Previously on With Regards, Bitchy VP: Tsukino Kita got a new penpal, the mysterious and formal sounding Emperor (no points for guessing who he is). Matsumoto Tadashi (resident Pres and even more perfect than Kita), Moto Sadao (secretary and super-planner), and Ueda Yuu (play-boy and treasurer) are her compatriots in the Student Council.

A Kuroko no Basket FanFiction

Insincerely, Perfect

"I love listening to lies when I know the truth."


A problem shared is just another problem

Having just received emails that morning from our penpals, the hot topic on Friday lunch was said buddies.

"My penpal seems alright but I hope he's not as hot as me." Isao proclaimed, winking at me.

I swallowed an involuntary gag.

"Gosh, Isao-kun, stop!" Yuri giggled, swatting his arm.

He shot her a charming smile. "I'm a simple guy."

No disagreement from me.

"Well," Chika said, changing the subject as tactfully as an athlete could, "my penpal is almost illiterate. He talks in abbreviations and uses the pseudonym 'kewl' with a K." Chika hung her head in disgust. "At this point I'm not sure why I even bother replying."

I twittered in laughter, my voice seamlessly melding with the other ones of my 'friendship' group. One of Isao's Kens, the stupider one, turned to me. "How about you Kita-chan?"

Is it crazy to want to copyright my name so that the morons stopped fouling it up?

"Oh. Mine's," literally the most irritating and pompous ass I've ever had the misfortune of writing to, "okay. He's pretty formal though." He's quite amusing to talk to, on the other hand.

"No way. I bet he's some rich heir." Yuri said, preening at the mere thought. "I mean it's school for super rich guys, yeah?"

I smiled indulgently. "I'm not sure, but that would be pretty cool."

"Like Ouran?" Chika asked, looking up from the bento she was opening.

"Oh my god, what if he's Kyoya?" Yuri squealed, grabbing my arm, "can we please swap?"

Everyone laughed and I stood up after a few more minutes of wasted chatter, gesturing to the door. "Anyway, I better go to the rep meeting." Sweet, sweet escape!

They all waved me off and I embraced the brief silence as I walked down the halls to the student council room. The student rep meeting happened once every moth, where the representatives from each part of the school and the student council met up and discussed budgets, rooms, and practice times. While most schools usually gave the brunt of the admin work to the club's teacher supervisor, Tōō's philosophy was all about preparing its students for Real Life, but I was also fairly certain the teachers had wanted to shunt the work onto someone else. Fortunately, the last meeting had had too many people, so Matsumoto and I had cut the individual reps, and just had the ones from each section. Fewer people meant less of a headache.

So the meeting had me, Matsumoto, Moto, Ueda, the sports rep, music rep, arts rep, culture rep, school rep (basically the idiot who looked after the clubs that promoted the school, or actually changed things in the school, like the gardening society), and the other miscellaneous people who were part of the student council but had unimportant jobs like administration.

Bad, but not horrific.

Most of the people there usually came to the weekly student council meeting anyway, but technically we had to reassess any club applications and issues every month.

Horrifically boring and dry.

And the meeting took so long we had to continue it after school as well. The only redeeming feature was that the Tea Society and the Biscuit Appreciation Club catered the afternoons in exchange for increased funding. Technically it wasn't against any rules, so Pres and I kept up with the five-year long tradition of bribery. Speak no evil, see no evil and all.

"Hi guys!" I greeted cheerfully, opening the door to see the room mostly full.

Various people responded as I sat down at the head of the table, Matsumoto to my right and Moto to my left.

Moto had probably teleported to be there a second after the lunch bell rung.

I pulled out the small packet of chips I'd grabbed from my kitchen this morning; that, and an apple I'd eaten on the way here, had been the only things I'd had time to get before I went to school for radio prep.

Ueda grabbed the packet as I opened it, practically taking Matsumoto out to reach across the table. Luckily, Matsumoto was the baseball team's pitcher so he dodged (athleticism and all that) and shot Ueda a measured look. The latter ignored him and instead opened the packet and took a chip. "Well, these are good, but not really good enough for lunch, I think."

He offed one to Matsumoto who declined politely.

"I was running late." I said in an off-hand tone, gesturing for the bastard to give them back.

The play boy smiled as he put them in my hand. "Do you want some of mine?"

I laughed. "Thanks but I'll be fine."

Moto looked at me blankly. "That's not a nutritious lunch."

I looked over at him and shrugged. "It's fine."

Matsumoto cleared his throat and looked at the room at large. "Alright, let's start."

It was only a few minutes later that the first problem arose.

"Seiji," Ueda began, frowning at his best friend as he sorted through the club reports, "where's the basketball team's report?"

Yamada Seiji, the sports rep, grimaced. "Imayoshi refused to submit it. He said he did it last month, so why did he have to do it again?"

Everyone in the room shot him a sympathetic smile. The horror of dealing with Imayoshi (aka the demon-boy voted Most Likely To Join The Yakuza three years running) was a well-known struggle. However, Yamada was also lazy as hell, so I doubted it would've taken more than a firm word to get the report. Demon or not, Imayoshi was unlikely to want his club cut because he didn't fill out some forms.

"Surely it can't be that hard to get him to do his job?" Moto asked, voicing my thoughts in his monotone drawl.

Seiji shivered. "It's that hard."

Matsumoto blinked, his brain taking half a second to come up with a solution. "How about I assign the basketball team to someone else?"

Yamada's pretty face perked up. "For reals Pres? Oh my god I love you."

Matsumoto said nothing to the other boy, instead looking around at everyone else for volunteers. Moto grumbled something under his breath about the world going mad because the sports rep would not be overseeing a sports group and why did he even bother trying anymore.

And although every part of me was dying at the idea of another job, and not a single fibre of my being wanted to volunteer, I smiled at him. "I'm happy to do it." I said in a chipper voice.

Beside me, Moto wrote down the change in oversight. Matsumoto nodded to show his appreciation. Yamada thanked me profusely, and Ueda sighed. "You're too nice for your own good."

Um, no, not really.

"Aw, thanks!"

Matsumoto, luckily, hadn't minded when I'd asked him to cover for me for a few minutes that afternoon. Knowing him, I was sure it would manifest itself in a return favour later, but I was glad he didn't mention that immediately- it gave me the sense of temporary (yet imagined) relief.

So while Matsumoto filled in my spot on the school radio station, I found myself on the way to the gym.



Not only was it a boring sport, but the way Emperor had boasted about his prowess made me irrationally angry toward every basketball player. They should all just die.

I fixed a dazzling smile onto my face as I approached a first year who was entering the gym. Sakurai Ryo, my mind supplied as I cleared my throat. "Hi."

He spun around and would have fallen over if I hadn't grabbed his arm, quickly slipping on a concerned façade. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"O-oh, no, I'm sorry, I should have been paying attention, sorry for the inconvenience!"


Quashing my natural instinct to roll my eyes, I patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Oh don't worry, I'm just glad you didn't fall over! Sakurai, is it?"

He looked slightly stunned. "O-oh yes. You're T-Tsukino-san, aren't you?"

"Yeah." I laughed, rubbing the back of my head. "Am I that notorious?"

"No, no, not at all, I'm sorry for-"

"Don't worry." I repeated, intertwining my arm with his. "I was just wondering if you knew were the captain of the basketball team was?"

"I-Imayoshi-san?" Sakurai laughed awkwardly. "Yes, we're just about to start practice so he's probably inside."

"Lovely. You're so nice!" I shot him the dazzlingly smile I hadn't had the chance to use earlier. "Do you mind taking me to him, if it isn't too much trouble?"

Sakurai nodded. "Of course it isn't! I'm sorry if it came off like it was an imposition because it's really not-"

"OI MUSHROOM!" For a brief second, I struggled to repress laughter at the nickname, instead looking appropriately startled as Wakamatsu Kosuke, second year, strode over to us. "No girlfriends at practice, first year."

Excuse me? Do I look like the kind of person who dates people that can't string together a sentence without apologising for an imagined slight? Do I?

I giggled. "Oh, no, sorry, I was just asking Sakurai-kun to help me find Imayoshi-san." I unwound my arm from the first year and extended a hand to the boy, smiling widely. "Tsukino Kita."

He shook it tentatively. "You're the vice president?"

You bet I am bitch.

"Oh," I chuckled, "yeah. Are you a basketball player?" Although it was obvious by the fact he was wearing training clothes, it was much easier to charm people when you sounded interested in their lives.


Oh great. Ladies and gentlemen- may I introduce the next poet of our generation?

"Wow, that's so cool. Um, I'm really sorry to be interrupting practice, but I was wondering if I could speak to your captain?"

Imayoshi, who had somehow snuck up on me, answered for his teammate. "Of course. Although what the vice pres needs with the basketball team, I can't think."

I turned around, smile now so magnetic it had been known to kill people with kindness. "No big deal."

The third year was every bit the menacing presence that had been described by the near-tears Yamada, and exactly how I remembered him from the few times we'd passed in corridors. "But still, we're so lucky to have been visited by such an," he paused, eyes narrowing to impossibly thin slits, "authority."

Punch him. Kick him. Take his eyes out with a spoon.

"Oh, I just wanted to introduce myself." I clasped my hands together behind my back. "I'm the new supervisor of your club, so if you have any issues or budgeting troubles, just come to me!" I laughed lightly. "Oh, and I was talking to Yamada-san, and he said something about the report not being handed in…?" I giggled. "I'm sure it's fine, but I was wondering if I could just grab a copy of the report?"

It was more likely than not that Imayoshi had planned to just cruise through the year without doing any kind of administrative work, simply by intimidating his club's supervisor, but that was not going to fly with me. I had an image to maintain, and one tiny little club was not going to affect my standing in Tōō.

His smile got bigger. "I already handed in my report."

"Oh, really?" I asked, almost dying with the effort it took to repress my sarcasm. "Wait, do you mean the one you handed in at the beginning of the year?"

He nodded. "It detailed everything for the year."

And that was when I progressed from masterful manipulator to Queen of the Human Psyche. I layered on the apologies thick, sounding like I was going to cry in sympathy at one point, saying how awful it was that the rules required so much of the clubs. How horrible it must be to have to write reports all the time. But how sad it was that if they didn't get handed in, the club got cut. At one point he started to make a point about kids on scholarships for basketball, and what a waste that would be, so I filled my eyes with tears. He also mentioned something about only having just become a powerhouse in basketball last year, so I pulled out my pink, scented tissues, dabbing at my eyes emotionally.

Within ten minutes, I had left the gym, leaving behind an emotional scarred basketball team (most of whom were apparently traumatized by the sight of a crying girl), and a captain who had promised me a report by the end of the night.

Yes, Imayoshi was good- but I wasn't VP for nothing.

That evening, as I sat at my desk and fumed at the unfairness of it all – goddamn Yamada to hell – I wrote a quick email to Empress, feeling my muscles slowly relax as I took out my frustration on the nameless boy.

From: Perfect

To: Empress

Sent: 2:30pm today

Subject: RE: PC program

Dearest Emperor of… what exactly?

Dearest Emperor of Something That Is Probably Pointless,

Honesty isn't something you require? You just lie all day, every day? Are you lying now- do you really hate giraffes?

Of course nothing is without repercussions- but this won't affect my life here, so no repercussions for me in terms of projecting perfection.

My list was better- enough said.

I work all the time, ten minutes to craft a single email twice every week where I get to be honest is hardly taxing. Unless you're saying taking twenty minutes out of a week is too much. Is every second of your day so valuable?

What is the point of basketball? Besides from throwing a ball into a hoop in fifteen minute intervals?

Cats are not companions and giraffes are harmless.

Gold is a horrid colour- why is it your favourite? George Orwell is good but a dry writer, bar his essays. Do you have a favourite writer from the Eastern Hemisphere?

My need for things in three is natural- all the greats love threes.

So you can be witty. 'Espoused verbosely'. Speak for yourself.

Admitting that I am 'only human' is not a failsafe, simply more proof I'm not delusional, unlike you. You clearly have some ego issues that need to be put in check, but no offence.

In terms of honesty about my life though, as I said I would, here is a recap of what irritated me today:

Moronic friends – or as close to what you'd call friends as possible –, ridiculous errands, and the sports representative who is weak-willed waste of space. Oh yes, and the basketball team, who are dense and useless.



P.S. What ability does 'emperor' describe? The ability to be super pretentions and formal?

Despite Chika telling me that Rakuzan only had PC on Friday and Tuesdays (something her ever-so-interesting penpal had told her), I received a reply Sunday morning.

From: Empress

To: Perfect

Sent: 6:04 am today

Subject: RE: PC program

Dear Perfect,

Emperor is a moniker, an allusion, not a title. Emperor of nothing- how disappointing it is to explain basic things to one who claims such high personal standards.

I lie whenever it is necessary, if that is all day, so be it- a set number of lies is a base idea. Although, most often, I find honesty is adequate for situations- as long as people fear you enough, you may speak to them plainly without fear of retribution.

I dislike giraffes, not because of any potential harm they might cause, but simply as I do not like them- weren't you the one who said we were going to be honest?

Truly believing that nothing has repercussions, that no single event can have out-reaching consequences beyond those you foresee, is unimaginably naïve. How do you maintain perfection with such an idealistic, clean-cut view of the world?

I will not argue the virtues, or otherwise, of your list making 'skills,' as I do not wish to waste my time.

Are you really perfect if you have time to waste in your day? Surely you should be furthering your endeavours of perfection? I certainly do not waste my time in such a way.

Club activities promote healthy social and physical interaction. That is the point of them. Basketball is merely another thing I excel in, so I participate in it. Additionally, the physical and mental challenge it presents is fascinating, for those able to understand strategy.

I'm glad you enjoy asking me personal questions then attempting to invalidate my responses. This is amusing. Gold is the colour of success. My favourite writer is Ōe Kenzaburō.

It is not an 'ego issue' if I am simply able to asses my strengths and state them. To suggest otherwise leads me to think that your grasp of basic language is lacking. Consequently, your grip of esoteric concepts is something I wish to never have the misfortune of encountering. If I were exaggerating it would be boasting, but I have no need to exaggerate or speak in hyperboles like yourself.

Thank you for your superfluous list of things that 'irritated' you. It seems more and more like you enjoy complaining, and put yourself in situations you can gripe about.

If you cannot stand your 'friends' then I suggest making new ones, surely it is not that difficult with all that popularity you claim to possess?

Tōō's basketball team does lack a certain grace and intelligence, I grant you that.



P.S. It has to do with basketball. I doubt you would understand.

Although I knew I had other things to do, I replied pretty quickly, equal parts amused at the ridiculousness of the situation, aggravated by his aloofness and downright bullshit, and vindictive as I took out my frustration on my entire school on him.

From: Perfect

To: Empress

Sent: 8:55 am today

Subject: RE: PC program

Dear Emperor,

I was kidding. I know you're the Emperor of Vanity and Insolence. And, I don't claim high personal standards, I embody them.

I don't have a set number of lies, and I wasn't suggesting you did, but it's a little hard to believe that you can lie whenever you want, however frequently, and not be at all affected. Clearly, even I am- I'm being honest here even though I have no reason to be besides the want to stop dolling out platitudes all day.

I am calling bullshit. No one dislikes giraffes, and for someone who talks about how they've turned themselves into the perfect sociopath, I find it impossible to believe you irrationally hate the animal.

My view is not idealistic- emailing you will not affect my standing in Tōō, whatever repercussions there may be. All events have repercussions, but unless you're more invested in my life than I thought, and you laboriously send a copy of these emails to every single person at my school, I think I can handle any fallout from our correspondence.

Club activities are important, but basketball hardly seems like a mental challenge. Excelling in basketball merely requires height and good ball skills, yes? I understand strategy fine, and I can't see much of it going on whenever I am fortunate enough to glimpse into the magical world of sweat and baskets.

You are wasting your time by emailing me, so let's not argue to pros and cons of typing an email out. Also, I don't waste my time, I use it so efficiently that I have small gaps where I have free time.

Why do I always end up having to reply to your barbed comments? It's exhausting to see you clearly trying so hard, and yet missing the mark consistently. Might I suggest archery lessons to improve your aim?

(That was a joke, in case you missed it. You seem the type.)

It's not an attempt to invalidate your responses- it's my incomprehension of how a lesser mind functions and makes decisions. Liking a colour because it's 'the colour of success' is the most egotistical thing you've said yet. Assessing your strengths and deciding you are an 'Emperor' in comparison to the rest of the chaff is certainly not modesty- it's conceit and pride. I may begin to scrapbook your plethora of such phrases to use in court when your narcissism leads you to some kind of white collar crime and you fail to see your mistakes because of said ego.

"Why sir, the egotism and delusion started at a very young age…"

I have a wonderful grip of esoteric concepts, for your information. Also, I don't speak in hyperboles- the point of this pen pal system (I tell you for the millionth time) is to be honest, not exaggerate.

I don't enjoy putting myself in situations where I'm surrounded by morons, it's simply the way the school system functions. And I did say I would be writing to you to vent, so I'm baffled at your surprise- do you need to reread the emails so you can keep up?

My 'friends' were selected for their valuableness, I'm not going to abandon my hard work because they are fools, I knew that when I selected them. They help keep me popular with groups I would otherwise not have much traction with, so I deal with them, even though I dislike them.

Tōō's team are monkeys- I'm glad we agree on something.



P.S. Try me. Basketball can't be that difficult to understand. My school does exceedingly well in it and I have had the misfortune of meeting the team; they are idiots.

P.P.S. Don't you sleep? Why are you answering emails at 6 in the morning?


I am sooooooooooooooooo sorry this took months- exams had me strung up like Jesus, and then I had no faith in this chapter in terms of characterisation of cannon characters and Kita. And then I was like- aw hell, I've left these gorgeous people hanging, better put something up and hope it's not too gross and bad.

Any mistakes or things that you think are wrong? HIT ME WITH IT! Criticism (constructive preferably) is good stuff.

As always, love and hugs to the fantabulous people who reviewed, favourtied, and/or followed- ya'll are hot stuff. The reviewers: Cooliceprincess, Ninja99, constellatedstars, and Guest- you guys deserve a Hogwarts letter.

Guest, because I can't reply to your review directly (oh noes) lemme say here: I'm thrilled you like it! Pacing is always hit-and-miss for me so kudos to you for being so lovely! Hope the next chapter was okay, same for this one! Many thank yous for your review~

Well, review if you want... um... I don't know... sneak peak of next chapter? Up to you :D Literally- put 'good' and I'll send you the goods.

Also, I'm a shameless review whore- feed me the praise/words-of-fire-and-hatred and I'll have motivation to write~~~