A/N: Hey minna-san! Gomen for the late update and short chapter once again! Feel free to hit me :D College and writers block have been eating me alive XD XD But i had some major nostalgia flash of memories today and it reminded me of when i first discovered PoT :D So i started to listen to all the music and WHAM! Inspiration is back nya! Thank you for being patient with me, i hope you enjoy this~ R&R and ConCrit are loved.
Anyone with suggestions for the 'war' feel free to put them foreward...just not TOO ooc. I'm trying hard to keep this in character. Though i'm damn certain i've failed XD XD XD XD
Oh and be prepared for random updates coming your way mwahahaha
Way back at the training camp, several whines echoed across the newly saved grass court, no longer a jungle of weeds and stones, as the Regulars lined up, arms aching and legs dying.
"This was our last practice, clean the courts up then get changed," Tezuka buchou spoke clearly to his team. "We're leaving tonight at eight. Be ready."
A chorus of 'hai' ran through the air and the Seigaku regulars dispersed, walking off to take down the nets and clear the balls away, grumbling amongst themselves.
"Geez, what's up with Tezuka-buchou," Seigaku's second year power player groaned, snatching a ball from the floor. "I thought we were here for a few more days."
"Mada mada Momo-senpai," their first year muttered, walking past him carrying an already rolled up net. The sooner they got packed, the sooner he got home to Karupin, had been his reason.
"Tch, oi," Momo growled, shaking his fist, feeling far too tempted to chuck the ball at the smaller boys head. Knowing the cocky first year though, he would probably just catch it. The annoyed second year didn't get a chance to test this theory as a soft voice behind him spoke.
"Ah Momo, calm down," their mother hen spoke with a reasonable voice, dropping some balls into the basket. "We're leaving early because a storm is on the way. It wouldn't be good to be out here when it comes... Besides, we'd also like to know how those two are coping."
"Ha, I bet they look terrible," Momo sniggered, imagining the patches of red covering the two missing regulars. Oishi frowned.
"Momo don't speak like that," he chastised, still frowning. "Finish this and collect your stuff. Once that's done we'll go eat."
"Hai senpai," Momo replied, picking up the last few balls around with a childish expression of some one who had just had their fun spoiled. That expression quickly changed when he remembered the last part about food. "Oi Echizen! Hurry up!"
"Tch," the rookie answered, walking off back to the tents. "I'm already done Momo-senpai."
It didn't take too long to clear the courts of their equipment, packing them away securely before they entered the circle inside where the tents once stood. Dinner went just as quick as the hungry Regulars chomped down on their food, Momo and Echizen being the main two to eat the most, all warm by the small camp fire to fit the scenery. The regulars' luggage was waiting on the pathway along with the coach that was waiting for them. They were out after a while, piling in to the vehicle ready to go home, each one of them not too pleased to be leaving so early, but happy they wouldn't get caught in the storm soon they could see in the distance.
The trip home wasn't long, but most of them had fallen asleep in their seats apart from three. Tezuka was sat looking out to the distance of the clouds as he thought about his team mate and the events of the previous day, as expressionless as he was, he couldn't help but wonder how the other was coping. A seat or so backwards, Oishi too was worrying over his partner's health, knowing Eiji for as long as he had, proved to be giving him more things to worry about than ever. He knew Eiji wouldn't appreciate being cooped up indoors all day at all…and with his current track record with Fuji…it was needless to say that Oishi was more than slightly scared. Tezuka also couldn't help hoping that Kikumaru wouldn't be reported dead or at least severely traumatized when they returned….then again, it had only been a day, nothing could have happened, surely?
Behind them all, one green notebook was propped up, a pen scribbling away furiously as Inui wrote down this interesting data he was getting to witness. "Ii data…"
- - - - -
Kikumaru Eiji hadn't slept that night, he couldn't, his back itched...in fact; every thing itched. There was not one single position he could lie in without feeling irritated or sore, but that wasn't the only thing keeping him awake. Thoughts were flying through the red heads mind, thoughts of one blue eyed terror he had cross a line with, and it was giving him nightmares. Oh of course Fuji was his best friend, but that didn't mean to say he would be exempt from the tensai's sadistic ways, in fact it just left him open for worse things. Although…as Eiji had indeed been Fuji's best friend since the tensai joined Seigaku, a lot had rubbed of on the easily influenced acrobat, and Eiji knew he could use this to his advantage. If Fuji was going to do something, then he was going to fight back too.
That night Kikumaru Eiji hadn't been able to sleep; it wasn't just the annoyance of his skin keeping him up, or the idea of the future horrors that awaited him. No, it was, for lack of a better title, Eiji's fervent plotting of his 'Defense Strategy against the Smiling Devil' that was indeed, keeping him awake.
- - - - -
The Fuji house hold had been quiet that night. Yumiko had been doing some work from home so she could look after her otouto, Yuuta refused to visit for fear of "aniki hugging me so I'd have to stay home and suffer with him," whilst upstairs Fuji Syuusuke glared at nothing in particular as he held his covers, fingers twitching to just scratch his damned skin and sod the consequences. The only thing stopping his attempts was the gloves Yumiko had strapped to his hands with a far too cheerful smile for his liking. He sighed staring balefully at his arms, or rather in his mind, the cause of his misfortune. For this, Eiji would suffer.
It might not be tomorrow or the next day, but he would get pay back, when the red head least expected it. To this Fuji smiled wickedly, before attempting to rip those irritating gloves off.
The house was quiet that night. Not just because of the hard at work sister, or the lack of their otouto. It wasn't even because of the careful toying the tensai was doing to the straps holding the gloves in place. The air was far too still that night, because Fuji Syuusuke had spent that night plotting the demise of his beloved best friend.