[Log] Kon, Tatsuki

[haku]

Log Title: I'll Show You a Good Time
Characters: Kon (fanfare), Tatsuki (haku)
Timeline: June 26, 2007
Rating: PG
Summary: Tatsuki finds her newest target.


Forty-eight... forty-nine... fifty.

With a sigh of relief, Tatsuki placed the weights back on the rack, wiping at her forehead with the towel which hung around her neck and glancing at the clock on the wall. Exactly three hours past lunch, and about damn time for a fucking break.

So, still rubbing at the sweat which ran down the side of her neck, Tatsuki walked by the front desk and towards the entrance of the gym.

"Takin' ten. Be back soon."

The slight breeze sent a shiver down her spine as Tatsuki inhaled deeply, hearing the door shut behind her as she leaned against the concrete wall outside.

Same old, same old.

So here were the cool things about gyms:

Firstly, there was this health craze thing. All over the nation, people were obsessively joining dieting programs, ordering from the light menus at fast food restaurants, and squeezing into spats and yoga pants, all for the sake of exercise. Kon didn’t complain about the hot girls who did these things.

Secondly, gyms were full of machines dedicated to showing off things. Kon had never particularly found treadmills interesting or even useful until he had seen a chick with double-Ds and a beautiful body bounce her way through two kilometers. And, needless to say, his eyes were glued the whole time.

And third, the regulars were generally the hottest of the legions of spandex-clad. They were the ones who bothered to put in the real effort, and while Kon generally preferred curvy babes, there was nothing wrong with a little bit of muscle. But just a little bit.

Like, say, the chick he was examining thoroughly as he drew nearer to the place, keen on maybe spending an hour or two being a spectator, pretending he was interested in joining, but just hanging around to see the action. This chick obviously spent a lot of time keeping herself in shape, and in Kon’s opinion, it was paying off nicely.

Shame she looked to be only a B, at most.

The funny thing about spandex that most men weren't usually aware of--unless they wore their own spandex shorts, but gods only knew that most men weren't exactly fond of that idea--was its uncanny ability to shrink just about anything. It was perhaps one of the reasons why a lot of women still opted to wear spandex to gyms; provided that their lovehandles were of a manageable size, spandex had the magical ability of making chicks look more fit.

Unfortunately, for those not quite so well-endowed, it also meant shrinking a cup size or two. Indeed, Tatsuki Arisawa was actually a C cup. It's just that few lived to learn of that because, well, most guys who tried to cop a feel ended up with a black eye. Or two.

Which made it fortunate that the guy lingering around the entrance was only feeling with his eyes, and not his hands.

A guy who, despite the uncanny resemblace, Tatsuki could tell wasn't the man she'd known ever since their toddler years. His expression wasn't quite that constipated. And, well, hell would probably freeze over before Ichigo Kurosaki ever saw Tatsuki fit to oogle at.

"Haven't seen you 'round before," she greets. "Signin' up at the gym?"

Kon was happier not knowing the technicalities of spandex. To his knowledge, he’d never worn the stuff, and he didn’t plan on it any time soon. The babes walking around in it, though? They could rock on. They could wear it all the time. Even in the winter. Kon had zero complaints for that, either.

And hey, the girl with the B-rack was paying attention to him! He grinned and stood up straighter. She was hotter than the average girl, there was no denying that, and it would just have to make up for her B-rack. Just like how hundreds of others of below-average-boobied girls did.

Was he here to sign up? No.

“Yeah!” he said, enthusiastically, “Nice to meet you!”

His eyes wandered down, and then up again, to hers. Just to be polite.

Another perv. Fucking typical. But gyms, see, gyms made most of their revenue off of pervs and the like anyway. And it'd be a lie if Tatsuki said that she didn't enjoy the attention at all.

It was nice to have all her hard work appreciated, after all. Rock hard abs, they didn't just come out of nowhere.

"Well, sweet," she drawled, immediately jumping into saleswoman mode and pushing off the wall to link her arm around the man's. "I just happen to work here, so why don't we just head inside and I'll help you out with the forms?"

And if he refused, well, she'd kick his ass for looking at her chest like that.

Crap. He was stuck now, wasn’t he? He didn’t really want to pay for a gym membership he wasn’t going to use, but, well... if it let him get into the gym to look around, it couldn’t hurt. It gave him an excuse to be there, and Kon really didn’t mind being there on his time off. There was nothing in the world like girls, and it brought him back to memories of gym class, which had been his favourite subject in school.

He loved running almost as much as he loved watching girls.

“Thanks,” he said, “Er, that’d be great.”

Even greater was that she was friendly enough to take him by the arm, and that was kind of sweet of her. And he wasn’t even hitting on her at the time!

When it really came down to it, if he had hit on her, Tatsuki might've just socked him on the jaw. Depending on how severe the flirting was, of course.

Instead, she grinned and dealt with it, the fact that this man looked quite a bit like Ichigo only bothering her slightly.

"My name's Tatsuki," she finally decided on saying with a smile. "One of the head instructors at this gym, usually in charge of aerobics and the like."

She pulled the door open and ushered him inside, the staff behind the desk immediately scuffling for papers--when Tatsuki brought someone to the gym, they never backed out. Without paying for a good six months, anyway.

“Nice to meet you, Tatsuki,” he replied, glad she was smiling. She had a pretty smile, but it also led him to believe that maybe she wasn’t an extreme nut with the work-out thing. It was a relaxing smile, rather than one geared towards bull-whipping him into better shape while counting like a military leader. “M’name’s Kon.”

In any case, he was glad he was on the track team.

The whole “forms” thing kind of blew, though, so he leant against the desk and let his eyes rove around the room while they got those in order. There was a chick in a hot pink top with giant boobies, over by the far wall, and there was a brunette with amazing legs.

Kon loved the simple things in life.

“I don’t want to pay for girly things like yoga or pilets or whatever they’re called, though,” he said. If he was going to be paying for something, it wasn’t going to be something involving soothing whale music and slow breathing, which was exactly what “aerobics” implied in his head.

"Ha!" Tatsuki barked, shaking her head as she started shuffling through the forms, filling out as much as she could. All the easier to reel him in. "Yoga? Pilates? I can do them, sure, but they sure as hell won't waste a trainer like me on stuff like that. Not that I'm a lot better than the yoga instructors, exactly, but... you'll see."

Oh, she couldn't wait to get this guy into her class. He seemed like a sucker for smiles. Was probably the type who wanted to oogle women.

Of course, she would never tell him that the majority of her class? All men. Women buckled under the stress, generally.

"Mind filling out the rest?" Tatsuki asked, handing Kon the other forms.

“Oh, great.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I hate that sort of stuff. What’s his face... that Richard Simmons loser. Boring as hell.”

There wasn’t really a way to ask about getting a bustier trainer without being thrown out on his ass, so he didn’t chance it. He’d just learn to love what she had and go from there. Plus, well, it was a grab bag, if he was going to be in a class. There was potential for a lot of goblin-women, but he knew he was guaranteed at least a babe or two.

“Yeah, no problem, babe,” he said, offhandedly, picking up the pen and taking the papers. Name, easy, gender, easy, etc. It was all pretty basic stuff, in the end, and he signed his name on the dotted line at the bottom. “How much for how long?”

Hell. Yes.

He had signed the line. The potential customer was chained to it now. Six months' worth of pure hell under her reign.

Almost instantaneously, Tatsuki's tone changed, fingers quickly snatching the forms out of Kon's grip and handing them to the staff behind the desk, who began processing the information immediately. A couple of fingers tugged at her tank, hiding some of the revealed cleavage, and Tatsuki smirked triumphantly at her newest victim.

"How much is rather immaterial. Cost is technically a hundred bucks a month, but if you're real sweet, you can get off without paying a dime 'cause I think you're just that cute. But ya gotta come to every session. Once a day, two hours a session, for six months."

Her smile widened.

Kon was more than a bit concerned over how crazy she seemed over this whole deal. She was smiling like she had caught him in some sick torture device. Once a day, two hours a session, for six months? That was far over three hundred hours of this stuff, but Kon was pretty sure he was cool enough to pull it off. Three hundred hours of sweating, working out, and being in this place, probably in sweatpants and he frigging hated gym clothes.

It was three hundred hours with a lot of women.

“I wouldn’t have to pay? Damn,” he said, with a wide grin. She was smiling like a crazy person, alright, but Kon liked crazy girls. They tended to be really, really interesting up close and personal. Freaky, but interesting. “That sounds pretty good. When do we start?”

That being said, the only up close and personal Kon would probably ever get out of Tatsuki was with her fist. Tatsuki enjoyed using her fist.

"Depends on how well you do," Tatsuki reminded him, tutting gently and gesturing for him to follow her to the back rooms. "As for when we start... got any objections about starting right now?"

She wasn't... crazy. Passionate, perhaps. Passionate in a way that Tatsuki always was about working out and pushing her body--and, conversely, those of others--to the limit, because it gave her a sense of purpose and of striving for a higher goal, especially when sometimes she felt like she was floundering in life.

Not that any of that mattered now, what with her new toy and all.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I can do it,” Kon replied, following her with a smile, “I was on the track team back home! Fastest runner my school’d ever seen, and I’d’ve gone to these national thingies if I hadn’t been kicked off the team.”

He laughed. Kon didn’t know how to stop crazy girls from being crazy, and he couldn’t have cared to.

He looked down at himself, having forgotten what he had thrown on that morning, and it was only a band t-shirt and nicely-fitted but grubby pants. That would have to do, wouldn’t it?

“Er, sure?” he shrugged. More time to stare at the hot spandex-clad women, and he had an excuse to! He was lucking out for sure, no way was this too good to be true.

Well, that was interesting. Fastest runner. Hmm. Someday, Tatsuki would have to take this guy out back to the track and see just how fast he was; most guys who boasted ended up practically fainting onto the rubble after a race or two against her. Although, at the same time, few had the gall to lie about something like being of a national level...

"Sounds pretty impressive," she nodded approvingly, pausing once they'd gone far enough down the hall and pushing a heavy door open to reveal several exercise machines--the standard things, like dumbells, weights, treadmills and such. Almost reflective of the rest of the gym, except for the fact that this room was, save for the two of them and some tired-looking and notably male stragglers, fairly deserted.

Tatsuki eyed her bunch before clearing her throat, at which all of them stood to attention.

"You guys lucked out. I found a new toy for today, so you all get to leave early," she murmured, voice low but audible in the near perfect silence. Eyeing each other nervously, all of the men scrambled to leave, after which Tatsuki grinned and closed the door behind them, locking the door.

"So. Weights or running today? Take your pick."

When Kon said he was a fast runner, he meant it. If there was anything he was skilled at besides girl-watching, he was born a runner. A hundred meters in under under ten seconds? No problem. If he was more notable than your average street kid, he could be an official record-holder, but seeing as he was just the average street kid, that wasn’t likely.

“It is,” he agreed, stopping at the door.

It was an understatement to say that Kon was disappointed by the scenario presented to him. It wasn’t the gym equipment that got him, it was that there were no chicks here at all. Just gross guys.

At least there would always be Tatsuki, who could be his military-drill princess. Maybe. His princesses generally didn’t call him a toy. He preferred the term “plaything”, because it implied something else.

Where to start?

“Running,” he said.

As if he was going to pick something he probably wasn’t going to impress in.

"Alright," Tatsuki smirked, flashing a brilliant grin as she made her way to the closest treadmill and began punching buttons in it. Given Kon's extreme boasting, giving him one of the tougher runs on the program was probably a good way to start, to knock that huge ego of his down a notch or two.

And, with another thought, she began entering the same codes in the next treadmill over.

"I guess I'll join you, then?" she offered, motioning for Kon to start running. "If you get too tired, just let me know."

Confidently, Tatsuki began running on her own treadmill. If she had any say in it, Kon would come out feeling as though he hadn't a single bone left in his body.

“If you insist,” he said, with a shrug, “it’s been a while but I’m not gonna be falling on my face.”

He’d never seen a treadmill with this sort of set-up. His school had been sort of cheap, and, well, they had a track, not a gym. What treadmills he had used were sort of dinged up and flimsy, and they tended to crap out mid-session, anyway. Kon couldn’t read the settings on this fancy thing to save his life, and that was fine. All he needed to do was run on it, right?

Kon shucked off his messenger bag, dumping it by the bottom, and stepped up. It felt comfortable enough, so he hit the “go” button while standing in the middle of the thing.

Predictably, he nearly killed himself when the track shot backwards, ripping his feet out from under him. Luckily he managed to catch himself, if only by seizing the bars with his hands and skipping forward, and after a few seconds, he had his pace.

“Holy-- uh, nah, I’ll be alright,” he said.

Hopefully.

It took a lot of self-restraint to keep from barking out a laugh, but Tatsuki simply bit her lower lip, chuckling slightly to herself at Kon's surprise. As usual, another guy has underestimated her. Pretty girls--because Tatsuki knew that, to some degree, she was attractive--weren't always pushovers.

"If you say so," Tatsuki replied in a sing-song voice, continuing to eye Kon from the corner of her range of vision. To be fair, however, it did seem like Kon was keeping up, and the speed she had him going at was one that even seasoned runners couldn't always maintain...

"So, aside from having once been a star runner, what do you do now?" Tatsuki asked, tilting her head curiously.

He found this speed decent, once he got going, actually. Maybe it’d be easier in looser pants, but he was okay for now. If he couldn’t do it today, he’d kick ass tomorrow, when he had found better pants, and he’s show her just how cool he was.

“I do say so!” he grinned. It felt good to run again, even if he really was staying in one place. The most running he had done in the past year or two was running to get onto the subway before it left, and generally, that didn’t happen too often.

Her boobs bounced a bit when she ran. Kon’s need to be around pretty girls was appeased, for the moment.

“I’m the leader of the street team for the Vaizards, which recently became kind of shitty,” he replied, eyes staying her way. “Also do merchandise. And I like to go to parties.”

He had found out the hard way that "I like to look for girls, follow the pretty ones, and use my nifty little camera up skirts" was not an appropriate thing to say to girls.

"Oh?" Tatsuki visibly perked up at the mention of The Vaizard, always feeling this small and completely illogical swell of pride when the band was mentioned. Not that training them really had much to do with their popularity, but Tatsuki couldn't help being attached nonetheless. "That's quite a coincidence. I happen to be the personal trainer of The Vaizard. And, I also enjoy going to parties."

The pace was wearing ever so slightly on her energy now, which had been a little short from the start, thanks to the fact that she'd started work earlier than usual that morning, but Tatsuki simply wiped at her forehead with her arm, condensation trailing down her skin.

"Kinda ironic that they hired someone who happens to look so similar to the band's guitarist though, don't you think?" Tatsuki joked, looking over with a grin.

“Really?” he said, sort of surprised. Celebrities and personal trainers... well, it fit, but somehow, he never really imagined them in a place like this, with Tatsuki. Celebrity personal trainers tended to bring a mental image of a pool-side lift machine, in a private luxury mansion, with some docile, smiling buff man as a trainer.

But he hated to think that he could maybe run into Hiyori at this gym. That would just be awkward, seeing as she wanted to kill him, and this place probably had things that were metal and liftable or throw-able. Kon just didn’t want to die.

“Ahah, yeah, I mean... I started this team thing years ago, but a couple ‘o weeks ago, the record company bought me so they could control what I tell people ‘bout the Vaizards, I guess,” he explained. His legs were starting to feel the burn for sure. “So really, he looks like me, but I’d bet no one ever goes to him and says ‘Hey, Ichigo, you look like Kon!’ or anything. It’s all him, now.”

"Smart move on their part," Tatsuki replied, always disapproving of those who sought to do anything which unfairly put The Vaizard under close scrutiny. "And as for the resemblance, well. I'll bet that Ichigo isn't always too keen on being the more widely recognized of you two."

It was one of the things that had surprised Tatsuki about Ichigo's decision to join such a widely-known band. Granted, the guy was a sucker for music, and The Vaizard were pretty tight when it came to their songs, but fame and glory always seemed to be things which clashed with Ichigo's personality. Attention seemed to be something that clashed with Ichigo's personality.

Unlike this guy.

“Well, it wasn’t like I was doing anything wrong. Sure I almost got busted for graffiti once, but that was someone on the team, not me. It’s just kind of a pain to have corporate people on your ass, even if you do get an actual paycheck, for once.”

Street teams didn’t pay until you were bought like a cow at an auction.

His shins were bugging him, mildly, because they still smarted where Hiyori had kicked them. But Kon wasn’t about to give in so soon because of that, especially if Hiyori had the same trainer. His brain slipped to what Hiyori would look like, in spandex, rather than dripping wet.

Not bad, but he was too busy running to think about that too much.

“Hey, I’d be glad to be a rock star, do nothing but listen to music, party, and pick up babes, but I’m more of a radio guy.”

Tatsuki pressed a couple of buttons on her treadmill to increase her speed; from the looks of things, Kon was going to be able to keep up for the entirety of his lesson, and there was no way in hell Tatsuki was going to let him one-up her when that happened.

"HA. You really think that all rock stars are like that?" Tatsuki laughed, shaking her head. "Just going by your doppleganger alone, I can tell you that there's a whole lot more than that. Paparazzi. Never having a fucking moment of privacy. Not having time to spend with friends or family."

Her smile faded a bit at her last point, thinking about how it'd taken so much just to get herself back to where Ichigo was. If she'd never tried out for the training role, there was no way in hell that she'd have ever caught up. And Ichigo probably wouldn't have done anything about that.

"'Sides, Ichigo Kurosaki?" Tatsuki added, smirking. "He's not the type to party, let alone pick up chicks. And I'd know; I've known him ever since we were kids."

He didn’t even notice her increase the speed. His mind was running elsewhere.

“Well, some are,” he said, defensively, “my friend’s one of those groupie types, it’s what she knows. But I mean, come on. The paparazzi isn’t too bad, they’re kind of nice if you talk to ‘em, and who wants privacy? If I could have it my way, I’d have someone with me every minute of the day!”

Or so he could dream. Kon spent too much time stuck by himself to really grasp the concept of wanting privacy.

“Really? Haha. Guess I should drill you ‘bout him, so I’ll know my clone better, huh?” he said. He sounded like he was teasing, but he really meant it, in the end. “But friends with a loser like him? Aha, ha, I’m kidding, though, that’s kinda cool. How many people can say their friends grew up to be rock stars, even if they’re uptight and grumpy, huh?”

"Beats being a friend of a wannabe goofball like you," Tatsuki laughed, meaning well despite her words. "And you won't be gettin' much outta me about Ichigo. They've trained me in all that privacy shit too, so you'd be hard-pressed to find out anything 'bout what he's doing these days from me."

She smirked, hands letting go of the support bars so that she could jog without restraint; it was about time, too, given how her thighs were really starting to feel the burn.

"But, if it's kiddie pictures you want? Just ask. I've even got one of him running around in the dojo, round little butt exposed after one of the other kids pantsed him. Kid looks so freaking happy in the pic that you would've thought he did it himself."

It's one of Tatsuki's favorite pictures, and the mere thought of the old days makes her brow twitch nostalgically. Generally, people just didn't get it. Couldn't get it, how hard being a celebrity really was. Most were just like Kon, always just seeing the positive things that they showed on TVs, never seeing the down sides.

“Wannabe goofball?” Kon repeated, with an odd sort of laugh. He was starting to get a nasty stitch in his side. “But wow, didn’t know the industry was that obsessively controlling. What, they scared of you blabbing to everyone? I mean, I don’t know much about friends, but friends don’t do that, huh?”

Though he had to confess he was ridiculously disappointed. Sooner or later, he had to know about Ichigo, if he wanted this impromptu imitating thing to work out in his favour. He kept getting screwed over by the little details.

“Ahaha, I don’t care what he looked like as a baby,” Kon said, scrunching up his nose. “He sounds like a complete idiot loser, though, especially as a kid, no offense or anything. THOUGH...” he gave a hopeful grin, “I could probably get it printed up on stickers, or t-shirts, or something?”

"It's more complex than that," Tatsuki grinned, as though it were obvious. "If friends get in fights, if friends just accidentally let something slip... it's good for them to remind people that this is serious business. A scandal can completely ruin a person's career--just look at Cirucci Thunderwitch."

Satisfied with how much Kon had been running--he was remarkably impressive for someone on their first day--Tatsuki pressed a couple of buttons to bring her treadmill to a stop, then walked over and did the same for Kon's.

"And as for Ichigo as a baby, yeah, he was kind of a loser. In some ways, he hasn't changed much since," Tatsuki added, snorting. "But you see... your question about getting it printed? It's exactly that sort of mentality that makes it important for the artists to be careful." She patted Kon on the shoulder before walking to the side, where a rack of fresh towels laid, tossing one to Kon while rubbing the other over her neck and temple.

"Not that, of course, I can blame you. It'd be a lot of money in your pocket."

Kon felt like his legs were going to implode, or explore, or generally do something unacceptable, but he had survived. He came to a stop and took a long breath, leaning against the rail and wiping his forehead with the collar of his shirt.

“Yeah, I guess,” he replied, “But I hate the Arrancar, so if she washes up, who cares?”

He caught the towel and buried his face in it for a moment. It was nice, and decidedly better than stretching his t-shirt about.

“Well, even if you said yes, the company would probably roll its eyes at me, make me fill out forms, do legal crap, talk to various printers, compare prices for a better rate, check out sponsorship... all that stupid crap. But yeah. Money, and plenty of it.”

Tatsuki looked good all sweaty.

"Hey hey," Tatsuki frowned, putting her hands on her hips and walking over to Kon. "Never simply badmouth a band. Even if you don't like their music, or if you don't like their attitudes, bands've got it rough, being high-profile. Should respect their effort."

Besides, she added mentally, Cirucci Thunderwitch was a damn good vocalist. Even if no one else around seemed to be in agreeance with Tatsuki when it came to that.

"But yeah, getting permission to use the stuff? More trouble than it's worth." Tatsuki turned around and headed back to the rack of towels, reaching into a hamper on the side and pulling out a staff t-shirt, relatively unused, and tossed it over to Kon.

"It's clean. Just thought that it'd be a bit more comfortable."

“But I’m with the Vaizard,” he replied, bluntly, blinking at her. “If I didn’t, I would be ritually sacrificed in a fire by the rest of the team, in the name of the band. Though, haha, it would be kind of cruel to Ichigo if I went around in a Arrancar shirt, huh?”

He couldn't say he'd ever listened to Cirucci, though, but she was great to look at. And her skirts were so short, it was amazing there weren't wardrobe malfunctions every other day.

Kon grinned, and continued, “But that’s why I don’t do it. Couldn’t be bothered when I have better things to do, huh?”

He thanked her for the t-shirt as he caught it, and he pulled off his own shirt and put on the clean one. It fit decently, as it was a bit on the baggy side. Luckily it wasn’t too bad, Kon couldn’t stand the baggy thing about most shirts.

“Yeah, s’all good. Thanks.”

Tatsuki couldn't help watching as Kon had taken off his shirt, more than a little surprised--and, admittedly, pleased--by what she saw underneath. Nothing as impressive as those in Tatsuki's old dojo, but certainly a fit body, nonetheless. This one would be fun to work with.

"Anyway, everything else aside," Tatsuki continued, waving off the rest of the conversation, which she really couldn't see going anywhere, "it looks to me like you're not entirely new to this gym thing, after all. Unless a nice set of abs just happens to run in your family?"

It wasn't intended to be flattery--Tatsuki wasn't the type who did flattery, anyway. Nevertheless, it was nice to see someone fit in the gym, for a change. Most of the guys that ended up starting her classes were, well, either a little too far on the pudgy side, or just weak little sticks asking to be snapped in half. Kon looked like he actually had some decent substance to him.

Kon took it as flattery anyway, even if Tatsuki wasn’t his type. He gave a grin and a shrug of his shoulders, and replied, “If it does, I wouldn’t know, but I don’t exactly laze around when I can avoid it... did gym stuff at school, spend most of my days runnin’ around the city doing things. I just don’t really use gyms now.”

That, and being roly-poly and paunchy, or sharing a resemblance to beached whales, didn’t exactly pull in the girls. Kon did what he felt like doing to make himself presentable to girls.

“And hey, I wouldn’t look like Ichigo if I was a tub of lard, would I?” he grinned.

Tatsuki cringed at the description, nearly shuddering as she tried to picture Ichigo--or, maybe picturing Kon would have been easier on her poor brain--about twenty sizes heavier, flabs of fat rolling with each step. Soon, however, the shiver passed and Tatsuki was laughing, forehead pressed to her palm as she shook her head.

"Ugh, gross," she complained, feeling for all the world like she was back in middle school. Except, back then, everything about guys was gross. "Let's not go there, 'kay? I'm glad both of you are fit, End of story."

Although, come to think of it, Tatsuki sure hadn't seen Ichigo shirtless for a long time. Couldn't even compare him and Kon, in that respect. Not that it was something she missed or felt upset about--because nothing with Ichigo was awkward to her, really--but it was just strange that she didn't have that base to compare to. Ah, well. Maybe she'd try to convince him to take a shirt of hers next time.

"Anyway, uh, sorry for just yanking you to the gym like that," Tatsuki laughed, the spontaneity of her assault back on the street finally hitting home now that the two of them were done working out. "Really, if it's too much trouble or whatever, you can cancel--I've got strings I can pull with the administration here."

Kon didn’t really want to think about himself, or Ichigo, as tubs of lard, either, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. They’d make terrible fat men, for sure, and the mental image could only be augmented by throwing in a guitar, singing, and a lot of jumping around on a sweaty stage, under all those lights.

He laughed, and continued, “Hey, I’m glad too.”

Kon wasn’t so sure about the continued membership, though. Now that he knew Ichigo (and more importantly, Snaggletooth) came here on a regular basis, he was pretty sure that was something he should avoid. As well, he hadn’t seen too many worthwhile girls while here, because he’d be stuffed away in this room.

“Nah, it’s okay, I’ll do it,” he replied, anyway.

Might as well, right? One more excuse to get away from the Great Corporate Dumbness and its "now you are a puppet!" ideas.

Tatsuki grinned. "All right!"

Rubbing the towel over her head one last time, Tatsuki walked towards Kon, then offered her hand for a shake.

"Well then, guess we'll be working together for a while, then. And if you go back on your word and don't show up tomorrow, you know I'll hunt you down."

He took her hand and shook it. She shook hands like a guy, in his not-so-humble opinion. Tatsuki wasn’t exactly the epitome of femininity, which was Kon’s favourite thing in a girl, but at least she had tits, which made up for the guyishness.

Not that boobs determined femininity, anyway.

“Yeah, I don’t doubt you will,” he replied, ever-cheerful, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then!”