Disclaimer: KoinoSeason does not own Prince of Tennis. Or any of the slight parodies that might be mentioned.

AN. Originally planned to be a oneshot, but it seems it's going to be a bit longer. Bear with me again, another non-serious fanfic and this time it's JirouxHiyoshi.

Chapter 1

Pressing the on button, he waited for the game to load. Being a restless person by nature, he skipped through the opening animation and started. Slowly, as if someone were typing out the words in front of him, the preface was read by the narrator, an old man trying to make his voice deep and mysterious; it only made him sound like some guy in the streets waiting to sell you whatever he had under his jacket. The boy tapped impatiently as the screen rolled along and about a few long minutes later he was able to choose the gender of his character.

"Male."

He inputted into the data, then the professor asked for his name. By default, Player 1 was written across the blue screen in a bordered square above the keys for the rest of the alphabet. He erased the letters and started to write his own name over it.

W. A. K. A. S. H-

"Hiyoshi~ watch out!"

A very blonde upperclassman tumbled over to him and pushed him down from the force resulting in the cinnamon haired boy's collision with his own controller. He rubbed his forehead and turned around to yell, but the professor on the screen cut him off.

"Why hello there Wakash%*, let us begin the flying simulation."

The game moved onward and he blinked each time his name was mentioned. Then a snapping sound was heard as if something inside the boy broke.

"Why the hell don't they let me reconfirm my name?!"

Hiyoshi's hand trembled over the game console above the reset button. As the two watched the annoying preface again, the one with a bump on his head spoke to the one who gave him the bump.

"But they do. After the first level…"

And that was how his weekend started.

-

"Honestly! That idiot of a sempai!" Hiyoshi waved his hands in the air and joined them behind his mushroom hair as he walked to the clubroom. Ootori Choutarou who had been listening to his teammate rave on about the blonde narcoleptic sighed and smiled lightly.

"But maybe you actually like him? They say people who fight a lot are lot closer to each other then they think…"

Choutarou was cut off rudely by Hiyoshi's shout. "WHAT? No way I'm close to that…that… idiot. There must be something wrong with his brain!"

"Hahaha," the taller laughed dryly and said in a low whisper. "What brain?"

"Yeah what- wait, Ootori?" Hiyoshi's half closed eyes shot open and sweated as he saw the usually nice male say something completely off from his usual character. Choutarou didn't seem to notice.

"Shishido-saaan," Choutarou left the scene as his upperclassman he was infatuated with entered the room and the dark aura completely left him, making Hiyoshi wonder if he just imagined the taller boy to have said such a thing, but when he hugged Shishido and looked at Hiyoshi from over the other's blue cap with a look that said, you say one word and you die, he doubted it. And he also feared the white haired male more then he had in his entire life.

Jirou bounded into the clubroom more energetically then he had in the past two weeks combined. It may be because he had a large box of mousse pocky in one hand and a sweet roll in the other. He offered the members in the room his box and they took one each, but Hiyoshi declined.

"No thanks, I'm not into that," he said exasperated.

Jirou's eyes widened in shock as if he couldn't believe what he heard. Someone didn't like pocky, something so great and awesome and…just about everything you could want out of chocolate and biscuit together. Cautiously, he stated as if he heard something outrageous. "Uh okay Hiyo. I'll respect you, but I won't understand you."

"Eh, d- wh- grrr! Don't call me that!"

"Hiyo? Why can't I call you Hiyo, Hiyo? C'mon it's just a nickname Hiyo. Plus I think it's kind of cute, Hiyo," Jirou teased as he ran in floppy circles around his so called friend.

"Hiyo-chan is pretty cute huh," Taki giggled lightly from his side of the locker. Hiyoshi twitched. He was definitely going to write this in his gekokujou notebook of doom, currently 3 volumes long and 4 inches thick.

"…Hiyo-chan," Choutarou smiled and addressed him and a chill ran down Hiyoshi's spine as he backed away against his locker. He did not want to have anything to do with him. Ever.

"Alright everyone hurry the hell up!" Atobe opened the door with the snap of his finger as Kabaji almost twisted it off its hinges with his hulk like power. Although he was the last to enter, he still had the nerve to tell everyone else to hurry up, possibly so he could get them out before he got ready by himself. Hiyoshi eyed the gaudy male with resentment, although it couldn't be seen through his bowl cut bangs. Jirou looked bewildered from Hiyoshi to Atobe and also worried as he went to go cling on his lowerclassmen trying to protect him although being rudely pushed off. "We're having a practice match with Shitenhouji."

Oshitari whispered, but he already knew how crazy this school was. "Nandeyanen." Why? Why were they having a practice match with a team from sooooo far away?