, but nods her head regardless. I suddenly come to a realization that deflates my happy mood all over again.

“Oh, Miki, I’m so sorry... Tomorrow’s our movie night, isn’t it?”

Every other tuesday night, the two of us get together to watch some movies in our dorms, most times well past the nightly curfew. I’m not too sure why we do it, but it’s been a tradition of ours for a while.

Miki waves a dismissive hand at my worries.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Mols. You can watch movies with me anytime you want, but it’s not everyday you get to go on a date!” she says with toothy smile.

“You sure you won’t be lonely while I’m gone?”

“O Contra-Air, Miss Molly!”

She leads me over to her mini-fridge, which I discover is filled to the brim with quart-sized containers, their edges stained with a rainbow-ish hue of creams.

“Miki, where did you get all this ice cream?” It’s my turn to be worried now. I’ve never fully put it past Miki to steal, especially ice cream. She’s got a mean sweet tooth.

“Some of the freezers at the Aura Mart broke down a few days ago, so they were selling the ice cream off super cheap. Long story short, I have enough ice cream to last me a good month.”

“It’s not cold enough in your fridge to keep the ice cream frozen, how do you plan on making it last a month?” I ask, eyebrow raised.

“By eating it all tomorrow night, of course,” she answers as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I shake my head in disbelief. I could know Miki for another hundred years, and I’ll still not understand everything about her.

“Well, enjoy tearing your stomach inside-out, Miura. I’ve got a date to prepare for!” I say.

Miki still doesn’t look too happy about the idea of my going out on a date with Takashi, but she keeps these thoughts to herself.

“Good luck tomorrow Molly. And use protection!” she calls after me.

My glare makes her hide her face behind a quart of cookies and cream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Phone, keys, money. Is that everything? I don’t want to take too much, or else there will be a big lump on my side. Let’s see, I could most likely go without a phone. But what if there are prowlers out on the streets and I need to call for help? Oh god, now I have to worry about night rapists along with my date! This is absolutely terri-

Stop. Take a deep breath. Now exhale. Good, now your’re calm again.

Dexterously clasping on my pendant, I check myself in the mirror. A black sundress, stopped just above my knees, with a yellow floral pattern. I’ve opted to wear solid stockings underneath my dress. It’s a bit unnecessary; the Shanghai is frequented almost exclusively by residents of Yamaku and the surrounding town, and most all of them have seen my prosthetics. Still, for principles sake, I’ll opt to cover them up for the night.

On my feet, a stylish pair of flats to accent the dress, and on my face a small bit of eyeliner and blush. I’ve hear that Takashi dislikes girls with makeup.

Satisfied with my clothing choices, I make my way out the door, making sure to lock up behind me.

The sun is roughly halfway down the horizon now. It shouldn’t go fully down for another hour, plenty of time to make it to the Shanghai.

The mountain path towards the little town at the base is astoundingly beautiful, a place that just makes you want to confess your love for everyone and everything in sight.

The foreboding thought of Miki’s warnings, however, serve to burst my proverbial bubble.

Gah, get ahold of yourself Molly! Worrying about your date won’t do anything to help, not to mention it’ll give you wrinkles.

I do my best to block any doubts from my head. I’m going to have a good time, and I’m going to drink a crapload of good tea. So long as I block a certain tanned track star from my mind, I’ll be all set to go.

The rest of the walk to the teahouse is spent fighting off images of Miki telling me what a terrible idea this whole thing is. By the time I reach the front doors, my mind is in full on panic mode again.

Steady girl, steady...

Putting on the coolest face I can muster, I step through the doors with an almost undue confidence.

Only a few tables are occupied, mostly by older people looking for a quiet evening in an already quiet mountain town. Considering he’s the only one here under the age of sixty, it’s not hard to spot Takashi. He’s gone with a suit almost identical to his school uniform, save for its black coloring and lack of a tie. He’s still wearing his beret, I notice.

“Good evening, Takashi,” I say with as much elegance as humanly possible. He offers a curt nod in my direction, and motions for me to take a seat across from him.

Ever the pundit, Takashi looks me over with an analytical eye, scouring me for any imperfections or blemishes.

“You’re straps lopsided,” he says, taking a sip of his tea...which he apparently didn’t bother to order for me.

“Oh, uhm, thank you,” I cough, trying to hide my botheration.

“What do you want to order?” he asks. Well, at least he’s...trying to be gentlemanly.

“The red velvet muffins look pretty good, don’t they?” I ask, pleased to be making any progress, however small.

He scans the makeshift menu for a bit, his face creasing more and more with annoyance as he looks further down.

“Red velvet stains your teeth, fudge ruins your caloric balance, and frankly everything else just looks unappetizing.”

He tosses the menu aside with a “hmph,” lazily stirring his tea with a nearby spoon.

“I suddenly find I’m no longer hungry,” he states.

I’m flabbergasted at his heated vendetta against desserts. As I scan my own menu, I can feel his eyes watching me over, ready to judge whatever choice I make with a disapproving sneer. I place the menu aside for now.

Nonetheless, he returns to his tea-swirling within seconds.

“So, Takashi, how has your art been going?” I ask him, doing my best to steer the course of our conversation.

His face noticeably brightens at this. “Well, just the other day I was in talks with the head of the fine arts department from Tokyo University just the other day! He was also talking to that weird Tezuka girl, but I simply can’t fathom why he would choose her amateurish work. Anyway, he told me about-”

My facade of eager listening is beginning to falter, and fast. Seriously, how long can one guy talk about himself? He’s told me about his love of Fauvism, his theories on why pointillism is for “plebeians”, and has mocked just about all of the “pupils” that he supposedly tutors.

My patience is about to wear thin when salvation comes in the form of the bespectacled waitress.

“Hi there Yuuko!” I wave. Truthfully, I’m just glad to have someone else to talk to.

“Oh, h-hi there Molly. Uhm, what can I get the two of you this evening?”

Despite her timid appearance, Yuuko is a diligent worker who takes her job seriously. Of course, she still squeaks like a field mouse whenever she fumbles an order or forgets something.

“I’ll just take some green tea and a carrot cake, please,” I answer.

Takashi adjusts his collar a bit, and his lips split into a devious smirk. Uh-oh.

“I’ll take a Tong Sui with triple fudge smoothie, please. You do have that, don’t you?”

Yuuko looks like she’s ready to keel over. She tears through the menu like a madwoman, searching for any sign of the ridiculous dish.

“W-w-we don’t have that, I’m afraid...” she whispers. Takashi, for his part, looks rather pleased with his deed. He rights himself steadfastly, putting on a face of cold disappointment.

“Pity,” he says, “Then just get me a slice of cheesecake. You do have that, at least?”

Yuuko nods and trudges back to the kitchen as if she were in a funeral procession. I glare disapprovingly in the direction of my date.

“That wasn’t very nice, Takashi.”

He rolls his eyes in response. “Come on now Molly, it was just a joke. Besides, what kind of tea house doesn’t have Tong Sui available? It’s pathetic is what is it.”

I grimace and lock my eyes on the menu. I’m fairly certain Takashi can hear me grumbling under my breath. At least I hope he can.

Soon enough, Yuuko returns and sets our orders down with a flourish, giving Takashi a sour look before returning to the back. I know Yuuko would probably be horrified at the thought, but I find myself wishing she scratched her hair over his cake.

“How’s the cake?” I ask him. No reason I can’t keep this date at least cordial.

He shrugs and picks at his meal like it was a dying jellyfish.

“I’ve had better,” he complains.

Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I can see an apparition of Miki shaking her head at the scene.

We consume our respective dishes in silence. Takashi looks like he’d rather be dead than be here right now. It’s rather disheartening.

Our meals finished, we push aside our plates and sit there in silence. No talking, no laughter. Just silence.

“Well, this was all well and good, but it’s about time for me to head out. You’ll be footing the bill, correct?”

I shoot my head up, thinking that I didn’t hear him correctly the first time.

“Excuse me?” I ask.

He gives me a curious look, as if I just asked what color the sky was.

“Well, if I took time out of my busy schedule to come and meet you for sub-par tea, you should at least pay, now shouldn’t you?”

Alright, screw being cordial.

“You treat me to the worst date I’ve ever had in my life, and you expect me to pay for BOTH of our meals?”

The silent rage in my voice is enough to make Takashi break out in a sweat. It’s even making me nervous.

“W-well I-I wasn’t really going to-”

“Shut it”

“Yes ma’am.” He sits stock still, like a schoolboy having his backside threatened by a paddle.

“Now listen to me,” I growl. “I’m going to walk home now. You’re going to pay Yuuko, and you’re going to tip her damn well for being a rude, arrogant, self-centered jerkwad. You get all that?”

He nods quickly, his neck stiff as a board. A few people have started staring at the scene, apparently fearful for the life of the earless artist being accosted by the legless Indian girl.

With one last look of wrath towards Takashi, who squeaks in response, I head towards the exit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My impressive display of bravado ran dry once I left the building.

Now I’m cold, hungry, and thoroughly miffed. I feel hot tears trail down my cheeks and mingle with my eyeliner. I slap it away angrily.

I make it to the campus with not a single snobby artist in sight. I can’t imagine how miserable I look right now, stumbling my way up the stairwell like a well-dressed zombie.

I don’t really care about other people right now, however. There’s just one person I want to talk to right now.

I can already see a maelstrom of lights and sounds coming from underneath the door. I’ve lost count of how many times she’s been told by the exasperated staff to keep it down. Sure enough, she’s wolfing down a quart of nutty chocolate sugar cone. It’s her favorite. She’s watching some cop show that I’ve never heard of, but judging by the yells and bangs, it’s something pretty violent.

She finally catches sight of me, and the worry on her face is evident.

I expect her to instantly jump to my side, hugging the breath out and threatening to beat Takashi to a juicy pulp..

What I don’t expect is for her to remain silent, pat the seat cushion next to her, and offer me a spoon.

I smile at the display, take the spoon and help myself to a quart with gusto. I feel her free arm go around me, taking me in a friendly embrace. I wolf down so much ice cream a trail of vanilla runs from my lip. She looks at me and gives me a toothy, chocolate-stained grin.

No I-told-you-so’s. No sarcastic asides. Just the two of us watching a cheesy cop show.

That’s the only date I need.

[nemz]

At least it ended on a happy note. Takashi does look like a smug asshole, though I imagine he'll fit much better in an art school than Rin.

[DanjaDoom]

At least it ended on a happy note. Takashi does look like a smug asshole, though I imagine he'll fit much better in an art school than Rin.

True that. Really, the only reason he dislikes Rin is that he secretly loves her. I foresee some great hate sex in the future.

[Total Destruction]

If I didn't already have a OTP (Gawd, why do I know that acronym?), this'd be it. Hawt. Also very well-written. Miki rules.

Takashi in this fic reminds me why I decided wasting my time with an art degree was a bad frggin' idea. Deal with these insufferable assholes to wind up becoming one? Screw. That.

Respect!

(Also, your user name is fun to say. )

[DanjaDoom]

If I didn't already have a OTP (Gawd, why do I know that acronym?), this'd be it. Hawt. Also very well-written. Miki rules.

Takashi in this fic reminds me why I decided wasting my time with an art degree was a bad frggin' idea. Deal with these insufferable assholes to wind up becoming one? Screw. That.

Respect!

(Also, your user name is fun to say. )

DBG's (Delicious Brown Girl) 4lyfe bro. Yeah, I figured even in Japan art students would be insufferable.

Thank's for the compliments, it always boosts my mood to see people give feedback on my stories (hint, hint)

[Total Destruction]

There's like two Suzu stories going on at the same time, and you're at the helm one of them. This is interesting. Hahah.

Yeah, I'll be keeping an eye on ya.