So I was like, I better sit the fuck down and WRITE. Around a 1000 words, to make up for the four months of not UPDATING.

100 Things I Am Not Allowed To Do At Hyoutei

Number 100

I will not say "I hate tennis" in front of the whole school ever again.

Such a peaceful and kind of warm day was not to be wasted, or so Atobe thought. Since it was Christmas and sunny and all that he decided it would be the perfect time to shove another tennis practice down everyone's throats, regardless of what they had to do during their Christmas break.

So, that's what he did.

For some odd reason, all of the regulars came, because apparently they had nothing better to do a.k.a they didn't go anywhere a.k.a Atobe told them to stay. And no, he did not threaten them with sticks and tennis rackets and various tennis balls.

"It feels like summer," Shishido grumbled, covering his eyes with one hand. "Why is it ninety degrees outside during December?"

"It's because this whole planet hates you and doesn't want you to live anymore," Mukahi snapped back. "I bet it wants you to melt to the ground during December and call it mutual suicide because you're stupid and can't think for yourself."

"…Nothing you say makes any sense. And who's going to commit mutual suicide with me? I'm not going to melt into the ground just because it's ninety degrees."

"Well I think I am. Hey, how about you commit mutual suicide with me?"

"…How about no. I kind of value my own life a bit, thank you very much," Shishido muttered, picking up his tennis racket and standing up. "Come on, we need to practice."

"Why?" Mukahi whined.

"…Because Atobe said so."

"I don't give a flying fuck what Atobe says," Mukahi suddenly snapped, jumping up. "He can go screw himself for all I care. What's this about having tennis practice all of a sudden during Christmas? I could be eating turkey or whatever it is those Americans eat during Christmas. I could be playing video games or whatever instead of being here outside where there's sun and ninety degrees of hell."

"Ore-sama will not screw himself," Atobe stated from his place on his special chair, because obviously he has to have a special chair made especially for him.

"You know what I think? I think tennis should go screw itself."

"That's…very nice," Shishido commented. "Remind me why you're here then."

"Because I hate tennis, that's why," Mukahi retorted, crossing his arms. "I hate it so much that I just have to be here every single freaking day even though it's ninety degrees outside during Christmas."

"You know it's possible in Australia," Shishido reminded him. "The ninety degrees thing, I mean."

Two seconds passed.

Thirty seconds.

Forty.

"Wait, why the hell are you even here if you hate tennis?!"

"HAS ORE-SAMA HEARD CORRECTLY?! DID YOU JUST SAY YOU HATE TENNIS?!"

"Gakuto…"

"Wait, if he hates tennis, can I take his place?" Hiyoshi asked.

"YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO BE MY DOUBLES PARTNER. EVER," Oshitari shouted, throwing his glasses at the said second-year-Hyoutei-Gakuen-person-student-someone.

"Dude, what the heck, why did you throw your glasses at him?" Shishido asked. "Wait…hold up. WHY HAVEN'T YOU ANSWERED MY QUESTION?! WHY ARE YOU HERE IF YOU HATE TENNIS?!"

"That, my fellow citizens, is the deep mystery that has befallen upon each of your heads," Mukahi said in his almighty voice of…awesomeness?

"Shut up with the crap and tell us why you're here if you hate tennis," Shishido growled, snapping his tennis racket into…thirds?

"The question here is…why am I here if I hate tennis," Mukahi proclaimed.

"…Yes."

"Are you guys purely stupid or do I have to explain every last detail of my life in great detail to you guys?!"

"…?"

"Okay, first off, who says I hate tennis?!"

"…You said so like two minutes ago," Shishido confirmed.

"Okay. So give me a reason why I hate tennis."

"…Because it's ninety degrees out when it really should be thirty something. And it's Christmas and you'd rather be playing Wii Tennis than…play…real tennis?"

"Wii Tennis is so much funner."

"FUNNER IS NOT A WORD."

"STOP SNAPPING AT ME I KNOW WHAT'S A WORD AND WHAT AIN'T A WORD."

"…I give up. You go do whatever you want to do, just leave TENNIS OUT OF THIS," Shishido shouted.

"Do you know what's the different between Hokkaido cream and…regular cream?" Mukahi asked him.

"…What's that got to do with tennis?"

"Nothing, I'm just wondering."

"Um." Shishido pondered on this for a good few moments, the other seven people watching him silently. "Hokkaido…cream comes from Hokkaido? I don't know, does it make your skin look better or something?"

Mukahi stared at him. "You put cream on your skin?"

"…Well, it's…makeup? Where else are you supposed to put it?"

"Is he really talking about makeup?" Ootori asked carefully, not wanting to anger any of his already very well angered teammates.

"I believe he's talking about food," Oshitari commented.

"I believe he's talking about makeup," Shishido shot back. "He's girly enough."

"Usu."

"Gekokujou."

"You see even Hiyoshi and Kabaji agree with me!"

"I wasn't agreeing with you," Hiyoshi said very solemnly.

"Yes you were," Shishido argued. "You were so agreeing with me."

"I'm sleepy," Jirou complained.

"GO SLEEP."

"…I understand." So Jirou plopped down onto the ground and slept.

"I was talking about the…milk cream? Like, the type you put in bread?" Mukahi chipped in.

"YOU WERE NOT. YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT MAKEUP," Shishido argued.

"YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT I THINK ABOUT AND WHAT I DON'T THINK ABOUT. YOU LUZ0R."

"…"

"…LOSER."

"DON'T MAKE TYPOS IN YOUR SPEECH."

"ALL I'M DOING IS TALKING TO YOU PEOPLES."

"SPEECH BASICALLY MEANS CONVERSATION IN THIS CASE AND IT'S PEOPLE."

"WHATEVER. YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT I'M THINKING ABOUT AND WHAT I'M NOT THINKING ABOUT," Mukahi shouted. "I'M THINKING THAT I HATE TENNIS, SO THERE."

"YOU SEE YOU HATE TENNIS."

"NO I DON'T, STOP SCREWING WITH MY MIND."

"…DO YOU HATE TENNIS OR NOT?!" Shishido exclaimed, frustrated at Mukahi's sudden lack of decisiveness.

"…I don't know," Mukahi answered.

"Then DON'T SAY ANYTHING."

"…So basically I need to shut up and GTFO of your life?"

"…Basically."

"Okay, bye, I'm going to play tetris." And so Mukahi walked off, game console in hand.

The only thing that they productively did was kick Mukahi off their tennis team and epic fail at their next tennis tournament.

Atobe knew that he should never, ever, hold practices during ninety degree Christmases.