(no subject)
Title: Grip Tape
Series: Hyoutei Pie, part 3 of ?. Part 1, Part 2
Rating: NC17
Characters: Giggle. Dirty Pair. Hiyoshi. And a very special guest star.
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is Konomi-sensei's strange invention.
Author's note: Guess what? There STILL isn't any sex! But: Warning for extremely realistic descriptions of gay sex.
*
Well, they were definitely fucking. On screen were two lean guys that looked like they could be in a J-pop band. One of them was slowly working his cock up the other one's ass, and the only sound in the room was the hard breathing of both.
Until Hiyoshi spoke. "Hey," Hiyoshi pointed out, "The guy on the bottom. His penis is soft."
Oshitari nodded. "Well. Sometimes they get kinda bored in these." Oshitari and Mukahi were sitting on the bed, since there was only one chair in the room, and Hiyoshi was occupying it.
Hiyoshi rolled his eyes. "Can we watch something else?" He begged. "Maybe without the buggering?"
Mukahi snorted and Oshitari laughed. "Piyo, it isn't called pornography because they're picking flowers."
Hiyoshi glared and renewed his efforts to escape. The grip tape was too firmly bound around his wrists and ankles, however, and his efforts simply succeeded in knocking over a vase of flowers.
Oshitari put the vase back upright and put a firm hand on Hiyoshi's shoulder. "Stop being a pussy," Oshitari said in an amused tone. Hiyoshi leaned over and bit his arm.
"Ow," Oshitari said mildly, rubbing the tooth indents, and Mukahi snorted.
"Well, fine. How about this one."
Mukahi picked a shiny silver disk out of a book that was larger than his own torso. "Sports" read the label on the spine. "This one shows the whole process a little better, I think. Plus, they use condoms, which are always a little less messy."
Hiyoshi gritted his teeth. "Didn't I just tell you that I didn't want to see --"
"Urusai," Oshitari's voice cut in mildly.
Goddamned senpai. Always thinking they knew what was best for Hiyoshi. He wished he'd taken Ohtori's excuse and gone back to their room to study.
The DVD started, and two men (eighteen years old? nineteen?) were on a couch kissing. Their tongues were softly touching and their lips slid to eat, bite, suck and devour lips. Hiyoshi twitched. Kissing was good. Kissing made him stop trying to look away, even.
Then the camera panned down. Hands. One on each crotch, over pants. Exploring in a way that was tentative at first, and then gained speed as each man apparently figured out that what worked on themselves worked on each other, too. Then the noises began, small sounds of wonder and appreciation, and the wet, wet smacking of their mouths.
Hiyoshi made his own little incoherent noise, and then blushed, mortified. But the other two didn't seem to notice. Oshitari had settled back on Mukahi's bed, the other boy nestled quietly between Oshitari's legs. When the kissing started, it didn't seem like Oshitari was paying attention to the screen at all. Instead, his hair covered his face so that Hiyoshi couldn't quite see what he was doing, but it seemed to involve Mukahi's ear.
Mukahi senpai was watching the video. But his eyes were glazing over, and he was biting his lip, shifting restlessly back against Oshitari. Oshitari seemed to like this just fine, however, and kept up whatever it was that was making Mukahi wiggle.
Hiyoshi thought about saying something. He thought about reminding them that goddamnit, there was a guest in Mukahi's room, but then his attention was captured by what happened next on the screen.
Shirts were coming off. Muscled torsos and stomachs and hipbones were revealed. Oh yes, it was distracting. Hiyoshi found himself staring at the way hipbones emerged from pants. It was one of his favorite things about tennis, he admitted to himself. How shirts flew up when people jumped, or raised their arms to serve, especially when the serve was as powerful as...
Mukahi gasped a little, and then laughed, and Hiyoshi blushed. "Would you two cut it out?" Hiyoshi said irritably. "Or at least un-tape me so that you can get your buttfucking done in peace."
Mukahi glared at him and Oshitari sighed. "Be a good kouhai and watch the video, Hiyoshi," he said in a low, uncompromising voice. "Not us."
"As if I'd want to watch y--" Oh my. On the screen, as if to follow Hiyoshi's line of thought, one of the men stood while the other knelt. Hands traced down torso. Mouth dipped to lick stomach. And suddenly, in a sinuous wriggle, the standing man's pants were off and his hard cock was pointing right toward the kneeling man's mouth.
Hiyoshi's eyes got large.
The kneeling man stared down appreciatively, ran a finger lightly along the side of the veiny, circumcised (that looked rather odd) cock as if to marvel at it for the first time, and then delved right in.
Deep slow tongue kisses to the cock tip, just like mouth kisses, only using the sensitive cock-end instead of another tongue. Hiyoshi let out a small protesting noise and tugged at his taped hands. His pants were tenting up in an embarrassing way, and while yes, everyone in the room was watching porn, he still didn't appreciate his inability to hide his reaction.
He glanced sideways and wished he hadn't, because Oshitari and Mukahi were totally making out. Mouth mashing on mouth with a hot intensity that the small screen just couldn't capture, hands fisting on neatly-buttoned white uniform shirts, wet lips gleaming, glasses pushed askew and then removed with a distracted hand...
Fuck.
Hiyoshi's head whipped back to the screen. That didn't help at all. He watched with a kind of fascinated shame as that mouth sank lower and lower on the big hard shlong, sucking the skin in and in and in and in and...Hiyoshi whimpered again. He was between a...a rock and a hard place, here, and his senpai were too distracted to let him leave.
"Na, what have we here?" The calm, amused, detached, annoyed voice cut through all of Hiyoshi's haze like a blade to the throat.
Oshitari and Mukahi jumped apart, Oshitari wiping the spit off his lips and Mukahi clearing his throat.
"Buchou," Oshitari said sheepishly.
Atobe walked in and surveyed the scene. Hiyoshi, taped to a desk chair, facing a television screen full of porn. Oshitari and Mukahi making out nearby. Atobe put his hand to his forehead, but whether it was to see further into the situation or to rub away a headache was unclear.
"Inadequate," Atobe sighed. "I assume you were attempting to teach Hiyoshi something about sex?"
"He's learned, hasn't he?" Mukahi poked Hiyoshi with his foot. "We've shown you lots of stuff tonight, haven't we, kid."
Hiyoshi glared at Mukahi. "You have spit on your chin."
On screen, the man on his knees had the other man's cock in his mouth...all the way. Hiyoshi stared, fascinated again, almost forgetting Atobe's presence in the room.
"Unrealistic," Atobe cut in again, and hit pause. He crossed his arms and sat on the edge of the bed, near Oshitari's foot. "You see, none of this is realistic." Atobe's hand swept the room -- the stacks of yaoi manga, the book of "sports" videos. Atobe turned and cast an amused glance at Oshitari.
Mukahi was giving Atobe a sullen look for some reason that Hiyoshi couldn't fathom. But Oshitari had a faint blush on his cheeks while Atobe held his eyes.
"Surely you haven't forgotten what it was like to be that naive?" Atobe's voice was vaguely caressing and tender, and Oshitari's cheeks flamed.
"You...got Oshitari to blush, buchou," Hiyoshi muttered in disbelief. "What were you two, lovers or something?"
Oshitari blanched, Mukahi looked away from everyone with a disgruntled expression, and Atobe smirked. "Or something. But I see that if you are to be instructed, I'm going to have to do it myself."
Hiyoshi blinked, and then scowled. "'Instructed' -- my ass. Nobody's instructing me in anything, buchou. I don't want it, I don't need it, I don't..."
"...Know what you're missing," Atobe cut in dryly. "Now. Mukahi, could you please explain for Hiyoshi's benefit what being screwed in the rear really feels like?"
"Will it get you the hell out of my dorm room?" Mukahi said with a flash of temper in his eyes.
"Sooner than if you don't comply," Atobe said with raised brows, and Oshitari stared from one to the other with a troubled expression.
Mukahi took a deep breath, hid his face in Oshitari's shirt, and began. Oshitari threw Atobe a look that was part reproach and part an indefinable sort of sadness, and wrapped his arms around Mukahi's shoulders, holding him close.
"Fucking hurts a little. It also feels really good, Piyo. But. You make sure you don't eat anything that makes your poop runny the night before. And then you make the other guy wear a condom because getting stuff on someone else's dick is REALLY gross. Sometimes I give myself an enema if this horny guy here gives me any warning. I like showering first too, specially if I'm gonna get rimmed. Yes, rimmed, Hiyoshi." Mukahi peeked out from Oshitari's shirt and eyed Hiyoshi with a smirk.
Goddamnit. Did the whole entire school know now? Oshitari was grinning a little, which meant that yes, the whole entire school knew. "You bastard," growled Hiyoshi to Oshitari.
"And then," Mukahi continued with a sigh, shifting a little against Oshitari, "we fuck. At first, I needed a lot of stretching. Fingers up my ass playing around until the muscles relaxed. But then I got more used to it, and the muscles give more easily now. Don't need much stretching any more, but I make him go really slowly at first. It still hurts when he puts it in, like the biggest thing in the world is pushing you wide open when it shouldn't be in there at all. But your cock is getting beaten off at the same time, and suddenly it feels really good to have a dick up your ass, especially if the side of it is rubbing your prostate up and down while it fucks you. And..."
But then Mukahi stopped, and his glance up at Oshitari was pure mischief as his voice got a little huskier. "And eventually you're both coming all over the place. Well, the other guy is coming into his condom, and you're coming into his hand, and then all you want is to be fucked again...and again..."
"We get the point," Atobe cut in dryly, but his voice was gentle. "You two screw like rabbits. Did you learn anything, Hiyoshi?"
Hiyoshi nodded, slowly, face flaming. "It hurts. It involves your intestine. It still sounds totally gross."
Atobe sighed and stood. "There's no helping it, Hiyoshi. You might as well be straight. Na, I came to borrow volume seven of Lord of the Rackets."
Oh, Hiyoshi knew that one. It was where the arrogant but attractive captain and the team tensai have their first time with each other -- a first time that swiftly degenerates into nights, weeks, months, of hot, pornographic sex. That volume was the most gratuitously smutty of the series, and involved a lot of things that were even more out there than anal sex. Not that Hiyoshi had any of the pages bookmarked, or anything.
Oshitari got up and retrieved it for Atobe without comment, handing it over.
Atobe caught Oshitari by the wrist and Oshitari paused stock-still for a moment, a visible shiver running down his spine. They stared at each other. Hiyoshi noticed that Mukahi was looking away, expression miserable.
"Don't be a stranger," Atobe said, eyes boring into eyes.
Oshitari didn't say anything, but shook his wrist free.
Hiyoshi stared at the 80s teen movie unfolding in front of him and cleared his throat. "Hi. Get me the FUCK OUT OF THIS CHAIR."
Mukahi broke out of his reverie while Oshitari and Atobe exchanged a long, tense look with each other. Mukahi went over to Hiyoshi and untaped him.
Hiyoshi saw Mukahi's eyelashes fall, casting a soft sad pattern on his cheek.
"Thank you for telling me how it really is, senpai," Hiyoshi said quietly.
Mukahi looked up and patted Hiyoshi on the cheek. "I hope you get over your uptight phase soon," he said, some of his snark returning.
And then, moved by something that he didn't quite understand, Hiyoshi cleared his throat. "W-wanna help me out with that, senpai?" Hiyoshi's voice was all husky. After all, Mukahi had just described some really intense stuff.
Mukahi blinked at him and looked around, as if expecting someone else to be standing behind him. Then stared at Hiyoshi again.
"Piyo. Did you just --?"
Hiyoshi rubbed his wrists and flushed. Hitting on people was harder than it looked. "Yes. Yes I did," he said grumpily.
Mukahi put a hand on his stomach and laughed, mouth wide, eyes shut, little red bob swinging in the light from the paused video. "Just to clarify," he said finally, gasping, "You want to screw me, right?"
Hiyoshi nodded.
Then Mukahi shrugged. "Huh. Well okay then. One moment."
He turned to Oshitari, who was slumped against the closed door, Atobe gone. "Hey Yuushi. I'm sleeping with Hiyoshi tonight. Go find that bitch-ass captain of ours and get it out of your goddamned system."
Oshitari sighed, his face set in slightly grim lines. "I guess I expected that."
Mukahi ignored Oshitari. "So. Do you have condoms? Lubricant?"
Hiyoshi gulped and shook his head.
Mukahi sighed. "Never mind, Yuushi, we need you here after all. I guess you can watch."
Hiyoshi stood, face flaming. "No -- er -- never mind, senpai --"
And then, pushing aside his chair, Hiyoshi ran, hearing Mukahi's shouted words echoing down the hall.
"Cooooowaaaaaaard!"
[Yes, to be continued...]
Series: Hyoutei Pie, part 3 of ?. Part 1, Part 2
Rating: NC17
Characters: Giggle. Dirty Pair. Hiyoshi. And a very special guest star.
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is Konomi-sensei's strange invention.
Author's note: Guess what? There STILL isn't any sex! But: Warning for extremely realistic descriptions of gay sex.
*
Well, they were definitely fucking. On screen were two lean guys that looked like they could be in a J-pop band. One of them was slowly working his cock up the other one's ass, and the only sound in the room was the hard breathing of both.
Until Hiyoshi spoke. "Hey," Hiyoshi pointed out, "The guy on the bottom. His penis is soft."
Oshitari nodded. "Well. Sometimes they get kinda bored in these." Oshitari and Mukahi were sitting on the bed, since there was only one chair in the room, and Hiyoshi was occupying it.
Hiyoshi rolled his eyes. "Can we watch something else?" He begged. "Maybe without the buggering?"
Mukahi snorted and Oshitari laughed. "Piyo, it isn't called pornography because they're picking flowers."
Hiyoshi glared and renewed his efforts to escape. The grip tape was too firmly bound around his wrists and ankles, however, and his efforts simply succeeded in knocking over a vase of flowers.
Oshitari put the vase back upright and put a firm hand on Hiyoshi's shoulder. "Stop being a pussy," Oshitari said in an amused tone. Hiyoshi leaned over and bit his arm.
"Ow," Oshitari said mildly, rubbing the tooth indents, and Mukahi snorted.
"Well, fine. How about this one."
Mukahi picked a shiny silver disk out of a book that was larger than his own torso. "Sports" read the label on the spine. "This one shows the whole process a little better, I think. Plus, they use condoms, which are always a little less messy."
Hiyoshi gritted his teeth. "Didn't I just tell you that I didn't want to see --"
"Urusai," Oshitari's voice cut in mildly.
Goddamned senpai. Always thinking they knew what was best for Hiyoshi. He wished he'd taken Ohtori's excuse and gone back to their room to study.
The DVD started, and two men (eighteen years old? nineteen?) were on a couch kissing. Their tongues were softly touching and their lips slid to eat, bite, suck and devour lips. Hiyoshi twitched. Kissing was good. Kissing made him stop trying to look away, even.
Then the camera panned down. Hands. One on each crotch, over pants. Exploring in a way that was tentative at first, and then gained speed as each man apparently figured out that what worked on themselves worked on each other, too. Then the noises began, small sounds of wonder and appreciation, and the wet, wet smacking of their mouths.
Hiyoshi made his own little incoherent noise, and then blushed, mortified. But the other two didn't seem to notice. Oshitari had settled back on Mukahi's bed, the other boy nestled quietly between Oshitari's legs. When the kissing started, it didn't seem like Oshitari was paying attention to the screen at all. Instead, his hair covered his face so that Hiyoshi couldn't quite see what he was doing, but it seemed to involve Mukahi's ear.
Mukahi senpai was watching the video. But his eyes were glazing over, and he was biting his lip, shifting restlessly back against Oshitari. Oshitari seemed to like this just fine, however, and kept up whatever it was that was making Mukahi wiggle.
Hiyoshi thought about saying something. He thought about reminding them that goddamnit, there was a guest in Mukahi's room, but then his attention was captured by what happened next on the screen.
Shirts were coming off. Muscled torsos and stomachs and hipbones were revealed. Oh yes, it was distracting. Hiyoshi found himself staring at the way hipbones emerged from pants. It was one of his favorite things about tennis, he admitted to himself. How shirts flew up when people jumped, or raised their arms to serve, especially when the serve was as powerful as...
Mukahi gasped a little, and then laughed, and Hiyoshi blushed. "Would you two cut it out?" Hiyoshi said irritably. "Or at least un-tape me so that you can get your buttfucking done in peace."
Mukahi glared at him and Oshitari sighed. "Be a good kouhai and watch the video, Hiyoshi," he said in a low, uncompromising voice. "Not us."
"As if I'd want to watch y--" Oh my. On the screen, as if to follow Hiyoshi's line of thought, one of the men stood while the other knelt. Hands traced down torso. Mouth dipped to lick stomach. And suddenly, in a sinuous wriggle, the standing man's pants were off and his hard cock was pointing right toward the kneeling man's mouth.
Hiyoshi's eyes got large.
The kneeling man stared down appreciatively, ran a finger lightly along the side of the veiny, circumcised (that looked rather odd) cock as if to marvel at it for the first time, and then delved right in.
Deep slow tongue kisses to the cock tip, just like mouth kisses, only using the sensitive cock-end instead of another tongue. Hiyoshi let out a small protesting noise and tugged at his taped hands. His pants were tenting up in an embarrassing way, and while yes, everyone in the room was watching porn, he still didn't appreciate his inability to hide his reaction.
He glanced sideways and wished he hadn't, because Oshitari and Mukahi were totally making out. Mouth mashing on mouth with a hot intensity that the small screen just couldn't capture, hands fisting on neatly-buttoned white uniform shirts, wet lips gleaming, glasses pushed askew and then removed with a distracted hand...
Fuck.
Hiyoshi's head whipped back to the screen. That didn't help at all. He watched with a kind of fascinated shame as that mouth sank lower and lower on the big hard shlong, sucking the skin in and in and in and in and...Hiyoshi whimpered again. He was between a...a rock and a hard place, here, and his senpai were too distracted to let him leave.
"Na, what have we here?" The calm, amused, detached, annoyed voice cut through all of Hiyoshi's haze like a blade to the throat.
Oshitari and Mukahi jumped apart, Oshitari wiping the spit off his lips and Mukahi clearing his throat.
"Buchou," Oshitari said sheepishly.
Atobe walked in and surveyed the scene. Hiyoshi, taped to a desk chair, facing a television screen full of porn. Oshitari and Mukahi making out nearby. Atobe put his hand to his forehead, but whether it was to see further into the situation or to rub away a headache was unclear.
"Inadequate," Atobe sighed. "I assume you were attempting to teach Hiyoshi something about sex?"
"He's learned, hasn't he?" Mukahi poked Hiyoshi with his foot. "We've shown you lots of stuff tonight, haven't we, kid."
Hiyoshi glared at Mukahi. "You have spit on your chin."
On screen, the man on his knees had the other man's cock in his mouth...all the way. Hiyoshi stared, fascinated again, almost forgetting Atobe's presence in the room.
"Unrealistic," Atobe cut in again, and hit pause. He crossed his arms and sat on the edge of the bed, near Oshitari's foot. "You see, none of this is realistic." Atobe's hand swept the room -- the stacks of yaoi manga, the book of "sports" videos. Atobe turned and cast an amused glance at Oshitari.
Mukahi was giving Atobe a sullen look for some reason that Hiyoshi couldn't fathom. But Oshitari had a faint blush on his cheeks while Atobe held his eyes.
"Surely you haven't forgotten what it was like to be that naive?" Atobe's voice was vaguely caressing and tender, and Oshitari's cheeks flamed.
"You...got Oshitari to blush, buchou," Hiyoshi muttered in disbelief. "What were you two, lovers or something?"
Oshitari blanched, Mukahi looked away from everyone with a disgruntled expression, and Atobe smirked. "Or something. But I see that if you are to be instructed, I'm going to have to do it myself."
Hiyoshi blinked, and then scowled. "'Instructed' -- my ass. Nobody's instructing me in anything, buchou. I don't want it, I don't need it, I don't..."
"...Know what you're missing," Atobe cut in dryly. "Now. Mukahi, could you please explain for Hiyoshi's benefit what being screwed in the rear really feels like?"
"Will it get you the hell out of my dorm room?" Mukahi said with a flash of temper in his eyes.
"Sooner than if you don't comply," Atobe said with raised brows, and Oshitari stared from one to the other with a troubled expression.
Mukahi took a deep breath, hid his face in Oshitari's shirt, and began. Oshitari threw Atobe a look that was part reproach and part an indefinable sort of sadness, and wrapped his arms around Mukahi's shoulders, holding him close.
"Fucking hurts a little. It also feels really good, Piyo. But. You make sure you don't eat anything that makes your poop runny the night before. And then you make the other guy wear a condom because getting stuff on someone else's dick is REALLY gross. Sometimes I give myself an enema if this horny guy here gives me any warning. I like showering first too, specially if I'm gonna get rimmed. Yes, rimmed, Hiyoshi." Mukahi peeked out from Oshitari's shirt and eyed Hiyoshi with a smirk.
Goddamnit. Did the whole entire school know now? Oshitari was grinning a little, which meant that yes, the whole entire school knew. "You bastard," growled Hiyoshi to Oshitari.
"And then," Mukahi continued with a sigh, shifting a little against Oshitari, "we fuck. At first, I needed a lot of stretching. Fingers up my ass playing around until the muscles relaxed. But then I got more used to it, and the muscles give more easily now. Don't need much stretching any more, but I make him go really slowly at first. It still hurts when he puts it in, like the biggest thing in the world is pushing you wide open when it shouldn't be in there at all. But your cock is getting beaten off at the same time, and suddenly it feels really good to have a dick up your ass, especially if the side of it is rubbing your prostate up and down while it fucks you. And..."
But then Mukahi stopped, and his glance up at Oshitari was pure mischief as his voice got a little huskier. "And eventually you're both coming all over the place. Well, the other guy is coming into his condom, and you're coming into his hand, and then all you want is to be fucked again...and again..."
"We get the point," Atobe cut in dryly, but his voice was gentle. "You two screw like rabbits. Did you learn anything, Hiyoshi?"
Hiyoshi nodded, slowly, face flaming. "It hurts. It involves your intestine. It still sounds totally gross."
Atobe sighed and stood. "There's no helping it, Hiyoshi. You might as well be straight. Na, I came to borrow volume seven of Lord of the Rackets."
Oh, Hiyoshi knew that one. It was where the arrogant but attractive captain and the team tensai have their first time with each other -- a first time that swiftly degenerates into nights, weeks, months, of hot, pornographic sex. That volume was the most gratuitously smutty of the series, and involved a lot of things that were even more out there than anal sex. Not that Hiyoshi had any of the pages bookmarked, or anything.
Oshitari got up and retrieved it for Atobe without comment, handing it over.
Atobe caught Oshitari by the wrist and Oshitari paused stock-still for a moment, a visible shiver running down his spine. They stared at each other. Hiyoshi noticed that Mukahi was looking away, expression miserable.
"Don't be a stranger," Atobe said, eyes boring into eyes.
Oshitari didn't say anything, but shook his wrist free.
Hiyoshi stared at the 80s teen movie unfolding in front of him and cleared his throat. "Hi. Get me the FUCK OUT OF THIS CHAIR."
Mukahi broke out of his reverie while Oshitari and Atobe exchanged a long, tense look with each other. Mukahi went over to Hiyoshi and untaped him.
Hiyoshi saw Mukahi's eyelashes fall, casting a soft sad pattern on his cheek.
"Thank you for telling me how it really is, senpai," Hiyoshi said quietly.
Mukahi looked up and patted Hiyoshi on the cheek. "I hope you get over your uptight phase soon," he said, some of his snark returning.
And then, moved by something that he didn't quite understand, Hiyoshi cleared his throat. "W-wanna help me out with that, senpai?" Hiyoshi's voice was all husky. After all, Mukahi had just described some really intense stuff.
Mukahi blinked at him and looked around, as if expecting someone else to be standing behind him. Then stared at Hiyoshi again.
"Piyo. Did you just --?"
Hiyoshi rubbed his wrists and flushed. Hitting on people was harder than it looked. "Yes. Yes I did," he said grumpily.
Mukahi put a hand on his stomach and laughed, mouth wide, eyes shut, little red bob swinging in the light from the paused video. "Just to clarify," he said finally, gasping, "You want to screw me, right?"
Hiyoshi nodded.
Then Mukahi shrugged. "Huh. Well okay then. One moment."
He turned to Oshitari, who was slumped against the closed door, Atobe gone. "Hey Yuushi. I'm sleeping with Hiyoshi tonight. Go find that bitch-ass captain of ours and get it out of your goddamned system."
Oshitari sighed, his face set in slightly grim lines. "I guess I expected that."
Mukahi ignored Oshitari. "So. Do you have condoms? Lubricant?"
Hiyoshi gulped and shook his head.
Mukahi sighed. "Never mind, Yuushi, we need you here after all. I guess you can watch."
Hiyoshi stood, face flaming. "No -- er -- never mind, senpai --"
And then, pushing aside his chair, Hiyoshi ran, hearing Mukahi's shouted words echoing down the hall.
"Cooooowaaaaaaard!"
[Yes, to be continued...]