No subject

"Is that him?" Fuuka.

"I think so..." Mrs. Ayase.

"What's he dressed up as?" Asagi.

"I'm...not sure. But...it's definitely...interesting." Mrs. Ayase.

"Did he really do something weird to his hair?" Ena.

"You could say that..." Mrs. Ayase.

"Okay, I gotta see this." Asagi.

"Me too!" Ena.

"I'll...be down in a bit." Fuuka.

Asagi appeared in the door and stared openly at him. "Okay, no WAY this is 
Koiwai-san."

"It's me," Koiwai replied.

Ena peeked out behind her sister, and her eyes widened. "Woooooooooow." She 
blushed.

"Don't go there, Ena-chan," Asagi said, whapping her sister on the head. 
"Just...don't go there." She shook her head. "Anyway, Gomez-chan is on her 
way down any minute..."

"'Gomez-chan'?" Koiwai echoed.

Asagi rolled her eyes. "It's that wig, she thinks she looks like that 
American girl with the big hair."

"I...see."

And then Fuuka appeared, and even though he'd seen the costume already, he 
wasn't quite prepared for just how well it fit her.

--------------------------------------

Fuuka stared in open shock and awe.

The man at the door looked absolutely nothing like Koiwai. Black boots, 
tight black leather pants, two leather belts, one adorned with a large 
silver buckle depicting a ferocious lion's face, a white shirt, a pewter 
pendant on a leather thong around his neck, and a black leather jacket, worn 
open, with white fur trim at the shoulders and waist. Black leather gloves 
and an enormous sheathed prop sword slung across his back completed the 
ensemble. His stringy black hair had been dyed, fluffed, and teased; it was 
now a warm brown color and had been sculpted into an improbable style 
normally only seen on rock stars.

It wasn't remotely Koiwai. But it looked DAMN good, and Fuuka was struck 
speechless.

--------------------------------------

Koiwai was awed at the sight of Fuuka in her costume.

It wasn't nearly as ornate as his; a low-cut black bodice and matching 
shorts, with a dark blue satiny miniskirt worn over them. Black ankle-high 
boots. An ankle-length blue sweater...thing...which was mostly worn open, 
save for one button, fastened directly across the chest. The 
sweater-dress-thing itself was sleeveless, but she wore matching ribbed 
"sleeves" that extended from elbow to wrist. A thin black satin armband was 
tied around her upper left arm, and she wore a simple but pretty necklace.

And a black wig that, while not as long as Asagi's hair, was still 
considerably longer and more voluminous than Fuuka's own natural hair.

"You look..." Koiwai began.

"Like someone completely different?" Fuuka asked.


"Well...yeah."

"So do you," Fuuka said.

"Well, you two ARE going to a costume party," Asagi said. "I mean, isn't 
that kind of the point?"

"Well...yeah..."

"I suppose..."

"Then I'd say the two of you are set," Asagi teased.

"What ARE you dressed as, anyway?" Ena asked.

"I honestly have no idea," Koiwai said. "I think they're characters from 
some video game or something..." He shrugged. "I honestly just picked the 
first costume he showed me that didn't look like regular clothes and had a 
decent matching outfit for Fuuka-chan."

Fuuka laughed. "That's just like you, Kotashi..."

"Well, if you'd been there when I was there--"

"I doubt I'd have picked anything better," Fuuka said with a shrug. "Most of 
the manga I know, everyone just wears normal clothes, and I don't really do 
video games, so..."

A horn beeped at the curb.

"Our ride's here," Koiwai said.

"You two have a good time," Mrs. Ayase said. "Be back by midnight!"

"Midnight?" Asagi asked. "That's awfully generous..."

"It's because I trust Koiwai-san," Mrs. Ayase replied. With a hard look at 
the man in question, she added, "Don't give me cause to doubt that trust."

"Of...of course not," Koiwai stammered. "Well then, we'd best be off..." He 
took hold of Fuuka's hand and walked her down to the gate.

"They DO make a cute couple..." Ena sighed.

"Yeah, but a couple of what?" Asagi retorted.

"Mou, Oneechan..."


--------------------------------------

Koiwai stowed his prop sword in the trunk of Yanda's car, next to the 
slightly larger prop sword Yanda himself had obtained. He opened the door to 
let Fuuka into the car, then got in himself.

"Hey Senpai, lookin' sharp," Yanda said. "So this is your high school cutie, 
huh? She IS easy on the eyes."

Yanda's date whapped him on the shoulder. "Eyes on me or on the road, 
Yasuda-san."

Fuuka blushed. "Um...thanks for the compliment, Yanda-san...or Yasuda-san, 
whichever..."

"Just call him Yanda, he doesn't deserve a -san," Koiwai drawled.

"You wanna walk, Senpai?"

"You wanna pay me back the 20,000 yen for that costume now?"

Yanda grunted. "Like I said, let's get goin'."

Fuuka laughed. She then turned to examine the other woman in the car. 
Something seemed slightly familiar about her, but she couldn't decide if it 
was the woman herself, or the costume. Even with her limited knowledge of 
shounen series, the iconic pale blue hair and obscenely tight plugsuit of 
Ayanami Rei from Evangelion was unmistakable, and this woman filled out her 
costume quite nicely indeed.

"And what do we call YOU, neesan?" Fuuka asked.

"Huh? Oh...Yui. Just...Yui," the woman replied, fidgeting.

"Yui, huh? Well, nice to meet you. I'm Ayase Fuuka."

She seemed to stiffen at that. "Fuuka-san, nice to meet you."

"An' this leather-headed jerk back here is my senpai," Yanda introduced.

"Koiwai Kotashi, nice to meet you."

"Ah...right, Koiwai-san. Very nice to meet you."

They made small talk on the drive to the party; Yanda's date seemed 
incredibly shy and nervous. Once they arrived, they unloaded their props 
from the trunk. Yanda gave Koiwai's prop sword a grimace of distaste. "A gun 
on a sword? Really? What idiot came up with that?"

"Whatever idiot came up with whoever the hell I'm supposed to be, I guess," 
Koiwai replied.

The four of them walked up to the condo where the party was being held, and 
were greeted by a plump, red-faced, heavily-bearded American who was dressed 
as a character Koiwai recognized from his own childhood: Trunks from 
Dragonball.

"Man, I used to love Dragonball when I was a kid," Koiwai chortled. "Nice 
costume."

"Thanks," the American said. "I'm Cooper Brown, I'll be your host for this 
evening; don't worry about shoes, costumes aren't complete without the 
footwear!" He smiled genially at everyone. "Love the costumes. You make an 
excellent Squall!"

Koiwai bowed. "Thank you."

"And what a lovely Rinoa you have with you."

Fuuka smiled. "Thanks."

"And Yasuda-san, I didn't know you were into Bleach!"

"Ah...I wouldn't say 'into', but it seems pretty interesting."

"And a classic Rei! Very nice!"

"Thank you."

"Well, come on in, everyone! There's refreshments, we're about to start up 
some music...I've got karaoke on tap for later, once everyone's a little 
loose..." He wandered off to greet some more guests, and the four of them 
looked around at the party.

"It looks like an otaku convention exploded in here," Yanda remarked.

"No kidding," Koiwai replied. He turned to Fuuka and offered his arm. "Well, 
'Rinoa', shall we mingle?"

"Sure thing, 'Squall'," Fuuka replied with a giggle. They waved to Yanda and 
his date and wandered into the party.

"Is it me, or does that lady seem really nervous?" Koiwai asked quietly.

"Yeah, I wonder what's up with that," Fuuka agreed. "Maybe it's the costume? 
I mean, if I was dressed like that and going out in public..."

"If you were dressed like that, you'd be a walking traffic disaster," Koiwai 
said with a grin.

Fuuka blushed. "Kotashi...mou..."

They wandered over to the refreshment table and got some cookies and some 
punch, then stood off to the side watching the various partygoers. "Do you 
actually know any of these people?" Fuuka asked.

"I doubt it," Koiwai replied. "I'm only vaguely familiar with a few of 
Yanda's coworkers."

"He doesn't seem quite as nasty as the stories I've heard."

"He's behaving himself tonight," Koiwai replied. "Believe me, Yanda can be 
an incredible jerk."

"Then why are you friends with him?" Fuuka asked, tilting her head.

Koiwai sighed. "It's more like...I feel responsible for him. And it's a 
story I really don't want to get into."

"Okay," Fuuka nodded, letting the matter drop. She sipped her punch. "Whoa, 
this is pretty good."

Koiwai drank his also, and nodded. "Yeah, it really is. I wonder if this is 
homemade or if he bought it..."

Some music was playing that neither of them were particularly interested in, 
so they wandered around, greeting some of the other partygoers, commenting 
on costumes, and every so often they headed back to the refreshment table to 
reload on cookies, chips, and punch.

About a half hour after they arrived, their host announced that the karaoke 
system was ready to roll. Fuuka turned to Koiwai and grinned. "Karaoke! 
You've gotta sing."

"Oooooh no."

"Oh yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"You really don't want to hear me sing."

"I really really do."

"Okay, but you gotta do it too..."

The two of them wandered over to the karaoke stage, and Fuuka nudged Koiwai, 
bumping him up into the spotlight. "Ah, good, we have a volunteer to start 
this off!" Brown enthused amiably, clapping his hands.


Koiwai sighed. "If I gotta," he muttered. He looked over the selection in 
the machine and frowned. "Oi, don't you have anything *good* in here?"

Brown frowned. "It's all good."


"I don't know any of this crap," Koiwai replied. "You're American, aren't 
you? Isn't there anything American in here?"

The host blinked. "Well...yeah, there is, I just wasn't expecting..." He 
walked over and changed the selection menu on the karaoke machine.

Koiwai scanned the list for a minute, then grinned. "THAT."

"That?!" Brown asked. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Spin it."

For the next few minutes, the party was treated to the spectacle of Koiwai 
singing an energetic, if not entirely on-key or on-vocals, rendition of 
Matchbox 20's "Disease". When he was done, Fuuka clapped and cheered louder 
than anyone.

"That was pretty good!" she exclaimed.

"That's only because you don't speak English," Koiwai said. "Trust me, it 
was bad."

"No it wasn't," Brown said from behind them. "But for that, now your Rinoa 
owes me a song, and you know which one."

"I do?" Fuuka asked. Without further ado, she was dragged onto the stage and 
forced to sing "Eyes On Me".

After she sang, she rejoined Koiwai, confused. "I don't get it."


"Me neither. Punch reload?"

"Yeah."

By their fifth cup of punch, Fuuka was looking a little wobbly. Koiwai 
frowned. "Something's...off here."

"What's wrong, Kotashi?" Fuuka filled her cup and started to tip it back...

Koiwai stopped her. "No more," he said.

"Huh? Why not?"

"This stuff's spiked," he replied, frowning. "I dunno why I didn't notice 
before."

"Spiked?" Fuuka asked, blinking.

"Alcohol. There's alcohol in it."

"Oh." Fuuka blinked dazedly, trying to process that. "...am I drunk?"

"A little," Koiwai replied. "Anyway, maybe we should stick to the colas for 
the rest of the party. I don't want to explain a drunken teenager to your 
parents."

"Good idea," Fuuka replied with a hiccup.

The rest of the party was more or less a bust; more karaoke, some incredibly 
lame para-para dancing, and very little real mingling; only the people who 
were drunk seemed to be having a really good time, and Koiwai was determined 
to stay sober. Whatever was in the punch wasn't bad enough to get him more 
than a little buzzed, but Fuuka was quite clearly past buzzed. He grimaced 
inwardly; explaining this was not going to be fun, and he had a feeling this 
might be their last date...

--------------------------------------

Koiwai drove home; Yanda was completely smashed, and so was his date. He 
dropped them off at their respective abodes, then drove himself and Fuuka 
home, telling Yanda to pick his car up the following day.

Fuuka had sobered up a little, but was still obviously off. "Funny," she 
mused. "That apartment building where we dropped off Yui-san..."

"Yeah?" Koiwai asked.

"I'm pretty sure that's where Miura-chan lives."


"Is that so?" Koiwai asked. "Well, maybe Miura will know who she was, then, 
if she's one of her neighbors."

"Maybe." Fuuka belched. "Oh...oh god, I'm sorry..."


"It's okay."

Then Fuuka doubled over and threw up on the floor of the car. "Oh god..."

"Don't worry about it, it's Yanda's car after all."

When they arrived home (at 11:30), Koiwai helped Fuuka through the gate and 
up to the door. Her mother opened the door, and looked a bit alarmed at the 
sight of Koiwai supporting Fuuka.

"I'm really, really sorry about this," Koiwai said without preamble. "She 
got into some spiked punch and I didn't realize it until it was too late. 
It's completely my fault. I should've known the punch was alcoholic..."

Mrs. Ayase frowned. "I see."

"Don't blame Kotashi, Mom," Fuuka said. "He took good care of me once he 
realized I was...urp...getting drunk..."

"I'll stick around until she falls asleep," Koiwai offered. "I feel really 
awful about this."

Mrs. Ayase sighed. "It's hardly your fault, Koiwai-san, and I appreciate you 
taking care of her."

Koiwai smiled. "Hey, she's my girl. What kind of louse would I be if I 
didn't look after my girl?"

Fuuka blinked, then looked at him, eyes wide, and blushed. "Kotashi..."

Mrs. Ayase smiled. "Come on in; I'll drag Asagi down here to get Fuuka-chan 
changed into her pajamas, then I'll put on some coffee. Yotsuba-chan's 
asleep in Ena-chan's room."

Koiwai bowed. "Thanks for your hospitality."

--------------------------------------

As luck would have it, Koiwai met Mr. Ayase that night. It was not the most 
auspicious of first meetings.

"So, you're Koiwai-san," Mr. Ayase asked, looking over the leather-clad, 
teased-haired man with obvious distaste.

"Ah...this isn't me," Koiwai said, gesturing to his attire. "These clothes, 
this hair...this REALLY isn't me."

"Koiwai-san and Fuuka-chan went to a costume party tonight, dear," Mrs. 
Ayase explained. "I told you that, remember?"

"Oh...right, so you did," Mr. Ayase grunted, accepting a cup of tea from his 
wife.

"How's Fuuka?" Koiwai asked.

"Asleep," Mrs. Ayase said. "She's not going to be a pretty sight in the 
morning."

Koiwai grimaced. "I am really, REALLY sorry about that."

Mr. Ayase frowned. "What happened?"

"Spiked punch at the party," Koiwai said. "I didn't catch it until she'd had 
enough to get...just a bit drunk."

The older man scowled. "I see."


"Now now, dear, don't blame Koiwai-san," Mrs. Ayase said. "He's done nothing 
but take good care of our daughter, and these things happen."

Mr. Ayase grunted. "I'd better not hear of it happening again," he warned.

"Of course not," Koiwai replied.

The older man frowned. "I'm not terribly fond of the idea of my daughter 
dating a grown man. And I'll be honest, this...*this*...isn't doing you any 
favors." He set his tea down. "I don't care for those rock group guys I see 
on television..."

"I'm hardly a rock group guy," Koiwai said.


Mrs. Ayase bustled out of the room and up the stairs; she returned a few 
minutes later with a framed photograph. "THIS is what Koiwai-san normally 
looks like, dear," she said.

Mr. Ayase looked at a photo of two of his daughters, Yotsuba-chan, and a 
stringy-haired man at the beach. He blinked, then looked up at Koiwai. "It 
isn't even the same person!" he cried.

Koiwai sighed. "It IS the same person, Ayase-san," he said. "This...hair 
thing...I spent half the day at a salon getting this done so I'd actually 
look like whoever the hell I'm supposed to be dressed as. I didn't want to 
embarrass Fuuka-chan by half-assing it."

Mr. Ayase blinked. "You...went through all that...just for Fuuka-chan? Just 
for one date?"

"Yeah," Koiwai replied. "It was kinda fun, but I'll be glad when I get my 
normal hair back. This is just weird."

The older man snorted. "It certainly is." He shook his head. "But that you'd 
go that far..."

"Well, after all, she wore that nightmare of a wig," Koiwai said. "Seems 
only fair."

Koiwai and Fuuka's parents sat up into the early morning hours talking. An 
hour before sunrise, the older couple finally retired, and Koiwai crashed on 
the living room couch.

As he dozed off, he reflected:

*Okay, that was kind of a disaster of a second date...I'll have to work hard 
to make this one up to her. I'm just glad her dad didn't lop my head off. Or 
my balls...*

--------------------------------------




==================
Mythril Moth
www.mythrilmoth.net