[Prince of Tennis] Seven Days: The Seventh

[shiraume_fic]

Seven Days: The Seventh

1,262 words. Rated G. Slice of life with humor. Written for Tezuka’s birthday, 2012-10-07.



In Tezuka’s experience, if he was dragged into something bizarre, it was usually part of Oishi’s plan, generously helped along by Kikumaru. If that something had more than one backup plan neatly tiered, it was likely Inui’s work. If he didn’t see, hear, or smell it coming, then he could always blame Fuji for it.

(If he survived all of the above mostly intact, he often had Kawamura to thank.)

That was why, when Tezuka opened his door to Oishi and Fuji’s smiling faces, he had exactly three seconds to consider the relevant facts – one, it was his birthday; two, his mother insisted on celebrating it with a Sunday family lunch rather than dinner; and three, his mother asked him to answer the door – and decide on the best course of action.

Namely to slam the door shut.

Naturally, he found it jammed with a well-placed sneakered foot. Before he could try again the door was yanked open, and Tezuka found himself face to face with Inui and Kawamura, who gave him a smug grin and an apologetic smile each, and promptly grabbed him.

“See? I told you we all had to come.” Kikumaru was leaning on Oishi’s shoulder, watching the spectacle with undisguised relish. Tezuka’s only consolation was that he didn’t find the rest of the tennis club – not even Momoshiro and Kaidoh, to his surprise – waiting outside his house. And there was his fact four: his suspiciously unsurprised mother was cheerfully waving and wishing them a pleasant time, and Fuji was giving her a polite bow – of course.

“We already have permission from your mother,” Oishi explained, as if that should allay any concerns Tezuka might have left at being unceremoniously kidnapped from his home. “We’ll be back before ten. And we’ll be chaperoned after six. Everyone worked really hard to prepare everything and – it’ll be fun!”

Tezuka would have pointed out his idea of fun didn’t include being forcibly dragged off to a birthday party, but he noticed the identical smile stretched on Inui and Fuji’s faces and thought better of it. He held back a sigh, and pinned Oishi with a stern look. “Before ten,” he returned, and Oishi nodded. Behind Oishi, Kikumaru gave Fuji a thumbs-up, taking the capitulation for what it was.

“It’ll be fun,” Fuji said softly at his right. Tezuka leveled him a withering look, already having a reasonable guess who masterminded the plan’s execution. Fuji smiled at him, unfazed. “You’ll see.”

“If I must.” Just then it occurred to him: it was only one-thirty in the afternoon. “Fuji...”

The quiet chuckle was his only answer as they arrived at the bus station. Before he could ask where they were going, the rest of his team pushed him into the bus and piled in after him.

~*~*~*~

The first part of the plan, it turned out, was a matinee performance of a stand-up comedy show. Momoshiro and Kaidoh, who were apparently charged with the seat-acquiring duty, met them inside the performance hall, having managed to snag them eight seats in the center-front section. As expected the place was too loud for his liking. Kikumaru and Momoshiro kept laughing loudly at every joke, and Kaidoh kept yelling equally loudly for them to stop. Inui’s dry voice continued to drone out a feature-length commentary to his left, interspersed by Kawamura asking Oishi to explain a punch line, and Oishi patiently repeating each one. Only Fuji, a seat over to his right, presented a blessed spot of silence, broken only by soft laughter at the most inappropriate moments possible.

After the show – and it turned out the actual party wasn’t until six –Tezuka found himself ushered to a karaoke bar. An hour of Momoshiro’s impassioned singing and Tezuka was sure his hearing would never be the same again. At least Fuji and Kikumaru chose songs that didn’t distort their voices to horrendous heights. But Kawamura had no sense of pitch, Oishi kept missing the beat, and the less was said about Inui and Kaidoh’s singing, the better. And after being coaxed to sing a rendition of a Hirai Ken hit single, he made a mental note to decline the next time Fuji offered to lend him music CDs.

It was amazing how much the sight of Kawamura Sushiya relieved him. That was, until he realized the party proper included the entirety of Seigaku Tennis Club. The interior of the restaurant had been redecorated by the overly-enthusiastic club members, who seemed to have grabbed every piece of decoration available in blue. The cacophony of noises going at full-blast made him extremely glad the third-years at least had the foresight to reserve the restaurant for the evening, especially since Ryuuzaki-sensei (who came surprisingly well-dressed in blouse, skirt, and a stylish red sweater) seemed disinclined to rein in the unruly crowd. By some miracle Oishi managed to stop everyone long enough to sing him happy birthday, and Tezuka looked down at the custom-ordered cake, shaped like a miniature tennis court with HAPPY BIRTHDAY TEZUKA-BUCHOU written in large block letters, and couldn’t help feeling touched. Even as his eardrums regretted the fact, every single member of the tennis club had come to celebrate his birthday.

Tezuka looked away from the small mountain of presents in the corner of the room to the piece of cake placed in front of him, complete with a tiny tennis-playing figurine on top, and looked to his right with unerring instinct. “Your work?” he asked softly, just barely audible above the clamor. Fuji smiled at him, eyes twinkling. Just then, his phone chimed, and Tezuka flipped it open to find a message accompanied by a picture.

Happy birthday buchou, the message read. Tell Fuji-senpai this was a pain and his favor’s expired. The picture was of a sleepy-eyed Echizen, taken with a phone, looking as if he’d just gotten up for the morning. Tezuka recalled seeing Fuji make a call earlier, and shook his head.

“Don’t trouble yourself with unnecessary things.”

“No more than you do,” was Fuji’s placid answer. “You can tell him I consider us even when you message him back later.”

The thing with Fuji was, one had to think fast and consider several factors at once. Tezuka remembered messaging Oishi from Kyuushuu during the Regional Tournament, and how the simple gesture made him feel as if he too were fighting alongside his team. Echizen’s message was timed eight o’clock exactly, and the last he heard, Echizen was in New York. Given their time difference, whatever favor Echizen owed must have been significant if it got him out of bed this early in the morning. (Which probably meant he was better off not knowing what it was.) And Oishi’d said they’d finish before ten o’clock.

“When should I be messaging him back?” Since you obviously planned this to the last detail, Tezuka thought, hardly needed to be said.

“At nine o’clock, when the fireworks are in full swing. Don’t forget to send pictures.”

If asked, Tezuka would have disowned the short laugh that escaped him. Probably -- if Fuji hadn’t chosen that very moment to lean closer and murmur, “Many happy returns,” his smile brighter and warmer than Tezuka had ever seen.

Since Fuji did, Tezuka let his mouth quirk in a small smile and murmured back a “Thank you.” Inui’s glasses glinted across the table, and the ostensive lack of a camcorder didn’t reassure Tezuka one bit. But unlike the picture from the National Tournament, he was reasonably sure this one wouldn’t end up on the front page of their school newspaper.

Maybe.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TEZUKA!

Notes: DONE! The Hirai Ken single in question is “Hitomi wo Tojite.” Kudos if you can guess why I chose this one! One of Tezuka’s lines (“Don’t trouble yourself with unnecessary things.”) must be credited to Petronia’s “On Ice”. I think I also stole a line off thehoyden’s “Minor Conspiracies”. If I stole more lines and forgot to credit, please forgive?