Iria: Zeiram The Animation Fan Fiction ❯ Fine, YOU Wear the Dress Next Time ❯ 01: In which Iria doesn't sulk. Really. Not at all. ( Chapter 1 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: deathbyanime 
Anime/Manga: Iria: Zeiram The Animation Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Comedy / Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 09.16.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 453 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Iria: Zeiram The Animation Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Comedy / Romance | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 09.16.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.4K | Visits: 453 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
A/N: Answer to Ashumi Mikito Lupin's challenge. More chapters forthcoming. Chapterfics and I don't get along, so suggestions are welcome.
This is the sequel to a previous fic of mine 'It Worked, Didn't It?'. You probably should read that first. (Don't worry, it's short.)
For the sake of covering my ass, I'd like to add that this was written _before_ I'd read KatLady86's Ghosts of the Past. The similarities of the first chapters are coincidence, not plagiarism. Fuji in a tux is just so damn amusing. ^_^
A note about the title: I have a remarkable inability to ever think up a decent title. The title for 'It Worked, Didn't It?' was supplied by a useful fan. As that title, being something that wasn't actually said, but fit the general tone of the story, worked so nicely, I tried for another. It seems much less clever now than it did at the time.
***
Kei glanced up from her homework for a few moments to watch Iria mope about the apartment. She'd been doing quite a lot of that since she and Fujikuro had returned from a job in the city two weeks earlier.
Iria had walked in and made a big show of gargling most of a bottle of Listerine, then pointedly shoved Fujikuro's laundry into his arms.
This made no sense to her, but some self-preservation instinct told her not to ask.
Iria sulked around the apartment a bit more, but didn't do much else of interest. Growing bored, Kei turned her attention back to her homework.
Going to school was the sole bad aspect of living with Iria. Life on the streets hadn't exactly helped her keep up with her age group. Kei frowned and concentrated on a particularly tough math problem.
"Iria, stop pouting for a moment and come over here."
Well, Bob was horribly cheerful today. Iria spared a thought as to how a computerized brain could be cheerful, or any other emotion, then left it to the more creative science fiction writers.
"I'm not pouting."
"Right." Bob's voice was the very definition of unconvinced. "When Gren sulked, he needed a mission that challenged him to snap him out of it."
"I'm *not* sulking. Just because I choose to evaluate the way my life is going in a mature, adult manner does not mean I'm sulking." That Gren had sulked quite frequently was something she didn't dispute.
"Moping, then. Now, for this mission - it's not an actual bounty, but it will certainly bring in money - you'll probably want Fujikuro's help."
"No, I won't."
"So I sent for him to come over here and listen to the details of this task."
As if on cue there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Iria grated. God, even the man's knock was annoying.
Fujikuro wandered in and slumped on the couch, unshaven as usual and looking still half asleep. "This better be important Bob."
"Right, the Santori family of New Brens city are almost certainly involved in criminal activities. Proof of that could be sold to the highest bidder. Maybe them, maybe rival criminals, maybe police." At the mention of money Fujikuro sat up, looking infinitely more interested. "And bringing the Santoris down would certainly help your image with the authorities, what with your tendency to shoot and blow things up." The last was added in a dry tone.
"We know that we're not on the best of terms. Why do you think we came running back from our last job so quickly?"
Iria shot Fujikuro and irritated glance for bringing up that incident, produced a knife from her hair beads, and began cleaning under her fingernails. "So what's our plan?"
One had the feeling that had computers possessed the ability to roll their eyes, Bob would have rolled his at this point.
"The Santoris are exceedingly rich and are prominent among high society. It shouldn't be much trouble for me to procure two invitations to one of their classy dinners."
There was a beat of silence as the hunters in question processed this. Iria's eyes narrowed. "Bob. If you're implying what I think you are, I will not be responsible for my actions."
Fujikuro got it perhaps half a second later. "Fancy clothing dinners, Bob?"
"I own one dress, stuffed into the back of my closet. It hasn't been worn since I was fourteen. There's no good place to put weapons while wearing a dress. Have I made my point?"
Bob gave a theatrical sigh.
Somehow the combination of money, Bob's pleading, and the imminent humiliation of Fujikuro in a tux got Iria to agree. Kei arrived home from school later that day, then fell over after seeing Bob displaying images of dresses while Iria and Fujikuro gave their opinions of them.
"Not wearing that."
"I like it."
"You would, given your taste for two dollar whores."
Kei wondered vaguely if she'd gone insane.
"I could stand wearing that one."
"Iria, it looks like something you'd wear to a funeral."
"So?"
"...Let's just go to the next one."
Saturday afternoon, three hours prior to the party, found Iria dressing while complaining to all within hearing distance.
"Look at this thing. I won't even be able to hide a knife in this." The dress was a shimmery thing with a slit up the side and a neckline that revealed without crossing into the region where Iria would constantly accuse Fujikuro of looking down her dress. It actually looked fairly nice on her.
Within bare seconds of putting on the high heels Iria knew she'd regret them. What kind of sadistic person had invented these things?
Into her purse (newly acquired for just this occasion) went a few knifes and a small gun. A hunter could never carry too many concealed weapons, and unfortunately she'd be lacking the knife in her hair beads. Conforming with the rest of the women who'd be at the party required taking them out.
She'd just put on the very small amount of makeup she'd been talked into wearingwhen Fujikuro made his appearance. Kei let him in, and from the girl's "Um, this is different," Iria felt the need to see for herself.
He was clean shaven for a change, and his hair, which he normally let become lank and greasy out of sheer laziness, had been washed. He seemed almost as uncomfortable in the tuxedo as she was in the dress.
That he was staring at her with something uneasily close to appreciation gave her the jolt she needed to speak. "You look different. Still not someone I'd trust as far as I could throw you, but less of a lowlife than usual."
"Yeah? I was gonna say, you almost look like a female for a change."
Bob sighed. "Children, stop sniping at each other for a bit. You do know the names you're going under?"
"Yes, we've got it."
"And the blueprints of the house with the probable location of the office?"
Fujikuro patted his pocket. Before Bob could pick at them anymore (not being able to accompany them on missions made him edgy) the two were out the door and gone.
A/N: Answer to Ashumi Mikito Lupin's challenge. More chapters forthcoming. Chapterfics and I don't get along, so suggestions are welcome.
This is the sequel to a previous fic of mine 'It Worked, Didn't It?'. You probably should read that first. (Don't worry, it's short.)
For the sake of covering my ass, I'd like to add that this was written _before_ I'd read KatLady86's Ghosts of the Past. The similarities of the first chapters are coincidence, not plagiarism. Fuji in a tux is just so damn amusing. ^_^
A note about the title: I have a remarkable inability to ever think up a decent title. The title for 'It Worked, Didn't It?' was supplied by a useful fan. As that title, being something that wasn't actually said, but fit the general tone of the story, worked so nicely, I tried for another. It seems much less clever now than it did at the time.
***
Kei glanced up from her homework for a few moments to watch Iria mope about the apartment. She'd been doing quite a lot of that since she and Fujikuro had returned from a job in the city two weeks earlier.
Iria had walked in and made a big show of gargling most of a bottle of Listerine, then pointedly shoved Fujikuro's laundry into his arms.
This made no sense to her, but some self-preservation instinct told her not to ask.
Iria sulked around the apartment a bit more, but didn't do much else of interest. Growing bored, Kei turned her attention back to her homework.
Going to school was the sole bad aspect of living with Iria. Life on the streets hadn't exactly helped her keep up with her age group. Kei frowned and concentrated on a particularly tough math problem.
"Iria, stop pouting for a moment and come over here."
Well, Bob was horribly cheerful today. Iria spared a thought as to how a computerized brain could be cheerful, or any other emotion, then left it to the more creative science fiction writers.
"I'm not pouting."
"Right." Bob's voice was the very definition of unconvinced. "When Gren sulked, he needed a mission that challenged him to snap him out of it."
"I'm *not* sulking. Just because I choose to evaluate the way my life is going in a mature, adult manner does not mean I'm sulking." That Gren had sulked quite frequently was something she didn't dispute.
"Moping, then. Now, for this mission - it's not an actual bounty, but it will certainly bring in money - you'll probably want Fujikuro's help."
"No, I won't."
"So I sent for him to come over here and listen to the details of this task."
As if on cue there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Iria grated. God, even the man's knock was annoying.
Fujikuro wandered in and slumped on the couch, unshaven as usual and looking still half asleep. "This better be important Bob."
"Right, the Santori family of New Brens city are almost certainly involved in criminal activities. Proof of that could be sold to the highest bidder. Maybe them, maybe rival criminals, maybe police." At the mention of money Fujikuro sat up, looking infinitely more interested. "And bringing the Santoris down would certainly help your image with the authorities, what with your tendency to shoot and blow things up." The last was added in a dry tone.
"We know that we're not on the best of terms. Why do you think we came running back from our last job so quickly?"
Iria shot Fujikuro and irritated glance for bringing up that incident, produced a knife from her hair beads, and began cleaning under her fingernails. "So what's our plan?"
One had the feeling that had computers possessed the ability to roll their eyes, Bob would have rolled his at this point.
"The Santoris are exceedingly rich and are prominent among high society. It shouldn't be much trouble for me to procure two invitations to one of their classy dinners."
There was a beat of silence as the hunters in question processed this. Iria's eyes narrowed. "Bob. If you're implying what I think you are, I will not be responsible for my actions."
Fujikuro got it perhaps half a second later. "Fancy clothing dinners, Bob?"
"I own one dress, stuffed into the back of my closet. It hasn't been worn since I was fourteen. There's no good place to put weapons while wearing a dress. Have I made my point?"
Bob gave a theatrical sigh.
Somehow the combination of money, Bob's pleading, and the imminent humiliation of Fujikuro in a tux got Iria to agree. Kei arrived home from school later that day, then fell over after seeing Bob displaying images of dresses while Iria and Fujikuro gave their opinions of them.
"Not wearing that."
"I like it."
"You would, given your taste for two dollar whores."
Kei wondered vaguely if she'd gone insane.
"I could stand wearing that one."
"Iria, it looks like something you'd wear to a funeral."
"So?"
"...Let's just go to the next one."
Saturday afternoon, three hours prior to the party, found Iria dressing while complaining to all within hearing distance.
"Look at this thing. I won't even be able to hide a knife in this." The dress was a shimmery thing with a slit up the side and a neckline that revealed without crossing into the region where Iria would constantly accuse Fujikuro of looking down her dress. It actually looked fairly nice on her.
Within bare seconds of putting on the high heels Iria knew she'd regret them. What kind of sadistic person had invented these things?
Into her purse (newly acquired for just this occasion) went a few knifes and a small gun. A hunter could never carry too many concealed weapons, and unfortunately she'd be lacking the knife in her hair beads. Conforming with the rest of the women who'd be at the party required taking them out.
She'd just put on the very small amount of makeup she'd been talked into wearingwhen Fujikuro made his appearance. Kei let him in, and from the girl's "Um, this is different," Iria felt the need to see for herself.
He was clean shaven for a change, and his hair, which he normally let become lank and greasy out of sheer laziness, had been washed. He seemed almost as uncomfortable in the tuxedo as she was in the dress.
That he was staring at her with something uneasily close to appreciation gave her the jolt she needed to speak. "You look different. Still not someone I'd trust as far as I could throw you, but less of a lowlife than usual."
"Yeah? I was gonna say, you almost look like a female for a change."
Bob sighed. "Children, stop sniping at each other for a bit. You do know the names you're going under?"
"Yes, we've got it."
"And the blueprints of the house with the probable location of the office?"
Fujikuro patted his pocket. Before Bob could pick at them anymore (not being able to accompany them on missions made him edgy) the two were out the door and gone.