I don't know what I did in a past life, but someone is seriously pissed at me for it. I was visiting relatives for Spring Break this week, and they had no wifi. At. Fricking. All. Please for the love of god don't kill me.

Here We Go Again

Chapter Twenty-Three: Meanwhile, In Japan

Part II

Gray light slowly began to filter through Fuji's eyelids. He woke slowly, knowing that his circadian rhythm would have given him ample time to relax before he actually had to get up and moving. The vitalizing smell of detergent, fresh air, and grapes hit him as he rolled over and buried his face in the satiny sheets.

Hm. He actually smells a little like Ponta, thought his sleepy mind, remembering whose bed he was currently in. Despite almost a week of absence, Ryoma's scent still permeated the covers. This, as Fuji convinced himself later, was what kept him in bed longer than usual.

After he could no longer take the boring – albeit comfortable – lazing about, the brunet got himself up. He tossed on a hoodie that was lying around and made his way over to the deck.

Even on cloudy days such as today, Fuji would sit outside. It calmed him and helped him plan for the day ahead. Today in particular, he had much to think about.

Their first match of the Kanto Tournament would begin in a few hours, and tense excitement was buzzing through his mind. Opinions, predictions, scenarios, and endless possibilities flitted past almost too quickly to notice. One of the foremost issues was that of the match order. Seishun would almost definitely place their Golden Pair in the Doubles One slot, and Tezuka would be taking Singles One. That left the other three slots to be taken up by Momo, Kaidoh, Inui, and himself. With the loss of Kawamura, there was almost no chance of Fuji playing in Doubles Two, and Momo and Inui were hardly ever paired, so they were also out. One of them would have to be playing Doubles Two with Kaidoh, which ruled the viper out for the remaining singles slot.

When their opponent was taken into account, Fuji was able to draw a clearer conclusion. Josei Shonan would probably place the twins in their first match of the day, and Hiroshi Wakato usually filled their Singles Three slot. The copycat was consistently a tricky player to face, but last year, Seishun had discovered that Inui could effectively counter him. The data-tennis player already had information on the professionals that Wakato copied, and as such could adapt to the changeable style. That meant Momo and Kaidoh would be placed with each other in Doubles Two. That would be an issue. Their teamwork had improved along with their skills, but their tempers hadn't cooled in the slightest. They might have a hard time facing the twins, who could irritate even those not playing. If Seishun were to lose a match today, it would be Doubles Two.

On top of all this, there was the case to think about. Nishi and his son were being charged with assault and bribery, even if the latter had just been a lucky bonus. The tennis team had had no qualms about exposing what they knew about Nishi's time as coach.

Fuji, along with the general public, did not know much about the case for the time being, though. The Echizens knew that the paparazzi would jump on the opportunity to make a field day of this, and as such were trying to keep things low-key. Although, judging by the lack of sadistic workouts over the past few days, Ryoga was content with the way that the case was progressing.

When all was put together, life was going relatively well. Seishun's team was going strong, Ryoma was on his way to winning the US Open, and the bastards who had taken his voice were almost definitely going to be convicted. The only remaining issues were that of Ryoma's voice, which could only be healed by time, and of Nishi's co-conspirators.

While the former coach had been fired and the son expelled, the other students that had helped attack Ryoma remained at Seishun on a three month long in-school suspension- far too light a punishment. They will have to be dealt with…

Demonic visions filled his mind. The teens were pleading with him, tears in their eyes, or screaming from mental and physical pain while he watched coolly. He would have to mess with their minds first. Blackmail was an option, but he also saw merit in simple threats and intimidation.

Off to the side, his phone began to beep. It interrupted his rapidly forming plots and alerted him to the time.

"Ah, that late already?" he asked himself mournfully, wishing he could stay out in the fresh air a bit longer. Being late on a day such as today was unacceptable, but still…

The movements of Fuji's limbs were lethargic as he rose and slipped back inside. Breakfast and a little stretching would solve that easily. He yawned and went over to where he had laid out his uniform the night before.

Within five minutes, he was dressed and ready to go with his bag slung over one shoulder.

There was a quiet click as he closed the door to Ryoma's room, but the house was otherwise silent. This was the case most mornings, although sometimes he would arrive downstairs to find that Tezuka or Kaidoh had beaten him down.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, the brunet noticed soft, sleepy noises coming from the aforementioned teens' rooms. No doubt the building would be alive and chaotic in half an hour.

That still gives me at least fifteen more minutes of peace.

It was the way things worked in his dysfunctional home. Fuji and Tezuka would be up and functioning first, and occasionally Kaidoh would be awake with them for training. There was a short period of quiet time that they would get to themselves before any semblance of serenity was destroyed. Inui would come next, always at the same time as if he functioned on a precise clock. Oishi and Kikumaru followed, and that was usually when things really got loud. Kevin, Momo, and Ryoma were always last (Ryoma, however, had reformed somewhat after he had come down to breakfast on Kevin's first day with them mysteriously drenched and shivering). Their arrival opened the floodgates to completely new levels of madness, be they in the form of arguments or simple, insane antics.

Fuji wouldn't have given it up for the world.

~X~

"Momo! Kaidoh! Now!" Tezuka's booming voice resounded through the foyer, silencing the entire team.

The two juniors in question froze, forgetting to even remove their hands from one another's collars.

Greater men would have quailed under the glare sent their way by the stern captain. Tezuka stood before the open door to the mudroom, arms crossed and eyes glinting. Most of the team was behind him, putting on their shoes and jackets.

"Hai!" the rivals chorused hurriedly. They rushed over, still shooting death glares at one another.

Upstairs, the furious sounds of someone overturning their room that had been serving as background noise for several minutes paused. "Unyah! I can't find my good grip tape!" yelled Kikumaru as he appeared on the walkway with his arms thrown up in panic.

"Kikumaru-senpai!" called Momo, sticking his head into the foyer. "If you're talking about that red tape, I've got it. You let me borrow it at practice the other day, remember?"

"Eh?" Kikumaru jumped over to the railing, bouncing up and down and leaning precariously. "Momo! You shouldn't steal people's things, nya!"

"I didn't-"

"Kikumaru!"

The redhead gave a startled yelp as Tezuka turned the full force of his wrath on him. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"

Kikumaru promptly swung out over the railing and let himself fall, briefly latching onto a pillar to check his speed. He landed in a crouch with his arms spread wide, then hopped straight into the air with his arms making a victory "V."

"Alright, let's go!" The acrobat vaulted over sofas and tables easily, dashing to the door. The team followed him out the door with exasperated smiles and laughs.

Vibrant plants lined the familiar pathway that headed to the school building, and the cool air woke up the group of teenagers quickly. Eventually, their paths intersected with other members of the tennis club who were coming to cheer and watch the match. A good amount of female students from the girl's tennis club and the regulars' fan clubs joined the steadily growing crowd.

There was a veritable throng by the time the school building rose before them. In the courtyard, however, those not on the tennis team broke off from those who were. The slightly smaller group of supporters walked out the front gates while the uniformed athletes drifted over to the bus waiting for them. The team would arrive at the tournament grounds first, giving them time to register and warm up.

"Okay, do we have everyone? And by that I mean I only want to know about the regulars!" Ryoga stood on the bus's bottom step, looking at his team and doing a headcount. "Hey, kid captain! You get everyone?"

Nodding, Tezuka walked up to the bus.

"Good. Alright, everybody in!" Ryoga called as he stepped onboard, waving the teenagers inside after him.

A sloppy mob of club members formed before the bus doors. Fuji stood patiently in the back, not wishing to get mixed up in all the shoving. This lead to him being one of the last to board, but he didn't mind. Sitting down next to Inui, who was too frightening for most to sit next to, the brunet settled in for the ride.

Most of the conversations going on were tuned out, and the only sound coming from Inui was the occasional scratch of pen on paper, so the trip was peaceful.

In what seemed like far less than fifteen minutes, they arrived at the tennis courts. Ryoga ushered them off like a kindergarten teacher, then herded them over to the registration table. At this point, the man took the lead. He spoke to the administrator briefly, who laughed awkwardly at something the coach said. Ryoga handed over their papers and walked off with a jaunty wave.

"We're over here, guys! You ready to kick some Josei Shonan ass?" He smirked at the cheer that arose. "Damn straight you are. It'd be embarrassing for me if we lose today. Now let's go!"

Fuji readjusted his bag for comfort and followed his teammates. His smile broadened slightly. For whatever reason, he found himself actually looking forward to the match today. Tennis had become fun for him at some point over the years, quite possibly because of a green-haired, completely tennis-obsessed freshman.

At the courts, they found that they were second to arrive. Occupying one of the benches was they motley crew that was Josei Shonan. In the past few years, none of the members had changed much. Many of them, the twins especially, had grown taller, and there was more of a mature look to their faces now.

The only major change was the loss of their well-endowed coach. The woman, upset as she was to see all of her "masterpieces" go, had remained in the middle school division. In her place was a young, precise looking man in a business suit.

"Gather up!"

At the loud order from Ryoga, Fuji snapped out of his assessment and walked over to where the regulars were gathering. The man was holding a sheaf of papers and a pencil.

"Okay, so the match order. Everyone here? Yes? Good, because I'm not repeating myself. We're kicking it off with Momo and Viper in Doubles Two- not a word, either of you. We're putting the lovebirds in Doubles One, go figure, and Inui in singles three. I heard that redheaded guy's got a pretty interesting style, so I'm counting on you to take him down."

So far, Fuji was amused to realize, his predictions were spot-on.

"Fuji, you're against the big creepy guy in Singles Two. Have fun with that. Tezuka, hopefully it won't get to this point, but you'll be facing their captain in Singles One. Got it?" Ryoga looked expectantly at his team, daring anyone to protest. "If everyone's cool, then Momo and Kaidoh, get ready!"

A few minutes of final preparations eventually found them lined up before the net once more. Fuji absentmindedly went through the obligatory pre-game motions. After the referee's announcements, wish your opponents good luck. After that, bow. After that, return to the bench, sit down, and shut up. Then, the only thing to do was to watch the match.

"Oi, Momoshiri, don't screw this up," warned Kaidoh with his eyes locked on the feminine duo standing a few yards away.

"That's what I should be saying," responded the trickster calmly. "Just remember that these two are annoying as hell."

"Che. Isn't that your problem?"

Fuji found it slightly amusing to watch his younger teammates' interactions. They had two different types of argument. One was the most common- loud, violent, and virtually pointless. The other was playing out before his eyes. This type of verbal spar was almost understated. No fists went flying, and the words were more efforts to fire up the other than anything else.

The match began with Youhei serving, and the first game was really a toss-up. Either pair was fighting for dominance, in number of points and how much they could irritate each other. Momo and Kaidoh won out in the end, though, thanks to their ever-improving signature moves.

Unfortunately, that was where things started to go downhill.

Right after they lost a game to Seishun's pair, the Tanaka twins began their taunting. Some of the insults were actually quite brilliant, Fuji realized. He gave them credit for being close to his level at getting under peoples' skin.

The genius found his predictions coming true one after another. The two passionate teenagers from his team were getting increasingly angry with their opponents, which led to careless mistakes. The twins took advantage of this to the utmost.

Using their superior vision and hearing, along with their uncanny ability of making people repeatedly screw themselves over, Youhei and Kouhei began to stomp all over Momo and Kaidoh.

The smile slipped off of Fuji's face and his eyebrows creased the tiniest amount. It would be no good if they lost the first match. Sets a bad precedent and all. He only hoped that their not-so-dynamic duo could pull through as they always did. Some form of catalyst would be needed for that, though.

This catalyst came four full games later, when the score had reached five-one. One more game lost by Seishun and Josei Shonan would take Doubles Two.

When the pairs were switching courts and taking a water break, Ryoga pulled his frustrated charges over to the side. Thanks to the practice at lip-reading he had gotten with Ryoma, Fuji was able to discern what the coach was saying.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat anything. They're killing you. Unless you're planning on losing this match and letting your team down, step it up. I can tell that they're really annoying, but you're letting it get to you way too easily. You saw how things went in the first game; you can beat these two. Calm the hell down and pay these bastards back."

Fuji expected no less from an Echizen. Ryoga had been blunt and astute, but at the same time he had used the exact words needed to return Momo and Kaidoh's fighting spirit. A new determination burned in the teens' eyes.

Fuji's gentle smile returned and his piercing eyes opened. For the time being, he was possibly the only one to think so, but Seishun was about to win this match.

"I was my Neo Dunk Smash that beat those punks down!"

"As if! It was the Boomerang Cobra, shit-for-brains."

Fuji's iron concentration was struggling. In fact, the brunet was fairly sure that Tezuka's iron concentration was struggling.

Momo and Kaidoh were at each other's throats, trying to decide which of their modified finishing moves had been of more use in the previous match. This was unfortunate, seeing as an interesting battle was playing out not twenty feet away.

Fuji's crystalline eyes flicked over to the scoreboard. Next to the Doubles Two score of seven-five stood two glaring white fours.

On the courts, Oota and Kiriyama faced the Golden Pair with stony expressions. Both pairs of teenagers were surrounded by a silvery, fluctuating aura, and all of their eyes were an unnerving gold. The match had become a struggle between Synchros.

"Momo, Kaidoh. You'll miss something interesting…" said the brunet quietly.

At the brief statement, the juniors froze and looked at their upperclassman. No one could ignore Fuji, after all.

Momo's jaw hit the ground. "Ah! We haven't had a good Synchro-off in ages!" With a giant grin on his face, the teen jumped over the fence separating them from the court. "Eiji-senpai, Oishi-senpai! If you can hear me, then good luck!"

There was a chance that they could indeed hear Momo, seeing as the Golden pair had virtually mastered their Synchro, but Fuji didn't feel the need to share that. If everyone else in the audience found out how far Kikumaru and Oishi's potential had really stretched, it would take away so much of the suspense, and that would be no fun at all. The knowing smirk on Inui's face told him that the data man shared his sentiments.

"Ne, Inui," he murmured. "When do you think they'll stop playing around?"

In the seat next to him, Inui looked up from his notes. "According to my calculations…"

A bang went off as Kikumaru swatted the ball down from midair with a nearly invisible Kikumaru Bazooka. Inui smiled.

"Now."

Fuji laughed and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head slightly. "Ara, at this rate I don't know if I'll get to play."

Yumiko would be proud of him right now. Although they were a bit calculative, Fuji's predictions seemed increasingly clairvoyant. Inui was currently playing Hiroshi Wakato, and winning by a wide margin.

The redhead had won the first game, at which point Inui announced that he was done collecting all the base data. From there on, despite Wakato pulling out top pros' styles, Inui began to dominate. Whether it was Djokovic, Hewitt, Nadal, or McEnroe, Seishun's senior had enough data to defeat them.

The only changeover that had really gotten to Fuji was Ryoma's. Even if the boy was someone Josei Shonan had known in middle school, of course Wakato would have taken in his style. He was the best, after all. That didn't mean Fuji didn't torture the flirtatious carrot top a little in his mind for daring to act like Ryo-chan.

Even this, the top player in the world, wasn't enough to stop Inui's data. A copy could only go so far, after all; it would never be as good as the original.

The moment Wakato realized this was the moment he switched to something far more irritating. He began to mimic the top players from the high school circuit.

Sanada.

Tezuka.

Chitose.

Him.

Now that's just eerie. Fuji was currently watching Wakato perform a frustratingly imperfect Higuma Otoshi (honestly, people had pulled off better copies in middle school!) with a tiny smile and closed eyes.

"It's the perfect changeover for you," announced the redhead. "Everyone knows you can't collect data on those three monsters from your team, especially Fuji-san."

Inui stood with a blank face in the center of the court, staring at the ball at his feet. Slowly, an evil smile spread on his lips. "That's certainly true. Fuji is impossible to get a read on, even for me. You, however, are only copying Fuji's moves, not his mind. You should know that I have analyzed every nuance of every counter trying to figure him out."

Wakato's eyes narrowed. All traces of his cocky bravado were gone in the face of this challenge. "We'll see."

After that sort of creepy proclamation, Fuji could only hope that Inui would crush Wakato.

The brunet's hopes were brought to fruition in ten minutes.

Fifteen minutes found him staring at the scoreboard dejectedly. The formalities were over and done with, ("Seishun Kokou has won three matches to zero and will advance to the next round!") but the numbers were still up: 7-5. 6-4. 6-1.

The four spots left open for Singles Two and One remained blank. Fuji sighed in resignation. It had been a good, interesting match, but now it was over, they had won, and he hadn't gotten to play against Shinjou Reijii. A shame, really, he thought as he grabbed his bag. I had wanted to test myself against "Deep Impulse." I suppose there's nothing for it, though.

He caught up to the team, who were all in high spirits thanks to their advancement.

"Where to now?" he asked the group as a whole with his customary smile.

Giant grins broke out on Momo and Kikumaru's faces. "Kawamura-senpai's, of course!" exclaimed the former.

"Yep! We're going to make it just in time to see Ochibi's match, nya!"

Man, what was with the mega-paragraphs this chapter? You'd think I would know, seeing as I wrote them.

Oh, I know it sounds kinda spoiled, but I got my first flame and… well, what else can you say? It wasn't fun. The person was upset at what happened to Ryoma a few chapters back. I expected this, but most of you stuck to, "Oh poor Ryoma!" etc. What I got just now, however, was a fricking death threat. Anywho, the point is, what every single author says: "DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ." If your complaints aren't constructive, or at the very least rational, please keep them to yourself.

*Sigh* Thank you to all who reviewed constructively, because I've been getting some really sweet, long reviews lately and from some new people, too. I really do appreciate it.

… You thought I wasn't going to give you this, didn't you? Eheheeee…

~Omake~

Fuji had an issue. He was trying to focus on Ryoma's match, but there was quite a bit of noise and activity that the television had to contend with.

"Hot! Water! Water! Damn it, Fuji-senpai, how do you eat that crap?"

"Ah, Momo, are you okay? Did you steal Fuji's sushi again?"

"Oishi! Come back, nya! Momo-chan can get his own water!"

"Okay kiddos, I got this great drinking game. It's called-"

"No!"

He didn't react to Momo's theft, knowing that the sushi itself had a built-in anti-theft system, so to speak. He didn't even care about Ryoga's attempt to get the team to play a drinking game. All he was paying attention to was on the screen mounted in the corner of the room. There, the image of Ryoma was playing a nameless Frenchman (granted, it was from twelve hours ago). It was a relief to see his boyfriend, healthy and unstoppable, out of reach though he may be.

That is, until the tennis ball collided squarely with the small boy's chest.

He gasped and sat bolt upright. The heads of everyone in the room snapped towards him at the unusually expressive display. Their gazes followed his, and as the surprised commentators called for a replay, their eyes widened in horror.

"That bastard!" yelled Kikumaru, being the first to break the deathly silence. He shot to his feet, closely followed by Oishi.

"Is Echizen okay?"

The mother hen's question was, for once, perfectly reasonable. The teenager still lay where he had been thrown, spread eagled on his back. Slowly, though, he got to his feet again. After that, the match went quickly. Even though he seemed to be perfectly fine, Ryoma had apparently taken offense at the harm to his person. If he had been beating his opponent earlier, he was obliterating him now.

"That's a relief…" sighed Oishi, sinking back into his seat. "When I saw where that hit, I thought… well, you know."

Kikumaru and Momo nodded, and even Kaidoh and Tezuka had slight hints of relief glinting in their eyes. Fuji, on the other hand, was even more concerned than before.

Ryoma wouldn't have been quite so quick and clean if he was truly angry with the man, and he wasn't the type to get that upset over being knocked down once. No, something else had happened.

A close up of Ryoma leaving the courts enveloped the screen. The boy was walking too fast. With a moment's search, Fuji discovered why. It was nearly impossible to see on the already crimson background, but sure enough, there was a dark, fist-sized splotch on Ryoma's abdomen.

"Blood?" he murmured to himself, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

Ryoma had popped a stitch. That was why he had been in such a rush, and that was why he had taken so long to get back up. The image of Reyer's face flashed up on the screen, and Fuji found himself mentally repeating Kikumaru's earlier sentiment. That bastard…

He glanced at Ryoga and Inui, who, judging by the looks on their faces, had figured it out as well. Without a word, he whipped out his phone, stepped away from the crowd and pressed a number on speed dial.

Four impossibly long rings later, he heard a click signaling that his call had gotten through.

"Do you know what time it is?" demanded a furious, groggy voice in English.

"Is he okay?" Fuji asked in a steely tone that left no room for argument. Ryoga glanced over at the harshly spoken words, which Fuji had said in English.

A yelp of surprise sounded on the other line. "F-Fuji!" Kevin sounded considerably more lucid than he did moments ago. "You saw that?"

The brunet didn't deign to respond, letting his cold silence speak for him.

"Well damn. Please, please, please don't kill me! It wasn't my fault, I swear to god! The idiot just kept playing!"

"Is. He. Okay?"

"Yes, yes, he's fine. He needed a transfusion, but he's fine now. I gave him a juice box and told him to shut up and take a nap." The American was regaining his senses and his confidence as he realized that Fuji might let him live.

The genius sighed. "That's good. I'd hate to think of what would happen if he was hurt while in your care." Fuji could practically see the following wince taking place across the globe.

"Ah… Well, that's-"

"Because, you know, he's very important to both me and Ryoga-san. If he got hurt… Well, Ryoga might begin to think up some interesting work outs for you to take his mind off of it, and I might remember that I know five different ways to get into your room, ne?"

"Er…"

~Owari~