Every Day Life

by Maaya

Ryoma didn't bat an eye. Or if he did, it was well hidden under his t shirt, which he was in progress of tugging off.

Stereotyped Fuji humor, ficlet, PG. (Momo/Ryoma? Tezuka/Ryoma? Both/Ryoma? Plain smart!Ryoma?)

Every Day Life
by Maaya

Momo capped his bottle of deodorant and stuffed it into his bag before holding out his hand, waving it absently in Ryoma's direction at the same time as he continued to search for something in his bag. "Echizen. Shirt."

Ryoma didn't bat an eye. Or if he did, it was well-hidden under his t-shirt, which he was in progress of tugging off. "I'm not your servant."

"Huh?" Momo looked up from his bag, voice catching a hint of irritation. "The locker is right beside you."

"Mm." Ryoma cast the shirt a disinterested glance. "That's not yours."

Momo stared at him. "What are you talking about? It's my locker--" he walked over to inspect said school uniform shirt. The label said, Tezuka Kunimitsu. "--err."

"Oishi! Why do you have my socks in your bag?" an offended Eiji cried from further into the locker room, at the same time as a somewhat flushed Kaidoh returned Kawamura's briefs to the equally flustered owner.

After having his shoes returned by Eiji, Inui carefully wrote down to beware of Fuji, would he ever again sprain his ankle badly enough to be unable to attend practice.

A bored Fuji was a dangerous Fuji indeed.

Then, Inui flipped pages and began to ponder just why Ryoma could tell the difference between Momo's and Tezuka's shirts so easily.

end