A/N: Don't own.
It took almost a full minute for Satomi to regain her ability to speak; Jinko was still gawking at the sight before them. "Um, Kotoko, did Mrs. Irie leave any balloons in the party store? Because I can predict a lot of little kids being disappointed if their birthdays are this week."
The girl sighed, "Yes, she does tend to take things to the extreme."
Jinko finally found her voice. "Extreme doesn't describe…this!" Her arm waved towards a highly colorful construction of PVC pipe festooned with latex and Mylar balloons. With the way the orbs were swaying in the slight breeze, the heavy bricks anchoring the framework appeared to be necessary.
"She and our fathers took off before dawn with two tanks of helium to inflate them all." She grinned at the boy running to meet them. "Yuuki-kun had to come to school with us."
"Onee-chan," he greeted her, "did you see? It's even better than her mock-up drawings!"
Naoki spoke trenchantly behind them. "'Better' isn't necessarily the word I would have chosen."
"At least there wasn't time for her to order the giant balloons with our faces printed on them," Kotoko reminded him.
He suppressed a shudder and pointed to the posters and life-size stand-ups tied to the uprights. "We are still on display, however."
"Yes, but there is no chance of personalized balloons freaking out the astronauts on the International Space Station if they broke free."
Mrs. Irie paused in her instructions to the men when she noticed them. "Yoo-hoo!" she called and waved them over. "How do you like it, ladies?"
"I have no words," Satomi replied.
"Yeah," agreed Jinko.
"Delightful!" She clapped her hands. "Now, I want you to make yourselves at home in our little celebratory corner here. We have folding chairs and tray tables, as I brought lots of cold drinks and snacks to tide us over."
"You really planned this out, didn't you, Mrs. Irie?" Jinko asked.
"Of course! This is Onii-chan's and Kotoko-chan's last year of high school and I wanted to help them celebrate."
"Kill me now," Naoki muttered.
Satomi glanced around at the other family groups. "Well, Class F usually makes a party of this day, and you certainly showed them how."
In truth, the other parents had thought they were showing support for their children until they had arrived to witness the completion of the Irie-Aihara plot. Now their hand-painted signs and assortment of cowbells made it appear they hadn't even put in an effort.
"So, Irie-san," Jinko rubbed hands together, "did I hear you say that you had food?"
Gintaro and Dozo flanked their friend as they observed the martial arts display. Dozo's face, which had been crunched in concentration, turned to Kinnosuke during the break. "So, Kin, you heard anything lately about your guy The Mouse?"
"Don't say it that way, ya great lump," he growled. "And, no, there ain't been any sightings at competitions since early this year. I hope he's okay and not injured."
"Maybe he moved to America and became a movie star," suggested Gintaro.
"What?!" he screeched.
"Well," he shrugged, "it worked for Bruce Lee."
"Nah," he waved him off, "Nezumi's all about the purity of the art. He's not the kind to sell out."
"Just sayin', there's lotsa money to be made in Hollywood," Gintaro argued.
"Guys, guys," Dozo interrupted when they appeared to be heading towards fisticuffs, "did you notice Aihara up there?"
"Aw, man," Gintaro moaned, "don't remind him! That's the whole reason we're over here instead of watching everyone runnin' around like chickens with their heads chopped off in the scavenger hunt."
"Yeah," Kinnosuke's eyes roved over the group until he located Kotoko, who appeared to be guiding another into a new move. "She's great, ain't she?"
"'Great'," Dozo muttered before raising his voice. "Don't you think the way she moves is sort of like The Mouse?"
His friend appeared shell-shocked. "The Mouse…and my Kotoko?"
"No-o-o," he drawled, "that's not what I was saying."
"Oh," his face brightened, "they probably trained together. Mebbe she can get me an autograph."
"See if he'll give you three." Gintaro pointed to each in turn. "One for each of us. We were all fans, you know."
"Yeah, that's a great plan," Kinnosuke enthused. "Just remember that Kotoko is mine."
"Kin!" Dozo almost yelled in his ear. "Do you–either of you–even remember Nezumi's real name?"
"Um-m," Kinnosuke rubbed his chin while Gintaro scratched his head, "it was Aira-somethin', wasn't it?"
"Yeah. Aira-Ko, Kin. His name was Aira-Ko. Now, doesn't that ring any bells?"
"Wow!" He grasped the hair on both sides of his head and pulled it taut. "My Kotoko is his sister! Oh my Buddha, I'm gonna be the brother-in-law of The Mouse! Oh," he paced, "I've gotta get back into shape. He's gonna train me, and I'll join the circuit instead of him! I know! I'll run a few extra laps between races. Oh, why wait? I'll start now!" And he sped away.
"Hey, Dozo, doesn't Kin realize that he needs all his energy for his events? Because he's the one who was all gung-ho for the festival and nagging everyone to win."
He shook his head. "Well, he's off on another wild hare again, and you know how far we'd get if we tried to stop him."
"True that. I don't know about you, but I'm going to snag some shade before the shot put competition."
"Go ahead," he advised. "I'm gonna stay here and watch a little more."
Gintaro chuckled. "Just don't let Kin think you're after his girl."
"'His' girl," Dozo mused, "and I'm still not sure he's not after the guy."
"Sorry, Irie-kun," Satomi smiled at him, "I thought you had the race sewn up until Kin-chan got his second wind."
"Yeah, it's not his usual style," Jinko backed her up. "Normally he'd run flat out just to show how great he is."
"Are you talking about the Big Baka?" Yuuki popped up with another nickname. "I saw him jogging all around the school before the race."
Kotoko's brow creased. "That doesn't make any sense. Of all the people in Class F, he would know the schedule."
Naoki grinned. "Well, he doesn't have a history of making good decisions, does he?"
Satomi and Jinko snorted while Kotoko rolled her eyes. "Indeed. And he is still on the roster for the relay. If he has overextended himself, a critical defeat may be imminent."
"The relay is worth the most points," Jinko pointed out. "If he blows it, the rest of the class will crucify him for all of his nagging this past month."
"Honestly," Satomi sighed, "if it weren't for our girl Kotoko here in the race, I'd abandon all class loyalty and cheer for another team."
"Onii-chan's, maybe?" Yuuki asked with a grin.
Mrs. Irie sidled up the group. "Did I hear you young people discussing the family rivalry?"
"Ma, it's not a rivalry," Naoki whined.
"Irie Naoki!" She glared at him, hands on hips. "Two people who live under the same roof are competing against each other in an event. If that is not the definition of a rivalry, then I don't know what is."
"Neither one of us thinks of it that way," he argued.
"Um, Naoki," Kotoko shrugged apologetically, "I'm going to run my best for my class. I may not like all of its members, but I am still its representative."
"Okay!" Mrs. Irie clapped her hands decisively. "Rivalry it is! Now, for this occasion," she bustled to a plastic bin and pulled out a package, "I have made some supporting signs–"
"Oh, frack," Naoki moaned.
"–which, in this still-summerlike weather, can also be used as fans." She thrust into each one's hands a balsa stick with a cardboard circle; on one side was Kotoko's face with Naoki's on the flip side. "Now, just hold up the image of the Irie-Aihara household member whom you support and wave it."
Jinko turned it over. "I see a problem here. The people in front of us will think we're supporting one of them, but those behind us will think the opposite."
"And that's the beauty of it." The young people goggled at the glowing matron as she slowly meshed her fingers into a basket. "Rivalry and solidarity. Unity and division. Yin and yang."
"Infinite diversity in infinite combinations," Naoki murmured. Yuuki snickered, being the only one who understood the reference.
"Is that some New Age stuff?" Satomi asked him.
"No, just a popular culture reference. Look," he handed the sign back to his mother, "I'm in the race; I won't be able to juggle this and the baton. But, hey," he waved his arm to indicate the crowd, "go to town, Ma."
"Hmm." Jinko spun the fan around. "How about we do Kotoko during third leg and Irie-kun in fourth?"
"That would mean Kin-chan would see us supporting his rival," Satomi warned.
Yuuki smirked. "Your point being…?"
"It would totally piss him off!" Jinko doubled over in laughter. "Let's do it!"
"Okay," her friend reluctantly agreed, "but let's also swap out the first and second runners."
"All right. Change for each?"
"I suppose so," she sighed.
"And Kotoko," Jinko ordered, "make sure you join us by the finish line after your leg. We'll hold onto your sign and save you a place, because you don't want to miss the show."
"Can I go with you while you do this?" Yuuki pleaded.
"Why not?" Satomi said, once Mrs. Irie had nodded her approval. "At least we'll have Mini-Martial-Artist to back up Kotoko when Kin-chan goes berserk."
Satomi's prediction proved oh-so-true. Despite having almost exhausted himself in his 'practices' to impress his future brother-in-law, he was still holding his own against Naoki until he saw a cluster of Naoki-faced signs near the finish line. His aggravation upon recognizing members of Class F holding them up put only a slight hitch in his get-along, but seeing Kotoko with them caused him to stop short in his lane. Although he quickly recovered, it was enough for Naoki to pass him and break the tape at the finish line.
Even before the cheering died down, he made a beeline for the Irie crew. Kotoko, aware of his movements, warned the others to make a strategic retreat.
"Idiot he may be," scoffed Jinko, "but what's he gonna do in front of all these folks?"
"I don't know," Satomi plucked her friend's tee-shirt nervously, "he's really ticked off."
Kotoko, meanwhile, led Yuuki away and pointed him in the direction of their parents. "Get to safety while I try to talk sense to those two."
Unfortunately, they too had come to the conclusion that retreat was the best option, and the rest of the crowd caught hold of the mood. Kotoko, when she turned, faced a stampede headed in her direction. Unable to dodge so many, she spun to her best effort and had almost made it to the safety of some bushes when the domino effect occurred as Kinnosuke reached the backs of the stumble-running people. Knocked off-balance, she fell face down, raising her forearms to protect her face from the ground, still dry from the summer heat. She then tried to crawl the rest of the way, only to have the breath crushed from her lungs when a heavy foot landed on her back. She ascertained the one responsible when she recognized Kinnosuke's bellow of "Ya traitors!"
Through her pain she registered multiple scuffles and an assortment of slaps and thumps before whistles and shouts from school administration began to bring some order to the chaos. Suddenly she heard voices surrounding her, gasps from Jinko and Satomi, concerned cries from Yuuki, and an agonized scream from Mrs. Irie. Naoki, however, made his presence felt when a gentle hand touched her shoulder. "Kotoko?" he asked softly. "Where do you hurt?"
Her training refused to let her answer, "Everywhere"–although she was tempted–so she merely replied, "Breathe…ouch."
"Ah," he nodded after carefully rolling her over, "that is likely caused by the dusty footprint on your back. Let me know when you've recovered a bit and I'll help you up."
She blinked her eyes in acquiescence before looking around at the circle of people surrounding her. Noticing the concern on their faces, which now included Mr. Aihara, she gasped with effort, "It's not as bad as it looks, Otosan."
Her statement did not calm her father one bit. "What do you mean, daughter? You look as if you were trampled by a herd of water buffaloes!"
"No," she breathed, "just Ikezawa."
Jinko rose swiftly. "Kin-chan! You baka! Where are you hiding?"
The boy began jumping up and down inside the corral of teachers who had managed to restore order. "Oi! Over here! Whatcha want with me, ya disloyal punk?"
"You stomped on our friend!" Satomi joined in.
"Huh," he snorted, "whoever it was deserved it for not cheerin' on Class F."
"It was my Onee-chan, you gibbering gibbon!" Yuuki screamed as he stepped between the two girls.
"Wot? Kotoko's hurt?" Kinnosuke began jostling his way towards them. "Babe, babe, don't die on me! Your Kin-chan's comin'!"
Kotoko grasped Naoki's shirt. "Out of here," she whispered urgently.
"Sure." He stood in one swift move, deadlifting her from the ground so that she lay in his arms. "Medical tent, now! Make way," he called.
"No-o-o!" Kinnosuke wailed. "Ya Irie bastard, bring back my girl! Ow! Ow! Ow!" He began shouting as Satomi, Jinko, Yuuki, and various other students who had been pushed and shoved in the recent fracas began smacking him. He could only watch in dismay as Kotoko was carried away by who was now his greatest enemy, trailed by said enemy's mother. "Ko-to-ko!" he cried in vain.
"How is she?" Mrs. Irie wrung her hands as the medical technician disposed of her surgical gloves.
"A few scrapes on her palms, forearms, and face. Her ribs are not broken but the bruising will give her pain for a couple of days if she bends too much. Her skinned knees, believe it or not, will take the longest to heal."
"In other words, she'll live," Naoki summarized.
Above Mrs. Irie's sputters about going to hospital for a second opinion, Kotoko stated, "I will be fine, Obasama. I will simply adjust my training for next week."
"Adjust–! My dear, you should rest! In bed! I am sure that some time off your feet will get you back in tip-top health."
"On the contrary, ma'am," the young woman interrupted, "Miss Aihara is correct. If she is too inactive, it will take longer for her to return to her usual training schedule."
"But that can't be right," she fretted.
"Give it up, Ma." Naoki pulled her away from where she had been seated next to Kotoko, who looked as if she was anxious to leave the medical tent.
"Yes, you are outnumbered," the girl grinned at her as she rose, "and I see Yuuki-kun peeking in, so I must reassure him that I can still train him tomorrow."
"Train, train, train," scolded the matron. "That's almost all you did last summer." Her voice trailed away as she followed her pseudo-daughter.
The technician turned after straightening the box of bandages. "Mr. Irie? Were you also injured?"
"No," Naoki's eyes shifted to the sides, "I just wanted to talk to you about how you decided on this career."
