"Tatsuki-chan, do you want my breasts?"
Orihime, the master of inappropriately appropriate timing, had picked exactly the right moment to ask that question -- Tatsuki immediately choked on her milk, her eyes going wide with shock.
"Huh?" she asked. Rational sentences like: "What the hell?" and "How could you tell?" refused to form in her head.
Orihime sulked and rested her hand on her chin.
"I'm tired of my breasts," she said sulkily. "They make it difficult to run, pick up boxes, lean across desks...they even make it hard to sew! I have to hold my arms at a funny angle so I can see what I'm working on. I want breasts like Tatsuki-chan's. They're servicable!"
Tatsuki had to fight back the urge to cross her arms to cover aforementioned breasts.
"Umm....no, Orihime," she said. "I kinda need them for karate." Tatsuki couldn't imagine trying to become a karate champion with breasts the size of Orihime's -- if you kicked just a little too high, you'd end up hitting yourself in the place it hurt worst! Although you could probably K.O. someone with them...
Orihime sulked at Tatsuki's answer.
"Not even just a little?" she asked. "We could split my boob size! And then we'd have matching boob sizes and we could share bras!" Her eyes lit up at this idea, and, despite her embarrassment, Tatsuki had to chuckle.
"Sorry, Orihime," she said, patting the girl on the head. "But it's just not possible."
Orihime sighed with disappointment.
"Oh well," she said. "I guess it's okay. I think Tatsuki-chan's breasts are beautiful just the way they are!"
Tatsuki, choking and gagging, decided she would never drink milk again.