Because God Said No
Title: Because God Said No
Genre: Humor
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Momoshiro&Ryoma, Seigaku
Summary: They’ve all left life behind, but whoever knew what came after could be so hectic? Told by Echizen Ryoma to Momoshiro.
Because God Said No
There were so many stories and theories about dying that if one were to try and sort through them all for the one that made the most sense one would probably end up dead from pure confusion. Thus it was that Momoshiro had never bothered to do much thinking about it. After all, one of these days he would be there and that was when he’d know, trying to find out early was just plain stupid-not to mention one hell of a waste of time. Still, now that he was there, he could only say that he was not impressed.
Being told he had not been an evil man during his lifetime was…well, relieving was the only thing that he could think of, but it wasn’t as though he had been worried about it so it wasn’t exactly relief. It was just that no one ever wanted to hear they were something other than good, so it was only natural that when the people with the authority to really say one way or the other chose said desired speech. But that wasn’t the problem, no…the problem was that there were lines. Huge, long ones.
There was the waiting line where the new arrivals waited. This wound amidst circles of plush armchairs where those weary of standing could sit. There was the line to an elevator of clouds that would lift one to the pearl white gates of heaven. That line was jittery and impatient, though filled with a happy excitement or a sense of weary peace. Not a bad thing over all, but man was it long. Then there was the line to hell. The world being what it had become, this line was the longest of them all, but no one in it was eager and feet shuffled up and down its length as people inched forward at the slowest possible speed that could still be termed as moving. And then there was the line for those who were either sentenced or chose reincarnation.
It was the shortest, and anyways, what was the point of going somewhere-no matter how nice-if it never changed? Granted, he really had no idea what heaven was like, who did? It was just that his parents had always gone on and on about how everything was perfect and he knew for a facet that perfect most probably meant boring.
So he stepped into the line back to earth and was reborn in Japan. He had gotten a preference since he was one who had chosen to go back, and they just so happened to have a place for him when he’d asked.
He did meet Echizen before he left though. Catching sight of his friend of many years, he had called out to him.
“Fancy seeing you here so soon,” he had commented, earning himself a pair of raised eyebrows.
“It’s been ten years you idiot, you lose track of time up here?”
“Well…um…” blinking, he had rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I guess all the waiting finally got to me. Nothing ever changes in purgatory apparently, so you just kind of…stop noticing.”
Echizen snorted, “Right. So you’re going back?”
“Yep. I think it’d be a lot more interesting than hanging around here. Everything moves so slowly. And you?”
“I think I’ll go up there if they let me,” was the offhanded reply. “After all, if God made tennis, he’s got to be one strong player, ne? I want a match.”
“With God?” Momo couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Well, good luck on that then. You’ll have to tell me about it one of these days.”
That said, Momoshiro had been ushered through the gates of reincarnation and back into the world of the living.
He didn’t know why, but some time when he was around twelve he started to get his memories back. It must have been a glitch when they’d sent him down, but he wasn’t going to complain. It was nice actually, even if it made him miss all the old faces and friends.
He had taken up tennis again, fighting his way to somewhere near the top before deciding he’d rather be a commentator. There must have been something in the water in hi previous life because their generation had definitely got a greater share of the talent than the new waves. Still, it was always exciting to see a good match between people who really cared and would fight to the very last minute even when there was no hope. It was the spirit that mattered in the end after all, not the skill. Super strong snobs only ever made one want to see them creamed.
As the years passed, he thought more and more about the old team, and the longing to see them-or at least hear about them-grew stronger. He visited Seigaku several times whenever he wasn’t abroad, remembering how it had felt to be the one in the uniform, training on the court with a team that had become a second family. It made him smile to find out that the team was still remembered as legends in Seishun Gakuen’s tennis club. It was a pity he’d have to wait a while more before he got to tell them that.
Upon returning to his apartment that day, he’d found himself proven wrong.
“You’re back!” he exclaimed in surprise, shutting the door and walking over to sit down at his desk before proceeding with his examination of his visitor. “Did something happen?”
Shrugging, his visitor only tugged nonchalantly at his cap brim as he leaned back in the plush armchair he had claimed, “Not really. It was just boring up there.”
“Boring?” Momo raised his eyebrows in surprise-even if he really wasn’t all that taken aback. “How could heaven be boring?”
Another shrug answered his question, “God wouldn’t have a match with me.”
“Oh,” nodding sympathetically, Momo tilted his head slightly to one side, “I’m sorry to hear that. So how’re the others?”
“Oishi-sempai’s working with the health department. I think he’s in the branch that catalogues and monitors diseases and pandemics. He also helps prod scientists in the right direction for cures. Kikumaru-sempai takes care of the animals.”
“The animals…” Momo repeated dubiously.
“They die too, and it’s apparently a lot easier for them to end up in heaven than it is for the rest of us. Someone’s got to care for them. Then there’s Taka-san. They asked him what he wanted to do and apparently he chose to keep making sushi because he wants to become even better at it than he was. He’s also started learning how to make other kinds of food. I guess he just likes to cook. He’s got half of heaven drooling for the feasts he sets up every few weeks.”
“And Fuji-sempai?”
“Fuji-sempai snuck into hell.”
“Snuck?” he asked, recalling how the tensai had always seemed a bit…sadistic, especially when it came to Inui’s notorious vegetable juices. They didn’t send him there?”
“They were actually sending him to heaven,” Ryoma shrugged, tugging at his cap. “But I think he was curious or something-he did say he didn’t want to get reincarnated because there was all that unexplored territory out there-so he ducked in when they weren’t looking. I don’t think they’re used to trying to keep people out.”
Momo laughed, “That’s just like Fuji-sempai. So what happened?”
“They couldn’t keep track of him. Hell had an uproar when he started playing pranks down there. I think that Lucifer guy actually sent a memo up asking for him to be removed. That’s when we up there finally found out exactly where he was.”
“Wow,” Momo let out a whistle, “that sounds kind of unorganized, doesn’t it?”
“Well, nothing’s perfect. You want to hear this or not?”
“Of course!”
“Then stop interrupting,” the smaller boy snapped. “Anyways, Tezuka-buchou wasn’t happy when he heard the news-you know, he’s already been promoted four times. They all think he’ll make archangel soon. So he goes and obtains permission to go fetch Fuji-sempai. Kikumaru-sempai was all for letting Fuji wreak havoc because it was funny, but Buchou made him run laps.”
“Laps? Around what?”
“You didn’t think Buchou would have chosen to go somewhere without tennis courts did you? And what did I say about not interrupting?”
“Sorry.”
“So he flies down there-”
Momo opened his mouth to ask how in the world Tezuka could have flown, but Ryoma shot him a hard glare and he snapped his jaws together. This was too good of a story to forgo.
“-and according to the rumors he challenged Fuji-sempai to a match. Something about it being the fastest way to solve the problem. I think Fuji-sempai agreed-you could hear the spectators all the way up in heaven if you were near the gate and listening hard enough. Inui-sempai was the only one who got to see it though since he’s working in the Records room.”
Ryoma fell silent as though remembering. Finally, Momo ventured to ask the question that was gnawing at him with the sharp teeth of curiosity.
“So who won?”
“Buchou.”
“And?”
“Fuji-sempai’s up in heaven now-they think he’ll do less damage there-and all the underworld people are trying to learn tennis.”
“…Huh?”
“Everyone in hell wants to learn tennis,” Ryoma repeated, “or the one’s who aren’t being punished anyway, and since some of the higher-ups now think it’s a good way to solve problems…well, let’s just say there’s going to be some most unusual tournaments in another century or so.”
“Sounds cool,” Momoshiro grinned, “but aren’t you going to join? I mean, there’re bound to be some interesting opponents-heck, I’m starting to wish I get there in time!”
“Of course,” tugging the brim of his hat to the back of his head, Ryoma awarded his old friend with a cocky smirk, “but a century’s a bit long to just sit around and wait for a tournament, even with the rest of the team around. We’ve agreed not to play each other again until then so we can develop new stuff and give each other a few surprises.”
“So you’re all training separately? Even Oishi-sempai and Kikumari-sempai?”
“Well, they’re entering the doubles part of the tournament, so not really. But mostly that sounds about right.”
Nodding, Momo paused suddenly as a thought struck him, “I’m glad you’re here and all, but if you’re supposed to be training for some world-beyond-death tournament, what’re you doing here?”
Ryoma was grinning now as a distinctly wicked gleam appeared in his eyes, “I’ve decided to be a monitor-you know, someone who travels the world seeing if all you mortals are being good. So you better be on your best behavior because something tells me you’re going to be seeing a lot of me for the next few years-especially when you’re least expecting it. Trust me, I’ll know exactly when that is.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Watch me.”
“You haven’t changed a bit, you know that?”
“Mada mada dane.”
~Owari
Genre: Humor
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Momoshiro&Ryoma, Seigaku
Summary: They’ve all left life behind, but whoever knew what came after could be so hectic? Told by Echizen Ryoma to Momoshiro.
Because God Said No
There were so many stories and theories about dying that if one were to try and sort through them all for the one that made the most sense one would probably end up dead from pure confusion. Thus it was that Momoshiro had never bothered to do much thinking about it. After all, one of these days he would be there and that was when he’d know, trying to find out early was just plain stupid-not to mention one hell of a waste of time. Still, now that he was there, he could only say that he was not impressed.
Being told he had not been an evil man during his lifetime was…well, relieving was the only thing that he could think of, but it wasn’t as though he had been worried about it so it wasn’t exactly relief. It was just that no one ever wanted to hear they were something other than good, so it was only natural that when the people with the authority to really say one way or the other chose said desired speech. But that wasn’t the problem, no…the problem was that there were lines. Huge, long ones.
There was the waiting line where the new arrivals waited. This wound amidst circles of plush armchairs where those weary of standing could sit. There was the line to an elevator of clouds that would lift one to the pearl white gates of heaven. That line was jittery and impatient, though filled with a happy excitement or a sense of weary peace. Not a bad thing over all, but man was it long. Then there was the line to hell. The world being what it had become, this line was the longest of them all, but no one in it was eager and feet shuffled up and down its length as people inched forward at the slowest possible speed that could still be termed as moving. And then there was the line for those who were either sentenced or chose reincarnation.
It was the shortest, and anyways, what was the point of going somewhere-no matter how nice-if it never changed? Granted, he really had no idea what heaven was like, who did? It was just that his parents had always gone on and on about how everything was perfect and he knew for a facet that perfect most probably meant boring.
So he stepped into the line back to earth and was reborn in Japan. He had gotten a preference since he was one who had chosen to go back, and they just so happened to have a place for him when he’d asked.
He did meet Echizen before he left though. Catching sight of his friend of many years, he had called out to him.
“Fancy seeing you here so soon,” he had commented, earning himself a pair of raised eyebrows.
“It’s been ten years you idiot, you lose track of time up here?”
“Well…um…” blinking, he had rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I guess all the waiting finally got to me. Nothing ever changes in purgatory apparently, so you just kind of…stop noticing.”
Echizen snorted, “Right. So you’re going back?”
“Yep. I think it’d be a lot more interesting than hanging around here. Everything moves so slowly. And you?”
“I think I’ll go up there if they let me,” was the offhanded reply. “After all, if God made tennis, he’s got to be one strong player, ne? I want a match.”
“With God?” Momo couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Well, good luck on that then. You’ll have to tell me about it one of these days.”
That said, Momoshiro had been ushered through the gates of reincarnation and back into the world of the living.
He didn’t know why, but some time when he was around twelve he started to get his memories back. It must have been a glitch when they’d sent him down, but he wasn’t going to complain. It was nice actually, even if it made him miss all the old faces and friends.
He had taken up tennis again, fighting his way to somewhere near the top before deciding he’d rather be a commentator. There must have been something in the water in hi previous life because their generation had definitely got a greater share of the talent than the new waves. Still, it was always exciting to see a good match between people who really cared and would fight to the very last minute even when there was no hope. It was the spirit that mattered in the end after all, not the skill. Super strong snobs only ever made one want to see them creamed.
As the years passed, he thought more and more about the old team, and the longing to see them-or at least hear about them-grew stronger. He visited Seigaku several times whenever he wasn’t abroad, remembering how it had felt to be the one in the uniform, training on the court with a team that had become a second family. It made him smile to find out that the team was still remembered as legends in Seishun Gakuen’s tennis club. It was a pity he’d have to wait a while more before he got to tell them that.
Upon returning to his apartment that day, he’d found himself proven wrong.
“You’re back!” he exclaimed in surprise, shutting the door and walking over to sit down at his desk before proceeding with his examination of his visitor. “Did something happen?”
Shrugging, his visitor only tugged nonchalantly at his cap brim as he leaned back in the plush armchair he had claimed, “Not really. It was just boring up there.”
“Boring?” Momo raised his eyebrows in surprise-even if he really wasn’t all that taken aback. “How could heaven be boring?”
Another shrug answered his question, “God wouldn’t have a match with me.”
“Oh,” nodding sympathetically, Momo tilted his head slightly to one side, “I’m sorry to hear that. So how’re the others?”
“Oishi-sempai’s working with the health department. I think he’s in the branch that catalogues and monitors diseases and pandemics. He also helps prod scientists in the right direction for cures. Kikumaru-sempai takes care of the animals.”
“The animals…” Momo repeated dubiously.
“They die too, and it’s apparently a lot easier for them to end up in heaven than it is for the rest of us. Someone’s got to care for them. Then there’s Taka-san. They asked him what he wanted to do and apparently he chose to keep making sushi because he wants to become even better at it than he was. He’s also started learning how to make other kinds of food. I guess he just likes to cook. He’s got half of heaven drooling for the feasts he sets up every few weeks.”
“And Fuji-sempai?”
“Fuji-sempai snuck into hell.”
“Snuck?” he asked, recalling how the tensai had always seemed a bit…sadistic, especially when it came to Inui’s notorious vegetable juices. They didn’t send him there?”
“They were actually sending him to heaven,” Ryoma shrugged, tugging at his cap. “But I think he was curious or something-he did say he didn’t want to get reincarnated because there was all that unexplored territory out there-so he ducked in when they weren’t looking. I don’t think they’re used to trying to keep people out.”
Momo laughed, “That’s just like Fuji-sempai. So what happened?”
“They couldn’t keep track of him. Hell had an uproar when he started playing pranks down there. I think that Lucifer guy actually sent a memo up asking for him to be removed. That’s when we up there finally found out exactly where he was.”
“Wow,” Momo let out a whistle, “that sounds kind of unorganized, doesn’t it?”
“Well, nothing’s perfect. You want to hear this or not?”
“Of course!”
“Then stop interrupting,” the smaller boy snapped. “Anyways, Tezuka-buchou wasn’t happy when he heard the news-you know, he’s already been promoted four times. They all think he’ll make archangel soon. So he goes and obtains permission to go fetch Fuji-sempai. Kikumaru-sempai was all for letting Fuji wreak havoc because it was funny, but Buchou made him run laps.”
“Laps? Around what?”
“You didn’t think Buchou would have chosen to go somewhere without tennis courts did you? And what did I say about not interrupting?”
“Sorry.”
“So he flies down there-”
Momo opened his mouth to ask how in the world Tezuka could have flown, but Ryoma shot him a hard glare and he snapped his jaws together. This was too good of a story to forgo.
“-and according to the rumors he challenged Fuji-sempai to a match. Something about it being the fastest way to solve the problem. I think Fuji-sempai agreed-you could hear the spectators all the way up in heaven if you were near the gate and listening hard enough. Inui-sempai was the only one who got to see it though since he’s working in the Records room.”
Ryoma fell silent as though remembering. Finally, Momo ventured to ask the question that was gnawing at him with the sharp teeth of curiosity.
“So who won?”
“Buchou.”
“And?”
“Fuji-sempai’s up in heaven now-they think he’ll do less damage there-and all the underworld people are trying to learn tennis.”
“…Huh?”
“Everyone in hell wants to learn tennis,” Ryoma repeated, “or the one’s who aren’t being punished anyway, and since some of the higher-ups now think it’s a good way to solve problems…well, let’s just say there’s going to be some most unusual tournaments in another century or so.”
“Sounds cool,” Momoshiro grinned, “but aren’t you going to join? I mean, there’re bound to be some interesting opponents-heck, I’m starting to wish I get there in time!”
“Of course,” tugging the brim of his hat to the back of his head, Ryoma awarded his old friend with a cocky smirk, “but a century’s a bit long to just sit around and wait for a tournament, even with the rest of the team around. We’ve agreed not to play each other again until then so we can develop new stuff and give each other a few surprises.”
“So you’re all training separately? Even Oishi-sempai and Kikumari-sempai?”
“Well, they’re entering the doubles part of the tournament, so not really. But mostly that sounds about right.”
Nodding, Momo paused suddenly as a thought struck him, “I’m glad you’re here and all, but if you’re supposed to be training for some world-beyond-death tournament, what’re you doing here?”
Ryoma was grinning now as a distinctly wicked gleam appeared in his eyes, “I’ve decided to be a monitor-you know, someone who travels the world seeing if all you mortals are being good. So you better be on your best behavior because something tells me you’re going to be seeing a lot of me for the next few years-especially when you’re least expecting it. Trust me, I’ll know exactly when that is.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Watch me.”
“You haven’t changed a bit, you know that?”
“Mada mada dane.”
~Owari