I wrote this in like two hours and I have no regrets. This is why I shouldn't be on pinterest :'D

Enjoy y'all!

~'0'~

It's one of the rare days where soccer practice ends early, coach Endou having called several of the team's main players for a strategy meeting for their next match, and they have a few hours to kill until they should be heading home.

Hamano stretches his arms above his head with a lazy sigh, then rests them against the back of his head, and grins as he looks at his friends. It's only the six of them now, everyone else busy with team duties or hanging out at the arcade – they'd been invited to the last one, but had decided on getting food first before meeting up with the rest.

Which is why they're just outside a fast food place, ready to go in.

Or, they would be, if Kurama wasn't currently in a call with Kirino.

The defender is one of the players left in the discussion with their coach and apparently needed Kurama's opinion on something, and the forward's phone went off just before they'd had the chance to get inside. Good thing, too, because the noise coming from inside is heard even out here.

But it's starting to take a while, and Hamano can feel himself getting restless. Nishiki next to him seems to be bored too, if his mindless scrolling through his phone is any indication.

They're arguably the worst, Kurumada and Amagi still waiting more-or-less patiently and Hayami having been distracted by next door's book shop, curiously looking through the window.

Hamano scrapes the sole of his shoe over the sidewalk in boredom, wondering how much longer they're supposed to wait. He was promised food and games, dammit! He's hungry!

Dark eyes glare at him suddenly and he gulps.

''One sec, Kirino,'' Kurama says into the receiver, then he turns back to Hamano. His annoyance is clear. ''If you're just gonna make noise, go ahead and get us a table instead.'' Without waiting for an answer, he's focusing on his phone again.

Hamano pauses.

Well.

At least he'll have something to do, right? So he shrugs and glances at the others, who mostly ignore him except for Kurumada, who waves at him to go ahead.

''I'm coming too,'' Nishiki says suddenly, stuffing his phone in his pocket again, and pulls Hamano with him before anything else can be said – not that their friends seem to notice, anyway.

Hamano's about to ask what made the other midfielder so interested in joining him – because, okay, maybe he was bored, but he also had his phone (which is much more interesting if you ask Hamano, who may or may not be the tiniest bit salty because he forgot to charge his own phone last night) – but instantly stops when he catches sight of Nishiki's expression.

Because he knows that grin.

He can feel a similar one growing on his own face, because honestly? That's the look that spells trouble, and if there's anything he's always ready for, it's to have fun.

~'0'~

Kurama lowers his phone, ending the call as he does so, and turns back to the others. ''Alright, that's done,'' he says, and he's honestly glad for it. He doesn't mind helping the other guys, but he's also pretty much starving and totally up for some cheap soggy fries, so the disruption didn't come at a good time. He's about to suggest they finally go in, when he does an automatic headcount. ''Where are Nishiki and Hamano?''

''Getting a table for us,'' Kurumada says, and oh yeah, he vaguely remembers snapping at Hamano when the midfielder started annoying him.

Which may have not been his smartest idea, because those two can burn down a building with a piece of tape and a toothbrush if they set their minds to it, but he's reassured by the thought that it's only been a few minutes. Not even their legendary troublemakers can cause that much chaos in less than five minutes.

''Whatever,'' he sighs, stuffing his phone in his bag, ''let's grab Hayami and go.''

They've just managed to coax Hayami away from the book shop window – the midfielder whining the entire time – when there's a sudden rush of noise from the fast food place in front of them.

The door slams open.

And then Nishiki is storming outside, half-bend forwards and carrying a- is that a fucking table- with Hamano behind him holding the other edge of the... table. Because it is a table, apparently.

Kurama does a double-take.

''What the fuck,'' he says.

That's when Nishiki, wide-eyed and breathing heavily from either his sprint or his... extra weight, notices them, and starts screaming.

''Fucking RUN!''

~'0'~

At the soccer club room, the strategy discussion has only continued for ten minutes at most after Kirino finished his call with Kurama, when the door slides open to reveal Haruna. A phone is clutched in her hand and her face is scrunched up.

''Endou-san?'' she asks. Weirdly enough, she sounds a bit exasperated, which is a rarity for the usually cheerful club advisor.

Their coach seems to realize that too, raising his eyebrows. ''What is it?''

Haruna grimaces.

''I... I just got a call from the principal,'' she says, slowly, ''about a group of Raimon students trying to... um, steal a table.''

The coach blinks, the teenagers sharing confused looks. ''What?''

''They stole a table,'' Haruna repeats, and clarifies, ''from a fast food restaurant.'' She seems a little bewildered herself too. ''The principal said they were recognized as students from our club. They've asked us to deal with it.''

Oh. Oh no.

Endou, clearly at a loss for words, looks at his players when someone sighs deeply. It's Tsurugi, probably, considering he has one hand rubbing his temples with the look of someone who's done with everyone's idiocy.

In fact, the teens all seem to be taking it better than their coach. Endou is abruptly reminded that they usually spend more time with the rest of the team than even he himself does, and a stab of pity goes through him.

''Who was it?'' Shindou asks, and his eye is twitching in a way their coach has never seen before. Kirino next to the game maker is inching away from him slowly, while Tenma on his other side has burrowed his face in his hands and seems more than happy enough to pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist. Sangoku is patting his back sympathetically.

Haruna, either not noticing the strategist's expression or deciding the table-stealing troublemakers have deserved his ire (which Endou, truthfully, doesn't agree with because Shindou is scary and somehow he seems even worse now (kind of like Kidou, and suddenly it makes sense why Haruna wouldn't be bothered by it)), sighs and says, ''Kurama and the others.''

Kirino pauses from where he's trying to get out of Shindou's range. ''I just called them,'' he gapes. ''How did they- so fast-?''

No one has an answer for that, although he doesn't really seem to expect one either.

''Doesn't matter how, I suppose,'' Endou sighs, knowing he has to be an adult again and deal with this. If someone had told him how much of a headache these kids would give him sometimes, he'd have handed them over to Fifth Sector – the entire organization would undoubtedly collapse within a week and save them all the trouble of going through a revolution. ''Thank you, Haruna. I'll...'' he waves his hands around a bit, not sure what to say.

She seems to understand anyway, handing him a piece of paper with a phone number – from the fast food restaurant, no doubt – and retreats again.

Endou braces himself for whatever conversation he's going to have with the owner of the establishment, and sends a quick text to Fudou before calling the number.

He's suddenly very much interested in the mood to get absolutely wasted tonight, and if there's anyone who can arrange a club night like that, it's Fudou.

Fuck, he really needs a drink.

~'0'~

Hamano is still in the process of flinching as he and Nishiki are getting scolded by Kurama – it's been half an hour since their almost-successful table robbery, and they only got free a little bit ago after the manager spend nearly twenty minutes on the phone with... someone, he doesn't really want to know who it is – when a phone rings.

It's Kurama's.

On one hand, it means their scolding is put to a halt for the time being, so Hamano is grateful for it.

Then again... he really doesn't want to know who's calling.

With a dark glare at both of the troublemakers, Kurama pulls out his phone and accepts the call with a grunt. The conversation seems very one-sided, the forward only responding with a short ''yes'' and another grunt, and then the phone is held out towards Hamano.

With growing dread, the midfielder reaches out as if it'll bite him. Another glare from Kurama has him quickly grabbing the device, putting it next to his ear – whoever it is can't be worse than the grumpy forward... right?

''...Hello?'' he asks, wincing as he does so.

Shindou's unamused voice filters through, not even bothering with a greeting. ''Your training menu is tripled for a week.''

Fuck. Tenma's made that threat several times since using it that first time, during the Great Pluto War, but he's never actually carried it out.

Hamano kind of wants to crawl in a whole and die, before the new training schedule can kill him.

''But- they asked us to 'get a table'! An we did!'' he protests weakly.

Instantly, he's pinned into place by Kurama's glare, and if looks could kill the midfielder is sure that he would've been at Heaven's gates by now (because whatever Tsurugi says about them all going to hell, that's obviously just him going through his edgy angsty teenager phase).

''You know very damn well that's not what they meant.''

Which, okay, fair. In Hamano's defense, it was Nishiki's idea.

He would've thought that was everything, but Shindou is not done yet. ''Also, you made Tenma cry. Congratulations.''

Oh, if their captain is actually crying... Hamano feels kinda guilty now, even though he can barely hold back his laughter at the same time.

''Ah, that bad, huh?''

''Don't use that tone on me or I'll get Sangoku on the line,'' is growled, and the midfielder winces again – if there's anyone worse than Shindou, it's undeniably their Sangomom. ''But yes, that bad. For the record, Tenma says you're going to clean all the tables in the club building too.''

And suddenly all of Hamano's guilt has gone right out of the window, and he's left stuttering into the receiver.

He had not known their kind-hearted captain could be that vicious, although he really should've known after the Great Pluto War. What happened to the overly-excited first-year they could push their chores onto because he didn't mind helping his senpai?!

He never should've gone along with Nishiki.

Thinking back on the furious fast food manager chasing them down the street waving a spatula, he starts grinning again.

Nevermind, it was way too funny. He doesn't regret a thing. Even if training will kill him... it was totally worth it.

He says as much, and Shindou is silent for a short second.

Then, ''for the record, I would've given anything to see it.''

The next thing Hamano knows, the line goes dead, and he's left gaping at the phone, because-

No one is ever gonna believe Shindou, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes, said that.

Fuck.

~'0'~

At least, no one believes him until it turns out Shindou is just as bad as the rest of 'em.

Was this the effect of the first two weeks of university? I have no clue, who knows. Hope you guys still enjoyed :'D

See y'all next time!

- Yara