Ending Two: Oh, What The Heck?

Skipping off to an adjoining tennis court, Eiji found Tezuka leading Fuji in some romantic lap running.

Old habits die hard, even when you're in love.

Fuji was already out of breath and panting hard, but Tezuka somehow managed to drag him along. "Keep going, Syusuke. You do want to keep your gorgeous figure, don't you?"

There was now open bewilderment on Fuji's face--not to mention utter exhaustion.

"Te--Tezuka, it's almost s--sundown. Wh--when can we s--stop?" The tensai was about ready to drop.

"How many times have I told you, call me Kunimitsu!" The captain hit Fuji playfully on the back, nearly knocking the shorter boy down. "You want to stop, Syusuke? Then let us go register for our marriage. I know this perfect church--"

Eiji distinctly saw Fuji's knees buckle. "Er, Te--Kunimitsu, I'm, um, beginning to enjoy jogging, so why don't we go on for a while more?"

"Ah, Syusuke, I knew I could instill in you a passion for running laps. Since it pleases you, let us go for another hundred round the tennis courts. I would run till I dropped for your sweet sake. I would..."

Tezuka began another long rant. It was the closest to crying that Fuji had come in a long time.

Eiji's utter delight was punctured slightly by pity for the long suffering prodigy. "Oh well, how was I to know that Tezuka mistreats even those that he loves?"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"Ah! Buchou! Uh, I uh, I..." The quaking Eiji took a step back.

"How DARE you say that I'm mistreating Syusuke? Tell him, Syusuke!" Tezuka reached out, caught Fuji's arm and threw the poor boy into Eiji's face. Literally.

Well, not really, since Fuji fell down on the way, so it was more like throwing him at Eiji's feet.

"Of--of course you haven't mistreated me, Kuni--" the battered tensai choked out, picking himself up and tottering over to a bench.

But the irate captain wasn't listening. He had grabbed Eiji by the collar and was now threatening him with a thousand laps. For starters. A thousand more if Eiji didn't make it through the first ones.

"Buchou!" Eiji whined, ready to get on his knees if necessary. "I'm sorry! I know you'd never treat any of us badly, and make us run as many laps as Syus--I mean, make us run laps. Just please, please don't--"

BANG!

"Whoa!" Tezuka had gone from furious to fainted in less than two seconds, and since he was still clutching Eiji's shirt when he dropped, Eiji was dragged down with him.

The reason for Tezukas sudden black out? Easy. The sight of Coach Ryuzaki--in a black cocktail dress--standing over the two boys holding the broom she had used to hit Tezuka over the head with, explained everything.

If Tezuka had had the time to yell out "You old witch!" before he had fainted, it would totally have been justified.

"That'll teach you not to bully my Eiji!" she snarled into the ear of what--half an hour ago--had been her most trusted tennis player. For once, the cat like boy was glad that she had shown up.

"Eiji dear, I've booked an expensive restaurant downtown where we can have dinner together! How do I look?" the coach twirled herself around.

Eiji muttered something indistinct. "Wait a moment." He ran over to Fuji. "Nya, are you ok?"

"Yeah, now that Tezuka's out cold." Fuji wiped his forehead. "Just make sure I'm out of the country when he wakes up. I don't want him killing the marriage registration officials for telling him that we're too young."

"Nya," Eiji mumbled. "I'm sure the effects of the potion won't last too long. I mean, everyone wakes up in a few hours after drinking Inui's usual juice..."

"What did you say?" Fuji's eyes snapped open. He looked at the unconscious Tezuka, who was being prodded in the ribs by his coach. "He's under the effect of Inui's vegetable juice?"

"Erm, well, kind of...though he's so like his normal self that I wonder if he's acting under free will...But he did drink the juice, so that should be why," Eiji said hurriedly, not wanting to terrorize Fuji any further.

"I think we'd better put him somewhere to sleep it out then. Preferably somewhere we can lock."

They ended up dragging the captain back into the changing room, where they left him lying on a bench. "He's the one who needs to run laps," grumbled a weary Fuji. "How he can talk to me about my figure when he's..."

Coach Ryuzaki was a little more difficult to tackle. After convincing her to slip back into her normal clothes--a big sacrifice on Eijis part, since he was the one who had to say she looked absolutely stunning in a sports jacket--they let the wine that they had found in her office do its work.

Eiji had to escort a very jumpy Fuji home before retiring back to his own house. He thought it was best not to mention Momo or Kaidoh to the tensai, who had just begun to relax.

The next morning, Fuji was outside the door when Eiji left for school. The redhead diagnosed him with a completely new illness. Tezuka-phobia.

"Fine," he said fiercely once they had reached the school gates. "I'll see how your future husband--no, just kidding, don't cry--is feeling before you come in. Now stay here and stop whimpering!"

Eiji cautiously approached his captain. "Bu--buchou...um...how are you today?"

"I'm fi--"

"Where is every one else?" Both Eiji and Tezuka jumped back at the sight of their coach. "What's the matter with you two? I'm not going to hit you over the head with a broom!"

"Ah..."

Tezuka looked mildly puzzled after the coach had left. "Surely it was a dream...she wouldn't have...and she doesn't own a cocktail dress." But then he rubbed a very visible bump on his head.

"What's the matter, buchou?" Eiji ventured.

"I've lost my memory for the whole of yesterday--"

Eiji sighed in relief.

"But I've reason to suspect that you were the cause of my splitting headache when I for some reason woke up in the changing rooms last night. Eiji, fifty laps."

Sighing again, this time for totally different reasons, Eiji began his laps. He would probably look as bad as Fuji did the day before when he finished, but at least things were back to normal.

Except, of course, the fact that he started running out of rooms, screaming, whenever anything remotely pale pink resided there.