InsaneJournal

Title: The Prince Cafe

Chapter: 03

Fandom: Tenipuri

Pairings: Some GP, a little TezukaxAtobe, and, shockingly, An-chanxMomo (omg, het!).

Disclaimer: Original series belong to Konami-sensei. I take absolutely zero claim for this.

Idea for this story was inspired by the newest set of clear cards with "The Prince Cafe" theme.

Author's Note: Oh god, this is so cracky. And as usual, feedback is loved, petted, and tucked away to snuggle with at night. ^^;

===

Chapter 03 – It’s Time To Duel!

Tezuka warily approached the drama queen that was currently standing in the middle of the entrance lobby. He noted with mild alarm that Akutsu, after seeing Atobe’s flagrant display, was also marching toward said drama queen.

“Atobe,” Tezuka greeted with lukewarm hospitality.

“Ah, Tezuka. Are you here to seat ore-sama in your humble establishment?”

Before Tezuka could tell Atobe to please remove his flowers, as one of his waiters –Echizen – was allergic to sakura, Akutsu piped up. “Hey, frill-boy, those who arrived last should be seated last.”

Atobe turned sharply to face the plebian that just addressed his royal-self, sniffing in distain when he saw Akutsu in his school uniform. “And those who cannot appreciate the fine art that is ore-sama should refrain from opening their uncultured mouths. Tezuka, please remove this commoner from my presence, he’s contaminating the air.”

Tezuka opened his mouth, ready to explain that he was not allowed to throw out his customers as clearly outlined in the training menu and that even if he were, he would not do so simply on Atobe’s orders. However, Akutsu had shot out an arm and grabbed Atobe by his crisp suit collars, pulling him mere inches from his face.

“Listen, you over-dressed fluffy peacock. I can snap your foofy little neck in half if I felt like it, so you better pay attention to what comes out of that mouth of yours.”

“Akutsu, release my customer,” Tezuka finally managed to intervene. Though his voice was soft, Tezuka’s warning was clear and Akutsu, for all of his violent bravado, knew better than to disobey. With a disgruntled huff, he released the material in his hands, taking a small consolation at the now wrinkled appearance of the Hyotei buchou.

“Thank you, Tezuka,” Atobe idly smoothed the rustled fabric of his suit. “I’m glad to see that culture and sense exists amongst barbaric members of society. Ne, Kabaji?”

The hulking gorilla of a tennis player suddenly appeared behind Atobe and said, “Usu.”

“Atobe,” Tezuka warned, indicating that should Atobe continue to provoke Akutsu, Tezuka would gladly let the ex-tennis player do with Atobe as he will, blood in the carpets be damned. Atobe silenced, though not without one last disdainful sniff.

Believing the crisis to be momentarily diverted, Tezuka turned to ask Oishi to seat their troublesome customers, only to find that the front desk was empty. Puzzled he signaled for Inui to come over and explain the situation.

“Oishi has abandoned his post to check on the yelling that was coming from the kitchen,” was Inui’s explanation once he arrived. “I believe he mentioned something about keeping Eiji from decapitating the Hyotei acrobat.”

Tezuka merely turned to look in askance at Atobe, who shrugged and said, “Mukahi wanted to see how well Kikumaru has been improving through the new training.”

Tezuka continued to stare; a glimmer of incredulity shining behind the stern façade, as though to ask and you let him? Picking up on the question, Atobe elaborated, “I can’t see how this would hurt.”

“Inui, take care of our guests,” Tezuka ordered, already turning around to head to the kitchen to clean up after the wake of the Hyotei red-head.

*

In the kitchen, Kikumaru was seething as the Hyotei acrobat jumped on and off the counters, taunting him about his suddenly klutzy movements. It wasn’t Eiji’s fault that he was unfamiliar with the industrial-sized kitchen appliances or that the 5 gallon pots were much heavier than it looked, which caused him to drop it on an unfortunate Horio as soon as he’d picked it up.

Mukahi was wasting no time to use this to tease the already flustered chef about his supposed “number one reflexes” in Seigaku. “Ne, is this what they call the player with the number one reflexes? I’ve seen bears more agile than you, Kikumaru!”

Finally fed up with the taunting and more than a little frustrated with the constant slew of accidents that seemed to befall him, Kikumaru tossed aside his chef’s hat and flew at Mukahi in a ball of rage. His attention was focused solely on wrapping his fingers around the other boy’s throat and was thus rather surprised to suddenly find himself restrained by a pair of arms around his waist.

“Eiji! Calm down!” Oishi yelled directly into his ear.

His anger momentarily diverted, Kikumaru turned to whine at his doubles partner. “Nya! Don’t talk so loud Oishi. I have sensitive ears.”

“Sorry,” Oishi apologized out of habit.

“Forgiven!” Kikumaru magnanimously patted Oishi’s shoulder. Then, he suddenly remembered why Oishi was yelling in his ear and his anger returned ten-fold, launching futilely against Oishi’s restraining arms at the other red-head. “You! Mukahi! Get over here and I’ll show you who has the better reflex!”

“Eiji! Eiji, stop it!” Oishi clutched desperately to the writhing mass of fury, while bodily blocking his attack route. “Kawamura, don’t just stand there! Do something!”

Oishi’s yell jolted Kawamura from his dazed state of shock at seeing the usually sweet and fun-loving Kikumaru turning into a homicidal maniac. Quickly, he approached the struggling pair, and under Oishi’s directions, managed to pin the thrashing Kikumaru to the floor. The trouble causing Hyotei member squatted on the counters staring at the tableu with an amused smile.

And that was how Tezuka found them.

Instead of reproaching Kikumaru for his embarrassing loss of dignity, Oishi for abandoning his station, and Kawamura for not directing any and all Hyotei tennis players away from the kitchen since he really ought to know better, he turned to Mukahi and ordered him to leave. Mukahi wilted neatly before Tezuka’s glare and slinked out of the kitchen.

Turning back, Tezuka stared at the now quieted threesome on the floor. “Twenty laps tomorrow.”

“Hai.”

*

Inui Sadaharu reveled in being the most intelligent member of the Seigaku team. Where he may lack in skill, he makes up with his formidable fount of knowledge. This served him well to keeping his Regulars position on the team and had the fringe benefit of being the best informed of each and every Regular’s pet peeves. It made for great trouble making and with Tezuka tied in resolving the kitchen fiasco, Inui’s calculating mind began to run double his usual speed.

By seating Atobe in Echizen’s area, there was a 70% probability that Echizen would be distracted by his other long time rival to forget about Tezuka’s orders of distracting Fuji from homicide. Add Akutsu into the equation and multiplying Akutsu’s own obsession with Echizen, the probability will increase to 87%. With Echizen occupied by the two rivals, the chances that Fuji would inflict his wrath upon the St. Rudolph manager were 100%. Satisfied with his calculations, Inui set about carrying out his plan with an evil smile, the meager light in the café reflecting off his glasses in a disturbing glare

*

Momoshiro stared at his sempai with a look of trepidation. “Fuji-sempai, why did you want me to help you with table 3?”

“Because we’re short of waiters with Echizen being pulled two ways between Atobe and Akutsu,” Fuji nodded towards the tug-of-war currently engaged at the two window seats. Akutsu and Atobe both demanding Echizen serve him first and the child prodigy was simply standing there getting more and more frustrated with being ordered about.

“But, Fuji-sempai, buchou specifically said that people are not to leave their established posts.”

“I’m sure Tezuka wouldn’t be angry for helping out in a pinch. Extreme circumstances require extreme resolutions, ne?” Fuji smiled mildly, looking innocent of any evil-doing as only Fuji could. Momoshiro, being rather unfortunately naïve and gullible, seemed have forgotten that Fuji never did anything without an ulterior motivation, and therefore agreed rather quickly.

“Thank you, Momo,” Fuji whispered over his shoulder as he drifted towards table 12, leaving Momoshiro to take care of table 3. Momoshiro shrugged and quickly cleared off the dishes and utensils, dropping them into a bin and shoving it at the passing Kaidoh.

Kaidoh stared at the bin full of dishes that suddenly appeared in his hands and glared at Momoshiro.

“Hey, Baka, how about you take care of your own work.”

“No can do, Mamushi,” Momoshiro responded cheerily. “Fuji-sempai just assigned me to be the waiter for table 3.”

Kaidoh was about to tell Momoshiro that he can take his assignment and put it where the sun-don’t-shine when a high feminine voice squealed, “Really? Momo-chan is going to serve us?”

Momoshiro turned to see Tachibana An sitting down at table 3 while dragging Kamio into a seat next to hers. Her brother sat in the opposing seat with great composure and seemed undisturbed by his sister’s overt physical touching.

“Yeah, I’m going to be your waiter for the moment,” Momoshiro agreed amiably. Then he gave An a goofy grin and asked, “How may I serve you?”

Kamio twitched.

“Hey! Don’t get too familiar with An-chan! And don’t say things like that you pervert!” The speed demon of Fudomine shot up in his chair and screeched into Momoshiro’s face.

“Wha? Who are you calling a pervert, you rhythm freak?”

“At least I can coordinate in doubles, unlike some people we know!”

“I see someone forgot who played doubles with me!”

“Do I have to remind you how badly you were losing our game?”

“Me? I wouldn’t even had to have play if it wasn’t because you challenged Atobe!”

“Oh, so now it’s my problem, you bike-thief?”

“Hey, I explained that to you!”

“Some explanation! You didn’t even catch the purse-snatcher!”

“And who’s fault would that be?”

“Oh please, you didn’t even notice when you ran into Kaidoh!”

“Wait! That was you?” Kaidoh, who was just about ready to leave the fighting duo suddenly regained interest in the shouting match.

“Kamio stepped on you too!”

“I’m going to kill both of you!”

*

Polishing glasses at the back of the bar, Inui surveyed the chaos in the dining area. At table 3 the shouting had escalated to ear-splitting levels. At table 12, Mizuki seemed to be choking on something while Yuuta was pounding his back and Fuji looked on with a cold stare. By the windows, a literal tug of war had begun between Akutsu and Atobe, using Echizen as the rope. Things were progressing nicely.

Then a flash of red and Mukahi was talking to Atobe who still had one of Echizen’s arm grasped firmly in his hand. This was an unsuspected development and Inui frowned to consult his notebook. It was then he noticed the calm presence of the Seigaku buchou.

“Inui.”

“Tezuka.”

“40 laps.”

“Aa.”