Paved with Good Intentions (PoT, R, 4/?)

[aishuu]

Paved with Good Intentions
by surefall and aishuu
Disclaimer: Based on Prince of Tennis, by Konomi.
Notes: Crack fic at its most devilish. Let's take the horrid cliche of making the boys angels and devils and pump it full of semi-plotful sugar. Stir well.
Summary: In Which There is Tea, Houseguests of all Kinds, and the Damning of Mortals

First parts at quillofferings



Purgatory: The final frontier. These were the travels of the angel Yanagi, in his mission to...

Bad Star Trek jokes seemed to follow Yanagi ever since the character Spock had been developed. Yukimura teased him that it was his own fault for manifesting in Gene Roddenbury's dreams, but that's a different story The subject of today was Purgatory, and the mission was tea. With a devil. It was all out of a bad novel, and Yanagi was terrified what would happen if anyone found out. He did not need to be the subject of more bad religious epics.

Purgatory was not the baby-flames and gentle suffering those above believed it to be. Rather, it was more along the lines of the extreme stress and boredom of the Department of Motor Vehicles. Souls stood endlessly in line, waiting desperately for some attendant to fill some order they didn't know with a deadline they were sure was fast approaching or had expired six months ago. It was even decorated in that tacky pale yellow and puke green of the sixties in which the first and most lasting of these establishments had been created on earth.

There were a comfortable table and two chairs laid out in midair over a line of exceptionally bored and stressed looking souls. The table was laid with a homey-looking red and white checkered tablecloth, the chairs were white and black wrought iron, and the umbrella over the whole shebang was striped in white and blue. It was very Italian Bistro. Inui sat very comfortably on one of the chairs, pouring two cups of tea that had a dubious look to them, being one of his special blends (Inui Penal Tea to be specific, one of the milder concoctions in his repertoire).

"Good day, Yanagi. How are you? I hope the trip was without difficulty."

"No worse than usual." Descending from heaven wasn't a pleasant experience, since it pretty much meant giving up everything good and pure and having to come face-to-face with this nasty thing called reality, but Yanagi had learned to tolerate it. "Yours?"

Moving up had always been easier than moving down, though reality was often just as distasteful to devils as it was to angels. One was always so restricted outside of hell. "Quite acceptable," Inui replied, setting the teapot down and exchanging it for the sugar, which he spooned generously into his cup. Sugar added an additional kick to an already unstable collection of spices.

Yanagi considered Inui Juice one of the trials of his life. He'd learned through long experience that if he didn't partake, Inui would become obsessed with feeding him and the whole visit became a wash. It was a subtle challenge, and Yanagi knew enough not to back down. With a sigh, he added a lot of cream, hoping to dilute it. It meant he'd have to drink more, but hopefully it wouldn't be as potent as it was straight. Almost as an afterthought, he dumped in sugar, wondering if this time it would mask its taste. Hope sprang eternal, especially for the angelic.

"I hope you find the choice of beverage acceptable," Inui said, just to dig the knife in. He momentarily contemplated pulling out his notebook, a habit he knew he should consider dropping but was loathe to part with, before deciding it wasn't necessary, "Anything you wished to discuss, Renji?"

This was why they met. The two were the unofficial liaisons between heaven and hell, and their monthly tea sessions contained information exchanges and other business that helped keep things running smoothly. Occasionally messages would be passed through them, but that was more rare.

Yanagi tended to prepare a list of matters to discuss, and he knew Inui did the same. Both were methodically - some would say obsessively - organized. "I'm curious about your Kirihara. And Echizen... both of them seem to be toying in some chancy business."

Inui weighed the benefits of sharing information on the two and finally decided that it was beneficial to him if he could then use it to find out what Sengoku was doing, "Echizen seems to have gotten distracted. Originally, his intent was to interfere with Kirihara, who was on a standard 'class damning' mission before he ran into Sengoku. I do not suppose you have any information in regards to why he would be involved?"

"Sengoku has always defied all of our predictions," Yanagi said calmly. "He tends to do whatever he wants, and gets away with it. I've tried speaking to Sanada and Yukimura alone, but they told me to let that sleeping dog lie."

It had been worth a try. Inui took a sip of his tea, leaning back. "It's come to my attention that Sanada has been called back. I admit to being curious about the why of that."

Yanagi hated having to supply this kind of vulnerable tactical information, but he knew it was part of the game. "It's your Kikumaru's fault," he said.

"Ah," Inui nodded briefly. It made sense that the possible fallout of another Oishi/Kikumaru confrontation would demand archangel intervention, though usually it was Tezuka who handled things concerning Oishi. He said at much. "Is that not usually Tezuka's domain?"

"That hasn't changed. However, with Tezuka gone, we're short staffed in Heaven, so..." Yanagi stared at his cup, swishing the liquid around. Were those bugs eyes floating in it? "It's a personnel restructuring. Sanada said to tell you to warn Niou that if he messed with Florida again in the next century, he was going to chop his ponytail off."

Inui chuckled, more than happy to watch his colleague lose that precious ponytail of his. "I do not know, I think he might be cuter without that rat's tail dragging -- wait, you said Tezuka was gone?"

"Yes... that's not entirely unprecedented - he pretty much goes down and fishes Oishi out every time Kikumaru finds him." Yanagi managed to sound dry and supportive at the same time. "Didn't your data say that would be likely?"

"It did, but," Inui paused, mulling briefly before speaking, "Fuji just left on vacation."

The revelation hit Yanagi like a sledgehammer. "It could just be coincidence...." he said in a dead voice, knowing exactly what was coming.

"There is no such thing as coincidence," Inui replied, caught between glee at Yanagi's horror and a bit of dread of the possibilities of a match between Tezuka and Fuji. This could have bad repercussions for Hell. Especially if Fuji forced Tezuka into a situation similar to the one that had brought down the Big Bad.

"I know..." Yanagi sighed. "Everything happens by divine will." Shaking his head, he placed his elbows on the table. "So... Fuji is chasing after Tezuka again. Last time that ship got in the way... it was a disaster."

"Indeed," Inui said agreeably, smirking a bit at the thought of another such disaster. Finally unable to resist habit and pulled out his notebook, skimming down through recent events again, "It is convenient that Kikumaru found Oishi ..."

Yanagi knew it was a headache waiting to happen. His calculations had it as practically inevitable that Oishi would someday Fall for the demon... just not for another few centuries or so. He really didn't want to think of the consequences - and he liked less the consequences of Fuji and Tezuka breathing the same air.

It was best, then, to put it in terms that Inui would care about. "Theoretically speaking, what happens if Tezuka falls?"

Inui adjusted his glasses, the smirk widening with barely contained glee, "That would be ... quite beneficial to Hell." And exceptionally beneficial to him. With Tezuka inside Inui's radius, he'd finally be able to examine him to his heart's content, perhaps even crack all the secrets of power that had brought about Lucifer's demise. Secrets that Inui could then use against Fuji ...

"Tezuka is the most powerful of the Archangels. I would wager he comes close to Fuji in sheer levels of power, in fact." Yanagi considered carefully how to phrase what he was going to say next. "I could easily see Fuji having to shift his current organizational structure to accommodate for the sudden shift."

The smirk faded as Inui considered the future that might linger beyond the acquisition of Tezuka. Reorganization was a probability, but there was already an empty space within the Four, one easily suited for someone like Tezuka. Inui relaxed incrementally and settled himself in his chair, "Doubtful. Nanjirou's unfortunate circumstances has left Hell quite accommodating to someone of Tezuka's caliber."

"Indeed. However, my calculations also show that there are two promising young demons who have power levels that currently exceed... certain members... of Fuji's current executive staff. Without the open slot for them to fight over...." he trailed off. "Well, I wouldn't want to be the one they decided was the easiest target. They might decide to work together to knock him off before going at each other."

Damn Yanagi's logic. Inui flipped some pages and entered the appropriate information, watching his calculations run themselves. Someone annoyed at the outcome they provided him, he flipped the book shut, focusing on Yanagi once more, outwardly calm, "They are still young. Easily dealt with."

"You know as I do the potential of their power," Yanagi said. "Do you really want to tangle with them? Wouldn't it just be easier to nip the problem in the bud, and leave them squabbling with each other?"

Inui's glinted in the fluorescent lighting, "Are you implying that we should interfere with Fuji and Tezuka?"

"Of course not. We're watchers. We observe and record, but never interfere," Yanagi said, managing to sound scandalized.

"It is getting crowded down there."

"Going down is the easy part. Speaking of which, do I ship Akutsu's luggage to the same address as usual this time? I think it'll be two years at best."

"Please. Fuji provided incentive, I believe it will be one."

"Sounds about right." Yanagi looked at the watch on the wall, noticing it had just clicked a minute closer to Doomsday. "It's getting late. I have to get going..."

"So soon? You have not taken even a sip of your tea," Inui almost smiled as he lined Yanagi up in his sights.

Yanagi managed not to wince. He had hoped Inui wouldn't notice.

Oishi's stipend from heaven was incredibly meager. As bookkeepers, the Jimmies kept keen eyes on things. It was a bit amusing that it took two of them to replace Yagyuu, but it wasn't anything a wise angel pointed out. They were both fiercely individualistic, always yelling together whenever anyone pointed out how close they were.

Oishi was a kind creature, so he let them keep their illusions. The problem was that they were determined to show that they were better than Yagyuu had been (sadly not true - no one could squeeze a penny until it screamed for mercy like Yagyuu), so they would cut, and cut, and cut from the budget... and usually in the wrong place. That was why Oishi was currently rooming in a one-room flat whose plumbing went out of order on alternating Tuesdays.

As an archangel, Tezuka's cut of the budget was a bit higher than Oishi's, but considering whose soul he was trying to keep on the path of straight and true, he chose to mooch. Which was what had him knocking calmly at Oishi's door and ignoring the neighbors who were screaming things at each other over a barbecue.

Tezuka's presence radiated like a small sun, and even from inside Oishi knew who it was. He wasn't used to visitors, and he bit his lip, looking around his immaculate (and barren) apartment, wondering if he dared invite his superior in. His hands acted before he could have a mental conflict, though, and he found himself unlocking the door.

"Hello, Oishi," was Tezuka's even greeting as he focused on Oishi, then flicked his gaze around the apartment before resettling them on his subordinate and somewhat friend. It was a praise even left unspoken in Tezuka's thoughts. Tezuka didn't have much in the way of 'friends', preferring to remain at a distance.

Oishi nodded his head, deciding not to be too formal. This was his place, after all. "Tezuka. Can I get you something to drink? I think I can make some tea..." he said, remember some pre-packaged green tea he'd picked up on first moving in two weeks ago.

"Tea would be fine." Tezuka stepped inside and out of the doorway, idly hoping that a shut door might block out some of the impassioned screaming from next door.

Oishi had long since learned to ignore it. He glanced around, wondering where to sit Tezuka down. There was only a very tiny table and a chair in the living area, with a gallery kitchen looking out into it. The closet-size bedroom barely fit Oishi's twin bed. He had to stand on it to get clothes out of his closet. And the bathroom made airplane restrooms look spacious

Tezuka solved the problem of seating by dipping into his power and pulling the idea of a folding chair from the ethereal and making it substance in the real. It thunked to the floor beside the other chair with a clunk, rattling in the manner of folding chairs before settling. Tezuka sat down on it, folding long legs beside the table since beneath it wasn't exactly big enough to accommodate him comfortably.

Oishi blushed a bit. Tezuka's casual display of power was why he was an Archangel and Oishi would never be one. Oishi's power levels were steady, but he would never be the stuff of legends. He had to conserve what he had in case of emergencies. "Um, I'll go make it," he said belatedly. He puttered around the kitchen a bit, finding a pot and filling it before setting it on the antique stove. Two slightly cracked mugs were located, and he dug around in his cupboard, looking for sugar. Unable to locate it, he came back a bit ashamed.

"I'm sorry. I don't have any sugar or anything," he apologized.

"I like it plain." Despite the easy displays of power, Tezuka was as personally bland as gruel. His heavenly office? Neat and furnished with the usual standard office decor, but empty. No desk clutter, no pictures, no excessive plush. His earthly manifestation slid into the background at earthly engagements, blending into the namelessness that is the salary man.

The smile Oishi gave him was blinding. "You're so kind, Tezuka."

Few people called Tezuka kind. In fact, there had only been one other who had... but he was gone now. For that and that alone, he named Oishi as a friend. An absurdly short list currently consisting of only two angels. Tezuka fingered the rims of his glasses instead of replying.

Oishi finally decided that he was done in the kitchen for a while, coming out to take the chair. "Were you planning on staying for a while?" he asked.

"Yes. If you don't mind," he added as an after thought.

Oishi knew exactly why Tezuka was there, and didn't want to bring it up. "It's not a problem." Of course it wasn't. As long as Tezuka was there, he wouldn't have a chance to be seduced by Eiji.

Why did he think he heard some very small part of himself crying?

"Good." Tezuka could admit to being selfish and wanting Oishi to stay with him instead of following after Kikumaru. Of course, he only admitted it because it also happened to coincide with the idea of rescuing others from temptation.

They were quiet as Oishi tried to find a neutral topic of some kind. "Um, Sengoku's been hanging around a demon." Maybe that would be enough of a smokescreen, even though he was pretty sure Tezuka already knew.

Tezuka inclined his head slightly. "Yes," he paused and finally decided he should probably make an effort to hold up his end of the conversation if he was staying with Oishi. "He does that sometimes."

"Should we be worried? The demon seemed rather bent on getting on his good side..." Oishi tried to remember his name. "Kirihara. That's his name - isn't he rather new?"

"A few hundred years old, still pretty young." Tezuka could recall being that young (and stupid and stubborn -- the stubborn part hadn't changed, people just called it determination now) and it was a strange thing to have so much time between then and now. "It's something to keep an eye on, but most likely Sengoku is putting Kirihara through a ... test drive?"

"Test drive?" Oishi echoed, a bit confused. Then again, everything Sengoku did confused him.

"Toying with him, like a cat," that twitch was a shrug, "To see if he'll be entertaining enough to poke at later."

"Poke... at? Isn't that a bit... demonic? Isn't he one of the good guys?"

"Yes." Tezuka was calm and assured, as though he had no doubts about Sengoku and never would. "I believe he just bores easily."

Oishi didn't understand how a person could be bored in heaven - oh, who was he kidding? He spent half his time daydreaming about Kikumaru. "Still..." He sighed, shaking his head. "Isn't it a bit... dangerous... to toy around with a demon?" Like he didn't know from first-hand experience.

"It is, but he's not stupid."

Neither am I, and look at the mess I'm in, Oishi wanted to say, but thankfully the shrill whistle of the tea kettle stopped him. He stood hastily, knocking his chair back, and getting his legs tangled. His balanced wavered, faltered, and then he tipped over completely, landing in Tezuka's lap.

Tezuka blinked, staring down in complete astonishment at his lap, which was suddenly full of Oishi. His fingers coiled around the other angel's shoulders and he tugged a little, as if to help him up, though admittedly the angle for it was wrong.

Oishi wanted to drop dead - well, not exactly, since he was an angel, but he seriously wished for a convenient way out of his predicament. Ending up sprawled on your superior just wasn't a good career move, and he wondered if the room was getting hot...

Tezuka blinked again. Why wasn't Oishi just moving? It was obviously an accident. "Did you want to stay there?"

"Ah- no! Um, sorry!" The kettle continued its demands, the noise piercing through anything he might have said. He tried to scramble to his feet, but in the process he landed his hands on some rather interesting places on Tezuka's body. "Sorry!" he apologized again, finally making it upright and then dashing for the kitchen.

There would have been some undignified flailing if this had been anyone except Tezuka, but since it was Tezuka, he just shifted around uncomfortably as his interesting places were groped. Then, once Oishi had managed his escape, he set about to straighten his clothes, which suddenly felt horribly mussed, but that might have just been him rather than his clothes.

Oishi returned in about three minutes, his breathing back under control, though he wasn't able to meet Tezuka's eyes as he set the tea in front of him. He managed to find his own seat again, slyly pulling his seat about a foot farther away than it had been previously. He was so embarrassed.

It wasn't obvious to most naked eyes (though Sengoku had proven to have a sixth sense about such things and was known to poke persistently), but Tezuka was also a bit embarrassed. To cover this, and regain his outwardly unruffled composure, he sipped at the tea. "It's good tea."

Oishi took a sip, and decided Tezuka either had no taste buds or was merely acting in a socially acceptable fashion. The tea was beyond bitter, and bits of leaves had escaped the bags. He set it down quickly, deciding to just use the cup to warm his hands. "How long do you think you'll be staying?" he asked.

"I'm not sure." It depended upon how long it took for plans to migrate their way to fruition.

Oishi looked around his apartment, wondering where he was going to put Tezuka. There was no spare couch, and the bed would be a tight squeeze. "Um, all I have is one bed..."

Tezuka regarded the bed for a moment, "I can make another." There would just be wall to wall bed, then.

"You'll have to put it out here. There's no room in the bedroom."

"Point," Tezuka nodded. "I'll pay for my share of the rent."

That wasn't what Oishi had wanted, exactly. But if Tezuka was volunteering to pay for rent, it sounded like he intended to hang around for a while. Which brought about another problem... "Um, Tezuka?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to be working at the bar for a while. Remember the assignment you gave me?"

Tezuka did indeed recall. "Yes?"

"You kind of... stick out." Oishi wasn't sure how to phrase this.

"How so?"

It wasn't done to tell someone them resembled a block of wood. "Maybe you could... relax a bit more? Most people go to bars to have a good time."

Tezuka sighed and made an effort to, as Sengoku called it, 'get that stick out of his ass'. It worked, somewhat. "Fun like Kikumaru, I suppose?"

An image of Tezuka in leather pants and a mesh shirt, merrily drinking Screaming Orgasms made Oishi almost choke on his own tongue. "N-no one is like Kikumaru," Oishi managed to stutter out.

An eyebrow raised over thin metal rims. "So I gathered from the view I was getting of his unmentionables." Tezuka's attempting to tease you, Oishi. Really!

It was only through great self-restraint that Oishi didn't dump his tea on the lap he'd landed in ten minutes ago. Jealousy was a sin, after all. "He's just a bit uninhibited."

"Just a bit," Tezuka sighed. Apparently the attempt had not worked as intended. Why couldn't Yukimura be here and do these kind of things instead of him? "Oishi ... "

"Yes?" He dreaded what Tezuka was about to say.

"God is love. Where there is love, there can be no sin." Tezuka lifted his teacup and took a long drought of the wretched brew. There, that wasn't so hard when you just spat it out and pretended to look all-knowing.

Oishi stared at Tezuka, wondering why he was saying something that every angel knew by heart. Tezuka didn't just say things pointlessly, and right now they were discussing Kikumaru, and that certainly didn't involve love- Just wait a minute.

Oishi felt a smile start to form on his face as he began to hatch A Plan.

The first thing Fuji did on teleporting was ditch the awful Hawaiian shirt. As funny as he thought it was, there was no way he'd look like he'd just stepped out of Archangel Atobe's wardrobe for longer than he had to. The next thing on his list was to find accommodation, and rather than booking a posh penthouse suite in some hotel, he decided he was going to make it more... interesting.

Thus, "Suite Moments," a rather upscale love hotel located in Shibuya. The place cost an arm and a leg for a few hours, and Fuji had blithely booked a month. Yagyuu was going to cry when he saw the bill.... something Fuji wished he could witness, but knew he would most likely miss. Such a pity.

It was a bit different than his home turf, strangely quiet as the sound-proof walls kept the screams he was sure were being elicited safely hidden. The hotel looked much like any other, but the hand cuff dispenser and other "treats" stacked in his room were definite not normal fair.

Fuji loved it. He half wished he'd booked the bondage room, instead to the honeymoon suite, but he hoped he'd have time to experiment later.

The room next to Fuji's happened to be called Cascade of Bubbles. It was an exceptionally froofy name for an exceptionally froofy room, but it happened to be accurate, for right above the bed was a spout that spewed bubbles in an iridescent cascade over the satiny plastic sheets. There was also bubble decor, bubble windows, and worst of all ... bubble lube. Kisarazu Atsushi had decided he hated the room on sight. His brother, his twin, Ryou, seemed to find it a hoot, so he'd given in and gone for a merry romp on the plastic sheets getting soap residue up the arse and into all his more personal cracks. Atsushi had laid down the law on ever returning, though. He refused, absolutely!

And that was the subject of the twins's discussion when they exited the room, nearly bumping into Fuji.

"But, 'Sushi, didn't you like making love under a thousand floating mirrors?" Ryou asked. He was the romantic one, long dark hair nearly brushing his waist. It was a soapy mess now, but after a good screw, he wasn't complaining about details.

"It got up my nose, put a funny taste in my mouth, and smells like what the girls pour onto their hands during class. We aren't ever booking this room again," Atsushi refused to give in. This was now a matter of important sexual principle.

Fuji looked at the two of them, their obvious genetic similarities beyond striking. Tilting his head, he looked at the twins, recognizing the hint of repetitive incest in their auras. He sniffed the air carefully, and sure enough, the boys had a slight scent of peach to them.

"I think you smell delicious," he said.

Atsushi scowled, instinctively knowing a predator when he heard one. Ryou just smiled pleasantly and looped his arm tighter around Atsushi's, "It is a nice scent, isn't it? I'm thinking about getting some ... "

His short haired brother scowled even more. There was no way he was letting Ryou buy peach scented anything of any kind. The mere thought was a travesty.

"I'd recommend it. It's a very... seductive fragrance." Fuji looked them up and down, deciding that they would do. He hadn't had sex with a mortal in eighty years, and he had always been fond of incestuous brothers.

Ryou smiled, "See, I told you, 'Sushi. Now why don't you like it?"

"Because you smell like a girl."

The smile slipped nearly into a frown, "And ... ?"

"And I don't want you smelling like a girl."

Interesting indeed. Fuji leaned back against the wall, watching as the two began to argue about whose fault it was they were sleeping together in the first place.

An argument which ended with Ryou's sudden snap of, "Just because I'm screwing around with you doesn't mean I'm gay!"

Perfect opening. "If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck...." Fuji started.

The twins shuddered in unison over something that had nothing to do with ducks and everything to do with a loud-mouthed quacker they both happened to know. "If you say 'dane' -- " Atsushi began before Ryou cut him off.

"We aren't duck -- I mean, gay!" he shook his head, making his hair swish, "We're just twins ... twins share everything."

"Mmmhmmmm. But you are attracted to each other, right?"

Atsushi nodded a reluctant yes. Wasn't there some principal of being attracted to yourself? Or at least ... your own looks? Ryou maintained stubbornness, "Doesn't mean anything."

Time to reel them in. "Well... have you tried it with another guy? Or are you just going to bury your heads into the sand to the possibility?"

Ryou sniffed, looking Fuji up and down, "Why? Are you offerin -- "

This time, Atsushi cut him off, "Even if you are, why should we trust you? We don't even know your name."

"My name's Fuji... and there's two of you and one of me, so if I prove untrustworthy, you're stronger, right?" he lied through his teeth. He could turn them into piles of ashes with a twitch of his fingers, but he didn't really need to tell them that. "The only way to prove you're not gay is to make sure."

The twins looked at Fuji and then at each other. Silent communication passed between them as sure as winter turns to summer. There was apparently some sort of disagreement, because heads twitched not quite in unison before something was settled and Ryou turned to Fuji and said, "Alright, we'll take you up on it ... but just this once."

Atsushi muttered something about older perverts until Ryou elbowed him in the side.

Fuji smiled and stepped toward Atsushi, who seemed to be the more reluctant of the pair. Running a hand down his chest, he smiled over at Ryou. "My room is just down the hallway."

Atsushi looked at the hand and then up at Fuji. He did not appear convinced, which didn't matter really since Ryou had already caught his hand and was dragging him along, saying, "The Honeymoon Suite? And you're alone .... how unfortunate!"

Atsushi really wasn't paying attention because Somehow, he thought, this is a really /bad/ idea. He just didn't realize /how/ bad.

Kirihara's plans of damnation tended to lack subtlety, since his favorite method involved inciting people to riots, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to use it. He recognized almost instantly that Tachibana was a bit different than the usual types he dragged into Hell, so he modified his strategy accordingly. It took a bit more time to get into position, but he figured it would be more effective.

For the last week, the class had been studying parametric equations, and he'd carefully turned in homework that was less than his usual perfection. He consistently confused SIN and COS, hoping to lay a pattern that would help him snare his fly. It worked pretty well. The second week into them, Tachibana pulled him aside, asking if they could speak a minute after class.

When it came to the homework, Sengoku hadn't been watching. Sure, he shamelessly copied everything Kirahara wrote down since it irritated the demon, but he slapped his homework together willy-nilly and turned it in, always just short of A material.

What he had been watching, though, was the looks Tachibana had been tossing Kirihara now and again during the help session that was a requirement one had to take with the course. So when Tachibana pulled Kirihara aside, Sengoku perked up his ears, listened in with all the shamelessness that he'd used in copying notes, and resolved to linger after class.

Sakaki spent most of the class trying to grind material into reluctant young minds, and Kirihara tuned him out, bored already. He knew this stuff backward and forward - math was a founding principal of the universe, something demons just came into existence knowing. It was part of the whole divine knowledge thing they had going.

After class, as Kamio darted for the doors like he was bring chased by his worse nightmare (which might have been close to the truth, since Mizuki and Saeki followed, bickering), Tachibana came over to Kirihara's seat. With casual elegance, he claimed the one Kamio usual sat in, turning it slightly to face Kirihara.

"Kirihara, I've noticed your work hasn't been up to its usual standards in the last week or so," he said, concern evident on his face.

Sengoku almost grinned himself silly into his bookbag, which he was industriously packing and unpacking. Kirihara? Master of subtlety? It was to laugh.

Kirihara managed to look a bit abashed. "I'm used to getting it the first time," he said.

"Do you study? I noticed you don't pay much attention in class."

"It's boring if you already know it." And how. He'd been doing these equations before Tachibana's grandfather had been born.

"But you don't seem to know this." He pulled out a sheet from a notebook, a red-marked piece of paper that was Kirihara's homework assignment from last class. "I graded this during class, and you're consistently making the same mistakes."

Sengoku shouldered his bookbag and looked over at Kirihara as he stood, as though waiting on his very best friend in the world. He managed to look woeful, like he'd never heard anything more horrible than his 'friend's' little 'problem'.

Kirihara ignored Sengoku. "Am I?"

Tachibana began to explain exactly how the functions worked, and how he was warping the whole equation by consistently confusing the formula. Kirihara pretended to pay attention, then looked confused and frustrated as he attempted to solve one of those problems.

"I don't get this!" he exclaimed, using the immortal words of many math majors.

Sengoku dropped the act of woeful friend and settled in next to Kirihara with a thump, looking over his shoulder as he always did during class. He also poked him in the back a couple times.

Kirihara's good-student facade was strained, but he counted backward for twenty, waiting for Tachibana to stop Sengoku. Sure enough, when he hit "three," the TA spoke. "Sengoku-san, it's hard for your friend to learn if you're distracting him."

Kirihara almost spat something out about being Sengoku's friend the day the devil converted to Buddhism, but bit his tongue.

Sengoku gave Tachibana his best beaten puppy look before replying smooth as silk, "He has a class soon. We really don't want to be late for it." They did have a class ... it just wasn't in the formal definition of soon ... unless you counted a couple hours versus the length of Sengoku's life, in which case it was indeed soon. Ergo, not a lie.

"I think not failing math is a bit more important!" Kirihara retorted.

Tachibana looked at the both of them, noticing the tension and probably something more. Instead of remarking on it, he nodded his acceptance. "Sengoku-san, I've noticed you're doing pretty well. Would you have time to tutor Kirihara-san?"

Sengoku flashed Tachibana a smile that might have lit the sun, "I would be delighted to tutor Kirihara." He placed a hand over his heart and his other hand on Kirihara's shoulder. "In fact, I promise to make time to tutor him in the mysteries of life, the universe, everything ... and also the math." And if there was anything Sengoku had a lot of, it was time.

"I-" Kirihara opened his mouth to protest, but Tachibana was too quick.

"Thank you, Sengoku-san. Kirihara-san, I trust you'll work hard, won't you?" Tachibana asked, clapping him on the shoulder warmly as he rose to his feet, and then left the room.

Kirihara stared at Sengoku in shocked disbelief, wondering how the trap had closed on him instead of Tachibana.

Sengoku just smiled, that slow serpentine smile that Kirihara would soon learn to equate with satisfaction of a plan well worked.