Victory was hers.  Her smirk turned triumphant as Izumi-san dejectedly trudged back into the dressing room, keeping one ear on the stammering Iijima-san.  She loved it when she got it her way.  Except now she had to gently let down the other girl who looked extremely eager to tag along.  Well, she had until Izumi-san to get out to get around to that.<br/><br/><span style="color: pink"> “I’m so glad you’re willing to join us, Iijima-san!   I’ve been having a hard time finding clothes for Izumi-san.. mostly he’s just dragging his feet everywhere. Men.”</span>She sighed miserably, inviting the other girl to share in the common pain of trying to get men to go shopping.<br/><br/>“Well..”  Iijima-san glanced furtively at the dressing room Izumi-san had walked into, “I think Izumi-san looks nice normally as well.”  It was best when he wore his white t-shirts; she didn’t think Izumi-san had realized they were semi-transparent when he stood in front of the window.  Her fingers toyed with her phone at the memories.<br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“Not even school children wear clothing as bad as his.”</span>Hinata countered scornfully.  Uniforms were common in Japan and most had the students dressed up rather formally.<span style="color: pink">“And he’s going to an official function.  He should at least look presentable then: fitted pants, fitted shirt.  It’s not like I’m asking him to wear high fashion.”</span>She sighed in exasperation, unaware that Iijima-san was now imagining Izumi-san on a runway.  Male models normally went topless on runways…right?<br/><br/>The silence was broken by the sudden slamming of cloth on wall.  Both women turned to see Izumi-san dash past them as if Godzilla was behind him.  The two women blinked in incomprehension before Hinata finally looked into the dressing room.  Nope, no Godzilla.  Only a discarded pair of dress slacks, collared shirt, and a forlorn tie.<br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“. . . Is he <span style="font-style: italic">always</span> this dramatic?”</span><br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~</div><br/>Hinata sighed impatiently, heels clicking as she followed Iijima-san towards a bookstore.  After Izumi-san had ditched them, she’d been ready to call it a day.  He’d agreed to wear proper clothing for the convention and she had proper clothes for him.  She got everything she needed for the day.  She even had a convenient excuse as to why she couldn’t clean his apartment; she didn’t have the keys in and he was gone!<br/><br/>Unfortunately, Iijima-san didn’t share her enthusiasm for leaving Izumi-san to his own devices.  The younger girl had insisted that they catch up to Izumi-san,<span style="font-style: italic">just in case</span>.  As Hinata had no good excuse to leave, she’d been dragged along and as Iijima-san had foretold, a familiar purple-haired man showed up.<br/><br/>Izumi-san’s face seemed to match her own: neither were happy to see the other.<br/><br/>The pink-haired woman cast a glance at the now hesitant looking preteen.  The boy was gripping some cartoon magazine in his hand.  Ugh, such filth.  However, appearances needed to be maintained and even though she despised manga, it<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>her job to help her charge.  Why did this job increasingly feel like a deal with the devil?<br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“Hello! What’s that in your hand?”</span>She asked the child cheerfully, polite smile in place.  The boy blushed and thrust the book out in her direction: Shounen Jump.  Great.<span style="color: pink"> “Would you like Izumi-san to sign it for you?”</span>The boy nodded jerkily so she delicately took the book as if it was contaminated and deposited it into Izumi-san’s still frozen hands.<span style="color: pink"> “Izumi-san..”</span>She prompted, finally getting him to react.  By the time the book was signed, a picture taken (and she cringed at the thought of his messy appearance caught on film), the grumbling of Izumi-san’s stomach could be heard.<br/><br/><span style="color: pink"> “Iijima-san, could you be a dear and go grab some lunch for Izumi-san?”</span>Hinata asked, finally spotting a chance to get rid of the other girl.  It was hard to threaten Izumi-san with Iijima-san if the girl was standing right next to them.<span style="color: pink">“Since you know him so well, I’m sure you’ll be able to pick out something he enjoys eating.”</span><br/><br/>The compliment was enough to send the blushing girl scurrying off and give Hinata the time needed to drag her wayward charge into a less populated area where she could drop the polite façade.<span style="color: pink"> “Listen.”</span>She cut in before Izumi-san could start making any more excuses.<span style="color: pink"> “I don’t care. Don’t even waste my time with your insincere excuses.  Your options are either we are going to keep shopping together <span style="font-style: italic">without</span> you running off or I’m going shopping and buying your clothes for you.”</span>Seeing the rising hope in Izumi-san’s eyes, Hinata quickly clarified,<span style="color: pink"> “but if so, you’re wearing exactly what I buy you, even if it’s a three piece suit.”</span>That was a lie—there was no way she was letting him show up in a tuxedo to an<span style="font-style: italic">anime</span>convention—but he didn’t need to know that.