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[Saitama Arai]

It was quite a feat for Arai to carry everything. And it all had to fit on the back of his bicycle. The rug, the stuff he had to sell, and to make matters worse his turban kept falling off his head. What had he gotten himself into?

This week was cultural week for Arai's Grocery. As a part of it Arai's uncle set up the store to match, and put out little trinkets and posters. And he did this unbeknownst to Arai, so it was quite a surprise to walk into such a change.

Upon opening the door the bell uptop rung for a second sounding that someone had entered, and Arai just stood there a blinked a couple of times with a half smile plastered on his face. Just yesterday the store looked liked it normally did, but today it looked like a completely different place. Arai had to step outside again for a bit to take it all in. But once he went back inside it was the still the same. With the same surprised look on his face, Arai couldn't help but gander at everything around him. It was like being in an actual indian palace, complete with what looked like gold trimmings, and was there a real camel in the corner of the store? What did his uncle do? The said person suddenly jumped out of nowhere and placed his arm playfully around Arai's neck. In a quick minute he explained everything, but even then it still confused him. That was when he shoved the indian garb and all the wares right into Arai's hands and shooed him outside of the store. Was he really expected to sell this somewhere?

Being the nice guy Arai was, he couldn't refuse his uncle's offer. So he decided to look at the bright side and smile about it instead. Although wearing a fake mustache wasn't all too comfortable either....but he had no choice, he had to dress the part. Also in all of the stuff he was handed was a map of areas he was expected to sell the stuff at. One area in particular was noted, with a large dark red circle it was marked, and there were a bunch of money signs drawn around it also. Arai scratched his head and raised an eyebrow, well obviously his uncle really wanted him to go there. And if he could remember correctly, that might have been where the prestigious Ouran high school was located. It was where Haruhi went, but would Arai be allowed to sell his stuff there? He just shrugged, maybe he would be able to see her. It had been a while.

Arai continued cycling and humming a tune to himself. After about twenty minutes he finally arrived in front of the grand school. For some reason there were no students around, but this didn't bother him. Somebody would show up soon enough. Arai used his foot and knocked the kickstand down so that it held his bike in place. On the back was the large pile of stuff his uncle had given him, it was tied up pretty messily with a rope and wrapped in a large blanket like carpet. Now how could he untie this....Arai placed his hands on his waist and stared at the massive pile before him. Then he started to notice something odd about it, it was trembling. He moved his face in closer to see if he could spot, or even feel, what was going on inside of it, and then it suddenly jumped up into the air. Arai jumped back in shock and even let out a shriek, it seemed to have disappeared into the sky. But when he looked up, it was already falling down. He leaped himself backwards as to not get hit, and once it crashed onto the floor, the mass opened up into a neat little shop. The rug spread fully onto the ground, and the items he was supposed to sell were lined up with price tags on them. And in the corner a small sign stood labeled, "Arai's Grocery" along with a drawn picture of his uncle smiling. It was...odd to say the least. But at least he didn't have to waste time to do it himself. Arai shook his head and laughed a bit, as a part of cultural week at Arai's Grocery, Arai's Grocery: Indian Style was now open for business. Arai plopped himself down on the ground next to his wares, all he needed were some customers now. This was sure to be an interesting day. Maybe he could once again meet the members of the softball club Haruhi was a part of.

[Amai Emi]

Her back to a tree and her nose in a romance novel, Emi peered over the edge of the book that was now boring her. The day had been very nice, the sun out, and a soft breeze bustling in every few minutes. The grass in frount of the school was bright green, and oddly soft if you sat in it. Several trees, along with the large, old, withering oak that she was leaning against, littered the grass. The white school building was behind them by quite a bit.

"Monday mornings," Emi sighed, looking at the beautiful day. She yawned softly, closing her book and placing it on her lap. That's when she saw a boy on a bicycle. He looked quite peculiar. There was no way of telling whether he went to Ouran from he outfit, only because costumes seemed more and more accepted at this damned school. He was wearing a turban, a mustache, and an outfit to match.

The boy had put the peg of his bike down and he moved to the back of it. She couldn't see very well, being that she was a fe feet away, but she could make out something like a rug holding other objects. His hands went to his waist, as he started to studied, from the looks of it. She suddenly moved forward toward it, when she saw it moving slightly. Suddenly, the package jumped into the air, startling the boy, making im sheirk. She got to her knees subconciously, seeing the boy the boy jump back. The object, as she thought it was, fell onto the ground. It was a rug, and what looked like little objects. He looked at it, shaking his head slightly, and began to laugh. This sparked her curiousity to what this was.

She slowly rose, gripping her book at her side, when she saw the boy sit down. She quietly took a few footsteps closer, observing the boy a bit more. He held a soft smile, not seeming to notice her moving toward him. She finished the distance she had, stopping in front of the rug to look over it. She took note to the small sign with an old man's face and the words "Arai's Grocery." She crouched down to pick up one of the objects and look at it. She didn't have a clue what it was.

"I take it you aren't from around here?" She asked softly, barely looking up at him. "I mean, you don't go to Ouran, right?"

[Saitama Arai]

Arai stared out straight ahead at whatever surrounded this majestic school. In his mind he sighed, but on the outside he showed no signs of faltering. His eyes were sealed shut in a nonchalant manner, he didn't expect anyone to actually show up until he heard the sounds of someone approaching.

He opened his eyes and gazed over at whoever was now beside him. It was a girl about his own age, and from her uniform Arai could only guess that she was a student of Ouran High. She held one of the trinkets curiously in her hands and fondled with it for a second before speaking to him. Her voice was sweet, as was her appearance. She didn't look over towards Arai, but he kept his eyes on her. He smiled his trademark grin and responded, "Ah no, actually I don't." Arai had to admit, he was a tad bit embarrassed by all of this. He slowly pulled off his fake mustache as he continued talking to the caramel long-haired girl, "I go to a different school away from here, my uncle just sent me here." Arai kept his smile as he spoke, along with taking off the mustache he pulled off the turban and laid it beside him to reveal his short natural chestnut colored hair.

Arai stood himself up and starting brushing off any stray dirt he may have picked up while kneeling. "From your outfit it looks like you do go to Ouran." He bent over and grabbed one of the items he was supposed to sell. Arai held it preciously in his grip and eyed it over deeply. He looked back to the girl again with an apologetic look and tone. "I'm sorry but I'm not very knowledgeable on all this stuff I'm supposed to sell, but if you'd like something feel free to look through what I brought." Why his uncle sent him off to do something like this only he himself could answer, but for the time being Arai would just have to deal with it. He hoped he didn't look silly though, the Ouran students were quite a different crowd.