A/N: hi! This is me! And this is my first PoT fic. Actually, it is my second, but my first one was to horribly awful to be displayed to the general public, so it will be left to rot in my computer until I get around to fixing it. This is mainly the combination of listening to "Wonderful Days" too many times and my talent with run-on sentences and extremely cheesy descriptive words rolled into a burrito we call a story. Hopefully this one won't have to rot… Because rotten burritos probably don't smell all that peachy.
Disclaimer: I don't own PoT. For if I did, it would comprise of a bunch of squiggles, stick figures, no plot and Sengoku would be on the team instead of Inui.
Oo0oO
Sengoku stared at his TV screen with the unhealthy look of someone who has played far too many videogames. While the above statement was true, it didn't stop the orange haired, vice-captain, too-lucky-for-his-own-good, tennis player from stopping his gaming experience. He continued to press the "y" button on his controller in an almost zombie like manner a livid sort of fury glinting in his dilated pupils. It was a surprise to him when his older sister tapped him on his overly tense shoulder and handed him the family's wireless telephone. He sighed and stopped his rapid "Y" pressing and poked the start button to pause the game. He took the phone and his sister walked back out the door.
"Hello?" Sengoku said into the mouth piece of the phone.
"This is Kirihara Akaya. Is this Sengoku Kiyosumi?" came the question blasting out of the earpiece.
Sengoku nodded, then he remembered that Kirihara couldn't see him. "Yes, this is me."
Kirihara sighed. "Good. You don't know how many problems I had with your sister. She was so sure that I had called for her. Anyway, I have news."
Sengoku looked back over at his TV screen with a look of extreme longing; a mournful puppy dog look was starting to sprout.
"Look, Kirihara-kun, do you think you could speed this up?"
"Why?"
"Because: I am in the middle of a very important hit, in a very important match, in a very important game, and there are only nineteen seconds left on the clock."
There was silence on the other end of the line. A ray of hope flared up at the thought that maybe, just maybe, Kirihara had done one nice thing in his life and had hung up. His hopes were crushed when an exasperated sort of grunt came out of the other line.
"So you're saying that you want me to hurry up so you can get back to some video game?" Kirihara's tone was not of one who was amused.
"That… sounds about right, yup!" Sengoku was just about to go on describing the tremendous awesomeness of the game that he was playing when was rudely cut off by Kirihara.
"ARRG! Why did Atobe-san even talk me into doing this job! Is His Excellence too high and mighty to do anything?!" It seemed to Sengoku that Kirihara was talking to himself more than to Sengoku. So Sengoku just frowned an annoyed frown, crinkled eybrows, sagging lips all; he just lisetned with patience.
"ARRG! And I thought talking to Ibu-kun was bad! He just muttered the whole time about how he would go even though he didn't want to! Mutter mutter mutter mutter mutter mutter MUTTER! Mutter my butt! And Sanada-senpai! ARRG! It's like talking to a brick wall. 'Can you meet me at the ice cream shop? Atobe-san was wondering.' Silence. 'Can you?' Silence. 'I'll take that as a yes.' Silence. ARRG!"
Sengoku padded over to his couch and sat down. He propped the phone up against the potted plant on the side table. At the volume Kirihara was talking, he could hear him across the room. He was just about to press the start button to continue his game when he heard his name.
"Sengoku-senpai?" Sengoku picked up the phone and cradled it between his elbow and his cheek. He was still trying to get at least a little done on his game, but Kirihara kept interupting.
"I am going to make this as painless as possible for me." Kirihara went on. "Don't talk until I am done. Got it?"
There was silence. Kirihara stomped on the ground. All of his senpais were so aggravating.
"Sengoku-senpai? You still there?"
"You told me not to talk until you were done. So I didn't."
Kirihara nearly screamed. He took a breath. "Okay." He took another breath. "I am going to say this all in one breath so I can get this over with. Atobe-san wanted me to call you to tell you that you need to 'meet him and some other people at the icecream shop downtown at 3:00, please.' Please be there or Atobe with kill me, and I would rather be alive so I can kill you all personally. "
There was a "Thck" sound in Sengoku's ear and then the dail tone buzzed. He sighed and clicked the off button on the phone. He looked up at the analog clock on the far wall. It was 2:45. It would take him 15 minutes to walk down to the shop.
"'Coulda called me earlier." He said under his breath.
It was fifteen minutes later and Sengoku was still not at the shop. Kirihara, Kamio, Ibu, Sanada, Atobe and Oshitari were all crowded around a booth with a bald man in a black pinstriped suit. Kirihara looked down at his watch and tapped the face to see that it was still working. Kamio and Ibu were talking across the table and Oshitari was cleaning his glasses.
Kirihara breathed a sigh of relief as the door to the shop was flung open and in walked Sengoku. He waved good-bye to some girls at the door, and then walked over to the booth. It was apparent where they were, for the moment Sengoku entered the door, Kamio stood up and started waving his arm in an all too obvious manner.
"Sorry I am late!" chorused Sengoku as he sat down. The moment he sat, the middle aged man in the suit stood up.
"Okay everyone! What do you want? You can have anything." His deep masculine voice was like an angel from heaven. He was the deliverer of glad tidings from the god of ice cream. Although the boys pretended to be tough, tough tennis players, not one of them could ever say no to ice cream. Except one.
The boys rattled off their orders. Atobe, being who he was, of course, went first.
"One scoop of cherry chocolate and one of mousse royale with whipped cream, slivered almonds, crushed pineapple and gummy bears."
"Vanilla ice cream with peanut butter!" came Kamio's order.
"Banana spilt!" was heard from Sengoku across the table.
"Chocolate ice cream with chocolate chips and fudge sauce." was Ibu's very nearly unheard request as he continued to mutter to himself.
"Dark chocolate with caramel!" sounded the very cocky Kirihara.
"Strawberry ice cream, with sprinkles, on a cone." Oshitari stated, placing his glasses back on his nose.
"Water." Sanada's deep monotone voice stated. Everyone looked at him.
"Water?" Sengoku asked, his semi-nasally voice resonating with confusion.
"So?" Sanada asked, his face retaining the same stone like expression it always wore. His facial expressions rivaled Tezuka's. Tezuka's only won for the single fact that Tezuka only had a single facial expression. Sanada had the zip-roaring amount of two facial expressions. Hey, he could get mad.
"Why did you get water?" asked the clearly concerned Sengoku.
"I like water." (Facial expression number two not shown here.)
"I know, but you can have ice cream." Sengoku looked at him. No one in his right mind would turn down ice cream.
"I don't like ice cream."
Sengoku was now very sure that the person sitting to the side of him was not a human, but some sort of alien sent down to destroy his youthful existence.
"You don't like ice cream?" Sengoku was stunned.
To the tennis players' surprise, their ice cream was not served to them at their booth, but rather at their own individual tables. The tables were those two-seater tables that usually were up against the windows. They were arranged in a semi circle around a projector and a rolling whiteboard. Customers were licking their ice cream and staring at the set-up in confusion. Such customers were ushered out of the ice cream shop the moment the last ice cream (Sengoku's banana spilt) was placed on the whiteboard facing tables. The shop was cleared in no time.
Each lad sat behind their respective ice cream, or water, in Sanada's case. As they did so, the blinds were lowered and the lights turned off. The glow from around the blinds and a window that was open in a back room were the only sources of light. They dung in, or gulped up (Sanada.) Atobe took out a fork and knife and began slicing his into sections making sure that there was ample pineapple, almonds, and whipped cream on each slice. The others paid no head to such business of organization of ice cream and slurped their way through their ice cream, enjoying every taste. Sanada joined in as well. Because you know, there's nothing like the refreshing taste of tap water. It comes in many flavors including metal and mud, free, every time you turn on the sink.
Perhaps it was because of his choice of snack that he was the first to notice all of the blank sheets of paper that were laid haphazardly on the desks. The others soon followed.
"Hey look! There's a bunch of papers on our tables!" Sengoku cried out, deciding to be Capitan Obvious for the day. Everyone nodded their heads in a "Yes, we know. Unlike you, some of us actually have a brain." sort of way. Ibu just muttered about how the chocolate sauce had dripped on his jeans.
The man in the suit cleared his throat to get their attention. It took a few seconds for Kirihara to realize the reason Oshitari wasn't still fighting over who's napkin was whose. He quieted down just after grabbing the napkin from under Oshitari's elbow. It was only a sliver of the napkin, but at least the older boy didn't have all of it.
The man in the fancy getup (that will now be known here by as Suit-sama) began talking.
"A colleague of mine recently sent me the following video. She found it on the web and was so impressed by it that she sent it to me right away. Upon receiving it I could see why she was impressed." On and one went the long winded explanation of how he had got a clip of something they hadn't seen. Suit-sama was becoming extremely distracted from his professional speech. Half of the boys seemed not to be listening.
If it had been Inui, Renji or Mikuki there, he would have had a very attentitive audience. There would have been much scribbling on the spare paper; notes that didn't seem apparent to anyone else but these people always seemed to find. He would have been immersed in bliss, singing praises to the future business men of their time, who would have been busy scratching away notes longer than the speech itself.
But no. Poor Suit-sama was stuck with Kamio, Ibu, Kirihara, Sengoku, and Atobe. Oshitari and Sanada were fine. They were respectful to their elder and listened while he was talking.
Atobe appeared to be listening. He was sitting up very straight in his chair, legs and arms crossed--a sort of majestic air about him. You could almost imagine the bodyguards about his shoulders and a crown on his head. It was apparent to any one who knew Atobe that he was not listening.
Kirihara was at least trying, but was failing. He had his head on his bicep, with his elbow on the table. In his hand was his spoon. Using said spoon he would scoop up some caramel and lazily drizzle over the rest of his dark chocolate ice cream. He didn't seem to notice what he was doing; his eyes held the expression of Krispy Kreme special glazed doughnuts.
Sengoku was making no effort to pay attention to the speaker whatsoever. He had been pleased to discover a pencil buried under the mountain of blank paper and had proceeded to make good use of it, drawing picture of boxing, bunnies, bunnies boxing, cakes, pinecones, pinecone cakes, and a very squat self portrait of himself boxing bunnies while eating pinecone flavored cake.
Ibu and Kamio were playing a sort of silent rock-paper-scissors, although it appeared that one or both of them had a taser. If one of them would lose, say rock to paper, the loser would jump about a foot in the air. Now, it could have been just the thought that they had lost, and involuntary flinch that went with it that caused the person to jump, but it could have also not been. It was all in the eyes of the beholder.
Suit-sama decided to cut to the chase and show the clip. He cleared his throat to get the wayward children's attention. They all jumped and there was a moan of protest following a loud snapping sound; Sengoku's pencil lead had broken, causing a huge line to protrude from a piece of hair in his drawing of him roasting the boxing bunnies in a super powerful Sengoku anime move.
The movie began.
"Tezuka! Sorry for making you wait. Be awed by my beautiful voice." Came Atobe's voice from the speakers connected to the computer. Atobe's head instantly perked up when he heard his own voice. There was a snap and the lights rose. The regulars watched with fascination as the whiteboard began showing the time that they had sung at Tezuka's welcome back party. They all remembered it well.
Upon hearing the first line of the song, Sengoku snorted, spewing generous amounts of banana split around the room. This action earned him a very disgruntled look from Atobe, who was both very displeased that a chunk of banana had hit him in the cheek and at the fact that Sengoku had chosen to snort during his, Atobe's, singing part/solo. He was very put out.
Aside from the incident with the banana, Atobe looked rather pleased. He gazed around the room, challenging anyone to challenge his excellence. Not that anyone did, although quiet a few wanted to.
Kirihara looked bemused. It seemed that he had come out of his Krispy Kreme coma and the first thing he had seen was himself singing. It was the last thing he was expecting.
Sanada was displaying facial expression number one, with signs of going onto facial expression .5. Inui did not count facial expression .5 as an expression, seeing as how it was only half an expression.
Oshitari just hummed along and fidgeted with his glasses. There was still a humongous ugly blur on his glasses that was causing him vision problems.
Kamio looked embarrassed, his face turning the color of his hair. Ibu just muttered under his breath about the quality of the film and how the stain from the chocolate might not come out.
And Ibu's mutterings were right. He had reached the correct conclusion that it was recorded with a cell phone. And the holder of that cell phone had the unusual need to bounce and sway along with the music. The recording bobbed back and forth, up and down. If it wasn't for the fact that the youngsters were used to doing a truckload of jumping jacks at each practice, they would have been positively ill.
The clip ended, much to the chagrin of the teens. They had enjoyed watching themselves make a fool out of themselves. Ah, the simplicity of youth.
Suit-sama went about his business turning off his computer and covering the lens of the projector with the cap. Sengoku had managed to snag Atobe's pencil and was now attempting to erase the damage done by his graphite snapping. His own pencil's eraser was completely gone due to use.
"By the way," Suit-sama said, after all his turning off and putting on. "The credit for that clip goes to AcrobaticsREijiPeji. Without this recording, we never would have found your talent."
He concluded the end of that little segment of his speech by asking that any paper that they did not use or did not want to keep be passed up to him for disposal. The pile that was finally handed to him was rather lumpy due to the excess amount of banana donated via Sengoku's snorting fest
"To get to the point," said a rather disgusted looking Suit-sama after returning from throwing away the lumpy package of paper, "is that you have a great amount of talent. I was wondering if you would like to sign a contract with me. A deal. I work for a music recording company and we would really like it if you would sign a contract with us."
Sanada stared at the man in the pinstripes. Suit-sama quivered in his dress shoes. "Don't you think," he began, "that if you are asking us to sign a binding contract with a company, our parents should be here?"
After Sanada graced them with asking an extremely relevant and important question (the only kind of question Sanada ever asked) the others nodded. Why hadn't it occurred to them?
Suit-sama shook his head, a nervous expression stealing across his face. Inui would have written down this tidbit of information down right away, but no one there noticed.
"No! No! Well, yes but I wanted to see if you were interested. Wouldn't want to waste your parents precious time now would we?" Suit-sama rubbed his hands together nervously; his bald head glistened with sweat.
"So what do you think? You are all really talented. Really it would be a waste. I haven't seen this much talent in High Schoolers in a long time."
Sengoku was in midslurp when he stopped drinking the soupy ice cream and looked up at the bald man in front of him.
"But Suit-sama," he said, licking off a milk mustache. "We're not High Schoolers. We're junior high students."
Oo0oO
So ends my story! Yay! Any way, I just want to clear one thing up: I don't hate Sengoku!! I seemed to have made him seem extremely dumb in this story… oh well, it was fun! oP
Oh, by the way! Did you catch who the person who recorded the clip was? It was Eiji! Kikumaru!
Reviews are greatly appreciated. Please do so. Follow the signs, then take a left and it will get you to where you need to go. Drive safely personages.