It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's…

…an update!

Regarding the song selections: I realize that I made some of the characters pick twice. That's an error on my part. The original files have been lost though, so just regard Fuji and Chitose as doing the Swan Lake piece, and Yuushi and Yagyuu doing Gay or European. Sorry about the inconvenience! Continuity becomes an issue when updates are so far in between.

The song selection continued. Sanada and Inui were assigned to Perfidia, Kaido and Yanagi assigned to California Girls, Gin and Shishido assigned to Fairytale, by Taylor Swift, which compelled Shishido to throw a mini-temper tantrum and storm off into The Corner of Shame for a few minutes. Yuuji and Oishi were assigned to Teenage Dream.

"Mukahi. You next," Atobe commanded.

"No." Gakuto folded his arms across his chest and glared. "I'm going to end up with something stupid. I know it."

"I can assign you something stupid instead," Yukimura offered charitably.

Atobe shook his head. "No need, Yukimura," he said. He marched up to Gakuto and shoved the hat in his face. Sanada gasped at the horror his sacred hat had to endure, while Gakuto choked on a slip of paper that had accidentally made its way into his trachea. Atobe, satisfied, stepped back. "That will be your song."

"The one that he gagged on?" Yuushi inquired.

"Yes," said Atobe.

Yuushi helped him pull out the sheet of paper while Gakuto gasped for air, curled up in the fetal position on the ground. His eyebrows drew together. "There's no song name, Atobe. There's just a YouTube link."

Shiraishi chuckled. "Yes. We know."

Gin looked confused. "What's the song, then?"

"It's a circus tune," Tezuka said.

"What?"

"A circus tune is a tune," Tezuka clarified, "from a circus."

Gakuto feebly sat up, his hand clutching at his chest in an attempt to regulate his breathing. "What?"

Tezuka sighed. "A tune," he explained patiently, "is an assortment of notes which create a melodic—"

"We know what a tune is!"

"Oh. I apologize. A circus is a—"

"NO!" Gakuto barked. "Why are we singing to a circus tune! You can't sing to a circus tune! It's a goddamned circus tune! WHY?" On his knees, he raised his hands dramatically to the captains. A breeze ruffled his hair and clothes dramatically. And he stared dramatically. While there was silence. Dramatically.

Yukimura looked torn and heartbroken, on the verge of tears.

Then he beamed as if he weren't going to burst into tears a second ago.

And that's okay.

Because he's Yukimura.

"Well," he said, "why not?"

And that was that.

Atobe peered into the hat. "There's one piece of paper left," he observed.

Shiraishi folded his arms. "But that would mean that there's one pair left, and I can't think of… hmm. I'm pretty sure there aren't any pairs left. Is anyone left?"

"Did we have an extra slip by accident?" Yukimura offered.

"That is strange," Tezuka agreed.

"WE'RE RIGHT HERE," Hiyoshi and Zaizen shouted in unison, outraged. "FOR THE LOVE OF TENNIS. COME ON."

"Oh!" Yukimura looked surprised. "Huh. What do you know."

Atobe gloriously handed them the last slip. "There you are," he said, grandiose.

Hiyoshi stared at the sheet of paper. "Call Me Maybe," he said blankly. "That Carly Rae song?"

Marui frowned. "How are we supposed to call you if we don't know who you are?" he demanded.

Eiji tilted his head inquisitively. "Yeah, actually," he said. "Who are you?"

Then Hiyoshi and Zaizen jumped off a bridge.

JUST KIDDING. They didn't. They couldn't have because there were no bridges in the secret area of top secret secretness that Atobe had led them to. And also they couldn't have because then there wouldn't be a story, and that would be bad.

So instead they just mourned in a corner while the captains commenced with instructions.

"Let's explain how this is going to work." Yukimura fixed an intense stare on the regulars, who gulped collectively. "You have two days to prepare a skit to your song. It has to be amusing. I like to be amused."

"You may NOT insult any of the captains," Atobe added. "NO INSULTING. You will get points deducted and then we will all hate you. And we'll make your lives miserable. We all have ways of making your lives miserable. We are captains. Do not underestimate our sadistic powers."

"Atobe will direct you to a special area where you can work on your skits. You will be fed. However, as food is not conducive to the atmosphere of this story, it will rarely be mentioned and thus you should aim to eat as little as possible and do as much work as possible so that there is more to talk about in the story." Shiraishi nodded decisively, as if he hadn't broken the fourth wall. Twice.

"Basically we don't care whether you eat or starve so long as people are entertained," Yukimura offered. "Namely us."

Tezuka just stood and looked intimidating.

"But if we don't eat, wouldn't that just make it harder for us to put on a good show?" Momo pointed out.

"I don't care." Atobe folded his arms petulantly.

"But—"

"Don't care."

"What if—"

"Zero caring."

"Then—"

"NO. THE CORNER OF SHAME. RIGHT NOW." Atobe pointed to some isolated area in the area of isolated isolation. "GO."

Momo balked. "But that's far," he whined. "Isn't there an isolated area in this area of isolated isolation that's closer?"

"If it were closer, it wouldn't be as isolated," Kikumaru pointed out helpfully. Momo glared daggers. "What?" Kikumaru looked confused. "What'd I say?"

"Go," Atobe commanded.

Momo sulked away.

"Actually, come back," Atobe said.

Momo, standing from one hundred thousand meters away, shouted back, "Why couldn't you say that before I walked one hundred thousand meters?"

"Actually, how did you even walk one hundred thousand meters in the span of two seconds?" Jirou pondered.

"And how can you hear us from one hundred thousand meters away?" Marui added.

"And how can we hear you?" Kaido demanded.

Momo thought about that for a second. "Huh. Good question."

Atobe snapped his fingers and Momo zipped back one hundred meters to the group. "We will now board ore-sama's helicopter," he announced, "and arrive to our next top secret destination."

"A helicopter for fifty people?" Gakuto asked doubtfully.

"Do you doubt my wealth?" Atobe demanded, offended. "Do you doubt the expanse of ore-sama's property? Do you doubt the number of mares I own? Do you doubt the number of square kilomiles that compose my bedroom? Do you doubt the vast number of tennis courts I own? Do you doubt it? DO YOU?"

Gakuto stepped back and held his hands up, looking kind of weirded out. "No, I don't. Chill. It's just that no helicopter could possibly—"

"Stop doubting," Atobe commanded. "Right now."

"But—"

Atobe snapped his fingers.

And Gakuto stopped doubting.

Because that's how it works.

And then the helicopter landed. The regulars gasped. It was…