Disclaimer: I don't own TeniPuri.
Something Unholy
It had been the first time he had honestly thought 'to Hell with manners!' and had royally screwed being "The Gentleman." Not only had he left without saying goodbye, but before his host was even awake. And he hadn't just left. He'd ran.
Yagyuu Hiroshi couldn't recall any morning he had ever been in quite a panic as this one. In the blue-gray light of early morning he had been almost sure the only way to find his glasses would be to hear the crunch beneath his feet, and he was only half certain that he was wearing his own shirt; as it was Rikkai Dai's standard tennis jersey, it would pass for now. He had jogged from the house, forgetting that he hadn't ever been introduced to the family members that were already half awake and on their way to the breakfast table, with every intention of catching a cab and hightailing it to his bedroom.
Now about that cab.
Yagyuu decided that aside from speeding, overcharging, asking too many personal questions, and ignoring personal hygiene, he overall disliked stereotypical cabdrivers because they apparently overslept. At six o'clock in the morning it apparently wasn't an issue of a driver finding a passenger, but of a passenger finding a driver. But at least he'd had time to think. Like about the story he would get to make up for his parents about where he had been the night before, and why his shirt looked like it had spent the night on the floor. Or about how he was going to be terribly late as it was and he hadn't set out his Sunday clothes.
By the time he had located a cab and was back on his way home, he was certain he had wasted all the time he had saved in not explaining to that family what exactly he had been doing in their house. And that would have been a long story.
Paying his fare and climbing out of the cab, Yagyuu Hiroshi saw one of the most terrifying sights he had ever come across before in his life. Leaning against the door frame of his front door, his very own front door, was an exhausted Niou Masaharu, looking more asleep than awake and more dead than alive. This morning was just not Yagyuu's morning.
"I was hoping I'd beat you," Niou breathed, attempting to grin through a yawn.
"What are you doing here? You have to leave! I have to get ready!"
Niou looked hurt.
"I wasn't that bad, was I?" Niou dropped his smile, watching Yagyuu walk towards the door. "Oh come on, you're not gonna leave me without saying goodbye twice in one day are you? And it's still morning! Where are you going?"
"To Church!"
Niou had to blink a few times at that.
"It's Sunday, Niou. I have to go to church. I'm late, I'm not dressed, and… you! How am I supposed to go to church like this?" Niou got the distinct impression that Yagyuu wasn't quite referring to his state of dress (though Yagyuu was wearing his shirt), but instead of what had happened the night before. Had Yagyuu not seemed visibly distressed Niou would have laughed. Instead Niou only smiled, and kissed his friend softly on the lips, before finally standing straight and preparing to leave.
"Well now I know why you didn't say goodbye." He looked at Yagyuu seriously. "And I'm no church go-er, but you know, you could at least pray for me while you're there."
He meandered off this time, taking the porch steps two at a time before sauntering off in the direction of home.
Yagyuu wasn't sure if he had been joking about it or if he had indeed been serious about wanting to be prayed for, but either way Yagyuu stopped wondering what he would tell his parents or about ironing his church clothes, and started thinking about just what prayer could possibly save the terrible Niou Masahru, and just how many times he would say it.