Disclaimer: I am not Konomi-sensei, therefore I do not own "The Prince of Tennis" or anything related to this manga, game and anime.
Author's Note: Hehe . . . It seems that ideas are flooding in my head. Another 'ficlet' from me to yis. :D One warning, though: This fic may contain randomness. xD
"Crescendo"
"Mum, I am never wearing that," Marui says in panic, as his hurried footsteps echoes inside the room.
"Oh, come on, Bunbun!" Marui's mother pleads, chasing after her beloved son in his private 'zone' known as the bedroom. "You just have to wear this! For tonight only, please?"
Mrs. Marui is met by silence.
Niou Masaharu snickers at the door, eavesdropping at the Mother-and-Son conversation going on in Marui Bunta's room. He cannot help but feel curious; Mrs. Marui had told him to stay seated and behave like a good boy at the sitting room, downstairs. Unfortunately for the Trickster, Mrs. Marui still hasn't forgiven him over the fact that he wanders around, invades people's — the Marui family, in this case — quarters and sets up traps for them, featuring his favourite pranks.
Well, at least Marui-san is kind enough not to ban me from their home for eternity, Niou smirks, one ear still glued to the blue door that has the sign 'The Genuis' Room. Do not enter.' posted on top.
"Bunbun, don't be afraid! It's not like clothes will hurt you!" Mrs. Marui says in a reassuring tone, her footsteps gaining speed over time.
Niou shakes his head, sighing as he takes out his hidden tape recorder from the pocket of his trousers. Oh, he is recording this, all right, for the sake of blackmail and humiliation.
Wait.
Mrs. Marui said something about clothes not hurting her precious Bunbun. Does that mean . . . Niou shakes his head, disregarding the naughty thought forming in his head. Marui 'Bunbun' Bunta cannot be . . . naked, at the moment, can he?
"It will! Well, technically not, but that kind of clothing will!" Marui argues, running inside his room as he shouts protests.
Niou leans in closer to the door, getting more and more curious as seconds ticks by. If only he can peek inside the room, maybe his curiosity will calm down a bit. If he can, that is.
Silences ensues once more.
Niou sighs in boredom, untangling himself from the door, until . . .
"AHHHH! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Marui screams, and thrashing resonates inside the space beyond closed doors.
Without thinking and relaying on his reactions (and, frankly, 'instincts'), Niou comes to the rescue! He charges at the door, completely forgetting about the functional door knob, and stands in his ground in shock.
One . . . Two . . . Three. No reaction. Then . . .
"What. The. Fuck." Niou says, emphasising each word as his eyes literally twitch, and he cannot avert his emerald orbs from the imagery before him.
Marui Bunta is wearing a dress. A freaking pink, frilly dress and a matching pink high heels!
"Stop staring, you bastard!" Marui says, almost shrieking as he pulls his bed cover and drapes it all over him. If the dress, or his attire, doesn't make him look like a girl, the pink flush on his cheeks and his actions certainly does.
Mrs. Marui, who, by now, is glaring at Niou Masaharu, elegantly stomps to the Trickster's side, pulls him by the back of his collar, and dumps him out of 'Bunbun''s room.
Niou is still . . . dazzled by what he had just seen. He comes back to his senses when the door to the volley-specialist's bedroom shuts closed, loud enough to be heard in the whole neighbourhood.
There is silence again.
Niou Masaharu doesn't understand why there is always silence after noise, or is it the other way around? He realises that the tape recorder is still recording and decides to stick it somewhere where the whole family will not be able to locate.
The only reason he is there, after all, is because of homework. The two of them are supposed to do it together, but it seems like today is no good for Marui.
Niou exits the house quietly. There is something awfully fishy about it . . . and the neighbours that had seen him, shudders in fear.
Almost the entire student body is present outside the recording club as they snicker, whisper and laugh amongst themselves. Marui Bunta notices this, so he approaches them until he spots a familiar-looking Second Year laughing like there is no tomorrow.
"What is all the commotion about, brat?" Marui asks in 'mild' interest, irritation spelling itself on his face as the Junior Ace of the Rikkai Dai Tennis Team continues to laugh. "Brat, I'm talking to you!"
Kirihara Akaya stops laughing for a split second before he burst into series of hysterical laughter.
Marui, exasperated, decides to ignore him and pushes himself through, until he freezes in his place due to something . . . or someone's familiar voice.
"Bunbun, put on this lovely dress!" His mother's voice. He recognises that.
"NEVER!" His own voice coming from the speakers booms like hundreds of drums in a parade. Marui's face begins to pale.
"Oh, come on! Bunbun-bunny-snookums looks great in this little dress I bought~!"
"Mum, first of all, I am a guy. Second, I hate female clothing!"
"But, you were so adorable when you put on this kind of clothing when you were little. You didn't argue back then!"
"That's because I was only a kid! How should I know?"
"You're never playing Tennis for the rest of your life if you don't put this on."
". . . Fine."
Akaya is somehow able to approach him, tears are flowing down his cheeks from the intense laughter he has been suffering from, earlier. Akaya puts a shaking hand on Marui's shoulder, amusement dancing in his green orbs. "Hey, Senpai, how was your night from the party? Flirt with any guys last night?"
"Brat, I'm giving you and the others ten seconds to flee. Otherwise, I will personally chop your heads off," Marui threatens, his tone of voice is dripping with venom.
Akaya gulps, backing away slowly with every else, and runs to somewhere safe.
Lesson learned: Never anger the volley-specialist if you want to die.
Marui Bunta gave a fit when he heard that Niou Masaharu, his oh-so-beloved boyfriend, was behind all of these.
Niou had a hard time hiding from the redhead, who seems to be seeing red, despite being the Trickster.
The abnormal fall of silence to the sudden loud noise of Marui's voice frightened Niou.
Crescendo, he notes, running as fast as he can to evade the volley-specialist's rage. Oh, he'll make it up to him later . . . Right now, Niou needs to get away from him as soon as possible if he values his southern region like the rest of the male population.
Crescendo means to grow louder; Marui's screaming seems to fit the description.