Character/Theme: Originally Tomo, but I had to change it, pedicure

Time: 34 minutes

Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis/Tenisu no Ohjisama is property of Takeshi Konomi. The Shonen Jump translation is terrible and you shouldn't support it.

It hadn't been a particularly difficult or trying practice, but Tezuka felt worn by the end. He had had an English test that morning, and his arm was bothering him again. Luckily, most of the team realized this and attempted not to bother him too much. Oishi diplomatically took over duties as club leader while Tezuka popped off to the clinic for some aspirin. Of course, this being a standard school nurse, he was stuck waiting for her to both arrive and take care of the four other students who seemed to have appeared from nowhere with her arrival.

What he found upon returning to the courts was...

Not out of the ordinary. The balls had been picked up, and the nets taken in, and there was nary a soul in sight. It seemed rather early for practice to have ended, but he was willing to deal with that by extending next practice.

Next morning practice.

What was unusual, however, was the giggling that sounded as though it were coming from the clubhouse. Despite the silly rumours that were constantly being spread, the members of the tennis team did not giggle and cavort like little girls. Yes, he had heard Fuji and Eiji titter like Georgian housewives on occasion, but those tended to be few and far between. What he heard coming from the clubhouse was not only the girlish laugh most often associated with schoolgirls, but also the raucous laughter of his more masculine teammates. He wished there was someway he could avoid the clubroom altogether, but Tezuka steeled his nerves and entered.

Whatever steeling he had done had not prepared him for this.

For one, there were not supposed to be girls in the clubroom. It was explicitly stated that this was the Boys Tennis Club, and girls had a completely separate club. And the fangirls that turned out for their practices were, under NO circumstances, to be allowed in the clubhouse. NO circumstances.

It wasn't only the presence of the female sex that surprised Tezuka. It was also what they were doing.

It was in fact difficult to tell at first, because there was a hazy curtain of steam and scent, as though the showers had been left running for a quite a long time. They seemed to have set up a mini-spa inside the once sparse and manly clubroom. Upon closer examination, it was only that dreadful loud-mouth and her pig-tailed friend who were running about, but the amount of space they seemed to cover – and all their cosmetics – more than made up for their lack of manpower. And as for his teammates – people who he had once called equals in both skill and dignity! – they were participating in this fiasco with seeming gusto.

Eiji had his hair in curlers (which, after a moments reflection, didn't seem so odd), and was chatting animatedly with Fuji, who had dividers between his fingers so as not to smear his nail polish. Taka-san was meekly sitting while Tomo scrubbed at calluses on his hands, with a bottle of clear "nail strengthener" beside them. Kaidoh, much to Tezuka's relief, was nowhere to be found. Oishi was eyeing his hair in a mirror with last month's issue of Cosmo clutched in his hand, although to Tezuka's untrained gaze, he looked much the same. Inui was sitting in the corner with a mud mask and cucumbers over his eyes, with his notebook lying forgotten beside him.

It is a testament to the power of feminine wiles that nobody tried to steal it while he laid unaware.

The crowning glory of this spectacle was in the centre of the room, where Ryoma sat, with Sakuno kneeling in front of him, holding one of his feet in her hands while the other soaked. She had a file in one hand and was busily shaping his nails while Ryoma looked at colours of polish. Momo was behind him with a hair pick, teasing his hair until it looked meticulously scruffy. As Tezuka tried to absorb this spectacle, Eiji bounced over and grabbed his hand. Fuji sidled up more faintly.

"Nya, Tezuka-buchou, you need to file your nails more often! They're practically claws, nya! And either Seigaku colours or a pastel-ish shade would look really nice on them!"

Fuji tittered. "Nn, you have a wonderful eye for colour, Eiji. What about some subtle red highlights?" He ruffled Tezuka's hair. Tezuka reflexively flinched.

"Hoi, that would look splendid!"

Tezuka shut his eyes and rubbed his temples. It was time for his ultimate Buchou power. "Practice tomorrow starts at 6, rain or shine, and if you're late, you'll run 50 laps at lunch time!"

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