*trembling so intensely in his high-heels and undersized, made-for-women, bunny suit that even the cotton tail above the cleft of his rear is shaking in terror with him*
“And we just rerolled girls too... just to go back to bullying twinks.”
*holding the stick marked ‘3′ with red ink in her right hand*
“T-This is t-targeted harassment, isn’t it? You all j-just want to see the ‘nerdy girl’ try and f-fail to do one of your childish p-pranks, don’t you?!”
“Just give bunny-boy his wedgie before I show you targeted harassment.”
*hoping Fukawa’s response will at least mean she’ll take it easy on him, the girl already approaching as he speaks*
“P-Please, be gentle... t-this suit is tight an- eeeeppp!?”
*wrenching up on that irresistibly vulnerable bunny tail to begin the process of wedging the fabric deep into her victim’s butt, drawing her hand up higher and higher until she’s got the boy on his toes*
“She totally wanted to do it anyway.”
“There’s a coat-hook over there, bee-tee-dubs!”
*moving from the bunny tail to the legholes, already eyeing the higher-than-normal coat-hook above her head*
“W-We should get started...”
*feeling the writer’s spindly fingers dig into the space between the elastic of his bunny suit’s legholes, turn upward, and take two fistfuls of the stretchy fabric upwards, revealing most his pale, feminine rear end while also driving the rigid fabric between those cheeks harshly*
“Ouh!? Fu-Fukawa, ple-ase!?”
*pulling up on the stressed, black fabric, until she’s lifting the boy from the floor with ease, inadvertently bouncing him while she giggles at her rare moment of being on top*
“...this is fun, hehe...”
“So she laughs like that with anyone she gives a wedgie... glad it’s not just me...”
*dragged up higher, with his legs kicking pitifully for the reassurance of the floor when Fukawa finally rips him from it, drawing him closer to the twin prongs of the coat-hook while drawing the fabric around the tight-as-is crotch of the bunny suit even tighter; only groans of agony coming from his throat now*
*the strength of the serial killer she shares a body with more than enough to draw more girly squeals out of the detective, her hands still tight around the legholes of the bunny suit easily pulling him above her head-height so she can secure those rigid-snug bands around the prongs of the coat-hook*
*dropped the half-inch of give that his bunny suit has to stretch before being jounced back via the elastic going taut around the prongs that now hold him some feet off the floor; the up-and-down movement he’s left suspended in letting the fabric not meant to be so deep in him scrape against his absolute middle, kicking a truly feminine squeak out of him*
*the unmistakably female hands gripping on his naked ankles reminding him of something Miu would do to him for fun, he can only plead once more, trying to steel himself for what comes next*
“Please... get it over with...”
“I w-wonder if you’ll c-cry... boys only cry in garbage l-love novels...”
*his squeezed-shut eyes popping open as the lightweight girl, who doesn’t feel light at all at the moment, jumps with only his suspended ankles, and the tensile fibers of his bunny suit to hold her up*
“Hyeeeh!? Owwwwwaaahoow...!”
*crossing her legs where she sits in some kind of awkward cross-gender twinge of sympathy, the pain inflicted on the boy’s front more than apparent*
*letting herself land before going into another half-swing using only the boy to hold her off the floor as she can, the ‘skretch’-esque sounds of straining elastic and fabric not coming from her own underwear making her grin*
*the second pull of gravity, boosted by the nerd girl trying to drag him down as deep as possible onto the middle of his bunny suit, finally enough to crush his groin and leave tears filling up his eyes*
*letting go of her impromptu swing, but only returning to her seat without any intention of letting Shui down from the wedgie*
*having to be the one to actually help get the crying boy down, trying to gently get the bunny suit’s elongated legholes off the coat-hook without bouncing the poor boy wearing it anymore*
*voice still cracking as the pianist’s own delicate fingers pluck at the tight elastic behind his back, the pain not at all subsiding despite her reassurance*
