A/N: When you read this, you will go like: "Are you insane? Starting ANOTHER story?" Yes, I am indeed. You might recognize most of the characters, but they are completely different. This was previously titled Broken Genius, but apart from the characters' names, this has no connection at all to Broken Genius. The plot is completely different, and don't even try to put two to two together and think you've got anything. I bet you fifty thousand cents I will shock your pants off. This is by far the most hilarious story I have ever written.

"One thousand and fifty-two." Atobe announced triumphantly. The regulars grumbled, seeing where this was going to go. He ran a hand through his hair sexily. "The number of members in the Atobe Keigo Club this year. Ore-sama's charm is undeniable, ahn, Yuushi?"

"Oh please, Keigo." Oshitari raised an eyebrow. "It's seven in the morning. Take your boisterous boasting elsewhere, will you? No one needs to hear this so early in the morning."

Any normal person would be ashamed, at the mercy of Oshitari Yuushi's sharp tongue, or flustered, in the very least. Atobe was someone from another world.

Atobe smirked his signature smirk, sending groans from the regulars and screams from the fangirls across the tennis courts once again. "Oshitari, wither under ore-sama's glorious shine! Buckle the way thy knees would in ore-sama's presence! Ore-sama shall not be discouraged by your remarks of jealousy, commoners. For ore-sama is absolute!"

Shishido rolled his eyes, adjusting his cap. "You 'buckle the way our knees would', Atobe? Those remarks were meant to be insulting instead of discouraging, by the way, Your Highness."

Mukahi giggled, "Good one, Ryou!"

Atobe snapped his fingers. "It's the start of the new academic year! No nonsense from any of you rabbles!"

"Come to think of it, did you check which class you're assigned in this year, Atobe?" Oshitari asked casually.

"Ha? Does ore-sama look like the sort of person who would bother to check something as trivial as that?" Atobe announced as he flipped his hair. Fangirls wailed in delight. With a magnificent jab of his thumb, he pointed at one of the many fangirls in the spectators stand. "Oi! You! What class is ore-sama in, girl?"

The girl went completely red, and stuttered, "A-Atobe-sama, you're in 3-A, the same as I am!"

Satisfied, Atobe turned to face Oshitari, expression victorious. Oshitari rolled his eyes.

"What a shameless flirt."

Within the humungous premises of Hyotei Gakuen, there is one place that is an extremely popular confession site. It is the patch of grass behind the tennis club locker room, with a tall oak tree providing shade to whoever is being confessed to.

Atobe is proud to admit that he is the most frequent visitor to that particular spot, invited by numerous fangirls (and the occasional fanboy, but that's another story) to receive declarations of undying love to him, of which he all rejected without question. He was a huge advocate of the religion 'the king belongs to everyone'. Why would he settle down with one girl, when he had millions following him around already?

Today he was invited by another girl to that spot, undoubtedly to reject yet another confession of romantic feelings.

The girl, who was, coincidentally, the same girl Atobe had pointed out from the crowd this morning. She shuffled her feet nervously, and looked down blushing. "A-Atobe-sama, you may not know me, but I have been watching you since our freshman year. I have admired you for a long time, Atobe-sama." She tracked her fingers through her hair, desperately trying to smooth it down. Atobe could see that she was wearing makeup. "And today, I-I would like to tell you that...I have been your fan for a long time now! I like you really much, Atobe-sama! Please go out with me!"

Atobe looked at the girl with a bit of distaste. He had received confessions enough to last a lifetime, not to brag. This one was sort of boring, in its own aspect.

"I'm sorry, but ore-sama is not interested. Why would you try to acquire ore-sama, when ore-sama has already stated that the king should belong to everyone? Ore-sama is everyone's! There shall be none who will selfishly snatch away the great ore-sama!" And he whirled around and left. It was the same practice every day.

Really, there weren't a lot of them that had managed to impress him at all. Ah, Atobe suddenly recalled, but there was one girl that nearly threw him off his feet last year.

He strolled back towards the school building, taking the shorter route back, which involved venturing into the small forest that separated the main building and the recreational areas. The forest always appeased his mind, and freshened up his mood. There was a narrow man-made path that lead him towards the exit.

There was a shadow among the tall trees and bushes, cleverly camouflaged in the shades. Atobe squinted, but couldn't make out the figure. He decided that it wouldn't be the best decision to approach the thing. Without his line of bodyguards next to him, Atobe did not feel confident in his chances of winning a battle against some sort of violent wild animal on his own. And there had been rumors floating around lately that there were bears lurking around in the forest too...

Hastening his footsteps, he drew out his phone and dialed '119', and kept his finger just above the call button. Better safe than sorry. He spotted the light at the end of the forest, and hurried. Just as he was about to reach it, the shadow sprang into action, flying towards Atobe.

He backtracked and tried to run back the way he had come, back to the tennis courts. Ah, ore-sama knew the 'light at the end of the tunnel' was a bad omen... he thought wryly as he sprinted. Oh, but the figure was fast. With a yell, the shadow pounced on Atobe.

Atobe squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face with his hands. The thing straddled his hips with its legs, its fur tickling his neck. It brought his mouth next to his ear (Did bears have a thing for human ears?), and breathed into it.

"A-to-be-sa-ma. I love you." Atobe's eyes flew open, and groaned at what he saw. The figure was no 'bear'. It was a damn crazy fangirl, who had pestered him all throughout last year.

It was the fangirl that had managed to impress and annoy Atobe with her repeated confessions. This girl, this abysmal girl, was the girl who had broken the record for confessing to the same person in a week most times. At the prime of her time, she had once made forty-two confessions in one week. Six declarations of love per day. There was just so much Atobe could take. And every time being something unthinkable and scandalous. Like pretending to be a 'bear' and scaring the shit out of the supposed love of her life.

This girl was Takahata Shiori. And it was a name Atobe would never forget, even when he is sent into his coffin. Oh, he would not.

"Damn you, Takahata. Had ore-sama not warned you enough times already last year?" Atobe kicked the girl off his lap, but she dodged it gracefully, and propped herself on her arm, lying indecently on the pure forest floor. She had a very nice body line, one had to admit, and left much to be desired. Her slightly wavy chocolate hair flew in the wind like a cape, and her dark brown eyes that looked at Atobe mischievously must have devoured the hearts of many men.

"Ke-i-go-"

"Need ore-sama repeat his command? You do not call your king by his first name. If you must, say 'Keigo Clarion-Pierre Gabriel Francis Atobe', for that is ore-sama's full name in English, Takahata."

Shiori pouted. "You meanie, Atobe-sama. Just go out with me already."

"Ore-sama knew you were insane, but ore-sama didn't know you were mentally challenged. Which part of 'not interested' do you not understand, commoner?"

She stuck her lip out, and stuffed her cheeks ridiculously. "Eh? I've never been rejected by a male before, you see." Shiori leaned closer, drawing in a breath seductively. "And I don't want anyone to be an exception." Normally, any male creature would have been finished off in ten seconds, but Atobe prided himself in being resistant towards the advances of the female race.

Atobe got up, brushing her off without a second look. "When you become someone ore-sama is interested in, ore-sama will approach you on ore-sama's own account and court you, understand, woman?"

Shiori wailed. "Ehhhh? Atobe-sama!"

Hyotei Gakuen was a prestigious school; even its classrooms were spectacular. Crystal chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, desks made out of maple wood, chairs lined with the finest leather, the floor coated with velvet.

A hand slapped carelessly onto one of those maple wood desks, and yanked the a leather chair casually over the velvet floor. "Ahn, ore-sama is thirsty." The owner of that hand complained. Immediately, a cup of tea was called for. (This is Hyotei. Nobody drinks water.)

Oshitari rolled his eyes. He noticed that he did that a lot when he was with Atobe. "Oh, my king. Why are you having a bad day, Your Highness?"

Atobe must have been feeling a bit poetic, for he answered: "Hell hath no fury like a woman's wrath." Which could mean everything and nothing in particular.

Oshitari nodded in mock sympathy. "Thy humble servant understands. Women, right? Who needs them? Is it Takahata Shiori again?"

At the acute stiffening of Atobe's muscles, Oshitari knew he had hit the spot. Atobe growled. "You would not believe that woman..."

Oshitari rolled his eyes again, not for the first time today nor the last. "Women, right? Who needs them?"

Atobe most definitely haven't reached the light at the end of the tunnel yet, though. After school, he was subjected to a fancy confession of love when he went to the courts for practice. Which involved the confessing party releasing a banner with Atobe's pretty face on it and cloaking the courts with it. (Yes, the banner was large enough to do that. Rich people, right? Welcome to Hyotei.) It took the team half an hour to clean up all the confetti buried under the banner as well. (Atobe would never admit that he secretly liked the banner.)

The coach was thoroughly scandalized. He seemed awfully in shock for the rest of the day, probably from seeing Atobe's tear mole enlarged, becoming approximately the size of a normal human's head.

Atobe was tossed varied reactions, most of them coming from the regulars. Shishido shook his head and sighed, "If you're a true king, you would be able to control your followers, wouldn't you?"

Ootori apologized ten times over for Shishido.

Mukahi took one look at Atobe's tear mole, and rolled on the floor with uncontrollable laughter.

Even Akutagawa widened his eyes at the banner which was the size of ten tennis courts.

Oshitari said this: "Aren't you glad that Your Highness is receiving such a positive image?"

Hiyoshi looked like he wanted to retract his statement of Gekokujou-ing Atobe-buchou as he stared at the crazy banner.

Kabaji did not utter a sound as he cleaned up the courts, but Atobe suspected that he was planning to smuggle that banner home. For what reasons, Atobe did not know.

Unfortunately, the culprit was still lurking around the courts. When Atobe was packing up to leave, one of his rackets was missing. As he was finding it, he spotted a trail of scattered tennis balls, leading to a dark corner of the locker room. When he reached the end of the trail, he wanted to die.

There lay a racket - his racket, in fact - with the frame bent ridiculously into a heart. The logos on the racket frame had stickers of 'LOVE' plastered over them. The grip tape was replaced by a different kind, which lined up to form a portrait of Takahata Shiori smiling seductively.

Ah, women's intuition is so accurate when it comes to the opposite sex's preferences. Where was the male support when you needed it?

Picking up the despicable object, he tried to throw it out in the trash, but not before Mukahi caught him red-handed. Mukahi tried to stifle his laughter by sticking his fist into his mouth, but nearly ended up suffocating himself by shoving the fist too far in. He grabbed the heart-shaped racket without a moment of hesitation, and escaped with it, no doubt to display it to the world.

Atobe swore to all gods and goddesses in existence to see to that woman's bloody demise. If he had time, he would murder Mukahi as well. Atobe also apologized to all the mighty rulers in the world for tainting the title of 'King'.

According to the normal laws of stereotype, girls are commonly misconceived as being smarter and more diligent than most boys. Atobe supported that motion - he'd seen his fair share of successful women in his life - to a certain extent. Takahata Shiori was the exception to his arguments. Atobe didn't know about other girls in the school, but words like 'smart' and 'diligent' wouldn't be on any list that had Takahata Shiori's name on it.

Today's geography class would make the earth cry and grovel in despair.

Teacher: The magma and gases from the asthenosphere is released onto the earth's surface through the lines of weakness in the crust. As the magma bursts out from the fissure, it cools and solidifies to form a volcano. Through this we can identify volcanoes to be...? Takahata?

Shiori: Uhhh.

Teacher: The magma and gases are released onto the earth's surface, relieving the pressure within the asthenosphere, which means?

Shiori: Uh, volcanoes are for the earth to pass gas?

By some miracle, Takahata Shiori was in fact in the same class as Atobe, which came as a huge shock. Hyotei had an elitist system, where students who excel in a particular area would be put in class A, and following into B, C, D, E and F. Atobe failed to see the 'particular area' in which Takahata Shiori excelled in. Her grades were certifiably horrible; her perfect nails and everyday makeup suggests that she hardly plays sports; and, oh, don't even mention the arts. Rumor has it that Takahata once sent the visual arts teacher in tears for butchering the subject.

Speaking of butchery, a rabid fangirl nearly yanked off Atobe's leg this morning, trying to hand him a letter - love letter, no doubt - before he entered his classroom. Takahata had rolled her eyes at the girl, like she was ten leagues above her. It made Atobe want to sigh in frustration, but kings didn't sigh, so he held it in.

Due to the elitist system in Hyotei, if you were in a lower class, you couldn't enter a classroom of a higher class. So, that was a bit of relief for Atobe, for most of the fangirls did not have access to the highest-level class across the year level. Which made Atobe even more curious as to how on earth did Takahata Shiori bribe the principle into letting her into class A. Mind you, this is Hyotei Gakuen, the most wealthy school in Japan, second in Asia, and ranking fifteenth in the world, so you'd probably need more than a few billion dollars to buy your way through.

Admittedly, Atobe had had a bit of a relationship with Takahata among business circles, and her family (and she) was considerably wealthy and influential, nearly on par with the Atobe Conglomerate. She could demand a star, and actually get it.

Little things aside, the Takahata Enterprises run a chain of boutiques, Fleuriste, and was extremely well known in the world of fashion. There wasn't a single person in Japan who didn't know of it. The most high-class fashion designers groveled at Takahata Shiori's command, despite the latter's amazing artistic sense.

What he was trying to say was that Takahata Shiori was one of the most influential women in the world, and she could change the whole world's fashion trend into 'cucumbers' if she really wanted to. And models all over the world would wear cucumbers down the runway. It was one of the reasons as to why Atobe did not dare to make the woman his enemy. The other being that Takahata Shiori would probably hunt him into hell if he ever really pissed her off.

Dinnertime was a sacred time in the Atobe household. Everyone was required to be present on time, and should devote their attention towards the food. Casual banter would be exchanged as shortly and quietly as possible, and no one was allowed to raise their voices, unless the man of the household had something to announce.

Atobe's father put down his silver fork. "Keigo. We will be doing business with the Takahata Enterprises spoon." If Keigo was any less disciplined than he was, he would have spit out his peas in his mouth. But he, being as disciplined as he was, kept a refined posture and looked steadily at his father, awaiting further instructions. Speak of the devil.

"We have had previous crossings with the Takahata Enterprises, but never a direct, solid business contract. Have you read the news, Keigo?" His father's expression darkened. "It was in the morning paper. The Takahata Enterprises just announced that they have finally completely globalized their brand. Their ranking has moved above us. Just this morning."

Keigo understood the situation immediately. The Atobe Conglomerate has always been ranked first in Japan, and around twentieth in the world. The Takahata Enterprises has always been not far below, subtle, biding their time, but the Atobes were arrogant. They never gave much thought to people below them, instead of those above. And now their arrogance had come back and shot them right in the foot.

Not since the establishment of the conglomerate, has it been surpassed. Such a sudden passing of the crown was a major setback for the conglomerate.

His father scowled. "We need to take action. Quickly." Keigo nodded enthusiastically. "Keigo. I will set you up for an engagement with the Takahata's eldest daughter, Takahata Shiori. We shall attack from within." This time, Keigo did indeed nearly spit out his food (meaning that the sausage he was chewing spilled halfway out of his mouth, but hasn't fallen to his plate yet), which earned a disapproving glare from his mother.

His father gave him a disgusted look. "Wipe your mouth, Keigo, and listen to what I have to say. We shall arrange an engagement with Takahata Issei's daughter. They're bound to accept; Issei would never pass up a chance to rise even further. We will cooperate with the Takahata Enterprises, and with the inter-marriage, our link of trust will be established. Understand, Keigo? Of course, the daughter has to agree as well." Atobe wanted to say that there was no way Takahata Shiori wouldn't accept, but he kept his mouth shut. His father continued, "Issei treasures his children, and hold's their best interests at priority. Which includes his daughter's degree of attraction towards you, Keigo. You will court her. I have prepared her personal profile for you, just in case." He snapped his fingers, and a servant brought him a file. "Review this carefully, and know what the girl would like or dislike. Do not make her your enemy." His words spoke volumes. Befriend her. Make her fall in love with you. Court her.

Ah, he'll be damned.

A/N: REVIEW. I need your reviews to continue. I want five. Is that too much?