Author's Note: The result of taking a humble attempt at Rikkai Dai humour from waaay back in the days of yore, editing the absolute hell out of it, before finally repackaging it with a new, snazzy title. There may be a precious few out there who still remember the original, significantly shorter version, and I can only ask for your understanding and forgiveness for essentially double-posting (though it has been much improved, I think). Anyway, as always, sharing is caring and much appreciated! (^.^)/
Disclaimer: The Prince of Tennis, Cadbury Adam's Bubblicious Savage Sour Apple bubblegum and William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet all have one thing in common. Yep, you guessed it. They do not belong to me.
Because This Is Rikkai Dai
-#-
It was an unnaturally hot summer's afternoon in Kanagawa Prefecture ("Senpai, I'm DYING! It's gotta be like a BILLION freakin' degrees out here!" "…I'm sure it's not quite as much as a billion, Akaya. To be exact, today is—" "KIRIHARA! Twenty laps around the courts for wasting valuable time!" "But—" "FORTY!"), so it was in no way unexpected that the members of Rikkai Dai's elite weren't particularly appreciative of the gruelling practise schedule imposed upon them by their stone-faced fukubuchou.
Of course, that was not to say that said stone-faced fukubuchou – watchfulness incarnate, and looming over his unfortunate underlings in full black-and-yellow battle regalia as per usual – didn't feel at least some measure of compassion for the sweaty, unhappy-looking crew. Sanada Genichirou was, after all, contrary to widespread popular belief, only human; and as such, he didn't exactly relish standing under the burning sun (in complete uniform, which in his case just so happened to be both long-sleeved and pant-legged, topped off with a heat-absorbing black cap) any more than the next man. But then there was the not-so-small matter of the Seigaku Incident, and after their humiliating loss at the Kantou Regionals final to those insolent upstarts from Tokyo, a truly shocking event wholly unanticipated even by Yanagi, it wasn't as if he (and, therefore, nobody else either) had any choice in the matter. In the wake of such an unpleasant wakeup call, tennis had assumed an even more urgent sense of life and death than ever before. Now it no longer was the relatively uncomplicated matter of personal pride; the good name and fearsome reputation of Rikkai Dai Fuzokuchuu's Tennis Club had been tarnished, and there was no way that he – Rikkai's Emperor – would stand for any more disgrace, no sir!
But after about an hour's worth of disgruntled, but nonetheless obedient participation, Sanada sensed the first, hushed signs of an upcoming rebellion. And naturally, the vice-captain did what he did best to quell any and all ambition to mischief: assigning laps. Sanada's too long experience with dealing with the spirited bunch of jerks who dared to call themselves the regulars, had taught him that 'positive reinforcement' had nothing whatsoever on some old-fashioned punishment, and that several laps around the courts produced the most satisfying results. But while this tried and tested method for deterring certain members on the team from committing their usual acts of disruptive devilry should have worked (and probably would have, too, had it not been so damn hot!), the Fates seemed unusually insistent on giving him the finger… and not ten minutes later, full-blown chaos had broken out all around him and mutiny was a fact.
"Too slow, seaweed-head! Too slow!"
Rikkai's resident Trickster was teasing their youngest while skipping about the tennis courts, waving something that looked too much like a green stick to be anything else, in the air triumphantly.
"No wonder you got your chubby little ass kicked by that Fuji!" he crooned, and Kirihara Akaya literally saw red.
"WHY YOU…!" he snarled, all feral and bruised pride, lashing out at his older teammate who just laughed in his face before dodging the attack with infuriating ease. "S-STAND STILL, SENPAI!"
But Niou Masaharu, who had remained calm and completely unfazed by the outburst, simply looked down at his fuming kouhai imperiously. "Brat, you're a hundred years too early if you think a slowpoke like you could land one on the Trickster!"
Plotting his revenge on those Seigaturds or not… Heck, Niou couldn't help it. Not only was it fucking hot outside, but Akaya was getting on his nerves even more than usual (not that the tadpole didn't make for an enticing target any day of the week: the kid was gifted with a practically non-existent fuse and zero self-control) and Sanada had entered the final phase of his Drill Sergeant From Hell-spiel and well on his way of beating the will to live right out of them with their own tennis racquets. Clearly, this could not go on, and the Trickster figured that since things really couldn't get much worse than they already were, he might as well take some responsibility for their present situation and work a bit of his magic.
They would thank him later.
"Oi, seaweed-head, is that all you've got?"
"I'll crush you, senpai! I swear I'll—"
Oh bless. Niou regarded the fruit of his labour with some affection, ignoring the irate second-year's rant about revenge and whatnot. It was almost too easy: bait him just a little, push his buttons just so and trust the kid to deliver. People could say what they wanted about their self-proclaimed Ace (and Niou knew they did), but at least Akaya was reliable like that. But now for the main event… Niou had no doubts that Sanada the Killjoy would wrestle himself to come control of the situation sooner or later – Sanada was a determined bastard so it was inevitable, really – but he'd be damned if he couldn't keep the ball spinning for at least another twenty minutes! After all, their demonic fukubuchou wasn't the only one with a reputation to worry about, and Niou was rather proud of his uncanny ability to cause mayhem.
"Don't be like that," he pleaded with such genuine show of sincerity that even Yagyuu, who understood these things better than most, looked mildly amused. "Aka-CHAN, it isn't polite."
Akaya balled his hands into two hard fists at his side, quietly contemplating whether or not murder was really worth it.
"Aka-chan, are you listening?"
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" the junior finally howled, once he had decided that there was a fair chance that they would let him play tennis in prison.
"Call you what?" cooed Niou, gracefully dancing out of reach of the messy ball of fury. "Your beady little eyes are adorable! And don't get me started on the hai—"
"NIOU-SENPAI!"
Akaya looked like he was about to explode, and the Trickster felt that it was about time to rope in a new, unwitting victim. "Ne, what'cha think, Bunta-kun?" he grinned innocently, deftly swiping the Tensai's trademark bubblegum from his shorts pocket with astonishing skill, showcasing abilities more readily expected from a magician or professional pickpocket than from a fourteen-year-old student. "Wanna play?"
"What the… Niou?"
Marui Bunta had been busy doing his drills on a far court, quietly minding his own business in hope that his unusually good behaviour would protect him from any more of Sanada's crazy running, when Niou suddenly bumped into him before whizzing past with Akaya close at his heels. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the collision must have been totally deliberate, and feeling deeply unsettled, Marui reached into his pocket for a fresh piece of gum – only to realize that it was missing. (Missing as in not there. Missing, as in gone. Missing, as in being waved at him, from a distance, by an exuberant Niou.)
On one hand, Marui knew that he should just ignore it – that he should take the high road and be the bigger man – but DAMN that Niou if what he had stolen wasn't a new pack of Bubblicious Savage Sour Apple, which not only was the Best Gum Ever Made, but an import from the United States and subsequently freaking expensive to boot.
Teammate or not, Niou was going down.
"Oiii, come back!" he shouted, shaking off Jackal who had come over from an adjacent court and was trying to hold him back. "Jackal, get off! Niou, you bastard, GIMME BACK MY DAMN GUM!"
"AHAHAHAHA!"
"Bunta! Don't! It's not worth it!"
"Niou-senpai! Stand still!"
"Don't you dare do anything to my gum!"
"What'cha gonna do about it, Cake-chan?"
"Cake-WHAT?!"
By the time Marui had joined Akaya in chasing Niou around the tennis courts, Sanada had nearly walked out on his idiot team four times. Only the thought of Yukimura's pale and haggered face when Sanada swore to look after everything until he came back, prevented him from swiftly exiting the courts and never, ever look back. It was beyond him just how on earth Yukimura managed on a daily basis – only Kami-sama knew that the Rikkai regulars were a lively bunch even on a good day – but how many times hadn't a single of his gentle smiles silenced even Akaya's motor mouth? A born leader of men, something about their captain demanded respect, though it did help that Yukimura could be scary as heck when he put his mind to it. (Something that Sanada would rather die a slow and painful death for than ever admitting out loud.)
The long-suffering vice-captain sighed, only barely resisting the sudden urge to massage his temples; after all, showing any sign of weakness in the presence of the wild, bloodthirsty beasts otherwise known as members of the tennis team, was like begging them to cause even more trouble. Instead, he looked over to the tall, lanky boy to his immediate right, vaguely hoping for some guidance. But Yanagi Renji – the Master of Data Tennis and fellow Demon – was quietly observing the three-person pandemonium through his perpetually drawn eyelids, calm and impassive as ever. Dutifully clad in his yellow jersey despite the heat, he was clutching a tennis racquet, which wouldn't have been at all out of place had it been one of Yanagi's own. It was only after closer inspection – the damage along the frame was completely uncharacteristic of Yanagi – that Sanada realized that it belonged to none other than their bratty, self-proclaimed Ace. Such a discovery was, well, somewhat unnerving on one level (because just how the hell did that Yanagi know these things, anyway?), but the vice-captain had to hand it to the strategist and his impressive knack for making ridiculously accurate predictions.
"Taking into account the weather forecast for today, as well as Niou and Akaya's respective behavioural patterns, conflict was inevitable," explained Yanagi matter-of-factly in a low voice. "We can't afford any unnecessary injuries before the Nationals, especially not now. I was merely taking proper precautions."
Sanada curtly nodded his approval, before forcing his attention back to the troublesome trio still wreaking havoc on his tennis courts.
"AKAYA! Stop chasing Niou!" he barked with as much authority as he could, secretly relieved that this extra weekend practise had been scheduled for the regulars only. He would never have lived this down in front the eyes of the whole club. "NIOU! Don't toss the gum to Akaya! Marui, don't you DARE drag Jackal into all this!"
But it was to no avail. They were far too involved in their cat-mouse-gum chase to pay him any attention whatsoever.
Mattaku. Sanada's eyes narrowed into thin slits as the source of his throbbing headache swerved into focus: Niou.
And so he turned to address the supposed Gentleman on the tennis team (whom Sanada suspected fully capable of intricate and devious enough schemes to make even his doubles partner proud; after all, one did not simply walk away from prolonged exposure to Niou unharmed), who was leaning against the chain link fence, casually fanning himself with a volume of Shakespeare. "Yagyuu!" he ordered. "Rein in that Niou!"
"Certainly, Sanada-kun."
The bespectacled youth politely nodded his accord, before carefully putting away his book in one of the side compartments of his tennis bag.
Yagyuu Hiroshi had retired to the shadows once his mischievous doubles partner started to seriously taunt their junior, content with watching the situation spiral out of control from a comfortable distance. Then when Marui-kun was also dragged into the conflict, Yagyuu knew that they would be in it for the long haul for sure, and had thus pulled out his copy of Romeo and Juliet (a school assignment only marginally more interesting than watching Niou-kun successfully bait both Kirihara-kun and Marui-kun before having them turn on each other). But if Sanada-fukubuchou-kun requested his assistance, who was he to refuse?
(Especially when the aforementioned fukubuchou wielded the power to assign them as many laps as his unforgiving heart desired, because if sufficiently provoked, Sanada-kun would. Oh yes, Yagyuu held no illusions of otherwise.)
In the corner of his eye, Yagyuu glimpsed something white-bluish galloping towards him, and he expertly folded out one of his legs to obstruct its path. Not three seconds later, Niou-kun had tripped over it and Yagyuu launched a half-hearted attempt to chastise his fallen teammate.
"Niou-kun," he began, somewhat seriously, though he in reality held very little interest in what Niou-kun did or did not do, provided that it didn't involve him. "You heard Sanada-kun. Stop running around and be reasonable."
"Make me, Yaaaaaagyuu," drawled the troublemaker. Then, flashing his now twitching doubles partner a wicked grin, Niou picked himself off of the ground to be on his merry way once more.
Seeing Yagyuu's blatant failure at taking some sense into Niou, Sanada gave up all pretences to self-restraint and bellowed, "NIOU! IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE THIS INSTANT, I—"
"Genichirou."
The strange, tense quality to Yanagi's sudden input stopped him mid-breath, but before Sanada could properly demand an explanation (or Yanagi had the chance to give him on at his own accord), Akaya had stopped dead in his tracks, bright green eyes bulging out of their sockets.
"N-Nani!" he exclaimed, stumbling over his own words. "Bu… Buchou?"
"What?" Niou was sniggering condescendingly at his stupid kouhai, throwing Marui's coveted bubblegum at his head. "Has the heat finally gotten to you, Aka-chan?"
But when 'Aka-chan' didn't yell, attack or even look like he was paying any attention, Niou turned around to check what could have shocked the volatile second-year into silence.
"Oi, brat! What's the big—" Later, Yagyuu would swear to have heard the distinct clatter of the Trickster's lower jaw hitting the ground at that precise moment. "Yu-Yukimura."
And one by one, the remaining regulars turned their heads towards the path leading to the tennis courts. But not another word was spoken, because there, practically floating down the last few steps and through the metal gate, immaculately clad in Rikkai Dai yellow (which even Sanada had to admit was wholly unflattering in its excruciating brightness) was their much missed and much talked-about captain. Yukimura Seiichi, age fourteen and already known nationwide as the demonic Child of God, was proudly striding towards them, arms resolutely crossed over his chest in front of him and with his green headband neatly in place among perfectly tousled locks. It was a truly awe-inspiring sight; his jacket elegantly draped over his slender shoulders, billowing out from behind him in the mild breeze, a predatory smile gracing his lips.
As he watched the apparition draw closer, the Gentleman briefly entertained the idea of some sort of heatstroke. But then he took note of Jackal-kun's dumbfounded face and promptly changed his mind. Jackal-kun was one of the more reliable members on the team; so in spite of it all, Yagyuu was neither delirious nor overheated. The boy walking towards them had to be real. The Yukimura-kun walking towards them was real, and it could only mean that he had finally come back.
Yanagi, on his part, was deep into his calculations: the likelihood that they were all experiencing some kind of collective bout of hallucination was only 0.169%, even when factoring in their present level of physical exhaustion, probable dehydration and the added mental stress of the Seigaku Effect. The probability of this person being Seiichi in the flesh was nearly 1, and this left Rikkai's resident number-cruncher feeling both pleased and a tad annoyed. After all, according to his data, only a measly 14.7% had been in favour of Seiichi choosing this particular time and place to stage his reappearance. Yanagi had correctly identified this week as The One – Seiichi had been recovering at his home for nearly two whole weeks and was due back any day now – but the Master had been embarrassingly certain (and who in his right, logical mind would ignore the convincing 78.3% in favour of) that the captain would wait another two days. Well. Yanagi supposed that even he should have known better than trying to predict the actions of the Child of God. After all, Seiichi had a long and well-documented history of continuously defying the patterns of his own data, and some things seemed destined not to change.
Shocked silence prevailed as Yukimura took up his rightful place between Sanada and Yanagi, thus finally completing the fearsome Rikkai Dai Troika; and so it might have continued for yet another couple of minutes at least, hadn't it been for the sudden pop! of Marui's gum, seemingly demanding from them an intelligent, verbal response.
And never one to disappoint, especially not where his captain was concerned, Sanada dutifully cleared his throat. "Yukimura," he started, but was interrupted by a warm smile and a hand placed on his arm.
"Sanada," said the blue-haired teen kindly, at once acknowledging his friend and second and making it crystal clear that he would be taking over now thank you very much, before turning to address the rest of his stunned foot soldiers.
"Everyone—" Yukimura's smile widened by just a fraction, and even Niou inadvertently took half a step back, "—I would be very interested in hearing how MY Rikkai Dai turned into a zoo in my absence. I might have expected something like this from Fudomine or Yamabuki, but tell me, since when were we either of those schools?"
"…eh."
The Trickster was struggling to maintain his composure under the full brunt of Yukimura's Charm Beam of Doom, fervently wishing that the captain might find some other goddamn victim to pick on.
"Who are we?" The kindness in Yukimura's expressive eyes contained not a shred of mercy.
"We're Rikkai Dai," replied Niou as boldly as he dared, which really didn't amount to very much.
(That alone would be enough to provide Akaya with enough ammunition to last him a lifetime.)
The captain nodded in agreement, visibly pleased with the answer, and Niou was still fighting the urge to cry with relief when he was hit across the face with the next question. "What is it, then, that we do best?"
"We, eh… We…"
Niou Masaharu's resolve not to dissolve into a blubbery, incoherent mess in front of his teammates was crumbling faster than a cookie within reach of Bunta's greedy little fingers, but not one of the selfish bastards – who dared to call themselves his teammates – seemed ready to step up, be a pal and do something. But even now all was not lost, because there was still Yagyuu: in this, his hour of dire need, Yagyuu was sure to help him. Yagyuu the Gentleman – Yagyuu the Chivalrous – Yagyuu the Loyal – Yagyuu, his own fucking doubles partner – would come to his rescue. There simply was no way that he wouldn't.
And so, brimming with confidence that appropriate diversion was on its way, Niou waited. Niou cast a few irritating glances. Niou stared pointedly. Niou fired off his most menacing glare. But Yagyuu just stood there, refusing to even make eye-contact with him.
So that was it, was it? Yagyuu – former friend and a selfish, selfish bastard – was putting his own survival first, coldly abandoning Niou with a Yukimura who was growing more and more impatient with each passing second, and… Oh Kami, if he wasn't too young to die!
Yagyuu's ultimate act of betrayal made it all the more surprising when Akaya finally came to his aid:
"…win," he muttered, not daring to look his buchou straight in the eye. "We win."
"Y-Yeah," added Marui reluctantly, anxiously working away at his gum like a distressed hamster. "We win at tennis. Right, Jackal?"
Jackal Kuwahara wasn't deaf to the obvious plea in Bunta's voice – he only wished that he was – and thus felt obliged to nod, which he also did. This valiant show of bravery and solidarity between doubles partners made Niou's skin crawl with annoyance.
"That we do," Yukimura finally agreed to everyone's immense but tragically premature joy. "HOWEVER. We do not run around on the tennis courts like wild animals. This place is not Rokkaku, understood?"
"Hai!" they chorused, far too intimidated to do anything else.
"Very good."
The regulars held their breaths as slender fingers tugged at a few stray locks of hair.
"Everyone, fifty laps around the courts if you will…"
Nobody dared to move.
"Now."
Needing no further encouragement, Niou, Akaya, Jackal, Yagyuu and Marui set off in quiet panic, happily leaving their former disagreements and complaints in the dust behind them; and Sanada, who had watched their instant transformation from Creatures of the Underworld to normal human beings, was beyond awed.
"Yukim—"
"Sanada—" The captain's voice was dangerously silky, "—that includes you."
Yanagi almost shook his head in bemused wonder as the infamous Emperor obediently set off after the rest of the team. It had taken Seiichi just four words and a heartbeat to reclaim his place at the top of Rikkai's pecking order; not that the Master had given any serious thought to the possibility of Genichirou fighting him for it. Until now the God-given right to rule their precious turf of asphalted tennis courts had been his to use – and abuse – at his own discretion, but when said Deity demanded back his absolute authority, it was foolish not to oblige.
(Besides, even with Seiichi back in business, Genichirou had lost none of his power to assign laps whenever he saw fit.)
"Oi! Sanada-fukubuchou!" Akaya was slowly bouncing back to his normal, confident self, feeling a lot braver now that buchou no longer was looking directly at him. "Are you coming or what?"
"Kirihara-kun, remember who you're talking to," replied Yagyuu disapprovingly. Although he had eventually been forced to at least privately accept that Kirihara-kun was a lost case – and to seriously reprimand him for his serial-offending ways was a complete waste of breath, since he was guaranteed to do it again – it did in no way mean that the Gentleman would just let it slide. "Sanada-kun is an upperclassman."
"Who will make you run until your short little legs fall off," added Niou gleefully from somewhere behind Yagyuu. "Yukimura might be back, but don't go pushing your luck, seaweed-head."
The junior was immediately up in arms. "Don't call me that!"
Niou grinned. Sometimes, it was almost shamefully easy. "Why's that, Aka-chan?"
"YOU… YOU JUST WAIT, NIOU-SENPAI!"
"Oi, oi what's this? You really think you can keep up with me?"
"There's nothing I can't beat you at, senpai! I'll cru—"
"AKAYA! NIOU!" A harsh, monotonous voice thundered overhead; and Jackal hoped that it was only his overworked nerves, but didn't it sound a bit too cheerful? "TEN EXTRA LAPS! EACH!"
-#-
Yukimura watched them turn a corner, momentarily disappearing from view completely, before addressing the only one of the regulars to have escaped punishment. "Renji," he said simply.
"Seiichi," replied Yanagi solemnly. "Welcome back."
(He left the 'from all of us' unsaid. It wasn't necessary given the 98.5% chance that Seiichi just knew anyway.)
"Yes. I'm back. I'm finally back." Yukimura was taking it all in: the tennis courts, the team, the noise, the smell, the feeling of being home. Of being back where he belonged. "It really has been a while, hasn't it…"
It wasn't like the Child of God to be so pensive, and it served as a sharp reminder that he indeed had been out for the count.
"Thank you, Renji—" Yukimura's voice was quiet, "—for everything. Sometimes I wondered if I would ever come back."
"…you could have said something," said the data-specialist at last, breaking the silence. It wasn't an accusation; it was an observation. "We have been waiting," he added.
"I suppose," conceded Yukimura, sounding mildly apologetic.
Yanagi raised an eyebrow.
(Then why didn't you?)
"I didn't know when I would be allowed back." Yukimura sighed. "I wanted it to be a surprise, though had I known…" He trailed off, clearly referring to the fact that most of the first-stringers were currently running punishment laps.
"Despite the recent setbacks, we did work hard in your absence," felt the Master obliged to point out. "Especially Genichirou."
"I know," replied Yukimura flatly, just like Yanagi had predicted that he would. "I wouldn't have expected anything less… from any of you."
The Child of God straightened, sure to have his usual smile securely back in place by the time his team came back into view once more. Sanada had taken the lead, stoically ignoring a determined-looking Akaya snapping at his heels. Niou and Yagyuu were running side by side – past differences forgiven and forgotten for the present moment – as were Jackal and Marui.
"Because this is Rikkai Dai," continued the captain fondly as his ears picked up on the jokes, good-natured taunts, threats and overall childishness.
Yanagi could only nod in agreement.