Tennis Sanctuary

◊   ◊   ◊

Branch

Lady Crysiana

Chronolith

Lys ap Adin

Shiraume

Presenting the Crack Crossover of Doom. The Rikkai tennis team sell their souls to Mad Hatter, angels descend on Seigaku and Fudoumine, Crowly has possessed Jirou while the Anti-Christ meets Setsuna, Tsuzuki and Hisoka visit St. Rudolph, Ukitake and Kyouraku investigate Rokkaku, and Anthy is making friends with Kurai. Spoilers: Continuity flaps freely in the breeze, on this one, and there are only mild spoilers for the Kantou arc of PoT and the ending of CCS. There are particular YnM spoilers for the Devil's Trill and St. Michael's arcs (manga). The spoilers for AS are more extensive, but also more implicit. Saiyuki spoilers for character pasts shown in Gaiden.

Ink Burns

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

This is a work of fanfiction, produced according to the principles of transformative fair use as put forward in US copyright law, and abiding by the custom and practice of fan-produced work in Japan, where the source texts were created. No author is in any way affiliated with any of the creators of the source texts, nor with the companies who distribute their products, nor any other rights holder, and these stories were not authorized by either the creators or the producers. Ink Burns is a fan site and the material here is freely provided for the enjoyment of fellow fan-community members; there is no commercial infringement.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 US license at the Ink Burns fanfiction archive (http://www.branchandroot.net/archive/).

"Time Table" published on 2005-01-04 15:36:02.

"What's in a Name" published on 2005-09-23 17:20:21.

"Revenge" published on 2005-01-11 17:32:43.

"Sight" published on 2005-01-04 17:49:40.

"Zettai Ni" published on 2005-01-04 20:18:47.

"Unexpected Guests" published on 2005-09-23 20:36:24.

"Camoflage" published on 2005-01-04 21:08:44.

"Visiting Hours" published on 2005-01-04 21:28:53.

"Under the Knife" published on 2005-01-04 21:40:41.

"On the Other Side of Town" published on 2005-01-04 21:51:07.

"Offers" published on 2005-01-04 22:01:50.

"Long Story" published on 2005-01-05 13:11:01.

"On Playing with the Angelic Host" published on 2005-01-05 13:16:22.

"Unexpected Visitors" published on 2005-01-05 13:21:24.

"Facing the Music" published on 2005-01-05 13:27:27.

"Parallel" published on 2005-01-05 13:34:08.

"Interlude" published on 2005-01-05 13:43:12.

"The Shine" published on 2005-01-07 14:07:14.

"Talking Sense" published on 2005-01-05 14:12:10.

"Belonging" published on 2005-01-09 14:21:09.

"Nine Tenths" published on 2005-01-05 14:30:01.

"Engarde" published on 2005-01-05 14:36:47.

"Understanding" published on 2005-01-07 15:03:41.

"Ministers of Grace" published on 2005-01-08 15:09:10.

"Declarations of War" published on 2005-01-05 15:15:23.

"Profession" published on 2005-01-06 15:21:29.

"Double Entendre" published on 2005-01-05 15:28:34.

"Great Minds" published on 2005-01-09 16:24:12.

"Games Without Frontiers" published on 2005-01-06 16:27:54.

"Arrangements" published on 2005-01-05 16:33:29.

"Such a Kicking" published on 2005-01-05 16:37:16.

"Secondhand Angels" published on 2005-01-05 16:51:26.

"Persuasion" published on 2005-01-05 17:26:06.

"Headaches" published on 2005-01-05 17:31:29.

"Green Eyed" published on 2005-01-05 17:34:55.

"Relatives" published on 2005-01-05 17:44:33.

"In the Family" published on 2005-01-10 17:53:06.

"Addition and Distraction" published on 2005-01-10 14:11:32.

"Regarding" published on 2005-01-18 14:13:47.

"Marked" published on 2005-01-10 14:34:18.

"Tickets to Zimbabwe" published on 2005-01-06 14:47:40.

"A Small Problem" published on 2005-01-06 14:55:44.

"Cost" published on 2005-01-18 15:02:12.

"Mother Hen" published on 2005-01-12 15:57:37.

"Family Reunion" published on 2005-01-06 15:59:44.

"Better" published on 2005-01-06 16:22:16.

"Saintly" published on 2005-01-06 16:28:09.

"Balance" published on 2005-01-06 16:31:42.

"History Lesson" published on 2005-01-12 16:36:54.

"Worth" published on 2005-01-06 16:59:39.

"Willing" published on 2005-01-21 17:45:47.

"Over the Bone" published on 2005-01-16 17:50:49.

"Compassion" published on 2005-01-29 18:05:02.

"The Dotted Line" published on 2005-01-10 18:10:28.

"Sealed With A Kiss" published on 2005-01-10 22:33:35.

"The Morning After" published on 2005-01-06 22:35:17.

"Baiting" published on 2005-01-25 14:18:46.

"Answers" published on 2005-01-29 14:42:26.

"Practicalities" published on 2005-01-30 14:51:47.

"Post-Game" published on 2005-01-12 15:01:15.

"The Dangers of Boredom" published on 2005-01-07 15:19:46.

"Echo" published on 2005-01-07 15:52:35.

"Interesting Times" published on 2005-02-02 16:15:29.

"The Devil Went Down to Hyoutei" published on 2005-01-07 16:21:04.

"Cooperative Ventures" published on 2005-08-27 17:16:16.

"Teacher" published on 2005-09-23 17:48:39.

"Logical Conclusion" published on 2005-01-12 17:50:55.

"Reconnaissance " published on 2005-01-07 17:58:49.

"Home Again, Home Again" published on 2005-09-24 19:33:29.

"This Time" published on 2005-01-07 19:39:45.

"Recruiting" published on 2005-01-07 19:45:52.

"Compromise" published on 2005-01-07 19:53:48.

"Hard to Get" published on 2005-01-19 19:58:04.

"A Demon and Hir Boy" published on 2005-01-10 20:01:22.

"The Direct Approach" published on 2005-01-07 20:05:28.

"The Sound of Music" published on 2005-01-11 20:10:49.

"Irony" published on 2005-01-07 20:16:07.

"Outtakes One" published on 2005-01-04 17:00:32.

"Outtakes Two" published on 2005-01-04 17:10:58.

Attributions can be made by author's name and a link to the archive.

This ebook edition was published on September 6, 2019 by the Ink Burns fanfiction archive.

Cover illustration is "Effect of the Butterfly" by Anastasiya Markovich, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike (http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Anastasiya_Markovich_Effect_of_Butterfly.jpg).

Cover design by Branch.

Time Table

Branch

This is a visual index containing all the Tennis Sanctuary fics in order of occurrence. It's laid out as a table, since so many happen simultaneously.

This bit of insanity is a series of shorts that cross over Angel Sanctuary with Prince of Tennis... and Card Captor Sakura and Yami no Matsuei and Good Omens and Shoujo Kakumei Utena and Saiyuki and occasional snippets of other stuff like Bleach, Fushigi Yuugi, Narnia, Buffy and Into The Woods. *authors wave cheerily from the shores of Fangirl Hell*. There are three authors involved: myself, Lys ap Adin, and Lady Crysiana. Stories are labled with B, L or C accordingly. Guest appearances by Shiraume and Chronolith.

Spoilers: Continuity flaps freely in the breeze, on this one, and there are only mild spoilers for the Kantou arc of PoT and the ending of CCS. There are particular YnM spoilers for the Devil's Trill and St. Michael's arcs (manga). The spoilers for AS are more extensive, but also more implicit. Saiyuki spoilers for character pasts shown in Gaiden.

Over-all genre: Total Crack, sub-genres noted in summaries. General rating: I-2 to I-3, exceptions noted individually.

Since so many of the stories take place simultaneously, we decided to index them as a table, as well as a list. Each story title appears under the team most invovled, though more than one may be significant players.

Place mouse over story title to get summary.

Ohtori Academy

Rikkai Dai

Seigaku

Fudoumine

Hyoutei

St. Rudolph

Rokkaku

Backstory

What's in a Name B

Revenge B

Sight C

Zettai ni CH

Unexpected Guests B

Camouflage L

Kantou and After

Visiting Hours L

Under The Knife B

On The Other Side of Town C

Offers C

Long Story B

On Playing With The Angelic Host C

Unexpected Visitors C

Facing The Music L

Parallel L

Interlude (I-4) L

The Shine B

Talking Sense L

Belonging (I-4) B

Nine-Tenths L

Engarde CH

Understanding B

Ministers of Grace B

Declarations of War L

Profession B

Double Entendre CH

Great Minds B

Games Without Frontiers B

Arrangements C

Such a Kicking CH

Secondhand Angels L

Persuasion C

Green Eyed L

Headaches C

Relatives C

In The Family B

Addition and Distraction B

Regarding B

Marked B

Tickets to Zimbabwe C

A Small Problem L

Cost B

Mother Hen B

Family Reunion L

Better S

Saintly L

Balance C

History Lesson B

Worth (I-4) L

Willing B

Over The Bone B

Compassion B

The Dotted Line B

Sealed With A Kiss B

The Morning After L

Nationals and After

Baiting B

Answers B

Practicalities B

Post-Game B

The Dangers of Boredom C

Echo L

Interesting Times B

The Devil Went Down to Hyoutei L

Cooperative Ventures B

Teacher B

Logical Conclusion (I-4) B

Reconnaissance L

Home Again, Home Again B

High School

This Time B

Later Life and Afterlife

Recruiting C

Compromise S

Hard To Get B

A Demon and Hir Boy B

The Direct Approach C

The Sound of Music B

Irony C

Extra: A Selection of Our Comments to Each Other During Writing. Set One, Set Two.

What's in a Name

Branch

Belial and Kanzeon have tea. Drama, I-2

Belial took another sip of hir tea and aimed a glittering smile at the being across the table. "So. We've caught up on gossip, traded fashion tips, and one has flattered your latest blend. Don't you think it's time we got around to business?"

Kanzeon lips curled up in a smile. "I still say sheer is the perfect look for you."

"One will keep it in mind," Belial promised. "You'll see it the day one sees you in a hat. A curl-brimmed felt number with peacock feathers, perhaps."

Kanzeon laughed. Belial half lidded hir eyes.

"Did you do it on purpose?"

"Do what?" Kanzeon asked, innocently, immediately continuing. "I would never interfere in the working out of a Heavenly sentence."

Belial took a demure sip. "Excellent delivery," se judged. "Good form, not over-exaggerated. But the gleam in the eyes somewhat detracts from the sincerity."

"I'll make a note of it," Kanzeon promised.

"You gave them their original names back," Belial murmured.

"Only my nephew, who has, no one could argue, been making excellent progress. Barring that lingering taste for guns." Kanzeon leaned back and crossed hir legs. "I certainly can't be responsible for what two random humans name their children. Perhaps the mothers thought the names would be efficacious against the demonic blood from the fathers." Kanzeon's smile was angelic.

Which was to say, Belial reflected, it was vicious, ruthless and hungry. Se couldn't help approving, really. "Well, one will keep an eye on them, then," se said, rising. "Since they are, after all, the children of one's own people."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Kanzeon purred.

End

Revenge

Branch

How Ryouma got so girl-clueless. Humor, I-1

Gabriel knew she probably shouldn't have done it. It wasn't becoming for one of the Great Angels to curse a human out of pure spite. But she couldn't quite help the warm glow of vengeful satisfaction as she completed the last flourish on the malediction. She'd been having a bad day. Actually, she'd been having a bad century. Heaven was in complete uproar and disarray, Sevothtarte was gaining more power every day, and Gabriel had a bad feeling that she was the White Bastard's next target.

So she really hadn't been in any mood to be forgiving when a human male had sidled up behind her and squeezed her breasts. And then stood there with a considering look, as if he were evaluating the merits of this or that loaf of bread, before declaring her "nice" and asking if she wanted to take a ride with him. The leer had made it perfectly clear that he wasn't talking about cars.

And since she had been down in Assiah covertly, she couldn't obliterate him on the spot, which only added insult to injury.

"Gabriel-sama?" Arariel leaned around the doorway, and raised her brows at the seal Gabriel had just completed. "Um. Someone due for a little divine punishment?"

"Eminently," Gabriel said, between her teeth.

Arariel took a few cautious steps into the room. "Isn't it a little unkind to take it out on an unborn, though?"

Gabriel smiled more genuinely. "He'll be fine with the boys. It's just girls that he won't have any skills at all with. The child shouldn't have a problem; it's his father that will have fifty fits." She directed her smile down at the completed curse.

Arariel put a gentle arm around her shoulders. "Feel better, now Gabriel-sama?"

Gabriel laughed.

End

Sight

Lady Crysiana

A bit of Tezuka's family background. Drama With Humor, I-2

In one of the few speeches Kunimitsu's father made that Kunimitsu's grandfather approved of, the man declared, "Everything is about connections - who you know, you notices you, and especially who you can rely on." His grandfather had declared the rest of the speech to be garbage, but that was hardly unexpected.

Tezuka had been eight at the time, and had therefore not felt that going to his mother to ask about what types of people he should know was inappropriate.

Tezuka Ayana gave her son a particularly bright smile and queried, "Why ask me rather than your father or grandfather?"

Kunimitsu looked at his mother gravely and replied, "I'll meet all their associates because I'm the only son. You have other friends." He stood and waited politely as Ayana nodded consideringly.

"Go and get your coat on," Ayana said decisively. "You can come with me on my errands and meet my friends, and some family." She shooed Kunimitsu off to get his coat.

Five hours later, Kunimitsu decided that his mother knew some very strange people. Especially the loud drunken lady who lived in the disappearing house. Though he had to admit that the toymaker with the tiny dolls was interesting, if insane, and the archeology professor seemed to be a man that even his grandfather would consider upstanding. He wasn't sure why they had visited a willow tree. His questions were mostly answered when they arrived at an apartment, where his mother knocked on the door.

"This is my younger cousin's home," she explained. "He just got back from China, so I wanted to give him a few hours to move in before saying hello." She smiled brightly as the door opened a crack, and didn't flinch when the person on the other side reacted to her presence with what could not be called a screech only for politeness's sake.

"Xiao Lang," Ayana said brightly, "It's wonderful to see you. I'm your cousin, Tezuka Ayana, remember?"

Kunimitsu noted that the boy didn't seem to be past his teens, certainly, and that the words seemed to calm him down. "You look like my oldest sister," he managed, taking in a deep breath. "...Uh, so why are you over here?"

Ayana gestured to Kunimitsu. "I wanted my son to be able to see like most of the family does. He has enough latent power for it, and he really needs to be on his guard for that sort of thing, especially now, doesn't he?"

Xiao Lang eyed Kunimitsu. "Is he...?"

"He belongs to his father's family," Ayana reassured him. "Don't worry about interference from me - I think you and that girl are adorable." She smiled brightly as this caused Xiao Lang to blush and sputter. "Can you help me?" she asked finally.

"...bring him in," the boy sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

Afterwards, Kunimitsu found that he did understand why they went to see the willow tree. He noticed many other things as well, and his mother explained, as they walked, that what Kunimitsu saw had been there already, but most people just didn't notice it. Most of her friends were people who could and did see those things, she went on.

Kunimitsu nodded, turning to catch a glimpse of a boy a year or two older than himself, who was running after a girl who had to be his sister. "That boy has wings," he commented.

"Probably an angel," Ayana said. "There have been a lot of them around, recently. No one knows why."

"An angel," Kunimitsu murmured. "I'll remember."

Zettai Ni

Chronolith

Kurai finds something odd in her realm. Drama, I-3

"Are you sure?"

Kurai sparred Noise a quick glance over her shoulder. Noise's one wing drooped noticeably, her eyes were dark with worry, and she chewed—cutely—on her bottom lip. She knew that she was asking a lot of her retainer, but she had a feeling that it would be best to investigate this newest anomaly within her realm on her own. Even if it did make Noise deeply and obviously unhappy.

"I'm sure."

"I don't like this."

Kurai laughed before she thought better of it. "I know. I'm sorry."

Noise sighed with great feeling and ran her hands through her hair, making it stand on end. "No, you're not. But could you at least avoid getting too damaged as I do not want to explain to those who care about you exactly what happened and why."

She put her forehead against her best friend and companions. "I can't make promises I can't keep. But I'll try." Without moving her head she locked eyes with Noise and grinned, "I wouldn't want you to deal with an unhappy Setsuna."

Noise tilted her head up and pressed a kiss against Kurai's head. "Be quick. Be safe."

Kurai could only nod. Anything else would have been too much and unnecessary. She turned away from Noise's worried eyes to contemplate the perfect silver bubble that had manifested on the out edges of her realm. The bubble touched Assiah, butting up against so closely that it seemed to rub raw the psychic skin keeping the planes apart. Staring at it she thought she saw flickering images of a castle, a forest, a cathedral, and for a moment, and endless plain of horizons. She didn't really know how she was going to get from the here of Gehenna to the there of the not quite real place inside that bubble. Not knowing what else to do she placed her hands against the silver, misty edge and pushed forward.

She heard Noise's yell and then a roar like the rushing of a thousand wings and then there was nothing.

"Why are you here?"

She looked up into eyes too dark a shade of green to be quite human and the way eternity echoed was definitely not human. The girl, on the edge of womanhood with the subtle swell of breast and hip just beginning, wore a short red shift and gold bracelets that looked more like shackles than jewelry watched with perfect neutrality. Kurai picked herself up off the gray, dusty ground as she considered her answer. The emptiness of the place, and the knowledge in her companion's eyes, makes her nervous.

"Because this place is in my realm."

The woman-girl cocked her head to the side, purple hair falling along the side of her face, half obscuring those inhuman eyes. "The place inside my head is much bigger than the place outside it."

Kurai did not know what to make of that comment, so she went around it. "Who are you?"

That seemed to give the woman-girl a pause. She fiddled with the gold bracelets—shakles—awkwardly as she thought about it. "I am the Witch."

"Witch?" Kurai repeated, tasting the term and the power inherent within it.

"Because I have no prince to save me, because I want no prince to save me, I am the Witch." The woman-girl said plainly. There was no sorrow in this statement, only simple fact. "My world is fractured," the woman-girl locked eyes with Kurai and she felt as if she were drowning in all the years of this creature's life on the endless plain of horizons, "I am fractured."

"Why?" Kurai managed to gasp out, because she could not stand under the weight of that self-knowledge. A distint rumble of what might be thunder rolled around inside the emptiness. The woman-girl turned so fast her hair spun out in tangled arch around her. The look of naked fear made Kurai reach to touch her, but she froze when the girl snapped back around with a movement so fast it could not have been mortal, maybe not even immortal.

"What are you?" she whispered.

The woman-girl grabbed her by the shoulders, staring down in Kurai's eyes with an intensity that chilled her to the bone, and said with fierce desperateness. "The swords are coming, you have to run."

"Swords?" Kurai echoed dumbly. She was so confused. Even when Alexial came back as Setsuna and the world turned inside out, and Heaven and Hell were in chaos, she had not been this confused.

The woman-girl shoved her away so hard she stumbled, nearly twisting her ankle. "RUN!" She screamed. The woman-girl couched down, hair falling over her face, obscuring those wild, inhuman eyes. "You have to run. The swords..." the woman-girl's voice broke.

Kurai turned to start to run as the ground under her feet began to fracture. Cracks forming underneath her faster than she could move, the constant shaking nearly throwing her to the fragmenting ground. She tried to scream as the ground vanished and she was falling into nothing, and then there was darkness that wasn't so much the abscence of light, but the abscence of everything.

"Oi! Are you alright?"

Bright blue eyes and bangs the colour of easter basket grass filled her vision, and Kurai could only gape.

She was flat on her back in the middle of a grass hill. The birds sang sweetly in the summer air and she smelled honeysuckle and roses. The girl leaning over her smelled of roses, tea, and something sharp and tangy. And the desolate, endless plain was gone. Kurai sat up and rubbed her head. "I ... I think I am alright."

The girl smiled brilliantly, "Good! I was worried for a moment. You started falling down the stairs and would have gotten hurt, but I caught you and brought you here."

Kurai stared at her. There was something around the edges of the girl. Something that shone like starlight. Like the woman-girl in the endless plain this one was not quite ... normal. There was a quality of eternity etched into her being like the runes etched into Alexial's sword. The girl's smile faultered for a moment and Kurai realized that she had been staring a little too long. "I'm ... I'm sorry. Where am I?"

The girl frowned, and Kurai realized that was a very odd thing to say. She forced herself to smile apologetically. "I'm new." She said by way of explination.

That seemed to clear up everything. "Yeah, the Academy can be confusing for new students." She stuck out her hand in what struck Kurai as a singularly straight-forward gesture. As if everything this girl did was direct, honest, and so innocent it hurt. "I'm Tenjou Utena."

"I'm Kurai." She reached out to take Utena's hand when the other girl was tackled by what appeared at first glance to be a low flying missile of some sort.

"UUUUUTTTEEEEEEENNNNNNNNAAAAA!" the missile sort itself out as a giggle girl with dark brown hair and the sweetest smile Kurai had seen since Setsuna. The girl nuzzled Utena, practically purring her head off. "MMmmmmm found you!" she giggled.

"Utena-sama," Kurai looked up to see the woman-girl of the endless plain. Except she was wrong. The echoing power, and the knowledge, and the intensity of person was gone—even if the decided otherness was still there. Her hair was contained in tightly bound crown around her head, and those inhuman eyes were hidden by glasses. But it was the girl, or at least part of her. Kurai chewed on her bottom lip.

Utena held the brown haired girl at arms length, but smiled gently at her. "Wakaba, I meet someone new."

That got the attention of both the not-woman-girl and the brown haired missile. "This is Kurai. And she's new to Ohtori Academy."

Kurai couldn't focus on the introductions that happened afterward. She felt too disassociated and confused and completely and totally out of her depth to take in any more information. Her mind was spinning. She found herself arm in arm with the bouncy, giggling brown haired girl and the sweetness of her soul overwhelmed everything. Being near the girl was like ... hot chocolate in winter or strawberries in the middle of summer. She could feel herself relax bit by bit, as the girl—Wakaba?—giggle up at Utena, tried to draw Anthy into conversation, and showed Kurai the landmarks of this place.

She could feel power underneath her feet, could feel the different flavours of it as she walked the campus. And she could feel a very subtle, very familiar taint to everything. A feeling of unspeakable foulness that lurked on the edges of everything and made her shudder.

It wasn't until the sky began to change colour into the first hints of dusk that Kurai realized that she should probably leave, go back to Noise, and the relative safety of her own realm. She gently disentangled herself from Wakaba, and politely thanked Utena. Who smiled, shook her head, and said that no, no she was glad to have been there to help. Utena helped her to her feet and Kurai felt for a moment the flicker of a thousand wings and the shine of starlight.

And she was unnerved.

But it was Anthy, with her dark eyes and quiet manner that unnerved her the most. And when she turned to leave, it was Anthy who caught her eyes, even behind the shadowed rescesses of her glass. It was in those dark green eyes that she saw that woman-girl, that she saw Witch.

The Swords

And then she was standing in her own realm, next to Noise, shivering as if she had walked into the dead of winter naked.

Unexpected Guests

Branch

How Ryouma's uncle came to be away from the temple. Drama with Humor, I-3

Temples and their priests got all kinds of visitors, some of them pretty odd. But the last thing Konzen had expected, when he opened the door to answer the bell, was for a tangle of limbs to land on and hug him while crowing "Sanzou!"

Konzen really didn't like to be touched, something his ex-wife had pointed out frequently. All told, his older brother's death and Konzen's inheriting the family temple had just been a handy excuse for the divorce. But back to the business at hand.

Konzen promptly hauled the intruder loose and threw it into the wall, where it resolved into a rather gangly, golden-eyed young man. "Don't be an idiot," he instructed. "There hasn't been a Sanzou for hundreds of years." He frowned. "And why would you be looking for one at a place like this?"

"Oh, right. So, what are you called, now?" The boy's grin hadn't dimmed at all, despite a landing that had cracked plaster.

"Echizen Konzen, the same thing I've been called all my life," Konzen said, brusquely, wondering whether he should inquire for escapees at the local mental hospitals. "Who the hell are you?"

"Again? Ah. Um." The boy scratched his head. "Well, if you don't remember, then this'll be kind of a long story." He looked up hopefully. "I don't suppose you have any food around?"

Konzen was staring and making a mental list of hospitals to call, when his daughter looked into the entryway. "Otou-sama? Do we have a visitor?"

A good question, since he still wasn't sure what this person was. Besides, now, gaping at Nanako, thunderstruck. Konzen hoped he wasn't a pervert, like Konzen's younger brother or a few of his college associates. But, no, because the boy turned, wide-eyed to ask, "You have a daughter?"

The thought drifted across Konzen's mind that maybe the boy really did know him.

He shook his head impatiently and barked, "Who are you and what do you want?"

"Well," the boy fidgeted, "like I said, it's a long story..." His stomach interrupted with a noisy growl.

Nanako put a hand over her mouth to muffle a giggle. "Why don't I get you two some tea and a snack?" she offered.

Konzen rubbed a hand over his face. "Might as well." He had a bad feeling he wasn't getting an answer until this... visitor got food.

A few hours later Konzen had a headache, and was considering the benefits of sharing it.

He pinned his visitor with a level glare. "Let me get this straight. You're an elemental spirit, and you knew me in a past life, and, because of the events of that life, you have a couple very powerful demons after you now."

"Yup!" Goku (he'd finally gotten the boy's name half way into the story) agreed, tossing another dumpling into his mouth.

Konzen frowned, rubbing his forehead. The thing was, it all sounded horribly familiar, though he had no idea why. The only memory he had that twitched at Goku's rambling recitation was a memory of someone laughing. He didn't even know if it had been a man or a woman; only that whoever it was had been really damn annoying.

"And you came here to hole up and get some rest," he finished.

"Yup!" The cheerful, absolute trust in Goku's eyes disturbed Konzen. He'd never been looked at like that in his entire life.

Not this life, anyway.

He shook his head sharply, wishing he could glare at his own thoughts. "Great. Fine. Sleep in the guest room. Tonight, at least," he added, over Goku's happy crow. Temples were supposed to have charity, his father's voice said, in his mind. Konzen mentally gave the old man the finger. Still, it would give him time to call the hospitals.

"Aah!" Konzen bolted up in bed, panting, jerked awake from the most vivid, and hideous, dreams he'd ever had.

Lately, anyway.

"Sanzou?! I mean, Konzen?!" Goku skidded into his room with a rather ornate staff in hand. Konzen's eyes nearly crossed as visions of this moment in dozens of other rooms slid through his mind. Visions that usually involved demons, too. Konzen winced and then growled as he heard that laugh again, echoing through his head.

It did make him think of something, though. "Goku, can any of the demons after you track you?" he demanded.

Goku blinked. "Um. I don't think so. Well, maybe except for that one..." he trailed off, face screwed up in thought.

"In other words, yes." Konzen threw off the covers. "That gun you said I had. Do you know where it is now?"

As Goku opened his mouth a tiny glow like a golden firefly dropped out of the ceiling. It grew to about head size and then vanished.

A handgun and a box of shells clattered onto the floor.

This time, the laughter was audible to everyone.

Konzen glared at the ceiling. He also, however, scooped up the gun. "I'm not having demons in my temple," he stated. "We're leaving tomorrow."

"Okay," Goku agreed. "I'll go get some more sleep, then. 'Night, Konzen." He trailed out, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

Konzen closed the door, flicked on the light, and sat down to write a couple letters.

"You shouldn't be alone for long, and in the meantime, send all the temple business over to Yoshimori," Konzen told his daughter. "And what is all this?" he added, frowning at the boxes and baskets strewn over the table.

"Lunch," she told him, serenely. "So you and Goku-san don't have to stop too soon."

One of Konzen's maybe-memories jabbed him, suggesting that this was a very good idea. "Fine." He sighed, aggravated. "I don't know when we'll be back, but I'll write when I can."

She smiled, and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Don't worry, Otou-sama. And I won't either. Okay?"

He smiled in return.

As she waved him out the door, and he walked toward where Goku was head-down in the trunk of the car, exploring, Konzen reflected on how little his life seemed to have changed. The maybe-memories fit in with disturbing neatness. Those others who'd been beside him even reminded him a lot of...

He stopped dead for a long moment before common sense rescued him. No. That was ridiculous. It couldn't possibly be them.

Definitely not.

In any case, he sure as hell wasn't going to look up his college classmates to ask whether they'd been demons in a past life. He snorted at the very idea, and got into the car. "Goku! Hurry up."

Two weeks later...

Nanjirou sorted the mail, and raised a brow. A letter from Nii-san? He tore it open and read.

Dear Worthless Little Brother,

I have something to take care of that may take a while, so quit wasting your time over there and come mind the temple while I'm gone. Don't worry, Nanako will take care of the house.

Corrupt my daughter, and I'll put holes in you big enough to fit your tennis balls through.

Konzen

Nanjirou snorted. Yeah, that was Nii-san all over. As if Nanjirou were ever going to be conned into being a priest!

On the other hand...

Nanjirou tapped the envelope against his chin. They had always meant to go back some time. And Ryouma would be twelve soon, and the right age to start at Seigaku. It would be a free house, and someone to do the laundry. He strolled upstairs and stuck his head into his wife's office, caroling, "Honey? Got a letter you should see..."

End

Camoflage

Lys ap Adin

Crowley under cover. Humor, I-1

As far as cover went, it was nearly perfect. Sure, there were dangers, like the gimlet eye of the angel, who certainly suspected that something was not right, but couldn't put his finger on what that something might be. Crowley could deal with that in his sleep, and frequently did.

Dealing with his host body, on the other hand, presented certain inconveniences. Since he was only subletting, as it were, he could only lurk within his host's subconscious, rather than taking outright control, and that meant dealing with his host's little freaks and foibles.

All this meant was that he was not presently napping, but was bouncing on a tennis court, as his host fan-boyed over his buchou's latest cool new move. In the back of Jirou's head, Crowley rolled his eyes.

He was going to be very glad when the tournament season was over, and they could go back to napping their way through Jirou's adolescence.

Visiting Hours

Lys ap Adin

Mad Hatter visits Yukimura in the hospital. Drama, I-3

An individual of duller perception might have assumed se was seeking younger patients to entertain. A fool might have lashed out in a misguided effort to drive hir away.

It was not Seiichi’s judgment that was numb, and no one could call him a fool. “May I help you?” he rasped, and it galled him to find himself grateful for the ability to speak. Moving a hand to the call button, just in case, would have given away his weakness, and gained nothing, so he kept his hands folded and seethed at his body’s betrayal.

Belial smiled. “One,” se said, “was inclined to ask you the same.”

There were a multitude of possible responses to that. Seiichi considered hir smile, and tilted his head oh-so-carefully to the side. “I’m listening,” he murmured. “Go on.”

Belial sat, and made hir offer.

In the end, neither was surprised that he accepted it.

Under the Knife

Branch

Mad Hatter and Yukimura start to get acquainted. Drama, I-3

Seiichi was never sure what, exactly, alerted him to Mad Hatter's presence. Se moved like a shadow. He always knew when se arrived, though, as though the air pressure had suddenly dropped and painted the breeze with a hint of coming clouds.

"Experimental surgery, hm?" he asked without turning away from the window.

"One could just snap one's fingers." Hatter's breath was warm against the back of his neck. "One gets the impression from your other visitors that a miraculous recovery would be only what's expected from you."

"Miraculous?" Seiichi repeated in dry question.

"That was one's business, as a Virtue. His Majesty would probably forgive one moonlighting, just this once." Seiichi could hear Hatter's smile, and the darkness in it, delicate and raw. Dangerous. Which was fine as long as it didn't go beyond the two of them.

"And have you had much to say to my other visitors?" Seiichi inquired, turning slowly around and trying not to grit his teeth too visibly over the clumsy way his feet answered him.

Belial gave him a bright and charming curve of lips that didn't match hir eyes. "They are delightful boys, aren't they? But one finds you by far the most interesting." Mad Hatter ran a fingertip down Seiichi's cheek to trace his lower lip before falling away.

Seiichi sharpened his gaze to the edge that would hold Hatter. "Good."

End

On the Other Side of Town

Lady Crysiana

Ryouma gets an offer. Humor, I-2

Ryoma looked at the boy across from him skeptically. "Not that I think you're lying, but remind me why you're doing this again?"

"Call it sibling rivalry," Michael replied shortly. "Anyway, I can guarantee you that your captain's shoulder will be as good as if it were never hurt, once my people are done."

Ryoma raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "You remind me a lot of someone I know. I'd bet your brother would remind me of someone, too." Seeing Michael's dark look, Ryoma shrugged. "Thanks for the help, anyway. Why not just go to Tezuka-buchou?"

"Would he have agreed to let us help him?" Michael replied.

"...right. Thanks," said Ryoma.

Offers

Lady Crysiana

Michael talks to Tezuka. Drama with Humor, I-2

Tezuka was taking a break and drinking some water when he noticed the angel approaching. He was actually somewhat intrigued – this particular angel wasn’t doing anything to hide what he was, and had a look on his face that Tezuka recalled from constant dealings with Ryoma. He found himself somewhat surprised when the angel settled on the bench next to him.

“This is gonna be a weird question,” the angel said, “But do you believe in angels?”

Tezuka considered this question gravely, looking out towards the courts. He felt rather than saw the angel turn towards him and look at his profile. “I don’t disbelieve the possibility,” Tezuka said gravely, “But I’m not religious.”

The angel snorted. “Right. Well, hell and heaven exist, even though it’s not like most people say. Actually, and don’t ever tell anyone this, hell isn’t a bad place, with the management the way it is. But we have to keep some sort of standards, and that means that we all want the best souls, like you.”

Tezuka turned to look at the angel. “So you’re claiming to be an angel.”

The angel scowled. “Of course I’m an angel! What’d you think I was, a demon?”

Tezuka said with perfect serenity, “I wouldn’t think that most angels would be so enthusiastic about being under Lucifer.” He watched with interest as flames sparked around the angel’s head, and continued to watch as the angel got up to pace back and forth.

“I’m NOT interested in being…in being ruled by that bastard,” the angel snapped. “He has no business doing what he’s doing, and…Look, that’s not the point.” The angel brought his wings out. “See? Angel.”

Tezuka nodded. “I’m Tezuka Kunimitsu. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“…I’m Michael,” muttered the angel. He began to pace back and forth. “I’m not one of those people who schemes and does all that behind the scenes shit,” said Michael. “So I just want to ask you if I can fix your arm for you, get your team back on track…”

“No, thank you,” said Tezuka politely. “I rely on myself.”

Michael scowled and crossed his arms. “…fine, I can respect that. What about the rest of your team? Making sure that they’re not hurt? You know, like that kid, with the gold eyes and the cat.”

“Echizen is well the way he is,” said Tezuka sharply. “If you’d like to help someone else in need, Tachibana Kippei has had an injury recently.”

Michael nodded. “Fine, I won’t make an offer about Echizen. Good luck on the courts.” With that, the angel strolled off. Tezuka watched him leave, making a note to watch the other teams closely, once he returned.

Long Story

Branch

Belial introduces hirself to Rikkai. Drama, I-3

Masaharu nudged his partner. "Who's that?" he asked, nodding at the slight, lean figure in black lounging against the fence. Yagyuu finished a swallow of much needed water and raised a brow.

"I think that's Yukimura-san's visitor. The one from the hospital that no one ever quite managed to meet."

They both glanced over at Yukimura, who was laughing up at Yanagi. Masaharu smiled. He wasn't precisely pleased that he and Yagyuu had just been swept 6-2 by those two, but it was good to see Yukimura back in top form. Back to the question at hand, though.

"Oh, glorious leader," Masaharu drawled. "Did you invite the extra audience, today?"

For one heartbeat, Yukimura froze. "You noticed, then," he murmured.

Masaharu eyed their visitor's flamboyantly tailored tail coat and top hat. "A little hard not to."

Yukimura turned to face the watcher, eyes narrow. "Belial," he said, low and cold.

"Don't you think it's time one introduced oneself to your people?" the... man? Masaharu squinted... asked. Masaharu had to admit, he was impressed. He'd never seen anyone stand firm in face of an angry Yukimura, let alone stay so nonchalant.

"My people," Yukimura repeated, softly. "Yes."

"Of course, dear Seiichi-san, one wouldn't dream of interfering. Much." The man (?) brushed a rose in front of smiling lips, and Masaharu shared a startled glance with his partner. Where had that come from? Their visitor sauntered closer, running hooded eyes over all of them as the rest of the team drew closer to see what had caught their captain's attention. They received an extravagant bow. "So. Greetings. One is called Mad Hatter."

A frisson danced down Masaharu's spine as his gaze was caught by eyes blue as fire, and laughing. Laughing the way someone standing, somehow untouched, in the middle of catastrophe might laugh. His breath shivered in his chest, and he only realized that he'd taken a step forward when Yagyuu's hand on his shoulder jerked him to a stop.

"And under other circumstances," Mad Hatter murmured with a note of longing caress, "one would be delighted to have you for oneself. Ah well." He blew Masaharu a kiss, winked at Yagyuu, and turned back just in time to meet Yukimura's purposeful stride toward him with hands spread against their captain's chest. "One is most pleased to see you so fully recovered, Seiichi. One is sure the results will be well worth it."

And he was gone. Leaving Yukimura looking at the place he had been with a tangled mix of amusement and anger in his face.

"Who," Akaya asked, wide eyed, "was that?"

Yukimura passed a hand over his forehead and sighed. "Do all of you remember how my condition took a sudden turn for the better, a few months back?"

Everyone glanced at each other and nodded. Sanada and Yanagi, Masaharu noted, were hovering.

"Well, that was the deal I made..."

End

On Playing with the Angelic Host

Lady Crysiana

Tezuka's rules about angels. Humor, I-2

Tezuka adjusted his glasses and gave Ryoma the quiet, grave look that meant that the boy had done something that was not, as it were, directly forbidden, but that Ryoma certainly should have known better, given his buchou, the world, and the heavenly host. "Echizen," said Tezuka calmly, "What have I told you about dealing with the heavenly host?"

"...don't take computer games from them." Ryoma paused. "Oh, and ask how things are going in heaven and hell, because it's always good to be informed about one's allies and opponents." Ryoma's expression was decidedly sulky. "It's not as if I asked for anything like wings."

Tezuka chose to ignore this and simply murmured, "Who was it?"

Echizen blinked. "...uh, shortish, red hair, talked like a punk..."

"Michael, then," Tezuka said. He fell silent, his brow furrowed only to the point that people who knew him very well would notice. "He came to me."

Ryoma snorted. "Stupid of him to ask you..."

Tezuka's expression cleared. "He asked about you, actually."

".....I hope, whatever it was, you said no."

"I pointed him in Tachibana's direction." Ryoma could have sworn that Tezuka's eyes were smiling behind his glasses, but he decided that he didn't want to know what had just been inflicted on the Fudoumine captain.

"So, buchou," said Ryoma brightly, brushing angelic concerns away for the moment, "You're up for a game, right?"

Unexpected Visitors

Lady Crysiana

Michael encounters Setsuna at Fudoumine. Drama with Humor, I-2

The search for Tachibana led Michael to another set of tennis courts. Michael didn’t really see the attraction in this particular sport, though he understood the need to compete as the underlying principle of sports in general. He was about to walk over to the player called Tachibana when a familiar voice rang out behind him. “Oh, it’s you. Hey, what are you doing here?” Michael turned to eye Setsuna, not without a little surprise.

“I thought all of you left,” Setsuna continued. Despite his words, he was smiling easily, standing in his favorite slouched position. “So what’s up with you being here?”

“Belial is playing with souls, and I don’t want him to get a lot,” Michael replied shortly. He didn’t continue to say that he didn’t want Belial doing anything to benefit his brother in the long run, since Setsuna would assume it, anyway.

“Oh,” said Setsuna. “I’m just here to meet this guy I know, Tachibana Kippei. He’s kind of rough, but an okay guy. Good about protecting his friends.” Setsuna nodded over at Tachibana, who seemed to have noticed them and then dismissed the thought of them to continue practice. “We probably can’t catch him right now – they’re busy working for the nationals.”

Michael frowned. “So you’re friends with the guy Tachibana? Someone suggested that he might need some help.”

“Pfft. Not for his playing,” Setsuna declared, grinning. “Guy’s incredible on the courts. I love to see him kicking ass out there.” Setsuna frowned and shifted. “But yeah, if anything goes wrong with the shot he took to the head, he might need help.”

“Well, I could…” Michael paused, remembering his second’s warning about offering angelic assistance without considering the phrasing. “I could help him out, if that happens. If you really want me to.”

“Sure,” said Setsuna easily. “If you wanna help out a friend.” Setsuna waved to Tachibana again and turned to jog off. “Anyway, catch you later.”

Michael settled on the edge of the courts to wait for practice to end.

Facing the Music

Lys ap Adin

Sanada's and Yanagi's reactions to the whole story about Belial. Drama with Angst, I-3

Saying that Genichirou and Renji were not happy simply did not address the magnitude of their feelings on the subject.

Seiichi found that he couldn't really blame them; his own feelings upon seeing Mad Hatter's hunger for Niou were comparable enough that chiding them would have made him a hypocrite.

“What's in it for him?” Genichirou demanded, after his explanation, in simple terms, of the nature of his deal with Mad Hatter.

“That,” Seiichi said, coolly, with the weight of his team’s eyes upon him, “is a private matter between me and Hatter-san.”

His team allowed the matter to drop, for the time being, but Genichirou and Renji fell in at his side as he locked the clubhouse after practice. They followed him home, making small talk about the club and the team’s preparations for Nationals, and lingered in the kitchen to make small talk with his mother while she prepared a tray of snacks for them before Seiichi led them upstairs to his room.

Seiichi took the bed, Renji chose his normal seat at Seiichi’s desk, and Genichirou paced back and forth. The pacing lasted for some time before Genichirou whirled, crossing his arms and glaring at Seiichi. “Were you going to at least tell us?”

“If the need arose,” Seiichi said calmly, sipping his tea. “Which it did, today.”

That set Genichirou to pacing again, while Renji took a cake and asked, “A deal with the devil?”

“Not the devil,” Seiichi corrected him. “Hatter-san is a lieutenant of the devil’s, if I understand correctly.”

“And what does the devil’s lieutenant want with a junior high student’s soul?” Renji asked.

“I haven’t asked. Hatter-san is not the type to give away unnecessary information.”

“And knowing what he wants with your soul isn’t necessary information, Seiichi?” Genichirou was verging on an explosion.

“Not particularly,” Seiichi said. “When you’re not certain whether your body is going to be able to draw its next breath, and you can’t lift your hand to scratch your nose, and the tennis courts seem so far away that they might as well be on another planet, you find that the concept of hell loses a great deal of its terror.”

Genichirou stopped mid-stride, and when Renji spoke, he sounded stricken. “It was that bad?”

“Worse,” Seiichi said.

Genichirou turned back to him. “I don’t like it,” he said.

“I’m not asking you to,” Seiichi said, “but it was my choice to make, and I have no regrets.” He met Genichirou’s gaze and held it.

Genichirou nodded, satisfied, or at least placated, before grabbing his bag and leaving abruptly.

Seiichi laughed, soft and wry. “He took that rather well, don’t you think?”

“Well enough, although I suspect he’s heading off to disembowel straw dummies,” Renji said, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me what the terms of your contract are?”

“That’s really a rather personal question, Renji,” Seiichi told him.

“If you tell me, perhaps I can find a way around it,” Renji countered.

Seiichi blinked, and then smiled honestly for the first time since Mad Hatter had revealed hirself to his team. “I doubt you’ll find one.”

“It’ll make me feel better to try,” Renji insisted.

“All right,” Seiichi relented. “I’ll see about getting you a copy of the contract, such as it is.”

“Thank you.” Renji stood. “I need to be going. See you in the morning?”

“Of course.” Seiichi stood as well, and saw him downstairs. After Renji had put on his shoes, he said, “Thank you.”

Renji looked back at him, and smiled. “You’re welcome,” he said, and left.

Parallel

Lys ap Adin

Michael's offer to Fudoumine. Drama with Humor, I-2

“Are they allowed to do that?” the redhead wondered, after Michael had explained himself to the group of boys.

Michael shrugged. “No rules against demons and humans making contracts,” he said. “Kind of a long tradition behind it, really.”

The guy he was here to visit, Tachibana, seemed as pleased by the news as anything else. “So,” he said. “Yukimura will be playing at Nationals.” He practically glowed with anticipation.

“Yep,” Michael said.

“And you’re here because...?” the girl asked, eyes sharp.

“It’s hardly fair for Hell to go poking their noses into things without one of us investigating,” Michael said. He shrugged. “I’ve been given to understand that Fudoumine might be interested in some help.”

“We aren’t in the habit of looking for help outside our ranks,” Tachibana said, quietly. “Especially when help comes with strings attached.”

Geez, he sounded like Tezuka. Maybe it was something in the water. “I didn’t say there were strings, did I?” Michael retorted. “As it is, I’d be doing the favor for Setsuna as much as for you.”

The guys relaxed somewhat. “You know Setsuna?” the tall one with the bandanna asked.

“Oh yeah. Good guy to have at your back in a fight,” Michael said, grinning. “Look, if you don’t want my help, it’s cool.”

“Nii-san,” the girl said, quietly. “You’re still not fully recovered.” Her smile was sharp. “If Rikkai’s being helped by a demon, it’s only fair that you get a little help from an angel, don’t you think?”

That bit of logic coincided so neatly enough with his own that Michael had to grin. The boy with longish hair had something to say, too. “If we’re going to meet Rikkai at Nationals, you’ll want to be at your full strength,” he murmured, “especially if Yukimura is going to be there...”

The redhead grinned. “It’s almost like poetic justice,” he said, “don’t you think?”

Tachibana considered it. “It does seem appropriate,” he agreed, at length. “Very well; I accept your offer.”

Michael grinned. “You won’t regret it,” he promised, cracking his knuckles. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Interlude

Lys ap Adin

Sanada makes a further discovery. Angst, I-3

Seiichi knew the moment Genichirou noticed Mad Hatter’s seal, low on one hip and inconspicuous except to a thorough lover.

Genichirou went still. “What is this?”

“The Hatter’s mark,” Seiichi said, and there was no point in telling him how it had come to be there. “A seal for the contract.”

As he had half-expected him to, Genichirou pulled away and sat, back to Seiichi. “His mark,” he said, voice flat.

Seiichi sat up as well, and placed his hands on Genichirou’s shoulders. “Part and parcel of the deal, I’m afraid.” He kneaded the muscles that were already beginning to knot up again.

“Every time I have myself convinced that this has all been something Niou cooked up, something happens to prove me wrong.” He shook his head, and began gathering his scattered clothes.

“You’re going?” Seiichi asked.

“I—yes. I am.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I need to think. Sorry.”

Seiichi inclined his head. “I’ll be waiting when you’re done.”

“Will you?” Genichirou asked, doing up his last button.

“Of course.”

The Shine

Branch

Sanada and Belial talk about Seiichi. Drama, I-3

For once, Genichirou thought he might have spotted Mad Hatter's arrival beside the courts before anyone else. A quick glance at Renji, and a nod toward their captain detailed Renji to distract Seiichi's attention so Genichirou could take advantage of this.

They had discussed it days before.

"Hatter. I want to talk to you."

Bright blue eyes widened ingenuously. "Seiichi-san must have a tighter grip on all of you than one had thought," Hatter mused. "One was expecting you days ago. Very well, then, come along." When Genichirou hesitated to follow him, Hatter glanced back with a slow smile. "One wouldn't wish to distress Seiichi by doing this out in the open where anyone could see. Don't you agree?"

At another time the tone of lascivious suggestion might have made Genichirou turn around and head back to the court, but today he was far too angry.

"So?" Hatter asked, leaning against a tree.

"What do you want with Seiichi?" Genichirou asked, bluntly.

"His soul," Hatter answered.

Genichirou reminded himself, strenuously, of Renji's caution that he wouldn't get anywhere with Hatter unless he could keep his temper. He told himself it was just like dealing with Niou in a really bad mood. "What," he amplified through gritted teeth, "do you want his soul for?"

"To play with, of course," Hatter said with a bright smile. "It's lovely and shiny."

Genichirou knew it was a bad idea, and still couldn't stop himself. Red clouded his vision and he lashed out.

When the world stopped spinning he was flat on his back with Hatter kneeling over him, and his arms pinned under Hatter's hand and knee. The free hand was playing very, very sharp nails just under Genichirou's chin. "Did you really think one has lived this long without the ability to deal with people who want to kill one?" Hatter asked, amused.

"At the rate you must make enemies, I'm sure you've needed it," Genichirou shot back.

"You aren't entirely without interest yourself, you know," Hatter murmured, cold eyes glinting over a laughing mouth. "Now, one doubts Seiichi would be pleased if one damaged you too badly, so listen. One contracted for his soul, in return for some considerations and assistance. The bond of that contract gives one access to his soul, even now. One can touch it. Touch it, taste it, know it. And Yukimura Seiichi's soul is beautiful. One is really quite smitten."

Genichirou heaved against Hatter's hold, violently. "His heart belongs to us," he ground out, glaring.

"Of course it does."

Genichirou paused, staring up.

"One isn't actually blind, you know," Hatter said, patiently. "His heart belongs to you. And his soul will not come into one's keeping for some time yet. In the meantime, he's given a significant part of that to you lot, too. That doesn't mean one can't appreciate it in advance. And that," a nail flicked and Genichirou bit back a hiss, "is more clarity than you have any right to expect from a demon, let alone from oneself. Evidence of one's infatuation, no doubt." He licked Genichirou's blood, delicately, off one fingertip.

Genichirou gritted his teeth. "Is that," he enunciated distinctly, "supposed to make us feel better about Seiichi signing his soul into eternal torment?"

Hatter blinked. "One begs your pardon?" Then he paused, tapping a thoughtful finger against his chin. "Well, actually, no one doesn't, but in any case who said anything about eternal torment?"

Genichirou gave him a very suspicious look. "That is the general consensus on what Hell is."

Hatter's mouth curled in disgustingly smug delight. "There has been," he informed Genichirou, "a change of management recently. So there's no need to worry."

Judging from Hatter's grin, Genichirou's expression said quite clearly what he thought of that directive. Hatter did let him go, though, sliding away in a flicker of movement Genichirou couldn't quite follow. By the time Genichirou had gained his feet, the infuriating demon was nowhere to be seen.

"So?" Renji asked, as Genichirou joined him at the edge of the courts.

"It's all a joke to him," Genichirou stated, flatly.

Renji tipped his head. "What makes you think so?"

Genichirou narrowed his eyes, looking out over the practice in progress. "Because if he isn't joking then he's in love and I refuse to believe that."

"Hmm." They both fell silent for a time.

End

Talking Sense

Lys ap Adin

Kurai and Noise explain things to Sanada. Drama, I-3

“They are interesting; I’ll give them that,” Kurai said, after an afternoon of observation. “I can see what would attract Hatter.”

“They’re very strong-willed, for children,” Noise agreed.

“One would not let them catch one referring to them as children,” Belial observed, sliding out of a patch of shadow. “Have you considered one’s request, lovely Queen?”

Before Kurai could answer, Noise said, “This seems like an awful lot of effort just for a soul that’s already been signed away.”

Belial flattened a hand over hir heart. “One is a great believer in quality and thoroughness in one’s work.”

“I’ll just bet,” Noise grumbled. “...Kurai-sama?”

“I’ll do it,” Kurai decided. “Which one’s Sanada again?”

Belial indicated one of the humans. “That one.” Se paused. “One would mention that he is touchy.”

“And you have nothing at all to do with that,” Kurai said, absently, studying the boy in question.

“Perish the thought,” Belial murmured, as the boys began clearing the tennis courts. “Ah. It would appear that one has been noticed.” Se moved off to speak to the boy in question; Kurai and Noise trailed after hir.

“More friends?” the boy asked, with an assessing glance at Kurai and Noise. Kurai looked back at him just as critically, beginning to understand the attraction of this particular soul.

“Kurai, queen of Gehenna, and Noise, her retainer,” Belial said, with a sweeping gesture. “Your Majesty, Yukimura Seiichi.”

“And what brings you to my tennis courts?” Yukimura inquired, politely enough, despite the hint of steel in his voice.

“Hatter’s invitation,” Noise said.

Yukimura looked at Belial. “And are my tennis courts going to be a social clearing house for all sorts of demons now, Belial?”

Kurai felt her eyebrows hit her hairline, while Noise’s jaw dropped.

Belial waved a hand. “Not at all,” se said. “Her Majesty is here to relieve certain misapprehensions regarding her husband’s domain.” Se glanced pointedly in the direction of the boy se had indicated previously, who was standing a little ways off and obviously trying not to look too much like he was hovering.

Yukimura followed the glance. “Ah,” he said. “I see.” He looked back at Kurai. “In that case, welcome.”

“Thank you kindly,” Kurai said, drily. “We’ll try not to trouble you too much.”

“I appreciate it,” Yukimura said. He paused. “Your husband?”

“Hmph. We’re separated,” Kurai said, sparing a mild glare for Belial. “Hatter-san can explain, if you’re curious. Noise?”

“Ready, Kurai-sama.”

“Then we’re off,” Kurai said. She stuck her hands in her pockets and sauntered towards Sanada, Noise following close behind. “Hello.”

“And just who are you?” he asked.

Kurai hid a grimace, as Noise stiffened. Touchy didn’t begin to cover it. “This,” Noise said, “is Her Majesty, Queen Kurai of Gehenna.”

“Kurai’s fine,” she added hastily, placing a hand on Noise’s arm. “You’re Sanada, right?” He nodded. “Good. Now, it’s a lovely afternoon for a walk, don’t you think?” Without waiting for an answer, she linked her other arm in his. “Why don’t you walk with me for a ways?”

“What—” Sanada began to protest, but Noise seized his other arm, and the two of them managed to propel him forward while Yukimura and Belial laughed behind them and the rest of the boys stared in open curiosity. He struggled to free himself, and was remarkably strong for a human, but Kurai and Noise were demons and managed to keep their grips on him easily enough. “Let me go!” he hissed, as they pushed him away from the tennis courts.

“In a bit,” Kurai said, cheerfully. “First we need to talk.”

“I’m not interested,” he said, instantly. “I don’t want anything to do with your bargains.”

“Bargains?” Noise laughed. “You think we’re crazy enough to try and bargain with you after Hatter-sama’s declared you off-limits?”

Kurai silently applauded Noise. That had piqued Sanada’s curiosity enough to make him stop struggling for a moment. “Off-limits?” he repeated.

“Absolutely,” Kurai said. “And even if Hatter-san hadn’t, Yukimura-san’s expression when we arrived would have made it look like a bad idea. He seems very protective of what’s his.”

Sanada didn’t seem inclined to argue this. “If you’re not here to buy my soul, then what are you here for?”

“To talk,” Noise grunted. “At no small inconvenience to Her Majesty, I might add.”

“Not that much,” Kurai shrugged. “So, tell me, Sanada-kun—what do you know about Hell?”

“It’s where damned souls go when they die,” he said, promptly. “To be punished for their sins by demons.”

“Okay. And heaven?” Kurai said, encouragingly.

“Where good people go after they die,” Sanada said. “To be rewarded by angels.”

“Uh-huh.” Noise made a rude sound. “Those angelic bastards definitely have the better propaganda machine.”

“Like that’s news,” Kurai retorted. “But then, they’ve been playing a game rigged in their favor.”

“Who could forget?” Noise released her grip on Sanada, who had followed this exchange with a faintly confused expression. “Damned souls. Punishments. Rewards. Hah! Do humans ever get anything right?”

“Not often,” Kurai said, mildly. “I do hope you don’t have your heart set on that particular vision of Heaven and Hell, Sanada-kun. If you do, I’m afraid you’re going to be terribly disappointed when you die.”

“I will?”

“Oh yeah, especially if you’re planning on going to Heaven,” Noise muttered. “They’d soon kill you as look at you up there.”

Sanada blinked. “But... angels are good?” he ventured.

Kurai really couldn’t help the laughter, especially when he drew himself up, looking offended. “There’s no more saying that all angels are good and all demons are evil than there is saying all humans are good or all humans are evil,” she said, finally. “It’s a mix, just like it is with humans. Sure, the Host likes to pretend they have the moral high ground, but when it comes right down to it, all of us, angels and demons alike, tend to be bastards, really. Demons are just more straightforward about it.”

Sanada frowned. “He sent you here, didn’t he?”

“He?” Kurai echoed. Sanada jerked his head in the direction of the tennis courts. “Oh, you mean Hatter-san. He asked me to come, yes.”

“Then how can I believe a single word you’ve said?” he demanded. “Even if I were inclined to take the word of a demon?”

“I suppose you don’t have to believe us,” Kurai said, calmly enough. “It’s your decision, after all. Hatter-san is notoriously tricky.” Noise snorted, and muttered something under her breath. “But it seems to me that Hatter-san is going to extraordinary lengths to be reassuring.”

“Seiichi doesn’t need reassuring,” Sanada muttered. “He thinks everything is fine.”

“Not him, silly.” Kurai smacked him upside the head, but gently. “You. Hatter called us here on your account. She’d like to add you to her collection, but she’s abiding by Yukimura-san’s wishes, so she’s doing the next best thing and trying to make you see that it’s not as bad for him as you think. You don’t need to worry so much.”

“You’re a fascinating group of souls,” Noise observed, while Sanada looked flabbergasted. “Anyone in Hell—or in Heaven, to be fair—with an ounce of taste would be overjoyed to have you.”

“Have us?” Sanada managed.

“It’s fairly standard exchange—services rendered after death for favors received during life.” Kurai waved a hand. “Of course, I don’t know what terms Yukimura-san and Hatter-san have agreed to, but I doubt it’s anything exotic.”

“I still don’t know that I can trust a word you’re saying,” Sanada said, after a moment.

“Stubborn,” Noise muttered.

“I expect we should consider it part of his charm,” Kurai said. She unhooked her arm from his and stepped away. “In any case, I don’t believe we can say or do anything else to change his mind.”

“That’s probably true,” Noise agreed.

“Look, Sanada-kun. You trust Yukimura-san, right?” Kurai said. He nodded. “Am I right in saying that he has impeccable judgment?” Sanada nodded again. “Then trust that he knows what he’s doing. You’ll both be happier that way.”

Sanada considered this. “A question,” he said, finally.

“Yes?” Kurai waited.

“When you die, if you don’t go to heaven or hell, what happens?”

“Reincarnation, usually,” Noise said, promptly.

“In Yukimura-san’s case, he’ll probably serve in Lucifer-sama’s court, as retainer to Hatter-san,” Kurai added.

Sanada’s frown at this was less angry than thoughtful. “I see,” he murmured.

Kurai smiled. “I think we’re done here, Noise,” she said. “It was interesting talking to you, Sanada-kun. I do hope we meet again.”

He snorted. “I’m not sure I can honestly say the same yet, but—I do thank you.”

Kurai chuckled. “To be fair, that’s more than I really expected. Take care, Sanada-kun. See you around.” She gave him a little wave, and walked away.

Noise caught up with her after just a moment. “Think it worked?”

“Dunno, but we gave him plenty to think over,” Kurai said, with a little shrug. “Hatter-san can’t ask for more.”

“You never know,” Noise said, shivering. “So, home?”

“Well, we could go home,” Kurai conceded, “but since we’re in Assiah anyway, it couldn’t hurt to pop over and visit Setsuna, right?”

“And the real reason you agreed to this comes out,” Noise said.

“I prefer to think of it as being efficient,” Kurai said airily. “Come on, let’s see if we can find the Messiah.”

As they headed off, Sanada turned around and headed back toward the tennis courts, where Yukimura was waiting.

Belonging

Branch

SanaYuki make up smut. Porn with Characterization, I-4

"All right, that should do it for the Nationals lineups."

Seiichi stood and rubbed a hand over his eyes, and felt Genichirou's hands close on his shoulders as he swayed a bit.

"Seiichi?" He could hear the incipient panic in Genichirou's voice, legacy of the winter, and laid a soothing hand on his chest.

"I'm fine. Just tired, that's all. Truly." He smiled up at Genichirou, though he knew the stress he'd been under lately probably made it less convincing than usual. Genichirou's chest moved under his palm in a faint sigh.

"Seiichi..." Seiichi blinked; even when they were alone, Genichirou rarely let his voice soften so much. Genichirou's arms closed around him, almost lifting him against Genichirou's body. Seiichi released a tiny breath of his own and let himself relax into that support.

"I'm sorry," Genichirou murmured.

"For what?" Seiichi asked, a bit muffled, leaning his head down to Genichirou's shoulder.

"Everything." The hint of a laugh in Genichirou's voice made Seiichi chuckle. And then he sighed again.

"Genichirou," he whispered, leaning more of his weight against his lover. He didn't often ask, but tonight he was very worn out and didn't want to think or plan or even speak. Just feel.

Genichirou's arms tightened. As Seiichi looked up, Genichirou's mouth found his in a gentle kiss at odds with the power of that embrace. Or perhaps not. Seiichi smiled and let his eyes fall closed. Genichirou understood what he wanted. Perhaps Seiichi should send that little silver haired demon a thank-you note.

Genichirou moved back long enough to strip off his own clothes before he started on Seiichi's. The shirt was lifted off his shoulders, and Genichirou knelt to slide down Seiichi's pants and tug off his socks. Seiichi laughed, softly, and Genichirou looked up at him with a faint smile. Large, warm hands closed on Seiichi's hips, and Seiichi gave himself to them, let Genichirou take his weight and guide him down until they were pressed against each other and Genichirou's arms were around him again.

For a while Genichirou only ran his hands over Seiichi's skin; down his thighs, spread over Genichirou's; up his back and across his shoulders; over his ribs and the bones of his hips; threading through his hair. Soothing and strong, and Seiichi sighed into their kisses, comforted.

The sound he made when Genichirou's fingers dipped between his cheeks and stroked questioningly against his entrance was lower and more hungry. Seiichi leaned back, trusting Genichirou's hands to keep him from falling, driving their hips together harder, and a deep, rough sound in Genichirou's chest answered him. Genichirou's mouth, though, was still soft as it moved over Seiichi's chest, and, as Genichirou lowered him to the futon, his stomach, slow licks followed by open mouthed kisses. Seiichi stretched against the quilt, and gasped as his lover's mouth covered Belial's mark. Protest and acceptance at the same time; very much Genichirou's way, with him.

"Genichirou..." When the dark eyes looked up Seiichi held out his arms and Genichirou moved up to lie over Seiichi. Seiichi made a pleased sound at that weight on him. There was a solidity to Genichirou that made it deeply satisfying to be covered by him like this, when Seiichi wanted another's strength in addition to his own.

"Seiichi," Genichirou spoke, quietly, against his hair, "will you let me?"

"Oh, yes," Seiichi answered, laughing just a little. "Please."

From the convulsive way Genichirou's arms tightened around him, Seiichi thought Genichirou might need this as much as he did.

Genichirou nudged him until Seiichi was lying on his side and Genichirou could press up against his back, and he wriggled back a little more snugly against that solid body. Genichirou nipped lightly at the curve of Seiichi's neck as his hand slid down the back of Seiichi's thigh and urged his knee up, spreading him out. Seiichi released a harsh breath when Genichirou's fingers slid into him. Those fingers felt very good, working his body open, but it wasn't until Genichirou's hard thigh slid up against the back of his and he felt Genichirou filling him, stretching him open, that Seiichi finally moaned, breathless, clenching a hand in the worn cotton under his cheek.

This was what he wanted tonight, to have Genichirou inside him and around him, holding him and driving in and out of him, slow and close and hard. To have that weight and warmth against him. To let himself arch and buck, in Genichirou's arms, with complete abandon.

Genichirou's hand between his legs shocked Seiichi out of the slowness, and he cried out, hearing the sudden strain in his own voice. He jerked into Genichirou's tight grip, heard a soft groan against his ear, and fire ran over him, rippled out from the rasp of calluses against his skin, catching at the heavy heat of Genichirou moving inside him. The pulse of it spiked with a deep thrust, and Seiichi lost himself in brightness. The sharp edge of sensation twisted through him, harsh and then gentler, softer, until it subsided and he lay, limp. Genichirou was moving faster, now. Seiichi breathed deeply as Genichirou muffled a moan against his shoulder, and finally stilled. It took a few moments before Seiichi could gather himself to turn over and wind his arms around Genichirou. They lay, twined together.

"Forgive me," Genichirou said, almost too quietly to hear. "It was only that... I don't like the thought of what might happen to you."

Seiichi chuckled. "And you also don't like sharing," he added, lifting his head to press a kiss to Genichirou's forehead, and another to his lips, checking an indignant protest. "With outsiders," he added.

"Hmph."

"You know that I'm yours, Genichirou," Seiichi pointed out, lying back down. "It's only fair; you gave yourself to me. You know that's how I do things."

An even less articulate grumble met this statement, and Seiichi smiled as he settled down to let himself drift to sleep as well.

Just before he did, the door clicked, and he turned over, yawning, to see Renji smiling at them. Seiichi held up his arms, and Renji leaned down to gather him close, careful not to jar the sleeping Genichirou.

"Better?" Renji whispered.

"Yes." Seiichi buried his face against Renji's neck and breathed in. "Thank you." Then he tugged, demandingly, on Renji's shirt, and Renji smiled as he undressed and lay down to enclose Seiichi in a cradle of warm bodies.

Seiichi relaxed between them, very pleased.

In a distant room Belial looked up at the ceiling and wondered if se should look into acquiring Sanada-kun after all. Hir body still throbbed with the echo of his touch. At last se sighed, deciding that, no, he would probably die of heart failure at the mere suggestion.

Se did make a note, as se rolled over, not to mention to Seiichi this particular side effect of the mark.

End

Nine Tenths

Lys ap Adin

Possible answers about Kirihara's proclivities. Humor, I-1

Niou’s eyes narrowed. “So,” he drawled, “it’s one of yours that makes him do that thing with the red eyes and the violence?”

“One never said that,” Belial demurred. “One said that it was not an unreasonable hypothesis.”

“So it could be one of yours.”

Belial sniffed. “One of mine would demonstrate more subtlety,” se said, leaving no doubt that hir retainers would possess the utmost in delicacy, or else.

“So it could be some other—individual—who’s responsible for his, ah, episodes?” Yagyuu suggested.

Belial shrugged. “One does not care to speculate, but yes, it is possible.”

Kirihara broke into the discussion. “You do realize I’m standing right here, don’t you?”

“You say that like it’s supposed to bother us, brat.” Niou cocked his head. “If an opposing team shows up to a match with a priest, will that be a problem?”

Belial threw hir head back and laughed.

Engarde

Chronolith

Kurai is depressed and Hatter is curious. Drama with Angst, I-3

Kurai was used to walking her realm with Noise's steady presence at her back like a tether that kept her from flying apart from all the different directions in which her land, her people, her responsibilities pulled her. But today she walked the length and breadth of it alone. She did it to reminder herself that she, and her land, and her people, were not part of Assiah though they were so achingly close to it. Close enough that it rubbed against the softest skin until it broke and bled. She did it to remember that they were not angels, or demons—no matter how individual members might theorize or debate; that they were their own, a people apart. The forgotten and despised children of God.

It was the Witch's shattered realm that eventually drew her—with all its psychic pain and loneliness like a blackened mirror for her own.

She stood where she had stood that first time, the first time she had fallen through its silver borders. The first time she had seen Anthy as she really was, or was meant to be. Kurai knew the Great Angels, lords of Hell, Lucifer and the Messiah, and knew a fair number of their psychic reflections, but she had not—at least not yet—meet anything like Witch. Or like Utena.

Kurai placed her hands against the smooth dome of silver and leaned her forehead against it, careful to avoid thinking about going through the silvered glass-like stuff.

And it wasn't fair that she would fall in love, with one or both of them, when she couldn't have one or both of them. Just like last time—just like Setsuna.

It just wasn't fair. She wanted to know when she would find someone who loved her the way Setsuna loved Sara or Utena loved Anthy. Because she was tired of being in love, when no one loved her back.

"One thinks that one's lord's Royal Wife is somewhat ... distressed," Mad Hatter commented, hir voice sliding through the darkness like whiskey through rich coffee.

Kurai looked up to where se sat, lounged insolently really, on a twisted tree branch that she was fairly positive had not existed there moments before. "Hatter-san," she sighed resignedly. "What do you want?"

"Is it not enough that perhaps one wished to look upon Her Majesty's beauty and spend pleasant moments in her company?" Hatter asked sweetly. Cocking hir head to one side she managed to look both coquettish, innocent, and sly.

Kurai made a face. "I'm not beautiful."

"Oh, there you are very wrong." Hatter appeared before her. Clasping her chin with two fingers, se stared into Kurai's black and silver-blue eyes. "Her Majesty is quite lovely, and will only grow to be more beautiful with time."

"Stop it!" Kurai smacked hir fingers away. "Stop it..."

Hatter might have been angered and offended had it not been for the naked pain and distress on Kurai's face. So se dropped hir hand without further comment as se waited for the inevitable explination. Kurai wrapped thin arms about herself and looked away.

"You don't love me, or think me lovely, Hatter-san. You never have," she said without looking at her shadowed companion. Hatter's face was unreadable. "It was only ever a pretty lie to get the promise that you got." Kurai turned to lock eyes with Hatter, and despite the tears her face was hard. "You can stop lying to me now."

"This one does not always lie, Kurai. This one is honest and tells the truth when it needs to be said—and you are lovely..." Hatter stopped as Kurai shook her head violently, denying all se said. Se was not, perhaps, entirely sure what se would have said to Kurai, to make her believe. But it did not matter. Still shaking her head, and not looking at the demon, Kurai turned and plunged into the swirling silver mists.

Hatter placed one hand upon the border of the other realm thoughtfully. It hardened underneath hir fingers, and se got the very clear sense of no. Se could probably force hir way in, but it was not hir way to do so. Se cocked hir head to one side.

"What are you then, and what is our little Queen to you?" Se asked.

For a moment se saw the image of a girl with wild purple hair and emerald, inhuman eyes in a dirty and torn smock. Hir eyebrow arched. The girl mouthed only one word to hir.

Mine

~~~

It had not been one of her wiser ideas, Kurai determined in retrospect, plunging into the silvered mists that were steadily encroaching into her territory. But she had to get away from the Mad Hatter and all the pretty lies that simply were not true, no matter how much she wanted them to be. Ever since Setsuna had gone back to Assiah the weight of those lies—the ones she had told herself, the ones other people like Akane had told her—pressed against her until parts of her cracked from the strain.

Witch's realm was one of psychic eminenations. A maelstrom of seething emotions that shivered and changed, nearly physically tangible things that could rip and tear. It was an unsettling place to be even when Kurai was able to control herself, but when she was feeling shattered and beyond all protection it was unbareable. Emotions like shining lances, like glistening swords, speared her. Cut her open and left her to bleed.

She was rocking on the barren ground, hands pressed so hard against the sides of her head that her ears rang, trying to block out all the endless screaming that was as much her own as it was the the centuries of bottled emotions left in this place to howl. Kurai had the disconcerting feeling of falling and the sound of rushing wings. Then gentle fingers that were cold to the touch pried her hands from her head. Witch knelt next to her, emerald eyes bemused.

"You should have run from the swords."

Kurai resisted the urge to check herself for wounds. Somehow she knew that nothing here could hurt her body unless she believed it could. Rather than being reassured by the thought, she was terrified. She gripped Witch's slender arms. "Where are we?"

Witch shook her head. Pulling away from Kurai's grasp she walked a little ways away from the kneeling Dragon Queen and stared out at the endless horizons. "We are in the place inside my head that is larger than the place outside of it."

It was the same answer that she had been given before, but now it made more sense—and less. Kurai stood up slowly, as if pushing through heavy water. As she stood the decision she had start to make when she first stared into Anthy's strangely hopeful eyes clarified and solidified. "Come away from here."

Witch turned back to her. They were so close that whispers sounds like ringing bells, too loud, too likely to be heard. "Would you lead me from here?"

The air shivered around them, hinting at the return of the maelstrom. "We'll lead each other."

Witch's smile bloomed, blazing and fierce. It was the last thing that Kurai saw before the darkness claimed her and the rushing wind. When she awoke Noise was peering down at her with anxious concern. Past her worried retainer she spotted Mad Hatter who was staring not at her, but at the opalescent dome of Witch's domain. Kurai sat up, everything in her body screamed in protest, but her head felt strangely clear. As if she had been cleansed of the paralyzing depression. In its place was a hard determination.

She went to stand next to Mad Hatter, who glanced inquiring down at her. Without saying a word Kurai placed her hand against the silvered surface and thought: "Soon." It was enough.

Understanding

Branch

Lucifer visits Rikkai. Drama, I-3

Renji, along with the rest of the team, was starting to get used to Mad Hatter's elusive, mocking presence among them. He supposed he should have known that would be the signal for a fresh turn into strangeness.

Today's strangeness started innocently enough with a voice none of them had heard before. "So this is where you've been, lately." A tall figure stepped out from under the shadow of the trees by the courts.

Hatter's face lit up even as she turned. "Indeed, my lord," she answered, stepping toward the man. The entire team stared as she sank to her knees at his feet.

"And are you enjoying yourself?" he asked one brow tilting up as he reached a hand down to pull Hatter back up.

"Immensely," she purred.

The man's eyes traveled over them all, ending at last with Seiichi. Renji tensed, suspecting who this must be, but Seiichi met the gaze coolly and only nodded.

"Lucifer, I presume," he said, quietly.

A crooked smile turned up the man's mouth, and he looked back down at Mad Hatter. "How calm. Have you finally found one you couldn't break, butterfly?"

"One hasn't been trying to break him," Hatter protested, looking up through her lashes. Genichirou, standing beside Renji, twitched, and Renji leaned against his shoulder for unobtrusive support and restraint.

"No, only my teammates," Seiichi put in, sharp and not particularly amused. "I hadn't realized it was an actual hobby."

"One seeks the truth and shows the truth," Hatter answered, voice suddenly harsh. Her head dipped almost to Lucifer's chest. "Few see it, even then."

This time, Renji noted, it was Niou's turn to pull Yagyuu back when he stepped toward Hatter.

"Belial," Seiichi and Lucifer murmured at the same time, in the same tone of mild exasperation.

Their eyes locked over Hatter's head for a long moment before Seiichi sighed. "So," was all he said, though.

Hatter cast a narrow look over her shoulder at Seiichi, but let the exchange go with a faint shrug. "Are you down here to visit her?" she asked Lucifer.

His eyes hooded. "Alexiel will be mine when she returns. For now, Setsuna and Sara belong to each other." His mouth tilted again. "Actually I was going to see what Michael is doing."

Mad Hatter threw back her head and laughed, eyes sparkling again. "Oh, can one watch?" she begged, hands clasped under her chin.

Personally, Renji would have been a bit alarmed by her grin, but Lucifer merely brushed his fingers through her wild hair. "If you like."

It was the first time they had seen Hatter's wings. The corner of Renji's mind that catalogued things observed that they were feathered, albeit black, not the bat-style wings that seemed traditional for demons in artwork. The rest of him was gaping at the sky along with his teammates.

Except for Seiichi. Who stood with a hand on his hip, the other raised to press between his eyes. "Hatter-san, you little idiot," their captain muttered.

Renji's brows rose. That was very much the tone Seiichi used about Akaya sometimes.

Interesting.

End

Ministers of Grace

Branch

Lucifer passes through Seigaku and Hatter spots Fuji. Humor, I-2

When the Lord of Hell and what had to be his strongest supporter appeared at the courts, Kunimitsu took a prompt and firm hold of Fuji's arm. Keeping one eye on his visitors, he escorted the startled Fuji over to Ooishi.

"Ooishi. Don't let Fuji near those two," he directed. With a glare to keep Echizen right where he was, as well, Kunimitsu approached the intruders.

Lucifer arched a brow. "Well. It's been a while since I met one of your bloodline. Though I do recall it was one of you who last lived long enough to notice Alexiel and I coming back around. Odd man; very strange sense of humor. Interesting theory of magic, though."

"What do you want, here?" Kunimitsu asked. It didn't do to get distracted from the point when talking to demons.

"Actually, I was looking for Michael." Lucifer eyed Kunimitsu. "I don't notice his influence. And Michael is generally about as noticeable as they come."

"He was here; I declined his offer. I suggested he visit Fudoumine."

Lucifer laughed low in his chest. "And your courts are still unsinged. Maybe he really is growing up. We'll be going, then."

"So soon?" Mad Hatter murmured.

Kunimitsu took a step to the side, putting himself squarely between Mad Hatter and Fuji. Hatter smiled at him in a disturbingly familiar way, and he narrowed his eyes forbiddingly. No demon was getting its claws into Fuji's soul.

Fuji was more than enough trouble without that.

"Are you sure you didn't take on the charge of Greed, as well as Pride?" Lucifer asked, sounding amused.

Kunimitsu relaxed as they left, relieved. At least until Fuji spoke from behind his shoulder.

"Tezuka?" He didn't have to turn around to know there was a glint in Fuji's eyes. "What was that about?"

He stifled a sigh. Dealing with demons was so much easier.

End

Declarations of War

Lys ap Adin

Lucifer finally meets Michael at Fudoumine. Drama, I-3

Mere humans shouldn’t be so damned perceptive, Michael had decided, even if they did have some funny bloodlines going for them. It was distressing how well he fit in with the guys of Fudoumine’s tennis team, who didn’t take shit from anyone, and the way Ann had taken to mothering him—well, Raphael would never let him hear the end of it, so Michael had decided that there was no way he was letting word of this get around back home.

He still didn’t see much appeal in the tennis thing itself, though.

It was a real pity that his brother had to have gone and shown up at the Fudoumine courts, though, and spoiled an otherwise pleasant afternoon of hanging out with the guys.

“What do you want?” Michael demanded, glaring. If there had been any justice in the universe, Lucifer would have combusted on the spot, and Belial would’ve gone up right along with him.

“Can’t a man want to visit his own brother?” Lucifer inquired, and if a person squinted, and maybe was half-blind, he might have said Lucifer was smiling pleasantly. “It’s been a while.”

“Not long enough,” Michael growled. He crossed his arms. “What do you really want?”

But they were interrupted before Lucifer had a chance to answer. The guys had stopped practice to look, and Tachibana was headed in their direction—and fuck, Ann was with him. “Michael-kun, who are your guests?” she caroled, looking Lucifer and Belial over.

Lucifer, in turn, was examining Tachibana. “This must be the one,” he remarked to Belial, who nodded, looking speculative.

Tachibana took a position at Michael’s shoulder. “Won’t you introduce us, Michael-kun?” he asked, voice deep and even and very, very territorial.

Belial grinned, and Michael glared at hir. “This,” he said, reluctantly, “is Lucifer, the Lord of Hell.” Well, there was no real use in not acknowledging it. “My brother.”

“You never said you had a brother,” Ann said, with a grin.

“He tries to avoid the topic,” Belial said, smoothly. “You may call one Mad Hatter.” Se looked at Tachibana. “You must be Tachibana-kun.”

“I suppose I must be.” At least Tachibana had the good sense to sound wary. “You have the advantage of me.”

“Seiichi has told me a great deal about you,” Belial purred. “It’s such a pity Mika-chan got to you first.”

Ann shot Michael a look, and mouthed “Mika-chan?” at him. Michael ground his teeth. His brother was going to pay for this, if only he could figure out how.

Then inspiration struck. “Actually,” Michael drawled, trying to match Lucifer’s bored tones, “if you wanna get right down to it, I didn’t get to them first.” When he was sure he had Lucifer’s attention, he grinned. “Setsuna did.”

The effect was every bit as gratifying as Michael could have hoped, and he etched the sight of Lucifer’s face into his memory to treasure. Of course, it did mean that Belial stepped closer to hir master and the atmosphere turned about ten degrees more dangerous, but then, Michael was a dangerous sort of guy himself. “Setsuna,” Lucifer said, finally.

“Mmmmhm,” Michael agreed, savoring the moment. “Really, I’m here as a favor to him.”

Then Tachibana’s hand dropped on his shoulder, the way he did sometimes when Kamio started getting excitable. “I take it you know Setsuna too,” Tachibana said, and immediately the atmosphere lightened somewhat.

Lucifer’s lips quirked. “I have found that Setsuna has a way of getting around.”

“No kidding,” Ann agreed, and Michael blinked, wondering when she had gotten herself part of the way between Belial and himself. “That guy knows everybody.”

Belial laughed. “That is possibly truer than you know.” Se surveyed the courts, where the rest of the guys had given up the pretense of practicing, and were ambling over. “One can see how he would be happy here.”

“Yes,” Lucifer agreed, and he had gone back to smooth and untouchable. Well, it had been fun while it had lasted, anyway. “Things seem to be well in hand here.”

“We’re so glad you approve,” Ann said, and while she wasn’t being ungracious about it, she definitely didn’t sound as friendly as she had. She was pretty cool, for a girl, Michael decided.

“One will be looking forward to seeing Fudoumine at Nationals,” Belial murmured, eyes sharp.

Michael stuck his chin out. “Don’t be in too much of a hurry,” he warned. “We’re gonna kick your asses.”

“One looks forward to seeing you try,” Belial said, amiably. “But one trusts you won’t destroy the stadium in a fit of rage when you lose.”

Michael hissed, but Tachibana squeezed his shoulder in warning, and Michael checked his temper somewhat. “Fudoumine looks forward to meeting Rikkai Dai at Nationals,” he said, calmly, and the guys had ranged themselves behind them in support. “Until then, however, we have a great deal of work to do.”

Belial looked to be impressed in spite of hirself, and Lucifer’s laugh rumbled low in his throat. “Our presence is keeping you from that work,” he said. “We’ll be going.”

“And good riddance,” Michael growled.

“And goodbye to you, too, Michael,” Lucifer said, and he and Belial vanished.

Ann let out a long breath. “That,” she said, “was interesting.”

Michael shrugged off Tachibana’s hand. “I fucking hate him,” he complained, to no one in particular.

“Those are Rikkai’s pet demons, huh?” Kamio asked, and when Michael looked over his shoulder at the guys, most of them were wearing thoughtful expressions. “What did they want with us?”

Michael shrugged. “To piss me off,” he said, trying for nonchalant and not quite making it. “Same as always. Sorry he interrupted your practice.”

“Things are certainly more interesting with you around,” Shinji observed, and nudged Kamio. “Come play a set with me.”

Kamio looked to Tachibana, who nodded, and followed Shinji to the courts. After a moment, the doubles pairs followed them, and began their own practice set. Tachibana watched them go and smiled. He glanced at Michael. “We’re strong,” he said. “We’ll definitely win.”

Michael grinned back. “Of course we will.”

Profession

Branch

Belial chats with Sakaki, who turns out to be an old 'friend'. Drama with Humor, I-3

Sakaki Tarou paused on his way across the grounds of Rikkai Dai to visit his contemporaries on staff, and watched the junior high tennis team practicing. This team was always worth watching, but this time something specific caught his attention. Something about them had changed, since the last time he'd observed these players. It was most notable in Yukimura-kun, and Tarou sighed faintly as he contemplated the inherent disorder of what he was seeing.

"Taken," a light voice stated next to his ear.

"Belial," Tarou greeted his ex-associate. He didn't move at all as a very sharp edge scraped against his throat.

"There are, at this time, exactly two people permitted to call one by one's old name, and neither of them is you. You may call one Mad Hatter." The sharp edge vanished, and Tarou turned his head far enough to see Belial... Hatter, lounging against the fence, from the corner of his eye. "As one was saying, Yukimura Seiichi is taken. Signed and sealed, though a significant delay in delivery was part of the deal. And, as the rest of them belong to him, you can just keep your hands to yourself where they're concerned, too."

Tarou knew better than to cross a Demon Lord without better backup, and Hatter was clearly serious despite the teasing tone. His silence gave his answer.

"Delightful." Hatter pushed off the fence. "After all, it wouldn't do to have your boys notice anything odd about their dear mentor's associates and pastimes, would it?"

Tarou didn't even bother to glare at the implied threat of revelation. "They don't ask," he said, levelly, tucking his hands into his pockets. "I'm simply their tennis coach. And music teacher."

Tarou waited, with scant patience, for Hatter to stop snickering and go back to her humans.

End

Double Entendre

Chronolith

Kurai has a plan. Drama, I-3

Kurai was surprisingly uninterested and unconcerned by the announcement that Heaven and Hell had started competing for souls again. The tennis thing was a little odd, but otherwise it was business as usual. She did rather hope that it didn't lead to another war. She'd be obligated to get involved—on whose side would be a little convoluted, considering—and she was busy right now.

"Here they are," Noise said as she dropped several large volumes onto Kurai's desk. "All the records of the Triumvirate of the Dragons."

Kurai made a purring sound in the back of her throat that could only be described as both appreciative and pleased. Noise watched suspiciously as Kurai dived into the materials with an expression that meant scheming was definitely on her master's mind. And Kurai never schemed. Ever. Not even when that suspicious, smug demon was slinking around Gehenna. Noise did not like it when life got weird. Especially when it was her master who was getting weird.

"No one has done the triumvirate ceremony since before the first wars,"Noise said. Kurai made small sound of agreement. "You don't have to do this," Noise said, rather plaintively. "Besides, you have to be a triumvirate and you're just you."

Kurai looked up, eyes very dark—and for a moment Noise thought she saw eternity flicker queerly within them—and stared at her retainer in away that made Noise feel as if Kurai were lining up all Noise's loyalties and all her little betrayals and weighing them. It was uncomfortable feeling. And not a thing she was used to. Not from her master.

"I am not yet Triumvirate, but I will be."

Noise did not like that statement. She liked the narrow, determined look even less.

And in the darkness of the recessed window that looked over Gehenna's forever twilight realm, Belial frowned in slightly troubled thought.

And in a plain where eternity echoed a young not-yet-woman looked up into the fractured sky and began to smile.

Great Minds

Branch

A Belial and Fuji moment. Humor, I-2

"Ah, there you are."

Shuusuke looked up to see the more flamboyant of Seigaku's recent visitors perched on a tree branch that overhung his way home. Mad Hatter, Tezuka had said this one was called. The ruffled and striped figure leaped lightly down from the tree.

"One was hoping to speak with you."

Shuusuke took a precautionary step backwards. "Is there any particular reason I should ignore a friend's warning in order to talk with you?"

"None at all," Hatter answered cheerfully. "In fact, one was rather hoping to wind your captain up a bit, by doing this."

"You have some reason to dislike Tezuka?" Shuusuke asked, cooler now.

Hatter widened his eyes. "Not particularly. One simply likes to watch people squirm."

Shuusuke smiled for real. "Ah. Well then. It's a lovely summer this year, isn't it?"

It wasn't that he discounted Tezuka's cautions, but a kindred soul was a rare find.

End

Games Without Frontiers

Branch

Yukimura decides how to deal with Belial. Drama, I-3

Seiichi's expression toward the end of practice had indicated that he wished to speak with Belial, so Belial had obligingly waited for him in the small garden behind his house. It didn't take long for Seiichi to find hir there.

"Belial," Seiichi said, a bit wearily, "I'd appreciated it if you could stop trying to provoke everyone. Including me."

Belial chuckled low in hir throat. Se had rather suspected that hir human had caught on to the reason Belial toyed with his team. "But Seiichi-san, you have such strength in you." Se draped hirself against him and whispered in his ear, "One likes to feel it." Which was only the truth. When Seiichi was angry his soul had an edge on it that cut deliciously.

Seiichi was still for a moment before his hand lifted and turned Belial's face toward his. Belial breathed in when se saw his eyes—piercing as when he was angry, but softer. "Stop trying to use me to hurt yourself," he told hir. "I'm not pleased with the idea, however much security it gives you to be hurt when you expect it."

Belial shivered, and absently damned hir own weakness for those who saw clearly and spoke the truth. It was what interested hir in Seiichi in the first place, of course, but se hadn't honestly expected a mortal, however impressive, to see this clearly.

Seiichi was still looking at hir, gaze turned thoughtful. An edge of mischief crept into it. "I've been thinking that there are other ways to get what you want," he murmured. "And turnabout is only fair, yes?" He leaned forward. And kissed Belial, slow and strong. And Belial had to admit, hir latest acquisition had a point; his mouth was gentle, but the weight of his soul against hirs was powerful and demanding, and clear as a lake of glass.

Belial broke off and leaned back in Seiichi's arms, laughing. Seiichi merely took the chance to taste the skin of hir throat.

"You know," Belial observed, voice a little husky, "this is one of the things mortals and celestials really aren't supposed to do."

"I've already sold my soul to a demon," Seiichi noted, dryly, against Belial's collar bone. "Breaking another rule is supposed to concern me, why?"

"One thinks," Belial told the sky, dreamily, "one may just be in love."

Seiichi lifted his head and looked at hir, eyes dark and fathomless in the dusk. "Don't say that to me too easily, Belial." His voice held a hint of warning.

A breath of uneasiness blew through Belial, but se dismissed it. Seiichi had a powerful and fascinating soul, but surely no human could bind hir. "Will lust do?" se inquired lightly.

Seiichi's lips curved, though his gaze was level and serious. "For now."

Surely.

End

Arrangements

Lady Crysiana

Ryouma gets off on the wrong foot with Kurai. Humor, I-1

Ryoma caught the demon girl looking around after Fudoumine practice. He estimated that he’d end up running about forty laps for this, but decided that it was probably worth it. “Hey, you,” he called.

The girl blinked and looked over at him. “Who are you?”

Ryoma shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered over to her. “Echizen Ryoma. I was wondering who I could talk to about the management in heaven and hell.”

The girl drew herself up. “I’m Queen Kurai,” she said. “I can help you, if you have any questions.” Ryoma noted that she reminded him of that loud girl who seemed to head up his fanclub, in an odd way.

“Nn,” said Ryoma. “I wanted to talk to Lucifer.”

Kurai glowered at Ryoma for a long moment, her hands twitching into fists. “Sure. I’ll tell him for you.”

Such a Kicking

Chronolith

Constantine gets an invitation from the Witch. Drama, I-3

He was used to days like these. Days when London said "keep your head down, boy, or I'll give you such a kicking." Days when the sky spit rain, the lorries never fucking stopped, and some feathered rat decided to shit on your favorite (only) trenchcoat. Days like these a man's only option was to get thoroughly pissed and stay that way until London's mood changed for something less homicidal.

At least that was John Constantine's plan until Mad Hettie grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into her alley. On better days he knew to avoid Old Compton Street for just these reasons, but today was not one of his days.

"She's been trying to reach you Herself, she has," Mad Hettie said in lieu of a greeting. John had a bad feeling that he knew the 'Herself" Hettie was refering to. "She's been tryn' but you've been shuttin' her out the way you shut out everything so I'm here to tell you and you're here to listen, Johnny-lad."

When Mad Hettie said 'listen,' particularly in that tone, Constantine felt a chill go straight through him. Things never went well for him when Mad Hettie came around to chat. It was never the friendly chats, only the 'some supernatural 's come around callin for you' sorts of chats.

"Hettie..." he tried. Sometimes the Constantine charm worked on the old bat. She gave him a beady-eyed glare. This was not one of those times.

"No. You listen here, you scallwag, you scamp, I'm 267 years old and I know these things. She got a need for you, so I'm to tell you and you're to listen." Hettie had a vise grip on his arm, so shaking her off and dashing off down the lane was out.

The thing was, Mad Hettie really was 267 years old. She was also a prophet, a witch of little talent, and completely buggering nuts.

"Who is trying to talk to me, Hettie?" He tried with what little patience God saw fit to grace him with.

Hettie fixed him with a look that was surprisingly reminiscent of his nan's. "You know who. John Constantine. Witch. She's been trying to reach you, but you've got yourself locked up tight, haven't you?"

Ah sweet buggered Jesus, that was the answer right there that he didn't want to hear. "I know a lot of witches, Hettie. Yourself for an example."

"Not any old witch, old sorceress," Hettie said, shaking his arm for good measure. "The Witch."

Shit.

"Well, she could bloody well pick up the phone and call, like anyone else, couldn't she?" He said. When in doubt, sheer bastardness tended to see the day through.

Wind found it's way into the alley, knocking over rubbish bins and rattling about empty bottles. John hunched his shoulders instinctively. At the mouth of the alley stood a girl with wild hair and inhuman eyes. John hunched his shoulders more, if it was possible, and started a stream of profanity that only threatened to get louder and more blasphemous as it went on. The girl locked eyes with him and the words went to ash in his mouth. She held out one slender hand—her dainty wrist encircled by a heavy gold band that he was pretty sure was no ordinary trinket—and beckoned him.

Then she was gone as if she had never been. Didn't even have the decency to vanish with a sound or a bit of theatric dust. Straight unnerving, that was.

"Well," Hettie said with immense satisfaction. "She's come Herself to give you an invitation."

"Great," said John "now if she'd only said where to."

Well I am going down to nowhere
Its not too far from here
The Rainâ€™ll be running rings
Around this tinpot cavalier
and there are skeletons and wastrels
As far as the eye can see
So if you want me baby
The Nowhere's where Iâ€™ll be

Yeah I am going down to nowhere
Oh its childsplay
We are turning up our collars
We are hijacking the day
And you can tell me about your journeys
You can tell me all your dreams
But nothing comes close
To the nowhere that Iâ€™ve seen

And all you people heading somewhere
Well you donâ€™t know what youâ€™re missing
Cos there's nothing like the freedom
Of a place where no one listens

So I am going down to nowhere
It is steeped in history
This is high-rise living for a
Joke Like me
We are such pretty little failures
On streets paved with fools gold
And no-one will think twice about
The nothing that theyâ€™ve sold

And all you people heading somewhere
Well you donâ€™t know what youâ€™re missing
Cos there's nothing like the freedom
Of a place where no one listens

So I am going down to nowhere
With the drop-outs and the bums
Iâ€™m a soldier of the vacuum
When the darkness comes
Iâ€™m a vaudeville comedian
In a theatre of bones
And Its a laugh a minute
When nowhere is your home

Secondhand Angels

Lys ap Adin

Ann discusses older brothers with Michael. Drama, I-3

He should have known Ann was going to come after him at some point the minute his bastard of an older brother had shown up. Well, he had known, to be honest, though he had been avoiding thinking about it.

She gave him a couple of days of space before cornering him while the guys practiced singles (except for Kamio and Ibu, who were double-teaming Tachibana). "So," she said, settling the box of water bottles down on the ground. "'Mika-chan'?" Her grin was sly as she stood.

"I fucking hate being called that," Michael growled.

"I could tell," she said, sounding just like her brother at his driest. "He really pisses you off, huh?"

"Been doing that since we were born," Michael admitted, after a moment. "The bastard." He waited for the inevitable round of questions—and waited, and waited. She didn't ask.

Instead, Ann chuckled. "I think that must be the natural function of older brothers," she said. "Kippei can piss me off just by breathing."

Michael blinked. "He can?"

Ann rolled her eyes at him. "Of course he can. We're siblings, y'know? If we didn't fight like cats and dogs, we wouldn't be normal."

"But—" Michael was having trouble processing the notion, and this was an excellent digression from the topic of his own brother. "You and Tachibana fight?"

"Oh, yeah. Not as much these days, since I think he's growing up on me or something, and it's like trying to pick a fight with the wall, but we manage." Ann waved a hand. "He spends way too much time in the bathroom, fussing with his hair, for one thing."

"He does?" Michael boggled.

"Uh-huh. He's really vain." Ann grinned. "You don't have to tell him I told you that."

"Of course not," Michael managed, still trying to process these revelations.

"And according to him, I spend way too much time on the phone." Ann tossed her head. "Which is silly, but what can you expect from a guy?" There was no way Michael was crazy enough to answer, but Ann fixed him with a piercing stare. "What do you and Lucifer-san fight about, Michael-kun?"

"Everything," he said, automatically.

Ann cast her eyes heavenwards. "Obviously," she said. "So tell me about it."

"We're twins," Michael said, and waited for the usual round of questions. Ann just nodded, so he went on. "And there was this prophecy about us, that one of us was gonna go bad someday. Everyone... thought it was gonna be me."

"That's a nice sort of thing to saddle someone with," Ann muttered. "Why you, and not him?"

Michael snorted. "Look, if you'd known him, you wouldn't have to ask. The bastard was born knowing how to do everything right. Me, I was the fuck-up. It made sense that I'd be the rebel." In any case, it made more sense than the way things had actually turned out.

Ann shook her head. "Mm-mm-mm."

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, still shaking her head back and forth.

"What?" he demanded.

"It's just... That's a really shitty thing to do to a kid," she said. She paused. "I'm not going to get hit by a lightning bolt for saying that, am I?"

Michael had to laugh. "No," he said. "No lightning."

"Then I'll blaspheme to my heart's content." She cocked her head to the side. "You don't really think you're a fuck-up, right?"

Ann had a gift for catching him off-guard, that's for damn sure. "Umm."

"Thought so," she murmured, fixing him with a look—the same look Tachibana tended to give the guys when the goofing off got out of hand. "Don't be such an idiot."

"Fuck, you're bossy," Michael grumbled.

Ann grinned at him. "Dealing with all them, you kinda have to be," she said, and looked out over the tennis courts. "I was kinda mad, at first."

"What?" Michael blinked at this latest change of direction.

"About getting a secondhand angel," she clarified, still studying the guys.

Michael bristled. "Secondhand—"

Ann held up a hand. "Hear me out," she said, and he subsided. "Look, when you came down here, you didn't come to us in order to counter Hatter. You went to Seigaku. They're clearly the favorites to win Nationals, right?"

"They'd already defeated Rikkai," Michael admitted, and left the corollary—that Rikkai had defeated Fudoumine—unspoken.

"Exactly my point," Ann said. "Everyone expects them to go on to win Nationals, I think—in spite of Rikkai's demon." She snorted. "And they had the nerve to turn down angelic assistance and pass it off to us? That's pretty damn insulting, if you ask me."

"Um." Michael was at a loss. "Sorry?"

Ann shrugged. "It's not your fault. It's Seigaku's captain who needs the lesson about not underestimating his opponents." Her grin was sudden, and fierce. "They don't expect us to win. No one expected us to make it out of district preliminaries, even. This being in Nationals thing? Just a fluke, as far as everyone else is concerned."

"That's a lot of hard work, just for a fluke," Michael said, jerking his head at the fierce battles taking place in the practice matches.

"Exactly." Ann's smile turned thin. "If we," she said, her gaze sweeping over the boys and Michael, too, "had any intention of following people's expectations of us... we'd never have gotten anywhere. You know why we don't have a coach, Michael-kun?"

He'd wondered, but hadn't pursued the topic. "No?"

"The boys ran him off," she said, tone dripping with satisfaction. "Used to be that only upperclassmen played tennis around here. Didn't matter how good you were; if you were a freshman, all you did was pick up balls."

"That sucks," Michael said.

"Doesn't it? The guys thought so, too," Ann said. "So they split off, and formed their own team, and when their sempai hassled them, the guys fought back. Now we have the tennis club, and their sempai play other sports."

"...So what happened to the coach?"

"Kippei beat him up," Ann said, matter-of-fact.

"He did?" Michael studied Tachibana. Yeah, okay. He could see that, actually. "Cool."

Ann wasn't done yet. "So when Seigaku gave us a hand-me-down angel, I was pissed off. For one thing, I'd thought Tezuka had more respect for us."

"I think he does respect you," Michael offered.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Ann's smile was rueful. "I cooled off eventually. But that's not the point. I was pissed off that he thought we couldn't hack it in Nationals without help."

"Like I've been that much help," Michael scoffed. "You guys were just fine without me."

"Maybe we were," Ann agreed. "But I think we're even better now." She stretched, lacing her hands behind her head. "No one expects anything of us. We're the school no one's ever heard of, the school that's an accident. It's just a matter of time before we drop out of the play-offs, right?"

Michael snorted. "Yeah, right."

"We're going to win." Ann's voice was quiet, and dead serious. "Screw what everybody else thinks of us. To hell with their expectations. Just because they think it doesn't make it true, right?"

"Absolutely," he agreed, grinning.

Ann leaned over and flicked his forehead. "So apply that to yourself, idiot," she said. "Same standards apply to you, as long as you're one of ours."

"One of yours?" Michael repeated, rubbing at the sore spot.

"Aren't you?" Ann's smile was sweet, and utterly devious.

"I thought you didn't want a secondhand angel," he said.

Ann grinned. "What would we do with anything else?" She looked at the courts, where the matches were starting to wrap up. "Looks like they're about done. Here, make yourself useful." She kicked at the box of water bottles, scooting it toward him, scooped up an armload of towels for herself, and trotted off to the guys.

Michael picked up the box and followed after.

... Damn, but he liked these kids.

Persuasion

Lady Crysiana

Ryouma makes some suggestions to Lucifer. Humor, I-2

Ryoma was sitting on the porch at home when a tall man strolled into the yard and stood in front of him. He decided that the man was probably someone that he could get along with…or, rather, someone that he wished played tennis. Ryoma tugged the brim of his hat and gave the man a grin that he saved for when he was having a great amount of fun, such as playing a hard game, or teasing Tezuka-buchou. “You came,” he commented.

“It’s unusual enough that someone would request an audience, particularly in such a way that causes Kurai to arrive in my court spitting like a cat,” said the man dryly.

Ryoma gave a half-shrug. “I thought you’d be better,” he said offhandedly. “I wanted to ask if Rikkai and Fudoumine are going to hell and heaven.”

Lucifer gave Ryoma what Ryoma hoped was a thoughtful look. “Belial is planning to sign that entire group of humans, but Michael doesn’t appear to have created a binding contract with his associates.”

Ryoma nodded. “And heaven and hell…they’re at war or something?”

The moment of silence that followed that question sounded more amused than anything. “Heaven and hell are currently in the process of reorganization. There’s fighting going on, but there is not a war. There are factions that hold various areas.”

“Well,” said Ryoma slowly, “If you’re recruiting mortals…even for the far future…there are ways to keep factions that don’t like each other from war. I mean, you know that humans compete and work things out that way. Since humans are used to it, getting humans would help, too.”

Lucifer smirked. “Are you suggesting that I challenge Michael to a tennis match?”

“He might say yes, after he tried to kill you,” Ryoma pointed out. “And the look on his face would be worth it, wouldn’t it?”

Ryoma grinned as Lucifer, the lord of Hell, began to laugh.

Headaches

Lady Crysiana

Tezuka finds out what Ryouma's been up to. Humor, I-2

Tezuka Kunimitsu decided that he was having a bad day when Echizen walked up to him with that look in his eye; the one that Echizen had picked up from Fuji. Tezuka had seriously begun wondering whether he should go to his mother’s cousin...or even his mother’s old relative, for that matter. However, his recollections of his mother’s old relative included the fact that Hiiragizawa-san had a sense of humor about on a level with Fuji’s, and more than enough power to make things complicated for the rest of the world. Tezuka therefore resigned himself to dealing with Echizen now and worrying later.

“I spoke with one of them,” said Echizen obliquely. “Not about a deal, though. I wanted to see what was going on in heaven and hell,” Echizen added virtuously.

Tezuka gave him a Look, and hoped that the information Echizen gave him wouldn’t be that unnerving, this time.

Echizen shrugged. “Well, I’ve heard that there’s political instability. And there’s fighting. And even with the people who have stable groups, there’s a lot of rivalry between them. And, well, there might be temporary alliances against common enemies, but it’s still really tense.”

Tezuka crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow at Echizen.

Echizen shifted and actually looked slightly guilty. “So I made a suggestion, since Rikkai is going to be there and maybe Fudoumine. And since they’re grabbing other human souls.” Echizen paused. “Because competition is good for getting out impulses that might turn to violence, and as long as a lot of souls would be hanging out in heaven anyway…”

“Echizen.” Tezuka pressed a hand to his face.

“He didn’t say ‘no,’” Echizen added, grinning.

Tezuka decided that he just might need to go talk to his relatives after all.

Green Eyed

Lys ap Adin

Raphael comes looking for Michael and gets a surprise. Drama with Humor, I-2

"Oh, for pity’s sake," Barbiel said, slamming the folder down on Raphael’s desk. "If you miss him that badly, go find him already!" She scowled. "I cannot stand another minute of this moping!"

Raphael blinked, and settled on a response. "I'm not moping," he said.

"Like hell you're not moping," Barbiel grumbled. She pointed at the door. "Out. And don't come back until you two have made up."

"You can't kick me out of my own office," Raphael protested.

Barbiel planted her hands on the desk and leaned over it, until they were nose-to-nose. "Watch me. Out."

Discretion seemed the better part of valor at this point, so he went, and had to admit he was glad for the excuse to go find out what had been keeping Michael out of his hair lately. Not that he had been moping over not having his offices blown up on a regular basis, of course. Where did the woman come up with her ideas? But it wasn't a bad idea to look in on the angel of fire and see what he was up to.

"Not here?" Well, judging from the progress the work crews were making on Michael's palace, it was obvious that Camael wasn't lying, and that Michael hadn't been around for some time. "Where is he?"

Camael seemed as puzzled by Michael's absence as Raphael was, but distinctly grateful for the chance to get some much-needed structural work taken care of. He shrugged. "We think he's been spending his time in Assiah. Shall I let him know you've been looking for him?"

"No need," Raphael said. "I'm sure I'll bump into him sooner or later."

Considering that there were no active wars on at the moment, and no prophecies coming due, there was an insane amount of divine and diabolic activity happening in Assiah, more than could logically be accounted for by the Messiah's presence. Raphael wrinkled his nose and avoided Kanagawa Prefecture entirely—it stank of Belial, and he had no desire to tangle with that one—and settled for tracking Michael's movements across Tokyo.

He very nearly bypassed the first school, figuring it for a fluke, until the boy with glasses looked directly at him, sighed, and inquired, "We're not interested, but thank you anyway." He eyed Raphael. "You might try Hyoutei."

So, not a fluke after all. Raphael studied the boy, who was obviously a seer of some sort—well, the old bloodlines still ran true, sometimes. "I'm not here on business," he said. "I'm looking for an associate."

"I sent Michael to Fudoumine," the boy said promptly. "If you're looking for Lucifer, he was looking for Michael."

Raphael willed his blood not to drain from his face (Tokyo, after all, hadn't gone up in flames yet, so he still had time). "Thank you," he said, and hurried off.

The tennis courts at Fudoumine were tranquil—much more so than he had expected—and when he landed next to Michael with a thump, Raphael wasn't sure whether to be relieved or annoyed by the absence of any cataclysms.

"Raphael." Michael eyed him. "What lit a fire under your ass?"

Raphael shook his wings out, irritably, and furled them away. "Nothing," he said, looking around. "So this is where you've been."

"Yup," Michael said, looking embarrassed.

"Yo, Michael, who's this one?" one of the humans called out.

"Just a guy I work with," Michael said, lazily, waving them back to their game. "Nothing to worry about."

"Ah, so Lucifer has been here after all," Raphael murmured. "And the place is still standing?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

Raphael turned to see a young human female watching them. "Mika-chan isn't known for his restraint," he murmured, "and Lucifer has a way of bringing out the worst in him."

"Does he?" She cocked her head. "Michael-kun, are you going to introduce me?"

"You don't wanna know this guy," Michael warned her. She gave him a look. "Fine, fine. This is Raphael, angel of wind and all-around pervert. Raphael, Tachibana Ann."

"A pleasure to meet you," he said, bowing over her hand.

"...Right." Ann didn't seem particularly impressed. "What brings you to Fudoumine, Raphael-san?"

"Curiosity," he said, and looked back to Michael. "Care to explain to me why you're supporting a junior high tennis team?"

Michael opened his mouth, and then closed it. Raphael raised an eyebrow, waiting, and Ann looked back and forth between them, openly curious. Finally Michael lifted his chin and glared at Raphael. "'Cause these guys are cool," he said. "I like them." His expression dared Raphael to say something about it.

Raphael held his peace, out of consideration for the humans present, and pursued a slightly different subject. "Yes, but... tennis?"

Michael shrugged. "Hatter started it, with Rikkai. Seemed like a good idea to counter her."

The logic behind that was purest Michael: Belial was Lucifer's creature, so anything se did was at least tacitly approved by the Lord of Hell. Therefore, countering Belial was really countering Lucifer. "You really are a simple creature," Raphael sighed.

"Never claimed to be anything but," Michael said, calmly. He looked past Raphael, to the tennis courts. "They're looking good today," he observed.

"They are," Ann agreed, sounding pleased. "Demons or not, we're going to give Rikkai hell at Nationals."

And as neatly as that, he had been dismissed. Raphael sniffed, but Michael ignored him in favor of a discussion of a training regimen, and eventually he gave up and left.

"I said we weren't interested." Tezuka looked at Raphael over the rims of his glasses, and it wasn't quite a glare, but it was close.

"I know you did," Raphael said, calmly, "but consider this: Your shoulder, while recovered, is still vulnerable, and in conjunction with the fact that all of your closest rivals now have angelic or demonic support of various kinds, Seishun Gakuen is at a considerable disadvantage. You can try to do this on your own, but there comes a point where pride must give way to practicalities."

"Tezuka, your shoulder—" Oishi began.

"My shoulder is fine," Tezuka snapped.

"It is not." Raphael crossed his arms. "Trust me, I should know. I am Heaven's most renowned physician."

Fuji opened his eyes. "Tezuka." They locked eyes. "None of us will think any less of you for accepting his aid."

Tezuka's mouth thinned to an angry slash, but Echizen spoke before he could. "Buchou. You didn't have a problem sending an angel to Tachibana," he said. "And I know you're looking forward to meeting Yukimura. Why is what's okay for them wrong for you?" He paused for a beat, to let that soak in. "Besides, they deserve to meet you at your best."

Tezuka sucked in a breath, but when he let it out, his mouth had softened. "Well done, Echizen," he murmured. The boy grinned, and adjusted his cap. Tezuka looked back to Raphael, who had observed this byplay with interest. "We accept your offer," he said, slowly, "but only for as much aid as is strictly necessary." His team let out its collective breath in relief, and Tezuka swept his gaze over them. "Back to practice, all of you."

They grinned at him and dispersed, Momoshiro lifting Echizen's cap in order to ruffle his hair as they went.

"I have to admit," Raphael said, after they had gone, "I didn't think you would accept my offer."

Tezuka was quiet for a long moment before replying. "I would rather not have," he said, finally. "But... to be able to play, all-out, against Yukimura, and Tachibana, and Atobe, without lingering fears..." His smile was quick, gone as quickly as it had come. "It is very compelling."

"So I see," Raphael said. He reached out, probing Tezuka's shoulder, and made a face. "If you had gone ahead without me, you would have ruined this. It's just as well that I came back here."

Tezuka snorted. "I had wondered about that. You seem more Hyoutei's type."

"Quite possibly I am, but I detest Sakaki Tarou and his artistic pretensions," Raphael explained, sending a bit of power through the joint. "There."

Tezuka rotated his shoulder. "Ah. Better. Thank you." He picked up his racquet, ready to head to practice, but stopped. "Raphael-san. A question?" Raphael inclined his head. "Why are your people getting involved?"

"I can't speak for the demons, but as far as the angels..." Raphael shrugged. "Would you believe me if I told you it goes back to sibling rivalry?"

"I might, but that still doesn't explain your presence," Tezuka murmured.

Raphael smiled, and gave the most honest reason he was willing own up to having. "I'm trying to piss Mika-chan off."

Tezuka raised an eyebrow, but let the matter drop, and moved off to join his teammates at practice.

Raphael laced his hands behind his head and contemplated the summer sky. It was, he decided, a beautiful day.

Relatives

Lady Crysiana

Tezuka talks to relatives about his problems. Drama, Humor, I-2

Tezuka looked around the mansion he’d been ushered into, a sinking feeling in his stomach indicating that this was a horribly bad idea and he should just go home. He wondered where his better judgment had gone, and decided that it had probably left in disgust the moment he spoke with an angel. He noted the rather prominent chair at the other end of the room, which was made all the more notable for the fact that the tea table a few feet away from it had a motif of peach and cherry blossoms.

“Nakuru calls it the Throne of Evil,” an amused voice informed him from the shadows. “I would move it out of the room, but everyone’s terribly fond of it, especially little Nadeshiko.” There was a pause. “I had no idea I had another cute relative in Tokyo.”

Tezuka’s expression didn’t change. “I was under the impression that you kept track of the Li family and where they went.”

A man emerged from the shadows. Tezuka quirked an eyebrow at the man’s apron, which had a pink heart on it, and his blue head kerchief. The man smiled brightly at Tezuka. “Well, I kept track of Ayana until I was sure she was happily married, but I couldn’t possibly track all of the children that married out of the Li family through the years, now can I?”

“I suppose not,” said Tezuka stiffly. “I apologize for my rudeness. I’m Tezuka Kunimitsu. It’s an honor to meet you, ancestor.”

“Pfft. You make me feel old. I’m Hiiragizawa Eriol, though you’re free to call me ‘uncle’ if you like.” Something about Eriol’s purely friendly smile made Tezuka uneasy. He wasn’t sure precisely why he wanted to have a wall at his back at the moment, but he forced himself to ignore the urge and go on.

“…Uncle,” Tezuka began. He was mystified when Eriol snickered, but Eriol waved at him to go on. “I don’t want to take up much of your time…”

“Oh, but you must stay for tea,” Eriol said firmly. “Indulge a poor old man like myself and sit,” Eriol said, waving to the table. “I already made enough for both of us, and if Nakuru and Spinel stop being so eerily quiet, I’m sure they’ll enjoy the tea too.”

As if on cue, there was a crash from upstairs, accompanied by a series of thuds. Eriol walked over to poke his head out the door. “Is everyone alright?” he called.

“I DIDN’T DO IT SUPPI DID!”

Eriol sighed faintly. “I suppose I’ll find out later,” he said, waving at Tezuka to sit down, again.

Tezuka hesitantly moved to take a seat and Eriol poured the tea. Upon trying one of the scones, he remarked, “This is very good. Where did you get it?”

“Oh, I like to cook,” Eriol said offhandedly. He shrugged at Tezuka’s mystified look. “If I couldn’t make proper scones myself, I’d have to give back my English heritage, and that would be very difficult at this point. But you said you have a problem,” he added, just as Tezuka took another bite of the scone.

Tezuka attempted not to give Eriol a dark look, and succeeded only from a life of training. It took Tezuka a few minutes to finish the piece of scone, and he said, “I’ve been visited by members of the heavenly host. And people from hell. Currently, the archangel Raphael has healed my shoulder…”

“I noticed that you’d been touched by an angel,” Eriol remarked into his teacup. Tezuka decided that he never, ever wanted Eriol to meet Fuji. He knew that inflection, and given that Fuji might have already spoken with that demon, Tezuka did not need any more headaches.

“…Yes. Michael offered, but I refused. Lucifer and the Mad Hatter have also visited.” Tezuka looked down at his teacup. “I’m concerned for the well-being of my team…”

“You’re looking at the Nationals, aren’t you?” At Tezuka’s glance, Eriol added, “I’m psychic. Also, your mother sends me regular letters.” Tezuka scowled at Eriol, whose smile only brightened. “Got to keep up on the children who are close by, wot?”

Tezuka knew better than to point out that Eriol had said the opposite earlier and forged on. “I just wanted your assurance that, in the interests of looking after your family, you would be willing to help me if any of mine trapped themselves in a mistake.”

Eriol nodded. “Of course. I’m always willing to help out family. I’ll have to meet your team, now, to make sure there isn’t undue influence already…”

Tezuka twitched, and nearly did so again when he realized that Eriol’s smile didn’t have to change to look cheerfully evil. “I’m sure that Raphael…”

Eriol took a sip of tea. “Yes, yes, he’s very good at what he does, but I should see my nephew’s friends, and besides, the last time I saw a good game of tennis was at Wimbledon.”

“Thank you,” Tezuka managed. “…though,” he added, suddenly thoughtful, “I might need your help in making a fair balance.”

Eriol set down his cup as his smile shifted to one of polite interest. “Oh? Keeping the balance in what way?”

“It would require too much participation, really,” Tezuka added. He shook his head. “I’d hate to impose on you, since I know that they have a minor angel taking care of them already…” Tezuka kept his gaze firmly on his teacup.

“Do tell,” Eriol urged, sitting back and steepling his fingers. “You’ve intrigued me.”

“Hyoutei seems to be the only school in serious contention in the Nationals without special backing,” Tezuka explained. “They have an angel, but not one on the level of the others, and I’d be disappointed if they were put at a disadvantage by no fault of their own.”

Eriol looked thoughtful. “I have been looking for something to do with my free time.” When the smile returned, Tezuka found himself wondering if he felt sorrier for Hyoutei or for the other teams. “I’ll help you out. Now, let’s finish our tea, and then I’ll go meet your lovely boys.”

It was at that point that Tezuka began to wonder who had manipulated whom. He pushed the thought aside, deciding that in this case, he really didn’t want to know.

In the Family

Branch

Belial introduces the Fujis to the Mudous. Drama with Humor, I-3

Notes: Contains consensual sibling incest.

"Aniki, couldn't you have gotten Saeki-san to practice with you?" Yuuta asked.

The complaint was for form's sake, and his brother's smile said that he knew it perfectly well. Still. Their... reconciliation... was new enough that Yuuta would have preferred some time away from potential irritants and interruptions.

"Ah, Fuji-kun, what marvelous timing you have. One was hoping to introduce you."

Interruptions like that. Yuuta sighed, resigned, and then had to take a second look at the person who had hailed his brother. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone dressed quite that flamboyantly outside a festival. Or, possibly, a circus. He was busy enough looking at the top hat that it took him a few moments to notice that his brother had paused beside the strange person, and was now standing on Yuuta's other side.

Between him and the strangers. Yuuta took a closer look.

There were, in fact, three of them. The other two looked far more normal. A young man and woman, both blond and looking alike enough they had to be related. So what was it about them that was making Aniki tense up?

"Friends of yours, Hatter-san?" his brother asked the oddly dressed one.

"One rather doubts it," the Hatter person answered, serenely. "Fuji-kun, this is Mudou Setsuna, erstwhile Messiah, and Sara, his..."

"Girlfriend," Setsuna put in, very firmly.

"Of course," Hatter murmured, "and this is Fuji Shuusuke, and his brother, Yuuta I believe it was?"

"Yes." Aniki's smile was starting to sharpen.

So, Yuuta tallied up in his own mind, this person who seemed to know his brother, and who his brother seemed a little wary of, wanted to introduce them to a couple who looked remarkably like relatives. He swallowed hard and tried to keep breathing.

"Aniki," he managed, "who is this?" And, more importantly, what did he know?

His brother stepped a little closer to him. "This is Mad Hatter. He's a demon."

Yuuta turned his head to look at his brother, who appeared to be serious. "A demon?" he repeated, just on the off chance he'd actually misheard.

"Quite," Hatter agreed. And a pair of black wings unfolded behind him.

Yuuta stared. "Aniki," he said, very calmly, "what did you put in my juice this morning?"

"One does assure you, it wasn't your brother," Hatter assured him, waving one wing.

"A demon," Aniki reiterated, "who isn't going to be having anything to do with you, Yuuta. Is he?" Hatter was now on the receiving end of a very dangerous look.

He didn't seem concerned.

"Ah, siblings," Hatter sighed. "They're so precious." He fanned his wings. "And entertaining. Why don't the four of you have a nice little chat, then? One is sure it will be good for all of you."

And then he sank out of sight into his own shadow. Yuuta stared at the sidewalk and reminded himself that it wasn't healthy to hyperventilate.

"So," Setsuna sighed, running a hand through his hair, "you've met Hatter before?"

"He can be entertaining company," Aniki observed.

Setsuna blinked at him for a moment before he burst out laughing. "I'll stop worrying, then!"

Sara swatted his shoulder. "Setsuna, cut it out. Maybe Fuji-san didn't know what he was getting into." She gave them a bright, sympathetic smile, and Yuuta relaxed in spite of himself. It might be nice to talk with her sometime, actually. If he was reading the situation right, she might understand a few things.

"You think?" Setsuna asked, raising a skeptical brow. "I bet he did. He'd probably get along with Hatter's boss, too." The thought seemed to amuse him.

Sara planted her hands on her hips. "Enough of that! You said you'd wait until we were both reborn to start playing politics with everyone again."

"Right, right," Setsuna raised his hands, placatingly. "Anyway, I think we'll probably see you at Nationals, Fuji."

"Really?" Aniki sounded only mildly curious, and Yuuta sighed. Some day, he'd figure out how his brother did it.

Setsuna grinned. "I'm a friend of Tachibana's."

"Small world," Aniki commented in an amiable tone.

"Gettin' smaller every day," Setsuna answered ruefully over his shoulder as his... sister?... towed him off with great determination.

"Are you sure we can't have a nice, calm day inside?" Yuuta asked, looking straight ahead, just in case any other weirdness was strolling by.

His brother laughed, softly. "That might be a good idea after all. Come on, let's head home."

End

Addition and Distraction

Branch

Yanagi talks with Belial. Drama, I-3

It had been a long practice, and only got longer when Hatter decided to tease Genichirou. Renji sighed.

"Enough," Seiichi intervened, at last. He came between the laughing demon and a bristling Genichirou, and took Hatter's shoulders, turning her to face him. "Enough, Belial," he repeated, "I won't have this during practice. And you and I will talk, later, about your habit of trying to destroy the things you want."

Hatter waved a light hand. "As you wish, of course."

Renji observed Hatter's parted lips and the quick flutter of her lashes down over eyes gone dark as Seiichi let her go. That was not entirely surprising; he had spent years watching one person after another fall to Seiichi's charisma. What surprised him more was the fire and sharpness in Seiichi's gaze. That was not the kind of look their captain shared with outsiders, other than the very best of his rivals. And even then, only during a full out match.

Renji waited for Hatter after practice.

"Another talk hm?" Hatter asked, looking him up and down. "One hopes you're less volatile than Sanada-kun. Not that it wasn't entertaining."

"If it isn't an imposition," Renji said, staying polite and noncommittal.

"So?" Hatter prodded, as they strolled through the school grounds.

"What is between you and Seiichi?"

"One could have sworn he explained that some time ago," Hatter murmured, trailing her fingers through the leaves overhead.

It was an outside chance, but Renji decided to try shock. If nothing else, Hatter's reaction should give him a range for the next shot. "He looked at you, this afternoon, the way I've seen him look down at me when his fingers are stroking inside me," he said, softly.

Hatter's step paused, and she directed a half-lidded look up at the sun. "One can imagine," she said, low and husky. She leaned against a tree and smiled at Renji from the corner of her eye. "You want to know whether one has been in bed with him, don't you?"

"I already know you haven't," Renji corrected. The faint wistful edge in her reaction had told him that much. "But I would still like to know just what's going on."

Hatter blinked, and then laughed. "You're very good at this," she complimented him. "One would have thought, though," she added, mouth quirking, "that what is going on would be fairly obvious to one of you."

Renji considered that, and added it to his previous suspicions. "Seiichi does believe very strongly in reciprocality," he essayed.

"One gathered that, yes," Hatter said, dryly. "Generally, a mortal soul isn't strong enough to hold one."

Generally, Renji imagined not. So. Seiichi really had decided to gather Mad Hatter up into the circle of his own. Which left the question of what the rest of them were going to do with their newest addition. "Are truth and honesty the same things, to you?" he asked, another thought coming to him.

Hatter raised her brows. "No, they are not," she answered, softly, eyes intent on him.

Renji nodded. Knowing that, he could work with it. Genichirou, on the other hand, wouldn't deal with such a division so easily. "Could they be?"

"Are you bargaining with one, Yanagi-kun?" Hatter asked.

Renji smiled. "The bargain has already been made, Hatter. Genichirou says that you've tasted Seiichi's soul. I doubt you can leave us, now. It would make things easier, though, if you could moderate your use of the team for amusement."

Hatter stared at him. "One will take that under consideration," she murmured. She tilted her head and added, "You... don't mind it?"

"Seiichi shares his soul very freely, once he chooses to do so at all," Renji answered, quietly. "It's one of the things we love in him."

Pain flickered behind Hatter's eyes before they became shuttered. "I will consider what you say," she said, and vanished into the rustling shadows of the leaves.

End

Regarding

Branch

A memo is mis-directed to Tsuzuki's desk. Humor with Drama

Most of Enma-chou's workers, if asked, would say that Tsuzuki never knew what was on his desk. Notices of meetings, memos about cases, budget forms, if any of them were attended to before it was too late, it was the talk of the department for weeks. According to the average Watari had worked out once to settle a bet in the cafeteria, Tsuzuki was only seen actually reading anything at his desk once every five weeks.

If asked, Tsuzuki would have pointed out, quite reasonably, that he knew exactly what was on his desk. He found out once every five weeks, on average.

"Late anyway, late anyway, closed last week, late anyway," he muttered, sorting through the pile of paper. "Late... hunh?"

"Is one of them actually still current?" Hisoka asked, acidly, not looking up from filling out next month's budget request form.

"Yes," Tsuzuki said, slowly, "but it's not from here."

Now Hisoka looked up. "What?"

"To all demons rank of Brigadier or Duke," Tsuzuki read aloud, "from the domain of Beelzebub. Angelic response to recent demonic acquisitions among mortals are reaching undesirable levels. Any demons who are free are encouraged to go, forthwith, to Assiah (e.g. Earth, the mortal realm) and rectify this. Sec'y, Choronzon."

Hisoka was staring. "There is nothing more blind than bureaucracy," he declared with conviction. "They can't possibly really think you'll participate."

"Well, no, of course not." Tsuzuki nibbled his lip. "But I do kind of wonder just what's going on."

"Not our business," Hisoka said, promptly.

"But we don't have a case right now," Tsuzuki murmured, fingering the memo. "We could go take a look. No harm in that."

Hisoka gave him a baleful look for a long moment before throwing up his hands. "Fine. Fine! Don't think you're going without me, though. Who knows what you'll get involved with if you go alone."

Tsuzuki smiled at his partner, pleased that Hisoka wanted to come, too. It would be good for Hisoka to get out more. "Of course."

"Tennis?" Hisoka said for about the sixth time. "Two of the Great Angels, a Demon Lord, the Messiah, Gabriel's reincarnation, and a Principality are all here on Earth, dancing around each other, stressing the fabric of reality, getting involved with tennis teams?"

"I'm pretty sure a lesser demon was hiding out in one of the boys, too," Tsuzuki added. "Some of them do have a lot of spiritual power, I suppose." He had to admit to being just a little puzzled, himself, though. Not that he couldn't see the fun in watching these boys play; they were very determined and earnest and involved. But he was fairly sure that high ranking celestials wouldn't be hanging around just to appreciate that.

Fairly sure. That Mad Hatter character was making him wonder.

"Maybe we should ask the Gushoushin whether this has ever happened before," Hisoka said, frowning. "This concentration of them on Earth can't be good."

"I do wonder what it might be doing to the boys, to be around this many celestials," Tsuzuki agreed, leaning on the fence to watch the latest team on their list. There didn't seem to be any demons around, or angels either, which almost surprised him. He could hear the church bells from further down the campus. One of the boys did seem to have a touch of... something, though. Tsuzuki squinted.

"Hisoka, can you get anything off that one?" he asked, gesturing.

Just in time for the boy to notice and take a few fast steps back, steel gray eyes wide. A tall, dark teammate came to him and asked something. After a short exchange involving some vigorous gestures they both approached the watchers at the fence.

"Oh, just great," Hisoka groaned.

"I'm sorry, but we don't allow spectators at club practices," the dark one said, politely.

Tsuzuki smiled as brightly and soothingly as he could. "We don't want to be any trouble, we just wanted to check that no one was bothering your team."

The gray eyed boy backed up a little more. "I was right, you are another of them!" he exclaimed.

"No, no," Tsuzuki protested holding up his hands, "we're not, really. Exactly."

Hisoka smacked him on the shoulder. "And now you've confirmed that we know exactly what he's talking about." He gave the wary boy a direct look. "We're not angels or demons. Shut up, Tsuzuki," he added, as Tsuzuki's innate honesty made him start to correct the technical lie. "Our work deals with the messes they leave behind a lot, and we just want to contain the damage this time."

The dark boy, who had listened to all this with his head tipped consideringly, asked, "So what are you?"

"Shinigami."

Both boys edged back this time.

"We're not here on a case," Tsuzuki hastened to add. "It's just... I think one of them has already touched you." He looked at the gray eyed boy.

The boy crossed his arms. "Aniki said Hatter would stay away from me."

"Yuuta." The dark boy put a hand on his shoulder. "Fuji Shuusuke is impressive, but setting him against a demon? This year has gotten strange enough; if it's affecting you we should do something."

Tsuzuki fished through his memories of the day for that name. Ah, yes, the watchful one at Seishun Gakuen. "I'm sure your brother will do all he can protect you. And it's true that Seigaku has its own guardian," Tsuzuki said, softly, "but the Mad Hatter has a reputation for power and subtlety. Your brother doesn't have the training to deal with that, and Raphael doesn't have the motivation. Celestials don't usually get involved with humans without an ulterior motive."

"So what, precisely, are you suggesting?" a new voice asked from behind them. Tsuzuki turned to see a slight boy with sharp eyes watching them.

"Mizuki-san," Yuuta greeted him.

"Yuuta-kun, Akazawa," he nodded, and turned his eyes back to Tsuzuki. "So?"

"To keep outside influences away," Tsuzuki said, simply.

Hisoka slumped against the fence and crossed his arms. "You said it was just to look," he reminded Tsuzuki. "Not that I believed it for a single second, but that was what you said."

"We can't just leave this," Tsuzuki answered firmly, knowing that his partner didn't genuinely disagree. Probably.

"Fine, fine." Hisoka raked a hand through his hair. "Just don't expect me to ask Kurikara to get involved in this. Though he'd probably laugh too hard to manage to be insulting, for once."

Tsuzuki smiled, and reached out with the warmth of his pleasure in place of actually touching Hisoka's arm, which his partner hated for him to do in public. Hisoka sniffed and gave him a sidelong look a little softer than usual.

"I see," Mizuki murmured. "Yuuta-kun?" Yuuta blinked. "It is your team, now," Mizuki told him, with a very significant look for such a simple statement.

Yuuta was still for a moment before his mouth tightened. "Yes," he agreed, not as though he enjoyed the thought right at the moment. "We accept," he told Tsuzuki.

"Great!" Tsuzuki beamed at him.

"Right," Yuuta sighed. "Excuse me, then, I need to get back to practice."

Tsuzuki fetched out a handful of ofuda, sorting through them, as the three boys turned back toward the courts.

"Mizuki-san, I understand why," he heard Yuuta saying as Mizuki came up to walk beside him, "but why them?"

"Because they seem like the most disinterested parties we're likely to get," Mizuki told him. "Besides, doesn't he have lovely eyes? You know how fond I am of purple."

"Mizuki-san!" Yuuta sputtered.

Tsuzuki decided, observing Hisoka's suddenly edged glare at Mizuki's back, that it would be better for all concerned if he pretended he hadn't heard that.

End

Marked

Branch

Somewhat troubled, Belial seeks out Yukimura. Drama, I-3

Belial found Seiichi on the roof of his own house, watching the sky from a nest of pillows and blankets.

"Here to watch the stars, Hatter-san?" Seiichi asked, after a moment, not looking around.

When Belial didn't answer, he looked. "Hatter-san? Come out."

Belial took a few steps out of the shadow, not far enough to show hir face. Apparently, it was still too many, because Seiichi stood, frowning, and came to hir. He took hir face between his hands and gave hir a long, searching look before taking hir hands and leading hir back to his pillow-nest. "You're here now; come watch for a while," he said, tugging Belial down.

Se still wasn't beyond being surprised that someone who fought so fiercely could be so gentle, and se gazed up at Seiichi's face as he curled up beside hir and propped his head on one hand. Belial had no idea what hir face might be showing, but whatever it was made Seiichi smile. He ran his fingers through hir hair, dislodging today's small, round hat.

"You've spent a lot of time and energy courting me, working to gain my willing compliance to go along with my binding signature," he said, softly. "Is it so hard to believe that you've won me?"

The pleasure of hearing Seiichi say it out loud was promptly followed by the confusion that had set Belial to wandering so restlessly this evening. "Won you... and yet you haven't left them," se murmured, trying out the taste and shape of the words. Just how much room did hir human have in his heart?

"No, I haven't," Seiichi agreed, brushing hir cheek with the backs of his fingers. "I don't leave those I care for. I won't leave you, either." He laughed, barely a breath in the night air. "After all, aren't souls immortal?"

"They are." To stay with hir, to not leave hir... The idea tugged at hir even more sharply than the glowing clarity of Seiichi's soul. Belial belonged to Lucifer-sama, there was no question about that. But se was having trouble denying any longer that Seiichi had gained a claim on hir also; at least he seemed willing to share. Se reached up to thread a hand through his hair, like ink marking hir fingers in the dark. Se drew him down to hir, and he smiled, coming willingly, folding the brightness of his presence around hir like wings.

"Have you ever lost?" se murmured against his lips.

"Very rarely," he replied before opening his mouth to hir kiss.

End

Tickets to Zimbabwe

Lady Crysiana

Eriol visits Seigaku, much to Tezuka's dismay. Humor, I-1

Tezuka could have predicted that Eriol would walk right up to Fuji. He also could have predicted the sweet smile that would grace Eriol’s face when said meeting occurred. He had not, however, predicted that Fuji would smile and greet Eriol as if the man were an old friend. Eriol didn’t turn around to look at Tezuka as he explained, “One recognizes one’s own nature in others. It’s what allows one to survive in the world, Mitsu-chan.”

As the rest of the boys had already drifted over to see who the interloper was, Tezuka was quite aware that they were all giving him nervous or questioning looks at the nickname. Tezuka crossed his arms. “This is my uncle, Hiiragizawa Eriol. He insisted that he meet all of you.”

Echizen walked right up to Eriol and eyed him openly. Eriol returned the look with a sweet smile so reminiscent of Fuji’s that Momo and Kaidou both backed up hurriedly. Echizen, seemingly undisturbed by this, nodded decisively and said, “Echizen Ryoma. It’s nice to meet you.” With that, he headed off towards the courts, leaving most of the group staring after him.

Eriol frowned slightly as he watched Echizen’s back, then began snickering quietly. By the time Fuji managed to give him a questioning look, he schooled his expression back to a polite smile. “Oh,” responded to Fuji’s look, “Someone in his family knew an angel, that’s all.” Eriol refused to say more on the subject, even when Tezuka asked, later.

Tezuka didn’t actively begin to worry until Eriol pulled Oishi away from the group and sat him down on a bench. Everyone else had returned to normal practice, on threat of laps, so Tezuka couldn’t watch what was going on between his relative and his friend. It was only when he noticed the odd looks Oishi was giving him upon his return to the courts that Tezuka decided that he never wanted to know.

After practice, Eriol appeared to have magically vanished, because Tezuka refused to believe that Eriol was hiding up in the tree that Echizen habitually napped underneath. When Echizen walked up to pat Tezuka comfortingly on the back, Tezuka was unnerved enough to mutter something under his breath.

“What did he say?” he heard Fuji ask Echizen as they went to change.

“I’m not sure. Something about plane tickets to Zimbabwe.”

“Ah.”

A Small Problem

Lys ap Adin

Aziraphale comes looking for Crowley. Humor, I-2

It was a beautiful day: the sunlight was warm and the bleachers reasonably comfortable, and his host didn't have a match with Atobe for at least another half hour. Crowley stretched and yawned, supremely content with just how good life was.

It really was a pity that things were about to get so complicated.

The man had been peering at passing students and his surroundings with such confusion that it was obvious that he was wildly out of place. Choutarou pegged him as a tourist immediately, and felt obliged to offer his assistance (in his most careful English, since this man seemed to be about as non-Japanese as they came) in the form of directions, or perhaps a map.

However, the offer of directions had turned into a playing tour guide, with Choutarou dredging up vocabulary words he didn't remember learning and wondering how he'd agreed to this. The man was very polite and very curious, and somehow Choutarou just couldn't bring himself to be rude enough to excuse himself from his newfound role. Their walking tour of the Hyoutei campus dragged on, until they fetched up at the tennis courts.

The expression on Atobe's face promised that he would be especially cutting in regards to Choutarou's lateness, and there was no telling what Kantoku would have to say—

Except that Kantoku seemed more concerned with his befuddled tourist than with Choutarou's late arrival to practice.

"What do you want?" Kantoku demanded of the stranger.

"It's lovely to see you again, too, Sakaki-san," the man said, in flawless Japanese, suddenly standing much straighter and looking much more comfortable than he'd been a moment ago. "I trust you've been well?" Choutarou wanted very badly to let his manners slip so that he could make a face at his formerly clueless tourist, especially after the man slid his eyes sidewise and gave him a small smile.

"Well enough. Ohtori, go warm up," Kantoku said, crisply, and wasn't it funny that he seemed ill-at-ease?

There was no chance now to find out what was going on, so Choutarou bowed and headed for the clubhouse, shrugging at Shishido along the way to indicate that he didn't have any clue.

"What do you want?" Sakaki asked again, once the boy had left the range of earshot.

"Really, there's no need to be rude," Aziraphale said, chidingly. "I merely happened to be in the neighborhood, and thought I'd stop by and say hello." He glanced around. "So... tennis? How fascinating."

"Yes, tennis," Sakaki said, and really, his chin couldn't jut out much further. "And music."

"Delightful," Aziraphale murmured.

"If you're here because of the demon, I assure you, I have it under control," Sakaki said.

"You do?" Aziraphale blinked.

"Of course I do," Sakaki said. "Belial is completely focused on Rikkaidai at the moment." He sniffed. "I believe she's only interested in tennis at the moment."

"How shortsighted of her," Aziraphale said, torn between laughter and gibbering. Belial was on Earth? Up to something? On top of everything else? The more he thought about it, the more attractive gibbering began to seem. "How good to know you have things under control here."

That mollified Sakaki a bit. "Thank you."

"If you don't mind, I think I'd like to like to observe your tennis practice for a while. It seems to be quite the fashion lately," Aziraphale said, casually.

"As you like," Sakaki said, tilting his head towards the bleachers.

"Thank you kindly," Aziraphale said, and walked over to the bleachers. He sat in the row up from the napping boy, and once Sakaki had turned his attention back to his team, leaned over. "Crowley," he hissed, "wake up! We've got problems."

One sleepy eye cracked open to stare at him. "What, are you trying to blow my cover?" Crowley replied in a whisper.

"There's no time for that," Aziraphale said, urgently.

"Like hell there's not," Crowley retorted. "Hastur's still out for my blood, you know. And my rank."

"Worry about that later," Aziraphale said. He looked around. "Did you know that Belial is active? Here on Earth?" he asked.

Crowley winced. "She doesn't like people to use that name," he said. "Use Mad Hatter instead."

"Whatever," Aziraphale said. "Crowley, Michael and Raphael are down here, too, and so is the Messiah; Lucifer's been lurking around, and I've misplaced the Adversary."

"What the hell?" Shishido was staring when Choutarou came out of the clubhouse. "Choutarou, who is that guy?"

"What?" Choutarou followed the stares of his teammates to the bleachers, where Jirou was sitting bolt-upright, talking with his tourist. "I don't know. What did he do?"

"Just leaned over and started talking to him, far as I could tell," Mukahi said, sounding as awed as Choutarou felt.

Jirou stood, grabbing the stranger by the wrist, and turned to call over his shoulder, "Sorry, gotta run, things to do, world to save, I'll bring Jirou back in time for Nationals, 'bye!" and the two of them ran.

Kantoku was staring, eyes bugged out, and even Atobe seemed to be having difficulties keeping his composure.

Finally, Choutarou broke the silence. "What did he mean, 'I'll have Jirou back in time for Nationals'?" he asked.

Nobody could give him an answer.

Cost

Branch

Tatsumi has a minor upset. Humor, I-2

Tatsumi Seiichirou read the memo he had found in the middle of Tsuzuki's desk. Then he read it again. He put it down, carefully, and walked, calmly, down the hall to Konoe's office.

"I'm going to be gone this afternoon," he informed the department head, and teleported out before Konoe could do more than blink.

"Tsuzuki, what are you doing here?"

Tsuzuki jumped and yelped with surprise as Tatsumi materialized behind him. "Tatsumi-san! Don't scare me like that!" he exclaimed, pressing a hand to his chest.

Tatsumi's eyes glinted, and Tsuzuki decided, with a sinking feeling, that Tatsumi wasn't in the mood to be distracted today. Fortunately, Hisoka had come up with a good explanation and made Tsuzuki memorize it for just this eventuality.

"I'm just warding these mortals from any careless demonic or angelic influences, so the book keeping doesn't get messed up," Tsuzuki said, brightly.

"On your own time?" Tatsumi asked, with a mildness that didn't reassure Tsuzuki at all. "How responsible of you."

Tsuzuki nodded vigorously. "It seemed like a good thing to do. Preemptive action, and all that." He smiled hopefully.

The set of Tatsumi's shoulders relaxed the slightest bit. "I have been tracking the development of this situation, Tsuzuki. Lately I've been considering putting someone on it. It's a bit out of your jurisdiction, but I suppose if you and Hisoka-kun have already made a start it only makes sense to keep you on it." He nodded, decisively. "All right. Consider yourself assigned here. Submit your expense requests as usual."

Tsuzuki let out a breath of relief, thinking of the, really, very minor damages to one of the dorm buildings, where Byakko had run into it while chasing a tennis ball last week.

"Starting from today," Tatsumi finished.

Relief turned to resignation. "Yes, Tatsumi-san," Tsuzuki sighed.

End

Mother Hen

Branch

Ooishi gets a taste of his own medicine. Humor, I-1

"Ooishi-kun!"

Shuichirou looked around, surprised. Raphael didn't often have much to say during practice. Well, not to the team. He seemed to find a good deal to say to Ryuuzaki-sensei, and whatever it was made her laugh quite a lot. Shuichirou hadn't asked.

Now, however, Raphael was beckoning to him.

"Come here a moment, Ooishi-kun."

"Me?" They had all seen enough to be just a touch wary of Raphael's whims.

Ice blue eyes narrowed. "Yes, you." Raphael snorted. "What is it with you warrior types that you never want to actually talk to a physician before it's a crisis? Come here," pointing to the space in front of him, "and let me look at your wrist. You've been favoring it all day."

Shuichirou cast a reflexive glance at Tezuka. Tezuka looked back, very pointedly not wearing an expression of smug satisfaction. Shuichirou sighed.

"Coming."

End

Family Reunion

Lys ap Adin

The Messiah and the Adversary chat, and Lucifer drops in. Aziraphale and Crowley sweat. Humor with Drama, I-3

The Adversary stared at the Messiah, frowning. The Messiah stared right back, also frowning.

"You're not what I was expecting," Adam said, at last, feeling that a Messiah ought to be wearing a white bathrobe, or have a halo, or somehow demonstrate his difference from ordinary humans (perhaps funny-colored eyes?). A Messiah most assuredly should not have looked like any other teenaged boy.

"Funny, I could say the same about you," the Messiah said, and grinned. He stuck out his hand. "The name's Setsuna."

"Adam." He took the proffered hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, nice to meet you, too, I guess." Setsuna looked thoughtful. "...Wanna go get a burger?"

"Will it have fish in it?" Adam asked, suspiciously. He'd heard things about Japanese cuisine.

Setsuna chuckled. "No, no fish."

"Well, that's all right, then," Adam decided.

"Great. Hold on a minute, willya? I'll be right back." Setsuna headed over to the two girls and the guy with the really neat tattoo, who had been watching them from a distance. The guy was giving Adam some funny looks, but the girls waved Setsuna off after he spoke to them. The guy just looked more puzzled than before.

Setsuna jogged back over. "All right, just wanted to let my girlfriend know I was going," he said. "Let's go."

"You mean you never noticed that Mad Hatter was in Japan, too?" Aziraphale demanded. "Or Michael? Or Raphael? Or Lucifer?"

"Oh, come off it," Crowley grumbled, trudging along after the angel. "I was hiding, remember?" He gestured at his host's body. "Jirou's pretty oblivious, okay?" He stopped short. "Wait a minute. Lucifer? I thought he'd disappeared."

Aziraphale stopped too, and grumbled something under his breath. "Honestly, do you even try to keep up with current events?"

"Hiding," Crowley reminded him. "A person can miss an awful lot of gossip that way." They began walking again. "So... Lucifer?"

"Emerged about the same time as the Messiah," Aziraphale said, briefly.

"And who's the Messiah?" Crowley prompted, when irritation seemed to have gotten the better of Aziraphale.

"The reincarnation of Alexiel," Aziraphale said. "You really are out of the loop these days."

"It happens when you get into the napping thing," Crowley admitted. "So... how did you manage to lose the Antichrist?"

"He's gotten adventurous," Aziraphale explained, with a sigh. "I try to keep an eye on what he's doing, but..." He shrugged. "He's getting good. And without someone to help..."

"Look, you deal with Hastur for me, and I'll come back," Crowley said. "That's easy enough, right?"

"So easy that you'd rather hide in a teenager than do it yourself?" Aziraphale inquired. "Never mind, we're here."

"Fudoumine?" Crowley asked. "Why here?"

Aziraphale shrugged. "Michael will know where to find the Messiah."

Crowley paled. "Michael? ...Aziraphale, he kills demons, you know."

Aziraphale smiled. "Then it's just as well that you've had so much practice pretending to be human, isn't it?"

It was, Michael decided, shaping up to be a really weird afternoon. First Setsuna and that kid—who looked familiar, even if he couldn't quite place the face—and now this.

"Lord Michael." Aziraphale was bowing, and the demon lurking behind him pretending to be one of Hyoutei's elitist bastards was trying to bow and be inconspicuous all at the same time. It was pretty funny, actually.

"Yeah?" Michael had to admit, he was damn curious about what was going on. Last he'd heard, this guy'd helped stop Armageddon, which wouldn't normally qualify him for an entry in Michael's good book (He'd had his sword all sharp and ready to go, and they called the whole thing off? Bastards.), but it did qualify him for entry under the "Interesting People Whose Asses I Might Need To Kick" heading. "Whaddya want?"

"I was hoping you could tell me where I might find the Messiah," Aziraphale said, speaking in an undertone after a quick look over at Ann, who was watching the proceedings with avid curiosity.

"Who, Setsuna? He left here a while ago with some kid," Michael said.

The demon's head came up. "Oh, fuck," he said, obviously forgetting that he was pretending to be inconspicuous. Michael gave him a look, and the demon gulped. "Um. Hello?" he said, with a little wave. "You're looking well, Michael-sama."

"So much for that," Aziraphale muttered. "The, uh, child the Messiah was with—"

"Who is he?" Michael asked, but if this was Aziraphale and his pet demon, then there was really only one answer. "No way. No fucking way."

"He is," Crowley sighed.

Michael growled. "That bastard Setsuna never said a word."

"So," Setsuna said, halfway through his hamburger. "What brings you to Tokyo?"

"Godzilla," Adam said promptly.

"...okay." Setsuna waited.

"Well, mostly Godzilla," Adam said, thoughtful. "It was a really neat movie."

"It's not bad," Setsuna allowed, and waited some more.

"I thought I'd come over and see if I could find Godzilla for myself."

Setsuna raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh."

"Well, it could happen," Adam said, his tone indicating that he'd seen stranger things happen before.

"I suppose it could," Setsuna conceded. "This is Tokyo."

"Exactly." Adam grinned. "And then, since I was over here anyway, I thought we should meet."

"And here we are," Setsuna finished, and waited.

Adam held out for most of the rest of another hamburger before caving. "Actually," he said, fidgeting with the wrapper, "I was wondering..."

"Yes?" Setsuna asked.

"Um." Adam looked distinctly embarrassed. "D'you, uh, know much about... girls?"

Setsuna grinned and sat back. "Well," he said, "I might know something."

"Well, they don't seem to be fighting," Crowley reported, ducking back into the alley where Aziraphale was waiting. "If anything, they're bonding."

"Bonding," Aziraphale repeated.

Crowley shrugged. "I call them like I see them."

Aziraphale snorted, and shook his head. "The Messiah and the Adversary, bonding over hamburgers. Perhaps this isn't going to be a complete disaster after all—"

And then Lucifer showed up.

"So I shouldn't be trying to impress her." Adam said.

"Nope." Setsuna shrugged. "I find that it usually doesn't work, and ends up making you look stupid, too."

"And I should be myself."

"Yup," Setsuna nodded.

"But still be nice and pay attention to her," Adam finished, wondering how he was supposed to be himself and be nice, both.

"Sounds like you've got the idea," Setsuna said.

Adam mulled it over. "Well, I can give it a shot," he said, still harboring some doubts, although not trying to impress Pepper—who could do a better "I've seen it all, and it all bores me" than anyone he'd ever seen—sounded like it would make his life infinitely easier. "Thanks."

"No problem—oh, crap." Setsuna dropped the french fry he'd been about to bite into. "What's he doing here?"

Adam sat up as the sense of that presence washed over him. "Oh, God," he said.

Setsuna's grin was crooked. "Not exactly," he said, "and I wouldn't make that comparison to his face, if I were you." He slid out of the booth. "C'mon, let's go see what he wants."

Aziraphale was doing his best to merge with the wall at his back, since an out-and-out retreat would have involved stepping past Lucifer, and he wasn't crazy.

Beside him, Crowley exhaled softly. "It's true. He really is back."

"You didn't believe me?" Aziraphale snapped, all-too-conscious that the odds were not the least bit in his favor, and wishing Michael had decided to come along after all.

"And what have we here?" Lucifer asked, sweeping an amused gaze over them.

"My lord." Crowley bowed, deeply. It had been a good run, at least, Aziraphale decided.

"Crowley." Lucifer inclined his head slightly. "I trust there's a reason for you to be possessing that human?"

"Professional friction between Hastur and me, my lord," Crowley said, and there was nothing but respect in his tone. Even if he hadn't fallen so much as sauntered downwards, this was an alarming development.

"Well, looks like quite a meeting to be having out here by the dumpsters," someone said cheerfully. "Didn't expect to see you again so soon, Lucifer."

Lucifer shrugged. "I merely thought that it was high time I met my son," he said, mildly.

Jirou was having the most fascinating day he'd had since, well, ever, and he hadn't even played any tennis yet. He'd had no idea Crowley-san knew such interesting people, and that he'd get to meet them (albeit only as a spectator).

"Your son?" the new guy said, sounding surprised. He turned to the boy who was lurking behind him. "You never mentioned that."

"You never asked," the other boy retorted. He looked at Lucifer. "So, you're him, huh?"

"I am," Lucifer said. "What's your name, boy?"

"Adam," he said, and Jirou had the oddest feeling that the boy was assessing Lucifer, and not the other way around. "And you're not my father."

Since he was essentially doomed anyway, even with the Messiah standing right there (and the Messiah had helped kill God anyway, so his allegiances were questionable, and Alexiel had a history with Lucifer), Aziraphale spoke up. "What I believe Adam is trying to say," he said, meekly, "is that his father is the one he grew up with, not the one biology assigned him."

"Exactly," Adam said, crossing his arms and sounding satisfied. "That's what I meant, only with smaller words. So I guess you came up here for nothing."

"Hardly," Lucifer said, after barely sparing a glance for Aziraphale. "If I am given to understand the events of Armageddon correctly, you are a formidable young man."

Adam blinked. "What, you didn't know what happened?"

"Of course he didn't," the Messiah said, ruffling Adam's hair. "He was kinda lock—"

"I was indisposed," Lucifer interrupted, firmly.

The Messiah grinned. "Whatever you wanna call it, he wasn't around. My guess is that the old bastard rigged it."

"Possibly," Lucifer agreed. "Beelzebub is more malleable than he thinks."

Adam looked to Aziraphale. "Who are they talking about?"

"God," Aziraphale said.

"Old Ineffable Himself?" Crowley said. "So he does have a hand in all this?"

"Had," Lucifer corrected him, absently. "He's dead now."

"And good riddance, too," the Messiah muttered. Aziraphale winced a little. Definitely no help from that quarter.

"And I missed it?" Crowley sounded outraged.

"What rock have you been hiding under?" the Messiah asked.

"A pretty big one, I'd say," Crowley said, "if I missed a deicide."

"And at no small cost to your responsibilities in hell," Lucifer added, "or have you forgotten that the rank of duke carries duties?"

"Yes, lord. Um. I mean, no. Um—I didn't kill Ligur for his job." Crowley waved his hands. "Mostly I was just trying to survive."

"Indeed, and stopping Armageddon while you were at it, and consorting with an angel." Aziraphale gulped as Lucifer made a complicated gesture, but there was just a soft pop, and then some swearing, as Jirou and Crowley's bodies tried to occupy the same space and failed miserably.

Jirou scrambled to his feet. "That was so awesome!" he enthused, and if Aziraphale hadn't reached out and held the boy back, he might have actually managed to seize Lucifer's hand. "What else can you—"

Aziraphale eased the boy to the ground as he fell asleep mid-sentence (with only a bare hint of Aziraphale's encouragement), and the Messiah laughed at Lucifer's face. "He's excitable, isn't he?" he noted.

"Very," Crowley grunted, climbing to his feet and manifesting a suit. "You should see him when he's playing Atobe." He bowed to Lucifer again. "Thank you, my lord, for the new body," he sighed. "I'll return to Hell immediately to see to my duties."

"Don't," Lucifer said. "You're being reassigned."

"I am?" Crowley looked at him blankly.

"Yes. You will be serving as bodyguard to my—to Adam," Lucifer said. "Do try not to lose him again."

Adam protested. "I don't need a bodyguard!"

"Of course you do," the Messiah said. "You've already got one." He nodded at Aziraphale.

"What, really?" Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale.

"Not officially. Officially, I'm watching him," Aziraphale admitted, shifting under the weight of Lucifer's gaze. "But unofficially... I'm watching over him."

"And I'm certain Crowley will be a great deal of help to you," Lucifer said.

"I don't want bodyguards!"

"Tough," Crowley said, sidling around Lucifer and snapping a pair of sunglasses into existence. He perched them on his nose. "Because there is no way I'm disobeying a direct order from him."

"This isn't fair," Adam grumbled, leveling a glare at them all. He looked at the Messiah. "Do you have a bodyguard?" he demanded.

"Nope, but then, I'm in control of my own powers," the Messiah said cheerfully, "and that tends to deter most would-be assassins."

"Besides, life doesn't tend to be fair, or so I've noticed," Aziraphale murmured, deciding that perhaps he was going to live after all. He placed his hands on his hips. "And do you have any idea how worried I was when you disappeared?"

"Had things to do," Adam mumbled. He waved a hand. "People to see."

"And it never occurred to you that it might be dangerous to traipse across the globe to meet the Messiah, who by definition has every right to try to kill you on sight?" Crowley asked. Adam shook his head, sullenly. "Damn. You don't need bodyguards. You need babysitters."

Aziraphale stared as Lucifer began to chuckle, and even the Messiah looked impressed. "I've chosen well, I think," Lucifer murmured, finally.

"They'll do," the Messiah agreed, and then he checked his watch. "Crap, it's getting late. I've got to get going. Nice meeting you, Adam."

"Yeah, you too," Adam said.

The Messiah looked at Lucifer. "Will we be seeing you at Nationals?" he asked.

"I wouldn't dream of missing it," Lucifer said.

"Thought so," the Messiah said. "Remember what I told you, Adam. See you around." He waved and headed off.

"Should the Messiah be giving advice to the Antichrist?" Crowley asked Aziraphale.

"Are you going to be the one to stop him," Aziraphale asked.

"Well... no."

"Then the Messiah can give the Antichrist all the advice he wants," Aziraphale said. "It's up to Adam whether he takes it."

"Gentlemen," Lucifer said, politely. "If I may have a word with Adam?"

Adam glared. "Don't wanna talk to you," he grumbled.

"You don't have a choice," Crowley said, as Aziraphale woke Jirou up and dragged him out of the alley. "We'll just be out there," he said, and followed Aziraphale.

"So... you must be Aziraphale," Jirou said, apparently perfectly at ease with his narcoleptic fit.

"Yes," Aziraphale said.

"So you're an angel like Kantoku?" Jirou pursued.

"I should hope," Aziraphale said, slowly, "that I'm not very much like Sakaki at all."

"Fair enough," Jirou said. He looked back into the alley. "So that's really the devil?"

"And the Antichrist," Crowley said, helpfully.

"He's really cool," Jirou said, eyes shining.

"A lot of people think so," Aziraphale grumbled.

"A lot of people are right," Crowley said sharply.

"Hmph." Aziraphale shut up.

Adam crossed his arms and sulked against an alley wall. "Well?"

At least, Lucifer decided, he could be grateful that he'd had experience dealing with prickly teenagers. "Why not destroy the world?" he asked.

"Because I like it," Adam said, with an eye roll for emphasis.

"And why not rule it for yourself?"

Adam frowned. "Too much work, for one thing." He shrugged. "Sure, I could rule it myself and fix everything, but then people would be coming to me all the time and asking me to fix stuff for them. It's better that they learn to fix things themselves."

Lucifer nodded. "Very good," he said.

Adam rolled his eyes. "My turn for a question," he said. "Are you really my father?"

"That's what they tell me," Lucifer said, frowning. "I wasn't exactly consulted beforehand."

Adam's eyebrows went up. "Then how...?" He flushed.

"Demon magic and a laboratory, I believe." Lucifer looked him in the eye. "It was a shock to return home to find I'd been gifted a son in my absence."

Adam frowned. "Then who was it who nearly showed up back then?"

"One of the higher-ranking demon lords," Lucifer said. He examined his nails. "He has since been relieved of his duties."

"Good," Adam said. He made a face. "You aren't really going to make me put up with them, are you?" he said, jerking his head in Crowley and Aziraphale's direction.

"So... I guess this means you're leaving, huh?" Jirou asked, when it seemed like neither Crowley-san nor Aziraphale-san was going to speak.

"Yeah. Duty calls, and all that." Crowley-san waved a hand. "Kid belongs in England."

"That means you'll miss Nationals, though!" Jirou protested, horrified.

"Uh... yeah, I guess I will," Crowley-san said, looking uncomfortable. "Hyoutei's sure to win, though," he added.

"But don't the other schools have angels? Or demons?" Jirou asked.

Crowley-san blinked. "Oh, no," he said, firmly. "No chance. Your coach does not want my help, trust me... though he might not turn down Aziraphale."

"Absolutely not," Aziraphale-san said, and sniffed. "I can't work with him."

Jirou didn't really see a problem, but since one apparently existed, he went back to a less touchy subject. "You really think we'll be okay on our own?"

Crowley-san grinned. "You'll be fine. There's more to Hyoutei than meets the eye. Promise."

"I still wish you were going to be there for Nationals," Jirou said, a trifle wistfully.

Crowley-san coughed. "Well, um. Oh, looks like they're done," he said, quickly, as Adam-kun slouched out of the alley, followed by the devil.

"Gracefully done," Aziraphale-san murmured.

"Oh, shut up."

"Gentlemen," the devil said, "I believe I'll leave things in your—" and Jirou wasn't sure, but he thought he heard an infinitesimal pause there "—capable hands."

"Yes, lord," Crowley said, and bowed.

"Still don't think this is fair," Adam-kun muttered.

"Duly noted," the devil said, sounding the faintest bit exasperated, and vanished.

"Cooooooooool," Jirou sighed.

The boy spent the entire trip back to Hyoutei expounding upon the wonders of tennis to the Adversary, and if Aziraphale wasn't mistaken, there were a lot of tennis courts pending in his near future—assuming, of course, that Adam didn't just bounce on to a new interest once they were safely home again. Judging from the way Adam was hanging onto every word Jirou had to say (currently, something about a player who could make the tennis ball roll along the net, which surely wasn't possible, right?) though, it looked like tennis could hold his attention for at least a week.

At least tennis was wholesome.

"Looks like we're even returning him before the end of practice," Crowley said, with some satisfaction, as they strolled into sight of Hyoutei's tennis courts. "So, is it as much fun for you as it is for me to see Sakaki this baffled?"

"Well..." Aziraphale paused, "one does wonder how he managed to last so long without being demoted."

Crowley snickered, and waved to Hyoutei's coach. "See, here he is, safe and sound! World didn't need saving after all!"

"For a change," Aziraphale added, under his breath. "Adam! Time to go."

Adam-kun made a face at Aziraphale-san. "This completely sucks," he complained to Jirou.

"It does," Jirou sympathized. "You really have to talk them into letting you come back for Nationals. I mean, if the devil is going to show up, you should too, right?"

Adam-kun considered it. "Practically a family obligation, when you look at it that way," he said. He grinned.

"Adam!"

He rolled his eyes. "I'll see what I can do," he said, with a grin. "Nice meeting you, Jirou."

"You too. See you around." Jirou waved him off, and turned to find his teammates eyeing him curiously. "So, did I miss anything while I was gone?"

Better

Shiraume

Watari takes advantage of the situation. Humor, I-1

The Juuohcho employees frantically threw themselves out of the way as a blond shinigami in lab coat stormed down the corridor, muttering a litany of "funds" and "cut down," with intermittent "Tatsumi," and numerous repetitions of "kill." The look on the man's face was enough to send even Terazuma scurrying for cover.

Watari Yutaka was not a happy man today.

Konoe jumped when the door slammed open and Watari stomped inside. "Where is Tatsumi?" Watari demanded, and Konoe gulped when Watari's smoldering gaze focused on him.

"He left a few minutes ago," Konoe managed to squeak out and Watari narrowed his eyes; there was only one reason why the workaholic would not be at his desk during the office hours: a Tsuzuki-related accident. Watari stalked to Tsuzuki's desk and examined the mess for clues, until a memo on top of the file caught his eyes. The slight frown of concentration changed to a look of understanding, then that of fierce determination, and the next moment, he was gone from the office. Konoe breathed a sigh of relief. They really weren't paying him enough for this job.

Once in Tokyo, it was easy enough to find Tsuzuki — all one had to do was follow the explosions, really — and by the same route, Tatsumi, currently talking to Tsuzuki. Watari stopped to compose himself. It would not do to lose his momentum now. He had a mission to accomplish here! Taking a deep breath, Watari opened his mouth to call out, and stopped.

"I'm just warding these mortals from any careless demonic or angelic influences, so the book keeping doesn't get messed up," Tsuzuki was saying. Watari closed his mouth and raised an eyebrow.

"On your own time?" Tatsumi asked, and Watari hid a snicker. His thoughts exactly.

"It seemed like a good thing to do. Preemptive action, and all that," Tsuzuki explained, and Watari frowned, wondering why he hadn't heard anything about this before (though admittedly he had been rather distracted lately, what with the breakthrough in his potions research...). Watari pursed his lips, the gears turning in his head. Now, he was sure there was some way he could use this situation, once he found out more about what was actually going on.

Very quietly, Watari backed up and teleported to the Juuohcho library, grabbing both Gushoshin on his way and locking the door. Some time later, Watari emerged from the library with an unholy gleam in his eyes, and strode down the corridor back to his lab. For the second time in the same day, the Juuohcho employees frantically scrambled out of Watari's way, fearing for their afterlife.

Three days later...

"Watari-san, are you sure this isn't against the rules?" Wakaba asked, nervously looking around to make sure no one was watching.

Watari gestured her closer, smiling widely. "Of course! Now, Wakaba-chan, I have a special today for my favorite girl."

Against her better judgment, Wakaba drew closer, and peered. Half an hour later, Wakaba carefully snuck out of the lab, flushed and smiling. She couldn't wait to talk to Hajime-chan about this!

Back in the lab, Watari, in his intense concentration, did not notice a presence looming behind him until his shadow began to tremble.

"Watari-san."

Watari, recognizing the voice, promptly whirled around to face him. "Tatsumi. Hi."

"Good afternoon. Might I ask what you are doing here?" Tatsumi's voice was pleasantly icy, and Watari swallowed. Ah well, the cat was out of the bag and all. Watari gave him a sunny smile.

"Writing down all the bets. Do you want to place one?"

Tatsumi was silent for a while. "That," Tatsumi said finally, "is definitely against the office protocol."

"But not against the rules," Watari said winningly. "I checked."

"Watari-san."

"I'll give you a sure winner," Watari said brightly. Seeing Tatsumi's cool glare, Watari tried again. "Okay, wanna split the profit 70-30?"

"50-50," Tatsumi said coolly, pushing up his glasses.

"60-40," Watari countered, not giving an inch.

"Deal." Tatsumi shook Watari's hand once, firmly. "Now that's been settled, we have a meeting in five minutes."

"Sure, just give me a minute," Watari said distractedly as he put away the white board.

"Could I ask why?" Tatsumi asked curiously as they walked out of the lab. Watari shrugged, locking the door.

"I need more funds for my research."

Note: "Better" is the accepted alternate spelling for "bettor."

Saintly

Lys ap Adin

Raphael earns the gratitude of Seigaku. Humor, I-1

Just being an angel didn't qualify Raphael as a particularly nice person. In fact, he'd be the first to admit that he wasn't even a particularly good person. He was a philanderer—all right, a recently reformed philanderer—and vain, self-centered, and arrogant to boot. It wasn't his style to go out of his way for anyone or anything without some sort of compensation in the offing.

But as far as the Seigaku Regulars were concerned, Raphael was a saint, despite his many flaws.

It wasn't because he'd healed Tezuka's shoulder, or Oishi's wrist, or assured Momo that, indeed, his ankle was just fine so-stop-pestering-me-damn-it. It wasn't because he'd given Inui advice about training schedules, or that he could make a homework migraine vanish with a glance.

It was what he didn't do that qualified him for canonization in their eyes.

Horio waved his banner. I've had laryngitis for weeks! it read. Do something!

Raphael ignored him, and indeed, peace reigned upon the Seigaku tennis courts.

Balance

Lady Crysiana

Eriol visits Hyoutei and makes Atobe an offer. Humor, I-1

Hiyoshi noticed the stranger first, and decided that he’d regret it for the rest of his life. This was especially true since the last time a stranger had appeared on the courts, Jirou had run off with him and there had been some business about an antichrist, the explanation for which Hiyoshi was determined to ignore.

The stranger seemed to hover innocently by the side of the courts, but it wasn’t a hovering Hiyoshi was used to. Fans came and watched Atobe or, occasionally, one of the others with rapt attention. Scouts came and watched with a measuring sort of concentration. While the man did seem to be weighing Atobe as the boy played a rare game with Oshitari, Hiyoshi thought that there seemed to be too much of an edge of amusement for a scout.

Hiyoshi marched over to the interloper. “Can I help you?” he asked politely.

The interloper eyed Hiyoshi for a moment, then smiled a bright, unnerving smile. Hiyoshi backed up a step before he could stop himself, even as the man said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m here to talk with your captain…that boy playing, correct?” He inclined his head towards Atobe.

Hiyoshi nodded reluctantly. “You’ll have to wait until the set is over.”

The man strolled over to settle himself on the bleachers. “Then you can come and talk with me.” He patted the seat beside him.

Hiyoshi settled there uncertainly, painfully conscious of the fact that it would be rude to leave an elder alone, particularly one who seemed to have business with his captain. “Talk with you?”

The man smiled brightly. “Oh, yes, of course. You see, I think that you’re a very observant boy and can therefore answer some of the more pressing questions, like whether you noticed that your coach is an angel, or that one of your fellow students is possessed.”

“…well…everyone found out just recently,” Hiyoshi said. “The person inside Jirou ran off with him.” Hiyoshi twitched at the sudden gleam of interest in the man’s eyes, and had to suppress another twitch as the man very deliberately set the interest aside to continue.

“I expect, though, your being brought up in a proper home as you were, you noticed something beforehand,” the man went on blithely. “Now, I understand your not coming to me over it, but I still find it terribly disappointing.”

Hiyoshi scowled and eyed the man. “I…you…”

“Exactly,” the man replied. “But I forgive you.” Hiyoshi listened, more or less, for a few more minutes as the man went on. He was lost enough, in fact, that he didn’t notice when Atobe came over to glare at them.

“Excuse me, but I’m afraid we don’t allow visitors during practice,” Atobe interjected. The man looked up at Atobe with an expression of polite disinterest that Hiyoshi recalled from Atobe’s own repertoire.

“Of course,” the man said. “You know, I thought you’d be more entertaining.”

Atobe hmphed and lounged against the air. “I’m eminently entertaining at all times.”

Hiyoshi felt a spike of terror go through him as the man’s look turned thoughtful. “Of course, Atobe-kun,” the man said smoothly. The man’s smile was the brightest Hiyoshi had seen him give yet. “I have a modest proposal for you.”

Atobe straightened to give the man a hard look. “I especially cannot tolerate scouts interrupting practice,” he said coolly. “While I sincerely appreciate your interest and will be willing to talk to you should you come at another time, my first responsibility is to ensure the well-being of my team, which means that practice should not be interrupted.”

“Of course, Keigo-san,” the man replied, rising. “I only intended to offer my assistance in this rather confusing times. I could prevent incidents like, say, the one that occurred with Akutagawa-kun, but I understand if you’d rather take the risks that you’ll be facing in the Nationals on your own power. I certainly admire it.” The man turned to walk away.

“…wait.” Atobe stared hard at the man, and Hiyoshi noted that his captain’s mouth turned down in a rather sour frown usually associated with Jirou running off the court to tell Atobe something interesting. “What risks are you talking about?”

The man waved expansively. “Oh, Archangels backing up Fudoumine and Seishun Gakuen, and a high level demon adopting Rikkai. You’ll be pleased to know that Seigaku’s archangel has taken care of ’Mitsu-kun. That’s Tezuka Kunimitsu.”

Hiyoshi noted that Shishido, who had just walked over with Ohtori, looked as if he wished he had a camera to catch the appalled look on their captain’s face. Atobe’s mouth worked silently for a moment before he said, “Do you know him, then?”

“'mitsu-kun?” the man said. “Of course I know him. He sent me out of concern that the matches would be unbalanced with the support you have. Kunimitsu is very concerned with fairness, as I’m sure you know.” The man returned Atobe’s suspicious look with unbelievable innocence. “In any case, should you wish for my assistance, you’ll find my card behind the photograph by your bedside.”

“You’ve been in my room?” Atobe asked, frowning. “You shouldn’t have been able to get in.”

The man nodded. “I wasn’t able to get in, Keigo. And if you don’t wish to contact me, my card will not be there. It will only be there if you do wish to contact me.” The man turned again to walk away.

“What’s your name?” Shishido asked him, as Atobe didn’t seem inclined to speak to the man again. The man smiled sunnily at Shishido and inclined his head to him.

“Hiiragizawa Eriol, at your service.” With that, the man disappeared in a cloud of cherry blossoms. Shishido dashed over to where Eriol had been standing and looked around, but Hiyoshi was already turning back to Atobe, who suddenly looked thoughtful.

“Hiiragizawa,” Atobe murmured.

History Lesson

Branch

Belial talks to Rikkai about the past. Drama, I-3

"So?" Renji asked, as Genichirou and Seiichi returned to the courts. "How did the drawing go?"

"We're on the same side of the chart as Seigaku," Seiichi answered with a small smile.

Renji chuckled. "Well, then."

Genichirou made a disgruntled sound. "Tezuka cornered me to ask if we were sure we knew what we were doing, getting mixed up with a demon, especially this one." He glanced at Hatter. "I can't imagine how you got such a reputation."

"No, you probably can't," Hatter murmured, looking away. Renji sighed. She'd been in a distant and cryptic mood all day.

Seiichi frowned and touched her shoulder. "Belial?"

"One is not kind," she said, very precisely, without looking around. "Nor benign. One has corrupted lives and souls and cities. Most recently, one provoked the Host to attack an ally and caused the destruction of Kurai's kingdom and people. One led Kurai herself into a marriage that would have sacrificed her life, by lying to her at nearly every turn. You should remember this."

Seiichi was silent for a long moment. "There must be some reason Kurai-san has forgiven you."

"She is a queen and a demon," Hatter answered, coolly. "She understands expedience." Her hands were clasped hard enough to whiten the knuckles, Renji noted. "Our lord was gone," Hatter added, far more quietly. "One did what was necessary to preserve Hell. Whatever was necessary"

Renji was not entirely surprised to see Genichirou pause, arrested.

"Yes," Genichirou said, at last. Hatter glanced at him. "I understand. We won't forget."

Hatter looked at him, head to one side. Finally she nodded.

Genichirou crossed his arms. "Watching tennis isn't about to calm you down, today, is it? Come on." He turned away and then looked back over his shoulder. "Live blades, if you want."

For the first time that day, Hatter smiled.

End

Worth

Lys ap Adin

Tezuka sets up ranking blocks. Angst, I-4

"Headache, Tezuka-kun?" Raphael asked, leaning against one of the empty desks.

Kunimitsu took his hand from his forehead. "I'm fine," he said, and that was true, but not likely to deter Raphael's bored curiosity.

"And here I thought there wasn't the homework assignment invented that you couldn't master," the angel said.

"It's not homework," Kunimitsu said, and because today was not a good day, he simply slid the stack of papers towards Raphael, who picked them up after a moment.

"Lovely penmanship," Raphael noted, which was a reminder Kunimitsu didn't particularly need to write out a clean copy for Ryuuzaki-sensei. He handed the papers back. "What is it?"

Heartbreak, he wanted to say. Disappointment. Exclusion. The last time I have to decide who stays and who goes—until the next time I have to decide. "The assignments for the ranking matches."

Kunimitsu took out a fresh sheet of paper and began transcribing the names again, this time without the cross-outs and scribbling. "Hardly seems worth a headache," Raphael said, examining his nails.

Kunimitsu put his pen down. "Raphael-san." When the angel was looking at him, Kunimitsu spoke carefully. "There are only eight slots for Regulars."

"And a slot for the captain, of course," Raphael said.

"No. Including the captain." Kunimitsu began writing again, filling in the names for the A Block. His name. Fuji's. Arai's. Yoshimura's. Kuwahara's.

"I see. Perhaps worth the headache after all." Raphael at least had the decency to sound respectful of a difficult decision. "Still. It seems odd to eliminate one of your best players purely for the sake of numbers."

"Are you suggesting I make an exception?" B Block: Oishi. Kawamura. Ikeda. Nishi. Mikami. Fushimi.

"Of course not," Raphael said. "It's not like you would listen."

"It would be easy," Kunimitsu said. "Seigaku gives its captains the power to make these decisions. I could do it." C Block: Kikumaru. Inui. Nagayama. Saeki. Hiratsuka. Nakahama.

"But you won't." He could feel Raphael eyeing him. "Why not?"

"Seigaku's strength lies in the monthly ranking matches." D Block: Echizen. Momoshiro. Kaidoh. Ninose. Kashiwa. Ogawa. "While I am captain, no one who wears that jersey will ever need to wonder whether he earned the right to wear the jersey."

"I've heard," Raphael murmured, "that before this year, freshmen weren't allowed to compete for a position on the Regulars."

"That's true," Kunimitsu said, evenly. "Before this year, they were not." Raphael's eyebrows drifted up. "Before this year, there wasn't a freshman skilled enough to be worth ranking against his sempai."

"There wasn't?" Raphael smirked. "Sumire-chan tells me stories, you know."

"Ryuuzaki-sensei has been a coach for years. I'm sure she knows many stories," he said.

"Indeed she does." Raphael stood. "A good leader, Tezuka-kun, knows when to break his rules, and when to follow them." He paused, probably waiting to be asked whether he thought Kunimitsu was a good leader. When Kunimitsu didn't ask, Raphael sighed, expression wry. "You're one of the good ones," he said. "For what it's worth."

Kunimitsu inclined his head. "For what it's worth," he said, "thank you." He stood as well, and went to deliver the paperwork for the ranking matches to Ryuuzaki-sensei.

Willing

Branch

Sakaki gets what he wants. Drama, I-3

It was not, Tarou reflected, unusual for Keigo to sit in the window when he and his coach were discussing the tennis club. Tarou gave him that much latitude, because Atobe Keigo's willing obedience was a valuable thing. Normally, however, he paid proper attention, no matter how he lounged.

Today he was looking out the window.

"Sensei."

Tarou arched a brow. An unusual day, indeed; Keigo didn't often call him that anymore.

Keigo leaned his head back against the casement with a faint thump. "Is all this really... real?" he asked.

Ah. So that was it.

"Yukimura selling his soul to a demon," Keigo continued, tone almost dreamy. "Tachibana practically adopting an angel. Tezuka attaching another one. Not to mention that... person he foisted on us. And Jirou..."

Tarou sighed. He really should have expected it. Keigo was a dyed-in-the-wool empiricist. And Hiiragizawa was hardly the sort of person to reassure an empiricist; even when he showed his magic openly, the form of it was far too easily attributable to hallucination. Fortunately, Tarou had an answer for the problem. "Atobe, come away from the window," he ordered, rising from his desk.

Keigo blinked, but slid down readily enough.

Tarou unfolded his wings. Keigo's eyes widened and he swallowed a bit hard. Tarou shrugged and swept his wings forward.

"You can touch them. Carefully." He needn't have specified. Keigo barely touched his fingertips to the leading edge before he drew back to regain his composure. Tarou had faith in his protege's self control, when he chose to exercise it, and left Keigo to it, refolding his wings and seating himself again. "Jirou does not seem to have been possessed as such," he supplied when Keigo had regained some color and was looking him full in the face again. "Rather, Crowley seems to be hiding in his consciousness. The snake has always been good at hiding."

Keigo took a deep breath and let it out, perching on one of the office chairs. "Is this going to interfere with the games?"

Tarou almost smiled. When Keigo thought something was important, he could be relied on to swing back to it like a compass needle. It was one of the traits that had first recommended him to Tarou's attention, even as a child. "I doubt it. Not," he added, "that the others wouldn't do it. But the players themselves would protest. Wouldn't they?" He gave Keigo a significant look.

Keigo's chin came up. "Of course."

"Well, then." Tarou folded his hands, examining Keigo. "I hadn't intended to mention this until you were older, but I've been planning to offer you something similar."

He waited for Keigo to decide how to take that.

"Like... a contract?" Keigo asked, slowly. Tarou was pleased, though not surprised, that he seemed wary of the idea.

"Bonds between angels and humans are rarely that structured," he noted. "Your word and mine are sufficient."

"Why?"

A good response. Perhaps, one day, he would actually teach Keigo to curb his impulsiveness on the court, too, Tarou reflected. It wasn't as if the boy couldn't think things through when he wanted to. "When the factions of Heaven come into conflict," he explained, "a strong will is the most valuable weapon anyone can have. Rociel demonstrated that conclusively, as did the Messiah in opposition to him. And while the management, as Mad Hatter puts it, has changed, the nature of angels hasn't. Any more than the nature of humans."

"I see."

And he might very well see. Tarou hadn't chosen this human for nothing. "Think about it," he directed.

"I will," Keigo said, quietly.

When, not too long after, Keigo came to him with intent burning in his eyes, Tarou was hard pressed not to smile smugly.

Two Great Angels, three if you counted Gabriel, plus that interfering Principality, on Assiah, and he'd gotten his human first.

End

Over the Bone

Branch

Sanada and Belial spar a bit, verbally and otherwise. Drama, I-3

Genichirou had known it was dangerous to invite Hatter to spar with edged weapons. He had, however, been confident that Hatter wouldn't kill him, or even significantly damage him. He didn't normally like the idea of handicaps, but in the case of a demon he'd take it.

He was coming to the irritated realization that, even restraining himself, Hatter was fast enough to touch him.

After the third sting, he abandoned any thought of drawing Hatter out and lunged at full speed, hoping to at least gain a little maneuvering room. There was a sharp blow against the back of his ankle, and the next thing he knew Genichirou was staring at the ceiling with Hatter leaning over him.

Grinning.

Genichirou glared, trying to calm his breathing.

"Thank you, Sanada-kun, that was delightful," Hatter purred.

Genichirou opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He was not rising to the bait this time. Hatter took his wrist and lifted his arm to examine the shallow slice along it.

"One is actually moderately impressed," he added. "One didn't think you would be able to avoid so many of these." He laughed at Genichirou's skeptical look. "It's true. Actually," a more considering expression, "one hadn't intended to cut quite so deeply." Hatter bent his head to Genichirou's arm and licked the blood from his skin.

Genichirou stopped breathing entirely.

It wasn't Hatter toying with him that alarmed him; he'd had time to get used to that. It was the shiver that the gesture dragged through him. When Hatter knelt over his hips and leaned down to the cut across his chest, Genichirou shuddered under the warm touch. His thoughts scattered, even as he tried to come to grips with Hatter's action, and his own reaction.

When Hatter's tongue moved over the cut on his collar bone, when Hatter's lips closed over it to suck gently, Genichirou finally grabbed Hatter's shoulders and pushed him away.

"Hatter," he gasped, "stop!"

Hatter's eyes were dazed for a moment before their usual mocking light returned. "Of course," he murmured and stood. After a moment, Genichirou accepted the hand Hatter held out to help him up.

"Don't tell me demons get drunk on blood or something weird like that," Genichirou said, suspiciously.

Hatter laughed. "Not exactly. Though blood can be a carrier for some... intoxicating things." He traced two fingers to either side of the cut on Genichirou's collar bone. "That will leave a mark."

Genichirou gave him a disgruntled look. "That's something you like doing, isn't it?" he asked, a bit snidely.

"Only sometimes." Hatter stepped back against the wall and faded into the shadows. Genichirou snorted, and started to collect his things.

It wasn't until much later that evening that he noticed the two shallower cuts were completely healed.

End

Compassion

Branch

Mizuki has to deal with Tsuzuki's unexpected perception. Drama, I-3

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Tsuzuki said, nibbling one fingernail in concentration.

Hajime tried not to laugh at the rather cute picture the man made.

"Because St. Rudolph isn't participating in the tournaments any more, all the third years are supposed to retire from the team and pay attention to studying for exams."

Hajime nodded agreeably.

"And you and Akazawa-kun are not doing this because you feel like you have an obligation to be good examples to Fuji-kun for as long as you really should have been able to had fate not conspired against you in inexplicable ways," Tsuzuki recited more or less verbatim from Hajime's explanations.

"That's right." Hajime crossed an ankle over his knee, watching Yuuta practicing doubles with Kaneda. Kaneda's natural flair for it just about made up for Yuuta's stubbornness.

"And how is breaking the rules a good example to him?"

Hajime snorted. Tsuzuki had a talent for asking questions like that while sounding honestly curious. "Knowing when to abide by the rules and when to bend them is a valuable lesson," he noted. "Not that Yuuta-kun hasn't learned it very well already," he added, casting a look of possessive pride on the new team captain.

Tsuzuki gave him a cheerful smile. "For someone who hates surprises as much as you do, Mizuki-kun, you have an odd taste for unpredictable people."

Clearly, Tsuzuki had heard the whole story of St. Rudolph's matches against Seigaku, and Yuuta's insubordination. Hajime leaned back on the bench, brows raised. "I like a challenge as much as the next person, Tsuzuki-san," he murmured.

Tsuzuki directed his smile out over the courts. "Why tennis?" he asked after a minute.

Hajime was genuinely surprised, now. "What do you mean?"

Tsuzuki blinked at him innocently. "Well, I would have expected you to chose debate or something like that. Politics, perhaps. It seems a lot closer to what you actually like doing."

Hajime looked away, reminded sharply of Tsuzuki's disconcerting perceptiveness. "Where's the fun in meeting people head-on, when they know where you're coming from?" he asked, lightly.

Tsuzuki's voice gentled, and he rested a steady hand on Hajime's shoulder. "Just because you change your mind that doesn't mean your life is out of control, Mizuki-kun. You can always choose again, if your first choice isn't what you hoped for."

That cut too close to the bone. "Which is, of course, why you stay in your current occupation when you dislike it so much," Hajime shot back.

"That's because he's a masochist," Kurosaki said, briskly, from behind them. "Tsuzuki," he added, as if Hajime wasn't there, "you have a call from Watari-san."

Tsuzuki winced, suddenly looking far less piercing and far more hangdog. "I'm on assignment, he can't test anything on me while I'm on assignment," he muttered, sounding more forlorn than hopeful. He reached for the phone, and paused, glancing back and forth between the distinctly cool look Kurosaki was giving Hajime and Hajime's amused smile.

Hajime folded his hands ostentatiously. "A challenge, I said, Tsuzuki-san," he repeated, smoothly.

The suppressed laugh in Tsuzuki's eyes said he understood the implied comment on Kurosaki's straightforward nature. Tsuzuki's hand brushed over Hajime's hair as he stood. "Trust yourself. You don't need to control everything to win," he said, softly.

Hajime bit his lip, trying not to react to the sudden shiver of warmth in his chest. He heard Kurosaki sigh as Tsuzuki took the phone and they moved away.

"I swear, you'd pick up every stray we met if I let you..."

Hajime settled comfortably into his irritation at the insult. It was much easier than dwelling on the ache of Tsuzuki's unexpected sympathy.

End

The Dotted Line

Branch

Belial gets a tennis team. Humor, I-2

"Absolutely no interfering in the games in any way, shape or form, or the whole deal's off," Sanada declared, firmly.

Belial leaned hir chin in hir hand. "Doesn't that conflict with the clause about injury-proofing, though?"

"Injury repair, not prevention, Hatter," Yanagi put in. "I have to agree on this; what happens on the court happens. The aftermath is the only place we can, in conscience, accept your help."

"One doesn't believe one has ever contracted with anyone particularly worried about conscience before," Belial observed. "It makes things far more complicated. Are you sure you can't do without it?"

"Belial." Seiichi's hands fell on hir shoulders. "Don't think I'm going to let you pretend like that while you're negotiating with my team." He paused, hands tightening. "For everyone's sake."

Belial declined to answer directly and heaved a put-upon sigh. "Fine, fine. What's next, then?"

"I don't suppose we could do a kind of floating assistance clause?" Masaharu asked with a dreamy look. "A monthly mayhem quota? We could collaborate."

"No!" Sanada, Jackal and Seiichi said at the same time.

Belial laughed. "Why don't we keep that a personal matter between friends?" se suggested, patting Masaharu's hand.

"Demons have friends?" Kirihara asked. He twisted around in his chair, crossing and uncrossing his arms.

Belial eyed his fidgeting. "Yes they do. Sometimes. And, in answer to your real question, when it happens it supercedes all sorts of contracts, including any previous allegiance of your theoretical possessor. You're Seiichi's first and one's own second, and, believe one, that will protect you from anyone else."

Kirihara snorted, trying not to look reassured. "So what happens with this," he jerked his chin at the contract, "when we play against each other?" His eyes fixed on Seiichi and Sanada.

"Another good argument for Hatter-san to stay out of it on the court itself," Jackal said, reasonably. "And you have to admit, Akaya, it will be a relief to have this kind of support. If we don't have to spend all our time worrying about getting a sponsor, or washing out from some stupid little injury, we can concentrate on playing our best. Against anyone."

Belial smiled fondly on Jackal. He was the serious type who was normally exasperated by hir, but they could appreciate each other's practicality.

"As if I would need help," Marui put in blowing a complacent bubble.

Belial raised hir brows. "Might one ask why you're taking part in these negotiations, then?" Se actually was rather curious. Marui and Jackal were the two se had least expected to agree, and while se had a better understanding of Jackal's motives, by now, Marui's were still rather a mystery.

Marui shrugged. "It's the team. The team, you understand? I think this is the only time we'll ever find anything this close. This important. I don't like the thought of leaving that behind."

Belial was silent as the eight mortals smiled or stilled or reached out to one another, each according to his way. Se fought down a shiver as Seiichi turned his eyes on hir, folding hir into that closeness as well.

"Very well. If that's everything, then I'll be around later to seal the contract with each individual." Se ignored the sudden quirk of Seiichi's lips as he gathered his people up and herded them out.

"I'm impressed you came up with such a detailed document, Yanagi," Yagyuu mentioned, as the team left. "It covered some contingencies I hadn't thought of."

"Oh, it's based on a standard manager's contract," Yanagi said, as the door closed.

Belial leaned back in hir chair and laughed. Eternity was looking more interesting every day.

End

Sealed With A Kiss

Branch

The seal of the contract. Drama, I-3

Seiichi remembered when Belial had set the seal of their contract.

Marui leaned back against the sheets.

Masaharu gazed up into blue eyes that burned in the darkness.

Akaya bit his lip as Hatter's fingers brushed over his cheek.

Hiroshi was silent as Hatter delicately moved his shirt aside.

Renji gasped at the coolness of Hatter's hands sliding cloth down from his hip.

Jackal took a deep breath at Hatter's teasing whisper to relax.

Genichirou bit back a moan at the burning heat of lips against his skin.

And it was done.

End

The Morning After

Lys ap Adin

Some embarrassment over the seal. Drama, I-3

Yagyuu fell in step with Masaharu's slouch to school without saying a word; they walked for five minutes before Masaharu spoke. "So," he said. "That sealing thing."

"It wasn't what I was expecting," Yagyuu said, and anyone who didn't know him wouldn't have recognized that tone for what it was.

Masaharu stretched. "Wild," he said, and prodded Yagyuu. "So, where's yours?"

Yagyuu gestured, discreetly, towards his hip. "Yours?"

"The same," Masaharu said. "I wonder if that means something?"

"It involves Hatter," Yagyuu said, after a moment, "and you have to ask?"

"Good grief, Niou, I know I'm good-looking, but didn't your mother ever teach you it's not polite to stare?" Marui demanded, catching Niou staring again. "You're creeping me out."

"That's because Niou-sempai is, by nature, a creep," Kirihara declared, and dodged the swipe aimed at his head. "Although he is being creepier than usual."

"He's just trying to figure out where your seals are," Yagyuu murmured, bent over his shoes.

"Is that all?" Marui rolled his eyes, and popped a bubble in disgust. "It's right here." He pulled down the waistband of his shorts and displayed Belial's mark. "Happy now?"

"Mm," Niou said, non-committal, and turned to Kirihara. "What about you?"

"Same," Kirihara said, "but don't expect me to go showing it off."

"Prude," Marui said, good-naturedly. He grinned at Jackal, who'd kept quiet so far. "So, since we're playing show and tell..."

Jackal rolled his eyes. "Same as the rest of you," he said. "Now are you happy, Niou?"

"Mostly," he said, and shrugged..

"Mostly?" Jackal echoed, and Marui felt he was right to sound worried.

"If you're planning on asking the three of them where their seals are, let me know when you're doing it," Kirihara said. "I want to make sure I'm nowhere in sight when Sanada-san goes off."

Niou grinned. "I'm not that crazy," he said, and everyone seemed to relax after that declaration, only to tense up when he added, "Doesn't mean I can't draw my own conclusions, though," and strolled out of the clubhouse.

Genichirou, Renji noted, seemed unwilling to look anybody in the face—no, that wasn't strictly accurate. There were specific people he wasn't looking in the face, and all of them had just signed the same contract. So. Post-commitment jitters, or something else? Renji pondered the question as Seiichi sent the doubles pairs out to the far tennis courts to practice, which was an excellent decision, given the gleam in Niou's eyes.

If he wasn't looking anybody in the face, Genichirou was definitely avoiding looking at Seiichi at all. Considering what had just changed... Renji sidled over to Seiichi while Genichirou was assigning drills to the non-Regulars. "I take it you didn't warn him about Hatter's seal, either?" he asked, quietly.

"No," Seiichi said. He gave a little shrug. "I thought the two of you wouldn't need warning," he added, "since you'd already seen one of hir seals."

"I don't believe it was the seal so much as the sealing," Renji said. "The process was..." He stopped, and shrugged. "Intense."

"Yes, it was," Seiichi agreed, but stopped before adding anything else, looking to Genichirou. "This could be a problem."

Renji was about to ask what he meant when Belial slid out of Genichirou's own shadow and spoke.

Renji and Seiichi were discussing him; he didn't have to turn around and check to know that much. Genichirou growled and the freshmen he'd been lecturing trembled and scattered to practice.

"One is curious as to why you are so irritable today," Hatter purred into his ear.

Genichirou couldn't quite keep from starting, but he did manage to stop the yelp. "Hatter-san," he said, and it wasn't retreating to move away in an effort to reclaim his personal space.

"Are you perhaps afraid that one will no longer respect you?" Belial continued in that light, mocking tone that set his teeth on edge, still entirely too close.

"Belial." There was steel in Seiichi's voice, and Genichirou's spine straightened of its own as he whipped around to see what it was that Seiichi wanted. Beside him, Belial had responded in much the same fashion, which was oddly reassuring.

Seiichi was—yes, stalking, there was no other way to describe that prowl or that particular glint in his eyes—toward them, Renji trailing behind. "We've discussed this habit of yours before," he said.

"Have we?" Belial asked, recovering his equanimity and batting his eyes. "One must have forgotten."

"There's no need to provoke him so much," Seiichi continued, still with that inflexible tone. "We are yours now."

"One hasn't forgotten," Belial murmured, his eyes hooded.

"Hurt yourself on someone else, then," Seiichi said, unmistakably commanding. He waited a beat, and then relented somewhat. "Why go to so much work to earn us, only to push us away?"

Seiichi had just spread the rest of the pieces out so neatly that Genichirou felt a bit of a fool for not having seen them sooner. From the way Belial had just gone still beside him, he did not care for this exposure. Genichirou considered what was needful, and chose his response carefully. "Seiichi," he said, keeping Belial in the corner of his eye, "if I can endure Akaya at his most insufferable, surely I can handle Hatter-san." It was just as well that their prickly kouhai was out of earshot; he would not have appreciated the comparison.

"Are you so sure you can handle one?" Belial asked, and trailed a hand down the side of Genichirou's neck, over the pulse that was beating fast enough to betray that Genichirou knew that as teasing as he had intended his comment to sound, and as detached as Belial sounded, this was serious. His hand came to rest over the other mark he'd left, pressing into sensitive skin.

Genichirou turned his head to look Belial in the eye. "Are you so sure I would have agreed to anything this important without being completely certain of myself?" he asked, and reached up to cover Belial's hand with his own.

Belial held his gaze for a long moment before stepping back, drawing his hand away from Genichirou's shoulder. "One finds oneself inclined to take you at your word." It must have cost him a great deal to say, because he stepped immediately into the shadow of a bench and disappeared.

"What do you suppose that is?" Bunta asked, with a nod in the direction of the Trio and Belial.

Yagyuu looked. After a moment, he said, "Settling frazzled nerves, I expect."

Jackal blinked. "What, Sanada's?"

Yagyuu pushed his glasses a little further up the bridge of his nose. "Possibly."

"Huh." Masaharu thought this over, and nodded. "I suppose I'll have to hold off on teasing him, then."

"How remarkably benevolent of you," Jackal murmured.

Masaharu grinned at him. "Is it? I was just thinking that I'll have all of eternity to play with, so a few days now won't make any difference in the long run."

Yagyuu huffed in amusement. "That's one way to look at it," he said, as Belial stepped away from Sanada and disappeared, whatever confrontation it was they had been having at an end. He looked at the other four. "Come on, let's play."

Seiichi moved up to stand beside Genichirou. "Thank you," he said, as Renji joined them.

"For what?" Genichirou asked. "Telling the truth?"

Seiichi smiled. "No, for being you."

Genichirou snorted. "If you like," he said. A thought occurred to him. "Did you even think about warning us?" he asked.

Seiichi's smile was a touch too innocent. "What, and spoil my fun? Don't be silly."

"I thought so." Genichirou couldn't manage to put any heat into the glare. "Is there anything else you've forgotten to mention?"

Seiichi shrugged. "Nothing that you don't already know by now."

"Is Hatter-san likely to need special handling?" Renji asked. "More so than usual?"

"For a bit, possibly," Seiichi said. "Until se gets used to the thought of having hir own tennis team." Upon reflection, he added, "We're getting there, I think."

"Good," Genichirou grunted. "Because enduring it doesn't mean I have to like being provoked."

"Don't worry," Seiichi said. "It shouldn't take Hatter more than a decade to work this out of hir system." He kept a straight face for as long as it took Genichirou to choke, and then chuckled. "Got you."

Genichirou sighed. "I'm doomed, aren't I?"

"Probably you are," Akaya informed him, "but can we have practice now and talk about our immortal souls later?" He shifted from foot to foot, swinging his racquet. "I've tried to be patient, but really..."

"Then come play a set with me," Genichirou invited him.

"Glad to," Akaya said, with a dark look. "I heard that insufferable thing, you know."

Genichirou just laughed, and headed for the court.

Baiting

Branch

Rikkai encounters shinigami at Nationals. Drama, I-3

The day was clear and hot, good weather for their first match at Nationals. Renji supposed it was cosmic parity for something else to go wrong. He sighed when he saw Hatter's eyes brighten, as the team made their way toward their assigned court. What had caught her attention this time? He looked in the direction she was starting to edge in and suppressed the urge to put a hand to his forehead. Of all the people for Hatter to decide to tease, of course it would have to be Fuji Yuuta, and, by extension, Fuji Shuusuke.

His concerns about stirring up the opposition unnecessarily were preempted rather abruptly, though, when two people materialized between Hatter and the increasingly nervous younger Fuji. Not that long ago, Renji mused, that would have startled him. "People you know, Hatter?" he asked, examining the newcomers. A young man, probably not too much older than they were, with very sharp green eyes and an older man with messy dark hair who probably looked sweet most of the time.

At the moment he looked both tense and angry.

Not that this appeared to concern Hatter.

"Ah," she tapped a fingertip against her lips for a moment, "Tsuzuki isn't it? How nice to finally meet you in person." She eyed the St. Rudolph contingent behind him and shrugged. "You can have them, if you like. It's not as if one doesn't have one's hands pleasantly full."

Tsuzuki now looked like he didn't quite believe he'd just heard the very clear sexual innuendo. His friend looked highly suspicious. And St. Rudolph's Fuji looked like he was considering making a run for it. Renji couldn't quite blame any of them. Hatter did often take people like that.

"Besides," Hatter added, thoughtfully, "One did say one wouldn't interfere with the games, and destroying all the courts probably counts." She glanced at Genichirou, brows raised, and got a glare. "One thought so. Which is the most likely outcome if we got into a tiff over the boys."

"That hasn't stopped any other demon I've met," Tsuzuki said, slowly, easing back just slightly anyway. Someone who would rather talk than fight, Renji noted.

Hatter sniffed. "One outranks you considerably, young one, so there's no need to kill you for that consideration. Equally, one has no intention of forgetting the strength of your bloodline. Sargatanas was an idiot and got exactly what he deserved. One laughed for days when one heard." A thin smile curled her lips. "Astaroth simply isn't having a good century. His lesser demons still, clearly, haven't learned anything from their fellow's destruction; no forethought among them at all. Please do feel free to kill them off. You can think of it as your contribution to the good of all our kind, if you like." She adjusted her hat with eloquent disdain.

Renji's attention sharpened as Tsuzuki and his friend both stiffened. "I'm not a demon," Tsuzuki said, low and hard. His friend took a step closer to him.

Hatter's expression turned tolerant, the way Renji had seen it when Kurai was around. "Far be it from one to interfere in someone else's denial. Take your time."

Renji was genuinely surprised that it was Mizuki who stepped forward and fixed Hatter with a sharp gaze. "Please don't think I don't appreciate the artistry of your goading," Mizuki drawled, "but is it not the case that celestials, just as much as humans, can choose their own paths whether for good or evil?"

Hatter laid a slim hand over her eyes. "Oh, tell one you're not thinking that we could only have Fallen through free will because God isn't enough of a bastard to have doomed a third of His own angels to that fate?"

"Oh, hardly," Mizuki assured her with wide, ingenuous eyes. "According to Raphael-san, He was exactly that much of a bastard."

Hatter took her hand away and tipped her head. "You've done your research. An advance on most demons. One doesn't suppose..." She trailed off, invitingly.

Tsuzuki looked indignant, while his friend looked suddenly thoughtful. The younger one must be rather territorial, Renji decided. Both Akazawa and Yuuta looked distinctly unsurprised.

"Thank you, but I think not," Mizuki replied, charmingly regretful. He was clearly enjoying himself, and Renji was starting to be amused. Then the dark eyes narrowed. "The point is that, while you may entertain yourself by implying otherwise, Tsuzuki-san's nature no more dictates his actions than mine does."

Tsuzuki blinked. And relaxed. For someone as powerful as Hatter implied he was, Renji mused, Tsuzuki didn't seem to have put much thought into his own strength or the presumed causes of it.

Given that, Renji wasn't entirely surprised that it was Seiichi who answered Mizuki. "Yes and no."

Hatter looked around, brow raised. "Seiichi, one hadn't thought you enjoyed these kind of games."

"I don't," Seiichi said, dryly, laying a hand on Hatter's shoulder, "so hush for a moment, Belial."

Renji had to stifle a laugh. That casual command earned some stunned expressions on the other side.

Seiichi took no notice, focused on Tsuzuki as if they were the only two present. "Having a nature beyond the ordinary doesn't make for an easy life," he said. "But denying your nature won't do you any service in the long run. The only way to deal with it is to claim it, to declare it. And to fight for it."

The words passed through the Rikkai team like a tangible thread, drawing them together. The young man's green eyes widened and he rocked back from them as if he could see it happening. Tsuzuki shook his head, though.

"No," he whispered.

There was kindness in Seiichi's gaze, but no mercy. "Then it will destroy you, and likely those close to you."

Tsuzuki flinched, and his friend shook off his surprise and stepped in front of him, eyes blazing. "Enough!" he bit out, slashing his hand down. His mouth, Renji noted, was tight, as if with pain.

Tsuzuki started. "Hisoka," he said, hesitantly.

"Be quiet," Hisoka snapped at him, "I'm fine. You're not." He turned his glare back on Seiichi. "You will stop," he stated.

"Yes," Seiichi agreed after a long, considering moment. "You should think about it though." He turned Hatter around with him and gestured to the team. "Come."

"You let him go pretty easily," Genichirou observed, as they walked on.

"Mm." Seiichi glanced over. "Renji? What did you think of Hisoka?"

"I think he could tell what people were feeling," Renji said. "His responses were too strong for someone just picking up on body language." That, too, was an answer that might not have occurred to him a short time ago.

Seiichi nodded. "He really wouldn't have let me push any further. And the seed is planted, now."

"For your second career, perhaps you should consider becoming a therapist," Hatter jibed, probably disgruntled that her fun had been cut short.

"If he's going to come to us eventually," Seiichi returned, coolly, "he should come well disposed and not insane, yes?"

Hatter's stride hitched, and she looked at him with suddenly wide eyes. Renji smiled. Every now and then Seiichi could still surprise Hatter by the unthinking ease with which he acted in her support.

"So what, precisely, were they?" he asked, hoping to distract her. Hatter liked it when Seiichi showed his cold streak, and left to her own devices tended to express her appreciation in ways that caused bystanders to stop and stare. It didn't help, he reflected, that Seiichi encouraged her if he was in a sharp enough mood.

Hatter eyed him sidelong, but consented to be distracted. "Shinigami. You asked once," she added to Genichirou, "what usually happens to human souls. Those two are part of the answer. Most souls pass through either Uriel's hands or Enma's offices and go on, but some do stay to be employed."

"They used to be human, then?" Yagyuu put in. "Well, mostly," he amended.

"Yes. Humans with strong spirits, of course, or they wouldn't have their current jobs." Hatter paused and looked thoughtful. "Seiichi," she said, slowly.

Seiichi raised his brows.

"How would you like to learn magic?" Hatter asked with a wicked smile.

Renji wasn't the only one blinking at that.

"Um," Seiichi started.

Hatter waved a hand airily. "After Nationals, naturally."

A laugh ran through the team. "Naturally," Seiichi agreed, smiling as they reached the court. "I'll think about it."

End

Answers

Branch

Sakaki meets an old acquaintance. Drama, I-3

He was, Keigo reflected, getting better at spotting the angels. It was something in the way they held themselves, apart from any mortal excitement around them. At a place as excited as the courts hosting Nationals, they stood out. The one that seemed to have caught Kantoku's attention today, though, was a bit different from the usual run.

For one thing, he wasn't making Kantoku's shoulders fall in the especially straight line that meant their coach didn't get along with him. That was unprecedented, to date.

For another, he looked different. Tall and solid and dark, instead of slim and fair. All of this made Keigo curious, so when their coach turned aside toward the new angel, Keigo waved the rest of the team on and followed. Sakaki-san didn't send him back, and that was as good as permission. Still, Keigo decided it would be tactful to stay unobtrusive. He picked one of the trees lining the walk to lean against while he watched.

Sakaki-san stopped arm's length away from the, really, very tall angel and bowed, expressionless. "Uriel-sama."

Keigo blinked. He'd never heard Sakaki-san offer that kind of respect to anyone.

"Israfel," Uriel said, softly. "It's good to see you again."

Sakaki-san gave him an extremely level look, the kind of look he gave a Regular who had just lost inexcusably. It didn't exactly match with the way he'd greeted this angel, and Keigo started a mental list of questions to ask his mentor later; he could usually get answers if he picked the right time. Uriel, though didn't seem too taken aback by the expression, and only sighed.

"Arariel had a few things to say to me about my absence, and those injured by it. She mentioned you."

Sakaki-san sniffed. "Did she mention herself? I won't say I was pleased to have the majority of my power sealed, but it was better to come to Assiah and work than to stay in Heaven and deal with the likes of Sevothtarte." There was little variation in his deep, even voice, but Keigo watched his eyes and they were narrower than usual. "Humans and angels should not be apart. We were created for each other. I had, at least, the satisfaction of saying so to those who had forgotten their purpose."

Uriel moved a step closer, looking down at Sakaki-san soberly. "You have a right to your anger with them; and with me as well. But you don't regret your exile, then?"

Sakaki lifted one brow. "I occasionally regretted the company; I was initially directed to Aziraphale while I acquainted myself with the mortal world. But no. I have not regretted my time here."

Uriel turned his eyes on Keigo, and Keigo was startled at how close he came to drowning in them. Dark eyes that didn't challenge the way Raphael's or Michael's did, or mock the way Mad Hatter's did. Perhaps he didn't have to ask why Sakaki-san respected this stern, quiet person.

"From the binding between you and this young man, it seems you're thinking of returning soon?" Uriel asked, not looking away from Keigo.

"I am."

Keigo didn't have to be looking to tell that Sakaki-san had slow, hot fire behind his eyes now. It was the way he got when something he wanted was in sight.

Uriel seemed to hear it too, or heard something that made his lips quirk. "Well, then." He turned back to Sakaki-san. "It won't do for you to return with less than all your power." He spread one long hand against Sakaki-san's chest, and wings unfolded behind him, the color of last year's leaves. Keigo found his fingers itching to run though that rich darkness; bad manners, he reminded himself.

Sakaki-san's eyes widened and his breath stopped as something crackled around him, something Keigo thought he might have seen had he looked just from the corner of his eye. When Sakaki-san's wings spread in answer, Keigo saw the something far more clearly. It wrapped around the angel who had taught him music and tennis and excellence, like heat haze that had coaxed a rainbow down to play with it.

"If you return to our order," Uriel said, as Keigo blinked away formless after images, "return as yourself, Israfel." He folded his wings and nodded a farewell that encompassed Keigo.

"Uriel-sama," Sakaki-san called. When Uriel paused and looked back, he bowed deeply. "Thank you."

Uriel smiled.

"So," Keigo mused as he followed his coach back toward their team, "you aren't actually a Principality."

"Not any more."

Keigo didn't think it was his imagination that Kantoku sounded smug.

"What is your Order, then?" he asked, when it was clear the answer wasn't going to be volunteered.

"The Dominions."

Keigo recalled what his research had had to say about this, and smiled. "Those who judge and order. I suppose I might have guessed."

Kantoku slanted a glance at him. "You have something to say, Atobe-kun?"

"Not at all," Keigo replied, airily.

The future, he decided, was looking better all the time.

End

Practicalities

Branch

Hisoka gets help from an unexpected source. Drama, I-3

Hajime had figured out some time ago that Kurosaki could feel what other people felt, especially if they felt it strongly. It was equally obvious, to anyone who watched carefully, that Kurosaki didn't have perfect control of this 'gift'. Accordingly, Hajime had dropped a few hints about Nationals, how many people showed up, how excited everyone got about the matches. A few neighborly cautions.

He was starting to think both his team's self-appointed guardians had completely missed them.

Kurosaki had been fine until the matches started heating up. Now he was a bit glassy-eyed, and swayed every time the crowd shouted. It probably didn't help, Hajime admitted, that they were currently watching Fudoumine playing Hyoutei. Being in the vicinity of Atobe's club, once he'd finished winding them up, was probably like getting hit over the head with a hammer, for Kurosaki.

Hajime watched with scientific curiosity to see how long Kurosaki would hold out before he fell over.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki murmured, putting a hand on Kurosaki's shoulder.

Well, yes, that had been the other major possibility.

Kurosaki bit his lip, hard. "I'm not... it's..."

Now even Yuuta and Akazawa were noticing that Kurosaki was having problems. Hajime considered Kurosaki's prickly pride and whether Tsuzuki would hold off any expressions of concern because of it. Extremely unlikely, he decided.

Sure enough, Tsuzuki ignored the people around them and actually pulled Kurosaki into his arms. Hajime was a bit surprised that Kurosaki only muttered a protest and didn't pull away. In fact, he even let Tsuzuki press his his head down to Tsuzuki's shoulder and some of the piano-wire tension eased out of him. Of course, now he was shuddering intermittently, but that was all right; Tsuzuki had a good grip.

Hajime adjusted a few of the assumed values in his mental equation of Tsuzuki's and Kurosaki's relationship. Apparently the threshold of distress for Kurosaki to accept Tsuzuki's help or protection was a good deal lower than Kurosaki's snapping and growling suggested. Kurosaki could, it seemed, be practical about some things after all.

"Does he need to be away from here?" Akazawa asked. Another one, Hajime reflected affectionately, with a broader practical streak than the casual watcher might expect. It was a good thing that Hajime wasn't a casual watcher.

"I'm fine," Kurosaki said, a bit muffled. And then flinched as Tachibana drove the ball past Atobe and every spectator roared. His fingers clenched, white knuckled, in Tsuzuki's shirt. Hajime shook his head. Kurosaki could give Yuuta lessons in stubborn, and that was saying something.

"Excuse me," interjected a new voice. "Here."

When a complete stranger closed his hands firmly on Kurosaki's shoulders, Hajime braced for the explosion. He'd never met anyone as fanatical about his personal space as Kurosaki.

The explosion didn't come. Instead Kurosaki slumped against Tsuzuki, suddenly breathing easily again. And Tsuzuki, who had been reaching for a pocket, and presumably some of his ofuda, paused and looked down at his armful of exhausted partner, wide eyed. "Hisoka?"

"It's good," Kurosaki answered, sounding quite relieved, and pulled himself upright. "Who...?"

The newcomer smiled as Kurosaki turned to face him. "Raziel. Pleased to meet you. They are a little overwhelming, aren't they?"

Everyone stared at the bright wings folding back away. Hajime simply had to pause a moment to chuckle over the irony. Tsuzuki and Kurosaki were hanging around St. Rudolph to guard the mortals from undue celestial influence, and here it was an angel who managed to help Kurosaki when he was incapacitated by a crowd of mortals. Delicious.

Kurosaki blinked a few times. "How did you know...?"

Raziel shrugged casually. "I used to get like that, too, before Zaphkiel-sama taught me how to turn down the intensity." He looked down at the match with obvious curiosity. "And they're pretty intense about this."

"Are you associated with any of them?" Tsuzuki asked, cautiously.

Raziel laughed. "Oh, no. I just came to see what could possibly be keeping all of the Great Angels here. Not," he added in a dry tone, "that is isn't quieter with them gone."

"It was that demon that's hanging around Kanagawa, the one that dresses weirdly," Kurosaki supplied, clearly regaining some of his usual snap.

"Mad Hatter," Raziel sighed. "Of course it was." He paused and eyed Tsuzuki for a long moment. "Bet he had some fun with you."

Kurosaki bristled, and Raziel waved a hand. "I don't play those kind of head games, don't worry. But my organization keeps an ear out for rumors, and you've been a pretty popular rumor for a while now, Tsuzuki-san."

"Mad Hatter," Tsuzuki said tightly, "is operating under some mistaken assumptions, the first of which is that I have any interest in that part of my blood."

Raziel grinned. "Well, you could always join us instead."

Hajime had been wondering how long it would be before someone made that suggestion. He nudged Yuuta to keep quiet and folded his arms, watching.

"I could what?" Tsuzuki asked, after a second.

Raziel's mouth took on an exasperated twist. "Look, a third of the demons are angels, or at least were. And the rest are descended from angels. Either from the Grigori who took human lovers or from the children of Lilith and Lucifer. The angels like to make a lot of their perfect forms, but that's just labwork and killing off the 'imperfect' ones. The children of two angels have just as much chance of being altered by their power as the children of demons. Take it from me." The green eyes that had been cheerful were chill now. "It's all the same blood in the end."

Tsuzuki looked stunned, and Hajime put a hand over his eyes. "Do you honestly mean to say it never occurred to you, Tsuzuki-san?" he asked. Surely that particular connection was obvious to anyone who had the most passing acquaintance with angels and demons.

Tsuzuki just blinked at him. Hajime shook his head, ruefully.

"You're a menace to yourself," he informed Tsuzuki. "You need a manager. I'd volunteer out of humanitarian considerations if I weren't already committed."

Kurosaki glared fiery death at him and edged between Hajime and Tsuzuki. Hajime smiled his most urbane smile back and chalked up another success. What he'd told Tsuzuki was true; Kurosaki wasn't a challenge. He was, however, extremely entertaining.

Raziel seemed to be trying not to laugh. "You, on the other hand, would fit in very well somewhere else," he noted.

"Yes, I got the offer already," Hajime murmured.

"Mizuki-san," Yuuta said, at last, giving Hajime the look that meant he wasn't going to hang around in the cross-fire of one of Hajime's games for much longer.

Hajime patted his shoulder. "Of course, Yuuta-kun. Of course."

Raziel shook his head and turned back to Tsuzuki. "I'm not really joking, though. The Third War upset the basic structure of Heaven and Hell. I'm not truly surprised that the powerful ones who survived are looking for new sources of influence and power. To be honest, I expect a major influx of human souls fairly soon. If you want to come, the Anima Mundi will have a place for you and your partner; and your spirits, too. Think about it." He smiled at Kurosaki. "And good luck with your gift." He turned away, strolling on through the crowd.

Hajime looked after him. "I think recruitment must be some kind of genetic predisposition in celestials," he mused. "And Tsuzuki-san," he added, without looking back, "I think you, too, may need to choose again. Or, perhaps, choose for the first time. You won't have any peace until you do."

"Is that your analysis of the situation?" Tsuzuki asked, quietly.

"Gratis," Hajime agreed. "Consider it repayment."

Behind him, Tsuzuki chuckled, and Hajime was hard pressed not to start when his hair was ruffled. "Friends don't give help expecting a return, Hajime-kun."

Hajime sniffed skeptically and did his best to ignore the amusement in Akazawa's face and the suspiciously pleased smile on Yuuta's. Even Kurosaki wasn't glaring at him properly.

Honestly, some people just had no sense of propriety at all.

"Rumors," Tsuzuki muttered. "Information." He glanced at Kurosaki. "Maybe I will think about it."

End

Post-Game

Branch

Michael taunts Belial about winning and Lucifer gets involved. Drama, I-3

"Hah!" Michael took his opportunity, as the teams filtered past each other on the way out of the stadium, to taunt Mad Hatter. "Told you we'd kick your asses."

Ryouma stopped to watch, Fuji-senpai and his brother pausing beside him.

Hatter looked Michael up and down with a glint in his eye. "Technically, in fact, you have not."

"Hiding behind technicalities, now, huh?" Michael was obviously enjoying himself a great deal. Tachibana-san was rubbing his forehead, though his small smile said he wasn't as exasperated as he tried to sound.

"Michael-kun..."

"What?" Michael grinned. "It's true."

Hatter flexed fingers that were suddenly full of... playing cards? Ryouma frowned, puzzled. Yukimura-san, though, made a fast snatch for Hatter's wrist. Hatter gave him a deeply disappointed look.

Yukimura-san shook his head. "I'm pleased with the performance of my team, Hatter-san. If the results don't entirely satisfy us, then we'll have to make sure they come out differently next time. It's well."

Hatter sighed, and the cards vanished. Ryouma was really starting to wonder how he did that.

Michael's brows were nearly in his hair. "Never thought I'd see the day you had two masters, Hatter."

One corner of Hatter's mouth lifted in something that was not a smile, and he turned slowly back to face Michael.

"I wouldn't borrow too heavily on reflected glory if I were you, Michael," Lucifer said from behind the smirking angel.

Michael whirled with a snarl. "You looking for another fight right now?!"

Lucifer lifted a brow, the curl of his mouth far more amused than Hatter's had been. "If you like. Little brother." Four black wings swept open behind him.

Ryouma sighed. This would have been the perfect opportunity for Lucifer to take his advice. Oh, well.

Michael tensed up even more, and his wings unfolded, too. Fire licked around him.

"How... tense. Brothers, hm?" Fuji-senpai stirred beside him, looking speculatively at the two. His step forward, however, was checked by Yuuta's very tight grip on his arm.

"Aniki, you're not allowed to get yourself killed before I beat you at tennis," Yuuta stated, not taking his eyes off Lucifer and Michael. "So don't suggest what you're about to suggest, okay?"

"You have to admit, it works," Fuji-senpai said, reasonably. But also quietly.

It looked like they had noticed anyway. Lucifer looked from Fuji-senpai and Yuuta back to Michael, and laughed softly.

Michael's jaw dropped. "You... what... what the fuck?!"

"Hm." Lucifer took a long step towards him and cupped the side of Michael's face with one hand.

Michael vanished in a skyward flash of wings and sputtered swearing. Lucifer calmly folded his wings back in.

"Excellent suggestion," he murmured, glancing sidelong at Fuji-senpai. "I can see why you like this one, butterfly."

Hatter smirked, leaning against Yukimura-san, and Fuji-senpai looked like he was considering whether to take that as a compliment or not. Tachibana-san, on the other hand, had his arms crossed and was looking disapproving.

"That was unnecessary, Lucifer-san," he said, quietly.

Lucifer tilted his head, examining Fudoumine's captain. "Perhaps. But if he truly wanted to fight me again, he could have done it by now." He turned and walked away, merging into the crowd just as a blond man and woman fought their way out of it to congratulate Tachibana.

Ryouma shook his head, sparing a moment to be glad Seigaku's angel didn't have as many Issues as the rest of them. Maybe he should add some psychologists to The Plan.

End

The Dangers of Boredom

Lady Crysiana

Someone takes an interesting walk. Drama, I-2

He supposed that he should be doing something more active than walking down the street, but with all the confusion lately, he didn't see that he had many options other than to entertain himself. After all, Ryouma was busy testing his limits on his own somewhere, and all his other playmates seemed to be wandering off in the wake of the Nationals.

He noted, suddenly, that he'd walked further than he'd planned, and looked around to see what kind of place he'd arrived in. Turning his blue eyes to the gate next to him, he cocked his head thoughtfully at the rose seal on top of it. The place felt of magic and foreboding.

Which probably meant fun.

Given that the gate resisted a polite touch to it, he had to find a way around it. If the feel of the place were any indication, it seemed that he'd annoyed something by bypassing the gate entirely. It was really quite unreasonable, though, for there to be a barrier that no one meant someone to overcome. He made a pleased noise to himself and went on, only to discover an interesting tableau.

A girl with pink hair who couldn't be more human if she tried was talking quickly to a girl who was a not-human, and attended by a girl who might never have been human...or alive, for that matter. The third girl turned inquiring, unnatural green eyes on him, but he simply looked back, waiting for her to make the first move. She crossed over to him, watching him warily, and reached out a hand to him. She commented that the barrier had apparently been breeched in two realms, now.

He answered her that barriers rarely concerned those people whose specialty was to walk through walls.

The never-human replied that she did not need distractions, particularly at this time, but that invitations might be issued for a later date.

He shifted, acknowledging her right to ask him to leave, and turned to head back towards the gate. At the very least, he'd remember where this place was, as it seemed to be a most interesting development. Perhaps he could bring Ryouma next time.

The pink haired girl turned to look at the never-human, frowning quizzically. "Anthy?"

Anthy turned back to Utena with a slight smile. "It was a cat, Utena-sama. It must have gotten in from the street. It's going home now."

"A cat?"

"Just a cat." Anthy smiled softly at nothing, and turned back to Utena and Kurai.

Echo

Lys ap Adin

Kirihara has a problem with spillover. Humor, I-3

No one had told him that he was signing up for this.

Akaya stared at the ceiling above his bed, panting softly, as the ghosts of Sanada-san's touches burned across his skin, and shuddered at the overlapping echo of Yukimura-buchou's response.

On his hip, Hatter-san's mark burned.

Akaya moaned into his fist, trying to muffle the harsh sound, as he felt Sanada-san stroke Yukimura-buchou open. His free hand snaked down the front of his pajama pants and closed over his aching cock, and he bit down on a knuckle to keep from crying out. It was probably wrong to be touching himself like this, but when the two of them got like this, he just couldn't help it, and—

A low chuckle rolled out of the darkness above him. "That looks uncomfortable," someone purred. "Would you like one to assist you, perhaps?"

Akaya opened horrified eyes to see Hatter-san lounging in the air above his bed, smiling a wicked little smile. He froze.

Hatter-san's smile broadened a touch. "Ah," he noted, voice light and cheerful. "One sees that it has taken care of itself." He tipped his hat to Akaya, and disappeared as suddenly as he'd arrived.

Akaya groaned, and buried his flaming face in his pillow. He'd hope for the relief of dying of embarrassment, but that wouldn't be much help any more, not if he was going to have to spend eternity with Hatter-san.

At least Hatter-san was right; one problem had taken care of itself, at least for the night. He didn't so much as twitch while Yukimura-buchou and Sanada-san finished what they were doing, and their mutual pleasure vibrated through Hatter-san's seal.

Akaya grimaced into his pillow. Enough was enough. He'd have to work up his nerve to talk to... someone... about this. Surely there was something they could do about this echo effect.

Interesting Times

Branch

Kurikara and Michael hit it off. Drama with Humor, I-2

Kippei really did hope that at some point his days would become less interesting.

"So, lemme get this straight." The short, glowering redhead who had appeared on his courts put his hands on his hips. "You summoned me to deal with him?" He waved a hand at Michael, who was also glowering, dividing his attention between the newcomer and Lucifer.

Lucifer, having set his brother off in the first place, with no regard for visiting shinigami, lounged on the sidelines watching the show.

The younger of St. Rudolph's two guardians glared right back. "Who else were we supposed to summon for something like this, Kurikara?" he snapped. "Suzaku? She'd make it twice as bad. Souryuu? Give me a break!"

Kurikara paused judiciously. "Well, all right, you might have a point. Though it could be kind of funny watching the cold fish deal with this."

"Why are you in that form, though? You should have two wings in this world, not two legs," Tsuzuki cut hurriedly over whatever his partner had been drawing breath to say, for which Kippei was grateful; he hadn't noticed Kurosaki being very moderate in his temper at the best of times.

Kurikara gave him a withering look. "Between them," he gestured to Michael and Lucifer, "and your knee-jerk habit of casting wards at the first sign of trouble we're not precisely standing in Ningenkai, if you haven't noticed."

Tsuzuki blinked. "Oh."

Kurikara slapped a hand over eyes. "I'm surrounded by idiots," he growled, and then paused, glancing at Kurosaki. "Okay, not complete idiots, a complete idiot really would have called in Suzaku and the whole city would be burning." He eyed Michael, and the scorch marks from where he'd lost his temper at Lucifer's arrival. "You remind me of her, some."

While Michael was deciding how to take that, Lucifer stirred from his slouch against the fence. Kippei braced himself for a new round of explosions. Lucifer's tone, however, was academic when he spoke.

"Of course he does. We are, after all, reflections of each other in our different planes." Lucifer pushed himself upright, and paced across the court, not to Michael, but to Tsuzuki. Kippei settled back, watchfully. Lucifer took the man's chin in his fingers, holding him still for a searching examination. Just when Tsuzuki was starting to look tense and Kurosaki was looking as incendiary as Michael, Lucifer let him go. "You have some of the same heart as the Messiah," he said, "but your power is broken. A shame, that. If you were whole you might be able to free your little human with your own strength." He didn't wait for an answer before turning away, which, to Kippei's eye, was a good thing. Tsuzuki looked stunned.

"Enjoy yourself, Michael," Lucifer told his brother as he walked away from them all. "Try not to destroy the entire world."

Michael's jaw dropped, and Kippei sighed. He'd known it was coming.

"Try not... world... you... You asshole!" he howled at Lucifer's departing back. "I'm not the one who tried, even if it didn't work!" Fire was snapping around him again.

"Michael-kun," Kippei said, firmly.

Michael swung around. "What?!" Kippei waited, and after a moment Michael deflated a little, and the flames faded. "Sorry," he muttered.

Kippei, now that he wouldn't be singed, clasped Michael's shoulder, hoping to lend him some calm.

Kurikara gazed after Lucifer. "So," he remarked, "that was the Lord of Hell, hm?" He looked contemplative for a moment before he snorted. "What a jerk."

Michael stopped brooding and turned a brilliant smile on him. "I like him," he declared to the court at large. "What was your name again?"

"Kurikara, RyuuOu."

"Michael, Angel of Fire. Pleased to meet you."

Looking at the two of them grinning at each other over clasped hands Kippei couldn't help thinking, though he was careful not to say, that Lucifer really did know his brother pretty well. Michael probably would enjoy himself with Kurikara. He turned back to his other guests, only to find Kurosaki looking at him intently.

"Tsuzuki, I really don't think we should interfere here," Kurosaki said.

"We know this team is picking up some serious influences from Michael, though," Tsuzuki objected. "That's going to mess up the bookkeeping, and they always blame us for that."

"They'll live," Kurosaki replied bluntly. "I'll speak to Tatsumi-san, if there's trouble. As long as Tachibana-san is here, it will be all right. We shouldn't interfere."

"Oh?" Tsuzuki's glance at Kippei was suddenly more measuring. "Oh. Well, in that case..." He was interrupted by the increasing volume of Michael and Kurikara's discussion.

"...you got to toast him yourself?" Michael was exclaiming, gleefully. "Awesome! I was on the other side of the building when Setsuna and Ani-ue were killing God; I was so pissed off."

"It was great to finally get my claws around the Emperor's neck," Kurikara agreed, with a look that would have been beatific with fewer sharp teeth. "It was almost as much fun as pounding Souryuu into the ground like a tent peg when I finally got loose again."

Michael looked enthralled. Kippei sighed. He could have wished for Michael to acquire a calmer friend, but at least Kurikara seemed to have decent control of his temper. A muffled chuckle from Kurosaki brought his attention back to the shinigami. Kurosaki was regarding him with the kind of sympathetic amusement that suggested he had just heard Kippei volunteer to babysit his neighborhood's greatest brat.

"I wouldn't have your job if they paid me," Kurosaki said. "Good luck. Come on Tsuzuki."

"Um." Tsuzuki glanced at Kurikara.

Kurikara glanced back and waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah. So, Michael, I'm really not supposed to stay in this plane without anything to do, and as soon as Tsuzuki takes back his wards I'm going to be a really big flaming dragon anyway. Wanna come back to Gensoukai with me?"

"Sure," Michael agreed, and then paused and looked at Kippei.

Kippei smiled at him; Michael still needed a good deal of reassurance. "We'll still be around when you get back, Michael-kun."

Michael looked away and shrugged. "Of course."

Kurikara gave him a wry look, winked at Kippei, and threw an arm over Michael's shoulders. "Let's go then! Beer and stories!" They both vanished in a flicker of fire.

Kippei shook his head at the space where Michael had been. Someday, maybe, his life would stop being quite so strange, but he wasn't betting on it.

End

The Devil Went Down to Hyoutei

Lys ap Adin

Mad Hatter tempts Ohtori and tweaks Sakaki's nose. Drama with Humor, I-2

Someone had claimed the practice room ahead of him; the plaintive notes of a violin filtered dimly through the closed door, flaunting his reserved 5:15 to 6:15 slot in Ohtori Choutarou's face.

He suppressed an irritated sigh—didn't anyone ever look at the sign-up sheets?—and hoped that he'd be able to evict whoever-it-was with a minimum of fuss. He crossed his fingers, prayed for Minami-kun instead of Arisagawa-kun, and knocked.

Whoever-it-was kept playing.

Choutarou did sigh at that point. Arisagawa-kun, then, who could be counted on to put up a fight for the room. Choutarou set his jaw and steeled himself for battle, and opened the door. "Excuse me, but I have this room—oh." That wasn't Minami-kun, or even Arisagawa-kun, perched in the window.

Rikkai's demon lowered her bow and looked at him. "One wondered whether you had planned to stand out there all afternoon," she said.

"Erm." After Nationals had ended, Choutarou had hoped (albeit without much conviction) that the summer's unusual events might be over. So much for that.

Rikkai's demon, Kantoku had said, is dangerous, and nothing but trouble. Don't have any dealings with her if you can help it, and leave her strictly to me.

Choutarou edged himself backwards; the demon smiled, eyes bright and amused. "If you're looking for Kantoku," he said, "he's generally on the tennis courts at this time of day. I can go get him for you."

Rikkai's demon laughed. "If one had wanted Israfel, one would have found him already, Ohtori-kun," she said.

The demon knew his name. Choutarou contemplated the implications of that, and didn't like them. Shit. "Ah. In that case, I'll—"

"One hears that you play," the demon said, and lifted her chin, indicating the case that he carried. "Would you care to play with one for a bit, Ohtori-kun?"

Say no, his common sense whispered, but the oddity of the request tugged at his curiosity. "Why?"

The demon shrugged. "Does there need to be a reason?"

"If it's you—yes, I think there does." Choutarou was proud of how level his voice was. "And probably a catch, too."

The demon tapped her bow against her thigh. "Israfel's stamp is all over you," she said. Tap, tap, tap, went the bow, until she came to a decision. "One wishes to play, and one's own mentioned that you play well, should one wish someone to play with. Which one does." She tipped her head. "Play with me."

"I'm not prepared for a duet," Choutarou hedged, turning her request (command? not quite, not entirely) over and examining it from every angle. There didn't seem to be a catch.

She smiled like she knew that he was wavering. "Let one worry about that." She set her bow to the strings of her violin again and played a quick run of notes, light and teasing.

"I'm not warmed up," he said, and was faintly appalled at himself for giving in to his curiosity so easily.

Her eyes danced. "So warm up."

This was possibly the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. Choutarou found himself coming into the room and setting his case down, nonetheless, lifting out his violin and bow, checking them over and making small adjustments to them before tucking the instrument under his chin and beginning his warm-up exercises. He was conscious of the demon watching him all the while, and his fingers were clumsy at first. She didn't speak, nor did she offer to move from her perch on the windowsill to pounce on him and drag him off to perdition (or whatever it was demons did; Kantoku had been vague on the subject). He relaxed by increments and his fingers unstiffened, and soon he was running through scales in long, effortless ripples.

At first, he thought that the sound of the second violin was an echo, and wondered, puzzled, whether the soundproofing of the practice room had begun to fail, until a flicker of movement caught his eye. She had begun to play again, following his notes easily, until she caught him looking. Then she smiled and was off, fingers dancing over the strings, spilling out notes that were dark and wild and sweeter than he would have expected.

Choutarou found that he was veering away from the familiarity of his scales as the demon's melody coaxed him away from them, and chasing after the music that she played. The part of him that was standing back keeping a wary eye on the demon was impressed; he would not have thought it of himself, to be able to improvise like this, not with a partner he'd never practiced with (although perhaps that was less his skill and more the demon's). The rest of him leaned into the music, relaxing into the wildness of it the same way he fell into a good game of tennis, and he swayed with the beat as the demon's melody drove them on, faster and higher—

"What is the meaning of this?"

The question washed away the spell of the music like an ice-cold wave of water; Choutarou stopped short, mid-note, breathing hard and staring guiltily at Kantoku.

"One wondered when you would arrive, Israfel," the demon said, lightly, and hopped down from her perch. "One must congratulate you on having such a specimen under your wings." A hand settled on Choutarou's shoulder, hot through the fabric of his uniform.

Kantoku rocked on his heels, looking very much like he wanted to knock away that hand, or possibly tear out the demon's throat. "You have your own team, Hatter," he grated. "I won't let you steal from mine."

The demon (Hatter-san?) laughed. The sharpness of it ran down Choutarou's spine like ice. "If you say so," she murmured. "One finds oneself inclined to prove you wrong." Kantoku growled and took a step forward. Hatter-san laughed again, and held up her hand. "This one isn't inclined to be stolen, regrettably. One will respect that."

"See that you do," Kantoku said, as Hatter-san stepped away from Choutarou.

Hatter-san smiled. "Or else?" she asked, tone deceptively light. "Oh, very well." She tipped her hat to Choutarou. "Thank you for your time, Ohtori-kun. Do let one know if you ever feel like being borrowed." With that, she stepped into a shadow and disappeared.

Choutarou shook himself from his daze, and realized that Kantoku was swearing.

"That," he said, from between gritted teeth, "was a very foolish thing to do, Ohtori-kun."

"I—ah—yes, Kantoku. I suppose it was." Choutarou bowed. "Please accept my apologies."

"Stand up, boy," Kantoku said impatiently, coming to him and examining him, and frowning. "Did you make any agreements? Sign anything?"

Choutarou shook his head. "No."

Kantoku's frown deepened. "No? Nothing?"

"No, sir." Choutarou paused. "I think she just wanted to play."

"Belial never 'just' wants anything," Kantoku said, but he seemed to be calming down, and his tone was dry. "You would do well to remember that."

"Yes, sir," Choutarou agreed. He bit his lip. "I suppose I can't let myself be borrowed?"

Kantoku looked at him for a long moment. "Do you have time in your evenings for private lessons?"

Choutarou blinked, and ran through his schedule. "I could," he said, cautiously.

"Good. We'll begin tomorrow. Meet me in here at seven." Kantoku turned on his heel.

"...sir? Why?" Choutarou called after him.

Kantoku's smile was thin. "Hell doesn't have all the best musicians," he said, "but they certainly don't need any more. And Belial can keep her greedy hands off my team." With that, he left.

Choutarou took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That was interesting," he said, finally, to the silence, and took out his sheet music. He still had the room for fifteen minutes and there was no sense in wasting the time, demonic interruptions or no.

And he told himself, as he lifted his violin again and began to work on the tricky sequence at measure fifty-four, that he was only imagining the purr of Hatter-san's laughter.

end

Cooperative Ventures

Branch

One Kurosaki meets another Kurosaki. Humor, I-1

"Cousin." Hisoka planted his fists on his hips and glared up... and up... at the other young man. "Impossible."

The young man in question ran a harried hand through short, orange hair. "Not like it was my idea, shrimp. And if you're a shinigami," he added, as Hisoka reminded himself he wasn't allowed to kill humans whose time wasn't up, "why aren't you in uniform?"

Hisoka blinked. "Uniform? What uniform?" He frowned at Tsuzuki. "Was there a memo about getting uniforms, and you lost it again?"

"... younger sister... mother's name... well, yeah, if his dad was a... huh?" Tsuzuki looked up from the pad of paper he was attempting to chart the Kurosaki geneology on. "Um. I don't think so?" He smiled at Hisoka's maybe-cousin. "So you say you're a part-timer? That's unusual." He nibbled his lip. "For the living, anyway."

Ichigo fished out a small badge and tossed it over, still looking skeptical and out of temper.

Ok, maybe he was Hisoka's cousin after all.

"Oh!" Tsuzuki gave them both a bright, cheerful grin. "You're part of the other branch!"

"The other branch?" Hisoka and Ichigo chorused, and then glared at each other again.

"Different realms, under different rulers," Tsuzuki explained. "We do some of the same work, but recruitment is totally separate. We do cooperate every now and then, but there hasn't been a joint operation for... a couple centuries, I think. The Chief is probably the only one who remembers." He handed the badge back to Ichigo.

"At least he doesn't draw pictures," Ichigo muttered. He eyed them dubiously, but finally shrugged. "Whatever. Hey." He looked Hisoka up and down. "If you're from an old family, are you any good with a sword? They keep telling me I could use some extra practice..."

Hisoka smiled for the first time that afternoon.

End

Teacher

Branch

Yukimura meets his new magic teacher and said teacher's housemate. Humor, I-1

"So, tell me about these people."

It wasn't really that Seiichi didn't trust Belial. He did. He just also had a lively respect for his demon's sense of humor.

"They're the children of two of one's people. They became friends in college, one believes, when they met up and started comparing backgrounds." Belial supplied, rather airily. "Don't mind the one who smirks all the time. He's the son of an incubus; he can't help it."

Seiichi eyed Belial. "And the other one?"

"You'll like him," Belial predicted with confidence. "He's an excellent strategist, under all that cheery smiling. And he has... extensive experience as a teacher."

"I see," Seiichi murmured. There was obviously more to the story, but it looked like he'd have to find it out on his own.

When the apartment door opened to Belial's brisk rap, however, Seiichi had to admit that Belial had told him the most pertinent details.

The smiling man who answered the door seemed harmless enough, until they entered the livingroom and the other occupant noticed them. Or, more precisely, noticed Seiichi and rose with a suddenly brilliant grin. "Tenpou, you should have told me she'd be gorgeous," he chastised his friend, taking a long stride toward Seiichi.

Seiichi gave him a look fit to freeze liquid nitrogen solid. "What did you say?"

The man who'd introduced himself as Tenpou, still smiling, deftly caught his housemate by the collar and hauled him back out of Seiichi's reach. "He, Kenren. I'd think you, of all people, could tell the difference." He examined Seiichi, and the frost creeping uncontrollably over over the windows, and gestured discreetly.

Seiichi started as he abruptly felt... warmer.

"I can see why Hatter-sama wants someone to teach you about magic," Tenpou noted, thoughtfully, gently shoving a pouting Kenren back toward the couch.

Seiichi looked at Tenpou with a sharper eye. "I assure you, I'm very interested," he murmured.

Tenpou's smile gained an edge.

End

Logical Conclusion

Branch

If the seal broadcasts sensation... Porn with Drama, I-4

One

"Niou," Sanada said, carefully, "are you really suggesting an... orgy?"

Masaharu gave him a patient look. "Okay, let's go over this one more time. When Yukimura takes Hatter to bed, or Hatter jumps you what happens?"

Sanada looked uncomfortable. Yukimura looked sympathetic, though not repentant in the least.

"And it isn't any better when Hatter gets in a mood and decides on Masaharu instead," Hiroshi added.

"Well, not for you, no," Masaharu allowed. "I don't think Akaya gets it quite as bad then." Akaya, despite not being able to meet anyone's eyes, nodded. "Anyway, the point is, since we're all participating anyway, why not close up the gaps in the formation?"

Marui grinned. "I'm suddenly picturing this as a new play style."

Jackal closed his eyes. "I didn't hear that," he declared.

Yanagi frowned, thoughtfully. "Niou, do you really have any idea how much choreography it takes with more than two people?"

"Renji!" Sanada protested.

"Genichirou," Yanagi returned, "do you have any idea what it's like when you're with Hatter? I never suspected your definition of sparring was so broad."

Sanada flushed. Yes, indeed, Masaharu reflected, it didn't do to forget who The Master was.

Hatter tapped on the door and leaned through. "There you all are. One was wondering. Planning anything entertaining?"

Masaharu grinned. "Well..."

Two

Belial sank into the water until it was up to hir chin and wriggled hir toes happily. "Whose idea was it to stage our little experiment at a hot springs?" se asked, leaning hir head back against the edge.

"Mine," Niou supplied waving a dripping hand without opening his eyes.

"Remind one to thank you, later," Belial sighed.

The team filtered back into the room in ones and twos and settled down, remarkably spread out for such a relatively small space. Seiichi's mouth quirked, and when he noticed Marui and Akaya fidgeting nearly in unison he couldn't help a laugh.

"It really isn't as difficult as all that," he admonished, coming to stand in the center of the room. "Belial," he called, softly.

"Yes?" Belial answered behind him.

Seiichi turned, smiling, and lifted a hand to run through Belial's bright, wild hair. "I think it's up to us to start." He leaned in and kissed their demon, coaxing, and Belial swayed against him, opening hir mouth to nip at Seiichi's tongue. It was an easy, laughing, flirting kiss; a good place for them all to start, Seiichi thought.

Belial shivered abruptly, and Seiichi drew back to see Genichirou standing behind hir, sliding the robe off hir shoulders. Genichirou's own robe was already undone, and Belial made a small pleased noise as se leaned back against his body.

Watching Sanada-san's hands stroking down Hatter's arms was making Akaya's breath shorten. Though not nearly as much as when Yukimura-san stepped back from those two and turned toward him, holding out a hand.

"Akaya."

It wasn't a command, and that might have been what made Akaya shiver. For Yukimura-san to ask him...

Someone was standing beside him, and Akaya looked up to see Yanagi-senpai looking down with a calm, familiar smile. "It's all right," he said, and moved past Akaya to where Hatter was arched back in Sanada-san's arms, one hand tangled in Sanada-san's hair, dragging his head down to Hatter's. Yanagi-senpai's fingers brushing along Sanada-san's jaw lifted his head again, and they smiled at each other. Akaya blinked to see such a light expression on Sanada-san's face.

Hatter laughed and twined his arms around Yanagi-senpai's neck. Sanada-san leaned forward to kiss Yanagi-senpai slow and deep before stepping back. They made it look very simple. Akaya looked back at Yukimura-san and swallowed. Yukimura-san was waiting for him.

Akaya stood, just a little shakily, and stepped forward. Yukimura-san drew him close, folded his arms around Akaya, whispering against his ear, "It's all right."

Akaya nodded and tried to relax into Yukimura-san's fingers rubbing his neck, Yukimura-san's mouth covering his. The closer Yukimura-san held him, the easier it was, and when Akaya finally let himself sag against Yukimura-san's support he was lowered to the floor.

Trailing his fingers one last time down the curve of Hatter's bare spine, Sanada stepped back. Masaharu suppressed a sigh of disappointment, because those three together made a very, very nice picture. He might not have suppressed it quite enough, though, because Sanada spoke without turning.

"Niou."

Masaharu made an inquiring sound, lounging on an elbow, and Sanada turned his head.

"What do you like?"

Masaharu's eyes widened a bit, because there was a glint in Sanada's eyes that he'd never seen there before. A light of amusement where usually determination ruled alone. Something about that glint suggested Sanada might already know at least a few of the answers, and Masaharu grinned as he replied, "Power." He wasn't quite crazy enough to answer Danger.

Not yet.

Sanada's lips quirked, and when Masaharu accepted the hand he held down, Sanada pulled him up fast and hard against his body. Looked like Sanada did, indeed, already know about the danger part of the answer. Masaharu bared his teeth, wrapping one leg around Sanada's hip. This promised to be interesting.

Jackal scooted over to where Hatter was curled in Yanagi's arms, nibbling on his shoulder. "Care to trade?" he asked, smoothing a hand down her shoulder blade."I think Akaya needs Yanagi."

Hatter raised her head, and they all looked over at Akaya, lying spread out and moaning helplessly under Yukimura's hands and mouth.

"You may be right," Yanagi agreed. He pressed a kiss to Hatter's brow and brushed another across her lips. "Would you mind?"

"We wouldn't want Akaya to be scared off from participating next time," she purred, stretching.

Yanagi laughed, and crawled the couple feet over to Akaya, sliding a hand under his arched back and murmuring to him in a soothing tone. Hatter smiled and leaned, bonelessly, against Jackal. He gathered her close and dropped a soft kiss on her neck, stroking her hip and back slowly.

"You're all so gentle with one," she sighed.

"I can not be, if you'd rather," Jackal offered, curious. "Do you like it better rough?"

Her eyes were just a little distant, just a little blank, as she looked at him. "One doesn't know. One never really paid much attention to one's own pleasure."

Jackal sucked in a sharp breath and held her closer. "And you have to ask why we're gentle with you?" he asked, softly, against her blood colored hair.

"Mm." Hatter pressed against him.

Hiroshi leaned over Marui's shoulder. "You're starting to drool," he murmured.

"Am not," Marui contradicted, not looking away from Masaharu, who had laced one hand with Sanada's and was sucking on Sanada's fingers. Looking him in the eye the whole while, of course. Hiroshi's partner did have a talent for provocation.

"You like to watch?" he asked.

Marui leaned back against him, grinning. "I like a lot of things."

"Hm." Hiroshi reached down and folded Marui's robe aside, closing a hand between his legs.

"Ah!" Marui arched, legs spreading. "Damn, you move fast!"

"You prefer slower?" Hiroshi inquired, squeezing.

Marui groaned. "Of course not."

Yagyuu laughed. Marui was Marui, whether on the court or in bed.

Masaharu moaned when Sanada's fingers pressed into him. It was swallowed by Sanada's mouth.

He arched against, or maybe it was into, that rough hardness thrusting into him bit by rocking bit. Sanada's arm around him held him still.

He panted and shivered as Sanada's fingers worked him open, and felt Sanada's lips curve against his neck.

When Sanada's fingers slowed, Masaharu growled a little. No fair setting him up for something hard and then not following through. Following Sanada's gaze, though, he had a hard time blaming him, and, in fact, couldn't help a little smile of proud pleasure.

Hiroshi had Marui down on his knees and elbows, head bent to the floor, while Hiroshi's tongue flickered over Marui's entrance. Masaharu could tell when Hiroshi actually thrust in by the breathless way Marui moaned. It probably didn't hurt that Hiroshi's hand was between Marui's legs, pumping him slow and strong, but Masaharu knew from experience that Hiroshi's tongue was enough to hold anyone's attention all by itself.

Hiroshi also hadn't bothered to strip off Marui's robe, merely lifted the hem over Marui's hips. Hiroshi's own was hanging open. They made an incredibly wanton picture, and Masaharu rubbed his hips against Sanada's just watching. Sanada's fingers curled, inside him, and Masaharu gasped.

At first he thought the wash of tingling heat was just from that, but it kept going, and he looked again to see Marui coming in long, hard shudders under Hiroshi's hands. Sanada's hold on him tightened enough to drive his breath out, if he'd had any left.

Jackal caught his breath against Hatter's mouth, and she melted against him with a long, low sound of pleasure in her throat.

Akaya tensed, where he knelt over Yanagi-senpai's folded legs, felt Yanagi-senpai's hands on his back dig in, felt Yukimura-san's fingers inside him twist sharply, felt Yukimura-san's teeth close on his neck. He buried a trembling moan in Yanagi-san's shoulder as fire plucked at his nerves.

Hiroshi had never come just from bringing his partner off before, but he was very close to it now, as Marui relaxed in his hands.

"Wow," Marui mumbled, pillowing his cheek on his folded arms.

"Very," Masaharu agreed, flexing his body against Sanada's. "So what are you waiting for, Sanada?"

"An invitation," Sanada answered, showing his teeth.

Masaharu was moderately impressed with how quickly he found himself naked and on his knees, with his back pressed against Sanada's chest. "Don't get to be this aggressive very often?" he suggested, slyly.

"Depends on what mood everyone's in," Sanada returned, and nibbled on Masaharu's earlobe.

Good instincts, Masaharu reflected, sagging back against Sanada's support. Though he couldn't help laughing when Hiroshi fished a tube out of his robe and tossed it over. His partner always planned ahead.

The feeling of Sanada pushing into him, opening him long and slow left him open mouthed and breathless.

He did make a strangled sound when Marui, with a grin, squirmed around in front of him and closed his mouth firmly around Masaharu's cock.

Hiroshi chuckled. Masaharu was trying to flex forward and Sanada's hold wasn't letting him. Which was not to say Sanada was going slowly, now he had Masaharu where he wanted him. His partner was in good hands, Hiroshi decided. Very good hands, if the surge of fever heat running through Hiroshi was any indication.

He glanced over at Yukimura and Yanagi, who were going slowly with Akaya, and probably just as well. He could see from here that Akaya was shaking just a little, in Yukimura's arms, as Yanagi rocked into him slow and careful. Or possibly he was shaking because of the way Yukimura was kissing him. Hiroshi suspected that Yukimura had it in him to be an utterly overwhelming lover. He looked forward to finding out.

For now, though, he thought the hunger in Jackal's eyes was stronger than his curiosity.

Jackal raised his brows as Yagyuu edged over to them and wound an arm around Hatter.

"You want to go to Yukimura," Yagyuu noted. "Hatter and I will be fine."

Hatter looked him up and down, eyes bright and languid. "Are you quite sure of that?" she purred.

Yagyuu smiled at her, his usual small, calm smile, made a bit disconcerting by the sharp, ice colored eyes that emerged as he folded his glasses. "Reasonably."

Hatter laughed, twining around him, and Jackal shrugged. Yagyuu was right, after all. He slipped up behind Yukimura and stroked a questioning hand down his back. Yukimura lifted his head from marking Akaya's neck and glanced back, smiling welcome.

He made a soft, enticing sound in his throat when Jackal pressed wet, open mouthed kisses down his ribs and over his hip. When Jackal slipped around him to continue between his legs, though, Yukimura's moan was full voiced, and Jackal liked that even better.

Hiroshi let Belial bear him down to the floor, cradling hir body with his. He'd been half expecting hir to want to turn the tables some time soon, and tipped his head back easily when se nipped at his throat. The strong, slim back under his hands curved sensuously as Belial pressed against him, and the lines of hir against his palms were one more source of enjoyment.

Se arched over him, caging him under hir body, laughing, and Hiroshi laughed with hir. He reached up, sliding his hands over hir chest, ribs, thighs, taking in the texture of hir. He had no trouble believing this was the one who had seduced whole cities.

"Yours," he murmured, brushing his fingertips over hir lips, and Belial leaned down to him, eyes heavy with pleasure.

Genichirou had positioned himself where he could see all of the others, though it had gotten a little difficult to concentrate on anything but the flex of Niou's body against his and the hardness of Niou's thighs spread over his. Niou's wildness teased Genichirou to be harder, rougher than he usually was. Genichirou was careful of his strength, unless he truly lost his temper. Niou...

Niou wasn't careful.

Genichirou made a harsh sound into pale, tangled hair as Niou drove back against him, skin sliding against hot skin.

Belial gasped against Yagyuu's mouth as his fingers stroked, lightly, between hir legs. Seiichi must have been telling hir secrets, se decided. Yagyuu wasn't hesitant enough to have been ignorant of Belial's body beforehand. Few people had ever bothered to discover, or been allowed to discover, that, just because the nerves weren't in either of the two standard arrangements, didn't mean their density or sensitivity was any less. And Seiichi was the only one of those people nearby.

Or, for that matter, still alive.

Se moaned softly as Yagyuu slid down hir body and his tongue followed the path of his fingers. It felt good; hot and smooth, with a bright shiver to the sensations that fluttered through hir. Good enough that Belial was panting for breath.

Seiichi had definitely been telling.

"Yours," Hiroshi whispered to hir again, "so relax for me."

Or perhaps they just all thought alike.

It was true, though. They were hirs, and the liquid echo of their pleasure in hir body was the proof of it. So Belial did relax, letting Hiroshi tease hir nerves and feed hir desire until se felt like fire was dancing over hir skin.

And then under hir skin.

And then Belial was arching into Hiroshi's hands as ripples of pleasure washed through hir, hot and sleek and brilliant.

Marui tossed his head back with a shiver, drawing away from Masaharu, and Masaharu might have protested that, except that the humming tingle of other people's sensations suddenly had an edge. The first wringing heat was already clamping down on him when Sanada surged forward, thrusting into him fast and hard, and Masaharu lost track of the world outside his skin for a while.

Renji sucked in a sharp breath as someone else's climax crested through him, jerking his hips up, wringing a desperate sound from Akaya. Renji's hand, which had been clasped loosely around Jackal's cock, tightened and Jackal bucked into it with a low, vibrant moan. Seiichi shivered and tensed, trying, Renji knew, not to thrust into Jackal's mouth, but he was swept along, too. His teeth against Akaya's throat made Akaya start, body tightening around Renji. And then again. And again. And Renji closed his eyes and let the heat drag him out of himself.

When Seiichi recovered enough breath and wits to untangle himself a bit, Belial promptly twined hirself around him. Purring. The content little humming noises in hir throat made Seiichi chuckle.

"One knew you were a good idea," Belial murmured.

"Have to agree with you there," Niou yawned from where he was lying with his head on Yagyuu's stomach.

"Mmm," Akaya put in, sounding a bit dazed.

"You didn't break him, did you?" Belial asked, eyeing Akaya. He revived enough to give hir a dirty look.

"Don't be silly," Marui yawned. "Just because Akaya was the only virgin here..."

Akaya made to get up, probably to go strangle Marui, only to pause with a wince and a dubious look.

"Asprin first," Renji told him, amusement lurking behind his practical tone, "and then a hot soak. Retribution later."

Belial collapsed on the floor, in the middle of them all, laughing. "You were all a good idea," se declared, looking immensely pleased.

Three

It was pure luck, really. Akaya happened to be the only one in the room when Genichirou woke from his nap. And Genichirou happened to be looking in the right direction to notice the covert glance Akaya gave his bare skin, and the faint flush that followed.

He did find it amusing that Akaya was still shy after the last forty-eight hours.

Genichirou considered his immediate urge to invite Akaya over to have a closer look. He had certainly had his own inhibitions lowered in that time period, hadn't he? But, after all, he and Akaya had not had, as Niou insisted on putting it, quality time together yet. Now seemed like a good time. "Akaya," he called, low-voiced, and held out a hand when Akaya looked sidelong at him.

Akaya was still for a long moment before he rose and approached. His eyes were wary, but also brightening, the way they did when he played practice matches against Genichirou. Especially matches that got just a little serious. The brightness pleased Genichirou, but the wariness made him sigh, silently. Seiichi had told him he would have to address that sooner or later. And while he'd managed to side-step the issue until now, Genichirou didn't much like the idea of a bedmate being afraid of him.

Nor did he deceive himself that this retreat would be a one time thing, not with Hatter, Niou and Seiichi all involved.

So Genichirou drew Akaya down and gathered him close, the way he held Renji or Seiichi when they were upset or troubled. He almost winced at the stiff surprise in Akaya's body. Genichirou stroked his neck and back, seeking to quiet him, and slowly Akaya relaxed. Bit by bit the tension in him uncoiled and he leaned more heavily against Genichirou's chest until, at last, he rested his head on Genichirou's shoulder with a faint half laugh.

"Sanada-san," Akaya said, breath warm against Genichirou's neck, "I know."

"Hm?" Genichirou inquired.

Akaya ducked his head down a little further. "I know. When I lost to Fuji and you let me go... I knew then. It's all right."

Genichirou was slightly shamed by Akaya's ready forgiveness. "Thank you, Akaya."

"Mm." Akaya ran his fingertips down Genichirou's chest, not looking up.

The shy touch reminded Genichirou of his initial intention, and he set a hand under Akaya's chin to lift his head. Akaya caught his breath under Genichirou's kiss, pressing against him. Akaya was tense again, in a different way, now, and he shivered as Genichirou eased the robe off of him. Genichirou was pleased with this responsiveness, but for this first time between them he didn't want tension of any kind. He wanted to reassure Akaya. Wanted Akaya to feel safe enough to answer him properly. So instead of pushing Akaya down on the sheets, he leaned back and drew Akaya along to lie over him.

Akaya made a small, surprised noise and wriggled a bit to get comfortable. And then he paused and stretched more slowly, eyes drifting half shut as their bodies pressed together, lean and hard and warm. Genichirou chuckled and wound his fingers into Akaya's hair, guiding him down to be kissed again. He swept a palm, slowly, up and down Akaya's back, over his shoulders; Akaya's legs tightened against Genichirou's hips when he rubbed his thumb, gently, over a nipple. When Genichirou slid both hands down to knead Akaya's thighs and rear, Akaya turned into a boneless sprawl and Genichirou had to laugh.

"You like that?" he murmured.

"Mmm," Akaya agreed against his neck.

"Good." Now Akaya was closer to where Genichirou wanted him; lax and pliant and ready to be pleasured. Genichirou fished briefly in the tangled sheets for the bottle of oil someone had dropped there. That addition to his touch drew some interesting noises from Akaya, half gasps and little murmurs caught short. The murmurs turned to genuine moans as Genichirou's fingers spread Akaya open and massaged his entrance. Akaya wouldn't stop moving, now, tiny twists and stretches that brushed his skin silkily over Genichirou's until Genichirou had a hard time remembering to go slowly.

When he finally pressed his fingers into Akaya, Akaya released a long breath. "Sanada-san," he whispered, soft and rough. The sound of it was enough to make Genichirou rock his hips up against Akaya's as his fingers thrust deeper. This time the sound Akaya made had no words.

Genichirou didn't think Akaya noticed at all when the door slid open. He, however, was well placed to meet Seiichi's eyes as they widened and then gleamed with a reflection of Seiichi's sudden, considering smile. Genichirou's lips twitched. Seiichi wanted to join the fun, hm? He didn't think Akaya would object; Genichirou knew he didn't.

Genichirou raised his knees and spread his legs, inviting Seiichi. Akaya gasped as Genichirou's legs pressed his own wider apart, shivered as Genichirou withdrew his fingers with a final, firm caress.

"Have you been wondering what it would be like to have Seiichi inside you, Akaya?" he asked, keeping one eye on Seiichi's amused expression as he came and knelt, silently, between Genichirou's legs.

Akaya shuddered. "Yukimura-san... he... yes," he stammered, tucking his head down deeper against Genichirou's shoulder.

"You have good instincts," Genichirou noted, dryly. "He can be rather intense. It helps to have someone else there. Someone else to hold you."

Akaya stilled. "Yukimura-san?" he asked, very softly, after a moment.

"Yes," Seiichi answered, laying his hands gently on Akaya's back. "I can leave the two of you alone, if you'd rather, Akaya."

Akaya shook his head quickly, though Genichirou could feel that his face was hot. He pressed against Genichirou, breathing fast, and Genichirou closed his arms around Akaya, anchoring him. He waited for Akaya to relax against him again and nodded to Seiichi. Seiichi shed his robe and settled between Genichirou's spread thighs. He took in a sharp breath as Genichirou reached down to slide an oiled hand down his hardening erection until Seiichi laughed and caught his wrist.

Genichirou smoothed his hands over Akaya's rear, spreading him open again, and Seiichi leaned down to place a soft kiss at the small of Akaya's back.

"Ready?"

"Ready?"

Yukimura-san's voice was gentle, as reassuring as the firm touch of Sanada-san's hands and body. Akaya managed to vocalize a "Yes," albeit a shaky one. Not that he was reluctant at all; he didn't think he'd ever been more ready for anything in his life. The careful strength of Sanada-san's hands had nearly dissolved him into warm, slack pleasure. And now the steady pressure of Yukimura-san sliding into him, opening him, pressing him harder against Sanada-san's body, nearly stopped his breath. By the time Yukimura-san drew back and pressed in again, slow and even and unstoppable, Akaya was panting in quick gasps.

"Easy, Akaya," Yukimura-san whispered to him, still moving with that unbearably even rhythm.

Akaya bit his lip. "Yukimura-san..."

Sanada-san's hands slid down his thighs, squeezing tension out of them, and Akaya's voice broke as his control washed away, again, under those hands. "Harder, Seiichi," Sanada-san said, voice husky. "Give him something to hold on to; Akaya won't break."

Akaya's next breath was almost a sob of relief as Yukimura-san's rhythm turned sharper, more powerful. He was moving now, too, hips flexing against Sanada-san and the solid heat of Sanada-san's body between his legs steadied him. The sensation flickering through him was raw, though, and the touches against him, inside him, were insistent. Demanding as the sparks flashing down Akaya's nerves. It wasn't long at all before shuddering heat raced up him, overtook him. He felt like it might have drowned him except for the two bodies pressing him between them. Held by their strength, Akaya jerked wildly with the bursts of pleasure, let Sanada-san's mouth muffle the sounds he was making, let Yukimura-san's weight pin him down until his muscles went slack and liquid.

He could barely moan at the hot, rough feeling of Yukimura-san thrusting against his body's lingering tightness. He did manage a small murmur when Yukimura-san's forehead finally came to rest between Akaya's shoulder blades, one hand stroking Akaya's side as if to soothe.

It took him a little while to remember that they should not, really, be done yet.

"Sanada-san?" he asked, a little hoarse, lifting his head.

"You can move again already?" Sanada-san asked, sounding both amused and just a bit strained. "I'm impressed."

"Well," Yukimura-san said, voice suddenly silky in a way that made Akaya shiver, "if Akaya is recovered enough to move a little, we can see about making you more than just impressed."

Sanada-san's smile showed his teeth.

"Wait." Akaya glanced down at Sanada-san, hesitantly. "Would it... is it all right if... um."

Sanada-san looked up at him, questioning. "Akaya?"

"What you started," Akaya said, softly, "would you... finish it?"

Sanada-san's brows rose.

"Akaya," Yukimura-san said, winding his arms around Akaya's shoulders, "if we do that you'll be very sore after."

"I'll be all right," Akaya insisted. "I just... I want..." He bit his lip.

Sanada-san's thumb tracing over his mouth coaxed him to stop. He drew Akaya down and kissed him until the tension Akaya hadn't noticed left his shoulders again, chased away by the wet heat of Sanada-san's mouth. "If you like," Sanada-san agreed.

"Yes," Akaya breathed, and then, as an afterthought, added, "Please."

Sanada-san's lips curled up. "I very much do," he said, voice deeper than usual.

Yukimura-san was laughing as he pulled Akaya up to lean back against his chest. Akaya let his head fall back on Yukimura-san's shoulder, reminding himself to relax, as Yukimura-san's hands guided Sanada-san against Akaya. Into Akaya. Stretching him open again, and it did ache a little but Akaya didn't care. He'd been right. It felt good when Sanada-san rolled his hips up, thrusting deep into Akaya. Even without the urgency of orgasm pushing at him, it felt good to be opened. Filled. Fucked slowly, and he could see in the line of Sanada-san's mouth that he was fighting to be slow, to be careful.

Yukimura-san seemed to have other ideas. "Doesn't he feel good inside you?" he whispered in Akaya's ear. "Do you like the stretch when he slides into you? The hardness of him?" Akaya shuddered. Oh, yes. He did like it. He thought, fuzzily, that the hot tingle of Sanada-san's pleasure in Akaya's own body helped; but he'd like this even without it. "Doesn't he feel good, Genichirou?" Yukimura-san asked Sanada-san in turn, and Akaya could hear the smile in his voice, could almost feel it in the hand Yukimura-san slid down Akaya's chest. "Hot and taut and yielding. So willing."

Akaya's breath stuttered. He didn't think he'd ever heard anyone sound so sultry. So suggestive. Eyes wide, he saw Sanada-san swallow hard, felt his hands tighten on Akaya's hips, felt him drive up harder. And then Sanada-san's rhythm broke into short, quick thrusts, and Akaya groaned with him.

This time, Akaya really did collapse completely, and was entirely content to let Yukimura-san and Sanada-san arrange him in between them on the futon.

"You've gotten your way all around, haven't you Seiichi?" Sanada-san noted as he leaned over to collect a kiss from Yukimura-san.

"Have I?" Yukimura-san asked, lightly.

Sanada-san snorted. "This," he ran a hand over Akaya's shoulder, "is how you've always regarded our team, isn't it? As devoted as any lover. And now you've charmed the rest of us to your way of thinking."

"It is pleasant that it worked out that way," Yukimura-san admitted, curling an arm around Akaya's waist. "Are you sure you're all right, Akaya?" he added, as Akaya shifted a bit.

"I'm fine," Akaya said, quickly.

Yukimura-san's hold tightened. "Akaya." His voice in Akaya's ear was soft, but edged with unmistakable command.

"All right, a little sore, but I really am fine," Akaya insisted.

"Hm." Sanada-san combed Akaya's hair back with his fingers. "Why are you blushing then?" he asked.

Akaya growled. He hated his complexion, he really did. He burrowed, grumpily, into the tangle of covers. "I wanted to make sure," he muttered. "I did. It's fine."

There was a little rustling over his head, and then Yukimura-san pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "I'll be right back."

"Make sure of what?" Sanada-san asked, as Yukimura-san's footsteps receded.

Akaya turned one eye up to him. Sanada-san looked curious; he also looked unusually patient. Akaya sighed. He was almost as bad at resisting Sanada-san, when he was calm, as at resisting Yukimura-san any time. "Sure of what it was I liked," he supplied. "I liked it when... one of you was... inside me." He hunched his shoulders in a tiny shrug.

Sanada-san pulled Akaya to him and held him tight enough to drive his breath out. "Good," he said, definitely. The heat and velvet in his voice were enough to compensate Akaya for the embarrassment of saying it out loud. "I know what you mean, though," Sanada-san added, relaxing his hold.

Akaya looked up at him, surprised. "You do?"

Sanada-san gave him an ironic look. "Yes, I do."

"Oh." Akaya settled down in his arms, smiling a little.

"Here," Yukimura-san said, coming back to their side, "turn over for a minute, Akaya."

Akaya started and then sighed at the cool damp of the cloth Yukimura-san stroked him with. Maybe, he decided, Hatter was right and all this really was a good idea.

End

Reconnaissance

Lys ap Adin

Ukitake reports on disturbances in Tokyo. Humor, I-1

Juushirou contemplated the blank page for a long time, marshaling his thoughts, before picking up his pen and beginning to write one of the most improbable reports in the history of Soul Society.

...After being dispatched to the human world, it was agreed that to make most efficient use of our time, the Eighth Division's captain and I would conduct individual reconnaissance, since the territory to be covered was not so broad that we would be unable to render each other assistance if needed....

Shunsui's idea, that, and he should have known when Shunsui suggested that they'd make better time by splitting up—â€œI'll take the little fiddly bits around the edges, and see what I can ferret out, and you just look in on the big stuff and make sure we haven't missed anything, how's that sound?â€—but then, no one else had a better knack at noticing small details, either. It was just in keeping with Shunsui's luck that the territory he'd picked really hadn't had any activity worth noting.

...As has been noted in earlier reports, the levels of spiritual activity in the Tokyo and surrounding regions remains at an all-time high. Our survey indicates that the activity is diverse in nature, including entities both celestial and infernal, as well as some influences from our counterparts in the other branch. A detailed list of all activity is appended to this report....

One demon in Kanagawa, very proprietary towards hir team, and tutoring at least one member of said team in various arcane arts. No less than three angels in Tokyo, shepherding assorted teams around, although none of them seemed half as territorial as the demon. At least one other demon and angel popping in on a regular basis to visit, Antichrist in tow, and that led one to the fact that the Messiah seemed to be settled in the area permanently, and took regular visits from Lucifer. Plus the interference from the shinigami from the other division and the malleability of the borders between realms at the academy that seemed to be obsessed with roses.

And that was only the junior high level, for pity's sake.

What was happening in the high schools didn't bear thinking about.

...Hollow activity does not seem to have increased noticeably, yet, but given the rising levels of concentrated spiritual energy, it is our conclusion that it is only a matter of time before it does....

On the other hand, it wasn't like the motley collection of entities wasn't capable of handling the occasional stray hollow, and quite likely had been since they'd converged on Kantou. The demon in Kanagawa had done so while he was in the area, although he rather suspected se had been showing off for his benefit.

At least, Juushirou thought, grimly, if Aizen decided to make his move any time soon, there was a fifty-fifty chance that he would lose.

...It is our recommendation that the situation be monitored closely, and that we prepare ourselves to move swiftly....

Although Shunsui's inclination to adopt a tennis team of his own was not precisely the monitoring Juushirou had originally had in mind. It had taken threats of calling Nanao-chan to dislodge Shunsui from where he was holding court with the team he'd picked out, trading puns and pouring sake liberally for the boys he'd elected to adopt, and Juushirou wasn't certain that Shunsui had given up on his scheme, even now.

It wouldn't be a bad idea, though, to have someone monitoring things on a more personal levelâ€”and at this juncture, the addition of more spiritual energy could hardly make a difference in the number of Hollows it attracted. Juushirou shrugged, and signed the report. As long as Shunsui kept his new hobby to his afternoons off, he couldn't see the harm in it.

Home Again, Home Again

Branch

Konzen gets home and he and Ryouma finally meet. Humor with Drama, I-2

Ryouma was fairly used to uproars around the house every now and then, especially when Nanako found his dad's latest stash of magazines or one of his noisier senpai stopped by for a game.

This, however, sounded a little different.

He ambled down the stairs to find a scowling blond man standing in the entry way, and a younger man dragging in the door under a pile of bags.

"Nii-san," his dad called, wandering in, followed by Nanako with a pleased cry of "Otou-sama!"

Ok, so this was his uncle. Ryouma came the rest of the way down the stairs, and stood at the bottom while his uncle accepted Nanako's welcome home and traded sneers with his dad. This could be interesting; he'd heard stories about Konzen-jisan

"Worthless as ever, I see," his uncle pronounced, looking Oyaji up and down.

"Bad tempered as ever, likewise," was the return. Then his dad eyed the other young man. "You hired a porter?"

"Goku-san," Nanako supplied, smiling. "Here, let me help with those. I'm afraid we're down to the smallest room, for you," she said, as they passed Ryouma and headed down the hall. "Or should I spread a futon in Otou-sama's room?"

"Or did you hire a something else?" Oyaji added, leering.

Ryouma's uncle fetched his dad a quick swat across the back of the head. "Don't be an idiot."

"Sheesh, you really haven't changed," Oyaji complained, rubbing his head. His eye lit on Ryouma, who had to supress the urge to take to his heels. That was the bright-idea look. "That's right, you haven't met your nephew yet!"

Ryouma wondered why his uncle twitched at the word 'nephew'. And then he wondered how this person could be related to his dad, as he was practically pinned to the wall with a long, level stare. The stare ended when his uncle smacked his dad a good deal harder than before.

"Are you completely blind?" Ji-san barked. "The curse is bad enough, but that..." he squinted at Ryouma again. "Did you sign anything?" he demanded.

Ryouma blinked. "You're not one of them, too, are you?"

His uncle closed his eyes as if in pain, right hand flexing just a bit ominously. "No, I'm not," he said, flatly.

"Ah." Ryouma couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a gun tucked away at Ji-san's waist. On the same side as that hand. "I'll go get my copy and show you," he suggested, and slipped up the stairs without waiting for an answer.

When he came back down his uncle was settled at the table contemplating a cup of tea while the other one... Goku?... chattered at him. Ryouma was reminded a little of how Atobe-san was with Jirou-san, at least when Jirou-san was awake. "Here," he offered, spreading out the scroll. "It isn't exactly a deal with anyone in particular; just saying that I'll be there in return for my own realm."

"Your own realm? Oh, hey, cool!" Goku chipped in, leaning over Ji-san's shoulder. Ji-san shoved him off, absently, scanning the contract. At last he leaned back, and pulled out a cigarette.

"All right," he declared, after a long drag. "Maybe I'm not completely embarassed to admit you're related to me."

"That's nice," Ryouma agreed. "Now, what was that about a curse?"

Ji-san smiled a rather scary smile around the cigarette. "Not sure who did it, but I bet I can tell you why..."

End

This Time

Branch

Tezuka gets to high school and meets his rather unsettling new senpai. Humor, I-2

"So." Fuji hitched his bag up on his shoulder as he strolled along beside Kunimitsu. "What do you think of this rumor about the new players?"

Kunimitsu stifled a wince as the every student in hearing started murmuring. He disliked gossip just about as much as Fuji enjoyed it. Still, he supposed it could be worse.

At least there weren't any supernatural beings hanging around this year.

"I heard they played soccer in middle school..."

"I heard they got kicked out of the game, and that's why they switched over to tennis for high school!"

"But they can't be any good, if they just started."

"If they're third years now," Fuji put in, "they have at least that much experience."

"Yes, but..." Ooishi frowned. "I've heard that their play has been... well, rather strange."

"This is their second straight year as Regulars." Kikumaru shrugged. "Seems like they make a good team."

"Yes, but this thing they have with Yamabuki—" Ooishi broke off as they all rounded the last corner and saw the courts.

What he saw was a wheel, Kunimitsu thought. Not in shape but in movement—in focus. Everyone and everything centered on the tall blond who had to be the captain. Everything moved around him. Kunimitsu frowned; it wasn't a very... Seigaku arrangement. Well, he could tolerate it for a year if he had to, he supposed. The practice seemed to be running smoothly enough.

Though... the burly player with the odd grayish hair, off to one side, was going to cost the school a new ball machine if his returns kept hitting it. The casing was badly dented already. Well, he told himself, hanging onto some optimism, it meant they had an excellent power player in the club.

"Curious combination that pair on the end has," Fuji murmured.

Ooishi looked rather troubled, himself, watching the two players. "You'd almost think they hated each other."

Kunimitsu had to agree. He had an irresistible impression that both players were constantly on the edge of grabbing a handful of the other's long hair and yanking. The opposing pair, twins by the look of them, had far more harmony in their formation.

"Tight play, though," Fuji observed. As the red-haired player served he added more softly, "And a... rather small waist, too."

Kunimitsu raised a brow at Fuji.

"No, it's nothing." Fuji had a tiny smile, though.

"Ah!" Kikumaru exclaimed, pointing. "Look! He's even more chibi than Ochibi!"

Then he sidled around behind Ooishi as the "chibi" in question turned to give him the flattest, coldest, oldest look Kunimitsu had ever seen on a human face.

Throughout this, the captain had seemed to take no notice of the new first-years' arrival, but now he called everyone in. Kunimitsu drew a discreet breath of relief and settled down, as they lined up, to listen to the first day speech. There were no surprises, which relaxed him more.

Until the end.

"Yamabuki has been working, too. But this year it won't do them any good. This year, we'll take Seishaku and his people down." The captain's blue eyes took on a rather unsettling gleam. "This time, we'll have them."

The Regular players snapped back, in clearly accustomed unison, "Yes, Gi-buchou!"

Kunimitsu was starting to have a very bad feeling about this.

In a Heaven, in a Book...

Suzaku stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at his brother. "Was that really necessary? I finally thought I'd found a way to make all of them happy, and now this!"

"It wasn't my idea." Seiryuu examined his nails. "Talk to my ex-seishi."

Suzaku growled and stalked off across the planes to see what he could do about this trouble in the way of the souls he'd put so much effort into getting reincarnated properly. At least, he thought, no one but a mortal would be interfering with him this time...

End

Recruiting

Lady Crysiana

Ryouma makes Moonlily an offer. Humor, I-1

Echizen Ryouma fully admitted that he was a simple person with simple wants and simple ways of getting them. This was probably the reason why he’d ended up meeting with what he was told was one of the more stable Grigori, and why he was just going to read the proposal to her and send her off with a copy. Ryouma smiled slightly at Moonlily and began to read.

“To whom it may concern. Echizen Ryouma proposes for those Grigori who feel an interest that they claim their own place in the emerging realm of heaven/hell. Echizen Ryouma has been assured by the Lord of Hell (hereafter referred to as “Lucifer”) and one of the Great Angels (hereafter referred to as “Raphael”) that a neutral realm in the midst of the current political chaos could be quite useful, and because of this support, he feels confident enough to extend an offer to those previously referred to (ie, the Grigori.) Echizen acknowledges that his place could not be solidified until his death, but in the interests of protecting those Grigori who are of a mind to avoid being relegated to uncomfortable positions in heaven or hell, he chooses to establish his domain before he can properly oversee it. If any Grigori finds a place in the current administration untenable, that Grigori is invited to live in the future area to be called Sampras. Echizen offers a place both to those Grigori who wish to continue domestic service and those who wish to branch out on their own, provided that they are prepared to work in community with others. Any Grigori accepting the offer also accepts that he or she lives under the conditions of Echizen Ryouma’s contract with heaven and agrees to a pact of nonviolence towards all parties in heaven, hell, and Assiah. Should there be no interest in such a contract, this offer will extend to non-Grigori on a case-by-case basis. Sincerely, Echizen Ryouma.”

Moonlily blinked at Ryouma, then smiled. “It’s a nice letter. I’ll show it to the others and we’ll talk about it.”

Ryouma nodded, smiling slightly. “I hope you decide to help. I do want to make a neutral place where people can be comfortable in heaven.”

Moonlily nodded and left with the letter as footsteps sounded behind Ryouma. Ryouma didn’t bother to turn. “You didn’t mention that it also guarantees you an established base and a staff if they take it up,” Raphael said.

“They’ll figure it out themselves,” Ryouma said dismissively. “And besides, I will need a staff, and the ones who will be staff will be the ones who choose to be anyway.”

“Your generosity is stunning,” Raphael said dryly.

“Thanks,” said Ryouma absently.

Compromise

Shiraume

Karupin has some issues with Ryouma's new realm. Humor, I-1

Echizen Ryoma had two loves in his life. (Actually, he had three, though he would never admit it, at least not until the said third love stopped playing so damned hard to get.) Anyone from the Seishun Senior High tennis club could tell you the first one: tennis. Any of them could also tell you the second: his cat. So no one said anything when Karupin started to tag along on some of their practice days.

It was one of those days, and everyone was changing in the clubhouse. Fuji was asking how Echizen's afterlife recruitment plan was going.

"Fine. I think the mansion's tennis courts will be finished ahead of the schedule. I'm thinking about adding another tennis center in the south." Echizen sounded satisfied, and Fuji nodded.

"Are you adding any gardens to Sampras?" Fuji asked, and Karupin suddenly tensed, letting out a low hiss. A few seconds ticked by, and Karupin remained tense.

"Your cat doesn't look very happy," Fuji observed mildly.

"He's been doing that a lot lately," Ryoma replied, irritated.

"Are you going to take him with you to Sampras when - " Fuji started, only to be stopped by a sharp hiss. Fuji closed his mouth, stared at the cat for few moments, then continued. "As I was saying, when you go to Sampras - "

Karupin screeched shrilly, every hair raised on his arched back. Fuji's lips twitched briefly.

"I think I know what's wrong with your cat."

"What?" Ryoma sounded exasperated, as he carefully stroked Karupin's back, trying to calm him down. It didn't seem to be working.

"Echizen, I think your cat's angry because you didn't name your place after him."

"Huh?" Ryoma turned to look at Fuji, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

"He does that every time you mention 'Sampras,'" Fuji said cheerfully as Karupin hissed sharply. "See?"

Ryoma turned his attention back to Karupin, who looked ready to bite off his hand, and considered something briefly.

"How about a compromise?" Ryoma asked. Karupin twitched his tail skeptically. Ryoma leaned closer to the cat, and started to talk.

Land of Sampras, many years later

"Welcome to Karupin Mansion, sir," the Grigori at the door said. The man nodded. In his arms, a spotted Himalayan mewed smugly.

Hard to Get

Branch

Ryouma is still chasing Tezuka. Humor with Drama, I-2

Kunimitsu picked up the next in his stack of birthday cards, and smiled faintly. This one was bound to be amusing.

Dear Buchou,

Happy 40th. Heard you passed the Park Ranger certification; congratulations. Hope bears don't eat you.

On that subject, finally got Sengoku to sign on, and Lucifer says mountains no problem to add. Are you sure you won't come?

Cheers, Echizen

Kunimitsu chuckled softly.

"Is that one from Echizen?" Uriel asked from the couch, sipping his tea.

"His annual campaign speech, yes," Kunimitsu answered. "Do you happen to know how he secured Sengoku for the afterlife?"

"If that's the redhead," Uriel sighed, "Echizen seems to have maneuvered him and Raphael into proximity at the last Australian Open. They had quite the lively chat, from what I hear. Raphael came back smirking so hard Barbiel made him sleep on the couch on general principles." He shook his head. "For such a straightforward person, Echizen can be very cunning."

Kunimitsu pulled over a sheet of writing paper. "Echizen has a very good sense of people, once he's had a chance to judge them on the court."

Uriel leaned back. "These people are still your friends. Are you sure it wouldn't be better to join him, rather than going through me?"

"If Echizen doesn't have goals to meet, challenges to overcome, it won't be good for him," Kunimitsu returned, absently, as he wrote.

Echizen,

Thank you for your good wishes.

Mountains are a fine addition; they'll make a valuable training location. I'm sure the domain will do well, with you thinking so far ahead.

Tezuka

"Besides," he added, folding the paper, "I enjoy your company, and you can use my help more than Echizen. In the end, I expect he'll be pleased that I'm next door, as it were, and not interfering with him."

"And it isn't, after all, as if you won't be visiting," Uriel suggested, smiling.

Kunimitsu sipped his own tea, quite calmly. "Of course."

End

A Demon and Hir Boy

Branch

Kirihara in Hell. Humor, I-1

"You... you... you ate Tash!" Jadis declared, pointing a shaking finger at Akaya. Or, possibly, at the cloud of smoke in front of him that had, until very recently, been one of Jadis' inferior demons.

"Yeah?" Akaya raised his brows and flexed his fingers. "And?"

Belial laughed. This was the most fun se had had in centuries, and learning that Akaya had managed to absorb the demon who tried to possess him was the icing on the cake. "Indeed. And one suspects that he'll do something even worse to you if you don't make yourself scarce and stop trying to assert spurious claims of loyalty. After all," se smiled, wickedly, "he isn't a tame human."

Akaya gave hir a pleased look as Jadis scuttled off. "This is fun."

Belial tucked a hand around his arm as they strolled on. "Isn't it?"

End

The Direct Approach

Lady Crysiana

Ryouma finally catches Tezuka. Humor, I-3

“Welcome to Sampras, sir. May I take your bag?”

Tezuka stared at the smiling Grigori for a long moment. It had been disconcerting enough to become used to Uriel’s home and the rather eccentric idea that Uriel seemed to feel was “organization.” He hadn’t just been making excuses when he told Lily that he couldn’t come to Echizen’s “Hi, I’m Dead Too” party, as the man had called it. Tezuka tried to avoid the thought that he’d been making excuses at all, but a lifetime of honesty with himself made that difficult. “I can handle my bag, thank you,” Tezuka said, nodding to the angel. “I was hoping to see Echizen.”

The Grigori nodded. “He’s been expecting you. You have your own rooms next to his, connected with a door, of course. I’ll show you the way.”

Tezuka followed the Grigori automatically. Though part of his mind urged him to contemplate the Grigori’s words, he opted to look at the décor, instead. He reflected that it was probably lucky that the twelve-year-old Echizen hadn’t been able to decorate it himself, because he certainly wouldn’t have done something tasteful in cream and jade. It did, however, make Tezuka recall Atobe’s remark that after a while the colors made one feel as if one was fading out of existence.

“We’re here, sir,” the Grigori said, interrupting Tezuka’s thoughts. “Mr. Ryouma said to tell you that he’s hoping you enjoy him and your stay.”

Tezuka gave the Grigori the look he gave Fuji when Fuji had spent too much time with Belial and it was showing. “Could you repeat that please?”

“Of course. Mr. Ryouma said you’d ask. Mr. Ryouma said to tell you that he’s hoping you enjoy the rooms and being in him.”

Tezuka shook his head. “Being…”

“Being with him.” Tezuka was suddenly reminded of Eriol and Eriol’s innocent smile as he watched the Grigori’s polite expression. The Grigori opened the door for Tezuka. “He’s waiting for you inside, sir.”

Tezuka headed in, dumping his bag by the door. A quick inspection of most of the suite revealed that it was more apartment than anything. However, Echizen was not in evidence in the kitchenette, or the living room, or what appeared to be the office. Tezuka sighed and opened the door to the bedroom. “Echizen…”

Echizen gave Tezuka a sharp look from where he lounged on the bed. “I’ve finally decided to be direct about it.”

“…ah. I doubt I’ll be able to resist, then,” said Tezuka mildly.

“You’d better not,” Echizen muttered, rising and crossing the room swiftly to come to Tezuka’s side.

“Did you learn that pose from Atobe?” Tezuka inquired.

Ryouma glowered at Tezuka and prevented any further comment by efficiently stopping the other man’s mouth.

The Sound of Music

Branch

Sanada gets enspelled and everyone gets a surprise. Humor, I-1

Belial really couldn't help but find it entertaining that Genichirou complained about Hell's demons not being serious enough in their work.

"I mean, really," Genichirou was currently holding forth, "this is ridiculous, what am I doing here? I'm in the wrong story!"

He stopped dead and tried very hard to stare at his own mouth. Belial sat up, blinking.

"Was Sanada... just... singing?" Masaharu asked, slowly.

"Yes," Renji answered, not as if he quite believed it himself.

"Ah," Belial sighed. "One believes one knows what the problem is. Just a moment." Se threw a card to one side where it impaled a grinning demon in an extremely tacky red suit. "One thought you had been taken care of by that charmingly confused blond girl," se murmured.

"That was... a spell?" Genichirou asked, still a bit pale.

"Lesson sixty-two about living in Hell," Belial told them all. "Never accept jewelry from demons."

End

Irony

Lady Crysiana

Ryouma takes a vacation. Humor, I-1

Ryouma nodded politely to the group that had gathered at his request. Several hundred years was enough to let someone get used to the same faces and personalities, he’d found, and so he knew almost every one of the assembled very, very well. Especially since he’d played tennis with them for several hundred years. He tugged at his cap, a habit that even death hadn’t been able to banish, and sighed. “I told you that I have an announcement to make,” he said. “It’s this. I’m leaving.”

Ryouma noted that understanding was more or less instantaneous on some faces, less so on others, especially Fuji’s and Tezuka’s. He held a hand up at the startled exclamations and explained, “The last direct descendant of any of us died yesterday. Yes, I’ve been keeping track,” he said, to a questioning look from Inui. He went on, “The world would probably be fine even if I didn’t go back into the cycle of reincarnation, but after some time here, I want to make sure that things stay safe.”

Ryouma wasn’t surprised that it was Momoshirou who stepped forward. “You were the one who dragged half of us here,” Momo snapped.

His answer to that was a lazy smirk. “Which is why I know you’ll take care of Sampras for me. I’m trusting all of you with it.” More seriously, he added, “I’m doing this, Momo-san. I’m just telling you because I didn’t want you to be upset because I disappeared.”

“You’re insane,” said Kirihara flatly.

Ryouma snorted. “I rule a region in a place that’s not heaven or hell that’s called ‘Sampras.’ Of course I’m insane. I’m also saying goodbye, until I get back.” He paused thoughtfully. “I’m hoping that my ambition will be something like politics this time.”

That, as he had expected it to, made several of the hardier souls laugh. “Try to be a benign ruler,” Fuji told him serenely.

“I’ll be good,” Ryouma promised. “At least I’ll try.”

Outtakes One

Branch

Author and Muse comments on the side, part one. Humor, I-1

Comments One or Team Sponsorship

C

Raphael: Michael, why are you supporting a junior high tennis team?

Michael: Setsuna suggested it.

Raphael: ...that shouldn't make as much sense as it does.

B

Setsuna-the-one-man-cheering-section: Yeah! Go Fudoumine! Waste those bastards!

Michael: *standing on the fence* Fuck you!

Sakaki: *hand over eyes*

Ryouma: I don't know any of these people. You?

Kamio: Not a single one.

Comments Two or Why Tezuka Sometimes Hates Us

L

Tezuka: I hate you all. [glares]

[pets the buchou] You could have just signed on with Michael, dear.

Tezuka: Don't I have enough problems to deal with? Momo would make one crack—you know he would—and the whole school would have gone up. Tachibana's better with that kind of thing.

B

Tachibana: *smug* Of course I am. You know, Tezuka, if you were just a little closer to your people I'm sure they would answer far more readily to your hand.

Tezuka: *level look* ...did you just suggest what I think you just suggested?

Tachibana: No, of course I didn't. *examines nails*

Tezuka: Leave me alone.

L

[falls out of her chair]

Tezuka, darling, we *can't* leave you alone. You're too much fun for that.

Besides, I'm sure that your team would happily shag you, if you wanted it that way.

Tezuka: ... [stalks off]

Seiichi: I think you hurt his feelings.

B

Nah, not his feelings, just his repression.

Tezuka: *glares*

What? You know any one of them would bend over for you. Even Echizen.

Tezuka: Do you mind?

Not in the least. *sweet smile*

L

Especially Echizen, if you ask me. Boy's got it bad for his buchou.

Tezuka: [hand over face] I'm not hearing this.

And the Fujis! I bet you could be the filling in a Fuji-sandwich!

Tezuka: Lalalalala I can't hear you!

And haven't you ever wondered whether Taka-san would go into burning mode in bed?

Tezuka: Please, God, kill me now.

B

Lucifer: Sorry, Setsuna and I offed him already. I suppose I could kill you, if you really want.

Tezuka: *hopeful* You would?

Lucifer: *leans on wall* Sure. Of course, you would owe me, then...

Tezuka: I'm doomed.

L

Seiichi: You say that like it's a bad thing.

Tezuka: You stay out of this. You have biases.

Seiichi: And you don't? Really, Tezuka. All of that repression can't be good for you.

Tezuka: [glare] What works for one team doesn't work for another.

B

Yeah. *sighs* Not everyone can rule through raw sex appeal.

Tezuka: *opens mouth, closes it* I'm... *glares*

Almost got ya. *grins*

L

Seiichi: [gently] Is it really so difficult to let go, Kunimitsu?

Tezuka: [eyebrows going up] I am not one of yours, Seiichi.

Seiichi: [sigh] More's the pity.

Coments Three or Debates on Who Wins What

L

Michael: Aw, come on, it's not like Rikkai hasn't won for the past how many years?

Tachibana: Besides which fact, you've got the team for eternity. One junior high championship isn't that big a deal, in the long term.

B

Belial: *grumbles*

Seiichi: *soothing* Now, now. We'll all play our best, and what happens happens. Playing the strongest is a good deal of satisfaction in itself.

Belial: *eyes* If you say so.

L

Tezuka: But—but—we're the protagonists!

Michael: ...

Tachibana: [with satisfaction] Not in this AU, you're not.

C

Ryouma: Come on, Buchou, it's not like I'm not going to get everyone to go to heaven and hell just so that we can keep playing tennis after we die.

Tezuka: ........

Eriol: I find your ideas fascinating and would like to subscribe to your newsletter.

L

Tachibana: [smug] It's good to be me.

Tezuka: Fine, fine, you win.

Michael: Well, yeah, that's the point.

Tezuka: [considers taking up heavy drinking]

B

Sanada: *holds out sake bottle* Drink up. It doesn't really help, but it distracts you from the agony.

Belial: Agony? Excuse one? One is considerably more skillful than that.

Tezuka: *bottle half way to mouth* Sanada. Did he just say what I think he said?

Sanada: No. No, he didn't. Pass the bottle back this way, will you?

L

Tezuka: [passes the bottle back] So, your team and Mad Hatter?

Sanada: [healthy drink] ...

Tezuka: [worried] That's not... standard... is it?

Sanada: [passes the bottle back] How the hell should I know?

Tezuka: Fuck. [drinks]

B

*author pops up cheerfully* Oh, probably not, not unless you finally decide to take Ryouma up on what he is so obviously offering.

Tezuka: *dire glare* You can inflict demons and angels and even relatives on me, but you will never corrupt my captainly ethics!

Sanada: *quietly* You know, it really isn't a good idea to give them challenges like that.

L

Em-chibi: Gen-chan is absolutely right, you know. That sounded like a challenge to me. I'm sure Fuji could talk Yuuta into a buchou sandwich.

Tezuka: [pales]

Sanada: [taking an interest in spite of himself] I'd say he's more of an Echizen-type.

Em-chibi: You think?

Tezuka: [waving hands] Right. Here. I'm standing RIGHT HERE.

Sanada: Definitely. Or possibly Oishi. Buchou/Fukubuchou* has a lot to be said for it.

Tezuka: [strangles]

———

*Originally typed as "fuckubuchou" which indicates where my mind is.

C

Eriol: I'm perfectly willing to lock my cute relative in a room with anyone you ladies could suggest. Or everyone, depending on your preference.

Sanada: Do you, by any chance, know the Mad Hatter?

Eriol: Only by reputation, unfortunately. I've never met that charming personage.

Sanada: ...I'm going to go find another bottle.

L

Em-chibi: Then I say we lock Tezuka in with his team and let the pants chips fall where they may.

Tezuka: [has a heart attack]

Raphael: Oh, now that won't do at all. [resurrects Tezuka]

Tezuka: [whimpers] Why do you all hate me so?

Raphael: This isn't hate, this is entertainment.

Comments Four or Contributing to the Delinquency of Minors

B

Hisoka: *hand to head* So, did I hear that someone around here has booze?

L

Sanada: You want booze? We got booze.

Tezuka: Sake, scotch, vodka, whiskey, what's your pleasure?

Yukimura: I never would have figured you for a bartender, Tezuka.

Tezuka: Go away; you're not allowed in this club. [makes shooing motions]

Cam

By the time you're done, half the boys will be alcoholics. And then, their charges will have even more freedom to do as they please.

Tezuka: Perhaps we should cut back.

Sanada: Right after this one.

B

*pets Sanada* There, there, dear, take heart. You're about to get some.

Sanada: ...Tezuka, pass me the whole bottle.

Tezuka: *doubtful* Well, yes, but Cam has a point.

Sanada: Do you really think being sober would stop these three?

Tezuka: ...you have a point, too. *takes a healthy swig*

L

Hisoka: And when you're done, pass that bottle back down this way. [ruminates] Think anyone would miss that Mizuki fellow?

Tezuka: Shh. Fuji'll hear you.

Hisoka: Like that's going to stop me? [drinks]

B

Tezuka: *looks Hisoka up and down* Well, no, not really, but if you give him ideas he might beat you to it.

Hisoka: Oh.

Tezuka: *thoughtful, and swaying slightly* Or he might decide he likes Mizuki today, and try to do you in first. Is that lover of yours possessive or obssessive or anything troublesome like that?

Hisoka: *red* Tsuzuki is not my lover!

Sanada: Better not let the Authors know that. They'll have you in bed with him in a flash. They like to torture us, you know.

Hisoka: *morose* I figured that part out, yeah.

L

Sanada: Not that some of us are too good to be tossed into bed with our teammates, of course. [meaningful look at Tezuka]

Tezuka: [blinking] Are you trying to say something, Sanada?

Sanada: [expansive] Not at all. If I were trying, I'd say that you're a prig with a stick up his ass and that getting laid would do you a world of good. But then, I'm not trying to say anything.

Hisoka: [faintly alarmed] [relieves Tezuka and Sanada of their booze] Ummm, guys...?

B

Tezuka: *narrow glare* So. I take it you would hop right into bed with Echizen, if he just happened to be on your team instead of mine?

Sanada: Hell, for all I know, he's going to show up at the orgy.

Hisoka: *faintly* Orgy?

L

Tezuka: Orgy?!

Sanada: [shrug] These things happen. [thoughtful] I bet we could send Echizen an invitation...

Tezuka: [chokes]

Hisoka: Should he be turning that shade of blue?

Sanada: Probably not.

Outtakes Two

Branch

Author and Muse comments on the side, part two. Humor, I-1

Comments Five or Muses Get A Hangout

L

[shoos Hisoka in the direction of the Tezuka Bar & Grille]

Tezuka: ...the what?

Surely you're not content dispensing booze from a paper bag, Tezuka?

Tezuka: ...

My point exactly. You needed an establishment.

B

Tezuka: *grumbling* Am I at least going to get some in return for the Hell you're putting me through?

*floored* Tezuka!

Tezuka: *prim* As long as Echizen is grown up, and not on my team *eyes Sanada* I have no problem with it.

Really? Well, in that case... *thoughtful*

L

Sanada: There's nothing wrong with team bonding.

Niou: Or team bondage. [leer]

Sanada: ...

Tezuka: ...

Niou: I win!

B

Haru-chan! *high fives*

Tezuka: *steadfastly ignoring this* Sanada, I really don't think he has any business in this bar.

Sanada: *growls* I couldn't agree more. Take a hike, Niou, they couldn't torture you if they tried; you think it's all great fun.

Niou: *lazy smile* Make me.

*author cackles in the background*

L

Tezuka: ...bouncers. We need bouncers.

Niou: I could be your bouncer.

Tezuka: We need bouncers to get rid of you.

Sanada: Perhaps that thug from Yamabuki?

B

Tezuka: *dubious* Perhaps. If he could manage it, what with all the toothmarks.

Akutsu: *lounging on barstool* Hell yes, I can manage it. What's in it for me?

Sanada: *promptly* Free drinks.

L

Akutsu: Sold.

Tezuka: Wait a minute, is this Tezuka's Bar & Grille, or Sanada's Bar & Grille?

Sanada: You were wibbling. I had to take prompt action.

Tezuka: I wasn't wibbling! I was considering calling his references.

Sanada: Wibbling.

Tezuka: Looking before leaping.

Sanada: Wibbling.

Tezuka: Considering other options.

Niou and Akutsu: [eye Tezuka and Sanada]

Niou: [shrugs] Whatever. Pour me a drink?

Akutsu: Sure.

Comments Six or Tales from Tezuka's Bar and Grill

L

I've been convinced for a Very Long Time that it's a pretty tough thing, to be Tezuka.

It's really no wonder that Tezuka-muse has taken to drink.

Tezuka: I was driven to drink. Get it right.

Meep! Sorry, sorry.

B

*wibbles* Mitsu-chaaaan! *cuddles Tezuka* I promise we won't torture you anymore!

Tezuka: *sighs* It's part of the job, and I knew that when I took it.

*big wobbly eyes*

Tezuka: *more briskly* And don't make promises you can't keep, Madam.

*sniffs* Okay.

Tezuka: *wry look* This is how you get around Yukimura, isn't it?

Well, yeah. *thoughtful* Doesn't work as well on Hatter, though.

L

Belial: That is because one invented most of those tricks. [smug]

[pets Tezuka] Poor sweet baby. It can't have been any fun at all for him once he realized that breaking the rules for Echizen meant screwing over one of the other Regulars.

Sanada: [twitch] "Poor sweet baby"? [twitchtwitch]

Tezuka: [warning] Sanada—

Sanada: [howls, pounding the table] Bwahahahahahahah!

B

Niou: They're pretty fun like this, aren't they? *holds out glass*

Akutsu: *pours refills* You're easily amused. It was a lot more fun when he thought I was going to kill his precious little ace. *smirks*

Niou: You're psychotic. I like that.

L

Akutsu: Wait, you do?

Niou: [lazy grin] Doesn't everyone?

Akutsu: Not that I've noticed.

Sanada: [still laughing]

Tezuka: [turning progressively darker shades of red] Sanada, I'm warning you...

Niou: [sitting up] Hold on, I think it's about to get interesting.

Akutsu: What, they're finally going to fuck and get it over with?

C

Ryouma: They'd better not be. I haven't spent so much time letting Ahobe screw me to let someone else have Tezuka.

Yagyuu: I'd heard you were a more direct person than that. That's...intriguing.

Ryouma: I would be direct, but Buchou would tell me to stop, and then everything would be ruined. Besides, I have time.

Niou: So where'd your captain get the talent of being selectively deaf?

Ryouma: *thoughtful* I think Fuji-senpai trained him into it.

Niou: That reminds me of a story about Sanada...

Sanada: *abruptly stops laughing*

Tezuka: *smug*

Redux

B

*muffling chortles* Eriol is so very evil. Oh, yes.

*pets Hiyoshi* There, there, the scary man is gone. For now.

Hiyoshi: *dark look* Excuse me, I have to go look for that bar I keep hearing about.

Cam

Sanada: *Looks at Hiyoshi* Here, have a glass.

Hiyoshi: Thanks. *glares at Tezuka* This is all your fault.

Tezuka: ...*hands over the bottle*

Comments Seven or They're Even Evil to Each Other

B

Now... where shall Tsuzuki wind up? *claps hands* Let's play musical shinigami!

Hisoka: Drop dead.

What, before I even get the two of you in bed? *innocent look*

Hisoka: ...I hate you so very much.

Ah, I feel so accomplished.

C

Ryouma: You know, if you're looking for a way out of being in the middle of all those power battles and everything, Sampras...

Tezuka: Echizen, please confine your recruiting efforts to those who are still alive. And human.

Ryouma: But you always tell us that a good leader makes sure that everyone finds his place where he can contribute the most to the team.

Tezuka: ...I'm going back to the bar.

B

Hisoka: *latching grimly onto Tezuka's arm* Don't, for one second, think you're going without me.

Ryouma: *thoughtful* Maybe I should make some flyers to post at the bar...

Cam

Maybe Ryoma should include a fully stocked bar at Sampras. I'm sure people will need it. *grin*

C

Ryouma: I'm probably not going to call it the Tezuka Bar and Grill.

Me: Only because he'd kill you.

Setsuna: Hey, does the Tezuka Bar and Grill serve the Body and Blood of Christ?

Tezuka: ....

Ryouma: Stop that. He's fragile.

Comments Eight or ...Um Authors In A Silly Mood

L

[pets Astaroth]

Poor dear.

B

He's definitely getting the short end of the stick from everyone. Maybe we should give him some humans, too. Jyousei, perhaps? They're all crazy, and after Hanamura nothing Astaroth does will make any of them blink. He can trade tales of twin-woe with those two girl-boys.

L

And molest Kajimoto, too.

Tezuka: [to Kajimoto] Run. Run now.

B

*sparkles* You read my mind! I was thinking that the Head Boy Toy team captain does seem to be the... accommodating sort.

Kajimoto: *sprints*

Fuji: *trips him* Oops. So sorry about that. Now, was there something you ladies wanted with him?

Belial: *begging* Are you absolutely sure one can't have him?

Tezuka: *at end of rope* No, you can't have Fuji, because he's mine, damn it!

Fuji: *raises brows* I am?

Tezuka: *growls*

Ryouma: Ne, Fuji-senpai, I'll arm wrestle you for him.

Kajimoto: *still slightly winded* What is this place?

Tezuka: Hell.

Sanada: Worse. Care for a drink?

L

Em: He's not "the Bendy Buchou" in my head for nothing.

Kajimoto: ...I'll take that drink now, please. Make it a strong one.

Tezuka: Of course.

Fuji: [to Ryouma] Echizen, why so possessive? Have you learned nothing from Rikkai's example? We can share.

Belial: ;_; One wants him for one's collection so very much.

Ryouma: [reflecting] ...share, huh?

Tezuka: [pours himself a drink, too]

B

Ooo, that's right, he is flexible, isn't he? Well, that will go right along with Astaroth's personal Realm O' Bondage, Whips and Chains. *collapses in giggles* He can open a boutique! Right next to Tezuka's Bar and Grill. And Kajimoto can demonstrate the products.

Kajimoto: *turns pale*

Mizuki: *pats his shoulder* Now, don't worry too much. She's the nice one; she won't really hurt you.

Fuji: Much.

Mizuki: It's the other one you have to watch out for.

*distant look* He'd be really pretty in, say, some nice cuffs. A set of four.

Mizuki: ...maybe.

L

I was going to say... Mizuki, babe, you don't know us well at all.

Mizuki: Yes, but I do know that you enjoy having your heart twisted to shreds by angsty toys.

Everyone has a kink, dear.

Mizuki: Some of us prefer our kinks to be sane, and less painful than having our hearts pulled out through our noses and danced on.

Kajimoto: [waves empty glass] Refill please.

Sanada: Coming right up.

B

Fuji: Sane? *leans over Mizuki* Like, say, baiting someone you know likes to break people and then inviting him to break you?

Mizuki: *calmly* Like the Author said, everyone has their kinks.

Kajimoto: *hopefully* Can you give him to this Astaroth person, instead? Sounds like he'd enjoy it.

Not really, not when Tsuzuki's already taken an interest in him. Do you know what he gets like when someone in his protection is tied up by a psychopath?

Kajimoto: *gloomily* Fuck.

I can arrange that, yeah.

Sanada: Word of advice. Don't give this one straight lines like that.

Tezuka: Just remember, we'll be here for you when it's over.

Kajimoto: *glassy-eyed*