It's Not Stalking [Tsuyoi or Gakuto/open]

[Aiko]

It was about as bright as a winter day could be expected to be. Fat clouds of grayish white sluggishly crawled across the pallid sky, but the sun, however wan, glittered on a couple icicles hanging from drainage pipes, though the sidewalks and roads were free of ice and snow. Vibrant blues and whites gleamed from every angle, overlaying the typical city grays. It was in this perfectly wintry afternoon that one Renée Donovan, finished with the drag of the school day, walked down her favorite detour that took her past one electronics store where she’d once gotten her beloved laptop repaired. A coat, one of those business-woman-ish black deals with the big buttons and the fancy folds that looked overly expensive except for the felt-like material, was pulled overtop a white blouse-shirt. White pantyhose clung to her legs underneath an annoyingly not-long-enough-for-her-tastes green skirt, while a teal backpack that looked more like it belonged in the backwoods of America than on the streets of a Japanese city clashed with the rest of her getup by bouncing on her back. Her long hair flowed free and bounced along about a quarter of the way down her back, overtop the backpack.

And there it was. That electronics store that held her only two memories of one Tsuyoi Seishuku was coming up right beside her, the windows gleaming in the brilliant winter way. Every so often, Renée liked to walk by and reminisce about two days back in the fall when she had seen the boy with the bleached hair. His face was always fuzzy in her mind’s eye; she just remembered that, when she had thought back on him a few days after their second encounter, she’d realized what an amazing body he’d had. That, and of course, she always remembered the harsh, white color of his hair. A color like the ice all around her.

As the American walked up to the window, the glare moved off, and she could see the typical narrow display of the store, this one filled with gadgetry. This array was somewhat familiar; the setup, in any case, was. It wasn’t as if she stalked the place, or anything of that nature; she just passed by every two or three weeks ever since her last Tsuyoi-sighting, for reasons she herself didn’t fully understand. Typically, she glanced at the display and continued on her merry (or not so merry, as the case with her might very well be) way home. Today, though, was a shift from the ordinary. Renée found herself standing half-turned towards the display behind the frost-spattered window, just staring. On a sudden whim, she wondered if perhaps that Tsuyoi character visited this place very often. Perhaps she would see him again, that interesting if snobby boy. The girl stood there, making up her mind. Maybe the boy didn’t even want to see her again. After all, she was pretty spastic the two times they’d encountered. So maybe she should show him her good side! Show him that Renée Donovan wasn’t 100% psychopathic… just about 66%, actually.

Before she could change her mind, she walked to the door and pushed it open. A faint, jittery ring above her head announced her arrival, and she winced slightly at the noise. As if there weren’t a million noises outside, like all cities had. She stepped in with one foot, but paused on the threshold, one foot in and one foot out, her green eyes raking the aisles (or what she could see of them) before coming to land on the counter where the register rested. Having not seen Tsuyoi in the instant her eyes roved around the place, Renée wondered if maybe that store owner—oh, what was that man’s name?—knew her acquaintance and his funky bleached hair. Acting before she could decide against it, she stepped in, and the glass door swung shut behind her.

[Lord Sesshomaru]

Gakuto noticed the woman rather quickly as he worked to assort the newest software for a computer, the packaging was rather colorful compared to how bland the people that used it were. Well, of course for Seishuku-sama. He admired that man among all others, although he wasn't sure why. He just had an air around him. Something that tugged the short man toward him that probably wasn't the best when his workers were watching. He was supposed to be the boss for crying out loud. He shoved those thoughts away as he watched the girl. An acquaintance to Seishuku, he realized.

"Ah, girl, what brings you here?" he asked with a forced smile. She is a, slight, friend of Tsuyoi's and that meant that he had to give her the same respect or else. Not only did he respect Seishuku he was the most important customer her had. And if insulting this woman would get him in trouble, he would make sure not to. He made his way toward her, placing the last of the software away before he came to her. She was taller then him, sometimes he hated being so short but he was used to it.

[Aiko]

Renée was feeling a little out of place, a little awkward as she stood blocking the door to the shop, when she heard someone speak. She only caught the last couple words: “brings you here?” She turned towards the direction of the voice, and saw a very short man coming at her. At first, she felt really stupidly confused. Who, me? wondered Renée as she watched the man approaching, and she undoubtedly had a baffled dumb face to match. “You speak to me,” she finally stated in slow Japanese; there was nobody else around, for crying out loud! Get it together, Ren, she thought as she felt her face flush red. But now that the short man that she recognized as the store manager was looking at her, she felt really stupid and, frankly, stalker-ish. But she wasn’t stalking Tsuyoi! She hadn’t seen him, so it didn’t count. But what was she trying to accomplish here? What, was she going to ask for Tsuyoi’s address and then go camp outside his house?

Realizing she needed to stall, Renée groped for things to say. “Um… yes. You are Gakutatoto Tomato, yes?”—This was the best she could stutter out as she, simultaneous with trying to figure out what she was doing here, tried also to remember the manager’s name. Considering the situation, she was doing very good.—“Yes. You repaired my computer once. Yes, yes. Thank you very much, Tomato-san. Or… or Gakutatoto-san?” Renée wasn’t helping herself, and she grinned awkwardly, ducking her head. She realized she’d crossed her arms against her chest: a sign of discomfort. She stood awkwardly, too, crossing one leg overtop the other one. “I am sorry,” she apologized quickly. “Japanese is not my first language. It is not my second language, too.” And if you counted Pig Latin, gibberish, and body language, Japanese didn’t even rate in the top five.

But Renée couldn’t stand for just hovering around in one spot, fidgeting. Her fidgeting had to involve lots of moving around. So the American breezed past the store manager, making a beeline for the closest aisle. She was suddenly very conscious of how her skirt billowed out behind her, and she finally uncrossed her arms to grab it and pull it down. Crouching down at the first display shelf, she wrapped her arms around her knees, peering very intensely at boxes of speakers.

[ooc: I think I tried to incorporate too much body language; I’m doing a report on said language this week. =P]

[Lord Sesshomaru]

Gakuto found himself easily annoyed with this woman. No duh he was speaking to her! She was so rediculous. What did Seishuku-sama see in this girl? His eyes narrowed as she said his name. Well, that wasn't his name, that's what he knew. He tried to control his temper, using the patience he had on an acquaintance of Seishuku. She should work on her japanese better. He huffed, watching her as she seemed to take her attention elsewhere. Speakers.

"It's Tomo-san to you." Gakuto said, placing his hands behind his back as he walked away. She wasn't good at Japanese at all, how could Seishuku stand to talk to that woman? He would never understand it. But he was not the type to question the man's actions. He had no right to, he knew that. Gakuto would have to suck it up and treat this woman properly so she didn't turn around and tell on him to Seishuku-sama. That would be horrible!

[Aiko]

“Oh. I am sorry, Tomo-san.” Though she was unsurprised that she got the manager’s name wrong, Renée questioned why she had even bothered to try. She usually got things wrong anyway, so why bother even trying to say anything at all? It was especially hard, what with this completely strange language that she had to try using for simple communication. Feeling herself wince and turn one shade deeper red, the American reached out to the box of speakers, pretending to use her finger to read a line of text. Little did she realize she was only tracing a blank white spot on the cardboard.

Finally, as she crouched there staring blankly at the box of speakers, Renée came to a decision. She wasn’t going to mention Tsuyoi at all. The boy with the bleached hair would never have to find out about his acquaintance’s stalkerish moment. But she had to invent some sort of reason to be in the store to begin with! Finally, the girl’s green eyes focused on the product on the box, and her mind began to tinker with the beginnings of an idea. Unhooking her backpack from her black-clad shoulders, she slung it in front of her, unzipped one of the many compartments. Yes, the product in question was there. Gripping her bag with sudden determination, Renée stood up and turned to face Tomo-san again.

By reading the small man’s body language, Renée could tell that the store manager was uncomfortable. With her? Inconceivable. The American was the one who was being awkward and weird, not the poor manager. Or was she really that much of a burden? Slowly, the American approached the manager, the backpack still gripped shut with both hands. “Did I—what is the word?—offend you? I did not mean to offend, and I am very sorry,” Renée said, tormented by her slow speech while she wanted to get this out as quickly as she could. “I… sorry.”

[Lord Sesshomaru]

Gakuto ignored her as best he could, she didn't speak to him so there was no reason for him to speak to her. Instead, he went back to his business. Which was, well...nothing. Even so, he made himself usefull by reorganizing the products, making everything perfect then it already was even though he really could care less. Oh, if only Seishuku was there. To be able to see the brilliance in that man. He couldn't help but admire Tsuyoi Seishuku. His power couldn't help but be noticed. In his own little day dream Gakuto almost didn't notice the girl as she came up to him and spoke.

Gakuto waited, which seemed like forever as she got out her apology in her slow Japanese. He found his patience slipping as she tried to communicated with him. "You should be sorry!" he squawked, turning his short body to face her. "I swear, I will never understand-"

"Silence" The sudden voice startled Gakuto speechless. Why? Because he knew that voice. He knew that voice oh so well. How could he not? That commanding, deep voice of none other then Seishuku-sama. He turned his attention away from the girl, and toward the man that hadn't visited his shop in a while. Oh, how happy he was to see that Seishuku had come to visit him, to grace him with his presence! "Oh, Seishuku-sama, welcome, how have you been?" his enthusiasm seemed to annoy Seishuku, but how could he help himself? Gakuto watched as Seishuku walked completely into the store, those narrowed eyes on the girl he had almost yelled at. Oh no, what if he got in trouble for it?! He felt his body go cold as he watched the all too intimidating man.

"What are you doing here? Is something wrong with your computer?" Nooo, Seishuku was speaking English! How could he listen to what they were saying if he didn't understand them?!

[Aiko]

Her mind still not able to process what was being said when someone spoke very rapidly in Japanese (it was a rapid language to begin with, of course, and anything above the norm or spoken with much feeling was difficult for her to understand), Renée nevertheless could tell when she was being reprimanded. Her already-rosy cheeks deepened to what was almost their deepest shade of red. When the manager turned, the customer didn’t want to look him in the eye, didn’t want to see the annoyance there. She hated it when she was a bother, and it happened so much in this country!

And then that voice broke in.

Almost in sync with Tomo-san, Renée’s head flicked to the side. She hadn’t recognized the voice right off the bat, unlike the fawning manager, but she recognized that ice-colored head. How couldn’t she? It wasn’t like everybody in Japan walked around with bleached hair! The American couldn’t help the grin that split across her face, even while her hands still awkwardly grasped at her backpack. It was Tsuyoi, the very boy she’d wanted to see! And her memory definitely hadn’t done him justice; this guy was straight-up, not-a-doubt-in-any-female’s-mind hot! His face was most definitely an asset, too. Stern, sharp, and a little cold (inexplicably, almost 100% of females in the world are at least minorly attracted to bad boys). Very much like an ice sculpture. Including that expression in his narrowed eyes that made Renée’s smile crumple almost as soon as it appeared.

Instantly reverting to her native English, Renée retorted, “Does something have to be wrong with my computer?! It works just fine, thank you very much![/i]” Actually, her laptop was obnoxiously slow and battered, but there was no way she was ever going to get rid of it. When it at last refused to turn on for once and all, she planned to frame it and hang it up over her bed. How dare that Tsuyoi go insulting her computer! Sexy or not, Seishuku was a cold butthead (or so she liked to think).

“Actually, I was getting some help from Mr. Tomo-san here. Of course I’d come here if it’s a good electronics shop. Why else would I ever show up here?” But Renée was starting to confuse herself. She felt like she was trying to be defensive, but it wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong by just so happening to be in the same place at the same time as this really hot guy, the hottest guy she’d seen all school year. But then again, she probably romanticized him in her imagination. So she defiantly turned away from him, saying, “Well, you go do whatever the hell you want.”

The fifteen-year-old walked very deliberately the rest of the way to the register and finally dumping down her backpack, held open the necessary pocket again. She pulled out a very old, very seriously battered CD player. It was rounded, roughly the shape of a CD but thick and heavy with the dated machinery inside it. Knicks and ding-marks all over the gray plastic showed just how much dropping this thing had been through. Attached was a pair of battered earphones that once upon a time had been prettily white. They were newer than the CD player, but considering the condition, they didn’t look it. Returning to Japanese, she turned to Tomo-san (wherever he was at the moment) and stated, “I want a new… thing.” She didn’t know the word for CD player; it wasn’t something that came up in everyday chitchat these days.

[Lord Sesshomaru]

Tsuyoi didn't really know what to expect while talking to Renee. He had assumed she had a purpose for being here, and he assumed it had been his computer. No need to snap his head off. But that's how she decided to reply. He forced back the urge to roll his eyes at her action. Why did he have to fed up with it? He glanced at Gakuto, his confused expression almost humorous. The man turned his attention back to the girl, and so did the annoying manager when his last name was heard. Help? Tsuyoi was quickly losing his patience with this girl, she continued to snap at him as if he had done something. He would never understand girls, much less those crazy ones. With a small sigh he turned away. He had come in here to warm himself up a bit. The cold should be his favorite, but he couldn't stand it! Too cold, too hold, why couldn't things stay at an even temperature?


Gakuto unwillingly turned his attention to Tsuyoi, he didn't understand why he seemed so nice to the girl. He knew Tsuyoi so well, so he could see how annoyed he was with her. He moved toward the register, looking toward the battered item that he couldn't even believe was a CD player from this generation. "Why not get an mp3 player?" he tried to go slow with his Japanese for the annoying English girl.

[Aiko]

“Um.” That was Renée’s super-intelligent, brainiac reply to Tomo-san’s completely sensible offer. She looked at her CD player. She looked at Tomo-san. The CD player. The Tomo-san. “Um,” she mumbled again, trying to buy herself time. Why the hell had she gotten out her CD player, of all things? From what she knew about them, the girl was pretty sure mp3 players were expensive. Not out of her budget, certainly. Not if she didn’t mind going hungry for the rest of her stay in Japan. Sure, her dad would come to her rescue if she called and said she wanted an mp3. (He’d actually been pressuring her to get one for ages, but her attachment to her various material possessions kept her from agreeing.) Besides, she didn’t like to spend money frivolously, especially when it wasn’t her own play money. She wouldn’t want to mooch off her parents.

“That is dependent on something, I suppose,” the American hedged, her eyes darting frantically around the store. Her arms were crossed across her chest again, and she jiggled a foot while she stood there, trying to come up with something. Oh. Duh. “How much does the cheapest mp3 cost?” she asked vaguely, waving a hand for emphasis (though of what, not even her roleplayer was sure). Undoubtedly outside her budget. But now, as her wandering eyes landed again on her CD player, she realized that she needed something new for her music. Maybe she should ring the folks back home in the states… “And… how do they work? How do you get music on an mp3?” Renée finished, forcing herself to look back at the manager.

[Lord Sesshomaru]

Gakuto waited, what seemed patiently as Renee thought over what she was going to decide. What was there to decide, really? How could she even stand to carry around that old thing? The man would never understand. He glanced at Tsuyoi, who seemed uninterested in the conversation completely. The short man turned his attention back to the girl, realizing she was talking. He tried to ignore his impatience with the woman. Her question seemed expected, but he seemed to mull over it for a while. "It depends on how much memory you want, it could cost from forty to seventy dollars for a decent one."

Gakuto thought he heard Tsuyoi scoff at his statement. The mp3 players at that price could not hold even one-hundred songs, no video's, and no pictures. So that he knew Seishuku would not be pleased with. He would want the best and it would cost twice that much as a cheap little old mp3. He blinked, turning his attention back to the girl. Oh, she had asked another question? Yes, of course.

The man sighed, thinking of how to explain it without wasting his time. "The music is transferred from the computer and onto the mp3 player. You can use any of the CD's you have and transfer those songs onto the computer and then onto the mp3 player."

[Aiko]

“Dollars? American dollars?!” Renée might seem very stupid, but in reality, beneath the many layers of the initial dumbness and foolish antics, she possessed one of the brightest minds, in both her American and Japanese schools. “Seventy? How much memory could seventy dollars hold?” And what was this Tomo-san’s definition of “decent” anyway? That was an ambiguous word. Heck, if these things were seventy bucks apiece at most, why didn’t Renée just buy out the whole stock with the money she had with her in Japan? She had the equivalent of forty American dollars in her backpack right there and then! She had the funds to buy one of these babies herself, forget mooching off her dad! Suddenly, the purchase of one of these things became a very real issue in her mind. She decided right there and then, no matter the cost, she wanted one. Hence the capricious nature of the female.

“Oh, what the hell? I’ll take the damn thing![/i]” she muttered to herself in English, hardly realizing that she was drumming her fingers thoughtfully on the counter. Switching back to this country’s language, she said to Tomo-san, “Yes, yes, but I need a lot of memory. I have… at least five hundred musics I want.” Little did she realize then and there that seventy American dollars wouldn’t come close to covering the sort of space she needed.

“And then I send home the CDs of my mother and my father, yes.” She had been receiving occasional emails from her parentals asking if she was sure she didn’t know the location of certain CDs. But what could she say? That she liked the music too much to give them back their discs? If her mother wasn’t the type to listen to Led Zeppelin, maybe things would be different, but as it was…

Still yammering, barely pausing for breath despite her slow use of the language (which was rapidly becoming faster, the more excited she got, and therefore a little less comprehensible), Renée continued on her tirade. “You have created me to be very, very enjoyable, Tomo-san!” she enthused. “You are great man for idea. Yes, I want mp3 because I love the song.” Finally, a thought broke through her ramblings, and she looked confused for a question before crossing her arms over her chest again and turning her eyes down to the man again, though her gaze was slightly averted to the left. “But I maybe not having the money today. Can I bring the money later time?”

All this while, though, the American was getting more and more nervous. She knew Tsuyoi, who was practically the hottest guy in all of Japan, was somewhere behind her in the store, and that she had, in reality, come here looking for him. And he was probably listening to her stammer and stutter her way through her sentences to Tomo-san. Her face burned a little more as she became conscious of all the words she messed up on. Finally, she spun around, her green eyes seeking the man with the bleached hair. When they did, she exploded, “There are hotter guys back in America, ya know![/i]” Her face at its final stage of redness, with even the part in her hair stained crimson, she whirled back to Tomo-san and muttered, “Pease continue.”

[Birdie]

"UWAAAAH!" The door burst open with a resounding bang and a tiny boy ran into the store. At first one could not tell it was a boy. He dressed in a mid-thigh length skirt, rainbow striped knee high socks, and a pretty little blouse along with a stylish purse. His short silvery hair hung at a fashionably short length and perfectly styled to frame his pretty face. His bright green eyes were filled with tears making them shine. "Gakuto-sama!" He sobbed falling against the counter. "I dropped it in a puddled and it... it... it diiiiiieeeed." he managed to finished dropping an ipod on the counter.

It was then he realized there was another customer. He flushed a bright shade of red, back up and bowed deeply, causing the skirt to ride up slightly to show off a pair of decidedly feminine panties. "Gomen Nasai!" he appologized and straightened. He turned to see yet another familiar face in the store.

"Ah! Senpai!" His blush deepened. "Anou..." he stared at his feet, feeling considerably stupid for having rush in like he had. But all his music was on that ipod. He would die with out his music! The poor silvery haired boy was on the verge of tears.

[Lord Sesshomaru]

Was it really that surprising? Gakuto found her incredibly annoying. Including with the excitement she had for a cheap mp3 player. They are nothing compared to a zune and ipod. He would never try and understand this woman. Before he could reply to her question she was muttering in stupid English. He hated other languages. He would be patient until she was done rambling to answer. Although, it was hard to remember when he was being complimented. Oh, when was the last time he had been complimented? Insulted, just yesterday, but a compliment? It was just too rare.

Gakuto pondered over her ideas on money, pausing to wait and see if she had anything else she wanted to say. And in fact, she did. Just not to him. It was Tsuyoi who she spoke to, and the confused and surprised look on his face startled him so much he wasn’t sure of his answers anymore. He blinked, finally turning his attention back to Renee. “Of course. And the cheapest mp3’s can hold at least two-hundred songs. One of the better ones, like Seishuku-sama’s, was about a hundred and fifty-nine American dollars. Including that it is a Zune original. His can also contain over two-thousand songs.” he found that extremely cheap for a good one. But that was because Seishuku had decided on an 8GB.

Tsuyoi tried to get over that little statement sent his way. He found it almost humorous. Because Renee knew…it wasn’t true. He knew he was good looking. Hard to ignore it. Hard to deny it. He turned his eyes elsewhere, mostly to the window that showed the buildings around them and the street where random cars passed by. He was the first to notice the rather cute distressed girl…oh god it was Kouhei.

Why the hell was that boy wearing girl clothes…again?? Tsuyoi couldn’t stand it. Not that he didn’t look good…he just looked too good. It was irritating. He stepped back, allowing Kouhei access without hitting Tsuyoi with the door. He watched the conversation, this time not even trying to keep to his own business.

Tsuyoi had humor watching Gakuto take in the situation placed on him.

Gakuto glared at Kouhei. “You clumsy little cross-dresser!” he sighed, shaking his head as he picked up the ipod, shaking it lightly to see if water came out of the creases. He tsked, disapproving of Kouhei’s inept way of handling things. He sighed, turning away from his desk and through a door in the back. Hopefully he could get the device to connect.


Tsuyoi almost didn’t want Kouhei to notice him. He found it rather hard to talk to the boy when he was wearing such clothes. Maybe it was because he realized more on what the boy did, or maybe it was because of how he looked. Mostly because of how he looked. He wouldn’t dare ask for Kouhei’s reason for the clothes today. In fact, he didn’t really care to speak.

[Aiko]

Renée’s face was burning; she lifted a finger to press against her cheek and she could feel the waves of heat emanating from her blush-stained skin. As she moved her finger away, Tomo-san would see a small whitish mark where she had pressed before it faded again… or he might have, had not the door suddenly been thrust open with a clang and some girl in very loud clothing come rampaging into the store, screaming her head off in a voice that might have been very angry or very sad before thrusting an iPod on the counter, wailing.

What’s with the slut? the American with the blushing face wondered as said slut turned and dipped in an apologetic bow. Renée didn’t mean to look, but she couldn’t help but see the panties. Thankfully, she couldn’t turn any redder; the girl just stared with gaping mouth at the random girl as she spun around and dipped her head to Tsuyoi as well. Everything about this girl was just so freakin’ loud: her wailing, her silvery hair, and those absolutely insane socks. Even back home in the USA, Renée hadn’t seen anything quite as crazy-looking and yet oddly pretty as this slutty girl and her iPod.

After several moments of gaping at this girl, Renée realized, very belatedly, that no matter how this girl dressed, she was at least polite enough to apologize what she’d interrupted. Very glad to have her attention on a fellow female rather than a hot guy, the American mumbled, “There is nothing for apologize.” But she couldn’t stare at the little psycho for too long without her outfit giving her a migraine. Wishing she had pockets into which she could shove her hands, Renée settled for turning back to the counter under the pretense of waiting for Tomo-san to come back, a hand lifting from where it had been across her well-endowed chest to run through her thick, chocolaty hair. And, of course, even with her attention away from the two pale-haired people behind her, she thought about them.

Finally, her mind swarmed in on a conclusion, and Renée turned slightly to look at the girl with the rainbow socks out from the corner of one greenish eye. After a moment, the American’s gaze shifted ever-so-slightly (but still somehow not surreptitiously) to Tsuyoi. And back to the girl. She addressed him… so obviously, they knew each other from somewhere. The boy with the bleached hair was undoubtedly handsome. The girl with the revealing getup was undoubtedly cute. Was there… a relationship here?

[ooc: Do I get a cookie for worst post ever??]

[Birdie]

Kouhei shifted again, shuffling his feet. He glanced at Gakuto, who was doing something with his ipod. He breathed a loud sigh of relief, pressing his hand to an obviously flat chest. He had noticed the American girl was much larger and felt a pang of jealousy. He wished he had boobs like that. But he, like all good Japanese, made no comment. He would berate or embarrass the girl, as some American's might when they see someone they are jealous of. Kuohei was sweet in that way.

The silence that followed was deafening and caused Kouhei to shuffle even more. The young feminine looking male glanced around the store before saying "Nice weather outside, neh?" He nibbled his lower lips and clasped his hands in front of him, his toes pointed toward each other in what had to be very cute in someone so tiny. But this was an obvious 'I'm so uncomfortable right now' position.

Hell if Kouhei knew what to say or do! Gakuto-sama hated him, this strange big breasted woman seemed to have accepted her apology and Kouhei knew his senpai was looking anywhere but at him. And that saddened the young cross-dresser a bit. He scuffed a high heeled shoe against the carpeted floor. "I'll just be over here..." He wandered off toward the mp3 players, preparing himself for being told his ipod would never come back to life.