Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis.
Please enjoy!
Easy A
By sushihearts
Kirihara Akaya has better things to do.
He can be playing tennis. He can be at the arcade, like he is, every day after practice. He can be running the laps Sanada will assign him because he's late. There are billions of things Kirihara will rather do than listen to Nakamura-sensei yap about his score, bloody zero and all. Which isn't even anything new.
Kirihara yanks the paper from Nakamura's hand and shoves it into his pocket. Kirihara stands up, clearly ready to leave, when Nakamura grabs his wrist.
"Not so fast, Kirihara," Nakamura says. Kirihara tries to jerk the man's hand off his wrist, ignoring him. "You do realize you're on the verge of failing my class, don't you?"
To be honest, Kirihara cannot care less. Kirihara has more things to worry about, like tennis, his life... what it will become of now that Kirihara has missed - his eyes dart to the wall clock - ten minutes of practice. Kirihara has enrolled in Rikkai to be the number one tennis player of Japan's number one school, not to study English at one of Japan's top academic institutions. Shouldn't Nakamura know his priorities?
"I think you should know yours," Nakamura says. Kirihara looks away. "Look, sensei, I'm sorry," Kirihara says. "But I have to go." Kirihara means it. He's late. He squirms out of Nakamura's grip and reaches for his tennis bag.
"You're going to be dropped from the regulars if you fail," Nakamura says.
Kirihara freezes, before he laughs and continues walking out of the room, when he stops. He turns around in time to catch something. It's the Rikkai Student Handbook.
"Read. Article III, Section 4."
Nakamura should be done with his business, because Kirihara is done with his. Nevertheless, Kirihara scours the handbook for the passage, if only to humor his teacher. Reading is the least Kirihara can do.
"Article III, Section 4: Any student that fails to maintain a passing mark in any major subject is excluded from extracurricular activities until the academic department head confirms that the student has met Rikkai's academic requirements... Eh?"
"I understand that you are now a regular of the tennis team," Nakamura says. "However, even regulars have to maintain a certain grade in order to participate in club activities."
Crap. Crap.
He's going to be dropped from the regulars.
This is worse than being late for practice, worse than falling asleep in a bus and missing a practice match against some no-name school and "causing a disturbance" in Seigaku instead (Though Kirihara is pretty damn proud of causing so much trouble for Tezuka-san in so little time. The bruise he had to sport for the next couple of days - thanks a lot, fukubuchou - is still worth it.).
Being dropped from the regulars means no more Kanto Tournament. Being dropped from the regulars means Kirihara can kiss his dreams of the Nationals goodbye. He winces. The prospect of no Nationals terrifies Kirihara more than the bruise he's sure he'll be in for later.
"There's no possible way for you to raise scores of the tests you have failed, nor is there a way for you to pass assignments you have failed to submit," Nakamura says. "The only way you can pass is to get at least a 90 on the project I will give you."
Kirihara has to work hard on that project, then.
... Hah. He, Kirihara Akaya, work hard on a project? On a project for the subject he hates most? Like hell.
Kirihara runs a hand through his hair and scratches the base of his neck. "Sensei," Kirihara says. He smiles, widening his eyes just a bit. "I need to pass this class."
"I would... do anything to pass your class. I would do anything for you."
Nakamura's eyes widen like a tennis ball was a hair away from hitting his face, before the man's lips curve into something between a grimace and a smile. Kirihara isn't sure if this - whatever this is - is working, but it has to. Whenever Yukimura does this... thing, Sanada always turns into putty, ready for Yukimura to knead, to crush as he wills. Akaya, Yukimura had said, on one of the team's visits to the hospital, use this technique only at times of need. Never lose. Always win, RikkaiDai.
Kirihara doesn't realize he's shaking until Nakamura sets his hand on Kirihara's shoulders and he stiffens. Is... this supposed to happen? Buchou never said anything.
"Really, Kirihara? You would do anything to pass?"
Kirihara nods, even if he's not sure what's going on anymore.
"Then, you can start by doing me a little favor," Nakamura says. Suddenly, his hand is gone. He steps back. Kirihara holds his breath, waiting. Only for Nakamura to laugh at him. Kirihara is sure he looks as confused as he feels. It takes one look at Kirihara to make Nakamura laugh harder. He's clutching his sides. Kirihara wonders if his teacher will still be doubling over in laughter if Kirihara kicks his stomach.
"Work hard on that project," Nakamura says, nonplussed.
Kirihara exhales sharply. He gathers his bag and what's left of his dignity and storms out, but not before he hears something like, "God, is this what your teammates have been teaching you?"
Kirihara stills, his hand on the clubroom's doorknob. He hasn't run into his teammates on his way to the courts. What will they say when they find out that he might be kicked off the team? Kirihara half-considers ditching today's practice, but for what has he trudged all the way from his classroom in the second floor to the courts at the opposite side of the school? He's already at the courts. Besides, it's not like his teammates will know if Kirihara doesn't tell them. The worst that can happen is for Sanada to slap him and assign him laps for tardiness.
Kirihara opens the door.
Marui and Jackal, already in their school uniforms, are by the lockers. Marui tells Jackal about a dinner buffet. Of course, Jackal's paying. Jackal pales, until Marui pulls out a couple of coupons from his pocket. Just kidding. Marui smiles. A few feet from the pair is Niou in his boxers. He tries to slap Yagyuu with a wet towel. Yagyuu's lip curls. Do hasten, Niou-kun. Yagyuu's already in his uniform. Yanagi and Sanada, still in their towels, are sitting on the benches. Yanagi is proposing a new training menu for the upcoming matches. Sanada's arms are crossed. Modifications wouldn't be necessary if that lazy ass didn't fuck up the team's line-up. Yanagi elbows Sanada's bare arm. Sanada glowers.
Kirihara exhales in relief, completely missing what Sanada said about the hole in the team's roster. He grins. "Hey, guys, you'd never believe how much Nakamura-sensei can yap. I swear, my ears were about to fall off," he says.
Except no one seems to notice him. Kirihara tries again, "Sorry, I was late."
Kirihara looks at his teammates expectantly. No one says anything. No one is even looking at him. Kirihara coughs. Slowly, his eyes widen. They're ignoring him. Kirihara's lower lip trembles. He bites it. He looks at the floor. His face is burning. He blinks - once, twice - and everything is blurry. Before Kirihara knows it, Marui's all over him. "H-hey, you're not supposed to cry, you brat!"
Huh?
Kirihara touches his eyes. His fingers are wet. He hasn't noticed at all.
"Kirihara-kun, I want you to reflect on your actions..." Yagyuu says. Kirihara thinks about every bad thing he's done that has gone unpunished. There are a lot.
"Our goal right now is to win the Nationals," Marui says. "But if you're going to get kicked off the team..." He pops a bubble. "You should have told us that you were having a hard time in English! There are always people who can help you!" He points to the boy next to him. "Like Jackal!"
"Why me?" Jackal asks. Yagyuu shoots him a look. Niou nods at him in approval. Sanada raises his hand. Yanagi pulls Sanada's hand down. Jackal winces. "I mean, why didn't you tell me? You know English is my best subject."
"Shame," Niou drawls. "It's buchou's favorite subject, too."
Buchou.
Oh god, buchou.
Kirihara's eyes dart to Sanada. Sanada draws his hand back, about to strike. Kirihara closes his eyes, bracing himself for the blow - except nothing comes. Kirihara cracks an eye open. Yanagi's holding Sanada's forearm. "Remember, Genichiro, temper's the only thing you can't get rid of by losing it," Yanagi chides. Sanada takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He's counting under his breath.
Kirihara shoots a grateful look at Yanagi, who turns away.
"You need to get at least a 90 on your English project to maintain your spot on the team."
Nod.
"As such, you are temporarily removed from tennis club activities, until the due date of your project. If you fail to get at least a 90, you will be permanently removed from the team."
Nod.
Then,
"Huh? B-but you can't do that! No one can replace me! I'm the second year ace! You guys know no one's good enough! With me gone, the team will be one man short... And who else is going to take buchou's singles one spot?"
"It was Yukimura's decision," Sanada says. "Urayama the freshman has potential. He will more than suffice in taking your position in the team. As for the singles one spot... When hell freezes over."
"Urayama, he's the one that played Kakinoki's captain that time, right?" Niou asks.
"Indeed, Niou-kun. 'That time' being when someone, whose identity I shall not disclose," Yagyuu looks at Kirihara, "dozed off in the bus and caused quite a disturbance in Seishun Gakuen."
Why are they still holding that against him? They should be thanking him for sparing Tezuka. Their match with Seigaku will actually be entertaining - if those losers even make it to the Kanto Tournament, anyway. And why is Yagyuu being mean? It's like he's Niou.
"Ah, Urayama," Jackal says. "He's a very promising player. He's also very independent and mature, which is more than I can say for some people."
"Even buchou says so," Marui says. "Ahh, Urayama-kun just bought be soft-serve ice cream just last week! My favorite kouhai..."
Who the hell is Urayama? Kirihara's fingers tingle. He clenches his fist. Then someone is ruffling his hair. It's Marui. Kirihara crosses his arms. He jerks away from his teammate, but Marui's fingers get tangled in his hair. Marui yanks his hand out, pulling some of Kirihara's hair with it. Kirihara screams.
"BUFFET DINNER!" Marui screams just as loud. He pumps his fist in victory, only to realize he's still clutching Kirihara's hair. Marui shakes his fingers. Kirihara watches, horrified, as his hair falls to the floor. He's too busy staring at his hair to notice that Marui has pulled out seven buffet coupons, until one is shoved in front of his face.
Kirihara's eyes light up. He reaches out to grab the stub, only for Yanagi to pull the voucher from Kirihara's hand. Yanagi places the voucher inside Marui's breast pocket. He turns to Kirihara. "Temporarily removed from tennis club activities," he says.
Oh my god, Marui mouths. Niou sniggers. Yagyuu covers his mouth. Sanada tugs his cap down, but Kirihara can see his smirk. Jackal is biting his lip in a futile attempt to keep himself from laughing.
Kirihara storms out of the clubroom. He pretends he doesn't hear Marui's annoying voice when he asks, "Guys, you think Urayama-kun's still free? We have one coupon left."
Traitors, Kirihara thinks.
The environment within the class is as per usual: meaning, no one is taking Nakamura the English teacher seriously. Some girl in front is painting her nails, while the boy beside her is picking his nose. Someone is texting at one side of the room, while another is eating a convenience store sandwich at the other. At the back of the room sits Kirihara, his face planted flat on his desk as a thick string of drool connects his mouth to the mahogany. If one listens through Kirihara's snoring, that person might hear a faint sound of Nakamura's attempts at commanding the class.
"A PROJECT," Nakamura screams. He slams his hands on the teacher's table for effect.
The noise simmers down until only Kirihara's snoring is the only sound in the room. Nakamura looks at the class representative as though to say, please do your job. Igarashi next to Kirihara nods and pinches his arm. Her nails dig into his flesh, leaving a pair of pale crimson dents in their wake. Kirihara's eyes snap open. He shoots Igarashi a nasty look. She sniffs and looks at the blackboard.
"As I was saying," Nakamura says, to which someone mutters, "We heard you the first-" "AS I WAS SAYING ANYWAY," Nakamura looks at the student. The student sinks into his seat and avoids the teacher's gaze. "This is a special project, because it's worth 15% of your grade."
Several students groan. A project, so early in the school year? Is Nakamura-sensei for real? Hands bolt up and voices raise in objection, but Nakamura goes on:
"Which is the miracle many of you need to pass my class," he says. At that, a good number of students draw their hands and shut their mouths. "But! This is not just a project worth 15% your grade, this is also a pair project. And because of my generosity, I am giving the class an opportunity to choose their own partners."
"Students who fail to pass a paper with their partner's name by the end of the day will have their partners chosen by me. You have the rest of the period to discuss the project. That is all." Nakamura calls Igarashi and tells her something before he leaves the room. Not a minute after Nakamura's exit, the class atmosphere resumes to its usual: thoroughly loud and shamelessly unproductive. Kirihara looks around. None of his classmates' conversations are worth listening to, let alone worth joining. He's about to bury his head in between his arms when-
"Hey, who do you want your to be partner for the project?"
"Someone smart, obviously... Maybe the class rep? She has the highest grades in the batch, doesn't she?" Kirihara glances at his seatmate. Igarashi's covering her mouth, but he can tell she's smiling. She's leaning forward, like their classmates' voices aren't loud enough. He rolls his eyes.
"Of course, she does! She's a total nerd!"
"I bed she'd do all the work because she doesn't want people like us to mess up her perfect record. What a control freak."
"Still, the odds are in our favor, aren't they?"
"You got that right, an easy A!" Kirihara looks at his seatmate again. The said girl's eyes are comically wide. Her mouth hangs open, until she takes a deep breath. She bites her lip. It's almost a pout. She looks like she's about to cry. He snickers. She glares at him. He grins.
"Anyway, I know who I don't want my partner to be..."
"Let me guess! Kirihara Akaya?"
Kirihara doesn't have to look at Igarashi to know that if she doesn't wipe that smug look off her face, he's going to wipe it off for her. And what the hell, don't those two know that Kirihara's just behind them? They should shut up. Shut up. Shut up!
"Heh, I heard Nakamura gave the project so he can pass and keep his spot on the regulars."
His face is on fire. His skin prickles. He feels like he's about to explode. His eyes flit around the room. Has anyone heard? His eyes meet his hers. She shoots him a look. Don't. Hell if he's listening to her! Who the hell does she think she is to boss him around?
Kirihara makes a face. He stands up. He stretches his arms upwards, slowly, and brings them down on top of the two boys' heads. The two nearly jump in shock. Kirihara pushes their heads down just a centimeter from their desks. He turns to Igarashi and raises an eyebrow in an attempt to egg her on. Ha.
He expects her to flash him another annoying look. He expects her to threaten to report him to the teacher. He does't expect her to smile at him. Kirihara scrunches his nose and then - right, those two had insulted her, too. Great.
Before he can snap at her, she stands up, throwing him off guard. She tosses her obnoxiously long hair over her shoulders and walks to the front of the class - or rather, what's left of it - and says, "Lunch time!"
An easy A, he thinks.
He writes his name and hers on a sheet of paper.
Igarashi Hitomi hates lines.
Besides her feet burning from standing on her toes, nothing hurts more than her bruised ego, because she still can't see anything through the gaggle of students in front of her. She half-considers stepping out of the line to get a view of today's lunch menu, but decides against it. She's not losing her spot to the person behind her. Who's standing way too close. Like doing that will get you your food faster, she thinks.
She twitches. She can feel the person breathing behind her. "Achoo," she says, hoping the person can take a hint, but the person only inches closer. She turns, about to say something like, "I'm sorry, but can you please move back? I don't want you to catch my cold." It's nonconfrontational. She opens her mouth-
Only for the words to die because she's standing face-to-face with Kirihara. Of course, it makes sense for him to have no sense of personal space. Before she can say anything, the lunch lady saves her the trouble.
"Next!"
Or not.
Because she ends up slipping, and all she can do is close her eyes and brace herself for the fall, until someone grabs her shoulders. Igarashi cracks an eye open. Kirihara! She shuts the eye again. Of all people, why him?
"Easy," he says, his hands still on her shoulders. Oh, god. She could have gotten a concussion. She could have broken a bone. She could have cracked her skull and died on the floor of the school cafeteria, and how will she compete, then?
But Kirihara saved her.
This is the same Kirihara who robs Igarashi of her free time because teachers think that, just because she's the class representative, she has no other mission in life than to deliver his take-home worksheets because he forgets to take them home (Which completely defeats the purpose of take-home worksheets, which should be taken home!), only for him not to pass the said worksheets when they're due. This is the Kirihara who had the nerve to yawn during her middle school entrance ceremony speech and call it boring (In front of the entire student body! And it is not boring!). This is the Kirihara who, just a few minutes ago, laughed at Igarashi when a couple of their classmates called her a nerd and a control freak (Which she is not!).
Kirihara's always been one of the greater annoyances in Igarashi's list. Technically, he shouldn't matter enough to warrant a spot into any of her lists. They're just seatmates. Who spend nearly ten hours a day within a meter from each other. And if that isn't enough to drive anyone crazy! Everything about him rubs her the wrong way. He's insensitive. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. He terrorizes people (She knows.) for the sake of his own amusement. So far, he has shown absolutely no sign of guilt (She keeps track.). That's how bad he is.
She doesn't know whether to laugh or cry or thank him, but this is Kirihara. There's no way Igarashi's thanking him, not when he's never thanked her for all her time that he's wasted. Igarashi doesn't care if she sounds childish, Kirihara's stupid!
"I know I'm good looking, but it's rude to stare," he says. "Miss. Class. Rep."
Her jaw drops. This has to be a joke. No one really calls himself good looking, right? Except Kirihara doesn't look like he's joking at all. He squeezes her shoulders (Why are his hands still on her? She tries to shake them off, but they don't budge.), like he's urging her to say something (What, refute him? Agree? As if.).
"Usually, normal people would say 'thank you,'" he says, sounding annoyed.
Now that's the Kirihara Igarashi knows.
"Try getting your hands off me first," she hisses, all feelings of uneasiness gone, because this, she can deal with. This is normal, or at least as normal as things can be when Kirihara's involved. Igarashi doesn't know what she'd do if he starts being... nice. She shudders.
Kirihara looks taken aback, before his expression morphs into a smirk. Yeah, definitely the Kirihara Igarashi knows. "As you wish, princess," he snarls. Instead of letting her go, he shoves her to the floor. "You should be more careful, Miss Class Rep," he says, cackling.
The table behind them joins in. It's the girl's dance club. Igarashi's teammates.
"This is not funny!" Igarashi snaps. The laughing gets louder.
Igarashi blinks. Her eyes are hot. Her lip trembles. She wants to go home. She racks her brain for an excuse. Maybe she can fake sick.
Then Igarashi feel's someone's gaze on her, more heated than the looks everyone else is giving her. She looks up. Kirihara's smirking down at her - and he's bending his upper body down, too. That jerk. Forget about going home, Igarashi's staying. She glares at him. She doesn't look away, doesn't even blink, until he's forced to look away first, rolling his eyes. She smooths her skirt and bends her knees, about to stand up when-
She might have sprained her ankle.
Igarashi lets out a breath and stands up, ignoring the throbbing in her left ankle, the same way she has ignored Kirihara's outstretched hand. He still has that stupid smirk on his face. She makes sure to elbow him when she turns around, wincing when she accidentally shifts her weight on her left foot.
She has definitely sprained her ankle.
Shit.
Igarashi inhales. Exhales. Wonders what she should have for lunch. If she's lucky, there's still a plate of fried chicken left for her. She likes fried chicken. Fried chicken is good. Fried chicken keeps her from thinking how the hell she's supposed to dance when the semi-finals is five days away. She closes her eyes and tries to picture her lunch.
"Next!"
When it's Igarashi's turn, there's a plate of fried chicken and a plate of steamed vegetables left. She takes the fried chicken. At least Kirihara will be stuck with the vegetables.
"Akaya, you're handsome as usual! Wait here while I get you a fresh batch of fried chicken and steamed vegetables!"
Igarashi stops on her tracks, gaping. She watches the lunch lady give Kirihara something more than their money combined. There's steam coming off his plate. Her stomach growls and sinks. She looks at her own plate and bites her lip. She refuses to frown.
Kirihara stops in front of her. He looks at her, then at her plate, and at her again, raising an eyebrow. "Care to move?" he says. "You're in the way."
Igarashi looks away, pretending not to hear him. There's plenty of room around them. "I said, move-" She turns and goes back to the lunch lady to ask for a box to put her food in, leaving him to talk to thin air. Igarashi doesn't want to eat anymore.
She's going to the classroom. She might as well study. Or assign more class duties to Kirihara. But that will mean spending more time with him. Nevermind.
Or she can go to the infirmary and ice her ass. She tries to feel it. She flinches. Yeah, she needs to ice that. As if spraining her ankle weren't enough. She rolls her shoulders and keeps her back straight as she walks out of the cafeteria. Only when she's sure that Kirihara can't see her does she allow herself to limp in the hallways.
"Eh, our Miss Class Rep has her hand up her skirt," Kirihara says loudly. Igarashi squirms as stares crawl over her skin. Her face burns with shame. She looks away, pretending not to hear him. Someone asks her if she's all right. She forces a smile and says she's fine.
The smile slides off her face the moment her and Kirihara's gazes meet. "Whose fault do you think this is?" she asks.
"Yours," Kirihara pipes, his voice grating on Igarashi's ears.
Unbelievable.
Igarashi wants to scream, Who's the one that shoved me back there at the cafeteria? If you had just behaved like a decent human being, I wouldn't have my hand up my skirt, icing my sore and bruised ass. I can't believe I ever thought that... God, I hate you. Instead, she holds her tongue. She's not giving Kirihara the satisfaction of getting her riled up.
"Besides, that doesn't compare to a day at tennis practice."
"Oh, you're still on the team?" leaves her mouth before she thinks about it. She doesn't bother fighting the smile that's made its way on her face. Even without looking at him, she knows she's struck a nerve. When Kirihara dares Igarashi to repeat what she's just said, she does so, loudly.
"Why you-"
Kirihara, who's already seated, reaches out to grab Igarashi - only to lose balance. He teeters for a moment, before he crashes to the floor with a hard thud, still seated on his desk. Igarashi winces. That has to hurt. She sniggers. He had it coming. She rests her palm on her desk, still laughing, only to double forward. She grabs on the desk in front of her, breaking her fall. She sighs in relief. Until someone grabs her ankle. She looks down. It's Kirihara. She screams.
It's only then that Igarashi realizes that the whole class is looking and laughing at them. She blinks. They were probably watching since Kirihara's fall. She wants to hide. Igarashi scours the room again in search of a sympathetic or at least unamused face. She meets the gaze of their teacher, who definitely doesn't look amused. She pales. Has long as their teacher been standing there?
"What. Is. Going. On. In. Here?"
Igarashi stiffens. She inhales sharply. She kicks Kirihara's hand off her. She bends down to push him off his chair, swatting his hands from her when he tries to pull her hair. She lifts the chair back in place, leaving him on the floor. "Nothing," she says, forcing a smile.
The teacher's eye twitches. "Igarashi-kun," she snaps.
"Yes, ma'am?" Igarashi asks. Her cheeks hurt from smiling too much.
"Take Kirihara-kun to the infirmary."
Why me? Igarashi thinks. "Yes, ma'am," she says.
She bends down to collect Kirihara. He shuts his eyes and tries to make himself heavier, even though Igarashi knows he's conscious. She slaps different parts of his body as hard as she can, but he uses the opportunity to grab her arms. Although Igarashi's the less powerful of the two, her smaller and thinner frame allows her to squirm from Kirihara's grasp, elbowing away from him. "Get up," she says. "Make me," he says. Igarashi grabs Kirihara's arm in an attempt to pull him up when he stands on his own, throwing her off balance. Igarashi's hands flail to the nearest possible area of support - Kirihara's torso. When she realizes that her hands are on him and everyone's eyes are on them, she scrambles away. Without speaking, they agree to leave the classroom, when their teacher calls on them.
The two students turn to their teacher in uncanny unison.
"Please keep your hands to yourselves."
"But-"
"You may go."
A/N: Thank you for making it this far! What do you think? Should I continue this? Please let me know through a review! I'd really appreciate your feedback and guidance. :D
"Temper's the only thing you can't get rid of by losing it." That quote is from the movie Anger Management, which I do not own. But I do think that it would be a funny thing to say to someone who's as hot-heated as Sanada, no?