Disclaimer: THEY own me. Not the other way around. I don't think my muses are actually mine either.
Warnings: Shonen-ai (FujiRyo, OishiKiku, InuKai, subtle hints at AtoTezu), kind of OOC Tomoka (or how about OOCness for one and for all?), not very Sakuno friendly, original character hate, nameless multitude of fictional fangirls... did I get them all? Probably not :P
Author's Note: Augh. Trying to write this without fully organizing my thoughts was pure unadulterated hell. Rarely does life's insecurities strike, but this time it did, and it struck hard. The muses refused to cooperate, and school just decided to kick up its annoying self to a more prominent level in my life. But to avoid too much gratuitous bitching, let's cut the extent of my excuses to right here. So, for whatever else I'm to be blamed for, like for being such an unfaithful updater and et al, I apologize. This part has taken way too bloody long to write, and seeing how my folder of unfinished fics never seems to completely empty (instead it continues to breed and spawn), let's just say that there will be one more part, two at most, and then I'll be calling the quits?
I'd like to thank all the faithful readers and reviewers who have waited patiently for this installment. Although I still believe that my style still leaves much to be desired (what with the way I unsubtly injected more pairing fodder into the plot), this one's for you guys. :D
And as another parting note—fangirls are still damn hard to write...
Edit: Noticed a bunch of inconsistencies with name-usage that while won't be fixed in this fanfic, will hopefully be corrected in future pieces. Word visuals fixed, grammatical errors are mostly accounted for, and as for plot fluency... well, the question is if you can still see a plot in here.
Intrigue Part 3 - Rehearsing
by kasugai gummie
The scurrying sounds immediately drew a pair of sharp blue eyes to gaze thoughtfully after the retreating backs of three skirt-clad figures.
Fuji snorted softly. Seishun High liked to pride itself in having the best of many things: students (prodigies in particular), curriculum, programs, facilities... and now here was persistent infatuation also at its best.
They weren't that far from the library now, the fair-haired prodigy noted as he ambled alongside his teammates. Ryoma and Momoshirou were probably still tutoring and being tutored. It was cute really, for his boyfriend to offer his expertise to his senpai. And Fuji made sure that the task of teaching Momoshirou was enough of a challenge for the young tennis genius.
Belatedly, he wondered if Momo had yet related his advice regarding certain gaijin pronunciations to the young library assistant.
He huffed, a decidedly wicked smirk hovering around the corners of his mouth. He had really wanted to see his boyfriend's reaction.
Oh well. Maybe next time.
"Seventeen."
Fuji turned to the much taller Inui, another vague close-eyed gaze replacing the telling signs of his private musings. "Hmm?"
The thick opaque lenses glinted in the afternoon sun. "There have been seventeen female adolescents following us as of so far." Seeing an interested expression creep onto the prodigy's face, Inui elaborated. "Five near the courts, two by the locker rooms, one behind the courtyard bench, and six who hurried away after we passed the southern entrance," he recounted while ticking off each sighting on one hand. "I'd say that there is an eighty-nine percent chance that the entrance was a rendezvous point."
"Good. Are you having fun, Inui?"
Inui grinned wolfishly, slanting a disturbingly amused gaze to one particular slouching kouhai. "Maybe."
"Oh?" Fuji then turned a benevolent grin to a decidedly pessimistic Kaidoh who was unconsciously following Inui in an almost placid manner. The forever-present grin widened. If sympathy held any meaning to him, which unfortunately for Kaidoh it didn't, he'd feel very sorry for the younger boy. But nevertheless, he was sure that Inui would be gentle with his... approach.
Or at least he felt confident that his data-driven friend's methods wouldn't be PHYSICALLY scarring. Inui still had his work cut out for him anyway.
Meanwhile, Kaidoh shifted uncomfortably under the double scrutiny. "What are you all staring at, senpai-tachi?" he muttered, nervous.
Fuji offered a bright smile with an innocent tilt of the head as the bandanna-wearing boy hissed ominously.
Hmm...
Fuji then transferred his awareness to where the happy-go-lucky half of the Golden Pair was hollering at the top of his lungs. It occurred to him to wonder just how many times his hyperactive best friend had actually been within the repressive confines of a building where silence was considered golden, but that thought didn't bother to fester itself in his sharp mind. He was sure that if the acrobatic redhead were to freely succumb to boredom, Oishi would make sure that nothing TOO drastic would occur.
Generally speaking, Fuji normally avoided making lasting damages to innocent bystanders. However, for the web he had woven for the sake of free entertainment, as well as staking out what was his, Fuji Syuusuke had other things to see through to first, things that needed to be done in anticipation for the rest to come.
Just ahead, Eiji bounded the last few yards and up the steps to the large oaken structures of the library doors and beamed with manic glee at his slower teammates. Truth be told, Kikumaru Eiji rather liked enjoying life to its fullest. Thus he could not understand as to why the team-baby acted as a library representative year after year. What good was a world of shy and depressed people? As far as Eiji was concerned, sacrificing order and calm for a little excitement was justifiable. He bounced.
"Hoi hoi! Let's haul Momo and Ochibi out of there!"
Sakuno wandered intrepidly throughout the semi-abandoned hallway towards where she hoped her best friend could be found.
Peering timidly into an abandoned classroom, she sighed and continued down the hall. Already sixteen and still not any more closer to her object of affection, how sad was that? Absently playing with the tips of her trademark braids, the brunette turned a corner towards the corridor of lecturing halls and conference rooms.
It wasn't fair, she decided mournfully. As much as she loved Tomoka like a sister she never had, she couldn't quite understand how she, first saved by and first to greet Echizen Ryoma in Japan by giving him wrong directions, was obscured into shadows by her best friend's fan club of five hundred and sixty something strong! It wasn't fair; she even continued into the girl's tennis team for him!
One could probably say that Ryuzaki Sakuno was a very (quietly) frustrated girl.
In fact, she was just about to become even more frustrated. Totally engrossed in her own thoughts and not expecting to become another victim of chancy fate, Sakuno failed to take note of the frantic footsteps barreling towards her... Until, of course, she was flung aside as the stampede of feet ran past her and a storm of dust billowed out in front of her bewildered eyes.
"E-eh...?"
WHAT was THAT? Sakuno bit her lip and felt the telltale signs of prickling in the back of her eyes. Why was high school so complicated! And why were people so rude? And inconsiderate? And—!
She didn't get to finish her mental tirade. Braids went flying as the sulking brunette was once again run under by a fresh wave of hurrying teenage girls.
From her disheveled and dust-choked position on the ground, Sakuno stared after the racing forms of three upperclassmen. Dismay was writ large all over her face as she caught the faint but panicked cries of the racing students. Not even a glance back! No apologies made! Nothing!
A dying whimper made its standard circulation after the hallway was cleared again.
"So mean..."
Ryuzaki Sakuno was a very frustrated girl.
If there was anything of good quality that his perverted excuse of a father had ever imparted to him, it was the supposed words of wisdom, "beware the quiet ones." And, ironically, it was the one piece of advice his father came up with that Ryoma ever conceded to. Wasn't he himself a living example? Granted, compared to certain stoic faced captains who were on more-than-good terms with certain larger-than-life divas, Ryoma wasn't as big of a threat... but said captain was currently in Germany learning how to pour good beer and driving around in a Mercedes Benz.
That left him to his own devices.
But Ryoma wasn't stupid—far from it.
The hailed tennis genius quirked his lips as he let stray locks of inky hair obscure his eyes, pointedly (ignoring) unaware of the puzzled look Momoshirou directed his way.
More oft than not, his dry and apathetic mannerisms threw others off kilter from whatever misconceptions they were likely to make of him. He knew what went around him, whether he let on or not. Besides, surprising those who presumed to know more than him because their egos were too blown up for anything else was a well-indulged pleasure of his. The cat and mouse game was a specialty he particularly liked to indulge in. With his patent of lulling his opponents on the courts into a false sense of superiority, it was incredibly satisfying to watch the other's reaction before turning around and grinding them into bloody palpating messes.
He still recalled when he had once lived and breathed tennis; when his single-minded drive for the game and the ultimate goal of beating his father granted him the means to play the game the way he played it best.
Recently however, he'd also acquire a more sophisticated flair to his game. Now he played with a contradiction of mind-numbing deceit and almost painfully brutal directness. Obliviousness had its moments, but being aware and able to explicitly break the opponent was also enjoyable, and thus was he very rarely bested.
An annoyed cast settled into Ryoma's otherwise bland expression.
The only problems against his methodology were probably the obstacles. When he was still carving out a reputation in America, he'd either broken down those barriers, or found some ways to avoid them. However, all those long-standing tactics changed the moment he joined his junior high's tennis team.
Since bursting into Seishun Gakuen Junior High, Ryoma discovered that some obstacles were just not to be dealt with in such (meaning his previous) manners. Rather, instead of breaking them or avoiding them, the young genius found that inviting their influence into his life proved all the more beneficial... some even more so than others.
Tezuka-buchou, his baka oyaji, Rikkaidai's Sanada Geniichirou, the Monkey King (he was feeling generous)... and Fuji.
An annoyed crease furrowed his brow.
Fuji was always a challenge.
It was to his sadistic boyfriend that he attributed his newly heightened interest in the game. It was to his Fuji that he wanted to tell his perverted father that the original, "beware the quiet ones," would be far more accurate if revised to, "beware the smiling ones."
It was the appearance of the fair-haired tensai into his life that awoke in Ryoma a side he had already acknowledged, but hardly paid the attention to. His neglected inner sadist, Fuji once called it as jokingly. And through that awakening also developed the crux of their relationship: Mutual respect, a strange sort of camaraderie... and the mother of all things to base a long-term relationship on (note the dripping sarcasm here)—competition.
"—ounced as 'riet' or 'liet'?"
Ryoma twitched, blinking owlishly at a... snarking Momoshirou? Yes, his senpai was most definitely snarking at him. Carefully shifting back to a casual slouch, boy wonder muttered ominously, "Momo-senpai is going to fail his next test if he doesn't stop braying like a donkey."
The violet-eyed second year exclaimed indignantly—only to be shushed at by those around them. Flushing embarrassedly, he sulked. "First a horse, and now a donkey." He cast a wry glance at Ryoma. "You really have no respect, do you?"
Non-committal shrug.
The older boy let out a long-suffering sigh. "I was asking if this should be pronounced with the tip of my tongue or by rolling it like normal?"
Ryoma rolled his eyes. Library rep and prized English student or no, he was near to just taking a magic marker and writing "HOPELESS" (in bold black katakana) on his senpai's forehead.
All of the sudden, a commotion startled him from his irritable reverie and almost-there disparagement.
"Eiji-senpai!"
Ryoma stared in wordless confusion at Momoshirou's stage-whispered greeting, twisting in his chair to get a better view at the approaching figures. The addressed third year grinned cheekily at the annoyed glares shot towards the tutor, pupil, and tennis Regulars gathering.
"Ochibiii!" Without ceremony, Eiji latched himself onto the resigned library representative. "We've come to save Ochibi from the evil clutches of all the boring dusty books!" Almost as an after thought, "And Momo too."
Momoshirou looked affronted? "Hey! What do you mean by that, 'And Momo too?' Huh, Eiji-senpai?" the spiky-haired second year sniffed comically. "What am I now? A leftover kid's meal?"
Fuji held back, smiling innocently at the rapidly deteriorating situation. Judging from Oishi's general expression of horrification, and Inui's sudden disappearance, the prodigy had a good solid feeling that their welcome to the library in groups composed of numbers larger than one would be forever limited from here on. Passing an encouraging glance to Kaidoh who looked extremely out of his element, he walked over to where the younger boy had developed a frantic look of entrapment and firmly removed Eiji's over enthused grip from his boyfriend's neck.
Now was the perfect time for an impromptu dress rehearsal.
"Really now Ryoma," Fuji brushed slender fingers over high cheekbones. "Shouldn't a tutor be more dedicated to the imparting of knowledge to his pupils?"
Momoshirou watched the on goings with no little amusement, previous grumbling about being chopped liver set aside in favor of watching his senpai actually work on the obstinate Echizen.
"There's not much I can do to help him when others are teaching him the wrong material," Ryoma snapped, batting at the persistent fingers with a meaningful glare.
Just then, Inui returned, calmly ignoring how Fuji was slowly pinning Ryoma between chair and table. Taking rare pity on Oishi's already frayed nerves, and the fact that the unraveling situation would do no further good to their worrying vice-captain, he voiced a suggestion to interrupt the team's prodigies.
"There are still some details needed to be taken care of, Fuji."
A slight twitch of the mouth was the only indication of the busy prodigy's disappointment before blue eyes flashed open, predatory and dangerous.
"Why don't we stop bothering the librarians and go to a study room?"
Ever willing to escape any more public humiliation and threats of possible chaos, Oishi said nothing as he turned on his heel and sped towards the back of the building with Eiji noisily in tow. Inui raised an eyebrow at an unrepentant Fuji before he too led Kaidoh after the hurrying Golden Pair.
Shaking himself from the intoxication of Fuji's impromptu assault, Ryoma sighed irately and gestured for an increasingly intrigued Momoshirou to gather his materials and texts. Beyond resignation, boy wonder wandered after the rest of their teammates.
"Good god, what kind of Fuji devotee are you!"
White faced and very much subdued, the latest reporting fangirl underling shook her head helplessly. "S-sorry kaichou... That's all I saw.…. really..."
Already in the last twenty minutes, each separate club had its various "field agents" reporting in, with the same bit of information: the tennis team Regulars (subtracting the hospitalized captain) were amassing at the library. That left much to be speculated over and none of it normal under any circumstances.
Pacing agitatedly, the president of Fuji's official fan club stopped to loom menacingly over her cowering club member. Well away, on the other side of the room, the rest of the club representatives and their respective presidents watched with something akin to pity for the poor cringing first-year fangirl.
Tomoka in particular was absolutely disgusted. What kind of kaichou was that girl, anyway? Snotty, prissy—okay, stop—already traveled down that track once, enough. Barely repressing the overwhelming urge to do something very immature (like making insulting facial expressions and hand gestures at the older club president), she smiled mildly over at her own three trusted club members who were very much shocked at the near-violent display.
"Any word from the R squad?" she murmured as unobtrusively as was possible.
"No. Sorry Kaichou."
"What about the Y squad?"
"Nothing."
"M squad?"
Again a negative.
"Alright. Thank you Forty-Seven." Tomoka sighed. Being a dedicated kaichou was harder than it looked. And when the focus kept on trying (and succeeding to a certain extent) to avoid prying eyes, her duties as the Number One fan grew even more difficult.
Very distressing.
Just as Tomoka was ready to pack up and leave (with an apology to the rest of the clubs, of course) the familiar formula of a cell phone ring vibrated from within her shoulder bag.
"Yes? Yes, this is Tomoka speaking. Listen, if this is something unrelated to the Echizen Ryoma—Seishun Gakuen Senior High no Oujisama—Appreciation Fan Club business, please call back after business hours and—"
She gasped.
"—Eeeeeh? You're IN there? What are you doing in there! I know you want to find out the truth for the sake of Ryoma-sama's well being, but that's much too risky! Inui-senpai's there too you know!"
Curiosity stilled even the volatile Fuji fan club-kaichou.
Looking very much torn between unrestrained exultation and genuine worry, Tomoka bounced to her feet. "No! Don't hang up yet Number Three! Stay on line and keep us informed. We'll be there right away!"
Thus saying, Tomoka handed the small device to her second, nearly running towards and colliding with the door in her haste. Just before she reached the closed exit, she turned back impatiently to where the rest of the conglomeration stood in open confusion.
"What are you waiting for!" she demanded, hair and head bobbing maddeningly. "Let's move!"
"Kaichou?" Tomoka almost stomped her foot in exasperation at the bewildered expression mirrored upon her own club members' faces.
"To the library of course!" she explained with an impatient huff. She turned to face the other uncertain girls. "It's common sense that even those as perfect as Ryoma-sama have secrets. Besides, who knows what boys talk about anyway?" Her grin was one of cunning. "You never know what can be revealed behind closed doors, neeee?"
Twenty-seven blinks.
Almost spasming with pent up adrenaline, Tomoka pointed at the small electronic device in her Number Two's hands. "The captain of my Special Ops E squad is currently INSIDE the parameters of the library and is tailing the tennis Regulars!" She silently howled in frustration. Did she have to spell it out for them?
Then it was Tomoka's turn to blink as a mad dash for the door followed a second after her announcement. She watched in amazement before following exultantly.
Right. That seemed to do the trick.
Kaidoh's own Number One Fan glanced over at the younger club president with open admiration as they streamed through the sliding doors. "Very impressive, Osakada..."
Tomoka's expression could only be defined as smug. "We only reserve the best for our ouji-sama!"
The resident blonde kaichou grimaced as she accepted the bottled lemon water her second offered her and trailed after the others. Nothing seemed to be going right anymore! Fuji-sama's reputation and status were at stake! She HAD to turn this opportunity to unearth the truth and save the one true prince of Seigaku High from whatever evil clutches she could positively FEEL where reaching for him.
As the purposeful group hurried down the hallway, none seemed to notice the lone figure walking cautiously towards their previously in-use room from a completely different direction.
Sakuno peered into the now-abandoned classroom-turned conference room.
Funny, she could have sworn she heard Tomoka's cell phone ring a few minutes ago...
Stepping back out disappointedly, she slid close the door with an abject sigh.
"Mou... Where is everybody?"
"Alright Fuji. Please, I'm begging you here."
"Unyaaaa... Why are you begging Oishi? Iya, what are you doing! Fuji! Tell Oishi to get up from down there!"
Ryoma sighed from his seat at the individual study desk. And here was another piece to the grand scheme that only Fuji Syuusuke, all-round prodigy, could come up with.
"Mmn? Stop kneeling Oishi," Fuji reprimanded gently, "If someone where to barge in here, they'd get a very bad impression."
Ryoma snorted. As did Momoshirou and Inui.
Kaidoh hissed embarrassedly at the mental image planted there and flushed red.
Eiji pouted. "Nyaaa, stop stalling Fuuuujiiii!" He widened his eyes to even larger-than-normal proportions. "Tell us what you're planning to do! Pleeeeaaaaase?"
"Saa, if you insist."
Ryoma fidgeted. Strange… for some reason his danger signals were going ballistic all of a sudden...
Fuji's facial expression shifted from one of benevolence to positively devious as his calculating gaze settled upon boy wonder.
Well, it was said that actions spoke louder than words...
Subtly maneuvering his seated boyfriend, Fuji smirked at the wide eyed gaze that screamed, "AGAIN!" and pressed soft lips against an equally pliant mouth.
Oishi flushed and averted his eyes politely.
Eiji on the other hand, found the scene inexplicitly interesting. The redhead furrowed his brow as he watched the couple closely. After a little over one minute, his dark blue eyes started to widen. "Heeeeh..." A disbelieving look settled on his intent features as he glanced from both geniuses, to the library clock, then back again. "Ne, Oishi..."
The mildly red-faced fuku-buchou made a weak sound to indicate that he was listening.
"... I think Fuji and Ochibi-chan just broke our record."
Oishi spluttered at the blunt remark. "Eiji!"
Momoshirou on the other hand, having gotten over his previous open-mouthed gaping shock, started to snicker. Feeling almost as entertained as when he verbally sparred with his rival, he also glanced around momentarily to take in the rest of his teammates' reactions: Oishi, ever the easily embarrassed had found the far wall of great interest. Eiji who apparently had no qualms with voyeurism was staring at the two geniuses with something akin to morbid fascination, and catching sight of Inui mirroring Eiji's actions didn't help control his amusement either.
Even in the limited light, Inui's glasses glinted as he scribbled what seemed to be the start of a timetable.
As for Kaidoh... Momo blinked at where his fellow junior was huddled resolutely in a corner, seeming with all intentions to strike up a conversation with the minute cracks in the wall. He started laughing uncontrollably.
Perhaps the only one truly un-amused by the whole situation was the kiss-recipient himself. Ryoma growled in the back of his throat as he pushed futilely against the form that barred him from bolting. This was insufferable! Damn it all, what was Fuji thinking! As much as Ryoma enjoyed (sort of) Fuji's random displays of affection, voluntarily depleting one's brain of oxygen in front of an audience TWICE in one day was going too far!
They still hadn't played tennis yet!
... and then tawny eyes suddenly started to involuntarily flutter shut against the sight of Momoshirou's hysterical laughter and the disturbing glint on Inui-senpai's glasses...
Only when those bright eyes snapped open again in objection to the lack of air did Fuji finally release the shorter boy with a gentle pat on the cheek before stepping back from physical harm's way.
A low whistle came from Kikumaru's general direction. "Wow... That was so cool Fuji!" The hyperactive teen cheered. Turning excitedly to his flustered doubles partner, he draped an arm over one tense shoulder. "We have work to do Oishi! Practice, practice, practice!"
"Eiji..."
Interesting. Inui noted the doubles specialist's lack of objections before gazing pointedly at Fuji who looked as if he were a cat who caught the mouse and also polished off a bowl of cream.
"Dare I ask why you did that?"
"Practice," Fuji murmured contentedly to his co-conspirator, Inui, who looked on and arched an eyebrow.
"Practice?"
The dazed, oxygen depleted look that had softened Ryoma's gaze gradually shed away as he focused a not-amused stare at his boyfriend's back.
A warning glare. "Fuji."
"For a grand finale."
Grand finale? Aha. An understanding smirk curled onto Inui's lips as he made a mental note to pay the school's Film Club for a visit before the day was through. After all, a few more twists in Fuji's grandiose scheme wouldn't hurt.
Fuji glanced over at where Kaidoh still refused to turn around. "We're leaving Kaidoh," he called cheerfully, tugging the now sulking tennis genius towards the door. "And I'm going to guess that we have more audiences outside, ne Inui?"
"According to my calculations, that's a ninety-eight percent positive probability."
Fuji smirked. "Well then, shall we go visit that new street court in the meantime, Ryoma-sama?"
Ignoring the choked laughter that reminded him of a dying seal coming from where he knew Momoshirou was standing, Ryoma scowled, flung open the closed door—
"GYAH! Oww-geez—AH! RYOMA-SAMA!"
—and ended up glowering at the unfortunate person who was incidentally behind it.
Blanching ever so slightly, addressed boy turned a wary gaze towards the direction of the main desk and back again. The Number Three Fan of the Ryoma-sama Fan Club was staring back and forth from her club's object of affection and a fair-haired tensai, previous pain and shock of head-butting a door fading to a desperate struggle to understand.
"Ryoma-sama... he... and you... h-he... wh-how...?"
Saving the already frustrated boy any further headache, Fuji stepped forward and leveled an unwavering blue gaze at the unfortunate fangirl.
"Iya. Didn't you know that eavesdropping is a very bad habit?"
Ryoma let loose a tired sigh. Seeing that only Inui, Kaidoh and Momoshirou had made it out of the back room (an idiot could've probably guessed where, or what, Eiji and Oishi were at; Kaidoh had bolted the moment Inui stepped out), he continued to watch as Fuji subdued his self-proclaimed fangirl.
"—so no interfering, ne?"
Oh yes. Very much subdued.
Ryoma gave up. Slanting a disinterested look that read, "weepy, whiny, annoying. You still want them?" to his spiky-haired senpai, he left the building very much stressed and in need of a good, intense match. Fuji, who in contrast, was surprisingly calm, followed him out after patting his boyfriend's quivering fangirl on the head mockingly.
Momoshirou and Inui watched as the two other players left, before the younger male offered a charming smile to the near-tears victim of Fuji's possessive sadism. Somehow managing to smuggle out the over-enthusiastic Eiji and Oishi from their "practices", they too escaped from the confines of the building and its now hostile caretakers.
As all exited the library and wisely avoided the noisy incoming mass of fangirls, they came to a silent agreement.
No one, not even Inui, knew of what to expect of the promised drama tomorrow.
End Part 3
Completed: 02/08/04
Revised: 04/03/05