I'm sure most of you noticed, but my brainchild just hit a huge milestone the other day! Yes, HWGA has recently gotten its 100th review! *Applause* Congrats to ShamelesslyUsed for being the lucky reviewer, and thank you to everyone who helped me get to this point (my beta, readers, subscribers, etc)! I LLL-OVE YA! Here's to another 100, ne?

Also, I'm sorry this was a few hours late. I didn't finish writing it in time, and Self still needed to beta it. Hopefully it won't happen again ^^;

Here We Go Again

Chapter Twelve: Daily Life

Ryoma's golden eyes and ruffled hair poked out from beneath the covers, sparkling in the dim morning sunlight. Glancing over at the clock, he groaned internally at the numbers 6:14 shining back at him. It was far too early (for him) to be up, yet there wasn't enough time to fall back asleep properly. He groaned, flopping onto his back again. He could already tell it would be one of those mornings…

The patio door slid open quietly, breaking the heady silence. "Ah, you're awake, Ryo-chan?"

And then there was that.

The boy grunted unintelligibly, pulling the covers firmly back over his head. Unfortunately, Fuji (his new freaking roommate) apparently felt like denying him his warm, blissful I'm-not-getting-up-yet time.

"Now, now. You've got to get up, we've got practice." The brunet had ripped the blankets down with surprising force and was now shaking Ryoma's shoulder.

Grunt.

"Would it help if I said please?"

Grunt.

"Hm… You're rather stubborn. What to do…?" Fuji's voice stopped, trailing off with the singsong question. Less than a minute later, it returned. "It was your choice."

He barely had the chance to think, 'oh, hell…' before a wave of icy cold washed over him. Spluttering, coughing, and cursing a blue streak, Ryoma looked up through his wet strands of hair to see his senpai standing at the foot of his bed, a bucket in hand (Lord knows where he got it).

"What're you doing?" he yelled looking down at his soaking torso… body… bed. Fuji had actually dumped a bucket of cold water on him. What. The hell.

"I'm waking you up," the brunet replied pleasantly. "Now, you should go dry off and get dressed. I'll be downstairs, making breakfast."

Ryoma gulped. Now there was incentive to get downstairs quickly. The whole house knew that Fuji was an excellent cook… when he wanted to be. The main problem was that he almost never wanted to be, instead choosing to cook according to his own strange tastes.

He bolted upright, jumped out of bed, and hurried into the bathroom (he did take extra care to slam the door, though).

Once inside, he toweled off quickly, rubbing the wet green mop that was his hair. He threw on his practice jersey and pulled up his hair, already feeling some excess water seeping through his shirt.

Ryoma grabbed his bag and, throwing it over one shoulder, left his room. Before he went downstairs, he ran over to Momo's room and kicked the door loudly, waking the junior up with his usual method. "Get your ass out of bed!"

Ignoring the crashes and yells coming from behind the door, presumably from said junior falling onto the floor, Ryoma headed downstairs. He strode down the hallway, looking for any signs that the brunet had begun to cook. Thankfully none of the telltale clatters or smells drifted from the kitchen. All the same, when he stepped into the room, it was with extreme caution.

This caution only increased his urge to face-palm when he was met with the sight of Fuji calmly eating a bowl of cereal. His eyes opened slightly as his head and shoulders were thrown back slightly. "Huh?

"Oi, Ryoma. You're blocking the way," a finger flicked the back of his head as a playful voice called out behind him. Kevin stood behind him, all smiles and fully clothed in a brand new tennis uniform.

"How are you so energetic…?" he muttered by way of response, stepping out of the blonde's path.

"I'm healthy and get to bed at a reasonable time," the American replied with a teasing smile and a raised eyebrow.

"I go to sleep at the same time as you, though," the smaller teen deadpanned.

"Hm. And you're sure that you're not narcoleptic?"

"Yes, I'm-" Ryoma was cut by off his friend throwing an arm lightheartedly around his shoulders, goofy grin plastered across his face.

"I'm joking, I'm joking. Now come on, I'm hungry!" Pushing and pulling, Kevin led the still bleary-eyed Ryoma over to the table. "Oi, Fuji-san, can you pass the cereal and milk here? Otherwise this guy's going to collapse in the next five minutes."

"I can get breakfast on my own, thanks." Grabbing the cereal from Kevin's hand, the boy plunked down on his seat and poured it into his bowl.

After his stomach was full enough to let his brain function, he began actually paying attention to his surroundings. Inui and Kaidoh had arrived and were discussing a new training menu, while Kevin and Fuji were now in a conversation about school.

"I'm going to be in class 1-A with Ryoma, I think," said the blond, glancing over to the dark haired boy as he did so. "Hey, you're alive again!"

"Shut up…" Ryoma replied tersely. After all, being awake didn't mean being in the mood to banter so early in the morning.

Fuji laughed before turning once more to his new little brother (Kikumaru still refused any claims that they weren't a fraternity). "And you've got all your books and things already?"

"Yeah."

The brunet nodded, letting the room fall into a comfortable silence as everyone ate. After a few minutes of spoons clattering on bowls, Kikumaru and Oishi walked into the kitchen. The redhead immediately pulled both freshmen into a bear hug and started chatting animatedly.

Smiling at his partner's cheer, Oishi turned to the rest of the team. "Tezuka had to leave early to speak to the principal, so he left me in charge of getting everyone there on time and starting morning practice. We should leave in about five-"

"Sorry, I'm here!"

All heads turned to the sight of a hassled-looking Momo bursting through the doorway, bag hanging haphazardly from his shoulder and racquet in one hand. Nearly as one, the room's occupants burst into laughter.

Smirking at the look of confusion on his upperclassman's face, Ryoma walked up to the teen, thumping him on the back. "We noticed. Come on, Momo-senpai, time to go to practice."

"What? But…? How are you here before me?" The poor junior, still half asleep, was looking extremely confused by now.

"Mada mada dane."

"Oi, brat! Get back here!" Momo yelled, completely forgetting breakfast (one could always eat in class, after all).

"I'm guessing that's our sign that it's time to go?" Kevin asked, laughing as he got up from his seat.

"More or less," Fuji replied cheerfully. "Come on, everyone."

Realizing what he was supposed to be doing, Oishi began taking up Tezuka's usual task of rounding the teens up and getting them out the door.

The teammates began their walk to school, talking and bickering happily. As they made their way closer to the main building, their paths crossed that of other athletes, all grudgingly heading towards their own morning practices.

When they were more than half of the way there, Ryoma found himself being engulfed into a crushing from-the-side-glomp, courtesy of Kikumaru. "Ne, ne, Ochibi! Your brother was just as scary as Ryuuzaki-sensei was! But he's also nice, nya… Either way, he's a really tough trainer! No wonder you're so good!"

The boy tugged his cap down irately, winding his arm around both of the redhead's. "I was doing fine before he agreed to the job, Kikumaru-senpai. Now let me go." Without mercy, he dug his elbow into his upperclassman's sweet spot, smirking slightly as the teen immediately fell off, yelping.

"Unyah!" yelled the senior, stretching the two syllables out. "Why would you do that? Ochibi's mean in the morning! Oishi!"

It was with a sadistic satisfaction that Ryoma watched Kikumaru bounce/limp off, crying for his boyfriend.

"There is something seriously wrong with you; that was just morally wrong," commented Kevin as he fell into step with his friend.

"He deserved it."

The blond blinked at the dark haired boy's uncharacteristically vindictive statement, then shuddered. "Remind me to never make you mad on one of your bad mornings. Or, you know, mornings in general."

Grunt.

Well used to how volatile the teen could be in the morning, Kevin simply smiled at the oh-so-eloquent reply. "I'll shut up, then."

The two walked in comfortable silence for the next few minutes, until the sounds of chatter and tennis balls reached their ears. Knowing the courts would now be in sight, Ryoma looked up. Unfortunately, his brother's voice was the first thing to assault his senses once he did so.

"Oi! Hurry it up there!" The tall man was standing in the first court, waving with one arm. "Where's kid captain?"

Apparently, Inui was the only one to decipher Ryoga's strange nickname, as he was the only one to respond. "Tezuka went to confer with Sawada-kouchou about your new position before practice. He should be arriving in four-point-two minutes."

Too stunned by his captain's new name, (and his upperclassman's… eccentricity, to say the least) Ryoma almost missed his brother's announcement. "The last one to put away his bag and run twenty laps gets the first juice of the day!"

"Oi!" the boy yelled as he scrambled to catch up with the rest of the spooked team.

God damn it, aniki.

~X~

A single lock of greenish black hair was twisted around his slender finger as he yawned deeply. Why couldn't Ayaka-sensei just get attendance over with so he could start sleeping?

His reminder as to why just happened to come with the sound of the classroom door being slid open, the words, "Meet your new classmate," and a workbook being thrown at his head. Today was really not shaping up to be his day.

His head snapped up indignantly. "Ouch! The heck was that for?"

"Oi, Ryoma! Wake your lazy ass up! You're getting introduced to me!" Looking amused and smug, Kevin stood in the doorway. The American was relaxing from a post-throw stance, all but shouting that he'd been the book thrower.

"You, huh?" Pretending to appraise his friend for a moment, Ryoma nestled his head back into his arms. "Thanks but no thanks, peroxide head."

"I told you, it's my natural color!"

As they watched the peculiar exchange, several of the teens in the room sweat dropped. Several more followed suit when the newcomer hurled another book at their (usually) composed and quiet classmate. The boy shot up from his chair this time, and began shouting in fast, angry English. Though no one could understand the heated words, they'd be right in guessing that they weren't exactly classroom appropriate.

As the blond teen began to shout back, also in flawless English, the teacher finally stepped in, coughing pointedly. "Excuse me, Smith-san, Echizen-kun. While you two obviously know each other, I'm assuming that the rest of the class is wondering why there's a foreigner arguing with their classmate.

Huffing, Ryoma flopped down in his chair. Those sitting nearby could hear him muttering what was probably more curse words in several languages.

"Alright, everyone! Now that their little show is over, I'd like to introduce you to Smith Kevin-san, a new transfer student from America," announced Ayaka-sensei cheerfully.

Waving lightly, Kevin gave the class a cheeky grin. "Nice to meet you, you can call me just Kevin if you like, everyone else does."

"Smith-san, you'll be sitting to the left of Horio-kun. Horio-kun, can you raise your hand, please?"

Doing so, the loudmouth proclaimed, "I remember you! You were on the American team back in middle school! With my five years of tennis experience, I'm sure you'd love to play me some time!"

The blond raised his eyebrows, glancing at Ryoma as he walked towards the empty desk that would soon be his. Barely looking up, the other boy shook his head slightly. "Ignore him," could practically be heard echoing in Kevin's head.

He sat down, placing a notebook and a pen on the desktop. Then he remembered what subject he had first period. English. Great.

Five minutes later, the blond's soft snores added to those of his friend.

~X~

Ryoma managed to stay awake for science class during fourth period, not wanting to miss his favorite subject, but staying awake meant putting up with a whole lot of shit.

Horio was blurting out answers, the vast majority of which were wrong.

Tomoka was insisting on correcting him in an equally loud voice.

Peroxide head kept braiding strands of Ryoma's ponytail together, simply for entertainment (though Ryoma had no clue how, where, or why Kevin learned to braid hair).

And finally, his stomach was grumbling and all he could think about lunch next period.

Needless to say, science was on the fast track to being his least favorite subject. But no matter how idiotic his classmates got, he could always zone them out to listen to his teacher with mild interest (highest praise to the man for getting that level of attentiveness from the teen).

As the lecture came to a close, the sound of books being shut and chairs scraping against the floor filled the classroom. Students chattered happily as they either sat down with their friends or left to eat in a different part of the school.

Ryoma (part of the latter group) stood lazily and walked out, pausing on his way out the door to make sure Kevin saw him in case the blond chose to follow. Sure enough, his friend joined him within a minute. As they made their way up to the roof, they also met up with Momo, who would usually eat with his kohai.

The trio set out their lunches near the edge of the roof and began eating, occasionally exchanging words. It was only at a particular question of Momo's that Ryoma actually started listening, though.

"…color is your class for tomorrow?"

Kevin thought for a moment then said in reply, "I think Ayaka-sensei said it was black."

"What're you talking about?" asked the absent-minded teen.

"Jeez, you really don't know how to listen, do you brat?" asked the trickster with a long-suffering sigh.

"We're talking about what our class is wearing for tomorrow," replied Kevin with a grin. "To think that they have Field Day on my second day in school. Lucky, huh?"

...

"Field Day?"

~X~

"Goal!"

Several teenagers in blue, red, or green tracksuits watched sympathetically as a much smaller group of nine collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. One smaller teen wearing blue shorts and a matching jacket looked at the prone forms.

"Am I the only one who finds all these ties spooky?"

The answer would be no.

"Alright you bums, stand up and line up. I've got an announcement," called the new coach, Echizen Ryoga.

"Hai!" chorused most of the team, (the Regulars went with a noticeably lower amount of energy and higher amount of complaints) rushing to their spots. This new instructor was a largely unknown quantity, after all.

"Alright, listen up! This applies to all of you and I'm not repeating myself! Tomorrow's practices will be cancelled thanks to Field Day, so if you show up here tomorrow morning, don't expect anyone to be here." Noticing the cheers that went up at the words "Field Day," Ryoga smirked. Get out of four hours of practice; end up running around all day instead. Very cheer-worthy.

As the lines dispersed and Inui set up the old colored-ball-and-cone drill for the Regulars, (nothing like the basics, after all) Ryoma strolled up to Kevin, who was speaking to Fuji again.

"Am I the only one questioning the fact that a high school has Field Day? The last one I had was in elementary school, back in America," the ambiguous boy commented.

Fuji's smile widened slightly. "We thought the same thing when we first got here two years ago. The school hosts several festivals and activities throughout the year, presumably as a reward for the students' good grades."

Translation: We're smart so we can afford to lose a few days.

"Usually, some students from the artisan dorms will sit out, though, and just cheer for their friends." As the genius finished his explanation, he laughed inwardly at the "are you shitting me" face that Ryoma was currently wearing. How cute.

"Oi, Chibisuke! Stop socializing and get over here! You and Kikumaru are up first!"

Seeing his brother in his trainer mode, the boy complied. This time, he thought, I'll complete the drill for sure. Inui had a particularly large cooler with him today.

~X~

Ryoma sat on his bed, reading over a passage of Shakespeare that his class had been assigned to translate as best they could. Ryoma already knew of the passage and its meaning, but it was still an interesting piece of literature. Placing his books on the shelf next to him, he decided to actually listen to Kikumaru and head down to dinner. If he'd timed it right, then Momo and Kaidoh would've already gotten into their first dinnertime fight, and Oishi or Tezuka would've separated them. That meant that it was safe to grab food and eat it without ending up covered in your meal.

He slammed the door of his room shut and skidded down the slide, (the thing was really growing on him) not breaking pace as he walked to the kitchen. That is, until he identified the smell wafting towards him.

Pizza.

"Shit!" he cursed, breaking into a run. The entire household was well aware of the fact that pizza was a rare treat. The only time they could get their hands on it was if Tezuka was in a good mood (weekends only) or if there was yet another unfortunate incident involving Inui's experiments. This meant that any of the Italian takeout was pounced on immediately.

The teen entered just in time, as Momo was reaching for the last two slices. Giving the junior a sound smack upside the head, Ryoma snatched them out of his hands. "Give me that. You've probably had plenty already."

"Oi! That hurt, brat! And it's first come, first serve!" Momo complained loudly, rubbing the back of his head.

"Che."

Dinner passed as quietly as it could in this dorm, probably because everyone was dead tired from the unusually harsh workout that Ryoga had put them through. Aside from really meaning what he'd said about getting them to Nationals, it seemed that he was trying to compensate for the time they would lose tomorrow.

Half an hour later, Ryoma flopped down into bed with Fuji's soft, regular breathing already filling the room and Momo and Kikumaru's war cries (from where they were playing video games in the foyer) drifting through the door. As his eyes slid closed, he slipped into an oddly contemplative state. Thinking over the past few weeks, his sleepy mind managed one coherent thought.

Coming back was a good idea…

Well, I hope you all had a good Halloween, I know I did. See, I know you can't tell through all of your awe at my prowess, (arrogance and sarcasm- doin' it up Atobe-style) but I'm still in the trick-or-treat-er range. Anyway, yay candy, yay Halloween, and I just realized that this entire A/N only applies to Americans. Yay nationalism and naïveté, then.