"I'm not wearing that either, de gozaru," Kenshin said dejectedly, glaring death at the book in Chichiri's hands. "And where did you even get that?"
"Monk space," he offered innocently.
"Not this one either? It shows a lot of cleavage between the pink ribbons," the monk offered helpfully, deliberately changing topics as he shoved his mystery book under the redhead's nose again. "Then again, I guess you're not entirely built for that, no da."
"Quit bugging her," Tasuki interrupted. "If she doesn't want to wear a dress, the least we can do is not shove that stupid book… Holy shit. Kenshin, you have to wear that one."
"That doesn't even qualify as underwear, de gozaru!" he exploded, turning as pink as his clothes.
"No, no da," Chichiri said cheerfully, flipping a few pages forward. "THIS doesn't even qualify as underwear." He held open the pages of his book for Kenshin and everyone else brave enough to look. The article of 'clothing' consisted of one wide band of ribbon twirled around a buxom model like a fine Celtic knot. Kenshin frowned.
"It would never work, de gozaru!" he protested. "That ribbon is blue. Saito would have to wear that one."
At that, Amiboshi made a strangled noise as his eyes rolled back and he fainted, nearly landing in the fire. Far, far away, Suboshi could be heard screaming in horror, his voice three octaves too high. The traumatized squeal was covered effectively as the Bubbleheads burst into hysterical laughter. Mitsukake was preparing sedatives with a serious tick in one eye.
"What?" Tasuki asked confusedly. "She'd look hot in that one." They laughed harder.
"Don't forget that we need matching outfits," Kenshin wheezed, watering eyes landing on Mitsukake. "He's going to look like something that won first place at a county fair."
"You die now," Mitsukake said in perfect seriousness, herb-soaked cloth in hand.
Kenshin ran like hell, still laughing as Tasuki heroically tried to save him by getting in the massive healer's way, fan leading. Not perturbed in the slightest, the big man changed targets and went after Chichiri. The masked monk made a dash towards his belongings on the other side of camp, diving at some of his discarded clothes. Everyone was expecting him to brain himself when he launched himself face first at the ground. Startled looks popped into everyone's expressions when the man simply vanished into his oversized hat.
"Monk space, no da!" echoed from the depths of the strange refuge, followed by more laughter.
"Monk space my ass," Mitsukake muttered, glaring death. A wicked look passed through his eyes and he advanced on the hat menacingly. He started yanking at his belt, a maniacal look covering his face. "Monk space my ass, indeed." Dropping his drawers a bit, he sat down on the hat.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! OH GOD, IT'S EVERYWHERE!" Chichiri's voice rang out in panic.
"Just hold on a minute," Tasuki called, swinging his fan around. Normally, he wouldn't bother to save the twit, but the monk was his crush's friend and he would do just about anything to impress the 'woman' of his dreams. The healer caught his gaze and offered him a look so sinister that the fanged redhead faltered and slowly backed off, not even hearing the blue-haired man's response.
"I'M NOT HOLDING ON FOR A SECOND TO THAT THING!" Chichiri squealed. "AND IT'S CALLED WAX!"
"Complain again and I'm going to ask for bran muffins," Mitsukake called back.
"Then are you going to behave?"
"YES! ANYTHING! JUST GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!"
Mitsukake smirked. "I think I'll just take a nap first."