Prince of Tennis © Konomi Takeshi

Achilles

125 words

"You're fat," Ryou stated as politely as one talking about serious physical disadvantages could possibly manage. "Kinda like my old hamster."

Keigo gave the boy a disdainful look. "I'd absolutely love to finish this novel in peaceful solitude, Shishido. Please disappear."

Ryou's bright eyes displayed nothing but pure bewilderment. Not only was Atobe Keigo plump and thus completely gekidasa on all levels, he also enjoyed thick boring books without pictures. "What the hell, Atobe," Ryou frowned. "Let's go, hey."

"Where?" Keigo sneered. "Specify a direction."

"…there." Keigo's weird speaking manner irritated Ryou greatly. Even Oshitari Yuushi, that dark-skinned Kansai crybaby, sounded much more understandable. "Say… wanna play something? War or…"

"Alright," Keigo sighed. "Stand up, noble Patroclus."

For a split second, Ryou almost felt excited.