Week #1- Ms. Mikami
Title: Today Tomorrow
Rating: About PG. This shouldn't scar anyone for life, like some of the Mello stuff I've read.
Characters: If I told you anything, that would spoil everything.
Warnings: It's very silly; if anything, this entry should only make the other ones look better.
Word Count: 393
Some of the store clerks gave her odd looks as she entered the ladies' department, but she wasn't expecting anything else. Somehow, no matter where she went, she felt out of place; from the stifling office to the loneliness of home, her life was nothing but feeling mismatched. But... on the news today, Kira had struck again, killing a pair of pedophiles, and the news was like a ray of sunlight to a flower kept in the dark for years. So, today, she was going to call herself "Hana." She was in love.
Quickly lifting away her sunglasses to make sure that no one she knew was there, Hana approached the clerk, who drew back. "Is everything all right, s--"
"Everything is great!" Hana said, forcing a smile. "I want to try on a few dresses. Do you have any recommendations, for what would look good on me?"
"Your clothing... that you're wearing, right now, looks fine on you," the clerk said, eyes wide. "If you REALLY want to buy a dress, though, I'd go with an a-line cut..."
"Because I have no hips," Hana said, scratching the back of her head with a slightly neurotic laugh. "Yes, yes, I know... but it's wedding dresses I want to see. Is that OK?"
"I.... never would have guessed..." the clerk said, but she led Hana to the section of the store that contained wedding dresses. Hana kept glancing over her shoulder to confirm that no one who might recognize her was present; so far, she seemed to be in the clear.
Hana wasted no time in choosing the most elegant, creamy, beautiful gowns, seizing as many as she could wrap her arms around and carrying them to the dressing room. She tried on the first one, plumping the bodice as best she could; she wasn't really built for a dress like this, but she swept her disheveled black hair up on top of her head and spun around giddily, holding her discarded suit jacket and pretending that someone else was wearing it.
She couldn't stop herself. "Today, Ms. Mikami," she giggled. "Tomorrow... Mrs. Kira."
Just then, the door to the dressing room burst open. Seething outside was a very angry middle-aged woman, who looked a great deal like "Hana's" mother. "Teru Mikami!" she shouted, slapping him. "What the HELL are you doing!?"
Rating: About PG. This shouldn't scar anyone for life, like some of the Mello stuff I've read.
Characters: If I told you anything, that would spoil everything.
Warnings: It's very silly; if anything, this entry should only make the other ones look better.
Word Count: 393
Some of the store clerks gave her odd looks as she entered the ladies' department, but she wasn't expecting anything else. Somehow, no matter where she went, she felt out of place; from the stifling office to the loneliness of home, her life was nothing but feeling mismatched. But... on the news today, Kira had struck again, killing a pair of pedophiles, and the news was like a ray of sunlight to a flower kept in the dark for years. So, today, she was going to call herself "Hana." She was in love.
Quickly lifting away her sunglasses to make sure that no one she knew was there, Hana approached the clerk, who drew back. "Is everything all right, s--"
"Everything is great!" Hana said, forcing a smile. "I want to try on a few dresses. Do you have any recommendations, for what would look good on me?"
"Your clothing... that you're wearing, right now, looks fine on you," the clerk said, eyes wide. "If you REALLY want to buy a dress, though, I'd go with an a-line cut..."
"Because I have no hips," Hana said, scratching the back of her head with a slightly neurotic laugh. "Yes, yes, I know... but it's wedding dresses I want to see. Is that OK?"
"I.... never would have guessed..." the clerk said, but she led Hana to the section of the store that contained wedding dresses. Hana kept glancing over her shoulder to confirm that no one who might recognize her was present; so far, she seemed to be in the clear.
Hana wasted no time in choosing the most elegant, creamy, beautiful gowns, seizing as many as she could wrap her arms around and carrying them to the dressing room. She tried on the first one, plumping the bodice as best she could; she wasn't really built for a dress like this, but she swept her disheveled black hair up on top of her head and spun around giddily, holding her discarded suit jacket and pretending that someone else was wearing it.
She couldn't stop herself. "Today, Ms. Mikami," she giggled. "Tomorrow... Mrs. Kira."
Just then, the door to the dressing room burst open. Seething outside was a very angry middle-aged woman, who looked a great deal like "Hana's" mother. "Teru Mikami!" she shouted, slapping him. "What the HELL are you doing!?"