Zach sat on the garage floor, surrounded by tools, instructions his mother had written up for him, and an ever growing collection of spare parts that had been an engine not long before. Tara had decided to keep him company in the garage, pretending to play with a yo-yo, while she actually quietly observed the spectacle of her brother getting lost in an ever growing sense of despair.

Tapping a small spanner on the floor, Zach tried to remember which of the twelve parts he currently was working with went where, then randomly grabbed two he thought should fit together.

However, before he could cause a disaster, the garage door opened and his father barged in, waving a VHS box in the air.

“Zach, what is this?”

“A video?” was the answer as Zach put his tools down, “Why?”

Mister Brooks let out an annoyed sigh, “A video that should have been returned over a week ago, young man. Just so you know, I’m not paying the late fees for you…”

Zach, who was glad to have an excuse to step away from his DIY project, stood up and reached for the video.

“I’ll go right away.”

“No you won’t. Your mother is watching it, so you can bring it back when she’s done. Speaking of which, she wants to know what you want on your pizza. Tara, you too…”

“I want…” Zach started, but his father didn’t let him finish.

“I’m not your errand boy,” he said, returning to the house, “Go tell her yourself.”

When the two siblings were alone again, Tara saw her chance to sneak up on her brother and whisper in his ear.

“Someone’s in trouble,” she sang.

“Your fault,” he snapped back, “You should have picked it up.”

“You shouldn’t have brought it,” Tara retorted simply, then tossed her yo-yo to her chair.

Zach followed it with his eyes, remembering Yuki’s suggestion about the special weapon. He still needed to choose his special weapon.

He found his mother in the living room, drinking a glass of wine, bottle in reach, and watching a movie where so many of the men had visible makeup that he briefly wondered if he was watching a new Culture Club video.

He was dispelled of this notion when the dialogue started up again, which took him longer to understand than expected.

He took the menu and sat down, half watching the movie, which was about one man offering another, the king going by the throne and crown, a treasure. The reason for the gift escaped Zach.

“What treasure, uncle?” the king demanded.

Another man rushed to open the chest and replied, aghast, “Tennis balls, my liege!”

Zach glanced up from the menu, wondering how the white balls even remotely resembled tennis balls, then suddenly… It clicked.

“Balls,” he said to himself.

“What’s that, honey?”

“Meat balls, mom,” Zach said, neatly flicking the menu back to Tara who entered the room, “Just meat balls and cheese.”

“Mhm,” Mrs Brooks said, frowning as she saw her son race back to the garage. She smiled when the sound of tools started up again.

That evening, Zach found himself apprehensively approaching Yuki, overdue tape in hand.

“You look nervous,” she said, looking up from her magazine, “I hope you are not here to ask me out.”

Zach didn’t reply to the playful teasing. He quietly continued towards the counter. He’d rather have seen Mister O’Donnell and gotten a lecture about returning the things on time than show his mistake to Yuki.

She put her elbows on the counter, folded her hands in a bridge and leaned her chin on them, “What can I do for you, Zach?”

“I forgot to return this,” he mumbled, putting the video on the counter.

“Oh,” she giggled, “That is all?”

“That’s all.”

“Even monkeys fall from trees,” she muttered, getting a pen and checking when the video should have been returned.

“Oh dear,” she said in mock horror, “That is a fine of… Two hundred and fifty dollars. That will cost you your membership.”

Zach quickly did the math, replying in very real horror, “That’s wrong… It’s only…”

“I am joking,” she said. She made a few notes in a rapid shorthand, then smiled, “No fine. Nobody has been wanting this, so I will pretend it is my mistake.”

“You’re the best, Yuki,” Zach sighed in relief.

“I know,” she winked, “How is your bike coming along?”

“It’s…” Zach said, thinking of the pile of metal in his garage, “… It’s coming.”

“Good. And it is also good you are here.”

“Why?”

Yuki pointed with her pen to one of the customers, “That is Chelsea Bichler, right?”

Zach looked over his shoulder, “That’s her, yeah. Why?”

“Sei-fu-ku…” Yuki said in a soft sing song.

“What?”

“Uniform,” she repeated in English.

“You want me to go up to her and…?”

“Yes.”

“She’s with her mom.”

“Then get her alone. Be a man, Zachy.”

Zach made a face, looked from Chelsea, who had noticed they were talking about her, back to Yuki and finally back to Chelsea.

The girl pointed to herself, raising her brows in question as she did.

Zach nodded in response, pointing her to the, as usual abandoned, documentary aisle.

“Oh,” Yuki said as he started his way towards Chelsea, “This might be useful…”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

She gave him her magazine. He looked to find what was a picture, he assumed, of the second Sukeban Deka season. At least, it had three girls that wore the uniform Chelsea would have to alter…

“Thanks, Yuki,” he muttered.

“I’m not going on whatever date with you,” Chelsea said, cutting Zach off before he could open his mouth, “I can do better.”

Zach, who’s never had much interest in the bossy Chelsea, simply replied with, “Thanks, Bichler.”

He dropped his voice a little, “I’m here about something else, but I need you to promise to keep it quiet.”

Chelsea’s curiosity got the better of her. She folded her arms and waited patiently.

“Promise first.”

Chelsea gave him a crooked smiled, cocking her head just slightly, “Something weird?”

“Sort of…” he started, bringing up the magazine, “Do you see this uniform?”

“Cute,” was Chelsea’s insincere comment, “For your sister? I thought she was more into…”

Zach scratched his head, nervously fidgeted, then finally answered so fast that it all became one word, “itsforme.”

The girl’s green eyes widened, then her mouth followed and she let out a delighted gasp, “Oh dear, Zach. You are one of those?”

Zach groaned.

“It’s okay. I make dresses for my uncle too… And I’ll keep my mouth shut, but just like him, it’s going to cost you…”

“Look, it’s not what you think. Yuki…”

“Who?”

Zach jabbed a thumb at the girl behind the counter who was giggling behind her hands and clearly disappointed she couldn’t hear the conversation.

“Oh, the new Chinese girl?”

“Japanese,” Zach corrected.

Chelsea’s eyes widened again and she dropped the video she was holding in excitement, “If she’s Japanese, do you think she can get me a Miki doll?”

“A what? Aren’t you too old for dolls?”

“Aren’t you too male to wear a dress?” Chelsea said innocently, “It’s a collector’s item. Foreign Barbie.”

“A...ha,” he said, “I’ll see what we can do.”

“So what do you want from me?”

“All you need is to alter her,” he gestured to Yuki again, “uniform so it fits me.”

Chelsea glanced at Yuki, then at Zach and shook her head, “That’ll never work. I’ll make it from scratch.

“I need it by next week.”

“Easy,” she insisted, “Easier than altering her stuff for your lumpy body anyway.”

“… Thanks, Chel…”

“You’re welcome. Can I borrow this as a reference?”

“Sure,” Zach said, not wanting to displease a classmate that thought he was into cross dressing, “Oh and one more thing…”

“Hm?”

“Can you drop it by here? I don’t want my parents to know…”

“Sure, Zach. I’ll make you the cutest princess.”

“Thanks, Chel…” he sighed, then shuffled his feet back to the counter.

“That was faster than I expected,” Yuki said.

“I need a Miki doll,” Zach replied, ignoring her comment.

“Oh dear,” Yuki laughed, “Your first taste of wearing a dress and you already want a doll. Are you sure you do not want to be called Zachy?”

“It’s for Chelsea. She collects dolls. … Speaking of, she has your magazine and will bring the uniform to you here.”

“Great,” Yuki beamed, “Then if you can get your bike fixed, you’re ready to save your sister from a scary movie.”

“It sounds silly if you put it like that.”

“It is silly, Zach, but it is also the most fun I have had since I got here, so I will be helping you.”

“Mhm. I’m going home, Yuki…”

“Do not be a sourpuss!” Yuki called after him.

Zach looked over his shoulder as he went through the door, saw both Yuki and Chelsea wiggle their fingers at him and he left the video store, grumpily walking home.

He found his mother in the garage, dressed in overalls, working on his motorcycle.

“Mom?”

She offered him a placating smile and put down the wrench she had been working with, “Sorry, Zach. Just reminded me of old times…”

“That’s fine, mom…” Zach sighed.

“Big fine?” she asked.

Zach shrugged, “Not as bad as expected. “

“Then come here and help me with this instead of being a grouch…”

“Sure, mom. You probably know better what you’re doing…”

“I definitely know more than you,” she confirmed, “I had to take a few things apart again or you were never going to start it.”

“...ah.”

“I drew instructions for you, didn’t I?”

“You did, mom.”

“Then follow them next time. Okay, now watch… This, goes here and…”

It was around one at night when Zach and his mother had managed to put the engine back together and more importantly, in the motorcycle.

“Still needs a little work,” she yawned, “But that’ll be simple enough. I’ll write it out for you in the morning.”

Zach nodded, echoing his mother’s yawn, “I think I want to get some sleep first though.”

“Same, honey. Your dad’s probably wondering what’s keeping me.”

“I would be,” Mister Brooks said from the door to the scullery, “If you two weren’t making enough noise to wake the dead. Good thing the Banks family is on vacation or we’d find the cops at the door.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Mrs Brooks laughed, “Coming, dear. Don’t stay up too late, Zach.”

“Just gonna have a shower and go to bed, mom.”

“Attaboy…” she yawned, left him an oily kiss on the cheek and followed her husband into the house.

“You better shower too, Cherry Pie,” was the last Zach heard mister Brooks say.

He stared at the bright green motorcycle and for fifteen minutes or so he imagined himself rolling down the highway. A girl’s arms around his waist and cruising with her to the other side of the states, which was suddenly cut off when he heard a cat scream outside.

He yawned and headed to the shower, quietly considering that maybe with the bike he’d be cool enough to be invited to Raymondson’s parties next semester…