Disclaimer: I do not own POT

Chapter 9: English Fire

The Seigaku teams returned to Forest Park to watch the next day's matches. Tezuka looked worse than yesterday, but mostly for lack of sleep. He could barely stay awake while watching Russia beat Canada.

Fuji shook his tired form, "Tezuka! Hey Tezuka!" Tezuka blinked. "Hnn?"

"You might want to watch the next match."

"Why?"

"It's England v. Portugal. England won the tournament last year."

"So they're good…"

Fuji nodded, "That's kind of what I was getting at. Were you sleeping with your eyes open?"

Tezuka adjusted his glasses, "Sorry. I didn't get much sleep last night."

"When have you ever gotten much sleep?" Fuji remarked. The teams entered the court and the first doubles pairs were announced. Portugal's Ramirez and Hernando-Vega pair was going against England's two Johns. John Fastolf and John Talbot. John Talbot was a thick muscular man with a calm expression similar to Munehiro Kabaji's of Hyotei, yet he seemed to be more intelligent and independent. John Fastolf was a smaller, wily man with a smirk on his face and long blond tied in a ponytail.

"Hmm," Inui observed the English pair, recognizing them. "They are the better English pair. Why are they positioned first?"

Talbot was to serve, and he hit a straight shooter across the net that Ramirez could barely get a grip on. As a result, it was lobed into the air and Talbot was given the opportunity for a smash.

"15-Love," the judge called.

Talbot served again but this time Hernando-Vega easily returned it to an open gap in between Talbot and Fastolf.

"15-All"

The two Johns met up with each other. "Let's not get carried away. We should end this now, " Talbot told his partner. Fastolf just arched an eyebrow, "Why not take the better part of valor. There's no fun in making haste."

Talbot and Fastolf got to their positions and served. Hernando-Vega shot a powerful shot across the court and Talbot barely managed to send it back across the court, the ball however went out.

"Out! 15-30."

Eventually, the two Johns lost the first game, and were down 0-30 in the second.

"Eh? Inui-sempai?" Kaidoh turned to his senior. "Isn't this pair the better of the English pair?"

Inui nodded, "They're supposed to be…"

Fuji discretely turned to his friend, "What do you think Tezuka? Do you see what I see?"

Tezuka nodded and after a pause he said shortly, "They're playing them."

"O-40," said the judge as Hernando-Vega scored another point.

"What?" Inui turned to Fuji and Tezuka.

"Saa, I know that look on Fastolf's face. He's not taking this seriously," Fuji remarked, gazing at Fastolf's smug smile.

The two English doubles players met once again. "Well, shall we take the better part of valor?" Fastolf said in a high aristocratic tone. Talbot nodded, "Indeed, let's show them what the Johns of England are truly made of."

The Portuguese and English doubles went into a volley. After Talbot hit the ball to Hernando-Vega, he created an opening, purposely, so he and his partner could switch sides on the court. Hernando-Vega saw the opening clearly and hit the ball in the direction aiming for the far corner, knowing that neither English player would make it in time…or so he thought.

"15-40," the judge announced.

"Whoa!" Momo shrieked in shock as John Fastolf came out of nowhere to score a point, "What the hell was that?"

"He…he…" Inui tried to form words. In truth he was not sure what happened. Fastolf was at one edge of the court in an attempt to switch sides with his partner, the next moment he was at the other edge's corner, safely returning the ball to score a point. Even Fuji tried to explain to himself what he saw.

Portugal got ready to serve, and then Fastolf started moving his feet in place before the serve, like he was doing some sort of dance.

"He's dancing?" Kaidoh muttered.

"It's a jig," Tezuka remarked. "The steps…of an Irish jig."

Fuji nodded, "In Irish dancing, the dancer moves his or her feet quickly while keeping his body perfectly straight and erect."

Inui put two and two together, "So, in all reality, this move combines the effects of the Split-step with the Shukuchi method that Higa schools were famous for."

Ryoma couldn't help but smile. This Fastolf's mixture of his culture in tennis with these Irish steps was truly ingenious. For Portugal, it was all downhill from there. They lost the lead. The knowledge that Fastolf could move anywhere in a split second distracted them and they did not realize that his movements were in sync with Talbot's. Talbot's power eventually got the best of them.

"Game! England. One game to zero."

Oishi and Eiji beamed at each other truly inspired by the two Johns. It was little wonder why they were considered to be the best double's pair in the world. Laughing, Fuji turned to Inui, "They almost made you doubt yourself there, Inui."

Inui responded with a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his head, "Yeah…well…"

The next doubles team proceeded to play, but nothing of particular note occurred, only that Portugal and England were neck and neck at one point until, ultimately, England pulled away with the win. Singles were up and England's Richard Beauchamp, a kind-faced man with dark brown hair and small goatee on his chin, facing against Portugal's Juan Valdez.

**

Maria pushed a button at the vending machine and heard her orange soda tumble out. She hadn't realized how much it was shaken nor did she realize how close a few Austrian players were when she opened it. Orange soda sprayed everywhere and onto one of the Austrian players' shorts. Swiftly, she apologized her heart out, but the players' face went beat red. His two teammates shouldered their rackets, expecting an outburst.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" the Austrian yelled.

"Look, I said I'm sorry," Maria was starting to loose her sincerity, yet she knew he had some right to be angry, but he didn't even acknowledge her apology. The Austrian's red face grew purple and he furiously knocked the rest of her soda out of her hand. Maria backed away. She couldn't take on three angry men at once.

"Fuck your apology!" he screamed and grabbed her by her shirt.

"Hey! Let her go!"

The angry Austrians turned, seeing a young blond woman approach them, appalled.

"Hey, that's that French player," one of Austria's players whispered to the other.

"This is none of your business," the player growled. Joan D'Arc pulled Maria away and put herself in between the Austrians and Maria, "Just leave her alone!"

The Austrian players were momentarily stunned, but the man who Maria spilt soda on lunged forward and grabbed Joan by the wrist wrenching her towards him, "You shut it, little French girl."

Joan's face was full of disgust towards these cowardly men, "Pig! You would find pleasure in torturing young girls?" She spat at his feet in disdain.

"You bitch!" he slapped D'Arc, hard, but still the tough French player stood her ground. Maria made a move to help Joan, but the Austrian wrenched her further away.

"I'll show you torture…" the man began but suddenly, Maria and Joan heard a loud THWACK! The man was sent sprawling on the ground, unconscious and on top of Joan. A tennis ball rolled over to the side. Maria looked forward and standing a distance behind the group of Austrian players was a longhaired, tall, handsome man in all black. He held his blood-red racket on his shoulder.

The two other Austrians turned to find who assaulted their teammate with a tennis ball. "What the hell?!"

The man answered in deadly low voice, "Do you three have no honor? You are a disgrace to your team and country."

"Pompous ass!" One player charged at him brandishing his racket. The dark man stepped quickly to the side and caught the player's arm. The Austrian dropped his racket as the towering man placed dangerous pressure on his elbow.

"Do you want to be able to play tennis again?" the man hissed as he applied more pressure, coming dangerously close to snapping the Austrian's elbow. Panicked, the Austrian choked in pain, "Alright! We'll go! We'll leave!"

Satisfied, the black-haired man let go of him and he and his teammate scrambled away. The towering player turned towards the two girls. Marie helped Joan roll the unconscious player off of her, but a shadow loomed over the two girls. They both looked up at the black figure eclipsing the light, not knowing whether to fear him or not. He bent over holding out a hand to the young female player, "Forgive them, they are still sore for losing against the United States. Are you alright?"

The man's voice was different from the low menacing voice he had earlier. It was soft, belying some sort of stoic sincerity. Joan was speechless for a moment as she took his hand. After he helped her to her feet, she thanked him gently, "Thank you, sir."

The man turned to Maria, "Are you fine as well?" Maria nodded, though truthfully she was still shaken. She directed her gratitude towards the French girl, "But thank you, Miss, for helping me." Joan smiled back, "Not a problem." The tall player's deep voice called, "Shall I walk you back, mademoiselle or will you both be fine on your own. Those players may come back for their teammate."

Such chivalry, Maria mused as the man bent down in a slight bow, still holding D'Arc's hand. Both girls were taken with this young man, and the proper way he presented himself that was rarely seen in modern Western society.

"You are…" Joan whispered, "You are the English captain, aren't you."

"Precisely," the Englishman nodded, "Edward Plantagenet. And you are Joan D'Arc, the female phenom from France."

"Yes, I am."

Plantagenet smiled, "Hopefully, we shall next meet on the court."

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure."

**

The Singles 2 match was up at this moment, with England's short and fiery Henry Percy. He was a sturdy young man with long, feathered-back, brown hair and he was facing the dashing Luiz Volquez. To no surprise, Henry Percy was winning at this point. Tezuka's usually hardened gaze was broken when Maria crossed in front of him and couldn't help as subconsciously his gaze followed after her. Fuji noticed his friend being sidetracked and smiled, draping an arm around Tezuka, relishing in making him uncomfortable.

"Tezuka-san, don't deny that this game is causing your libido to stir," Fuji whispered huskily in Tezuka's ear. Tezuka removed Fuji's arm from his shoulders.

"We've been through this Fuji. It wasn't going to work out. We had just passed puberty and my hormones went haywire. I was confused…" Tezuka trailed off as Fuji held up a hand.

"I wasn't talking about me. I was talking about that lovely young lady over there. You know, the one you were ogling at a moment ago." Fuji pointed to Maria Lucia, who was laughing with her friend Oishi. Tezuka grunted in disdain, "We are not involved, if that's what you were implying."

Fuji shrugged, "I wasn't implying, I was just suggesting. There is a difference."

Tezuka removed his glasses to rub his eyes vigorously, mumbling, "I am too tired to deal with this…"

Fuji relented knowing that his dear friend was not feeling his best. Fuji may be sadistic but he wasn't cruel. They both turned their attention back to the court in time to see one of Henry Percy's special shots.

Volquez returned a volley with a powerful shot that would numb an average player's hand. Percy used two hands to reduce the strain, and shot it back. The ball sped on the ground.

"What?!" Oishi yelled in shock, "Tsubame Gaeshi?"

"A pro player should be able to easily seal it," Fuji stated, but what they thought was the Tsubame Gaeshi move, sped around in a circle before rolling to the right across the court then out.

"Game set and match! England!"

Henry Percy and Luiz Volquez shook hands over the net, the Portuguese's heads hung in defeat but they looked reassured knowing that they played their best. As Tezuka observed the two teams shaking hands his vision became fuzzy and blurred. The players turned into monotonous, unidentifiable figures writhing on the court, only that the court was a pool of hot tar. Day instantly turned to darkness, and the mannequin-like bodies stretched and strained slowly against the heavy tar. He looked down finding the steaming hot tar crawling, bubbling on his skin, creeping up his torso, arms, and finally reaching his neck and jaw.

"Tezuka!"

He jerked to reality, Fuji's hand on his shoulder, eyes open in concern. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"I-I…what?" Tezuka felt sick to his stomach. Fuji took his arm, "C'mon, let's get you something to drink."

A/N: *Runs from angry Tezuka-Fuji pairing fans* I found that the Tezuka/Fuji pairing to be cliché, and I can't see Tezuka in any relationship with Fuji other than friendly. Sorry all. Talbot and Fastolf and Percy are actually historically based but their descriptions were taken from the Bladestorm game. The valor quotations are actually taken from the game as it kinda shows Fastolf's personality. The title is a song by Cradle of Filth. The song doesn't really have anything to do with this chapter, I just thought it was a relevant title. Again, for those who like this story, Review!!!Please!!!