Disclaimer: I've said it before, I'll say it again: not mine!

This Means War

Kondo

After Ayame's calculator trick, she seemed to settle down for a few weeks, which was good for the tennis team, because of the upcoming tournament. Our first games were against an unseated school, and we won with ease. But since Tezuka is our captain, we still had to train obscenely hard because we 'could not let our guard down.' Either way, the other team had nearly given up before the match had started, so it didn't exactly stretch our abilities.

Ayame's momentary calm was probably due largely to the fact that she was up to her eyes in training for karate – she was testing to become a second degree Dan, or second degree black belt, in a few days, and literally had about one hundred techniques, defensive maneuvers, and forms to memorize and practice. Between the regular's tennis and Ayame's karate, their exchange of pranks came to a halt as winter began to set in. It doesn't snow much here, but it does get overcast and thunderstorms become frequent.

Those precious weeks of silence were not to continue, however. After practice one day, as we were all recovering from Inui Juice Deluxe Version 5.4, Eiji got an evil glint in his eye. "Ne, ne," he said, "We need to prank Aya-chan again now!"

Knowing there was nothing I could do; I simply shook my head and watched, waiting to see what they came up with. It seemed, though, that they were running dry on ideas.

"We could steal her books," Momo suggested, and I stared at him.

"Nothing that will actually affect her grades and such," I insisted. I was amused enough now to sit by and watch for the most part, but you had to draw the line somewhere. "Can't you just try to give her Inui Juice again or something?"

They paused for a moment and considered. "That's not very original!" Eiji pouted.

Kaidou, having witnessed the entire story without saying anything, finally added his thoughts on the tennis team's war. "You're distracting yourselves, senpai. Why are you wasting time on an angry girl?" I looked at him, silently thanking the heavens that I not only had someone else on my side, but I had someone with a very intimidating face on my side.

"Baka viper," Momo said, "You're too boring. Go away." So of course Kaidou glared at him and was about to insult him back, but luckily, before they got into a yelling match, Inui intervened. Not in the typical way, but it worked, none the less.

"You have poor focus, Momoshiro-kun;" Inui said thoughtfully, "The precision of your tennis would improve if your attention span was more flexible." I looked at Inui, not entirely sure if I should be afraid or grateful.

"Everyone," Fuji said, "I couldn't help but over hear your conversation . . ."

"BS," I interrupted him "You've been nearly on the other side of the courts, you wouldn't have heard if you weren't listening." I instantly started questioning the intelligence of my statement, however, because I was on the receiving end of Fuji's patented death glare as he continued.

"Anyway, I happen to know that Inui has been concocting a new juice. Why not use Ayame as a . . . test subject, Inui?" Fuji smiled. I couldn't help but wonder why he knew Inui was making a new juice, but decided that he wasn't going to take kindly to any questioning, especially after my previous interruption.

Inui pulled out a plastic bottle. "I believe that this will be an excellent opportunity, especially since Ayame-san has taken to carrying around water to all of her classes."

Sipping idly at my own water, I couldn't help but imagine what Ayame's face would look like if she was put into contact with Inui Juice. She didn't have a particularly sensitive tongue, she ate liberal amounts of wasabi and ginger with out batting an eye, but nor was she completely immune, like Fuji. And she also had a deep-seated hatred of vegetables.

"We'll need a distraction," Fuji decided, "To get a hold of her water bottle."

Eiji grinned suddenly. "Leave it to me, nya!" he declared, "I know how to cause a little chaos. I'll - . ."

I abruptly slammed my hand over Eiji's mouth, pointing discreetly over his shoulder. Tezuka stood by us, watching us sternly. "I don't want to run anymore laps," I said by way of apology.

Inui abruptly appeared by my side, and I jumped. He smiled at me, "There a 57% chance that Tezuka has already heard us. There is an 89% chance that, even if he did hear us, he won't do anything." My eyebrows shot up, considering.

"The calculator," I nodded in agreement. I didn't really think Tezuka would be that petty, but nor was I clueless enough to argue with Inui. A smirk pulled itself across my face; I had to commend Ayame if she was really able to irritate our stoic captain. "Anyway, Eiji," I said turning to him, "What exactly are you planning to do?"

Eiji grinned broadly, looking as though he were about to start bouncing. "You'll see!" he announced, and wouldn't say another word about it. In retrospect, I think we definitely should have figured out what he was planning before we gave it the okay.

A day had passed, and there had been no opportunity to access Ayame's water bottle. I was poking at my lunch, udon, and doing some last minute cramming for my biology test when an ear splitting snapping sound pierced the air. Everyone looked up, some people hurrying towards the noise to see what it was, some backing away. There were a few more earth shattering bangs, and then everything went quiet.

I started to cough violently, choking on the broth I'd inhaled when I'd been startled from the noise. Eiji bounded over to my table as everyone else surged out of the lunchroom. Ayame, looking definitely panicky, moved away from the windowsill where she had perched, chewing onigiri, to see what the commotion was about.

"Well?" Eiji said laughingly, "Good enough, Taro-chan?" I drank from my water bottle and cleared my throat, making sure I could breathe before looking at him in utter disbelief.

"What did you do, Eiji?!" I demanded, "It sounded like a bomb went off. You didn't really hurt anything, did you?" He giggled, which wasn't a good sign. "Eiji?" I said insistently.

"Not a bomb," he grinned, "Fire crackers!" I stared at him, and slowly set my drink down on the table.

"Eiji. You were supposed to cause a distraction, no blow up the school," I said, then added, "You're going to get into huge trouble, you know."

"Don't worry," Eiji said brightly, "Nobody saw me, and I didn't actually vandalize anything. I sent them off the roof." He grinned at me, tipping his head to one side. Meanwhile, I was looking around to make sure nobody heard him – and that the fire alarm wasn't suddenly about to go off.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Inui walk over the windowsill where Ayame had been eating, and picked up her water bottle. He screwed the cap off, added his . . . health juice . . . and replaced the bottle. Then he walked over towards Eiji and me, his glasses flashing eerily.

"And now we wait," Inui said ominously. I shivered involuntarily, torn between curious and horrified.

Eiji was right about one thing, at least – nobody knew who had set off the firecrackers, and he didn't get in trouble at all. Quite surprising, what people can do when they feel like it – I had always thought Momo to be more the devious type, but Eiji was proving quite proficient himself.

Ayame didn't actually come into contact with the juice until last period, which was Japanese History today. She was obviously not interested in what we were learning about, and I could practically see the martial arts techniques she was performing in her mind. I repressed a smile as she stuck the lip of her bottle in her mouth, biting it for a moment before drinking.

The reaction was instantaneous. There was a clunk as the grey plastic of the water bottle hit the desk, and she stood up so quickly she knocked her chair down behind her. She started coughing then; her hand clamped on her mouth, and tore from the room. Sensei stared at the swinging door for a moment. "Ah . . . Yuki-san, please go make sure she's okay," sensei said, speaking to a quiet genius that always sat at the front of the class. Yuki wordlessly stood up, hurrying after Ayame.

I glanced at Inui, who had pulled his notebook out and was now writing in it as thought his life depended on it. A small smile flickered across my face, wishing that Eiji could have been here. Feeling eyes on my back, I turned to Tezuka, who I sat next to. There was an obvious question in his eyes: what did you do?

"Don't worry," I hissed at him, "It's only Inui Juice. She'll be okay in a few minutes."

If only that had been true.

At that moment Yuki burst through the door, saying franticly, "Sensei, she's having trouble breathing and I can't get her to move!" I heard the gasping coughs coming from the hallway, and my pencil snapped as my hand abruptly clenched. Sensei hurried out of the room, and I took advantage of the moment to leave my seat and go to Inui's.

"Are there peanuts in that stuff?" I said quietly, pointing to the water bottle. Inui, looking as shocked as Inui can look, nodded.

He looked at his notebook. "I have no data on a peanut allergy," he said.

I looked at him like he'd lost his mind. Was that really all he could worry about? "Well, now you do," I said crossly, grabbing Ayame's school bag and hurrying into the hallway.

She was slumped against the wall, and teachers who had heard the rasping coughing through their doors had surrounded her. Her face was pale, and one hand clutched at her throat, which I knew was swelling and closing off her bronchial tubes. I pushed the teachers aside, holding out the school bag. "Where do you keep the medicine?" I asked, and she pointed to the front pocket between coughs. Undoing the zipper of the bag, I quickly looked through the pocket until I found something that looked distinctly like an inhaler. I held it out to her, and Ayame used it several time until the wracking coughs eased. As soon as she was able, she started glaring at me. The effect was both diminished and increased by the fact her eyes were still watering from coughing.

She knew exactly what had happened. Sorry, I thought, I know it's my fault. All I said was, "Maybe you should go home early."

"My parents are busy," she said, "They'd have to come and sign me out. There's not much time left of school anyway." I frowned slightly; did she really think her parents were so busy they couldn't take care of their own sick child?

"I could call my mother," I said, not really relishing the thought, but willing anyway. "You shouldn't walk home." She shook head, muttered something about feeling perfectly fine and tried to stand, only to slide back down the wall.

I pulled out my phone with a sigh, and dialed my home number. "Mom? Can you come to school and get Ayame? Her parents are busy, and she's sick . . ."

"Um . . . alright," my mother answered, "I'll be right over . . ?"

Poor her, she was obviously confused. Then, who wouldn't be? "Thank you," I told her, and snapped it shut, Ayame's dark eyes still angrily locked on me. I looked her direction, but didn't meet her gaze. "She's coming to pick you up."

"Fine," Ayame said coldly, taking her bag and standing. This time she managed to stay up. "Thank you." Her words dripped with hidden venom. I swallowed, and made a mental note to barricade my window tonight.

Ayame

Stupid regulars. Stupid Inui. Stupid, stupid, stupid Kondo. I knew they hadn't meant to try to kill me, but Kondo at least should have checked if there were nuts before I nearly passed out from lack of oxygen. I opened the door to my house moodily – Kondo's mother had brought me home a few minutes ago.

My first stop was my father's office, to let him know that I had had an allergy attack and was home early. He had made sure that I was breathing normally, and then hurried back to his work. Typical.

Next I went to my room. I grabbed all of my school stuff and made my way through my house and into the sterile white halls of the hospital. Knocking on Sachiko's door, I heard her call to enter and settled on the desk in the corner of the room.

"You're early," she observed, "You're not skipping class, are you?" I pretended to be shocked that she would think such a thing, then made a face and explained.

"The regular team fed me Inui Juice, which had some kind of peanut product in it," I sighed, "I'm allergic to peanuts and got sick. Kondo made me get sent home early. Probably feels guilty. And he should," I added grumpily.

Sachiko frowned worriedly; I snickered at how much she looked like her brother. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yup, I'm okay now," I said, "But I don't suppose I could convince you to help me with my math homework?"

Sachiko laughed, "Just a minute. There's something I wanted to discuss with you first." She suddenly seemed serious, and I blinked at her. "I took a test at school, and I can move up a grade into my first year of high school if I want. I'd like to attend Seishun High, and I've already completed, and passed the entrance exams. Since Shuichiro doesn't go to Seishun, I'd need someone else to help me around."

I knew what she was asking now. Sachiko was in a wheelchair nearly all the time, and there were stairs in the school. Smiling, I told her, "Of course. It's no trouble . . . and it's a convenient excuse when I'm late for class."

She grinned back, "I can tolerate that. So you'll help me next week, then?" I raised my eyebrows.

"So soon?" I asked, "Did you have this all arranged before you even asked for my help?" Sachiko just smiled innocently, making me snort. She acted sugar-sweet, but was actually quite manipulative. "Hmmm . . . ." I thought for a moment, "If you're transferring to Seishun, then . . . there might be something you can help me with. I'll be taking my revenge on Kondo by myself, but the rest of the team . . ." I paused for a moment, sorting out my half-formed plots, "is going to pay separately."

She looked surprised for a moment, and then said sweetly, "Just tell me what I can do to help."

Our conversation was interrupted at that moment by the entrance of Oishi, who had come to visit. "Hey, Sachiko-chan," he said, easing open the door, "How are you?" Then he looked at me, surprised. "I didn't know you were friends with Ayame-san." We'd met once before, at Taka's restraunt. I was surprised he rememberd me.

"My parents own this hospital," I explained quickly, "I'll go now. I'm taking you up on that promise about math, though," I warned.

Sachiko held one hand up to her forehead. "Aye, aye," she smiled, and I gathered my things and left her to visit her brother.

The upcoming test in karate was important. Really it was. So I should have been paying attention, and not just absentmindedly running through old forms and thinking about something completely unrelated to karate. But if I always did was supposed to do, I just wouldn't be me, now would I?

So, as I slowly ran through forms I'd had memorized months ago, the only thing on my mind was my revenge. I watched Kondo out of the corner of my eye – he was on the other side of the dojo, training one of the lower belts. We were not on speaking terms.

I thought back through the past five years that I'd known Kondo, searching for a fear, an opening, something I could use to humiliate him – and at first I came up blank. Kondo was such a genial person; he got along with everyone he met. Nobody had even tried to humiliate him.

"Ayame!" a voice barked behind me, "Focus!" It was Arakaki-sensei, the master of the dojo.

"Hai . . ." I sighed, trying not to sound too bored. Unfortunately, I didn't succeed. Arakaki-sensei grabbed my collar, and I automatically snapped one foot out behind me towards his pelvis.

"Hmmm . . . ." he said, having dodged my blow. "Are you angry at somebody, Ayame?" I pouted slightly and pointed at Kondo, which made him laugh.

"Why is that so funny?" I scowled, "He gave me peanuts by mistake. I could have died." Yes, I was being a bit melodramatic, and yes, he was also the one who gave me the medicine so I didn't die, but if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have needed the medicine in the first place. In my book, that eliminates any good deeds performed after.

"You're acting like lovers again," he snickered at me, and I hit him. Hard. "Ouch. That's more like it," he winced and smiled at the same time, "Put that same energy towards your training, now, ne?"

I growled irritably under my breath and stalked off to finish my forms. There was one good thing that had come from that particular conversation, though – now I knew exactly how I was going to humiliate Kondo.

Arigato, sensei, I thought mockingly to myself.

I meandered around the town, until I found a small shop that sold greeting cards and the like. Weaving through the isles, I found the small boxes of chocolates traditionally given out on Valentine's Day or White Day, and grabbed the fanciest, most girlish one present.

The lady at the counter smiled at me as I bought it, and said "Special someone's birthday?"

I smirked, "Not exactly." If only she knew. Something this pink and flirty – Kondo would never trace it back to me. And this was only the beginning. Wandering around the shops for awhile, I found a couple of very large, gushing, glittery pink cards, one card that sang, and a small collection of red and pink roses which I shoved into my bag.

Musing to myself the best way to get the stuff onto Kondo's desk and into his locker without anyone seeing me, I made my way home.

I stopped by Sachiko's room on my way back, to see if she had any ideas on the subject of the cards. Unfortunately, she didn't have any experience with that sort of thing – but thought it was hilarious, none the less, after I explained everything.

"I'll need you to help me with the team," I told her, "You won't need to move on your own or anything, but I need another set of hands. And Kazuko," I mourned with a sigh, "is grounded." Somehow her parents, who were actually quite strict, had caught wind of one of her pranks involving tacks and chairs, and she was under almost constant monitoring by her older brother, who was in his fourth and final year of high school.

"Umm . . ." Sachiko said, "What will we be doing, exactly?" I considered for a minute, and then chose a couple of plans that fit together rather nicely.

"We're going to lock them in the locker room," I said, "And paint the tennis balls purple." It was my intention to get the paint from my parents under the guise of needing it for a school project, since spray paint can be expensive. I was usually innocent enough for them to not monitor my actions closely. It was only one can, so they had no reason to be suspicious of my taking up graffiti, or something like that.

"You're really into the girly thing today, aren't you?" she asked. I nodded, and shrugged.

"There is no better way to ruin a man's pride," I declared, "Than treating him like a four-year-old girl." Sachiko considered for a moment, and then snickered. "I just need you to make sure they A) stay in the locker room, and B) something weird doesn't happen that makes the locked door a fire hazard."

"Got it," Sachiko told me. I nodded, and left.

I snuck into school early on Friday, and left a gushy card and the chocolates on Kondo's desk in first period. This was achieved by using a bobby pin I'd used to hold back my bangs to jimmy the lock on the classroom door, and leaving to inconspicuously wait in the courtyard before seeing Kondo at the gate and following him to class.

Since this was the first day, I didn't expect much. A few titters, some suspicious looks at different girls in the classroom. This was about what I got, though I was pleased by the blatant blush that had crawled up his neck and over his face when he read the card. It gave him a sort of fluorescent appearance that made me snicker.

A few girls, the kind that were at the top of the school's gossip grapevine, even had the guts to ask me if I'd been the one who left them, to which I coolly responded, "I'm not talking to him right now. Whichever fool left those there can do what they please."

My demeanor made the girls edge away warily, deciding that I'd had nothing to do with it. Perfect. Kondo had flushed once more, and stuffed the card and chocolates into his bag; he would throw them away when there was no chance that the giver was watching. Always the gentleman.

Sensei started to teach us about the relationships between the width of triangles and the radius of proportional circles, and I watched the regulars out of the corner of my eye. Fuji was smiling, staring at the board but clearly not really paying attention to what was on it. Tezuka was diligently taking notes, like the model student he is, though I strongly suspected that he didn't need them. Inui . . . appeared to be watching me back. I shivered and turned back to the board, making an attempt to understand the lesson. I didn't get it, so I'd have Sachiko teach it to me later.

In Biology we got our tests from last week back that day. I got a forty-eight. "Drat," I muttered. I was usually able to hold about a B+ average in science, but I'd been sick for the beginning of the last unit and hadn't understood it at all. Sensei kept referring back to things he'd taught in the early days of the lesson in reference to what we were learning, so I didn't even really get the parts I'd been in class for. I'd just been praying for seventy percent, or a passing grade.

The bell rang, and sensei asked me to stay. He pointed to my test. "I find it quite interesting that the only problems you got right were the multiple choice ones," he told me, "Did you just guess through the whole test?"

"Eh he he . . ." I said, rubbing the back of my head sheepishly. I was exceptionally good at guessing on multiple choice questions: you could usually get a pretty good idea from the way the problem was asked, the teacher giving the test, and the way the test was formatted. It's quite the talent, if I do say so myself. I'd picked it up sometime in the seventh grade, when I'd been too distracted to take tests properly.

Sensei sighed at me and shook his head. "You should consider some kind tutoring. This was an important concept, and you clearly don't understand it."

"My family is busy;" I said a little self-consciously, "Having a tutor might be difficult."

"Then you need to think about asking one of your classmates to explain it over lunch," he said frankly. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach as I began to feel like the victim of a bad fan-girl plot device. "You're quite well acquainted with Kondo Taro, correct? He got the second highest score in the class."

"Um . . ." I considered, trying to find the least childish way to explain my current problem with that idea, "I know him, but we don't really get along . . ." I tried, hoping he didn't notice that we'd gotten along perfectly well a week ago.

He raised an eyebrow at me, but to his credit took it in stride. "Tezuka-san, then? He had the highest score and I'm sure he'll be willing to teach you."

"That's even worse!" I shouted, then taking in the teacher's expression, a mix of shock and irritation, waved one hand in front of my face frantically and tried to backpedal. "I mean, could I not . . . ? Please?"

Sensei looked at me crossly, and folded his arms across his chest. "Why?" he said, "I realized that if you don't want to work with Kondo-san, you're angry at him for the moment. I don't want to pry, that's your business – but I see no reason why you shouldn't want to work with Tezuka-san. You barely know him."

"I don't get along well with strangers?" I tried, but there was no conviction in my tone.

"Tezuka it is, then," he said, making note of it in a planner. "I'll let him know on Monday, then." I nodded, because I didn't have a choice. Taking my school supplies, I slowly walked out into the hall.

"Kami-sama, help me," I moaned to myself. Oh, well. Maybe I'd be able to take advantage of this opprotunity, do something to throw Tezuka off. He was awfully fun to disturb, after all. Trying to keep my mind on all the horrible things I could do if he became my tutor instead of on all the horrible details I'd have to memorize if he became my tutor, I hurried towards my next class.

For the record, I was late.

A/N: Finally finished! Yes, this is a filler chapter. Sorry about that, hopefully it won't last long. No, this story is not going to turn into Tezuka/OC. I can promise that, because I don't write romance of my own accord. And I even have a good excuse for why this took so long to post: my computer, which as noted in the previous chapter, has been threatening to break all week, finally kicked the bucked last week. It took awhile to get it running again, when an essay for school inturrupted my writing still further. But I did fix my computer (hopefully) and I am now posting. Reviews are greatly appreciated, as are suggestions. I like hearing other people's ideas, but I can't guanantee I'll use them if I can't find a way to write them. Hopefully I'll post again before too long.