RP Log: Kirihara Akaya & Hiyoshi Wakashi

[devilalamode]

Rating: PG for violence
When: The day before Hiyoshi and Atobe left to hunt.
Where: The beach near the tennis courts.
Summary: Kirihara and Piyoshi Hiyoshi have a match and all hell breaks loose, as usual with these two.



Kirihara let out a whoop of victory when the last ball slammed past Hiyoshi. So far, Rikkai had a perfect win record over Hyotei and Kirihara intended for that to continue to be the case. He wore a knowing smirk on his lips as he strode over to the net, green eyes already sparkling with menacing laughter. “Mmm, Hiyoshi-buchou, nice try but it looks like Hyotei still has a few things to work on.” His tone sounded cheerful enough, but anyone who knew the demon of Rikkai’s true side knew better then to trust him on just words alone.

A hand came across the net, the other one, pinning his racket under his arm as he waited for Hiyoshi to take it.

Gritting his teeth Hiyoshi brushed sweaty bangs out of his face to reveal the edge of the bruise still healing on his forehead from headbutting Kirihara before gingerly making his way over to the net and shaking that offered hand. “I’ll beat you next time.” He announced with the completely serious determination that had brought him as far as it had while giving Kirihara’s sweaty hand a firm squeeze. At the start of the match it had looked like he might even win, taking the first time games before Kirihara had caught up and then surpassed him in five straight sets. “When I get back.”

“Oh yeah, you’re little date with Atobe?” Kirihara squeezed the sweaty hand in his tightly and gave it a firm shake. He let out a small laugh, actions cordial but words biting. If Atobe thought he could take Hiyoshi off and pass some great knowledge to him while they trekked the wilderness he was an idiot. Atobe didn’t have any wisdom to pass on, and even if he did, it wasn’t going to do Hiyoshi any good.

Hiyoshi gave Kirihara a bland look the shook his head and tugged his hand free to rub against the side of his pants. “Not everything I do is related to dating.” He corrected sharply. In fact, absolutely nothing was, much to Ohtori’s concern and Shishido’s amusement. “So stop trying to act as if I was trying to get into the pants of every captain on this island.”

Kirihara only shrugged, looking down at their hands before pulling away like he’d been touching fire. “No need to get defensive, Hiyoshi.” He let out a short laugh and reached to wipe sweaty curls off of his forehead. “Since I won, I think you owe me a favor.” Ground rules hadn’t been laid out before the game, but it didn’t mean that Kirihara wasn’t going to take full advantage of the other captain now.

“A favour.” Echoing the other young man Hiyoshi frowned doubtfully. “And what kind of favour do you want?” If it was something too ridiculous he could always refuse it after hearing Kirihara out he reasoned, curious despite himself. “And I’m not defensive.”

“You’re defensive.” Kirihara stretched his racket over his head and dipped side to side to crack his back. “And yeah, you heard me. A favor, loser.” He reached over the net with his racket to prod at the rosy color of a healing bruise over Hiyoshi’s eye. “Get us lunch.” After all, he’d worked up quite the appetite handing Hiyoshi’s ass to him in a game of tennis.

Batting Kirihara’s racket away before it could reach his head Hiyoshi continued to frown. “Fine. I’ll get lunch. And I’m not defensive unless somebody is trying to pimp me out.” Reaching up he combed his fringe back over the healing lump on his forehead. “Fish and rice ok?”

“Pimp you out?” An awful picture formed in Kirihara’s mind that included Hiyoshi in something scandalous and Atobe in purple velvet and feathers. He shook his head as if to push away the thought and then withdrew his racket and nodded to Hiyoshi’s lunch menu. “Something to drink too.” Might as well enjoy having Hiyoshi for a slave for the next few moments.

Che. Hiyoshi grumbled a little under his breath but trotted off to pile two coconut halves with dried fish and some of the rice that was boiled every morning, a spoonfull of some kind of root-y vegetable broth rounding everything up. Tucking two bottle of water under his arm he carried everything back to the tennis courts, cursing the fact that some brilliant idiot had decided to build them on the completely other side of the island.

By the time Hiyoshi came back Kirihara was spread out in the sand, sunning himself. “Took you long enough.” He gave Hiyoshi a nod and reached up for a water as he hoisted himself to sitting. He took a long drink and then proceeded to dump the rest of it over his head. If all victories over Hyoutei were going to end like this he was going to have to challenge Hiyoshi more often. Rikkai’s buchou mused for a moment about what he could make the other man do for him after the next win.

“I would have been faster if you hadn’t tried to cripple me.” Hiyoshi grumped and took his own seat not quite next to Kirihara but close enough that they could still talk comfortably. “Next time you can get your own again.” Opening his own bottle he took a long drink before primly setting it down at his side and picking up the spoon halfway buried under rice and fish to start digging into the food.

“That was an accident.” Kirihara claimed, “And you walked right into that last ball. Totally not my fault.” He reached over taking his own coconut shell so he could dig in. The fish and rice were boring, but that wasn’t really Hiyoshi’s fault, it was pretty much all the island had to offer so far. His hungry belly wasn’t complaining as much as his mouth was.

“So when I win our next set, what are you going to do for me?” He took a mouthful of rice and chewed, winning tennis and having a slave sounded like a great thing to him.

“If you win.” Hiyoshi correct automatically after swallowing a spectacularly tasteless piece of fish. “Which you won’t. Besides why should I do anything for you.” He glanced over and gave Kirihara a shrewed look from under his fringe. “Or would you do it when I win?”

“When.” Kirihara had practically inhaled his lunch and was already setting it aside. “I took five in a row from you, Hiyoshi.” He laughed and looked at his empty water bottle. Dumping it over his head had felt good at the time but it wasn’t doing much for his thirst. Hiyoshi had just put his bottle back into the sand, and no sooner had he done that was Akaya snatching it.

“Thanks mushroom head.” He laughed, finishing it off. “Think of it as a pre-gift for my next win.” He grinned.

“I won the first....” Hiyoshi interrupted himself and scowled at Kirihara as the rest of his water disappeared down the other teen’s throat and made a face at it. “That was my bottle.” He grumbled, snatching it back once Kirihara was done with it and rubbing the plastic lip clean of any germs the seaweed headed boy might have left. “Didn’t anybody ever teach you manners - or basic hygiene?”

Kirihara only rolled his eyes at Hiyoshi. “The only germs your gonna get from me are ones that might help you with your tennis skills.” The mophead knew what he just said sounded kind of stupid, but he didn’t care, it was true and in his hardheaded opinion Hiyoshi needed all the help he could get.

“You only won a few games just because I was feeling you out.” He snatched the bottle back, taking another drink and effectively contaminated the bottle again before shoving it back into Hiyoshi’s hand.

“Germs have nothing to do with tennis.” Idiot Hiyoshi added silently, giving the bottle a wary look as if it might get him whatever Kirihara had to make him so stupid. “Then what about the other three games. You only won 7-5 after all.” He tried to defend himself but it didn’t sound very convincing even to his own ears - a loss was a loss and if Atobe got win of this one he might very well decide to give the captaincy to somebody else more deserving, like Ohtori maybe. “Anyways I’ll win next time.” He gripped the bottle tighter, voice sure with determination.

“Yeah right.” Kirihara shook his head and narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t the first time someone on the island had called him an idiot. It didn’t bother him so much when it was someone from Rikkai but Hiyoshi doing it kind of irked him. He’d let it roll off his back for now, what Hiyoshi thought didn’t matter. “And you got lucky.” He reasoned. It had been a good game, he’d enjoyed the challenge but it didn’t make him any less confident in his own ability.

“Are you gonna finish that water, or are you scared of cooties?” The side of Kirihara’s mouth pulled up into a knowing smirk, one Hiyoshi was probably used to by now.

“I’m not scared.” Bristling silently Hiyoshi gave the mouth of the bottle a quick wipe then took a sip of his own. “I just don’t want your spit.” That would be almost as bad as kissing the other teen and, glancing over at Kirihara’s lips, Hiyoshi shuddered at the thought - gross in far too many ways to count.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He pointed out after swallowing a tepid mouthful of water. “Are you going to do something for me when I win.”

“If my spit was anywhere, its in the bottle.” Kirihara laid back down in the sand and stretched out. “And yeah, I will, but you aren’t going to win.” He rolled on his stomach, back curving as he rose up on his elbows to look out into the sea.

Great. Hiyoshi wrinkled his nose and gave the bottle an unhappy look before putting it down again. “I am going to win.” No matter how long it took, sooner or later he would get there - if they didn’t get rescued in the meantime. “Fine. I’ll do something if you win then too.” He agreed reluctantly - it was only fair after all.

“Good, I’ll need someone to get me dinner.” He smirked, throwing Hiyoshi another knowing look, green eyes then dropping to the abandoned bottle. “You really are a chicken,” He nodded to the bottle. “Afraid of a few little germs.” He goaded Hiyoshi on.

Rolling his eyes at Kirihara Hiyoshi crossed his arms over his chest. We’ll see if you actually win first - and “I don’t want to drink your spit.” He grumbled, frustrated at the other teen’s continued teasing. “That’s disgusting - just like kissing.” He threw in despite somehow knowing that Kirihara would only get on his nerves about that either. What was it that Oshitari had blathered about indirect kisses at once?

“Oh yeah, you and your virgin lips.” Kirihara teased, not that he was one to talk, he’d never kissed anyone -- not on the lips at least. “Is that what you’re going to ask me for if you win?” He laughed, looking quite smug with himself as he dropped back into the sand, enjoying the warmth of the sun beating down on his tanned skin.

Hiyoshi’s reaction would be interesting.

There it was - just like he thought it would. Hiyoshi scrunchedhis face up at the idea. “Like I’d want you to kiss me.” He stretched his legs out and let his toes dig into the warm sand and frowned. “And what kind of pervert would ask for something like that.” Well...Shishido maybe, if he played Ohtori - Hiyoshi was reasonably sure that there was nothing perverted that Shishido WOULDN’T do to his friend, who would enjoy it in all likelihood. Shaking his head vehemently he willed the heat in his cheeks away and scowled at Kirihara. “I bet you’d like it if I did though.” Especially considering that Kirihara had threatened to kiss him against his will that night at the party.

“Che, you wish.” Kirihara flicked sand over in Hiyoshi’s direction and looked over his shoulder at the other boy. Was he blushing? This was rich! “Getting hot just thinking about it, Hiyoshi? I guess that does make you the pervert after all.” Subconsciously, Kirihara flicked his tongue across his lips, still trying to get used to the salty taste the ocean air seemed to give them since they arrived on the island. “It’s not gonna happen, you better keep a hold of that bottle because its the closest you’re getting to these.” He pointed to his own mouth.

“Idiot!” Hiyoshi jumped up and shot a flustered glare at Kirihara then glanced at the bottle. Picking it up he dumped the remaining water over the reclining teen before dropping it on his head. “Keep it - I’d only have to burn it.” He scowled and leaned down to scoop up his coconut shell. “I’m going somewhere with less stupid to eat.”

Kirihara jumped up the moment cool water hit his skin. “What the hell!” He took the bottle and threw it after Hiyoshi’s retreating back -- it didn’t do much damage being empty. “You can’t get away from yourself.” He taunted, feeling highly amused at how easy it was to get under Hiyoshi’s skin.

“I’m not the one who TRIED to kiss me.” Hiyoshi caught the bottle, tempted to chuck it back at Kirihara but reigning himself in. “So maybe I’m a virgin but at least I don’t have to sexually harass other guys.”

Kirihara rolled his eyes at that. “Oh whatever, you keep bringing it up.” This guy really was an idiot, almost a bigger idiot then Atobe was so in a way it seemed pretty obvious why he’d been chosen as his successor. Kirihara hadn’t really wanted to kiss Hiyoshi (or so he thought), he had just done it to piss him off.

“I only bring it up because you keep doing stuff like this.” Waving the bottle at Kirihara Hiyoshi scowled. “And for your information I wouldn’t want to kiss you if you were the last person on earth - and if I absolutely had to I would kiss EVERYBODY else before doing it with you.” He gave the seaweed head a look of righteous indignation.

Kirihara just laughed, Hiyoshi was too easy. “Sure, whatever you say.” He picked up his coconut shell and walked over to Hiyoshi to pluck the water bottle out of his hand. Hiyoshi looked like he was ready to blow and Kirihara would have loved to push him over the edge if he could. It was a fun game, seeing how far he could push the uptight captain.

“All this talk of kissing and the heavy denial makes me think you might be bluffing.” He tapped Hiyoshi in the side of the head with the empty bottle before giving it back to him. “Keep dreaming, Hyoutei.”

Gripping the bottle firmly enough to virtually crush it Hiyoshi gritted his teeth. “My NAME is Hiyoshi.” He growled, reminded of the very first time they had spoken during their second year in Junior High, the past annoyance coming back to join and bolster what he was currently feeling. “That shouldn’t be too hard to remember even for an idiot like you.” His pride urged him to tell Kirihara that he would never ever dream anything that had to do with the seaweed head beyond his complete and utter defeat at Hiyoshi’s hands but somehow he knew it would only pour fire into the oil of Kirihara’s little game so instead he snapped. “I’m surprised you even know what bluffing means, though I guess gambling makes more sense on the Rikkai curriculum than anything sophisticated - like reading or writing.” Right now he really really wished Shishido had managed to find the time to teach him the way of bitchy comebacks, his own feeling woefully inadequate.

“Hum, whats that? Piyoshi?” Kirihara scooted just past Hiyoshi, who looked like he was about to blow. He completely ignored the stab at his education and the fact that he’d been called an idiot by three different people today now. “Yeah, we’re all just a bunch of ruffians.” He smirked, arms coming to cross over his chest, looking defiant but amused all at the same time.

“It’s Hiyoshi, and I’m glad that on top of being illiterate and unable to spell more than your OWN name you’re not also deluding yourself. “ Hiyoshi frowned at Kirihara’s smirk, his own arms crossing over his chest as well. “Your captain and vice captain can be glad they’re halfway good at tennis or they’d have to live on the street digging through my school’s trash.” Granted, that WAS low and he didn’t really have anything personally against Yukimura, and at least nothing effective against Sanada but Hiyoshi, aside from being beaten by Kirihara during their game, physically AND score wise had a treck through the forest with his own former captain ahead of himself and it all had put just that little bit too much strain on his temper.

“Just like I said, Piyo--” Kirhara didn’t finish his next smart mouthed remark back. You could insult him but dragging Sanada and Yukimura into it was a different story. He reached out, grabbing Hiyoshi by the collar, his strength almost a little frightening as he tugged him near. “Yukimura-buchou and Sanada-fukubuchou are ten times the tennis players you could even dream of being.” White teeth were bared as the curly haired teen jerked Hiyoshi around, that scary side of him surfacing for a moment before he cooled back down.

Hiyoshi and Hyoutei weren’t worth it. Settle it in tennis rang in his ears in his captain’s calm soothing voice. He closed green eyes and took in a deep breath before letting Hiyoshi go, giving him a firm shove hard enough to send Hiyoshi down onto the sand so that he could straddle and squat over him. “I’ll show you Rikkai’s tennis tonight and you’ll be sorry you made that remark.” Green eyes narrowed, focusing in on Hiyoshi, threatening to go bloodshot even as he tried to keep his temper in check. He had half a mind to reach down and add to that purple bruise on Hiyoshi’s brow but he refrained, fist curling and uncurling as he hovered over his cornered prey.

Honestly he had NOT been prepared for suddenly being grabbed as their word duel turned physical in the blink of an eye and Hiyoshi had to scowl at himself as Kirihara hovered over him. “Fine.” He glared back up at Kirihara, refusing to back down even when faced with the demonic temper flickering behind those green eyes, feeling as if anything it made him even bolder, the taste of violence in their making his heart beat faster in anticipation. “And I’m sure they’ll pet you on the head and tell you what a good little guard dog you are for defending their honour like that afterwards.”

“Fuck off, Piyoshi.” Kirihara hissed, feeling his left eye twitch and his blood boil as he tried to keep his temper in check. “Or go get yourself fucked, seems like you need it.” He bit down into his own lip, reaching down to thread fingers in not-so-perfect hair anymore to tug Hiyoshi upward. “I’ll destroy you tonight.” He promised, fingers itching to do a little more then just jerk Hiyoshi around.

“You’re a vile little, yappy lapdog.” Hiyoshi resisted the pull on his hair with something too close to glee for comfort, his eyes burning into Kirihara, completely ignoring the other boy’s threat in favour of goading him some more. “I bet you think you’re something special because you get to be on their team and they treat you like their little pet project.” He smirked sharply. “Like they CHOSE you - but you know what? It could have been anyone - maybe that Echizen brat if he hadn’t gone to Seigaku. I bet that captain and vice captain you worship so much would have LOVED to get their hands on him. Somebody with REAL potential and not some little wanna be who has to cripple people because it’s the only way he can win. But instead they got stuck with you so they had to do they best they could.”

Curses were spilling from Kirihara’s mouth now as he pulled harder at Hiyoshi’s hair, fingers twisting in the straight strands. Hiyoshi didn’t know anything about Rikkai or the team, he didn’t know anything about him and seeing that he couldn’t even beat him himself he had little ground to say much about his tennis. Rikkai had laws that nobody else could understand and Kirihara knew just as much as anyone who was lucky enough to make the team that there were no favorites, not if you didn’t measure up.

Sanada wouldn’t have wasted his time on the imp, and Yukimura wouldn’t have tolerated someone who wasn’t talented enough to bring something to their prestigious team. Hiyoshi was full of shit.

“Shut the fuck up.” Hiyoshi was talking out of desperation. Kirihara had him pinned to the sand and was in a position to mess him up if he chose to, the Hyoutei player must have realized that. “Its not my fault you get in the way of a ball and its not my fault you don’t know when to shut your mouth.” His jaw set tight and his heart pulsed at a dangerous rate even as the calm part of him urged him to walk away.

His pride, Rikkai’s pride was at stake though.

“Is that so.” Scoffing loudly Hiyoshi reached up and gripped Kirihara’s wrist to keep him from pulling out a fistful of his hair. “Is that what they told you or is that what you tell yourself.” He twisted his voice into an actual passable imitation of Kirihara’s nasal chirp. “It’s not my fault, it’s not my fault.” He scoffed again. “That’s pathetic. If you’re not good enough to win any other way at least admit it. You’re not one of them.” Neither was he but then Hiyoshi had known that for a long time. It was hard not to realize the difference between somebody like Atobe who had natural skill on top of hard work and somebody who had to struggle even for the slightest improvement like himself. “You’re not a Tezuka, Echizen or Yukimura. You’re not even on the same level as Sanada and he’s been beaten by two of those.” Yes Kirihara was good, but he was not that good in Hiyoshi’s mind and in an act of pure unadulterated sadism he relished rubbing the other second year’s face in it. “They’ll go on to be pros and if they ever bother to think back they might remember you as that foolish kid who deluded himself into believing he was one of them because they humoured him.”

Thwack! Blood everywhere and Hiyoshi with a broken bloodied nose...at least that was what Kirihara was picturing in his mind. His free fist was balled so tightly that his fingernails were digging neat little half moons into his palms, he’d probably have small bruises in their wake tomorrow. He held himself back, using violence would only prove one of Hiyoshi’s very stupid points right.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” He growled, deciding he wouldn’t dignify anything else Hiyoshi had said with any sort of acknowledgment. He didn’t. Hiyoshi didn’t know about the constant training, how close he’d come to beating Sanada so often now that he could almost taste victory. Kirihara might not have been there yet, but he didn’t lack the capacity.

Next year, he’d go pro.

“Like I said, tennis tonight,” He shoved Hiyoshi back into the sand and sat back. “Then talk to me about levels.” Green eyes burned as he stared Hiyoshi down with a look that said I dare you to get up because if you do, I’ll just put you right back down.

Hiyoshi just narrowed his eyes at Kirihara and smirked at him from his prone position under him - not in control right now but far from defeated. “Sure.” He almost drawled in a way he might have well picked up from Hyotei’s transfer tensai, the way that was a caress and an insult all wrapped into one. “But if it’s not better than the last game I’m not holding my breath.”

Kirihara glared for a few more long minutes before nodding. “Tonight I’ll make you regret every word.”

“So you’ve said.” If he’d been somewhat of an actor Hiyoshi would have done his best to look bored but instead he just looked flushed and almost eager for the game that night. “We’ll see if you actually have what it takes.” Releasing Kirihara’s wrists he let his hands fall to his sides, impossibly relaxed for somebody with a homicidal demon sitting on top of them.

“Six.” Was kirihara’s simple reply as he rose off of Hiyoshi, resisting the urge to rub at his wrists as he walked down the beach leaving Hiyoshi behind him for now.