Author's Note: Although there will be appearances and frequent mentions of other OCs as we go along, rest assured that the spotlight will not be on them. More plot in this chapter! Oh, and a special shout-out to iris and Rejar who have been consistent reviewers! And to HEHE, who has also been very kind to leave a review. You are made of pure awesome, guys.

If you haven't already noticed, I have completely disregarded the U-17 Camp. Cheers.

Trap 3
Swinging through the Grapevine

The Tennis Club looked like denizens of the underworld as they lumbered out of the tennis courts after morning practice. Yagyuu, who was usually the paragon of calm, could not deny himself the pleasure of venting out a bit of his frustration when he opened his locker, only to find that something was missing.

"I would have let yesterday's incident slide, but I still don't see my poetry book in here."

"Now, now, no need to get your panties jumbled over some haiku," Niou deadpanned as he rummaged for the book in his bag and handed it over to his doubles partner. "It's still in one piece, see?"

Yagyuu chucked the small leather book in its niche, between their Calculus and World History textbook. He tinkered with his lock for a moment, but then decided against changing his locker code since that never kept Niou from stealing his belongings, anyway. It dawned on him that he had completely let his guard down when it came to Niou, but it didn't really bug him as much as it should.

"You do know this is a case of plagiarism."

"I think the real concern is that you write really cheesy poems, Yagyuu."

The Gentleman wasn't usually one to poke his nose into other people's business, but Niou's unexpected interest on the Student Council Vice President was bugging him for some reason. The hallway was buzzing with excited freshmen when they stepped out of the locker rooms

"…heard they did it in her house after the confession…"

Yagyuu slanted a glance towards Niou whose expression was as implacable as ever. But he's known the guy for so long that even without meaning to, he becomes receptive to the smallest changes in his expression. At that moment, what must have been invisible to others, he was able to see: the nuances of joy and triumph.

"…but he looks so rough! I didn't think she would go after someone like him!"

They were nearing their corridor, the junction where they were to part ways for first period.

"I guess she's not as innocent as we thought."

Yagyuu first noticed Ono during the Opening Ceremony.

Beside the ostentatious Student Council President who was mobbed by a group of senior girls, she was a regal presence amid her peers, with her back straight, chin tucked up, and a luminescent smile as she extended her warm greetings. He was not foreign to the experience of aisatsu (1), but that fleeting moment when he stood in her line of sight and silver met hazel (2), he was struck with an intensity that left him reeling. She held his gaze for a moment or two, her smile pleasant, before the Student Council President called for her attention and whispered something in her ear.

He reeled not because he was not used to meeting someone's gaze during morning greetings—although it was a bit unusual since people would often have their eyes glued to the floor as the students walked by. He reeled not because her eyes were the brightest brown he has ever seen. He reeled because in that transient exchange, he was able to see a reflection of himself.

He distinctly remembered how his partner's smile was a notch higher than usual, how there was a dangerous glint in his eye as they sauntered past the Vice President and headed for the gymnasium that particular morning. For someone who took pride in his astuteness, he was vaguely disappointed that he overlooked something in that infinitesimal exchange.

What did he miss?

He was not as sharp as their Strategist in stringing seemingly unimportant details to form a coherent picture, probably even a far third after Yanagi and Niou, but he did notice little things, and was more receptive than the general public, especially when it came to the Trickster.

The funny thing was, over the years Yagyuu has known Niou, not much effort was exerted when it came to decoding the puzzle that was his partner. Honest to god, he did try in the beginning, but he quickly realized the futility of the task, and it later dawned on him that any grain of knowledge about his partner's line of thinking was made possible because Niou allowed it to happen. That without his consent, there would always be that impenetrable wall to jump over in order for one to truly understand Niou Masaharu.

But this did not stop Yagyuu from wondering and formulating his own conclusions. Perhaps because it was human nature to be curious and ponder, or that the concern his doubles partner warranted was by plain virtue of their friendship. In any case, he had come to accept that Niou would always be a welcome enigma ever since his partner had successfully created a dent in his routine.

And he had to admit, life had become more exciting with Niou around.

The night before school started, it was ten past twelve when he found Niou throwing pebbles outside his window, where the canopy of trees in his backyard was his friend's current shelter from the downpour. Dripping wet and looking incredibly pissed, Niou had climbed over the ledge and landed softly in his room. His partner slipped past his questions with practiced evasiveness, but one has to give Yagyuu credit that although he could not pinpoint what exactly went wrong that night—that the usually careful Trickster was sporting a huge wound on his left hand—something was definitely amiss.

Then he bore witness to the senior's confession to the Vice President. In spite of herself, Ono-senpai looked positively mortified. At first, Yagyuu wasn't sure whether it was because she was not used to grandiose declarations of love, but after hearing Kiriyama's poetry, he was able to connect the dots.

Not all of them, anyway, but enough to let him know that someone was pulling the strings.

"Niou-kun."

"What?" he said without turning to him, and instead had his gaze fixed towards the opposite end of the hallway where a familiar group of upperclassmen huddled together for their daily morning greetings.

The normal crowd of four that was stationed by the entrance was down to three that Yagyuu had to wonder whether the nasty rumors had gotten to the Vice President. He felt a wave of pity for her.

"Did anything happen with Ono-senpai?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Niou's wolfish grin confirmed his suspicions.

Yagyuu kept silent, unsure of what to make out of his partner's reply. "Apart from you stealing my poetry to get her and Kiriyama-senpai together, you seem hell-bent on making her life miserable, to put it bluntly."

He was talking to a wall, he figured, as his doubles partner simply shrugged his questions off, which irked him.

"May I remind you that the captain will not hesitate to kick you out of the team if you get into big trouble right before the tournaments."

"You have so little faith that it makes me a little disappointed," Niou cast him a curious glance.

Then,

"She's interesting," he said finally.

That seemed to be the only answer Yagyuu will get for now.

Ono was feeling mutinous as she washed off the white powder on her face, that even the sound of the sink's running water was grating on her nerves.

She didn't think there was ever a moment in her life where her temper had flared to such dangerous levels. More than the actual surprise and embarrassment she felt as everyone within a five kilometer radius suddenly fussed over her when a bag of flour exploded into her face upon opening her locker that morning, was the reality that someone had broken her code, and could possibly do it again.

She looked at her face in the mirror, her skin deathly pale now that it was free of make-up.

"…think Kiriyama-senpai performed voodoo? I heard he had Ono-senpai's hair—"

When the group of freshmen noticed her by the sink, they were quick to clamp their mouth shut and give their greetings, and at this she plastered on a smile and acknowledged them with a nod. They disappeared soon after, her smile following suit.

She was not deaf to their scandalous whispers, and was not blind to the way they regarded her as she stood by the gates and performed her duties. As for the Council, apart from Kobayashi who had badgered her all night about the truth and was, in turn, greatly disappointed by her lack of response, both Sonoda and Furuki had refrained from asking her about yesterday's incident, which spoke volumes of their respect for her privacy. She knew better than to expect the same from the rest of the student body—that was one of the pitfalls of popularity, after all—so it was not at all difficult for her to shrug everything off.

Although she has always been a stickler for routine, the tried and tested way to gain control of herself, she knew that in order to survive the dog-eat-dog world that is High School, adaptation is key.

After the shock of Kiriyama's affirmation of her so-called confession, she had quickly gone over all the possible outcomes and ways she can get herself out of the situation. (Asao was completely pushed out of the picture). But what easily stood out among all of them was the enemy she would make out of the senior if she rejected him right there and then, more so, in the presence of his biker gang.

She could only imagine the havoc that would ensue. Murphy's Law did say that, "If anything can go wrong, it will."

She then opted that playing along would be the lesser evil. After asking Kiriyama if he would be so kind to walk her home alone that day—resulting in a wave of disbelief and confusion among those who were present—she was then presented with the opportunity to get herself out of the mess once and for all.

She only had to wait for Kiriyama's answer now.

The sound of the homeroom bell reverberated throughout the corridors. She had P.E. for first period, which did nothing to improve her mood. She could feel the stares on her back, the tension in the locker room so palpable as they all seemed to weigh the options of how they were going to address her. In the most dramatic sense, it was as if yesterday's events tipped the scales out of her favor. As if being associated with Kiriyama was a disease they did not wish to catch from her.

God, people can be so stupid sometimes.

"Good morning, Ako-chan."

Kobayashi regarded her coolly, her smile a bit strained. Before she could reply, her friend had slipped past her and headed straight for her locker on the other end of the room. Ono was trying her hardest to keep the irritation from reflecting on her face, as it hit her that she would have to deal with this kind of shit for the rest of the day.

An enormous net hung over the gymnasium like a tapestry, dividing the place into eastern and western hemispheres. Freshmen boys occupied the eastern block—they were a rowdy bunch, boisterous laughter echoing off the walls of the gymnasium as they divided themselves into teams for a game of volleyball. The silver-haired bastard was not among them, but the red-head who usually tagged along Yukimura was busy chewing gum in the sidelines as his classmates fought over him. They tossed a coin and soon enough settled the matter.

"Over here!" One of her classmates called out to her.

Ono had only realized there was something iffy about her white sneakers as they ran laps around the gymnasium. When the whistle was blown, she levered her body forward for that final ten-second sprint.

And run, she did.

Her body was light, but her right foot felt heavy. One moment, she was keeping up with her peers. In the next, her body had lurched forward, uninhibited and completely helpless against the force of gravity, and fell face flat on the floor.

"Oh my god, Ono-san! Are you alright?"

All of a sudden, her classmates had sidled up beside her fallen, defeated form. They pointed out the gash on her knee and that the heel of her sneakers had come off, and it was only a matter of willpower that she was able to keep herself from punching someone on the face. It was not difficult to get herself excused from class for another excursion to the locker rooms, where after making sure she was alone, she had finally exploded in a fit of rage and thrown her tarnished pair of shoes against the wall.

Graaaaaaaaaaaargh!

She was supposed to be beyond the reach of bullying at this point! But apparently, she was not as impervious to such episodes of childishness as she thought. Although she was lacking in evidence, Ono had a very distinct feeling that the perpetrator behind yesterday's hoax was responsible for that morning's series of unfortunate events as well.

And for someone who liked to keep track of things, she had lost count of how many times she had butchered the freshman bastard in her head.

After counting to ten, she picked up the traitorous sneakers and replaced them with her more tattered pair. She was steadfast as she cleaned her wound. Then she smoothed out the strands of hair that stuck out from her previously immaculate ponytail, lest someone walked in on her and wondered whether the rumored poltergeist lurking in the faculty rooms had finally possessed her.

"Let's pair up," Kobayashi told her when she returned to the gym, in what seemed like a peace offering and perhaps a patronizing gesture after her accident.

"Okay," Ono agreed readily, making sure to smile softly and dismiss her irritation.

They were going to do basketball drills now, which made Ono wish she had not returned to class so soon.

"Hey!" Kobayashi passed her the ball, which almost slipped out of her hands.

"Hey!" she cried right back as she returned the ball and hobbled sideways, following the white line painted from one end of the court to the other. Meanwhile, she made sure to keep her limbs from interlocking as she resolved to complete the drills without breaking any bones.

"Just relax, and don't look at your feet! It's more troublesome that way," Kobayashi instructed, sounding a little friendlier than she did earlier. There was a hint of pity in her tone, which did not sit well with Ono.

"Yeah," she muttered, averting her gaze past her partner's shoulders, as if embarrassed for having been caught, but making sure to put more force in her next pass.

Kobayashi didn't seem to notice though.

Diverting her attention from her partner, she noticed that the freshmen were now in the middle of a match, and it was the red-head's service game. He spiked the ball with pinpoint precision that it landed exactly in the corner of the court. Whatever resentment she felt for the people around her was magnified as she bore witness to the reality that not only were the tennis members gods at their own game, they were also forces to be reckoned with in other sports.

Meanwhile, her biggest achievement in the field of sports was keeping herself from falling face flat on the ground as they ran laps.

"Hey!" Kobayashi huffed. They were on their third lap across the court now. "You do know I'm mad at you, right?"

A snort which vaguely passed as a whimper. "Do you believe them?" Chest pass.

"For the record, you never gave me a straight answer." Overhead pass.

A pause, as if she was mulling over telling her, then finally whispered, "Well, I'm really sorry for not telling you."

"S-so it's true!" Kobayashi gasped. "Kiriyama-senpai and you?"

Her partner had thrown the ball with more power that Ono had to scramble on her feet to catch it as she made the turn around one of the orange cones. It was a disgraceful display, she had to admit, but she could not help but feel triumphant when she managed to secure the ball in her grasp. She was burning with desire to prove herself this time, and just when she was about to throw the ball back to Kobayashi, she became blind to the other ball that hurtled past the draping net and straight towards the back of her head.

In the next moment, Ono lay in an unceremonious heap on the floor.

"Ako-chan!"

"Holy shit, Ono-senpai!"

Ono counted three small cracks on the ceiling when she opened her eyes.

"You're awake."

Seated by her bedside was Kiriyama Madoka, who despite his attempts to look intimidating, could not hide the visible flush on his cheeks. She carefully sat up from the bed, and Kiriyama was quick to support her when she faked the struggle of sitting up.

She had even faked losing consciousness when the volleyball culprit had rushed to her side and profusely apologized. But by the time Marui, whose name she just recently learned, had appeared in the junior courts, with eyes firmly shut close and her body completely unmoving, Ono had already convinced her entire class that she had fainted and would have to miss the rest of first period.

A person could only bear so much humiliation, after all.

It was a challenge to keep herself still when the freshman had volunteered to bring her to the nurse to make up for what he did. To his credit, he was very gentle when he scooped her up from the floor and carried her all the way to the infirmary, with Kobayashi in tow, who had yapped at Marui non-stop for his utter carelessness and didn't he know his senpai was already having such a shitty day?!

Props to Kobayashi for that one. Ono made a mental note to treat her to that new cake shop downtown after all the hullabaloo.

"How are you feeling?" Kiriyama asked, breaking her from her thoughts.

"I'm feeling much better. Thank you," she replied, and without wasting another moment, asked, "Have you seen the email?"

"Yeah, I saw the pictures of your notes," Kiriyama's expression soured, and added, albeit grudgingly. "Your handwriting is very pretty."

Ono has prepared for this moment, wisely ignoring the senior's mixed melancholy and anger, and plowed through.

"I'm upset that we were used as pawns, senpai, but this is the truth—"

"I'd lose face, Sakurako-san. You know that," he persisted. A moment's hesitation before he continued, "I don't understand why we can't just go out for real?"

She can list down a thousand reasons why they couldn't, beginning with she would lose face, but of course she couldn't just crush him to a pulp when she wanted to make amends. She has long mastered the art of contorting her expression however she wanted it, so at least she had that to back her up. At the moment, she was donning her most regretful and apologetic look, then whispered, hitting the final blow,

"Because I'm in love with someone else."

Kiriyama looked crushed, nonetheless.

"I'm so sorry that it has come down to this," she started, breaking the awkward silence. "But the repercussions can be minimized as long as we stick to the plan." Her voice was steady but gentle all throughout. "You have read the proposal I've sent, haven't you?"

He could only nod dumbly, and then muttered, "When I find the asshole who did all this, I'll kill him."

"Senpai!"

Ono made sure to look horrified when he said those words, in which Kiriyama was quick to retract them and assure her that no violence will take place in school grounds as long as he was in command. She thanked him heartily, which earned her a smile. She gave herself a mental pat on the back.

She would never yield the pleasure of murdering the freshman. Not to anyone, no.

"I can assume you are amenable to the terms?"

There was a long pause, as Kiriyama merely stared at her. She averted her gaze and looked at her hands, just to impress on the farce that she was keeping the awkwardness of the moment to a bare minimum. If Kiriyama was not going to concede after she counted to ten—

"Who's the guy, Sakurako-san?" When she looked at him, genuinely perplexed, he said, "The guy you're in love with."

Ono was so close to gouging her senpai's eyes out as he continued to stare at her like a kicked puppy. For someone who was dubbed The King of Shibuya, she never expected that Kiriyama would be such a pansy. Her patience was wearing thin. Instead of answering him, she reached for the phone in her pocket, punched a few buttons, and then flipped the screen towards him.

Kiriyama blanched at what he saw: it was a picture of himself playing with the puppies in the nearby animal shelter. The pups were all clamoring to him as he reached for them with a love-sick expression that would have Romeo and Juliet make a run for their money.

He finally got the hint.

"I'll leave you to rest then."

Ono's smile did not falter until the infirmary door was shut close and she was once again left to her thoughts.

The rooftop was locked during first period.

It was Music class, and there was nothing more arduous to Niou than trying to withstand an hour and a half of his classmate's obnoxious fiddling with the instruments. He did not necessarily dislike music, but he found it difficult to let the melody sift through his head when all he could hear were wails and screeches. Although it was not a general description, considering the few who played tolerably, he still would not stick around for those with abysmal playing. It was a mass murder of notes and his brain cells—it was very difficult to hear his thoughts in such an environment.

With a pin ready, he tinkered with the keyhole, and it was not long before he heard the soft click. He pushed the doors. It still would not budge. He supposed it was barred from outside.

Damn it.

Which ultimately led him to faking an upset stomach to convince the school nurse that he needed to stay in bed until the pain went away (or until Music class ended). It must have been half an hour later when he heard the scuffle outside the confines of his curtains.

"Listen, if senpai asks who's responsible, tell her it was Yagyuu, okay? If it wasn't for that god awful spike I wouldn't have—"

"Oh, for christ's sake! Just put her in bed and I'll get the ice—o-oi, be careful!"

He could tell it was Marui, and his teammate sounded vaguely distressed as he conversed with a girl whose voice he did not recognize.

Niou moved carefully and drew the curtains a little. Indeed, it was their Volley Specialist, who was currently pleading innocence to the petite junior girl he recognized as the Student Council Secretary, both too busy squabbling to notice him, then there was—

Ono.

Who lay unconscious in bed next to his.

For a girl who showed a lot of bravado, it was disconcerting to see her so lifeless.

"Shit, what if that gang leader finds out? I'm so screwed!"

He drew back the curtains and waited. After a minute or so, he heard the door shut close, and there was silence.

A sigh from the other side of the curtains.

He grinned.

So, she was awake.

He quietly lay back down in bed and stared at the clock on the wall, just letting the silence encompass them. It was fifteen minutes later when the hinges of the door creaked. A quick peek: it was Kiriyama.

His smile was even more feral as he listened quietly.

"Because I'm in love with someone else."

He has always had a knack for smelling bullshit, even if it was a mile away.

When the second silence reigned, he finally drew the curtains.

Niou had to stifle his laughter when he saw Ono's expression—she looked like she had just swallowed an entire lemon when she realized he must have heard everything, and her expression morphed into something more angry when she realized who he was. For a moment, it seemed like she was on the brink of hurling her pillow at him.

"Niou-kun." Her voice was level. Plus points to her.

"I'm flattered you know my name," he drawled, sitting up from the adjacent bed, then added just to spite her, "You seem a little under the weather, Oni-senpai."

He noticed the imperceptible downward twitch of her smile. "I was hit by a volleyball in P.E. class," she answered succinctly, ignoring the pseudo-patronizing look she was getting from him.

There was a pause. He scrutinized her, her previously long, cinnamon-colored hair now chopped short and framing her heart-shaped face. She looked a little pale, looked less chipper. But as he stared long and hard, with hopes of unnerving her, she kept the smile pleasant and positively endearing on her face.

Oho, she was insistent on keeping the charade, wasn't she?

"So, you and the gang leader, huh?"

She didn't budge. In response to Niou's taunting grin, she looked at his hand free of bandages and said, "Oh, is your hand all better now? I remember you had it all bandaged up yesterday, and I couldn't help but worry a little that you weren't able to participate in your selection matches."

Despite himself, Niou laughed softly. "You're really good at this!"

Ono had no reservations of frowning now. She leaned forward, closing the gap between them until her face was only a hair's breadth away from his, and whispered, "I will eat you alive, you little piece of shit."

As if on cue, the door slid open.

Ono was back on her side of the bed, and regarded the school nurse with a polite bow and a smile. Meanwhile, Niou looked like he had just won the lottery.

The school nurse could only wonder what they were up to as she dismissed them both for second period now that they looked like they could take on the world or something like that.

A week later, news that Kiriyama Madoka and Ono Sakurako have broken up spread like wildfire around campus. There were long-table discussions held during lunch in the cafeteria and the rooftop, and hasty conclusions why it was such a short-lived relationship whispered in passing in the hallways. It was still a topic of hot debate how they got together in the first place and what dynamics of their relationship ultimately led to its downfall.

But there was one thing consistent in the grapevine: It was Kiriyama who broke up with Ono.

Kiriyama was still as elusive as ever in public. But a couple of freshmen who had cleaning duties in the old gym every Friday afternoon recounted an experience that involved their resident gang leader; they heard peals of loud cackles and excited chatter in the deserted, and supposedly haunted, administration building behind the old gym. Instead of diving headfirst into whatever awaited them in the dark corridors of the said building, however, they waited for the usual pair of Disciplinary Committee members who made rounds in the area.

Alas, they never came.

When they were about to make a run for it, Kiriyama himself had stepped out of the building and saw them emerge from the bushes. Time seemed to stop as the King of Shibuya merely pressed his pointer finger against his lips and smiled. The freshmen quickly made gestures that they understood. Once his scowl was back on, they finally ran as if their life depended on it.

Meanwhile, Ono, who was usually a ray of sunshine, blended well with the greying paint of the walls that week. What usually was a smiling face that greeted the students in the mornings looked dismal and so unlike her that people wondered whether it was guilt overridden reflecting on her face, which would imply that their doomed relationship was her doing, or it was the great and mighty Kiriyama who played her.

Given their stark differences in disposition, the population was more inclined to lean towards the latter.

Moreover, to add insult to injury, it would appear that Ono was still the victim of bullying. She would be subject to a dose of daily horror whenever she would open her locker—the code of which she had changed twice that week. She'd also find her desk missing every morning before homeroom. Dodging whatever popped out of her locker and taking a trip down the janitor's lounge to request assistance regarding a new desk have become part of her routine, her movements already bordering on mechanical.

She was like a bamboo. Sturdy and resilient, begetting both pity and admiration.

Which was why her peers would make it a point to always invite her out for shopping or karaoke, or include her in their discussions, just to make her feel more involved and less left out. In a way, it was also to keep her from wallowing. After all, that was two failed relationships in a row, and the poor girl's heart could only take so much sadness.

The freshmen representatives, also well aware of the rumors circulating the junior and senior floors, were more eager to do their Ono-senpai's bidding during council meetings. They would volunteer and participate heartily, thinking that by doing so would lift a bit of burden off the Vice President's shoulders. The general sympathy was not limited to the students; even the teachers had consoling words to share whenever they would pass by her in the hallways.

Ono Sakurako was the center of Rikkai Dai's pity party.

But what was most noteworthy post-breakup was the sheer number of confessions she received for the past week. Initially, the male population would have reservations of asking Ono out because they were led to believe that she would not have the time of day for the likes of them. But after word had gotten out that Kiriyama had mercilessly broken her heart, they were able to gather what little courage they had and approach her.

So it was no strange sight when the sports clubs would encounter Ono with a boy under the enormous poplar tree located in the heart of Rikkai grounds, which was said to be the most ideal spot for confessions. The same thing happened over and over though: the boy would break out into a smile in front of Ono and then walk away looking downcast.

It was a daily picture painted in Rikkai.

It was a strange sight when Ono appeared on the bleachers overlooking the tennis courts one afternoon.

Niou was running laps when he first noticed her.

A couple of junior players had already flocked to her side to say their hellos. She looked up from the book she was reading, and brightened when she saw them. A friendly banter seemed to have ensued, their faces vibrant with laughter. Then it wasn't long before all three players were shooed back to practice by the captain. Ono waved at them before returning to her book.

Niou stared a few moments longer, and was finally rewarded a glance. He held her gaze, his lips twitching upward as she regarded him with a burning intensity he could imprint in his head even with his eyes closed. But it was she who yielded first, dropping his gaze as she made her way to their captain who was overseeing the practice matches in the other courts.

The corner of his mouth dropped.

Ono seemed to be explaining something to their captain, who was nodding vigorously, as if in agreement to what she was saying. He could tell she was in the middle of negotiations, with the determined set of her eyes and the beatific smile pinned on her face. A moment later, Yukimura was called in, and the three of them formed a formidable party within the tennis courts.

"Niou-kun," Yagyuu's hand lightly gripped his shoulder. "We're having practice matches with Court B now."

It did not end there, however.

Marui sauntered to where she was sitting during water break. The Volley Specialist, with hands clasped together, said something while looking apologetic. Ono was all smiles, indulgent even, as she dealt with her junior, and to Marui's extreme delight, brought out a small, elegantly-styled gold box from her backpack and offered it to him. Niou could tell that it was taking every ounce of Marui's willpower not to hug her. It must have been cake.

"I wonder if she's going to be here all afternoon," Yagyuu remarked as he pushed his glasses against the bridge of his nose. Niou was quiet as he took a swig from his water bottle. "You think she's waiting for someone?"

At this, Niou scoffed.

Yagyuu quirked an eyebrow at his friend, who simply resumed his drinking. "You beg to differ?"

"I think," Niou started, his eyes blazing as he looked at her laughing at something Marui said. "…something weird is going to happen soon."

.

.

.

.

.

.

Night had fallen upon the school grounds, but training was still in full-swing. The Kanto Prefectural was fast-approaching, and an unspoken certainty exists that training would be more rigorous than usual. It was a given, an accepted truth, just like how the sun rises from the east and sets in the west. There was no whining or complaints. Just maximum effort and dedication poured into every swing of their racket, into every ball they smashed into the ground. If it meant they would have to run five hundred laps around the court to outlast all their opponents, they'd do it to ascertain their victory.

Always win, Rikkai.

That was the rule of the Kings.

However, just as practice matches commenced in all courts of the stadium, the lights flickered, dimmed, and suddenly the tennis courts were bathed in darkness.

"The power's out!"

Their captain's subsequent roar echoed throughout the area, and amidst the wave of anxious chatter, there was light laughter that bubbled from one corner of the courts.

It didn't take a genius to know who would find this development amusing.

Author's Note: Contrary to countless fics' portrayal of Niou, I'm convinced he's more introverted than he lets on. Which is true of the manga!Niou, anyway. I believe there's a stark difference between anime!Niou and manga!Niou, you see, and I choose to stick with the latter, mainly because his introversion seems to fit his ruthless, calculating personality better. And let's admit it: most of the time, nobody knows where the guy's off to or what goes on in his head. He likes doing things at his own pace. He comes off as somewhat of a slacker, but the guy's pretty serious when it comes to his studies and tennis, both of which, he excels in. If I were to type Niou using the Myers-Briggs' 16 personalities, I believe our resident Trickster's an INTJ.

Agree or disagree?

On another note, it took me quite a while to make the outline for this story, and I'm just so happy I was finally able to map everything out. OS will most likely be 20-22 chapters long, and considering we're only on the third chapter, expect many more things to happen. I'm pretty excited to write the rest of the chapters, actually. I only hope I can deliver and update as often as I can. ;w;

Anyway, I'll be adding a new section to my A/Ns just to pick at your brains and keep the discussion going:

Points To-Ponder:

(1) Why do you think Yagyuu saw a reflection of himself in Ono?
(2) What do you think were the pertinent points of Kiriyama and Ono's deal?
(3) Do you think Ono managed to turn the tables in this chapter?

Extras:

(1) There's this japantoday article on the "Importance of aisatsu" (or greetings), and it kind of sheds light on the whole routine we get a glimpse of in anime/manga. Based on what I've read, they do it to keep things less awkward in the work place, given that people will feel less inclined to ignore someone if that person greeted you in the hallways or something (or so they say). I guess this also coincides with the kouhai-senpai culture fostered in school and society's rabid respect for the elderly. I'm not entirely sure if aisatsu is still strictly followed these days though.
(2) Yagyuu is said to have silver eyes. Ono has hazel.

Up Next: After a series of cancelled "dates", Ono finally meets the Traitor! But what does Niou have to do with this?