A/N: Thank you all for your astounding support, your reviews, favourites, follows and PMs. Y'all are wonderful, especially for putting up with my slow updates. This is the last chapter in the buffer, which is why I was so reluctant to upload it. The next chapter is still being written... comedy is so hard to write D=

You Were Conceived Next to a Tortoise Enclosure

The Demon of the First-String Gymnasium

There was a rumour going around about a demon that lived in the first-string basketball gymnasium. Some said its shrieks could be heard echoing through the grounds long after school had ended; others that it feasted on the maiden flesh of virgin girls. One boy, a photographer from the school paper had made the mistake of seeking it out and inexplicably found himself waking up in the bushes, a pair of dirty underwear hooked around his neck. He claimed that he had no memory of the incident and it was said that the demon had cursed him for the rest of his life with unwashable skid marks.

For weeks, the school had been teeming with gossip about the demon. Students would challenge each other in tests of courage to see who could get closest to the gymnasium after practice, squealing in delight as they sped back to their group. It was all just harmless fun.

Only the first-string members of Teiko's basketball team knew the terrible truth.

"Where do you think it is?" said Nakadan, stretching his triceps.

"Who knows," said Kira. "It probably lurks in the shadows waiting to pick off its victims one by one."

Kira was a big fan of horror movies and Nakadan was a big fan of being gullible.

They had just been promoted to the first-string that morning and since the beginning of practise, they had been peering anxiously around the basketball court searching for any sign of the demon.

"Why does everyone seem so calm?" asked Nakadan, looking around at the unperturbed faces of the other members. Murasakibara was even sneaking potato chips from under his shirt.

"Maybe it has them under their spell," said Kira. "Like a curse. Or-or they're possessed. Or maybe they're host bodies for the demon-"

Two hands clapped their shoulders and they squeaked. Turning their heads round slowly, they looked up at the stern face of their captain.

"When I said you needed to stretch, that didn't mean stretch your mouths," said Nijimura. "So what's so interesting that you feel the need to disrespect your superior's orders?"

"Apologies, captain," said Nakadan. "It's just we were wondering where the demon of the first-string gymnasium was lurking and why no one seems to…"

Nakadan trailed off at the captain's unimpressed expression.

"This is getting ridiculous," Nijimura muttered under his breath. He turned to the manager of the first-string, who was sitting on the bench making notes. "Momoi-san, sorry to bother you, but can you take these two idiots to go see her?"

"Go see who?" Nakadan asked, legs trembling, already knowing the answer.

"Who else?" Nijimura thrust them forwards. "The demon of the first-string gymnasium."

Having been forced to watch her two older brothers go through puberty, Tsukino was no stranger to the disgusting habits of teenage boys. Hell, even she missed the odd shower… or five. But this was starting to take the piss.

"How many times," Tsukino grumbled to herself as she slammed the plunger into the clogged toilet, "do I have to tell those bastards not to overuse the toilet paper?"

Not two days into her punishment, and she had ended up purchasing a pair of black plastic overalls, goggles and a facemask to guard against the unknown myriad of filth she encountered on a daily basis in the changing rooms. And all out of her own pocket too.

"I clean it and they screw it all up again," she grumbled alongside the squelches of the plunger. "No more. They're all going to pay. Every single one of them. I'm going to teach them the meaning of respect!"

These were the words that Nakadan and Kira heard upon being led into the toilets by Momoi. Concealed by the stall, Tsukino's disembodied voice echoed throughout the room. The boys leapt into each other's trembling spaghetti arms. Sighing, Momoi stood to the side and watched the scenario play itself out.

"I'll start with that self-important Captain. I'll plunge his freakin' face off. Ordering me about like a dog. Polish the floors, wipe the windows, pick up those candy wrappers. Who eats in the middle of practice? Murasakibara. Freakin' Murasakibara. Dead. Dead. Dead. They're all DEAD!"

"Oh my god," Nakadan whispered, looking wildly around the room as he clung to his friend. "It's real."

Kira whimpered mutely. No amount of Exorcist re-runs could have prepared him for this.

"Come on you bastard, come out," was punctuated by a particularly loud squelch and then the sound of the toilet flushing. "YES!"

The stall door was pulled back. A being born of utter darkness stood before them, glassy eyes protruding from its sockets, a wide, white grin that covered the entire bottom half of its face leering out at them. At least that was how it seemed to the two boys clinging onto each other for dear life, too overwhelmed by their fear to notice that the darkness had a zip going up from its crotch, was wearing bright pink wellington boots, and wielding a plunger.

"What are you looking at?" came the muffled voice under the mask.

"IT'S GOING TO PLUNGE OUR FACES OFF!" Nakadan cried out, tripping over his own feet as he scuttled out of the toilets.

Kira remained behind, his mouth open in a silent scream. It was at this point, that Momoi decided to intervene.

"Ah Kame-chan, could you take off your hood please?" said Momoi, gently patting Kira's back. "This is Kira-san. He's a new member of the first-string."

"He thinks I'm a demon too, doesn't he?" Tsukino said in a bland voice, putting down the plunger and yanking her hood and mask off. "What am I? Some sort of circus attraction for you people?"

"O-Ooh," said Kira, regaining his voice as Tsukino lifted her goggles up. He sighed in relief, clutching his chest where his heart was still beating a mile a minute. "M-my apologies, we had no idea that you were just a normal guy. We thought-"

Momoi winced.

"Did you just call me a guy?" Kame asked, eyes terrifyingly wide.

Realising his mistake Kira waved his hands. "No, it was just hard to tell at first glance with all the- Of course you're a girl. I'm-I'm not wearing my glasses and the lighting in here is really bad-"

"Get him out of here, Momoi," Kame said, picking up the plunger, "Before I plunge the bastard's face off."

The whistle blew to signal the end of practise and all the sweaty young men made their way into the locker room. Meanwhile the demon of the first-string gymnasium shuffled onto the court and began collecting all of the stray equipment.

Normally, the grunt work was divided evenly between the whole club, but since the stipulations of Tsukino's punishment meant that she was at the mercy of the basketball team, Nijimura had decided to turn her into their bitch, although he preferred the term slave. Looked like he hadn't forgotten the time Tsukino had thrown a paint balloon at his head during the championships in his first year at Teiko. She had been aiming for Zinan, the small-forward back then, but perhaps she should not have yelled 'I REGRET NOTHING' as her father dragged her out of the stadium.

Locking up the equipment storeroom, Tsukino picked up her sweat mop, headed to the corner of the court and began the arduous task of cleaning the floors.

It wasn't really her sweat mop, she didn't own it, the school did, but she was quite fond of its sleek design and easy-removable microfiber pads that glided across the court like they were made of air. It was nothing like the locker room's mop, which had obtained an indelible patina of unknown substance smelling strongly like the inside of someone's rotten intestines. She had put in an order request for a new one a few days ago, but she imagined Nijimura had probably used it as toilet paper out of spite.

Prank Idea #32: Hide toilet paper. Replace with their towels.

Giving the gymnasium a once over when she was finished polishing the floor, she let out a contented sound. Quickly checking to see no one had heard said sound, she went over to the cleaning cupboard and placed the mop carefully inside, along with the wellington boots Momoi had lent her, and hung the mask and her overalls on the hook behind the door.

A crash sounded behind her.

Spinning round, Tsukino saw two club members, still in their towels, entangled in the middle of the court, one of them trying to rub soap into the other's face.

Her mouth fell open in horror as the soap stripped away the polish of her previously clean floor, as the suds built up, as all her work went to waste. Some of their teammates had run out to watch the fight, some still wearing their basketball gear, tracking water and dirt everywhere. Tsukino saw red.

Without thinking, she unscrewed the mop handle and strode over to them.

Haizaki had a younger boy in a chokehold and was grinding a bar of soap against his mouth trying to force it open.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth, eh you weasel?" said Haizaki. "Disrespectful underclassmen should know their damn place."

Nijimura ran out then, having taken the time to put on his boxers.

"Haizaki, just what the hell do you think you're doing?" he shouted.

"Ahah, sorry Captain, I just gotta wash this guy's mouth-OW!"

Haizaki scrambled backwards clutching his head. Looking up, he saw Tsukino Kame, a mop handle gripped in both hands, an expression of fury on her face. Before he could express his confusion, she started beating him with it.

Eventually Kuroko, who had taken his sweet time finishing up his shower and putting his uniform back on, appeared between Tsukino and Haizaki. After a few short words, he managed to get her to drop the mop handle and dragged her out into the fresh air.

Handing her his water bottle, Kuroko sat down on the bench next to her and waited for her to calm down.

"He ruined my floor," she said, rubbing her mouth with the back of her sleeve before taking another sip.

"Kame-san, you realise you sound insane," said Kuroko.

"But I worked really hard," said Tsukino, slumping, a weak expression on her face. "I used the new polish..."

The realisation of what she had just done was starting to sink in. Not to protect her family honour, or ensure the virtue of a nerdy cosplayer; she had just beaten someone with a mop handle over a dirty floor. That was excessive even by her standards.

"Aren't you a little too old to be throwing a tantrum, Kame-san," said Kuroko, making her cheeks flare red. "Anyway, we should probably go before Haizaki-kun recovers. I don't think it matters to him that you're a girl."

"I don't think it matters to anyone that I'm a girl," grumbled Tsukino.

Some of the members of the basketball club were filtering out now, casting weary glances at the demon of the first-string gymnasium as they went past.

"I see. Someone mistook you for a boy again," said Kuroko.

"You can at least pretend to be surprised."

"It shouldn't matter to you what other people think," said Kuroko, understanding that for Tsukino, who had spent her entire life in her brothers' shadows, that was a herculean task. "What matters is how you see yourself and if that self is someone to be proud of."

She was quiet for a while, staring at her lap.

"Kame-san?"

"I left all my stuff in the locker room," she said, passing his water bottle back to him. "You're going to have to go back and get it."

"Okay. If Haizaki-kun comes out, hide in the bushes," said Kuroko, and then he disappeared.

Tsukino lay down on the bench, fully prepared to accept Haizaki's wrath. It was a bad sign when you were feeling guilty about beating up Haizaki. At least when she'd hooked the underwear around that idiot photographer's neck and dragged him into the bushes, she had been doing so in the pursuit of justice. Justice for taking unflattering pictures of her and then refusing to give her the film, and also justice for having to listen to Midorima's step-by-step instructions on how to wash his lucky underwear.

Was she really this petty?

She blamed it on the lack of sleep. The combination of detention and her late night activities meant that she was getting home around midnight every day, and the physical exertion of both responsibilities was clearly taking a heavy toll on her body. She would have to ask Mareo for a few days off to recuperate, otherwise the demon of the first-string gymnasium really was going to go on a rampage. Taking out her phone, she shot him a text about how she wasn't going to make it tonight and flipped it shut again.

Something landed heavily on her stomach. Opening her eyes, she saw it was her bag and sweater. Aomine towered over her, hair still damp from the shower, smelling strongly of the pine-scented soap he used. She had become overly familiar with the smells of the first-string members, bad and good. Aomine was surprisingly one of the good ones, but she suspected that was Satsuki's influence.

"Tetsu got called aside by Akashi to discuss stuff," said Aomine. "He said to go ahead without him."

"Ah, thanks," said Tsukino, tugging on her jumper that was two sizes too big and used to belong to Zinan. That was one bad smell she was never going to get rid of.

"Heard you beat Haizaki with a stick," said Aomine, quirking an eyebrow.

"It was a mop handle actually."

"What did he do?"

"Murdered my first-born child."

"Ah."

They headed towards the gates together, Aomine watching her from the corner of his eye, Tsukino lost in thought. Expecting to part ways at the intersection, she raised a hand in farewell, only to find that he was not crossing the road as he usually did.

"Stalking is a criminal offence," said Tsukino as he walked along beside her.

"As if anyone would wanna stalk you," said Aomine. "Satsuki said you're not acting like yourself today. Told me to walk you home."

Except Aomine knew that Tsukino's strange behaviour had been going on longer than just today. Ever since she'd started coming to practice, he had noticed the darkening under her eyes, the constant yawning, the mood swings. One time he had caught her with her head in her locker, completely dead to the world. Of course, he had immediately picked her up and stuffed her inside, all without her waking up. She had yet to figure out that he was the culprit. At least he hoped she hadn't.

Aomine knew Tsukino Kame was far from a model student, her reputation as a troublemaker was legendary, but in all the time that Aomine had known her she had never seemed this stressed out.

Maybe it was the shifting of the status quo that was bugging him or the fact that a stressed out Tsukino was far more dangerous than a happy one, but either way he didn't like it.

"Yeah, I won't hear the end of it from Satsuki if I don't walk you home," Aomine muttered.

"And here I was just thinking that Aomine-sama was finally returning my feelings," said Tsukino.

"A-Cups aren't allowed to confess to me."

Prank Idea #33: Cut out all the boobs in Aomine's gravure magazines.

"I give you permission to take your leave of me, Aomine-sama," said Tsukino, flourishing her arm as she bowed. "I shall tell Momoi that you fulfilled your duty like a true gentleman. That you even gave me your cardigan when you caught me shivering in the cool night air. And finally, when we got to my doorstep you whispered the words every little girl wants to hear from her prince charming: 'Hey baby, I got a huge co-'"

Without much effort, Aomine pulled her jumper over her head and tied the sleeves with her arms still inside around her neck so that she looked like she was the victim of a bizarre straitjacket. Then gripping her shoulders, he pulled her onto the floor where he left her flailing like an upturned tortoise.

As she kicked her legs in the air, her skirt rode up on her thigh and Aomine shook his head. Of course, Tsukino would wear shorts underneath, he thought as he walked away.

When she finally got free and caught up, she refused to speak to him, her face red with fury.

Prank Idea #34: Switch out Aomine's sports drink for sawdust.

Prank Idea #35: Put chilli powder on Aomine's towel.

Prank Idea #36: KILL AOMINE'S CRAYFISH.

If Aomine was disturbed by the creepy grin that had appeared on her face, he didn't comment on it.

A week later and Teiko was rife with rumours of a new development. The demon was in fact the spirit of a cross-dressing basketball player who had died in the locker rooms after being beaten to death by a bigoted janitor. Now the spirit walked the halls plunging the faces off all those who dared to look upon its mutilated form.

Sitting at a table in the cafeteria, Tsukino stared at nothing in particular while the rumour mill spun, surrounding her with the hum of former victims, cursed pink wellington boots, and surrogate basketballs breasts. That would throw all the proportions out of whack, was all she could think as she nudged a piece of shrimp with her chopsticks. Socks worked much better. She knew this from experience.

Sweet Buro had been waking up extra early to make her a bento, mostly because Tsukino had told him if he didn't she would take the lock off of the downstairs toilet. Still, she couldn't muster up an appetite, despite how sore and exhausted she was from the previous night. Perhaps it was the continued speculation about her sexuality that was getting her down, but as she glanced at the black and green phone sitting on the table next to the bento, she knew it was something else.

Since her request for a night off after the Haizaki incident, Mareo hadn't contacted her or answered any of her calls. Neither had anyone else in the group. She could only presume that she had offended him, which weighed more heavily on her conscience than she would have liked.

"I wonder what would happen if you stood up on this table right now and announced to the student body that you are the demon of the first-string gymnasium," said Sakata Riyeko, placing her tray next to Tsukino and sitting down. "A murmur of 'that makes sense' perhaps."

Tsukino sighed loudly and continued to move the shrimp around with her chopsticks.

"Did you happen to see the Swim Club's newsletter I sent out this morning?" asked Sakata, watching her play with her food. "It has a special on dietary advice. It is based on the shocking revelation that humans need to eat to survive."

Tsukino glanced up from her shrimp at her new best friend. "Your subtlety never fails to amaze me."

"Thank you," said Sakata, splitting her chopsticks and rubbing them together. "I apologise in advance for what I'm about to do."

"Huh?"

Without warning, Sakata stabbed her chopsticks into the shrimp and stuffed it forcibly into Tsukino's mouth.

"MMPH!"

Before Tsukino could recover, Sakata proceeded to shovel the rest of the bento down her throat, going so far as to pinch Tsukino's nose when she tried to resist.

"You need to eat to keep up your strength if you're going to become a first-rate swimmer, Tsukino-san."

Five minutes later the bento was empty and Tsukino's head lay on the table, bits of rice and food stuck to her cheeks, feeling utterly violated.

"Excuse me, may I join you?"

Sakata recoiled, raising her chopsticks into the air as she looked around for the source of the noise. Her eyes widened when they landed on the pale apparition standing just inches away from her face. Tsukino grabbed her wrist before she could do something dangerous, like feed Kuroko to death.

"Sakata, this is Kuroko Tetsuya," said Tsukino.

Kuroko nodded, taking a seat opposite them. "We've met previously."

Sakata's grip loosened round the chopsticks. "We have?"

"You're on the library committee."

"Yes. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you also."

An awkward silence fell as they stared at each other. Tsukino realised that they were sizing each other up, the way fighters do before a match, the new and the old best friend. She had to admit this stroked her ego a little bit.

"Tsukino-san is a massive brat."

"I agree."

Tsukino dropped her head back on the table. "Between you two I'm going to develop a complex."

"Would that be in addition to your height, breast, and middle child complex?" asked Sakata.

"Bastard. You're really testing my patience," said Tsukino, chin jutting out in a poor attempt to appear menacing. "If I wasn't so tired from running laps I would kick your ass right here."

"Why were you running laps?"

"A spirit was chasing me-"

"Nijimura-senpai caught her trying to put chilli powder on Aomine-kun's towel," Kuroko explained before Tsukino could complete her spin on events.

"He peaked under my skirt!"

"Your tall-tales are becoming more and more ridiculous. Aomine-kun isn't a masochist."

Lifting her head, Tsukino shot him a dirty look. "You're accusing me of tall-tales when there are people around us who think I'm a demon. No, better, they think I'm a cross-dressing demon who plunges the faces off of bigoted basketball players."

"When you put it that way, Kame-san, you sound like a cool super-hero."

"You're not funny, Tetsuya."

"I thought it was funny," said Sakata, face devoid of expression. "Hah hah hah."

"Thank you."

Muttering curses under her breath, Tsukino chucked her bento into her bag, informed them she was heading back to class to take a nap, and slipped out of the cafeteria. Really, she just wanted to use the free time to try and call Mareo again without having to suffer Kuroko's judgement.

Walking towards her classroom, she tried his number, but after a few rings, it went to voicemail. Ignoring her after all then, she thought, pocketing her phone. It couldn't be helped. After practice, she would have to go there in person and see if she could plead for forgiveness. The very thought made her skin crawl.

There was the sound of a shutter going off and Tsukino spun towards the noise on instinct. In the distance, standing unapologetically in the centre of the corridor, was him.

"What?" she yelled, shaking her fist at him. "Didn't get enough of Midorima's skid marks the first time?"

The photographer took one last photo of her stomping angrily towards him, and then made a mad dash for it.

"Troublesome bastard," Tsukino muttered under her breath before giving chase.

As she rounded the corner, she collided with what felt like a wall and fell sprawling to the ground.

"Ah… it's Skino-chin," the wall drawled lazily as it munched on a chocolate bar. Murasakibara reached out his free hand and pulled her effortlessly to her feet. "Huh? Something on my face?"

Tsukino had been eying Murasakibara with a look of bitter envy from the moment she recognised him.

"Skino-chin?" asked Murasakibara, tilting his head to the side as he observed her expression. "Did you hit your head when you fell? Ah, maybe you should see a nurse?"

Remembering why she had been running in the first place, she put aside for now the mental cursing of his generational line, and returned to scanning the corridor.

"Murasakibara, did you see which way some four-eyes with a camera just went?" she asked the giant. "He came through just before I did."

There was a long pause while Murasakibara processed her question. Then he shook his head. "Sorry."

She clawed her face in frustration. "Damn it!"

"Want me to help you look?"

Tsukino looked up at him between her fingers. "Hah?"

"For cleaning up my wrappers," said Murasakibara, voice muffled as he took another bite of his chocolate. "Aka-chin scolds me when I leave them lying around, especially since I'm not meant to be eating during practice."

"A-ah."

Tsukino wasn't about to tell him that she had in fact been collecting all of the wrappers so that she could stuff them into his locker at a later date.

"So then I'll help?"

"Uh, sure."

"Yaaaay," he cheered in a bland voice.

His apathetic demeanour was starting to make her wonder if her usual style of pranking would have even affected him.

Prank Idea #42: Lace Murasakibara's sweets supply with laxatives.

"So this guy is a member of the school paper I think," said Tsukino, pointing down at the end of the corridor where the hallway forked. "We'll split up. You go left. I'll go right. Brown spiky hair, glasses, a camera and about this tall-" She lifted her hand slightly above her head. "-If you find him, bring him back here at the end of lunch. Got it?"

Murasakibara nodded and started trudging along at a snail's pace. Well it was better than no help at all, she supposed, running ahead of him, wincing at the pain in her legs.

Tsukino spent the rest of lunch searching for the bastard, but with no luck. The newspaper and photography clubrooms were both empty and there was nothing in there to give her a hint as to who he was or which classroom he was in. She'd tried asking a few people if they'd seen the demon's underwear victim, but it seemed his legend had surpassed him and people were even starting to claim he had died of fright. Five minutes before the end of lunch, she gave up and headed back to class.

As she turned into the corridor where she was supposed to meet Murasakibara, she was surprised to find that he had actually shown up, and that he wasn't alone.

"Uh… Murasakibara, who do you have there?" asked Tsukino, peering round his shoulder.

"I found Megane-san." Murasakibara prodded the boy cowering in his shadow, urging him forwards. "See."

Brown spiky hair, glasses, a camera and slightly taller than her. Tsukino scratched her head.

"I commend the effort, but he's not our guy."

"W-w-w-w-what's going on?"

"Oops. My bad," Murasakibara said to the boy, brushing the imaginary dust off his back. "Got the wrong one. Here, have a lollypop."

"S-s-s-so I can go?" asked the boy, clutching the lollypop in trembling fingers.

"Yes… Actually wait!" Tsukino hooked him round the elbow before he could leave, glaring sharply at the camera around his neck. "You're in the photography club?"

"Y-y-y-y-y-yes," said the boy, shrinking so far into himself that she thought he was going to melt into a puddle on the floor.

"The photographer, the one who got attacked by the demon of the first-string gymnasium, do you know who he is?"

"Eh, but isn't Skino-chin the demon-"

"Not now, Murasakibara!" she hissed, eye twitching as she held the boy up in her iron grip. At this point, she was the only thing keeping him from collapsing. A sinister grin stretched her face. "Give me a name and a class and we'll forget this ever happened."

"Hitoshi!" cried the boy, bursting into tears. "Tayama Hitoshi! Class 2-B! Please don't kill me. I have a pet goldfish and my mum never feeds it. It would die without me."

Tsukino released him. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted away, his cries echoing in the distance.

"That was fun," said Murasakibara, sucking on the lollypop he had stolen back while the boy had been distracted by his fast shrinking bladder.

The bell rang marking the end of lunch and the hallway started to fill up as people returned to their classrooms. Reaching into her bag, Tsukino took out the chocolate bar that she had been saving for later. No one could say she didn't repay her debts. Well everyone could. She was actually pretty shit at returning favours, which was probably why Kuroko never lent her money anymore. But she had to admit, despite his height and tendency to leave all the candy-wrappers on the floor, Murasakibara wasn't such a bad guy. Plus, she was pretty sure it was out of date. She held the stale chocolate bar up to him.

"For your-" It was out of her hands before she could complete her sentence. "-Troubles."

"Thaaanks."

The two of them headed towards their respective classrooms together. When they reached Murasakibara's, he laid his hand down heavily on her head and stopped her from leaving. She was about to swing round and ask him just who the hell he thought he was when he spoke.

"After school, I'll help Skino-chin find Tayama."

A few minutes later, Tsukino entered the classroom with a strange look on her face. Midorima raised an eyebrow as she walked past his desk and sat down. Sakata also noticed and immediately reached into her bag for the spray bottle she had started keeping on her persons to discipline Tsukino. Aomine, who was snoring at his desk, jerked in his sleep, mumbling something about crayfish.

"Sakata," Tsukino said in a dazed voice.

"Yes, Tsukino-san?" asked Sakata, extending her arm and aiming the spray bottle at the nape of Tsukino's neck.

"Tall people. I may have misjudged them."

"Your one-sided, mindless prejudice is at an end then?"

"Who knows…" said Tsukino. Her eyes narrowed and she kicked Midorima's chair. "I can see you eavesdropping, Shintarou."

"It's not eavesdropping if you speak at the volume of a bullhorn, Tsukino," said Midorima, throwing a glare over his shoulder.

"WHAT WAS THAT, SHINTAROU? I COULDN'T HEAR YOU!"

SQUIRT

"Sakata! You bastard! I'm not a cat!"

SQUIRT

"Save that incredible lung capacity for the swimming pool."

Author's Note:

I am oddly proud of this chapter, as it seriously deviates from the original story that I had written and also bred several new comedic scenarios. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for being so patient with me. Always looking for/open to feedback, especially about the humour, the realism of the characters and the plot, so please let me know in a PM if you'd like to discuss, as I am back on schedule for review/PM replying. Murasakibara was a PAIN to write, because I try not to use the ~ symbol, which would make it a thousand times easier, honestly.

The Haizaki and Sakata moments were probably my favourite. I could barely stop laughing as I wrote them, so please let me know if they landed properly. In my head they're both very abrupt and shocking.

Kudos to anyone who can anticipate what happens next xD Next chapter is thought out, but not written since I've hit a wall, which was what had made me reluctant to update this one, but it's been too long to go without an update.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!