There was a 15% chance that Momotarou didn't do anything, think anything, touch anything while Nitori had taken a shower. As Nitori gripped onto the door handle to enter his dorm room, he took in a deep breath, prayed a little, and hoped that when he opened the door, Momo would be quietly studying at his desk or peacefully asleep or, whatever, unconscious. Just a quiet evening, please. It's all he wanted. So he braced himself and opened the door.

And there was Momo's stupid, smiling face.

Goddamn it, just one day.

"Nitori-senpai! Great, you're back!" Momo leaned back on his desk chair, rocking it on its hind legs, before continuing, "How much food coloring do you think it would take to dye the gym pool red?"

What did that even mean?

"Why…?" Nitori said, cautiously shutting the door behind him. Who knew how half of the ideas Momotarou thought of came into his brain, why he felt the incessant need to energize his day on par with a slice of life manga. Perhaps Nitori wouldn't have minded as much if he weren't dragged in with nearly every half-baked idea Momo conjured up. He just wanted to live a normal life, okay?

"I want to dye our pool red," Momo stated, an excited breath trailing in the air.

"Oh my god, you can't."

"Yeah…" Momo sighed. "I guess it would take a shitload of food coloring, right? I don't think I have enough money for that."

Seriously, that was his obstacle? Never mind that the concept of dying an entire pool red was insane, the reality of Momo's funds could just not support his grand schemes. But Nitori took this for the better as he nodded, relieved the conversation ended quickly. It was a Thursday evening and all he wanted to do was rest on his bottom bunk, feeling his damp hair chill his cheeks as he lay in silen—

"What about detergent?" Momo asked, setting his chair down. He swung his legs around, sitting backwards to face Nitori lying in bed, and shouted, "Like a giant bubble bath!"

He shouldn't ask. Nitori knew he shouldn't ask, but he also knew he couldn't just lay there, listening to his kouhai dismantle a bomb of stupidity right next to him, and so ever hesitant and definitely not fully interested, Nitori gave in and asked, "Momo, why do you want to put stuff in the pool?"

"Because it's big and inviting."

Honestly, Nitori didn't know what to say.

Yet, anyone who knew Momo would know this catered to his persistent personality, to his opportunistic whims, to his batshit insanity eager to burst out of society's constraints, to the fact that Momo just liked playing pranks. It was a shame his older brother graduated before he could attend Samezuka Academy. Seijuro may have been responsible and leadership worthy, but he was also gullible.

Still, here was Momo at an all-boys boarding school, unsupervised and thus unstoppable, with a giant pool begging to be messed with. Think of the laughs, the screams, the—

"Same problem," Nitori said, unaffected by Momo's enthusiasm. "You don't have the kind of money to turn the pool into a bubble bath."

And so sent off the flurry of potential pranks as listed by Momo, seemingly in good rhythm as if he had been thinking about this for days—a conversation Nitori just wanted to be over with already. Momo suggested putting goldfish in the pool, to which Nitori said they would die from the chlorine. So then he said cover the water surface with glitter, which Nitori said would be impossible to clean, that Samezuka would be glittery for days, months, perhaps even years; that they'd be labeled the Glittery Mermaids of Samezuka, the literal goldfishes of the swimming academy, dumb and sparkly.

Momo became desperate, listing off rice, paper, Styrofoam balls, inflatable animals, flowers, underwear, balloons, pineapples?

"Stop, just stop," Nitori said, exasperated that this conversation had gone on for two hours and still Momo insisted on putting something in the pool.

"I still think the balloon idea was okay, Nitori-senpai…"

"Even if you did blow up all those balloons," Nitori said, sitting up from bed, "how are you going to carry all of them to the pool? Where are you going to put them?"

But it didn't matter, because with Momotarou, common sense was merely an option one could choose to abide to in life; a necessary mentality to live a quiet life, a mediocre life, a life as riveting as white bread. And as Momo brushed off Nitori's plea to focus on studying, he looked into his senpai's eyes and beamed—life as riveting as white bread.

"Nitori-senpai," Momo cooed, his lips curling upwards into a cheeky grin.

"Oh god," Nitori groaned, cringing at what he was about to hear. "What? What are you thinking?"

"Bread."

Bread, he said. The boy said bread. Didn't explain what he meant, didn't clarify whether the bread would go in the pool or around the pool, didn't mention how much he needed—the boy simply said bread. That's all.

And Nitori thought, that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

Because first of all, bread gets soggy, so this was destined for disaster from the get-go. But as Momo stood up from his chair, pacing inside their dorm room, Nitori realized they had reached the point of no return, that there was absolutely nothing Nitori could say to change his dimwitted kouhai's mind about layering the pool in bread. This was a cause for concern for the timid silverhead, since one error in Momo's schemes could get him kicked off the swimming team for vandalizing the gym pool—hell, the kid could get expelled from the academy, and how could Nitori live on, knowing he should have guided Momotarou in the right path?

"But Momo-kun," Nitori stuttered out. "What if you get caught?"

"Oh, don't worry," Momo chuckled, "I have a plan."

A plan that wouldn't be explained until the next day.

Nitori found himself standing next to Momotarou in front of the bread aisle at the grocery store. A Friday afternoon, and Momo was shoving thirty-five loaves of bread into their shopping cart. Most boys would go to the movies or the mall, but here they were, buying all of the bread on sale for a 100¥ a loaf. As Nitori gripped onto the shopping cart handle, he wondered if maybe he should be more assertive as Momo's senpai, to warn him of the severity and absurdity of the situation, to at least mention that the bread would sink after absorbing water.

"Momo—"

Just then, Momotarou gripped onto the shopping cart, looking over his shoulder elated with joy and said, "I'm so glad you came with me, Nitori-senpai!"

Goddamn it.

Momo had the kind of smile that was so precious it could melt your heart, haloed by his golden eyes above and rosy cheeks—a sweet peach of a smile shoved down your throat, straight to the heart. With Nitori, it never did take much to pull him in any direction so desired, but if there was anything he hated to do, it was to be the dream-crusher, which is why he tolerated so much day after day. Oh, why did he have to be burdened by an underclassman as wild and reckless as Momotarou Mikoshiba?

Passive was Nitori's nature to the bone, and so he watched in fear Momo attempt to purchase each loaf of bread, watched Momo argue with the cashier clerk that it was absurd for the grocery store to have a cap on how many loaves of bread people could buy on sale, watched Momo argue with the manager about how he was going to buy all thirty-six loaves of bread—just you watch him do it, asshole—whether he had to pawn the rest of the loaves to his senpai to pay for him, watched Momo argue with the customers in line behind them about how he had every right to buy thirty-six loaves of bread, so shut up and wait. To say Nitori was mortified would be an understatement, which is what prompted him to tug at Momo's arm and whisper, "Maybe we should go…"

Honestly, who knew how long the battle for thirty-six loaves of bread would have taken, but when Momo saw Nitori cower behind him from everyone yelling, there was, for a moment, a brief moment of guilt looming over him. His gentle senpai had probably never had to deal with the absurdity of the world.

So they left with twenty loaves. Each person could buy ten.

"Don't worry, Nitori-senpai," Momo said as they entered their dorm room. "This is not a wrench in the gears! We're a little short on bread, but, well, we can make this work."

"Momo…" Nitori set his bags of bread on his desk. "Maybe you shouldn't go through with this."

A small moment of silence befell them as the two stared at each other.

"But I just bought twenty loaves of bread."

And with that, Momo sat himself on the ground with his set of loaves and reached in his desk drawer, where he pulled out one white garbage bag he had managed to lift from the school janitor. One quick wave of the bag to open it, and Momo began ripping each slice of bread into tiny pieces to place inside the garbage bag. Kid wanted to sprinkle bread pieces all over the gym pool like a giant fish tank. Simple plan, stupid plan, but nonetheless, Momo's plan.

Nitori chose to lie on his bed as Momo proceeded to rip each loaf into pieces, wanting his hands to remain clean of the crime they were about to commit, but as the hours grew on and the sun set, Nitori found himself turning over onto his stomach to peer down at Momo at work. The excitable redhead slouched over his lap as he ripped each piece of bread, seemingly unfazed by the slave labor he was putting himself through, that Nitori dangled his arm off the bed and reached over to Momo's knee just to see if he was human still.

"Momo-kun," Nitori whined, "you've been going at this for hours."

The kid had ripped up six loaves of bread.

"Can't stop, senpai," Momo muttered, his eyes still on his hands. "I've got a mission."

There were still fourteen loaves of bread left to rip up, so much work left to do for this meaningless prank. Nitori didn't want to feel pity, didn't want to look at all supportive for any of this, and tried to bury his head in his pillow to cloud out any thoughts of helping his silly kouhai. It was getting too late for this nonsense, and he knew if he didn't remind Momo that the world still existed, the guy would machine his way through each and every loaf by dawn. His hand still rested on Momo's knee, which he shook lazily as he pleaded, "Take a break."

"No can do, Nitori-senpai."

"Please," Nitori insisted, his voice muffled by his pillow.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Oh fuck," Momo gasped as he desperately tried to grab each loaf in his arms and shove them into the garbage bag.

"Uhhh—" Nitori jolted upwards and grabbed a pair of loaves in his hand. He wondered if he should shove them in his shirt. Legitimately panicked and shoved both loaves under his shirt only to realize how odd it would look to be caught pregnant with twin bread babies, so he took them out and stared at them in his hands, terrified. When did bread become so criminalizing? He looked at Momo, who looked at him, each boy holding a loaf of bread in their hands as if they were bricks of heroin, and jumped when they glanced over to the door.

Rin stood there, confused, his hand still on the doorknob.

"What the hell are you two doing?" he asked, "And why do you have so much bread?"

The first five seconds are crucial when coming up with a lie.

All Rin wanted to ask was if Nitori and Momo had any extra toothpaste since he and Sousuke ran out and forgot to go to the store. Granted, every time he entered their dorm room, something bizarre happened, whether it was Nitori screaming as Momo chased him around the room with a giant bullfrog, or that time Momo weightlifted Nitori in the air to prove he could despite Nitori's flailing (although it wasn't much of a feat because perhaps anyone could bench press Nitori easily), or that time Momo insisted Nitori throw cookies at his chest so he could break them upon impact, crumbs everywhere. So, as Rin observed his slapstick comedy duo of underclassmen hold bread in their hands, surrounded by loaves on the ground and a garbage bag full of tiny shredded pieces, the real question perhaps was… what was Momo doing now?

And why was he also balancing a loaf of bread on his head?

"It's not what you think, Rin," Momo blurted out, still in perfect form with the bread on his head.

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to think here."

"Nitori-senpai and I are bonding."

Rin didn't understand. And from the looks of it, Nitori didn't understand either.

"Uh, what I mean is, uh," so Momo clarified, "Nitori-senpai and I are going to pick up, um, feeding the ducks. So," Momo laughed, his nerves on edge. "So, we need bread, duh."

Rin glanced over to Nitori, who attempted to smile, who looked like he was holding back another set of tears, who probably wanted to die.

"Uh-huh," Rin said. This was such a lie. This was the biggest lie he had ever heard, and he didn't even know what for. But at this point, he didn't care, because this was Momotarou Mikoshiba and all Rin wanted to do was brush his teeth and go to bed. So, he shrugged and said, "Okay, whatever. Don't make a mess. Have any toothpaste?"

And with a tube of toothpaste in his hands, Rin shut the door and left.

Alas, the two culprits' hearts could rest.

"That was so close," Momo said before continuing his shredding the bread loaves, a loaf still on his head.

To which Nitori gaped as he mentioned, "You do realize you can't go through the plan anymore, right? Rin-senpai saw all of the bread! He'll know you did it, that you put the bread in the pool!"

"Oh my god, you're right," Momo gasped, as if this hadn't even crossed his mind. As if he legitimately thought his lie was so good Rin actually believed it. "Aww man, but I bought twenty loaves of bread for this shit!"

Six loaves of bread shredded into pieces in a garbage bag and fourteen loaves of bread, all of which had to be dealt with in a way that didn't involve being put in the pool water. The plan was ruined. Momotarou's heart was broken as he sat in a ring of carbohydrates, his loaf crown still resting sadly on his temple. Nitori pitied the boy—not for having his plans ruined, but for all the hard work he went through. And so he suggested, "Well, we could still feed the ducks? That could be nice…"

Momo nodded, a defeated child accepting the crushed daisy of silver linings.

Poor Momo-kun, Nitori thought. He kneeled onto the floor off the bed and patted Momo's shoulders to comfort him, but it became apparent that Momo had gone off into a downward spiral of pondering on missed opportunities, wasted money, and hours of ripping bread literally thrown into the trash bag. Nitori didn't know what to say to comfort him, so he leaned forward, opened his arms, and slowly hugged Momo. This should have been sweet, but the bread on Momo's head finally tipped over, hitting Nitori square on the face before sliding down his cheek and thudding onto the floor.

It was mad awkward.

So awkward, in fact, that Momo blatantly stared at Nitori.

"Uh." So Nitori let go, cheeks flushed, as he stood up and headed towards the door. "I'm going to brush my teeth."

It felt nice to be hugged by his senpai, Momo thought as he watched Nitori fumble with his desk drawer to pull out his toothbrush and toothpaste before leaving the dorm. It was a stupid idea to put bread in the pool, but it felt nice to have someone tag along in his spontaneity, to have someone who didn't shut him down just because he was weird.

"Okay," he said.

"And," Nitori hunched his shoulders as he looked back at Momo, and quietly, he said, "I don't know, maybe you… could come up with something… better?"

It seemed to be the case that Nitori-senpai was always there to cheer him on, to hug him when he was down, to listen, which was nice. So Momo smiled, letting out a small chuckle as he scratched his neck. Because Nitori had a point, this was merely an end to the bread idea, but the mission itself was still on—this was an opportunity to come up with something grand, something amazing, something no one had ever seen in his life.

For his senpai, Momo would come up with something.

A/N: Well, this is one of the silliest fanfics I've ever come up with, and its existence is just to make me laugh personally, but hopefully you guys like it. There is already another installment to this on my tumblr, if you feel so inclined to read it, but otherwise you'll have to wait, heh.

Please review.

Cheers.