InsaneJournal

[Fic]Gather, Chapter 9, Patterns
Title: Gather
Chapter Nine: Patterns
Disclaimer: Not mine
Rating: G
Pairings: Implied Tezufuji, past TachiFuji and FujiSae, GP, Inukai
Summary: Yuuta helps some of Seigaku decipher Fuji's patterns. Fuji is displeased.
A/N: Inspired by some Tachibana flashbacks in Genius 311 wherein he looks exactly like Saeki. Anybody else think Konomi started running out of character designs?


Yuuta could not remember the last time he’d laughed this hard. Originally, he only sat with his brother because Mizuki-san was being weird and touchy again. Mizuki-san had attempted to join the clique, but gave up with a scream that rivaled Akazawa-buchou’s after the fourth time Aniki forgot his name. Yuuta just considered himself lucky Tezuka had been summoned to a meeting with the other coaches so Aniki remembered he existed. However, he’d forgotten that one of the few benefits to hanging out with Aniki and his Seigaku friends was that some of them could really twist Syusuke’s shorts in a knot.

“Nyah, Fujiko,” Kikumaru whined. “I’m just saying when you see them standing next to each other--”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Eiji.” Aniki was pissed, but smiling and sipping at his water bottle like nothing was wrong.

“Probability that Fuji is well aware of his own patterns: 97 percent.” Inui made some tick marks in his notebook.

Aniki shot him one of his infamous lazer stares. “I do not have patterns.”

“Everyone has patterns, Fuji. The data doesn’t lie.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Kikumaru said quickly. “Really I’d never have thought of it if they weren’t both standing next to each other at dismissal yesterday--”

“Tezuka and Saeki do not have the same hair cut!” Syusuke snapped. Yuuta couldn’t help but double over again. Very few people could annoy his aniki to this degree. He gained a new respect for both Kikumura and Inui.

“But it falls exactly the same around the face,” Kikumaru pointed out. “And they both keep it short in the back.”

“It’s completely different.” Aniki attempted to return to his pre-made bento, stabbing at a roll.

Yuuta knew he’d have to watch for traps during his visits for the next couple months, but he couldn’t resist adding his own information. “Tachibana used to have the same hair cut.”

Syusuke whipped around to glower at Yuuta. Maybe more than a couple of months. Kikumaru looked at him, wide-eyed. He’d probably just noticed Yuuta was there. “He did? Nyah, Fujiko! You never told me that!”

“We don’t discuss that time, Eiji,” Syusuke seethed.

“Tachibana’s hair had 10 percent more volume than either Tezuka or Saeki, but the length is very similar.”

“They broke up right after he cut it,” Yuuta added, ignoring his aniki’s fierce glare.

“We broke up because he was rebounding from some guy from Shitenhouji. His hair was completely irrelevant.” Yuuta swore he could feel a burning sensation near his jugular. Still, he’d lived with Aniki long enough to avoid most of his plots.

Inui meanwhile had been adding up columns of numbers, occasionally muttering to himself. “All three have similar color tones as well. Interesting.”

“Not interesting. They’re completely different.”

“Really Saeki isn’t blonde,” Kikumaru pointed out. The acrobatics specialist looked more than a little wary and eager to soothe his friend’s wrath. “His hair’s more white.”

“Platinum,” Inui insisted.

“Saeki shouldn’t even count. We were six!”

Inui made a few more scribbles. “It just proves how early this fixation began.”

“I do not have a fixation!” Yuuta caught a glimpse of Fuji repositioning his hold on his chopsticks. He now held them like they had seen a kung fu master in a movie do right before he used them to disembowel a henchman. Yuuta kept snickering, but poised his feet to bolt for the nearest exit if necessary.

“One hundred percent conformity to the patterns in an eight year period. I believe, Fuji, that your preferences are by now well-established.”

“That’s it!” Fuji slammed one hand on the table, flying to his feet and earning the attention of most of the other occupants of the cafeteria. He pointed his chopsticks at Inui. “Ex-boyfriend with a penchant for bowl-cuts. Current boyfriend who hides his hair under a bandana half the time.”

“48 percent,” Inui corrected. “He is not permitted to wear it during school or at home and does not wear it while asleep.”

“And I respect people’s privacy enough to not ask you how you know that.”

Yuuta couldn’t help but snort at this comment, making Fuji whirl on him. “You spend all your time with a manager who has enough wax in his hair to polish this cafeteria floor for the rest of the year.”

Yuuta jumped, “Hey, I’m not dating Mizuki-san.”

“And it better stay that way. And as for you, Eiji” --Fuji snapped around to a half-amused and half-startled Kikumaru -- “I respect Oishi a great deal, but his head bears a certain resemblance to an eight-ball with fangs.”

Kikumaru gave into the giggles, “Well, yeah, but in a cute way!”

“And you are certainly entitled to your opinion. But none of you are permitted to question my personal preferences in hair style.” Fuji smoothed his jersey, seemingly oblivious to the gaping jaws around the room, some of which belonged to people involved in the rant. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going up to my room to finish lunch. And I’d like to remind you all that I know where each of you sleep and where you keep your hair products.” He smiled beatifically down at them, picked up his bento and headed for the door.

“Ne, Inui, he wouldn’t warn us if he was really going to do something to our shampoo, right?” Kikumaru asked, tugging nervously on one lock of red hair as if the tensai could have already gotten to it.

“Actually,” Yuuta interjected, “his favorite trick is to warn you he’s going to do something, watch you set up every precaution, and then manage to pull it off anyway.”

Inui nodded, confirming Yuuta’s statement. “As you have the most experience in such affairs, what do you suggest as the best method for avoiding this particular vengeance.”

A smirk crossed Yuuta’s face. “Steal Tezuka’s shampoo. He wouldn’t dare touch that.”