Valentine's Day Mayhem: Pinapple Flavor
In which it is Valentine's Day, and Pineapple forgot. (RUN AWAY, PINEAPPLE! RUN AWAY.)
Rating: T
So it started out as a regular day. I mean, I woke up with the nagging suspicion I was forgetting something, but I was wearing my pajamas, no pants missing, nothing weird stuck in my hair or anything, so I couldn’t figure out what it was. I remembered I didn’t have any classes, it being a Saturday, so I had work all day. I racked my brains, remembered I didn’t have to open, and went downstairs to get breakfast and say hi to Mitsuko.
Mitsuko had a funny expression, like she knew something I didn’t, but I decided not to bother with it. Sleepiness does that to a bloke. And Mitsuko can be downright scary sometimes. So I had breakfast, ran upstairs to get dressed and fix my hair. I then called Shūhei for a ride. Shū has the sweetest motorcycle you ever laid eyes on, all gleaming black and silver and so very obviously well-taken-care-of. Not long after the two of us were sailing along the road at speeds that probably weren’t safe and definitely weren’t legal. We arrived at the back entrance in no time flat, greeting Ichigo as he ambled in, looking grumpier than usual.
“What crawled up your ass and died?” I asked him, feeling rather curious. Shūhei also looked mildly interested. Ichigo gave us the requisite glare and mumbled something before disappearing into the locker room to get changed. We exchanged confused glances.
“Did you catch any of that?” Shūhei asked. I shook my head.
“Not a word.” There was a sudden, muffled yell of outrage from the locker room, and we exchanged glances again, and came to a wordless consensus to brave the Room Of Horrors. Ichigo was standing in front of his locker, apparently having a staring contest with his uniform. “What’s the matter, berry-head?” I asked. “You wear it every day, not like it’s gonna bitecha or something.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain.” He said grimly, and pulled out his uniform. Shūhei grimaced. I blinked.
“Wait, why’s it different?” I asked. Tōshirō popped his head in and scowled at us.
“Yes, that’s the uniform today, and yes you have to wear it. Manager says if you even drop one part he’ll dock you.” He informed us, looking grouchier than usual too.
“Why?!” Ichigo and I demanded in unison. Shū looked as if someone had just dropped a two-by-four on his head and groaned, palming his face.
“…It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?” He asked. Tōshirō nodded. All of us groaned in unison.
“Do none of you own calendars, or what?” The snowball asked. Shūhei and Ichigo looked sheepish.
“Don’t really use it…” Shūhei mumbled. Ichigo nodded.
“If it’s really important Yuzu usually tells me, only she’s sick today.” He frowned again. “I was wondering why she seemed so disappointed.” They both looked at me.
“Calendars just seem like a waste of money to me. I never use them anyway. I think Mitsuko has one - hey! She knew and she didn’t even have the decency to warn me!” I yelped. Shūhei smirked.
“Yeah, that sounds like Aunt.” He said, running a hand through his hair. Tōshirō rolled his eyes.
“Just get dressed, remember Manager’s warning and get out here to help me with customers already.” He said, annoyed as per usual. I opened my locker and faced the menace. Instead of the usual nondescript black slacks and black button-up, there were white slacks and a white button-up, which I put on without complaint, a dark pink waistcoat, which I put on with much mental bitching, and a white waist-apron with a border of hearts at the bottom and at the tops of the pockets in my signature (at least, signature here) ruby-red. Urahara-bastard has even anticipated me and included a ruby-colored bandanna to hide the majority of my tattoos, which I reluctantly put on.
I turned to inspect my companions, who were dressed much the same way, though Ichigo’s waistcoat was in that weird shade of pink that actually goes with the orange of his hair, and Shūhei had a pale pink waistcoat. Both had heart borders in their colors, although Ichigo’s was a paler shade of orange than usual.
“Well, time to face the music.” I sighed, pushing through the doors and signing myself in on the timesheet.
“Yup.” Ichigo nodded.
“Another day at the madhouse, here we come.” Shūhei said sardonically.
Rating: T
So it started out as a regular day. I mean, I woke up with the nagging suspicion I was forgetting something, but I was wearing my pajamas, no pants missing, nothing weird stuck in my hair or anything, so I couldn’t figure out what it was. I remembered I didn’t have any classes, it being a Saturday, so I had work all day. I racked my brains, remembered I didn’t have to open, and went downstairs to get breakfast and say hi to Mitsuko.
Mitsuko had a funny expression, like she knew something I didn’t, but I decided not to bother with it. Sleepiness does that to a bloke. And Mitsuko can be downright scary sometimes. So I had breakfast, ran upstairs to get dressed and fix my hair. I then called Shūhei for a ride. Shū has the sweetest motorcycle you ever laid eyes on, all gleaming black and silver and so very obviously well-taken-care-of. Not long after the two of us were sailing along the road at speeds that probably weren’t safe and definitely weren’t legal. We arrived at the back entrance in no time flat, greeting Ichigo as he ambled in, looking grumpier than usual.
“What crawled up your ass and died?” I asked him, feeling rather curious. Shūhei also looked mildly interested. Ichigo gave us the requisite glare and mumbled something before disappearing into the locker room to get changed. We exchanged confused glances.
“Did you catch any of that?” Shūhei asked. I shook my head.
“Not a word.” There was a sudden, muffled yell of outrage from the locker room, and we exchanged glances again, and came to a wordless consensus to brave the Room Of Horrors. Ichigo was standing in front of his locker, apparently having a staring contest with his uniform. “What’s the matter, berry-head?” I asked. “You wear it every day, not like it’s gonna bitecha or something.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain.” He said grimly, and pulled out his uniform. Shūhei grimaced. I blinked.
“Wait, why’s it different?” I asked. Tōshirō popped his head in and scowled at us.
“Yes, that’s the uniform today, and yes you have to wear it. Manager says if you even drop one part he’ll dock you.” He informed us, looking grouchier than usual too.
“Why?!” Ichigo and I demanded in unison. Shū looked as if someone had just dropped a two-by-four on his head and groaned, palming his face.
“…It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?” He asked. Tōshirō nodded. All of us groaned in unison.
“Do none of you own calendars, or what?” The snowball asked. Shūhei and Ichigo looked sheepish.
“Don’t really use it…” Shūhei mumbled. Ichigo nodded.
“If it’s really important Yuzu usually tells me, only she’s sick today.” He frowned again. “I was wondering why she seemed so disappointed.” They both looked at me.
“Calendars just seem like a waste of money to me. I never use them anyway. I think Mitsuko has one - hey! She knew and she didn’t even have the decency to warn me!” I yelped. Shūhei smirked.
“Yeah, that sounds like Aunt.” He said, running a hand through his hair. Tōshirō rolled his eyes.
“Just get dressed, remember Manager’s warning and get out here to help me with customers already.” He said, annoyed as per usual. I opened my locker and faced the menace. Instead of the usual nondescript black slacks and black button-up, there were white slacks and a white button-up, which I put on without complaint, a dark pink waistcoat, which I put on with much mental bitching, and a white waist-apron with a border of hearts at the bottom and at the tops of the pockets in my signature (at least, signature here) ruby-red. Urahara-bastard has even anticipated me and included a ruby-colored bandanna to hide the majority of my tattoos, which I reluctantly put on.
I turned to inspect my companions, who were dressed much the same way, though Ichigo’s waistcoat was in that weird shade of pink that actually goes with the orange of his hair, and Shūhei had a pale pink waistcoat. Both had heart borders in their colors, although Ichigo’s was a paler shade of orange than usual.
“Well, time to face the music.” I sighed, pushing through the doors and signing myself in on the timesheet.
“Yup.” Ichigo nodded.
“Another day at the madhouse, here we come.” Shūhei said sardonically.