The Berkley Apartments - 302

Clearly, apartment 302 is a bachelor's land that knows no womanly
touch. While the apartment is clean, even immaculate, it's hard to
mistake the gender preferences of the decor. The main room is
painted a neutral creme color with a tan border that displays many
different kinds of fish around the world; On the walls, glass-
windowed storage cabinets hold poles, tack and bridle for horses,
nets, ropes, and any number of bestiary-related clutter, most of
which can't possibly be of any use in the city. Tools hang on a cork
board on the far wall, ranging from different gauges of wire to a
welding torch. Contrastingly, the kitchen is decked out in warm
shades of red and white, with an expansive spice set and expensive
cutlery visible among the otherwise immaculate countertops. Stranger
yet is the complete absence of electronics; No clock, TV, radio, or
telephone grace the entire apartment, and both the table and the
massive bed that sits in the bedroom seem handmade, if awkwardly so.

*Bang**bang**bang*  Clearly Sayuri has no sympathies for possible
hangovers as she raps loudly on Chase's door.  Checking her watch,
she frowns slightly and then knocks again.  He should be in, ne?

Chase is one slow seishi. Eventually, the door is opened. A crack, a
squinting eye, and then a smirk. Invite her over once, and now she
just keeps coming back. Chase sighs as the door opens a little
further, showing a slightly rumpled teenager, bedhair and
all. "Leave something here?"

Sayuri is like a bad venereal disease that way.  Blinking up at the
other teenager, she smiles sweetly and shakes her head.  "Just
wanted to check on you, Tomi-kun.  Last I saw you, you were passed
out on the couch."  And then she'll return his smirk with one of her
own, cocking her head slightly and asking, "How's the head?  Hurt
much?"  Lifting up a bag that contains tomato juice, Tabasco,
Worcestershire sauce, salt, pepper, and best of all, vodka.  "I've
got the remedy right here."  Yeah, best way to get over a hangover
is to drink it away.

"Seeing me sleep on the couch is a common occurrence. Do it all the
time." Along with being woken up by one nasty, smelly, slobbery
tongue laving over your face is another, care of Benito. He squints
at her a moment longer before opening the door wider to issue her
within, and then close it softly behind the girl. "Uh... Thank you.
My head is... still attached to me, even if I'd rather just chop it
off." Oh, the throbbing. "Remedy?"

"So you pass out frequently, then?"  Sayuri shakes her head with a
tsk.  "Anou, why are you such a lightweight, then?"  Stepping within
the apartment, she reaches up to pat Chase against the cheek,
grinning widely.  "Trust me, Tomi-kun.  I'll have you feeling happy
in just a few moments."  Forget that he'll have to deal with another
hangover when the buzz wears off.  Making her way into the kitchen,
she tosses over her shoulder, "Where are you glasses kept?  Ne, I
suppose I can find them on my own."

"Not that frequently," Chase protests half-heartedly, trailing after
her. "And I'm not a... well, you make it just sound like I'm
pathetic." He'll just blame the gods or something. Cheek pat is
garnered a blink, and then another squint after her, "Happy?" Yes,
another echo. "They're in the cupboard near the sink. Wait... did
you just call me Tomi-kun?"

Opening the freezer, Sayuri pulls out a tray of ice, setting it on
the counter along with her groceries.  Taking down a clean glass,
she holds it up to the light before shrugging.  Clean enough.  "Do
I?  Well then, I must apologize Tomi-kun.  You're not pathetic.  Not
at all."  Snigger.  "Hai, very happy.  Blissfully happy.  Just don't
pass out again."  She pulls out her ingredients, mixing them
together in the glass.  Most of the concoction's a combination of
tomato juice and vodka, but the Worcestershire sauce and Tabasco are
added for flavor.  Dropping a few ice cubes in as well as a dash of
salt and pepper, she turns to hand the glass over to Chase with a
beam.  "Here you go, drink it all.  I promise you'll be feeling
better soon."  And then she'll lean back against the counter and nod
her head.  "Hai, Tomi-kun, short for Tomite, ne?  At least that's
what you told me last night."

Chase watches her as she works, looking all the more skeptical as
time goes on. "It isn't like I meant to go to sleep on you in the
first place," he mutters. Yes, go to sleep. Not pass out. Sure. "But
it seems you made it out fine. Sorry about that." Glass is taken and
squinted at once again, "All?" Oh lordie. He'll then blink over the
rim and to Sayuri, "I did? I.. uh... I suppose I did." His gaze
flickers to the side for a moment, looking a little guilty. "Were
you the one that wrote that over my forehead?" Hand reaches up to
lightly tap on the spot where vigorous scrubbing has left a slightly
redder streak over his forehead and the faint hint of letters.

Well, Chase is a lightweight.  "Half," Sayuri temporizes.  "I'll
finish it off."  Gotta love Bloody Mary's in the morning.  Though
it's early afternoon now.  Certainly not too early to start
drinking, ne?  "Oh you didn't," she lies with a giggle.  "Kenny-san
had come home and you passed out draped all over him."  Gotta love
those half-truths.  As his gaze flickers to the side, she patpats
the Genbu's arm.  "Don't look so worried, Tomi-kun, it's not like I
believed anything that you told me.  Kenny-san said that you start
talking gibberish when you're drunk."  Squinting and leaning up to
study his forehead, she can't help but snigger again as the faint
bits of the word 'Stupid' make themselves known.  "Oh no, that
wasn't me.  I think that might have been a result of your roommate. 
He duct taped your mouth shut, you know."

Chase still eyes the drink with something of disbelief. "I was /so/
not draped all over Kenny." He'd start twitching if that was
true. "I couldn't have been...." Right? "He'd have decked me before
that would happen." Yeah, now he sounds a bit more sure of
himself. "You didn't believe...? Oh, good. Yeah, gibberish." Another
glance flickered to the side a little uneasily. "Lots of gibberish."
He looks into the contents of the glass again, sighs, and then
starts chugging 'til a little more than half is gone.

"You weren't draped for long," Sayuri notes with a giggle.  Yeah,
she's giggling.  But if Chase says anything, she'll deck him.  "So
you don't remember anything from last night," she drawls, slinking
over towards the teenager.  She infringes upon his personal space,
casting a questioning glance into his sea-green eyes before
relieving him of the glass and stepping back.  Arching an eyebrow,
she just looks smug.  "Pity."  And then she'll finish off the drink,
licking her lips after it's all gone thoughtfully.  "Needs more
Tabasco.  You should have said something, Tomi-kun."

Chase gasps as the glass is drawn back down, coughing once. "Rice
wine that isn't..." he mutters, drawing the back of his hand over
his lips. A few blinks to try to gather his senses back together,
and suddenly Sayuri is closer, "Maybe some things, I might remember.
Fuzzy, you know. Like the gibberish. Wild imagination, eh? I've been
accused of that on more than one occasion." He draws back a step
though, small of his back coming up against the lip of the kitchen
counter to stop him. "It was.. fine."

Darn, he does remember a bit.  Guess that means that Sayuri can't
mess with his mind.  Pity.  "It's a Bloody Mary," she notes with a
negligent smile, blinking as Chase steps backwards.  And she can't
help but try to press him further, stepping into his personal space
again, but just a hair breath's separation so she's not quite
touching him.  "You're awfully skittish, Tomi-kun.  Perhaps you *do*
remember what I'm talking about," she laughs, a low and husky sound,
letting him try to recall or jump to his own conclusions as he sees
fit.  Because she's evil that way, and playing with a hungover Chase
is almost as much fun as playing with a drunk one is.  "Anou..." 
And here she'll lick her lips again, gathering any remnants of the
drink to taste again.  "It wasn't, but perhaps you haven't had one
before?"

Chase reaches a hand up, dragging it slowly through his hair,
because if he were to pull a little harder, that throbbing would
just increase. He'll just have to wait for that drink to effect him.
Disconcerted looks follows as she steps even closer, but it is
quickly followed up by his crooked grin, albeit a little hesitant in
appearing. "Some. Pure silliness, it was. I really need to stop
reading that pulp fiction." Lip-licking is noted with
wariness, "Uh... no?"

Sayuri laughs and decides to give the boy a break, stepping away
from him quickly and returning to the ingredients on the counter. 
She closes the vodka bottle and places the juice in the
refrigerator.  The alcohol and spices are left on the counter as she
searches around for a trash can to throw the plastic bag away
in.  "Oh, is that where you got those stories from?  Kenny-san
seemed rather upset when you called him Inami," she notes
blandly.  "Strange that he'd get so worried about some silly
stories, ne?"  But she'll keep her back to him as she talks, using
her cleaning up as an excuse to face away from the seishi.  "Well
then, I'll have to come over more.  Get you in the habit.  I like
the general spiciness of the drink, it's got an interesting flavor,
no?"

Chase's shoulders slump in relief as she starts away, moving to
place his hands upon the lip of the counter while watching
her. "Amazing what odd sort of things show up in books." He gestures
to the cabinet under the sink for where she can find the
trash. "Kenny gets grumpy if you throw garbage can lids at him. He
gets grumpy if Benito looks at him funny. I'm not surprised that he
got grumpy if I called him something other than Kenny. Bet you if I
called him an ass, he'd react the very same way." He continues to
watch her, "It is fine, I suppose."

Sayuri peeks over her shoulder at the seishi, a grin flitting across
her features.  "How's the head, any better?"  Tossing away the bag,
she turns and mimics Chase's pose, one eyebrow quirking upwards in
askance.  "Funny, Kenny-san doesn't seem like the high-strung type. 
He's actually got this calmness about him, Tomi-kun.  Can't imagine
he'd get mad at little inconsequentials."  She crosses her arms,
leaning back and notes, "That's no surprise, I'd get mad if you
called me an ass."  And the she's pushing off the counter and
walking into the living room.  "Anou... remember anything about our
dares?"

Chase makes a conscious effort to see if his head is hurting, and is
surprised to note that the throbbing has abated, "Much better, I
think." Pushing away from the counter as well, he is once more
trailing after her like some kind of obedient puppy-dog. "No, not
high-strung, not in that way." But he is frowning at this discussion
about his roommate, shaking his head slightly so as not to jar
anything too loose inside. "But I haven't called you an ass, little
girl. As for the dares, I know that you owe me one" The other is
conveniently forgotten or something.

"And you'd better not call me one or I'd have to pummel you," Sayuri
returns with a growl.  Turning to face the seishi, she smirks, "And
you owe me one as well."  She casts a speculative gaze at the boy,
studying him from head to toes before nodding and starting to slip
off her shoes and socks.  "Good, you look to be about my size.  Have
a tee-shirt and a pair of shorts I can borrow?"

"I'm not going to call you one." Chase gestures vaguely back towards
his bedroom. You know, the room with the Legolas poster, figurine,
gun and archery equipment in the closet, and the dream catcher. "I
might... why?" His gaze drops down to her bare feet, and then slides
up her form to her face once more.

Trotting into the Genbu's bedroom, Sayuri blinks at the poster as
it's arranged quite prominently on his blank wall.  "Anou... I
thought that you didn't like the elf."  But that's just a side
comment as she makes her way to the closet, whistling at the archery
equipment before she browses through the clothes on the hangers. 
Isn't Tomite's old outfit hanging up there, you know, the one with
the hat?  "Because I need to borrow them," she answers his question
with a matter-of-fact tone.  "It defeats the purpose of my dare if
I'm parading around in just my underwear."  She peeks her head out
of the closet to grin wolfishly at Chase.  "Don't worry so, little
boy.  I think you'll like my dare."

"I didn't put that up there in the first place. Someone else did. I
just haven't taken it down yet," Chase responds, remaining in the
main area, but glancing off in Sayuri's direction anyway. And yes,
the period outfit is there as well, with hat -although the hat is
set up on the shelf above. Come on, it is authentic and everyone in
his tribe wore one. Can't beat tradition. "I really wouldn't mind if
you did parade around in your underwear..." Because he really can't
figure out why she would be stripping anywho. "If you keep
stripping, I might just like this dare too."

Not finding what she wants in the closet, Sayuri heads over to the
dresser, but not before she calls out, "Nice hat."  Rummaging
through the drawers, she finds what she's looking for.  An old, worn
tee-shirt and a loose pair of shorts.  The comfortable sort.  "Don't
come in here," she calls, quickly unbuttoning her blouse and sliding
it off.  Pulling on the tee-shirt, she starts on her skirt, trying
to keep up the muffled conversation as she changes.  "Someone has
funny taste then," she comments.  "I like the woven thing above the
bed a lot better."  Yeah, she's never seen a dreamcatcher before and
has no idea about its use or even its implications.  "Ne, Tomi-kun,
you really are a guy."  And she'll roll her eyes as she switches the
pleated skirt for the loose shorts.  And then she's making her way
out of his room, shirt and skirt in hand as she holds them out to
him.  "Your turn to strip, little boy."

Chase scratches at the back of his neck as he waits. "Thanks." At
least someone likes the hat. He really should invest in another ball
cap soon too, seeing as his other was probably torn to shreds or was
digested through some Thing's digestion track down in the Yin
temple. But he doesn't go in, but does cast a curious glance towards
the bedroom. As she emerges in his clothes, he really does blink
now. She is honestly in his clothes. And the fuku being handed to
him. "Excuse me?"

"Strip."  The word is said blandly, Sayuri offering Chase her quirky
grin.  "My dare is for you to wear my fuku - socks too - for the
day.  And yeah, we're going out on the town, too."  Shaking the top
and skirt, she adds with an arching brow, "Now are you going to
change or will I have to do it for you?"  Remembering something, she
reaches into the shirt's front pocket and pulls out two elastic
bands.  Oh yeah, she's doing the Genbu's hair in pig-tails too, if
she can pull it off.  "Unless you're going to welch, little boy."

"The day!" Chase bursts, gaping at Sayuri. Wide eyes, dropped
jaw. "I am so not going to wear your uniform! You have got to be
crazy. There is no way you are going to get me into that, at all.
And out on the town... insane! I'm not some freakin' cross-dresser
or some sick guy that gets off wearing a girl's school uniform."
Rant. Rave. Basically turning a little red here. "And you have got
to be out of your freakin' mind if you think I'm willingly going to
put that on my body!" At the mention of welching though, he scowls.
Scowls heavily. If there is one thing he doesn't willingly do,
that's renege on a bet, dare, etc... "Sayuri..." Whine.

Sayuri tosses the clothing onto the couch beside Chase and conjures
up her blade.  "I said strip," she growls.  "I wouldn't want to have
to slice up that nice comfy red shirt and those jeans of yours to
get you out of them."  His rant falls on deaf ears as she studies
the seishi with a quirked brow.  "If you're not going to wear it and
go out with me, then you're reneging."  She shrugs her shoulders
with a negligent lift, "Though if you don't do you dare then I won't
have to do mine, ne?"  She blinks.  "Thought you liked the idea of
school uniforms, Tomi-kun.  I'm willing to share for the day." 
Isn't that nice of her.  "But you're changing the subject, strip or
be stripped."

Chase winces. Gah. Dagger conjuring fizzles in his chi sense, and
thus the faint hangover still present. Ouch. He'll vigorously rub at
the back of his neck now. Heebie-geebies. The teenager drops back a
step in wariness though. "I'm not reneging. But you realize though,
that whatever I come up with is going to be do awful you'd rather go
back to class then do it, right?" But the fuku is eyed, especially
the shirt. No way that'll fit over his chest. Simply can't...
right? "Do we have to go out in public?"

Sayuri isn't heartless, not at all.  "We can stay in," she smiles
magnanimously.  "And just have a small party with you and a couple
of your closest friends, if you prefer?"  Blinking at the wince she
belatedly remembers his chi sense and hangover and then flashes her
teeth again.  "Oops, sorry about that?"  And yet she doesn't seem
too apologetic at all.  The shirt may not fit, but Sayuri's willing
to let him pull a tank top on underneath it and tie the two ends
together to reveal his sexy belly button.  Just as she's willing to
let her socks be stretched.  "And try your worst, little boy.  You
won't see me squirming or trying to get out of the deal."  Yeah, she
says that now.

"Benito counts as a close friend, right?" Well, John did seem to be
able to pull of the Centurion metal skirt, but a fuku is a
whole 'nother story. Hand tightens around the uniform and then he
jabs a finger at her, "Nobody shows up. You keep your mouth shut
over this, and just so you know, this is /not/ my fetish. Maybe it
is yours to see me in it though." Weird fangirl fantasies.

Sayuri bargains, "Fine, no one shows up, but I get to do your hair
and take pictures."  She can't believe that he's actually willing to
wear the fuku.  She thought for sure that he'd draw the line, thus
save her from her own dare.  But seeing him in the uniform's enough
to make whatever he does to her more than worth it.  "And just who
would I tell," she blinks innocently, flashing her white teeth
again.  Doesn't she look ever so trustworthy.  "I thought you didn't
have any fetishes?"  She flops onto the couch beside the uniform and
then laughs huskily.  "Oh no, that's not my fetish, not at all.  You
were closer to it last night, you know," she adds in an off-hand
manner.  "Though you probably don't remember that at all."

Chase starts for the bedroom, only to hesitate, "Hey now, you didn't
say anything about pictures." There is no way he is going to do this
for all of posterity to snicker at. And so, he'll stand there
instead, because pictures of this would be /bad/. Very bad.
Extremely bad, especially if they were to get into the hands of
anyone he knows. "The point objects things?"

Sayuri blinks innocently over at Chase, "Pictures or friends, little
boy.  Though I will promise not to show the pictures to any of your
friends.  How's that?"  She leans back against the couch, tossing
her dagger back and forth.  She'll wait until he's gone to *poof* it
in hopes of not twinging that chi sense of his again.  Perhaps she
really was sorry about that.  "Something like that," she waves a
hand, smirking over at the seishi.  "But we're not talking about my
fetishes again, are we?"

Chase grimaces, hands dashing through his hair once more. Something
akin to a growl sounds deep in the back of his throat though before
glaring back up to her, "You really are quite evil, you know that,
Sayuri?" Of course she knows that. Moot point. Fuuku is taken up
again and he stalks into the bedroom, muttering things better left
unknown. "I /don't/ have a fetish." And thus comes the sounds of
clothes rustling.

Now if Sayuri were truly evil, she'd follow the seishi into the room
to watch.  But she's not, so she remains idle, taking a moment to
return her dagger into it's insubstantial chi form.  "Anou... do you
have a camera I can borrow, Tomi-kun?  Else we'll have to walk down
to the corner market together to pick up a disposable one."  Because
she didn't bring hers.  Ah heck, she's a girl who likes thrills,
thus she'll get up off the couch and trot towards his room, peeking
into it while keeping her body in the hallway.  That way she's
technically not in his room, right?  "And sure you do, we all have
fetishes, ne?  Let's see... you like stripping, ne?  Well, that's a
fetish."

Chase is struggling. Shirt is brought around, and unable to be
buttoned about his torso, and the skirt is eyed skeptically. He
might be skinny, but he isn't that skinny. The teenager hesitates
though, glancing towards the closet, "Yeah, I've got a camera." Nice
one too. Expensive and able to zoom in really well. Brand new too
considering the other was stolen. The sense of her being at the door
causes him to smile wryly, but he'll not say anything. After a
moment though, he does try to pull it on. "Just think Scot. Scots
wore kilts. It is only a kilt," he mutters, unable to fasten the
back.

Sayuri will now whistle, because she's a brat that way.  "Suits you,
Tomi-kun."  And since he's half-way decent, she'll saunter into the
room.  "Though a little small on you.  I didn't think I was that
small," she frowns, tugging at her borrow tee-shirt.  "These seem to
fit all right."  She tugs on the two loose ends of the shirt,
knotting them up together to at least form some sort of closure. 
And then she's waving the little elastic bands in front of his face,
smirking.  "Ne, and now for the hair."

Chase flickers a glance under his arm at the peeping Sayuri and
accuses, "Voyeur." But there is at least something of a faint and
teasing grin there instead of the cursing and grumbling of
before. "This thing is /way/ too short. Is my ass showing?" And he
will twist around to try to look, and fail miserably. "Wait.. my
hair too?" Maybe he should have gotten that suggested hair cut.
Another wince and nearly a whimper. "Sayuri... You are so lucky I
don't renege on dares." With a sigh, he plops down on the end of the
bed, staring at those hairbands with sheer horror.

Anana knocks politely on the door. It pays to be polite, really, and
she's actually been behaving herself recently. More or less. There's
a bag in one hand, the sort of bookbag one uses to carry wide-
bottomed objects -- or in this case, food.

"At your service," Sayuri laughs.  And now that he's brought it up,
she'll take the opportunity to study his ass.  "Anou... perhaps a
little."  And she'll pinch just to disconcert him.  "Hai, hai, the
hair too."  And she'll divide the shorter locks in half and tie the
largest portions up with the rubber bands so that he has two rather
disheveled but still awfully kawaii pig tails.  Leaning down to
whisper in his ear, she laughs, "I know, and you're terribly lucky I
don't renege on mine either."  And then there's a knock on the door
that has her bouncing off the bed to open it.  Spying Hatsui, she
flashes a grin in greeting.  "Anana-san, right?"  The girl's dressed
in one of Chase's old t-shirts and a pair of his loose shorts,
running around the apartment barefoot.

"Hey!" comes the first exclamation at the pinch. Chase blinks after
Sayuri, rubbing over the cloth of the skirt. "Okay, now I /know/
you're getting fresh with me and have a thing for people in fuukus."
But now his hair is being fiddled with. Considering the fact that he
had older sisters, this sort of thing has happened before. So he
sits and suffers. The teenager startles at the knock, and then
stares at the door. "Oh damn." He knows exactly who is behind it
too. "Sayuri! Wait..!" Alas, she is fleeing out to answer it and
standing in the doorway to his bedroom.

Hmm. Japanese girl bouncing around in Chase's t-shirt and shorts. Is
it so wrong of Anana to make an assumption and just blink at
Sayuri. "Yeeeeeessss..." she says slowly, peeking around the girl to
look for Chase. No such luck. "I just brought over something for
Kenny and Chase. Chili and rice, if they wanted it." Since she has
her doubts about their cooking skills. "..." That would be her
spotting Chase. In the next moment, she just dissolves into laughter.

"Perhaps," Sayuri teases, and leaves it at that.  Glancing over her
shoulder at Chase, she lifts a brow before turning back towards
Anana and stepping back from the door.  "Come in, come in," she
invites.  Even if it's not ever her place.  "Anou... Chase-kun, do
you want some -"  And then he's there at the bedroom door and she
can't help giggling as well.  "Now this isn't my fault," she
starts.  "You still owe me pictures, no trying to wiggle out of it."

Chase facepalms. Yes, he facepalms right then and there. He just
knows she is looking at his legs. Squinting through his split
fingers, he mutters, "This isn't what it looks like. Not at all.
There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this." Somewhere.
Somehow. Hands reach down to try to tug down on the skirt. He is
then looking back to Sayuri, "Hell no! She counts as a friend, so
now I get out of having my picture taken." Yes, he is quick to jump
on that technicality.

"I don't care-" More giggling. "-if it's your fault-" Snicker. Deep
breath. Okay, that's not working to get Anana calmed down. More
laughter. "-it's hysterically funny!" At least it's down to little
flurries of giggles now, which means some uninterrupted
conversation. "Pictures! Why didn't I bring my camera?" Like she
needs more blackmail material on Chase, really. "What's going on,
though? Who're you?" She looks at Sayuri as she asks this.

"No reneging," Sayuri frowns, stalking over to the seishi and
pinching his bottom again.  And while he's distracted by Anana,
she'll attempt to slip past him and go searching for that camera in
the closet.  "After all, it's not like Anana's a full gathering." 
She flashes the pink-haired girl a wicked grin, stopping in her path
to study the male seishi thoughtfully.  "It's rather becoming on
him, isn't it?"  And then she's blinking.  "Anou... we met before,
in the Met, remember?  I'm Sayuri."  And she'll let Chase explain
the rest as she goes and hunts for the camera.  Mwuahahaha. 
Pictures.

Wince. Anana giggling. Pink-haired girl giggles. Oh boy. Chase rolls
his eyes, giving that skirt another tug in the back for good
measure. But he is being pinched once more, eliciting a squeak and a
slap at Sayuri's hands. He gives Anana something of a reproachful
glance before smirking, "It's a dare. Nothing more. She dared me. I
did it. You saw, and all is done with." As if he is going to hold
still now for a photo now. Finger wags at Anana, "No pictures for
you either."

"In the sense that it's funnier than anything, yep," Anana agrees,
still looking at Chase, who seems to be dressed in Sayuri's school
fuku with his hair up in pigtails (as much of it as would, that
is). "Oh, right, I remember. You were with Brice for a while. I'm
sure you're very good at the dares... and Chase, what could have
provoked you to wind up in /this/ kind of a dare?"

Sayuri is in Chase's bedroom, rummaging around in his closet for the
camera that he mentioned earlier.  "Aha!"  Dashing back out into the
main room with the Genbu's camera, she flashes her evil grin
again.  "Anou Chase-kun, if you don't let me take pictures, I'll
consider it a renege and you'll have gone through this whole
embarrassment for nothing."  Because if he reneges, she's a free
teenager, owing him nothing.  "So strike a pose, little boy, for
posterity's sake."

"Playing for dares in poker," Chase mutters. Another tug to the
skirt. Another squint is shot towards Anana, "Oh, get that silly
grin off your face and stop looking at my legs." So, Sayuri gets
maybe a few seconds of pose time, mostly with him sticking his
tongue out at her before he is fleeing back into the bedroom, skirt
fluttering. This is so bad. Door slams shut and there is some quick
clothes-changing going on. A moment later and her fuku and socks are
tossed back out, along with the comment, "Revenge is a dish best
served cold."