A Gentlemen's Wager, Chapter 16
A/N: Behold the very last chapter! Finally this story can stop eating away at my brain and leave room for the other variety of things eating my brain... including this Senbatsu series I'm working on... sigh. Thanks much for sticking with me on my ramblings, especially my reviewers. Waffles for Microgirl, Whisper, and CrimsonVictory for patting me on the shoulder and forcing me out of passive voice.
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Inui heard the game count from a thousand miles away. The match was over, but his body felt numb and his ears rang. Did Kaidoh go through this every game? He stumbled toward the location he remembered Seigaku being in, completely unprepared for the flying Kikumaru that landed on his back.
"Yatta, Inui! Nice game!" the acrobatics specialist cried, locking an arm around his neck.
Inui's speech capabilities hadn't quite returned, though he could see the line of thumbs up from his teammates who all seemed to need to congratulate him at once. Everyone but Kaidoh, that is, who had separated himself from the mass of celebrators. Inui's eyes stayed on him even as the rest of the team whirled around in a blue and white blur.
"Ne, Eiji. We should buy Inui some celebratory Ponta," Fuji suggested.
Kikumaru released his headlock. "Right! We should toast!" Skillfully, the two rounded up the rest of the team, none of whom apparently remembered that Inui detested the vile sugar water which contained no nutritional substance and was probably stunting Echizen's growth. In a few moments, he was alone with Kaidoh.
Awkward silence before Kaidoh said quietly, without looking Inui in the eye, "Nice game, senpai."
"Ah. It was ...different. Honestly, I can't remember much of the last three rounds. I believe this is the first time I've ever walked away from a match with no new data. Do you always feel so disoriented after playing?"
"Not always," Kaidoh kept his eyes downcast. "You've learned a lot. Even Fuji-senpai thinks so."
"I had an excellent instructor," Inui tried, to which Kaidoh merely shrugged. Inui's stomach churned. In the heat of the competition, he'd forgotten what a jerk he'd been of late. And he had no data on this to calculate his odds of mending the situation.
A deep breath. He didn't need the data anymore. Not for Kaidoh.
"Kaidoh." That at least got his eyes focused on him --staggeringly dark eyes behind the shadow of his hair. Inui gulped. He hadn't prepared a thing, but this couldn't wait a second longer. "Kaidoh, I have been a terrible doubles partner and a far worse boyfriend. I cannot guarantee a zero percent chance of relapsing, but with your permission, I would like to try again."
Inui counted 7.38 seconds before Kaidoh answered. It felt easily like 14.94.
And then Kaidoh's lips curved upwards into a hint of a smile. "We should go on a cool down run, senpai."
That was not an answer. "Kaidoh ..."
"Senpai, if you don't go on a cool down run down, your legs will cramp and you won't be able to practice. We can't work on the new formation if you can't practice." Kaidoh handed Inui a towel, which the older boy automatically accepted, marveling that Kaidoh allowed their hands to stay connected in that way, fingers just brushing against each other. "And several hundred people are not watching us if we are on a cool down run."
For the first time since the match had ended, Inui realized that though Seigaku had given them their privacy, the stands were packed with spectators, many of whom had brought cameras.
"Let's go, senpai." Kaidoh started off at a jog. Inui followed. Oishi and Kikumaru generally disappeared about thirty meters down the footpath near the water fountains. There would probably be enough cover there for Inui to kiss the smirk off of Kaidoh's face. Several times, if necessary.
The wind stubbornly refused to blow. As Atobe and Fuji met on opposite ends of the footpath, no tumbleweed rolled past, and neither boy's hair ruffled dramatically. Apparently, even Fuji's signature element found this whole standoff just plain silly.
Jirou personally didn't have much of an attention span for such things, and he was very tired. Marui-kun's match had depleted most of his energy and working on Fuji had taken the rest. Sanada and Echizen hadn't even played an interesting game. It wasn't original or shiny, just really, really long. Jirou really wished Atobe would hurry up so they could go home.
Inui appeared to share his sentiments. The analyst stood a meter behind Fuji, brow furrowed in irritation. He obviously had somewhere better to be (Jirou had a pretty good idea where as he'd been napping near the water fountains after Inui's match). Still, neither Fuji nor Atobe seemed to feel like breaking the dramatic pause.
Just as Jirou was about to doze off completely, Atobe spoke. "Ore-sama was unaware Sanada's wife was going to be undergoing surgery during the match."
"Sanada's psychological state was not a factor in the wager," Fuji countered. "Echizen won."
"Indeed." Atobe sighed, shrugging elegantly. Atobe was the only person Jirou knew who thought shrugs should be performed with flourish. "It appears you've won then. Give my best regards to Tezuka. Ore-sama's people will deal with the ticket."
Jirou's eyes opened a fraction wider to observe Fuji. If the tensai was going to balk, he would do so here. Jirou had done everything in his power to earn Fuji's sympathy and understanding, but he still had no idea if Fuji would let Atobe off the hook. He'd been congenial on the practice court, but Fuji was always congenial. At the moment, his eyes looked like they could very congenially shoot laser beams through Atobe's neck.
And then Inui said, "Tickets."
All eyes refocused on the data player, who was absently skimming the wager's contents.
Atobe recovered first. "Pardon?"
"We'll require nine of them."
"Nine?" Fuji was taking very deliberate, slow breaths. That was probably not a good sign.
"The eight of us, plus we'll need at least one chaperone for any of our parents to allow it. I'm sure Ryuzaki-sensei would enjoy the vacation."
Atobe was slowly turning a very pretty shade of fuscia. He had a shirt that would match his new skin tone perfectly.
"Inui, what are you talking about?" Fuji asked, his smile strained.
"The most updated draft of the wager clearly states that in the event of Echizen's victory over Sanada in singles one, the Hyotei representative -- namely Atobe Keigo -- would fund a trip for, I quote 'the whole damn team' i.e. Seigaku, to Germany for the purpose of visiting their buchou. Thus, we will require nine tickets."
Atobe had a feather boa that about matched the current shade of Fuji's face.
"Inui, I don't believe--"
"Ore-sama never--"
"Akutagawa-kun. Would you confirm the amendment to the wager?"
Jirou stretched, trying very hard to remain sleepy-looking and not allow the giggle fit inside to burst out. "You did say it, Atobe. At the restauraunt. I wrote it down so I wouldn't forget." He produced a somewhat crumpled copy of the wager, complete with his marginal notes.
"Jirou, ore-sama did not tell you to write that down," Atobe said through gritted teeth.
"Well you didn't tell me much of anything about this wager. I figured it was my responsibility," Jirou shrugged. He wasn't going to get to sleep through practices for at least two weeks, but it was worth it. That'd teach Atobe to think he could keep secrets.
Meanwhile, Fuji was speaking to Inui in slow, even tones as if he were reading an instruction manual. Well, maybe an instruction manual for a guillotine. "Inui, while I enjoy the company of the team, I do not require any amount of chaperoning on this trip, so I believe Atobe-san and I both agree that --"
"I cannot alter the previous agreement, Fuji. It would be unethical. The team will be very excited to make the trip. I'll inform them at the celebration later, but now I have a prior engagement to attend to." He nodded to the three of them and proceeded to head back towards where Seigaku was dispersing.
Atobe and Fuji watched him walk away, both of their eyes wide in amazement. They then turned to each other, exchanging another glare that begged for some sort of lightning strike to land between them. Jirou inched a few paces back.
Finally, Atobe pressed one hand against his forehead as he usually did when staving off a headache. "Are we even yet, Fuji?"
Jirou was amazed Fuji could get words out between a jaw clenched that tightly shut. "Honestly, I really don't care anymore."
"Fine. Ore-sama's people will deal with whatever arrangements are necessary. Let's not speak again until the next tournament, ah?"
"Agreed." The tensai and the aristocrat both turned to stalk away in opposite directions.
Jirou snickered to himself. He'd really been hoping Inui would do that. It was about time the two of them cooled down about this whole Tezuka issue. All Jirou wanted to do now was go home and --
The sleepiness abruptly faded as Jirou realized Hiyoshi's mom had already picked everyone else up. He'd stuck around to see how the wager turned out ... aw crap.
"Oy, Atobe! Wait up!" Jirou tore after the buchou. If he pouted enough, he might be able to still get a ride home.
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A/N: The end! The end! The end! Hope everyone enjoyed the strangled route this ruddy story decided to take. Please keep in mind that most of the time, I was not driving this fic. I'm not sure who was. It might have been Kaidoh. I'll post my ultra-sappy epilogue in a bit because I feel like I've earned an ultra-sappy epilogue and dammit I miss my buchou.