Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Singing Juices: A Tenipuri Musical ❯ Follow Up ( Chapter 6 )

I had a little trouble writing this chapter (plus the internet was out) but the reviews really helped. And I realized that I haven't thanked you guys yet so I'm gonna do it by individual. Thank you to speadee twice and to Sky Surf, Mazoku Tenshi, charlotte, HazyCloudlet, kawaii kokoro, Karupin_chan, U.P.girl123, Kami011, shourin lazy to log in, hikari, LoveableDuck, Tuli-Susi, and acantabloom.

Oh, and don't worry. Inui and Kaidoh are going to get back together. This is just a small bump.

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Chapter #6: Follow Up

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Oishi went to school the next day with some trepidation, searching every corner, afraid Eiji would jump out at any moment and bring up their conversation from yesterday. So far it hadn't happened yet but it was only lunchtime.

And normally he would be sitting with Tezuka, Eiji, and Fuji at lunch, but again he didn't really want to see Eiji just yet. So he had decided to eat his lunch by himself under a tree on the other side of campus. It wasn't very much fun, but it was a lot safer.

“Oishi! Hey!” Eiji called cheerfully, waving a hand wildly in the air as he bounced over. “I was just looking for you!”

Oishi tried to resist the urge to groan and bury his head in his hands. He just barely made it.

“Eiji,” he said instead, pasting on a smile as he put aside his lunch and started to stand up. Seated on the grass with Eiji hovering over him was not where he wanted to be. “Um. Did you want something?”

Eiji stopped beside him and smiled brightly. “You know what I want.”

Oishi winced and quickly looked around their surroundings. There were a few other students lying under the tree not too far away but that was it. He suddenly felt very alone. “You aren't going to start that here, are you?”

“Why? What's wrong with here?” Eiji blinked and looked around the area curiously. He didn't see any reason to not have the conversation here.

Oishi moved in closer and hissed, “People can see us.”

“Yeah, but they can't hear us,” Eiji pointed out with irrefutable logic. “So what's the problem?”

Oishi hung his head. “Never mind.” There wasn't really any point in arguing about it. He looked up, deciding to just get the whole painful thing over with. “I thought I already told you. No means no.”

“Oh no,” Eiji said, looking a little smug. “One way or another you are going to agree. I have Fuji's help on this. I can't lose.”

Oishi blanched. “Fuji?” That was not good. Even Tezuka couldn't stand out against Fuji. He might be in trouble. “Eiji! You know why we can't. Why do you keep pushing it?”

“Because I think it could work. I mean, who really cares about a few bigots? The people who matter won't care.”

“Did you forget about my parents?” Oishi asked pointedly.

“Like I said, the people who matter won't care. If they really love you they won't have a problem with it. Maybe they'll protest for a while but they'll get over it.” Eiji waved a hand negligently, as if the matter was small and unimportant. “I mean,” he said, looking at Oishi curiously, “your parents do love you, don't they?”

Oishi looked a little offended. “Of course they do.”

Eiji seemed to think that settled things. “Then there you go.” He smiled and looked so hopeful, waiting for Oishi to agree.

Oishi shook his head and looked away. “I don't think so. It'll be more than a few bigots.”

And hearing that, Eiji's smile dimmed and he frowned. “Do you really think the world is that mean?”

“Eiji,” Oishi said, turning back to him seriously. “This is reality.”

“Well, yeah,” Eiji said, still with that frown on his face, “I know that. I just . . . I don't think there are as many mean people in the world as you seem to think there are. People are nice!”

“Eiji . . .” Oishi stared, despairing at Eiji's naivety, but he didn't really want to bring down Eiji's optimism. It was one of the things he loved about the other boy. Even if it could be frustrating at times

“What?” Eiji asked blankly, not having a clue what the problem was.

Oishi closed his eyes and shook his head. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“No really, what?”

Oishi waved a hand. “Ignore it.”

“Well okay . . .” Eiji still looked like he wanted to ask but quickly turned back to the important things. “And even if there are tons of bigots out there, we can face them! Tezuka and Fuji face them everyday and they're more than happy. They're tripping on happy.”

Oishi stared off to the right as he let that last sentence run through his mind. “I somehow find it hard to picture Tezuka as the `tripping on happy' type. I mean I know he's happy but . . .”

“Oh! You know what I mean!” Eiji cried, frustrated. And this wasn't what Eiji had come here for. “And stop distracting me from my point!”

“What is your point?”

“That you should stop being such a coward and get together with me!” Immediately after he said it Eiji wanted to take it back.

Oishi gaped, unable to believe Eiji had actually called him that. “You think I'm a coward?”

Eiji looked uncomfortable and he fidgeted, playing with his fingers and staring at the ground. “Well, a little . . .”

Oishi's mouth tightened. “It's called common sense, Eiji,” he snapped, “Learn it!”

Eiji looked up, hurt. “Oishi!”

Oishi immediately looked contrite. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't know what I was thinking.”

“I shouldn't have said that either,” Eiji said, knowing he was partly to blame “You're not a coward.”

“And you have plenty of common sense.”

There was a pause as each of them looked away, uncomfortable. Eiji stared at the ground again. Oishi watched that group of friends over by the other tree. They looked so happy.

Finally, Eiji started talking again. “But then why won't you get together with me?” The true hurt that he was feeling finally managing to come through.

“Eiji . . .” Oishi turned back to him helplessly.

“I mean,” Eiji continued as twisted his hands, still staring at the ground. “Obviously you like me or we wouldn't even be having this conversation and I just don't understand. Is it really because of the bigots?” Eiji stole a small, shy, glance up out of the corner of his eye. “You're not a coward.”

“I just . . .” Oishi faltered, looking away then back, “Don't you think it's a little too fast?”

Eiji looked up at him fully, not understanding. “We've been friends for years.”

“Well, yeah, but . . .” Oishi struggled to explain. “I dunno,” he said, shrugging uncomfortably, “It just seems too fast.”

“Oishi . . .” Eiji didn't know what to say to that. All of the arguments he'd come here with addressed the bigot and parent issue. Nothing like this. And he didn't think Fuji would be able to help him with this even if he could ask him. “How slow do you want us to go?” he finally asked.

Oishi looked embarrassed. “Slower?”

“We're already not even moving,” Eiji pointed out, “We can't get any slower.”

“I just think we should go slower. This is all new to me, you know. The whole gay thing.”

“It's new to me too but at least I'm willing to give it a try.”

Oishi said nothing, actively avoiding his eyes. And at that moment the bell rang.

Eiji turned in the direction of the school to give it a dirty look. It just had to ring right then, didn't it? Just when they were making progress. He turned back to Oishi. “We'll talk about this later,” he promised.

Oishi nodded, just wanting to get away, and bent down to pick up his lunch.

 

 

“Hey Echizen!” Momo called, waving a hand at the freshman, who was lying under a tree not too far away. Ryoma sat up at the sound of his name and, seeing who it was, sighed heavily. But he didn't look like he would run away if Momo approached so Momo jogged over.

“So have you thought about it?” Momo asked as soon as he arrived.

Immediately realizing what he meant, Ryoma looked irritated. “Give me more time Momo-senpai.”

“But I gave you time! Lots of time!”

“You gave me a night. I need more. What happened to `take all the time you need'?” Ryoma asked mockingly.

Momo sighed and settled himself down next to the first-year, sitting cross-legged as he pulled at the grass. “I got bored.”

“Bored,” Ryoma repeated dully, staring at him. Had he really just said that?

“What?” Momo cried defensively. “You try sitting at home alone waiting for someone to decide your future for you!”

Ryoma was unimpressed. “I'm not deciding your future for you. I'm deciding your love life.”

Momo waved a hand dismissively. “Same thing. To-may-to, to-mah-to.”

Ryoma rolled his eyes and decided to lie back down, covering his face with his arm. Why did he put up with this idiot again?

“Hey.” Momo poked him in the arm. “Hey.” He poked him again.

Ryoma removed his arm from his face and looked up at Momo irritably. “What?”

“Can you help me study for my English test?”

And, hearing that, Ryoma had to push himself up and stare at Momo disbelievingly. “Did you really just ask me that?”

“What? It's hard,” Momo whined. “It makes my brain hurt.”

Ryoma sighed, disgusted, and lay back down, covering his face with his arm again. “I wouldn't be surprised if counting made your brain hurt,” he muttered lowly.

“Hey!” Momo protested, sitting up indignantly. “I'll have you know I can count just fine.”

“Up to what? 10?” Ryoma asked, his face still covered by his arm.

“And 20 and 30 and way more. I can even do math,” Momo said proudly.

Ryoma peeked at him from under his arm and smirked. “1 plus 1?”

“Hey. Who's in the higher math class here? You or me?” Momo pointed at himself proudly. “Me.”

Ryoma snorted and let his arm fall back down to cover his eyes. “Monkeys could pass the classes at this school. I wouldn't be so proud.”

“But I'm still in the higher math class. And the higher Japanese class.”

“Monkeys,” was all Ryoma said, not needing to say more.

Momo huffed. “Whatever.”

There was a comfortable silence for a moment as Momo went back to pulling at the grass and Ryoma relaxed. Then Momo looked over at Ryoma again. “So did you decide?”

Unable to believe this, Ryoma sat up and stared at the older boy. “You gave me five minutes! Nobody can decide that quickly!”

“But I need to kno-ow,” Momo whined childishly.

“Well then I'm not gonna tell you!” Ryoma said and rolled over, putting his back to Momo. “You should be glad I'm even talking to you,” he said angrily, getting comfortable in his new position.

“But Ech-i-zen!” Momo whined again, drawing out his name annoyingly.

Ryoma tensed but kept his back to him and tried to ignore the idiot. “Go away.”

And smart people would probably know that now was not the time to bother Ryoma, but no one had ever said Momo was smart.

“But Ech-i-zen!” punctuating each syllable with a poke to the back. “Don't ignore me! We need to talk.”

“Leave. Me. Alone,” Ryoma grit out, the poking driving him insane.

“I think I'm gonna keep poking you until you listen to me.” And true to his word, Momo kept on poking him.

Finally Ryoma couldn't take it any more. “Momo-senpai!” he shouted, sitting up suddenly and glaring at the older boy. “Stop it or I will say no.”

Momo immediately stopped, looking at Ryoma with big, sad, eyes. “Really?”

“Yes,” Ryoma said firmly, more than angry.

“I'll be good,” Momo said meekly, holding his hands in his lap.

Ryoma watched him for a moment to make sure he would stay true to his word then turned over again resolutely and lay back down. And for a long while there was blessed silence. Ryoma was almost able to feel thankful when he started to hear the music. Closing his eyes, he cursed in frustration, “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Sitting up again, he turned to look at Momo, who was obviously the source.

Momo continued to stare at him with those big, sad, eyes.

“Momo-senpai,” Ryoma tried to get his attention. “Momo-senpai,” he said again, waving a hand in the other boy's face. But Momo was obviously already lost.

“You know I can be found sitting home all alone,” Momo started to sing, “If you can't come around at least please telephone. Don't be cruel to a heart that's true.”

Ryoma closed his eyes and groaned, hiding his eyes with a hand. And it was one of those songs.

“Baby if I've made you mad with something I might've said, please just forget my past. The future looks bright ahead,” Momo continued, “Don't be cruel to a heart that's true. I don't want no other love. Baby it's just you I'm thinking of.”

And, hearing that, Ryoma opened his eyes and regarded Momo almost indifferently. And this was what he actually thought?

“Don't stop thinking of me. Don't make me feel this way. Come on let me hear you love me. You know what I want you to say,” Momo sang. “Don't be cruel to a heart that's true. Why should we be apart? I really love you baby, cross my heart.” Momo's fingers made a cross over his heart.

Ryoma narrowed his eyes at this, actually listening rather closely. Momo really did seem authentic. At the very least, Momo seemed nothing like his many fan-girls with their superficial declarations of love. Ryoma had thought at first that maybe that was all this was, but these songs apparently told the truth. Maybe Momo was for real.

And Momo still continued. “Let's walk up to the preacher and let us say I do. Then you know you'll have me and I know that I'll have you. Don't be cruel to a heart that's true. I don't want no other love. Baby it's just you I'm thinking of.”

Oh God. And he was talking about marriage. Was he really that serious? If he was then Ryoma had some serious thinking to do.

“Don't be cruel to a heart that's true,” Momo sang on, “Don't be cruel to a heart that's true. I don't want no other love. Baby it's just you I'm thinking of.”(1)

The song ended, the music slowly fading out, and Ryoma still watched Momo in consideration as the other boy regained his motor functions and looked this way and that furtively for any other possible audience.

Finally, assured of no other listener, Momo turned back to Ryoma only to find him staring. “What?” Momo asked nervously.

“Nothing,” Ryoma said, turning away. Casually, he lay back down, as though nothing had happened, and closed his eyes. “You have something on your face,” he told Momo, bored.

.”What!” Momo began to wipe at his face furiously, trying to get off that imaginary something.

“It's gone now.”

 

 

“Can we talk?” Inui asked, coming up to Kaidoh during lunch, cornering him in an empty classroom.

“You want to talk?” Kaidoh asked, almost disbelievingly, “Shouldn't you be busy on the antidote?” Actually truly wondering why Inui wasn't holed up somewhere on campus working on formulas.

Inui frowned. “Don't be snide. It doesn't suit you.”

Kaidoh's face seemed to harden and he hissed angrily. “Pssssshhh. I'm not being snide. I was actually wondering. You called off our anniversary to do it, after all. Why aren't you working on it?”

And hearing the accusation, Inui adjusted his glasses, looking down almost uncomfortably. “This was a little more important,” he finally said.

Kaidoh crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “And what was that?”

“You,” Inui said baldly, looking up to apparently to see how Kaidoh would take this.

Kaidoh couldn't help the snort that came out. It was just so ridiculous.

Inui didn't like that reaction. “I'm being serious.”

“Well then you're a little too late,” Kaidoh told him and Inui stared at him, starting to look worried.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean . . .” Kaidoh stopped and looked away. Did he really want to do this? He thought about the past few days, about the past six months, and he made his decision. Yes. He didn't like it, he hated it, but yes. He hissed softly and for once the singing came at exactly the right moment. “There's a fine, fine line between a lover and a friend,” he sang quietly, so Inui almost couldn't hear him. “There's a fine, fine line between realityyy and pretend. And you never know till you reach the top if it was worth the uphill climb. There's a fine, fine line between love and a waste of tiime.”

Kaidoh arms tightened across his chest and he looked down at the floor, clenching his jaw, but seemed to steel himself. “There's a fine, fine line between a fairytale and a lie,” he sang louder, voice getting stronger. “And there's a fine, fine line between your wonderful and goodbye. I guess if someone doesn't love you back it isn't such a crime,” Kaidoh took a breath and got even louder. “But there's a fiiine, fine liiine between loooove and a waste of your tiiiiiiiime.”

He suddenly turned on Inui, glaring. “And I don't haaave the time to waste on you anymore. I don't think that you even know what you're looking for. For my own san-i-tyyyy I've got to close the dooor and walk away.” He faltered at the reminder. “Oh-oh” he sang, looking pained, but then continued quietly, “There's a fine, fine line between together and not. And there's a fine, fine line between what you wanted and what you got.” His voice got stronger again as he gained more confidence in his decision. “You've got to go after the things you want while you're still in your priiiiiiiiiiiime. There's a fine, fine li-i-iine between loooove and a waste of tiiiiiiime.”(2)

He finished slowly then turned to Inui and said firmly, “Good-bye, Inui-senpai. I'll see you at practice.” And then he grabbed his lunch and walked out the door.

 

 

“Saa . . .” Fuji said, looking around at the other Regulars as he changed into his practice clothes. “It's so quiet today.”

And it was. Everyone seemed so serious and deep in thought. Even Momo and Eiji had forgone their usual antics. Well, to be fair, Momo had tried to incite something but nobody else seemed in the mood.

Eiji and Oishi he knew about, but Momo and Ryoma had seemed to be getting along much better since that morning. And Inui and Kaidoh were never exactly loud, but something was going on there too. Inui kept shooting looks at the other boy, some upset actually visible through his usual calm demeanor, and Kaidoh was rather forcibly ignoring him, going through his locker with a little too much focus.

“Did you sing again?” Fuji asked, turning to Eiji next to him. None of them had sung anything anywhere near where he could hear them yesterday and he was hoping that they would today. He had even bought a voice recorder just for the blackmail material. You never knew when you might need it.

“Hmm?” Coming out of what looked like serious thought, Eiji pulled on his shirt and looked over at him curiously, clearly distracted. “Oh, I'm sorry. Did you say something?”

“I asked if you sang again.”

“Oh,” Eiji said, busy pulling his shoes out of his locker. He shook his head. “No, I didn't sing.” And he didn't appear likely to share any more than that while in the clubhouse so Fuji made a vague noise, nodded, and left it at that.

But by the time break came he was simply too curious to keep quiet and so he sidled up to Inui, the most obviously upset, to ask him what was wrong. “I notice you and Kaidoh aren't talking,” he commented mildly, “Did something happen?”

Having been writing something in his notebook, Inui seemed to falter and paused in his notes, having to noticeably get himself back together before beginning to write again. “No.”

Sensing a challenge, Fuji smiled. “Are you sure?”

Inui nodded shortly, putting his notebook away and turning to face him calmly. “Yes.”

“It's just . . . you're slipping.” Fuji knew Inui would know what he was talking about.

But Inui could be stubborn too. “I'm afraid I have no idea what you are talking about.”

So something was wrong. Fuji's smile grew just a little bit. “Then you haven't noticed how upset Kaidoh seems?”

Inui's face was carefully blank. “Oh?” He turned in Kaidoh's direction as if to just notice for the first time. The other boy was seated alone on the bench, drinking from his water bottle with a dark scowl on his face. “So he is,” voice kept free of all inflection.

“Aren't you going to go talk to him?”

“No,” Inui said, turning back to him calmly. “I believe it would be best if he were to deal with this problem by himself.”

And now this was interesting. “Even you are not that callous.”

“The data it could provide would only be to his benefit.”

“But is that really how a good boyfriend would react, though?” Fuji asked, smiling as he continued their careful dance of words.

And that actually seemed to score a direct hit. Inui's carefully crafted mask of calm faltered and for just a moment he looked pained. “I'm afraid there won't be any need for that anymore,” he said.

“Oh?” Fuji looked only mildly curious, but inside there was a dangerous calm. He knew what Inui was going to say and this was not good news.

Inui stared at the ground. “He broke up with me,” he told Fuji dully.

“But you are going to fix this, I trust?” Fuji asked, starting to get serious. He didn't like it when people other than himself hurt his friends. Even if they did do it to themselves.

And Inui got himself back together, looking up and adjusting his glasses. “Of course,” he said simply, turning back to Fuji. “I already have a plan.”

Which was good. Fuji smiled in approval and tilted his head pleasantly. “Anything I can help you with?”

“No. I believe it would be best if I were to handle things in my own way.”

Smiling again, Fuji nodded agreeably. “That is probably true. I—

“I often tell myself that we could be more than just friends,” came Eiji's voice, “I know you think that if we move to soon it would all end. I live in misery when you're not aro-ound. I won't be satisfied till we're taking those vows.”

Shocked, the two team sadists turned suddenly to find Eiji singing. He and Oishi had apparently not quite succeeded in ignoring each other and Eiji was now standing there, singing his heart out.

“There'll be some love makin', heart breakin', soul shakin' lo-oo-o-o-oove,” Eiji sang. “Oh love makin', heart breakin', soul shakin',” he stopped and turned to Oishi intently. “What's it gonna beeee cause I can't pretend? Don't you wanna beeee more than frie-ends? Hold me tight and don't let go-oo. Dooon't let go-oo. Have the right to lose contro-ol. Dooon't let go-oooo.”

This was just what Fuji had been waiting for. Pleased, Fuji pulled his voice recorder from out of nowhere and nodded his goodbye to Inui, who had taken out his notebook again, before approaching for a better sound. Eiji was his best friend but that didn't mean he was immune to blackmail attempts. It was for his best really.

“I often fantasize the stars above are watchi-i-ng,” Eiji continued. “They know my heart and speak to yours like only lovers do. If I could wear your clo-o-oothes I'd pretend I was you and lose contro-ool. There'll be some love makin', heart breakin', soul shakin' lo-oo-o-o-oove. Oh love makin', heart breakin', soul shakin',” Eiji took a deep breath and prepared for his next bit, “Oh-oh-oooh-oh-ooooh yeah!” Eiji's voice got loud as he wailed, before turning to Oishi again. “What's it gonna beeee cause I can't pretend? Don't you wanna beeee more than frie-ends? Hold me tight and don't let go-oo. Dooon't let go-oo. Have the right to lose contro-ol. Dooon't let go-oooo.”

Oishi was looking more than embarrassed, obviously hating that Eiji had chosen right then to start singing and most likely just plain uncomfortable with the actual song material. Off to the side, Ryoma just looked bored while Momo grinned widely, obviously loving this.

But Eiji still continued. “Runnin' in and out my liiife has got me so confuuused. You've got to make the sacrifiiice. Somebody's gotta choo-o-oose. We can make it if we try.” Eiji came up to Oishi and grabbed his hands, face completely serious. “For the sake of you and I. Together we can make it riii-i-iight.” Eiji's hands tightened around Oishi's and pulled him in tighter. Oishi tried to get away but with no luck. “What's it gonna beee cause I can't pretend?” Eiji sang. “Don't you wanna beee more than frie-ends? Hold me tight and don't let go-oo. Dooon't let go-oo. Have the right to lose contro-ol. Dooon't let go-oooooo.” (3)

The song ended on a long note and Eiji seemed to realize what had just happened. His face turned bright red as he hurriedly dropped Oishi's hands, jumping away quickly and staring at the ground. Oishi obviously wanted the ground to swallow him whole, his whole face red and stubbornly staring off to the right where no one stood. Both carefully avoided the other's eyes.

Fuji chuckled and pressed stop. That had been gold.

“Are you finished?” Tezuka asked, not looking pleased.

“I'm sorry! I couldn't help it!” Eiji cried defensively, turning to him and waving his hands wildly in the air.

Still not looking pleased, but accepting that Eiji truly couldn't have helped it, Tezuka nodded. Besides it was still break. Eiji could do whatever he wanted. And if he wanted to sing then good for him.

And it seemed Oishi couldn't stand the embarrassment of knowing that everybody had witnessed that, ducking his head and muttering, “Excuse me for a minute,” before quickly making his exit. Eiji looked a little hurt by this reaction but didn't follow.

And Momo finally couldn't hold it in anymore and started to laugh loudly, slapping his knee and near doubling over.

Ryoma gave the older boy a look and smacked him. Hard. “Shut up, Momo-senpai.”

 

 

“Don't Be Cruel” by Elvis Presley

“There's A Fine, Fine Line” from the musical Avenue Q

“Don't Let Go” by EnVogue