InsaneJournal

Prince Cafe - Chapter 09
Title: The Prince Cafe

Chapter: 09

Fandom: Tenipuri

Pairings: AtobexTezukaxFuji, and *gasp* FujixKurumi (het). Eek!

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: Gah, I apologize for the shortness of this chapter - again! Anyway, we're almost at the end.

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Chapter 09 – Tie Breaker

Half pulling half dragging a reluctant and protesting Yuuta, Fuji set a brisk pace towards the street courts, hoping to arrive before anything traumatic happened and stop the pointless challenge from the Hyotei buchou. At the same time, he cursed the sorry excuse of a waste of carbon that was the Mizuki clan that was the reason behind his current predicament. Thus, in his hurry and multitasking state of worry, he began mumbling rather incoherently, which sounded a lot like, “Damnit, stupid Mizuki challenging Tezuka to Yuuta and holding his hand intimating inappropriate familiar gestures towards our buchou. Why did Tezuka have to take the stupid Mizuki and his stupid food poisoning…?”

Yuuta wisely kept his mouth shut regarding his older brother’s mutterings and did his best to keep up with the tiring speed that Fuji had set. Somehow, he didn’t think telling his brother that he was beginning to sound like Ibu-kun from Fudomine was going to improve his brother’s temper.

Then it was just the Fuji luck that as they passed under an open window, a torrent of water, flower petals, and pieces of glitter poured down over the two siblings. Suddenly releasing his iron grip on his brother’s elbow, Fuji looked up just in time to see a flash of swinging braid before a sharp voice called out, “Ah, sorry, Syuusuke!”

Fuji shuddered. Yuuta looked on with amusement as he repeated, “Syuusuke? Why, Aniki, I had no idea.”

“It’s a long story,” Fuji hissed under his breath before replying louder in a more pleasant voice, “No, we’re all right, Kurumi-chan.”

In seconds, a 6th grade elementary student with a side braid was standing before Fuji and his brother. “Ne, Syuusuke, is this your otoutou you told me about?”

“Hey, I’m Yuuta! Yuuta, not Fuji’s otoutou got that?” Yuuta screeched in indignation, if only on general principle, though his dripping form was more comedic than threatening.

“Kurumi-chan, what are you doing here?” Fuji ignored Yuuta’s outrage and Kurumi’s unhealthy prying into his personal life. It was bad enough that Kurumi had managed to wheedle one date out of him, he’ll be damned before he got dragged into another one.

“I’ve been helping out at the store,” Kurumi squeaked shrilly, making both Fujis cringe with the high pitch. “I didn’t realize you were walking by. Sorry, Syuusuke.”

“Don’t worry, Kurumi-chan. We’ll be fine,” Fuji replied with forced politeness while Yuuta continued to goggle at the disturbingly forward child that was calling his brother by his given name.

“But you’re all wet and you have petals in your hair,” Kurumi continued to fret, her voice rising with her distress. “Come in, Syuusuke. I’ll help you dry off.”

“Ah, that really isn’t necessary,” Fuji replied, rejecting the offer immediately as he was desperately afraid that the devil child before him would take advantage of any signs of compromise; the entire situation inspired images of a circling snake around a helpless mouse, ready to pounce. It was a rare incidence where Fuji was feeling uncomfortable and hunted. Though the fear was not unwarranted, since the last experience with said child had involved stuffing him into an overly stiff, unbearably white Victorian costume and a tacky plastic crown. Of course the only evidence, a photo sticker that was so popular with the younger girls recording the event, had somehow landed in Inui’s notebooks.

“But, Syuusuke! You’ll catch a cold!”

“No, really, I’ll be fine.” Surreptitiously, Fuji began inching away from the child and broke out into a dead run as soon as he approached the corner. Making sure that Yuuta was following at his heels, he tossed a quick, “Nice to see you again, Kurumi-chan. Send my greetings to Narumi-chan. Bye!”

Not waiting for a response, the two boys pelted away from the girl, heading for the street courts as fast as they can, while bits of brightly colored petals fell off occasionally.

*

At the courts, most of the spectator’s attention were thoroughly captivated by the war-like tennis between the two national level players and were thus unaware of the arrival of two bedraggled forms at the periphery of the crowd. However, Yamato with his heightened senses and an eye for detail managed to accost the two Fuji brothers just as they approached, questioning inanely how things were with Yuuta and his unfortunate sempai. Fuji tried his best to avoid twitching from both impatience and the direction of Yamato’s questions.

“Yamato sempai,” Fuji interrupted before he could ask Yuuta what exactly he and Mizuki were doing at the Seigaku Café together, “how is the match?”

“Ah, Tezuka is doing quite well,” Yamato smile while simultaneously Saeki announced from his position on the referee chair “Game Atobe, 6 all.”

Suddenly abandoning Yuuta to Yamato’s care, Fuji rushed through the throngs of the audience, cutting a straight path into the courts. When Saeki finished announcing that it was Atobe’s serve, Fuji had fully stepped onto the courts and yelled, “Stop it, right now!”

Unfortunately, Fuji’s presence seemed to do little to deter Atobe from his serve, and the ball whizzed past Fuji into Tezuka’s court. Tezuka, being one who never let a tennis ball into his court without trying to return it, jerked on instinct and raised his racquet. Before Tezuka’s racquet could touch the ball, however, Fuji had managed to arrive into Tezuka’s court, despite the ineffective sputterings by Saeki, and had bodily intercepted the traveling projectile. The result was Fuji losing his balance under the assault of an object traveling at over 100 kilometers per hour and collided into Tezuka. Even his usual grace and agility had not been able to save Tezuka from the tumble to the ground in a ball of flailing appendages.

Tezuka stared unamused at the dripping and sparkling body on top of him. “Fuji, what’s the meaning of this?”

The wet and glitter-covered tensai blinked blankly into the supine Tezuka’s face. While his mouth hanged open, nothing seemed forthcoming as Fuji lay rather stiffly on top of his buchou.

Struggling to a sitting position, with Fuji still ostensibly lodged into his lap, Tezuka managed to free his hand to shake the soaked through body. “Fuji, can you get up?” inquired Tezuka in one last attempted to rouse some reaction from the still form.

Still looking dazed, Fuji responded, “Aa,” and proceeded to begin disentangling his arms and legs from Tezuka’s. Just as the two boys managed to separate themselves, the rich, cultured voice flowed from the other side of the court asking, “Ne, Saeki. That’s a point in my favor, isn’t it?”

In seconds, Fuji was on his feet, glaring copiously between Saeki and Atobe equally, the former for not putting a stop to the game and the latter for being who he was. “Considering that ball struck a bystander, I would consider it a foul, ne Saeki?”

Saeki looked back and forth between the Hyotei buchou, who looked capable of unpleasantness served up in ways beyond imagination, and Fuji, who was his friend since grade school and who he knew well enough to realize retribution would come swiftly and painfully. Torn between loyalty and survival, he hesitated to actually making a call, reluctant to agree with either side. Thankfully, he was saved from having to give an answer right away as Atobe choose to answer for him, “I hardly think a bystander who ran into the courts can be considered a bystander anymore. The disruption was clearly during my play and Tezuka failed to return the ball, making the point mine.”

“I believe I called a stop to the game. Simply because you refused to pay attention to announcement is no reason to excuse you from the appropriate penalties,” Fuji returned hotly, no longer bothering to ask for an impartial resolution from the referee.

“You can hardly be considered authority in announcing pauses in a game, since the referee has yet to call it,” Atobe rebutted with a lofty glance at Saeki, reminding him that while Fuji may have abandoned tormenting his friend, Atobe Keigo was not one who took lightly to partiality on the tennis court.

“Fuji, leave the courts now. The match hasn’t finished.” Tezuka’s calm voice cut into the thick tension building between the diva and the tensai, causing both to turn abruptly to face the other player involved in the fiasco. Dusting himself off, Tezuka turned to address Atobe, “I will allow that Fuji’s action was unconventional and am willing to re-play for that point.”

“Naturally, ore-sama would not want to win on the basis of a technicality,” Atobe agreed with his usual hauteur, no longer paying attention to the smaller Seigaku boy. “When I beat you, Tezuka, people will acknowledge ore-sama’s prowess on the courts. It will be the beauty of ore-sama’s skill that will finally leave no contention just which one of us is the strongest.”

A lone clap came from off the courts where Yamato was applauding the speech rhythmically. “Well said, Atobe-kun,” he declared with a smile that was rivaling Fuji’s in sheer disturbing factor, “let there be no contention to the results of this match. Now, Saeki-kun, would you please announce the start of the tie-break anew?” As he received a nod of affirmation from the Rokkaku fukubuchou, Yamato reached out to guide Fuji off the courts and allow the tie-breaker to take place.

It wasn’t until Fuji was standing by the edges of the court, peering intently at the renewed game that he realized his intent at stopping the game had been completely averted.