Washed Up

A/N: more backstory, set when Momo and Kaidoh meet up again after the last log!

Authors: Celianna (Momo) & Happiestwhen (Kaidoh)

Rating: K+

Events leading up to this log:
- Momo moves to his new home and never sees Kaidoh (or K-chan in his mind) again
- Kaidoh tries to act more like Momo to stand up for himself, getting increasingly more grumpy to deflect people's teasing
- Momo gets into tennis somewhere along the way, Kaidoh too
- Momo decides to attend Seigaku, he's heard it had a famous tennis club
- Kaidoh joins Seigaku as well

Date: April, 2003

Momoshiro Takeshi, at age twelve, thinks he's the best.

He has an impeccable amount of energy stored up, and years ago, one of his uncles suggested to release that energy through tennis. Tennis was not something Momoshiro had ever really had an affinity for, nor had it ever crossed his mind as something he should try out. But Momoshiro has liked all sorts of sports throughout his young life; from basketball, to baseball, to soccer … anything with a ball in it, really. Except for tennis, until he tried it out … and found it he actually really liked it.

And he was pretty damn good at it too. Momoshiro never does things half-assed, he goes all out with all of his energy, and people naturally flock towards him and he makes all these new friends. It's awesome. Tennis is awesome.

So when he decided to join the tennis club straight away on his first day at middle school, Momoshiro figured it was only a matter of time till he'd make friends again.

After all, who could resist his natural charm, his spiked hair, and his friendly smile? He was going to own this Seishun Gakuen school.

"Don!" says Momoshiro with an arrogant glint in his eyes. He's just beaten one of the second years of the tennis club at a tennis match. They are no match for him. He should be a regular, in his humble opinion, despite being told first years don't join regulars.

Well, whatever. Momoshiro will get there, they will all fall for his inevitable charm. Momoshiro Takeshi gets what he wants, and he wants a spot as a regular on the Seigaku tennis team. Because he's awesome, and obviously everyone would want him there. Even that stoic looking boy with the glasses—apparently the captain—will want him on their team.

"I can't believe he's just a first year …" growls his opponent, a second year.

"Okay, next challenger!" Momoshiro yells out enthusiastically. He looks around for another person to step up to the plate and play a game of tennis with him, when his eyes scan over the fence. There's a small crowd gathered around it, having been watching his match before, all dressed in black uniforms.

See? People naturally flock to him, he's got fans already. Momoshiro shows them all a confident grin.

Kaidoh has pushed himself through the crowd of older, taller students, right up to the court fence, so he can get a good look at this supposedly really talented first year.

And he does get a good look at him. Mostly because it's kind of hard to miss him really, what with that grin, spread wide across his face, and hair spiked up tall on top of his head. Kaidoh kind of thinks it looks like he spray-painted blades of grass and glued them onto his head, but at least he seems to spend more time playing tennis than he does on his hair, because he's just beaten the guy across the court—a second year, the other students are saying—and he made it look easy.

That alone is enough to hold Kaidoh's attention and make his eyes widen. Is this the level he can expect from the Seigaku tennis club? How many other first years can play like that? Kaidoh suddenly feels like he doesn't have any time to waste; he wants to be just as good, if not better. They're both new here, small fish in a big, intimidating pond, but this kid is already making an impression and Kaidoh isn't about to get left in the dust.

His fingers clench around the strap on his bag. He wants to accept this first year's challenge to play, but he also doesn't want his first game on the Seigaku courts to be a defeat. Not when this guy is looking so confident and happy in a way that makes Kaidoh's pulse leap. It would be a terrible first impression and Kaidoh is nervous enough as it is, starting the new school, all on his own.

He hasn't been playing tennis for very long, and it's been something he's had to work at, train for, rather than something that he simply naturally excels at. He's gotten good, though. Really good, in fact. Probably as good as this other first year. Definitely better than the second year he just rather sorrily defeated. He wants to use this fresh start to show this new school what he's made of.

Kaidoh looks through the chain links of the fence at the boy, who's still smiling, looking around for his next game. Kaidoh doesn't smile back, because he feels weird when he does, but he feels kind of excited all the same. He wonders who this boy is, maybe they'll practice together at tennis club this afternoon. Kaidoh doesn't even know his name, but already sees him as a new challenge. The first of many, Kaidoh hopes. It makes him want to get even stronger. There's a whole world out there to take on.

Somewhere a bell rings and the crowd starts to dissipate, leaving Kaidoh standing alone at the fence. The defeated second year sulks off the court and back to the tennis clubroom, and Kaidoh thinks he should probably get going as well.

Momoshiro is just about to leave as well, when he spots the lone student still standing at the fence. He immediately smiles, his posture perking up, and he enthusiastically waves at him. After all, anyone who watches him play is his fan, and he must treat his fans nicely.

Kaidoh blinks in surprise, and then raises his hand lamely to return the greeting. Why do people like waving to each other anyway? Kaidoh always feels awkward doing it, and thinks there must be some better way to say hello. But he wants to make a good impression with the other tennis club members, especially those he considers to be potential opponents.

The spiky haired boy simply chuckles at the other student, recognizing that he's a first year just like him, then he gives him another big smile, before he dashes away to the clubroom to get changed. It's time to actually attend classes, later today he can practice more tennis, and make some friends, and play against other people, and gain fans. Yes, Momoshiro is looking forward to it; his middle school life will be awesome. Nothing can go wrong. And he'll make loads of new friends too.

Momoshiro doesn't even remember half of his classes by the end of the day, it was mostly just introductions, and those are boring anyway. He already got along with a lot of students in the class, with people offering to eat lunch with him. See, people swarm to him. They always have. It makes Momoshiro feel all bubbly and happy. Like he has to show off to them, to impress them.

And what better way to do that than playing tennis?

After classes are over, and it's already 4 PM in the afternoon, Momoshiro happily goes to the tennis courts and changes into his new uniform. Or well, these are just his regular gym clothes, but hey, it's new to him—it's different from elementary school. He sees a bunch of older students wearing these blue and white jerseys, each have the words Seigaku Tennis Club embedded in them; they are the regulars. The cream of the crop. That's what Momoshiro aspires to be; the best of the best. Just imagine the attention he'll get for being a regular … Momoshiro is excited to show off his skills and become one of them.

Except, first years cannot become regulars. Or at least, no one has ever become a regular as a first year, as Momoshiro has been told. Well, that just means he'll be the first, right? That makes it even better.

"Alright, I'll beat you all, you'll see! I'll join the regulars!" Momoshiro exclaims to anyone who will listen. He's already holding a racket in his hand, and he's got a fist high up in the air; he's ready for a new challenge.

Except he didn't quite notice the person behind him, and he sort of knocks his elbow in their face. Woops.

"Oh, my bad, didn't see you there," says Momoshiro as he turns around. "No hard feelings, right?"

Kaidoh didn't expect to suddenly have an elbow jabbed into his cheek and flinches back in irritation. His eyes narrow, a kind of defensive reflex, and he lets out a low hiss of air. He's about to say something when he realizes the person who knocked into him is the same first year from before.

His eyes widen for a second then narrow again as he grumbles something about how he should watch where he's going, and then Kaidoh bends down to pull his own racket out of his bag.

What kind of weird sound is that boy making? Momoshiro stares at him for a second, a weird and confused expression on his face. He seemed to be the same height as him, and he's wearing this weird bandana. Momoshiro wonders if he's any good at tennis if he's pulling out his racket.

"Hey," Momoshiro calls out to him, then nudges him in the side with his racket. "Wanna play?"

Kaidoh glares and side-steps away from the other boy's racket. What's his problem? The way he keeps hitting him like that ... is he trying to play a match or pick a fight?

But Kaidoh had been wanting to play him. In fact, he'd been thinking about it all through his classes today. He wants to know if he can beat this other boy. He wants to know which one of them is stronger.

"Sure," he agrees, and his fingers curl tighter around his racket.

Momoshiro grins at him. "I'm Momoshiro Takeshi, and I'm going to secure a spot on the regular team!" He looks the other boy over again, he looks a little scary. "What's your name?"

"Kaidoh Kaoru," Kaidoh says curtly, and then narrows his eyes in challenge and adds, "I saw you playing earlier. You're not bad, but I can beat you."

Immediately, Momoshiro puffs out his chest in an arrogant boast. "You mean you can try. No one beats the amazing and super great Momoshiro Takeshi in tennis." Seriously, no one did.

Kaidoh scowls. "I won't need to try. I'll just do it." Something about that smug expression is really getting under Kaidoh's skin and he feels the need to bite back with words that are laced with just as much confidence. He only hopes he'll have the skills to back it up once they start playing.

"I guess we'll find out then," says Momoshiro, the grin never leaving his face. He's feeling confident, he's going to win this He's going to win everything, and be the most popular guy in school.

And hey, maybe they can be tennis buddies, who knows. Momoshiro would like one.

Momoshiro is already thinking of things to say when he wins as he walks across the court to get into position. What can he say that won't seem like he's rubbing it in this Kaidoh person's face. Perhaps 'I'm just better than you are' or maybe 'you're just not good enough' then again 'it's okay, no one wins against me anyway'. Yeah, that's probably the best way to console someone who lost; it's not their fault, Momoshiro is just awesome and unbeatable.

Well, at least, that's what Momoshiro thought. He's never really had a hard time with any of his previous tennis matches. He's had two years of experience as well! But right now, as he volleys the ball back and forth with this Kaidoh—seeing the same intensity in his eyes as well, that drive, that urge, he doesn't want to lose. And Momoshiro obviously doesn't want to either.

So why is he not winning? Even if his dunk smash can score him some points, then Kaidoh simply does this weird move and the ball swirls around in the air and goes into the opposite direction. Like a sneaky little snake who changed his mind at the last second.

Momoshiro grows more irritated, yet excited, the longer this goes on. His legs feel heavy, his muscles are aching, and his heart is pounding—but he's feeling good. It's a challenge.

Momoshiro Takeshi has never had a challenge before. But he likes it, and it shows on his face; he wants to beat this Kaidoh boy.

Yet before the match could come to a conclusion, they're interrupted.

"First years aren't allowed to play matches like this yet!"

Momoshiro stops dead in his tracks, and lets the ball fly right by him. He looks at the person who is yelling at him, telling them to get off the court. First years can't play like this? What kind of stupid rule is that? He wants to finish this, he was winning too! He looks over at Kaidoh, feeling annoyed and kind of agitated that their match was cut short.

Well, next time then.

"You there, why don't you go clean up this equipment. And you there, bandana boy, pick up these balls."

Momoshiro grumbles and goes to put his racket away in his bag, then goes to clean up whatever the other boy told him to clean. He looks over at Kaidoh, he wants to ask him if they can finish up later, maybe play some street tennis if they're not allowed to play here. It was a pretty intense match, and Momoshiro is looking forward to play with him again, to finish it, to win.

And then they can be tennis buddies. Yeah, that sounds great. Momoshiro can't wait, and he eagerly puts away some boxes on the ground and places them back inside the clubhouse.

Kaidoh is a little annoyed that he's been given the task of picking up balls—he really thinks Momoshiro got it easier—because there are dozens scattered all over the court by now, but he obediently starts to gather them up and place them in the ball basket. At least he feels like he's being a productive member of the club, but he would much rather be continuing his game with Momoshiro.

It was pretty exciting, and yeah, it was a challenge too, but Kaidoh feels like he was really holding his own. In fact, he thinks if they'd continued until the end, he probably would have even won. At least it temporarily wiped that smirk off Momoshiro's face, which is enough to make Kaidoh feel kind of satisfied.

He drops a handful of balls into the basket and they clatter against the metal with a thunk. Sure, cleaning up the courts isn't exactly what he had in mind when he joined tennis club, but Kaidoh can appreciate the hierarchy, and he knows that he has to work his way up. Besides, he's sure he'll be a regular soon.

Momoshiro is done pretty quickly, he didn't really have much to do aside from bring back a few baskets and nets. He sees Kaidoh, who is still crouched down on the floor picking up balls, and Momoshiro thinks he'll be friendly and help him with his 'punishment'.

With a cheerful smile, he hops over to Kaidoh and snatches away the ball Kaidoh was going for. He grins at Kaidoh, before throwing it into the metal basket. There. He helped.

Kaidoh can't help but glare. Does Momoshiro think Kaidoh can't handle this on his own? As if to demonstrate that he's perfectly capable, Kaidoh grabs four tennis balls at once and pitches them all into the basket. Only, one of them misses. He hisses, annoyed with himself, and retrieves the ball from the ground and throws it in again. He avoids looking at Momoshiro as he does so, trying to act like he did that on purpose.

What's he trying to prove? Momoshiro crinkles up his nose at him; he was just trying to be friendly! It's like he's telling Momoshiro he doesn't want his help. He narrows his eyes at him, bends down, and scoops up a bunch of balls in his reach. He walks over to the basket and drops them all in.

There, whether he wants Momoshiro's help or not, he's going to do it anyway. It's what tennis buddies do.

Suddenly picking up balls feels like a competition and Kaidoh doesn't want to lose. He furiously rolls all the balls within his reach toward him, like he's claiming them as his territory. He's going to pick them all up. Momoshiro can back off.

What is wrong with this boy!? Momoshiro huffs at him, then crawls across the floor to get more balls. He's only trying to help! Has this boy never heard of friends helping each other? He huffs again, and simply starts collecting all the balls across the courts before Kaidoh can, and it's starting to feel like a silly little competition, whereas all he wanted to do, was try to make friends.

Kaidoh picks up his pace, throwing balls into the basket like he's racing against a stopwatch. Why won't Momoshiro just leave him alone? What if the senpai come back and see that Kaidoh's getting help like this on something he was supposed to do on his own? They might think he's too much of a weakling to join the regulars, and Kaidoh Kaoru is anything but weak. He hisses, his fingers digging irritatedly into the tennis ball he's holding.

Momoshiro drops the balls into the basket, looking up at Kaidoh who is making that weird noise again. Seriously, what is wrong with him? Is he mentally retarded? Maybe … Regardless of his mental state, Momoshiro still rushes to pick up the rest of the balls to prove that he can be a good friend. They continue to do this for another minute, until all balls have been picked up, and Momoshiro has lost sense of what he was doing. now he simply wants to get the most balls, because Kaidoh is some weird hissy prick.

"That's mine!" Momoshiro yells out as they both reach for the last ball. He growls at him.

Kaidoh glares at him in frustration. "No, it's mine," he growls back. "I saw it first."

"I saw it first!" Momoshiro argues back. He pushes away Kaidoh's hand and tries to grab the ball.

Kaidoh grabs the ball right back, and suddenly, they've both got their fingers around it, pulling it back and forth between them, neither one wanting to give it up. Kaidoh isn't sure why it's so important that he be the one to get the last ball, but it's no longer really about the tennis ball to him. It's a matter of pride. He doesn't need anyone helping him, especially not some weird smiley kid with dumb hair.

Tennis balls aren't really the easiest thing to fight over though—they're not easy for two people to grip like a rope in tug-of-war—and soon Kaidoh's fingers slip, and Momoshiro's do too, and the ball pops up into the air between them, suspended for a moment before falling back down with a light bounce. Kaidoh lunges for it at the same time Momoshiro does and their heads collide, which makes Kaidoh cringe in pain.

But he's the one holding the ball, and he throws it into the basket, feeling triumphant.

Take that, Momoshiro, he thinks.

"Bastard," Momoshiro grumbles at him.

This means war.

And it should have been that way, except at night when he's in bed, Momoshiro feels sort of guilty. What if Kaidoh didn't like his help? What if it's because he hit him in the face with his elbow? That sort of diminishes his chances to be tennis buddies with him. No wonder he was so cranky at him when they picked up those balls together; he was probably in constant pain from that blow to the face. Alright, it's decided, Momoshiro will try to apologize next thing in the morning.

So he greets Kaidoh at morning practice, smile plastered on his face.

"Morning!" Momoshiro chirps.

Kaidoh looks up from where he was tugging on the strings of his racket face, testing the tension. Oh. It's that Momoshiro kid from the day before. He looks really happy, and Kaidoh's expression twists into a grimace as he replies, "Good morning."

He can't tell if Momoshiro is being nice, or if it's another challenge; maybe he's teasing him. He hopes Momoshiro hasn't decided that Kaidoh is helpless and needs his help for everything they do in tennis club. Kaidoh isn't. That would be really annoying.

"Do you like wearing those?" Momoshiro asks. He points to the bandana on Kaidoh's head.

Kaidoh's fingers reach up behind his neck to tighten the knot in the cloth. "Yeah," he says with a shrug. "I guess. What about it?"

"Nothing, looks cool. You wear them all the time when you practice tennis?" Momoshiro is curious if he thinks bandanas are important to him. Like maybe a good luck charm.

Kaidoh nods. "When I'm doing any kind of physical training, I do." It's become sort of a habit these past few months—they make him feel tough, and serious, and it's nice to not have hair flopping all over his head when he runs or plays. If Momoshiro thinks they look cool too, then maybe he's not so bad …They'd look really stupid over his dumb spiky hair though, so he'd better not try to show up to practice wearing one.

Momoshiro gives him a smirk. "Oh, you do training on your own?" he asks. Interesting. If this first year is doing some kind of training besides tennis practice, then maybe Momoshiro should work extra hard as well. After all, he has to stay in shape, and he certainly can't let a bandana boy beat him at that.

Kaidoh hisses. "I started doing some running. It's supposed to build up stamina and endurance." His voice is confident like he knows what he's talking about, like he's some kind of fitness expert and not just a twelve-year-old who only took up jogging a few months ago to try and better his chances in middle school tennis. Well, he's still probably more of an expert at it than Momoshiro. And if he isn't, then he'll become one. He's not going to lose to this guy.

"Why do you keep doing that," Momoshiro interjects. "That hissing thing, what are you, a snake?" Momoshiro chuckles. What a strange guy. "Or do you have asthma?"

Kaidoh glares. He doesn't sound like he has asthma! What a jerk. "I'm not a snake," he says flatly. That much should be obvious.

Momoshiro pokes Kaidoh in his side, as if to test that he wasn't covered in snake scales. "So, asthma? Then you shouldn't be playing tennis, you know."

"I don't have asthma either!" Kaidoh protests, flinching away from Momoshiro's hand. This guy is way too touchy. Kaidoh hisses again. He's feeling irritated, he can't help it.

"Haha, what is it then? Were you a snake in your past life? Haha, your name should be Mamushi!" Momoshiro laughs at Kaidoh's weird hissing sounds, this boy is funny and weird. He'd rather not have weird and hissing fans though.

"That sounds stupid," Kaidoh says grumpily, and tries to pretend he's really busy fiddling with his racket. He doesn't want to talk to someone who's just going to laugh and call him names.

"Really? I think it sounds awesome! The Viper! Hehehe. You'll be Mamushi, my sidekick, and I'll be Super Great Awesome Momoshiro, who will become a regular at this club!" Momoshiro puts an arm around Kaidoh and gives him a friendly noogie on his bandana. They can definitely be tennis buddies!

Kaidoh shrugs Momoshiro's arm off of him and scowls. "I'm no one's sidekick. If anyone's becoming a regular, it'll be me!"

"Nah, I don't think they'll let anyone join with breathing problems, but it's okay, you can train with me!" Momoshiro points to himself with a big, bright smile.

"My breathing is just fine," Kaidoh snarls, and lets out a long, annoyed huff as if to demonstrate. "And I don't need anyone to train with."

"But isn't it more fun with someone else?" Momoshiro doesn't think it's fun to be training alone at all.

Kaidoh looks at Momoshiro, with his dumb smile and spiky hair. Fun? With this guy? Kaidoh isn't so sure about that. Besides … "My training is really difficult," he lies.

"I'm sure I could handle it," Momoshiro replies. He can handle anything, nothing is too hard on him! He then suddenly looks up when he hears something. "Oh, they're calling us, let's get to practice, Mamushi!"

"Don't call me that," Kaidoh replies curtly, but then the scowl smoothes off his face—he doesn't want his senpai to think he's not happy to be there in tennis club or something—and he jogs out to meet up with the rest of the team.

And they do practice really hard, Momoshiro is disappointed he still can't play a match against Kaidoh, to continue from yesterday, but maybe they can do it sometime later. He notices Kaidoh does that hissy thing a lot during practice, it's kind of funny. Momoshiro might have egged him on a little bit more, trying to get him to hiss again, by 'accidentally' throwing a ball at his head. Well, it's not like Kaidoh knew it was him! But is was funny. He should probably not try to mess around with his tennis buddy too much, if they're planning on playing with each other.

Momoshiro is the first to enter the clubhouse to dress back into his uniform once practice is over. He managed to pick up all his balls before Kaidoh, and left with a smug smile on his face. As he grabs his own bag, he almost trips over Kaidoh's, which is lying besides the lockers. Well, that's stupid, what's that doing there? Momoshiro glares at it for a bit until he sees something peeking out of the open bag; a flash of red.

"Can't hurt to look …" Momoshiro eagerly bends down and takes the small cloth out of the bag; it's a bandana. Cool. It's got white little swirls around the entire thing.

Hmm …

Momoshiro looks around, his eyes narrowed, and he clutches the bandana close to his chest. Seeing no one else around, he stretches the cloth between his hands. It does look cool. He wants to try out wearing it as well! So Momoshiro—completely forgetting about his spiked up hair—covers it around his head. When his spikes brush against the fabric, Momoshiro winces and realizes his mistake. He quickly pulls it off; it's stained with gel now.

Oh crap, now Kaidoh will know he went through his stuff and tried on his bandana. Oh shit, oh shit.

Uhm.

Momoshiro quickly looks around for something to clean it with. He sees a bunch of cleaning supplies on the top shelf, and he quickly climbs the thing to bring down a white bottle with sparkles on it. Surely, this will contain some kind of soap. He clambers down the dresser and exits the clubhouse as if his ass is on fire, quickly running towards the sink. No one is still around, they're busy cleaning up equipment on the tennis courts. Good. Momoshiro turns the faucet, and lets water splash onto the bandana in the sink. He quickly pulls off the cap of the bottle and squirts whatever is inside onto the cloth.

Then, he squishes it and mushes it around into a ball, trying to get the soap into the bandana. He's gotta get the gel stain out, otherwise Kaidoh will know! And hey, while he's at it, he might as well do a thorough cleaning job, and he massages the fabric into the soap, which sort of stings his fingers. When the stinging starts to hurt too much, Momoshiro pulls the bandana away from the sink and he wrings out the water. Then he washes his own hands, and dashes back to the clubroom.

Where he sees Kaidoh, standing over his bag, looking pissed. Uh-oh. That isn't good. Momoshiro swallows and tries to flap out the bandana into the air, trying to dry it ultra fast, but life doesn't work that way.

Kaidoh's fingers clench into fists at his sides. Where the hell is his red bandana? Did someone steal it? On the second day of practice, no less? His jaw feels tight and his eyes look like narrow slits. He whirls around and … sees Momoshiro, looking guilty and clutching a sopping wet red piece of cloth in his hand.

Immediately Kaidoh lunges for it and grabs it out of a startled Momoshiro's fingers.

"What the hell?!" Kaidoh explodes, holding the bandana up in front of him like it's a damning piece of evidence. It smells of bleach, and when Kaidoh examines it more closely, he sees to his horror that the pattern on it has completely faded off. "Are you the one who did this?" he demands in a low, dangerous tone, even though the answer seems obvious from Momoshiro's expression.

"I … I …" Momoshiro feels like he's in a bind. No matter what he'll say will sound bad. He was honestly just trying to clean it! Oh, when did the pattern start to rub off … is that why his hands were stinging with the soap? "... Didn't mean to?" he squeaks out. There goes his chance to having a tennis buddy.

Kaidoh can't even think, he's so angry. This guy, this asshole … What was wrong with him, going through Kaidoh's things and ruining one of his favorite bandanas?! Does he think it's some kind of funny joke? Kaidoh isn't laughing. Instead, he's practically seething. His fingers grab at the front of Momoshiro's shirt and he starts to shake him angrily by the collar.

"You better apologize, dumbass!" the words tumble out of Kaidoh's mouth. He's never called anyone that before, but he can't remember to be polite right now, he's too irritated.

Momoshiro flinches back, but then he narrows his eyes at Kaidoh in return. "Why do I have to apologize!?" Because he ruined the bandana, duh. "I didn't do it on purpose!" He reaches for Kaidoh's collar as well, because he can't look like Kaidoh's getting the upper hand here, because that's stupid.

"And it's just some stupid bandana," Momoshiro growls out.

Kaidoh pulls harder on Momoshiro's collar. "You're the one who's stupid!" he snarls back.

"No, you are, stupid Mamushi!" Momoshiro yells back at him. He starts pulling Kaidoh closer, feeling his own anger boil up inside of him. Tennis buddies? Hah! More like eternal rivals!

"Stop getting so close, idiot!" Kaidoh growls, but he doesn't let go. He feels like his pulse is pounding in his neck; he wants to kick Momoshiro's ass. He's not about to back down, not until Momoshiro apologizes for what he did to Kaidoh's bandana. He owes him a new one!

"Then stop grabbing my shirt, asshole!" As if to illustrate this, Momoshiro shoves at Kaidoh's chest, and he stumbles back, crashing against the metal locker behind him, and suddenly a casket on top of it filled with balls starts spilling out and falling on their heads.

"Ow!" Momoshiro quickly shields his head after the first blow, crouching down on the floor with his hands above his head like there's an earthquake. But then the balls stop, bouncing around on the floor. He looks over at Kaidoh, his eyes a bit surprised.

Kaidoh's eyes are wide too—well, of course they'd be, one of those stupid balls hit him right in the forehead—but then they narrow again and he hisses. "Moron," he grumbles, and is about to turn and follow his natural instinct to clean up the mess when one of the seniors calls at them both from the doorway.

"No fighting in the club room! Both of you, go run laps!"

Kaidoh looks up, his face heating with guilt, and then turns back to Momoshiro to glare at him. This is all his fault.

Momoshiro simply huffs at Kaidoh. It's his fault for starting it! He then punches his arm, and runs out of the clubhouse, to go run his stupid laps.

From this day forward, Momoshiro won't ever try to be tennis buddies with Kaidoh again.

He doesn't like that Mamushi at all.