EFF YOU HOUSE! THERE IS NO INTERNET! HOW ON EARTH CAN I LIVE WITHOUT INTERNET OH DAMN.
I WILL START ON THIS CHAPTER OF FTINOL. HAHA
I'll take this internet-less situation with a calm, and cool head. Calm. Cool. Calm. Cool.
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH NO INTERNET HOWWWW? HOWWWW? (oops, Mom is staring...)
I can't believe that I can spend the first eleven years of my life without internet and suddenly I can't survive three weeks without it.
Screw it. Thanks everyone! I can't believe that people actually are reading this story. Okay, I believe it because I posted it online, but you guys just make me so HAPPY with all your F! A! R! (favourites, alerts, reviews … yes, lame)
Ohmigod, go and FAR and you'll go FAR!
… airplane food has gotten to my head. (don't eat the carrots, they taste like rubber)
Well, I'll post this up after I have finished It and manage to get into a café or something with free WiFi, then I'll just hop in and buy a coffee and take up useless space. Unfortunately, this place doesn't seem to have cafes with free WiFi.
This authors note is getting super long, so I'm just gonna stop now.
Yes.
ENJOY! MON MAGNIFIQUE HISTOIRE! (google translate is better than babelfish. Just for those egoistical people who don't want to say it in a language two billion of the world can understand)
"You're leaving now?"
"Yes, I TOLD you Fuji-san was THE ONE. Told you, told you!"
"Ryoga, could you at least pretend to be sad to leave?"
"Why? I am sad, am I not?"
"Not the way I see it, no."
"I still was the one who told you. You and Fuji-san are so in LURVE."
"Yes."
"HE makes you HAPPY!"
"Stop gloating."
"Until you admit it!"
Ryoma snapped. "HE MAKES ME SOOOO HAPPY."
"See?" Ryoga was positively glowing with self importance and pride. Understandable, it was his first job, but it didn't make him any less annoying.
"I see."
"And I was the one who told you! I knew it from the start! Well, actually it was the watch, but still, I KNEW IT!"
"Watch."
"YUP! Boss gave it to me! Said I would do a even better job if I had it."
A watch? Ryoma had never heard of that in his brief Ryoga episode. True, he had never asked Ryoga about his line of work, but was he supposed to? Expected to? Since the book incident he had never wanted anything to do with Ryoga and his weirdness. But this watch seemed worth finding out about…
"Watch?"
"Oh right, I never told you about it. Don't tell anyone, okay? It's boss's little secret," he winked, "You see?" He lifted up his sleeve, revealing a blood red watch with yellow spots. The clock face was a pale, robust pink, with the numbers replaced with Ryoma's and Fuji's initials, "Boss said I was the only one who has it," he grinned, "I got your names in when I first saw you, and if the face turns pink, then it's good!"
"If the face turns pink."
"Yep, then there's LOVE IN THE AIR!" Ryoga bounced.
"Oh." Well this completely changed everything… There was most definitely no LOVE IN THE AIR with him and Fuji. Not at all.
"Okay, we're here." Ryoga held his arms akimbo and looked up at the tree.
"So how are you going to go back again."
"Just up the tree I supposed, I was told to go back the way I came, and I came by the tree… so…" He hopped up and grasped a branch, hoisting his body up and wrapping his legs around the wood. Looking down, Ryoga saw Ryoma's confused face staring back at him, "Aww, sad to see me leave?"
"You wish."
After a bit of struggle, Ryoga managed to get into a standing position on the branch that looked much too thin to support his weight. It creaked, and Ryoma immediately jumped away from the branch's immediate area.
"Hey, I don't see the portal," Ryoga's search displaced quite a large number of leaves, a few of which landed in Ryoma's hair.
"If you don't mind, could you make this process simple, at least?"
"If I could, I would, but I can't!" More rustling of leaves. Ryoga grunted, pushing various twigs out of his face.
"Hey, Ryo-chan, what's up?"
"Oh," Ryoma squinted up at the tree, "Ryoga's just… OH! Fuji-senpai! Ryoga's just… just…"
"Hey, something wrong down there?"
"Have you found the tennis ball yet Ryoga?"
"What tennis ball? Ryoma?" Ryoga's face peeked out from a few layers of foliage, "Oh! Fuji-san! Um, I can't find the tennis ball, Ryoma."
"You have a leaf in your hair, Ryo-chan."
"Don't call me that," Ryoma scowled as Fuji leaned over to pluck it out of his hair.
"Oh you guys are just so lovey dovey it's so cUUUTAAAHHH!" The effort of bending over severely threw off Ryoga's centre of gravity, and now he lay, unharmed but disorientated, on the grass.
"So Ryoga," Ryoma said, his eye twitching uncontrollably from Fuji's arms snaking around his body, "What are you going to do about the tennis ball?"
"Well, it's only in the tree, so I have to wait till I can get to it."
"Ryoga-kun, when are you leaving?" the smile on his face was unreadable.
"After I get the tennis ball," Ryoga grunted, seemingly unaffected, hooking his knees over a branch and getting back on the tree.
"Ryoma, could you come over a sec?"
"What?"
"Oooh! A Lover's private conversation, how am I to intrude?" Ryoga yelled from his place on the tree.
"Ignore him, just ignore him," Ryoma muttered, pulling Fuji away from the tree.
"Ryoma, my hand will be pulled off if you continue like that."
That's the idea.
Love is in the air. Ryoga's words echoed around his head. Then suddenly, he threw down Fuji's hand as if it was white hot iron.
"Something wrong?"
"Nothing!" If the face turns pink, then it's good.
Then there's love in the air.
Love.
"Nothing, you asked for a moment?" Ryoma brushed his bangs out of his pink face.
"Yes, I was asking you when Ryoga was going to leave."
"Ryoga? Leaving? Oh yes! He's supposed to leave right now, but he wants his tennis ball."
"Right now?"
"Yeah…"
"Well then, want to go on one last date?" Fuji grinned.
"Date. I thought we already ta-"
"Not exactly a date, I just want to experiment on how many laps Tezuka will give to us for skipping."
"Very smart."
"Care to join me? I do need a larger sample size than one. Maybe two would suffice."
Was this worth facing Tezuka's wrath for?
"I bet sixty."
"I bet hundred."
"Well what are your stakes, Fuji-senpai?"
"If I lose, I'll have to play a match against you."
"You'll play seriously?"
"If the situation calls for it." Fuji smiled.
"But what if a situation never occurs?" Ryoma countered.
"Then make one. What are your stakes then, Ryoma?"
"If I lose… I'll have to play a match against you."
"Then it wouldn't be quite fair Ryoma, seeing as both of us are going to have to play a match whether or not we win or lose."
"That's the general point."
"Well I think you should change your stakes. How about… watching Heaven Almighty with me again?"
"NO. Nonononono."
"Well then, that's perfect!"
"WHAT?"
"You don't want to do it, so it makes the perfect forfeit. And I'll be with you."
"That only makes it worse."
"Did you say something, sorry, I didn't quite catch it, care to repeat it?" Fuji's voice dripped with pure malice.
"No, I didn't say anything."
"Funny."
"Um, Fuji, can I raise it to eighty?" They were currently squashed behind a bush by the tennis courts, looking down at the courts through the holes made by the leaves in the shrubbery.
"No, you can only bet once, remember, Ryoma?"
"But… that was before I saw…" Tezuka. To the untrained eye, he probably looked the same as ever, but Ryoma could tell that he was plucking his strings a little more violently than normal, and his 'don't touch me' bubble had expanded at least five times the original size.
"Well, that's life, Ryoma."
"But…"
"Let's go now. Ryoma, you can go home and help Ryoga pack."
"Yes… pack…" He was still slightly daunted by the prospect of having to endure two hours and twenty six minutes of Heaven Almighty again. Again. Two hours, twenty-six minutes.
Somebody save him.
"See you tomorrow, Ryo-chan!"
Ryoma walked back home in a daze, still not quite accepting the fact that he was going to have to watch people killing themselves and a couple of others for a guy named Ryoma and someone else called Syuusuke.
Wow. Ryoga sure knew his choices.
Ryoga had left that night. With his watch and everything. Books.
Well this was just amazing. He had woken up in the morning expecting to have an overenthusiastic Ryoga bouncing him out of bed, but no. There was a note left for him though. He read it over again, guilt washing over him in waves. He didn't even get the chance to push him up that stupid tree. Though it was Ryoga's fault for not waking him up.
Hey, wassup Ryoma! I know when you read this I'll be gone, but tis okay!
I couldn't wake you up, so I decided to let you sleep (You sleepyhead...)
GOOD LUCK WITH FUJI-SAN! He's a real good catch. I think my next subject is in America. Boss just sent in the name and it sounds distinctly American. Dunno. Well, I guess we'll never see each other again… I kind of like this form though (you have a nice body *Wink*) so I'm just gonna keep it like this on other jobs.
So if you see anyone looking exactly like you, feel free to come up and say hi. Of course, I'll always look sixteen, so I guess… Meh.
You'll still recognize me, I'll promise…
Well, toodles!
Ryoga
Ah Ryoga. Just like him to be so chipper.
Not that he was going to… miss that chipperness or anything. Yeah right, like that was ever going to happen.
"Fuji! Echizen! Come over here!" Tezuka barked out to them the next day during morning practice.
"Yes, Tezuka? You called?" Fuji asked jovially, almost as if he didn't know that they were just about to face impending doom.
"Fuji, why were you not present during training yesterday?" Tezuka asked, in a voice that promised immense pain if not answered with a valid reason.
"There was training?" Fuji feigned surprise, "Oh my, I must have forgotten, apologies, Tezuka."
"One hundred laps."
Ryoma's stomach lurched. Oh Heaven Almighty. Why? Why was it always him?
"And you, Ryoma? I trust you have a satisfactory explanation?"
"Well… my brother, Ryoga was leaving for America yesterday night, so I helped him pack."
"You still should have informed me about it. Sixty laps."
Sixty? Did Tezuka just say sixty? Maybe there was hope after all.
"So Ryoma, I guess we were both wrong."
"No, we were both right, so we don't have to do the forfeits."
"Saa… I think we should do both forfeits."
"None." Giving up one game with Fuji was better than going through Heaven Almighty again. That was for sure.
"Both." Fuji's now open eyes glinted with unimaginable evil.
"Fine!" Ryoma sprinted ahead of Fuji, "WhatEVER you want."
Fuji caught up with him effortlessly, "So you don't want to?"
"Fuji-senpai, do I look like I want to watch Heaven Almighty again?"
"No. Oh, I get it now. So how about we watch something else? Like Sleepless in Seattle? I think they just dubbed it in Japanese. Should be interesting, ne?
Ryoma stopped running, defeated, "Heaven Almighty it is."
Fuji's smile widened.
Ryoma hated Fuji. Oh how he Loathed that hair, those eyes, that mouth, that nose, that neck, that—
"Oh Ryoma, isn't it nice? There're so many people!
"Yes. How sweet."
His game with Fuji had ended in downpour. Ryoma wanted to curse, to swear, to punch the living daylights out of everyone who wasn't just as frustrated and absolutely FURIOUS as him. Fuji, for instance.
"Thank god I pre-ordered the tickets, ne?"
"Yes. Thank you." Ryoma's voice cracked with the sheer effort of not lashing out.
"No no, Ryoma, I'm not god. I'm merely human, though I'm quite flattered that you—"
"Just let me go buy the popcorn."
He selected the popcorn that provided the largest tub, fisting handfuls of popcorn into his mouth. This wasn't going to end well. No it wasn't. But at least now he could at least sustain a semblance of sanity now that he had his popcorn tub. What did he do to deserve this? If makeshift love was supposed to be this harsh, he was never going to go through the real deal.
"Extra large again, Ryoma? It's not healthy, you know."
"This entire movie thing isn't healthy. I could get cancer from the radiation from the screens."
"I get your point."
"I wasn't trying to make a point."
"I still got it, we'd better hurry if we don't want our seats stolen, Ryo-chan."
"Ryoga isn't here, so don't call me that."
"But it sounds so cute! Just like Ryo-chan."
"To you, but some people don't like it."
"They have no taste then?" Fuji remarked offhandedly, leaning over and grabbing a palmful of popcorn.
The movie began. Time to shut his brain down. Now what a lovely beige colour the popcorn was. Now it was blue, illuminated by the screen. This bit of popcorn had barely popped out of its skin. Now it looked like a rose.
"Love."
This popcorn had caramel on one half of it, and it was quite round. Ryoma threw it into the air, catching it between his teeth and swallowing it.
Ryoma wondered if he could break un-popped popcorn kernels with his teeth.
CRACK.
He couldn't. And now his tooth hurt.
"Ryoma."
Grunt.
"Ryoma, wake up."
Fidget, groan.
"Ryo-chan, want a kiss?"
Smooch.
"WHAT THE HELL?"
"Do you?"
"Are you DAFT? I was asleep for christ's sake, you should have woken me up when the movie ended!"
"So it's okay if you're not asleep?"
"… you know, I'm pretty sure the ushers are going to chase us out."
"Let them, or do you want to get your head off my shoulder before they do?"
"OH! Sorry! I didn't know…"
"Hm," Fuji said conversationally, "you drool when you sleep."
"THAT WAS JUST WHAT I WANTED TO KNOW." Ryoma shot up, red faced and annoyed, stomping out of the cinema.
"Was it?" Fuji always caught up.
"Well, Syuu-chan, do you want a kiss while you're asleep?"
"… Sure, why not?"
Ryoma stopped walking.
"I hate you."
"They say hate and love are the same thing, Ryoma."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Did you just hear it from Heaven Almighty?"
"But do you love me?"
Think pink.
"Of course not."
"Then do you like me?"
"Sometimes."
"You know, like and love really aren't that much different."
"Well you fell short of love then." Ryoma pushed the half eaten popcorn into Fuji's arms, "There, yours, free. Now you can leave me alone. Ryoga isn't here, you don't have to pretend to date me anymore." Grabbing another handful of those devilishly delicious popped kernels, Ryoma pushed it into his mouth, other hand on his hip.
"Pretend?"
"Yes, it was to get Ryoga to stop annoying me, and now he's disappeared, gone to America, really this time, without even telling me, and I have no idea where's he gone, and now you can break up with me because honestly, I am sick and tired of watching Heaven Almighty. And I get this feeling I will have to watch it again if I continue this."
He grabbed another fist of popcorn, chomping on it with the air of a starving carnivore. Or perhaps a teenage girl eating ice cream out of the tub while watching chick flicks.
"So I can stop pretending then."
"Yes, If you don't mind, I have to go and practice tennis now, seeing as I skipped yesterday. Because of you, I might add."
"Well, if I stop pretending, you want to date me for real?"
"Of course I have to go, you think Tezuka's going to let me just not make up for… what did you say again?"
"Want to go out with me for real. Not an act."
"You want, to date me. For real."
"That's what I said Ryoma, wasn't that what you intended?"
"Intended for what? I thought I told you it was Ryoga?"
"Never mind." Fuji frowned. Had he misunderstood? But didn't…?
"Oh I intended to get Ryoga off my back. He was badgering me to date you. Says we were in 'love'. I have no idea where he gets those ideas from."
If the face turns pink…
Oh for the love of… there was no such thing as a pink-turning clock face love indicator.
There was no such thing as a cupid clone either. The subconscious he had never even known existed had reared its ugly, ugly head. Truly hideous.
"He said we were in, love." He held up his fingers and signed the inverted commas, expressing his cynical attitude towards this shallow emotion.
"He did?"
"Yes! It was getting a bit annoying, so yes, I tried, and I succeeded getting him away, and I guess it's worth celebrating, but he could have woken me up before he zipped off to god knows where."
He held his forehead in one hand. Never had such a foreign topic bugged him as much. Love, was just so dumb. Something teenage girls obsessed over while talking at sleepovers. Not for tennis prodigies.
"Isn't he your brother? Why doesn't he live with you?"
"Right… but he's a genius, graduated two years ago. I know what you're thinking, he doesn't seem like one, but supposedly all geniuses are weird and silly when you first meet them." It was quite a good excuse in Ryoma's opinion, that was, until Fuji had gone and backfired it.
"So why don't you listen to Ryoga's… genius advice, and see if we, can work out?"
"…"
"Hm?"
If there was something to Ryoga's pink clock face, then what was he supposed to think, that he actually… loved? Fuji? Preposterous… and at the same time… so…
Possible? Was it possible? He had no way of knowing until…
"One week, trial."
"You wound me, Ryoma, making me sound like a beauty product."
"Aren't you? If you would excuse me, I have tennis to get to. Goodbye."
"Well, I guess I'd better go and train as well. I still owe you a game after all… Street courts with me?"
"Whatever."
"It's a date then."
Ryoma took in a deep breath of fresh air, "I won't even attempt to answer that."
"You say that Ryoma, but you just did."
"Not bad, Ryoma. Good game."
"I just don't understand," Ryoma clenched his fists, "Why we can never manage to finish a complete game." With plaster dust on his face and clothes, he was quite a sight to behold. To say he was angry would have been a gross understatement as he swung his racquet at some very shocked pedestrians.
"Must be fate."
"Not fate, someone's just out to annoy me. Why can't I finish a game? Why? Is it really that hard, huh?"
"Ryoma, you have plenty more chances now that you're going out with me."
"Even Kirihara, Jiroh, managed to finish a game with you, and they aren't even in our school."
"That's kind of the point, Ryoma. It was a competition. Tournament."
"I'm just so… so mad, that I could kill something right now." With that, Ryoma raised his foot and squashed an ant under his sneakers.
"… Ryoma, we can always do it again, what's the rush?"
"What's the rush? Next year, you'll be off to college, and there is no way you will continue tennis professionally, am I right?"
"Well, I am still calculating. But most likely—"
"You see? How am I ever going to get a game in, at a fair level, when out of five times I've tried to play a game with you, all of them were FOILED."
"Relax, Ryoma, if it happens again, we'll just play again, and again, and again. Because I'll be with you forever, alright?"
"… that's just so Heaven Almighty, Fuji-senpai." Ryoma stalked forward, fighting a stubborn blush spreading across his face, which was thankfully hidden behind the white powder mask.
"I know. I learn from the best."
"Yeah, like watching stupid love movies."
"Some of them are actually nice," Fuji said in defense.
"No they aren't! And I want a tennis match. Soon."
"You know, it isn't like you to lose your cool like that."
Ryoma shook his shirt of the white powder covering it, engulfing himself in a cloud of white smoke. He flipped his hair, unsuccessfully ridding his black hair of the contrasting whiteness.
"It isn't like me to be covered in powder and going out with you and watching Heaven Almighty. Twice. But I'm still doing it aren't I?"
"If I didn't know any better, I would say that you have an alter ego split personality."
"Yep, and it's masochistic because of you. I think you rigged those games just to drive me insane."
"Ryoma, be reasonable, it won't cause you any psychological damage just not to have played a full game with me. Anything significant, that is."
"Once? Maybe. Five times? Definitely psycho."
"I'm glad you hold me in such high regard."
Ryoma ignored him, glaring daggers at some civilians who were staring at this powdery boy. "Construction. What construction. Nobody does construction on the street courts. That's why they're street courts. Wasting citizen's tax money…"
"Okay Ryoma, calm down."
"Calm down? Now that, has just got to be the funniest joke I have ever heard."
Fuji dropped his smile, frowning, "Ryoma, you're really starting to scare me."
"Scare you? Would anything scare you?"
"You. I'm just going to send you home."
"I can make it myself."
"You sure?" Fuji eyed the pale boy skeptically. His suspicion, was of course, perfectly reasonable. Anyone with half a brain could probably deduce that this boy was probably going to be the easiest target for real psychologically disturbed people.
"Yes. You can get me tomorrow for practice."
"Is that—"
"Yes, it's a date, happy?"
"Very."
They had their fifth kiss in the middle of the street, in broad daylight, one covered in white powder and the other hugging a pail of popcorn.
It was nice.
Could've been better.
IF you're confused with anything right now, feel free to get a hold of me and make me explain, because I should have explanations for everything, because I read it through, like 5 times? Ten? Dunno.
Yes, I know this chapter might be a bit too F1 speed, but… please? I will try to change it, after I get back home and away from my relatives who insist I am "too skinny" and try to gorge me on food. (for the record, my BMI is 20, far from 'too skinny', so they're not right to make me down 3 octopuses) It was an experience, I guess, but I bet none of you know how chewy octopi are. Not to mention how embarrassing it is to be chewing it in a high class restaurant that my (rich) uncle managed to get us in.
Now. There's probably going to be an epilogue… if it can be considered one. And I found this very nice Starbucks that has free wireless (!), so I'm going to make use of it before the personnel get wind of it and chase me out. Then i'll probably just pretend that I don't understand Chinese.
Hope you enjoyed this little story and took the risk of clicking it even though the summary probably deterred everyone. I got 32/45 for English summaries. So I'm… just plain bad at it.
THANK YOU! XIE XIE! GRACIAS! TERIMA KASIH! MERCI! DANK! ARIGATO!
Long author's notes probably annoy some people… sorry.
BYE!