Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis and all related characters are Not Mine. I forget who they do belong to. But it isn't me. Though I am in possession of pretty, pretty Prince of Tennis posters now… *sighs blissfully*

Warning: Insanity ahead. Don't say I didn't warn you.

A/N: DON'T even ask what spawned this. I was bored. There was a notebook and pencil handy. And thus was born… this. *cringes*

The Fanfic Which Was Formerly Known As:

A Very Crazy Fanfic Which Makes No Sense And Has An Absurdly Long Title

(And currently has no title. The previous one sums it up, really.)

~by Daelan (I plead temporary insanity. Don't lock me up.)

            It was never a good thing to tick off Fuji Syuusuke.

            It was just as bad to tick off Inui Sadaharu.

            It was worse to tick off both of them.

            It was worst to tick off both of them at the same time.

            So reflected Echizen Ryoma, as he hid himself inside a cupboard, listening for any signs of life in the room beyond. He was starting to feel a little suffocated.

            It wasn't his fault, he thought bitterly. Kaidoh-sempai had tripped. Tripped, of all things. Like a scene out of a bad fanfiction. (And speaking of bad fanfiction…)

            And the other thing hadn't been his fault, either. He had only been trying to prevent Taka-san from demolishing the entire room. There hadn't been a racket of his own handy, so he'd done the only thing he could do, and wrestled Taka-san for the racket.

            That had been difficult.

            And it was not what it seemed.

            And he hadn't managed to get the racket away from Taka-san (no doubt the classroom was far beyond any hope of salvage now). In Burning Mode, Taka-san was in no condition to provide any sort of defence for him.

            They had both been accidents.

            Ryoma crossed his fingers and opened the door slowly, hoping against hope that the room would be empty. No such luck, apparently. He was confronted by the sight of Fuji, his blue eyes gleaming, and a sadistic smile on his lips. Inui wore an equally twisted smile and bore a pitcher of bubbling… sparkly… grey… liquid.

            Ryoma gulped.

~fin

A/N: And just a note. This is only being posted because Burnein said I should. Flames can be directed to her. Worship can be directed to me. ^_^ Dedicated to Burn. Because there just aren't enough FujiTaka fanfics out there.

And of course, reviews are always welcome~

(And if you don't understand it… um, drop me a review with your e-mail address and I'll mail you or something. ^_^)