Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of these characters. The situation is my own idea.


'Yukimura-buchou can be really scary…' Slouching as he walked away from the school, Kirihara's thoughts were still stuck on what had just happened. 'It's not like I planned to see them. They're going to kill me…'

--

"Shit!" Kirihara shouted as he ran back towards the school, drawing a disapproving look from the old woman walking her dog on the other side of the street. "I have to put that picture back in Niou-senpai's locker or he'll know I've been in his stuff again!"

He skidded to a halt just outside the clubroom hallway. It wouldn't do him any good to get caught running in the school by the teachers; he had had too many detentions already this term.

Walking as quickly as possible so as not to incur the wrath of the teachers, Kirihara was surprised to see not a teacher, but a pale glow shining around the apparently still-open tennis club room, even though he was sure everyone had already left and the room had been closed an hour ago.

'Who's in there? Buchou's the only one with access to the keys… but if buchou's in there, how will I get that picture of Niou-senpai out of my locker and back into his without anyone seeing?' Feeling more than a little scared for his well-being, Kirihara crept the last few meters to the door and peeked around it into the dimly lit room.

He heard them before his eyes could readjust to the light and allow him to actually see them. Kirihara thought he'd never been more traumatized in his life, not even when Niou-senpai asked him about his relationship with Marui-senpai from across the gym during that one assembly, or when Niou-senpai somehow stole his uniform pants (and his shorts, and his school pants) while he was changing and he'd had to walk home in his boxers because nobody else seemed to want to lend him theirs, or really, whenever Niou-senpai did anything to embarrass him. No, his was much worse, and for some reason his mind couldn't decide between wanting him to gouge out his eyes or to keep watching, which he couldn't for the life of him understand.

While his brain had a strong internal debate, Kirihara was frozen, like a deer in headlights, watching in horrified fascination the site in front of him. From his angle, he could see Sanada-fukubuchou sitting in one of the new chairs in the club room, his back towards the door and his hat laying forgotten on the floor behind the chair. Yukimura-buchou was sitting facing the door, though his eyes were closed. Sitting on the taller boys lap. No, Kirihara realized with growing dread. Bouncing on Sanada's lap. And the vice captain's hands were grasping the other boy's sweaty back. His bare back, the black-haired boy corrected himself, and 'Oh god, that's more than just a bare back!'

Kirihara continued to watch until a sudden voice snapped him out of his stupor.

"Genichirou" The grunted response from the larger boy cause Kirihara's eyes to flash up to Yukimura's face, where he found that clouded, but at the same time oh-so-clear, gaze directed at him. They locked eyes for a brief moment, one in which Kirihara knew he was destined to die a horrible death, before those eyes that promised weeks of pain and pure torture snapped shut, and Yukimura's mouth fell open in a silent scream as those hands now tightly gripping his waist held his shuddering body in place.

Before those dangerously beautiful eyes could open again, Kirihara ran.

--

"Buchou's going to kill me, or maybe he'll torture me really slowly and then kill me. Sanada-fukubuchou didn't notice me though, at least I don't think he did… he would have yelled or… oh god, what if he did see me and was just stuck under buchou's …control and couldn't say anything?! I'm going to die. They're going to kill me together! It will be…"

"Who's going to kill you this time?"

"Yukimura-buchou and Sanada-fuku…" Kirihara cut off with a choking noise as his head shot up and he noticed his team-mate at last. "M… Ma… Marui-senpai!"

"Yo So, who's going to kill you? What did you do now?" The red-headed third year inquired. Kirihara looked at him as if he was asking if it looked like rain during a typhoon, and then attempted a glare but only ended up with more of a pained pout.

"I just told you." He ground out. "Buchou is going to kill me and fukubuchou will help, or maybe fukubuchou will kill me and buchou will stand there laughing evilly like he does when you've done something wrong and are about to be punished. Either way, they're going to kill me and I'm going to die and it's all Niou-senpai's fault."

"I won't ask how he is involved, but what did you do?" Marui asked, shifting his bag to the other shoulder. "Really Akaya, it can't be bad enough that they would actually kill you…"

Kirihara's head jerked up from where he had been staring pointedly at his feet again, his eyes wild. "You don't understand, Marui-senpai! I saw buchou and fukubuchou on the chair… I can never sit on that chair again!" Marui's gum snapped but Kirihara was too lost in his explanation to notice. "And there were hands and no clothes… and, and noises, and oh god, buchou gave me that look, the one that says 'Akaya, I know what you've done and you will suffer for it,' right before he… and Sanada-fukubuchou… and they… and I saw them…"

His body completed the descent it had been making since the beginning of his speech, his knees hitting the ground in what probably would have been a painful way if Kirihara weren't so distraught. Marui thought he looked like a kicked puppy, but gave him a quick and rather awkward laugh, saying "Ah, yeah, they'll probably at least make you life hell for a few weeks."

"Or for the rest of my life, for as long as that is," Kirihara added under his breath. He winced slightly as the other grabbed him under his arms and pulled him off the ground.

"Well, if this is going to be the last night of your life, then we might as well make sure we bother enjoy it."

Shrugging the arm that had been thrown around his shoulders off, he gave the redhead a slightly strangled look. "No! I can't ever do that again! Not after," he gestured helplessly in the direction of the school. "…that. I'll never stop seeing buchou's hand in Sanada-fukubuchou's hair or the noises they…"

The gum popped so close to Kirihara's ear that he jumped. "Enough! You are going to come with me and whether or not you do actually die tomorrow, I am going to make you stop thinking about those two because I am a genius and I can, and I will not have you imagining them while we are helping you enjoy what is potentially you last night on Earth."

By the end of Marui's speech, Kirihara's face had turned a color strikingly similar to the third year's hair. He nodded rather dumbly and allowed himself to be dragged off towards the other's house, ready and willing to have that horror forced out of him the way Marui wanted to.

--

Kirihara was glad, upon waking up in Marui's bed the morning after the unexpected sleepover, to find that he had not, in fact, been murdered during the night. He did not, however, expect to survive the day and therefore every step he took as he and Marui walked towards the school for practice drove little swords of terror through his body.

By the time they arrived at the school, Marui had had to practically drag his kouhai behind him. "Cheer up, at least he can't add you being late to practice to his list of reasons to kill you today. Niou's not even here yet."

Something caught in Kirihara's mind. "Niou-senpai!" he yelled and took off running towards the club room.

Marui looked after him as he ran with a curious look on his face. After a moment, he, too, headed for the scene of what was sure to be an exciting interaction.

When Kirihara arrived at the entrance to the club room, it was to find Yukimura sitting nonchalantly in the same chair that he had helped to violate the night before. The second year let out a shaky laugh and said "Morning, buchou"

"Good morning, Akaya." He watched him. Just stared at him until Kirihara felt like he was going to die without having anything actually done to him. That was how Marui found the situation when he got there, though he (and the rest of his teammates who had approached the club room as well) knew better than to make himself known.

"Akaya," Yukimura said again in that cool and deceptively friendly voice of his. "We'll discuss the punishments you shall be receiving and the reasons behind said punishments at another time, when we are free to …talk without an audience." Confused, Kirihara turned until he could see that the entire regular team, including Sanada-fukubuchou, who did not seem to know the reason for Yukimura's anger ('Thank god! Now only one of them will have reason to kill me!'), had gathered in the doorway. He flushed in embarrassment and annoyance that they were able to witness this humiliation.

The sound of a throat being cleared brought his attention back to his captain, who he noticed was holding a small piece of paper.

Not paper, Kirihara quickly understood with a shocked look on his face. A picture. "Buchou, no. Not here." He pleaded.

"Ah, but Akaya, I wanted to return the photograph that I found hanging out of your locker last night when I came back to school to complete a project I had not yet finished." He smirked, Kirihara was sure of it, though he'd never have proof. Holding out the photo, in plain view of everyone still in the hallway, Yukimura said "Here you go, wouldn't want it getting lost and picked up by the wrong person. It seems so …risqué. And oh dear, is that Seigaku's Fuji in there as well?"

From behind him, Kirihara could hear the outraged Niou demand to know what he was doing with that in his locker and informing him ever so politely that he was going to kill him before Yukimura could deal his punishment for whatever it was that he did, but the youngster of the group paid no attention to him. After all the speculation he had done on ways to be destroyed by buchou, he had never expected embarrassment to be the one to come out on top.

The glint of amusement in Yukimura's eye was the last thing Kirihara saw before he metaphorically died of embarrassment on the club room floor, leading Kirihara to believe that he had been doomed to this outcome the moment he took the picture from Niou-senpai's locker. After all, he was sure he had put it back immediately after making those copies of it, only to get a glance of the photo still in his own locker before leaving school yesterday without a second thought. It wasn't until half-way home that he'd realized that it was indeed not in the locker it should have been in.

When he regained awareness of the world around him, Kirihara noticed that no one was left in the club room except himself and Marui-senpai. "Come on, get up. This is the second time you've collapsed like that in front of me in two days, and I don't enjoy picking you up every time. Yukimura was something, wasn't he? And Niou was pissed, don't think you're out of the woods with him yet, though Yukimura may not kill you as much as you expected. I think you're more likely to get an interesting talk on what you did or did not see, be sure to tell me all about it afterwards."

Kirihara stared at Marui as he spoke, more in shock about not being dead than for any other reason. He followed the redhead blindly as he was led back outside, all the while listening to Marui's one-sided conversation about how they really should be getting back to practice, that just because Yukimura chose not to kill Kirihara for what he did the night before, didn't mean they should give him reason to reevaluate his decision. The second year nodded at the necessary intervals and couldn't help but agree with his senpai, he really shouldn't push his luck.

Reaching the edge of the courts, Kirihara moved towards the one Yanagi-senpai occupied, assuming he'd be the safest of the singles players to join. Before he was even a meter away, Marui's Akaya-only voice reached his ears, and he grinned.

"Don't think I won't reward you for that stunt you pulled on Niou The look on his face was priceless; let's see how he likes it when everyone knows one of his secrets. Walk home with me after practice and we'll celebrate your impending doom. Again."

Maybe dying wouldn't be so bad after all.