What's this? The semi-sequel to 'The Onigiri Tastes Best Under the Summer Sun' that nobody asked for! However, this story is going to be different in format. Yes, it's going to be another pebble added to the tower of one-shot collections. Some parts will be long, most will most likely be short, conversation-only vignettes that I'll dash off when I have a bit of spare time; all will be interrelated and in the same continuity. 'Onigri' was a blast, but took too long to write. A one-shot collection is much better suited for my needs and people won't be kept waiting years during a hiatus. This format will be much less stressful for all involved. Everyone is a winner! (And these long-ass notes will be deleted after a while, don't worry.)

While it's not utterly necessary to read 'Onigiri' if you haven't, some of the character dynamics might confuse readers, such as why Sakuno is on such chummy terms with some of the Rikkai players. But if you're just starting, the basics are: Sakuno is fifteen years old and in high school; for some magical reason, all of the old middle school teams have reunited, go to the same high-schools (which MAGICALLY have similar names to the old middle schools; I don't want to make up new names, shut up); Ryoma is back in Japan; and the line-ups are the same as they were in the first manga. NEW Prince of Tennis? What's that? Pah.

As in the last story, there are hints of romance and some flirting, but it's not going to end with a concrete couple. Despite the conversation later on in this chapter, Sakuno is NOT going to just stand around and ogle boys. But if she's going to be stuck in a sausage-fest of a series, might as well let her enjoy it a little. It's mainly a story about friendship, cooking, tennis, skinny-dipping, food riots, and the stresses of living in the PoT world. Sooner or later, you're not getting out of here alive, Sakuno.

SAKUNO'S QUESTION OF THE DAY

FIRST QUESTION: ANTIFREEZE AND LYE

"Grandma, what is ethylene glycol?"

One beat. Two. On the third there was a deep sigh and rustling white noise as a body settled itself heavily upon a chair. "All right. Let's see if we've beaten the old record, Sakuno. Tell me, how long has it been since you got off the bus?"

"One hour and twenty minutes! That's far from my worst time. And nothing's happened yet!" She spoke with the chirpy pride that only those on a self-improvement plan, and making progress in it, could fathom; her current average Time Since Latest Disaster had gone far beyond her highest mark in middle school. She and Tomo-chan had gone through the math, and, if she kept up her current progress, they projected that she should be able to spend hours on her own and have nothing terrible happen by the end of high school. The mere thought of self-sufficiency within reach, a life unburdened by bad luck, took away the sting in her grandmother's unimpressed answering grunt. Sakuno was very impressed with herself indeed.

"So, what's ethylene glycol?" The foreign syllables twisted her tongue; she could never make a proper 'th' sound.

"You have a Smartphone, Sakuno. You didn't need to call me just to ask me that."

"But you wanted me to call you once I got settled in here, Grandma. And you also told me to call you right away if anything went wrong or seemed fishy, so I thought I'd double my productivity! And I just noticed this. There are quite a lot of chemical names that I don't know here, now that I'm flipping through it."

"Flipping through what?"

"Inui-senpai's notebook of juice recipes. It's in the optional ingredients list for Aozu. "

"He just gave them to you?"

"It's an old notebook, I think. I know that he's made a couple of variations on Aozu since middle school, but I'm not finding them here. It's pretty nasty stuff, Grandma. You're supposed to add mashed over-ripe bananas and rice vinegar and natto—but then at the end there are all these chemical names I don't know. I haven't taken Chemistry yet! How'm I supposed to understand this stuff?"

"I'm asking you again, Sakuno: why did Inui give them to you?"

"Because he couldn't bring any of his own equipment to the dorm cabins and he's not allowed within fifty feet of the kitchen."

Inui-senpai had approached her yesterday, thrusting the notebook and its time-pastel yellow pages under her nose, redolent of something like cigarettes made from various fungi and the collective despair of humankind, and while she remained stunned he had charged her very solemnly with its contents. The team needed all the motivation it could get. Inui Juice was a motivator like no other. If he couldn't make them, she would have to do the honors, and if she refused then all of her senpai and Ryoma would be so disappointed in her because she stood in the way of their progress. Victory in the Nationals! Crush the opposition! etc., etc. He clearly had gone mad with Tennis Spirit. Many of her friends, especially the third years, had also been afflicted by its contagion. It had been bad in spring, but with autumn and tournament season coming upon them, things had only grown worse. Even Tezuka-buchou stalked around with a glassy eye and tyrannical hand.

She could appreciate such earnest conviction, no matter how terrifying in its intensity. Why refuse? She liked being helpful. Her allegiance secure, Inui-senpai had then sworn her to utmost secrecy to never divulge the recipes contained within his old notebook—lest their power fall into the hands of evil or, worse still, Niou—and told her that if she showed them to anyone he would force each and every drink down her throat until she had sampled them all. She'd need to brush up on her law to figure out whether that constituted a death threat or not.

"How much does the recipe call for?"

"Of the glycol? That's another thing that confuses me, Grandma. It says 'trace amount: 1 to ten million parts in solution.' I don't know how to measure that. The pitchers in this kitchen are pretty big. They can hold about three times what this recipe makes. It may be a bit much, but if the team does badly in practice this afternoon Tezuka-buchou may need to hand out extra portions."

"Why are you even considering—You are NOT adding a poison to your schoolmates' drinks, Sakuno!"

"Poison?" Panic strangled her voice into a mere squeak, or else someone would have come running, shut down the entire kitchen, and send everyone home packing without one overwrought and physics-defying tennis match taking place. How disappointing for everyone!

"Yes."

"But nobody's ever died or gotten that sick from Inui Juice, not even from Aozu!"

"Well, apparently Inui isn't stupid or evil enough to put more than, as he so nicely puts it, 'trace amounts' into them. They probably do no damage, but—! Dammit. Hold on, I'm going to need a drink for this."

Sakuno tapped her foot against her perch; she waited for the two small gulping sounds and the deep sigh that followed. "Feeling better, Grandma?"

"Marginally. But tell me, Sa-chan" (a good sign), "aside from learning that one of my former pupils has been feeding my other former pupils poisonous chemicals for at least three years, how is my little chickpea doing? The bus didn't explode? Nobody's broken any bones yet? No riots?"

"That wasn't my fault, Grandma! Everything's fine. Tomo-chan and I sat up at the front of the bus and got such a great view of the countryside as we went up the mountain. It's so pretty here. Trees everywhere and the air smells so clean. I'll send you some pictures later. I think there's a herd of deer around here; Oishi-senpai said this is a good area for them."

"And the dorms look good? You getting all settled in?"

"Oh, you know Atobe-san; he doesn't do second-rate. Everything is shiny and new and very pretty. The girls' cabins have feather pillows and duvets. We even have our own bathrooms. I saw a swimming pool on the way in and there's a recreation center, bigger than the U-17 camp's. I think there's an arcade in there. I've met the Kitchen Supervisor, Ogawa-san. She's very nice! We've already gone a little over what we're going to fix for supper, but once Taka-san and I have inventoried the supplies and she gets back from a meeting we'll really get down business. We have to make the mid-afternoon refreshments first."

"Are you nervous?"

"A little. I've never had to prepare food for so many people at once. I can't make each and every meal special, not like I want. And now Inui-senpai's pestering me about this juice thing. At least I have Taka-san right here with me to help. Isn't that right, Taka-san? Grandma says hi!" Taka-san was tramping along the opposite side of the kitchen, huge bags of brown rice slung over each shoulder. She grinned and wiggled her fingers at him to return his smile. "This year the Kansai team is coming. Kintarou-kun's the only one I really know, and he was absolutely no help when I asked about what Shiraishi-san and the others like. I think they're all crazy in one way or another."

"Very sad and somewhat terrifying, yes. But if you really think about it, are they really any more screwed up than our boys?"

"Ryoma-kun is perfectly normal. And Fuji-senpai isn't crazy. He's just evil. All of the team captains are wound up and he thinks it's hilarious."

"Good to know that you're in the middle of a sausage camp filled with boys who're either crazy or evil. Stick close to your girlfriends or the adults as much as you can. Ann-chan is coming later, right? I believe you said the Chitose girl is coming, too? And for heaven's sake, you don't have to make Inui Juice if you don't want to." There was a small boozy chuckle slurring the end of the sentence. Sakuno didn't have the heart to tell her Grandma that blowing off Inui was far more dangerous than just going along with him. Besides, once the sake got going, then the conversational subject matter tended to turn for the surreal or the embarrassing. Sakuno's second, more comprehensive birds-and-bees talk had occurred when her Grandma had gotten thoroughly sloshed, a very frank and informative talk that Sumire couldn't remember and Sakuno wished she could forget.

"I'll remember that, Grandma. I better let you go. I'll call tomorrow evening and tell you all about how we're doing. Wish me luck!"

"My heart skips a beat every time you call, Sa-chan."

"I love you too, Grandma."

She set aside the phone and walked up to Taka-san's side, observing the way he easily swung the fifty-pound rice sacks with envy. Since sharing her apprenticeship and its attendant struggles with him, she had really come to adore him and his kind, gentle ways interspersed with random bouts of burning mania, but he always seemed to master a kitchen with his presence more than she ever could hope to. He moved around so easily, could heft so much more weight, and could use a knife more skillfully than she would be able to with a hundred years of practice. Taka-san was destined for great things, tending to a thriving restaurant; she'd be lucky if she had her own quiet little café somewhere with two or three helpers. But would that be so bad? Just thinking about the occasional crazy night at Kawamura Sushi sent her cringing. She'd be missing out on some excitement and success perhaps, but if excitement meant a herd of salarymen yelling for more sake and sashimi just as a group of drunken college students tumbled in wanting ramen at place clearly marked as a sushi restaurant, then she would happily live without it . . . They always said that you needed strong nerves to make it as a restaurant owner. If dealing with these insane kids didn't turn her spine from tissue to steel, nothing would.

"Are we all accounted for?" she asked.

"All the rice is. It should last us for a while." He stood back and shook his head, rubbing his neck. "Although I've got to tell you, I'm not sure how brown rice is going to go over with these guys. Eiji hates brown rice. Kaidoh and Momo aren't huge fans either. We might have some complaints."

"Akaya-kun doesn't like brown rice either. Well, Ogawa-san is experienced in sports nutrition and Atobe-san okayed the menu, too. They say it's better for a high-energy diet. I'm sure the captains will make the rest fall into line."

"I bet Sanada likes brown rice," Taka-san hummed, giving her a cheeky look. She blushed, waving her hands as if to physically deflect his insinuations.

"What, you think I'm an authority on what Rikkai likes to eat just because I've made them a few meals? That's just silly! I've cooked for lots of tennis players now. "

"Does he?"

"Oh, Sanada-san loves it. Yukimura-san likes it just because he likes watching the others try to choke it down—oh, I see what you're doing, Taka-san, and I think it's very ungentlemanly of you. I'll have you know that Ohtori-kun and the Tachibanas tolerate brown rice just fine. Mou! Maybe I'll just go home and let you feed everyone on your own! Then we'll see how long you last."

He only laughed and reached out to pat her head like everyone did when they condescended to indulge her. She ducked out of the way, sending a pout in return. "Come on! I know all about your little notebook, Sakuno-chan. The one with the pandas on it? You're turning into a regular Inui—"

"I never knew you were so mean-spirited, Taka-san."

"—and I know that the first entries in there are about Rikkai. Their favorite foods, what they don't like, things you've cooked for them and how they reacted—"

" Taka-san, you haven't been reading things without my permission?" she demanded, only half-teasing. He sighed and their play stopped; he set down the rice bags and went to fetch some more from the loading doors.

"No, but you let Osakada-chan read it, and she doesn't think it's worth keeping secret that Jackal generally prefers beef to pork. Even Horio knows."

"Darn it! At least she hasn't told anyone about what Yukimura-san likes?" Seeing as she was still alive and no more psychologically damaged than per the course, she felt certain that even Tomo-chan had some sense of discretion, but her voice still held an uncomfortable tremor. Her Grandma had told her that proud, ambitious men who had lost face were the most dangerous people of all. Akaya-kun had told her things. Terrible things. Thing filled with the most artful subtleties and the cold-blooded drive to destroy the opponent at all costs. And for some bizarre reason, perhaps some weird Rikkai superstition, Yukimura was very close-lipped about letting others know his favorite dessert flavors. Maybe he didn't want to have to compete with Marui-kun.

"Then don't let Osakada-chan read it if it's so secret." Oh, it was so easy for him to speak so reasonably when his life and sanity weren't on the line! She wanted to regale Taka-san with a few stories she'd heard so that he would have the proper amount of dread instilled in him, but she had no idea of where to begin. She blew a little raspberry at his sensible advice and made him laugh again. She resumed her work; scant minutes later her cell phone sounded its most frequently heard ringtone. Eager for news from the outside, she answered it immediately.

"Saaaku-no—" Tomo-chan sang, "Guess where I am."

"In the equipment room?"

"No, silly Sa-chan, I'm in—the Western Paradise! I'm at the courts, watching our team practice. None of the others have arrived yet, and I've checked all the other equipment to make sure it's up to snuff, so they let me go out for a while."

"How are we doing?"

"Flawless, as usual. I'm watching Ryoma-sama serve ri~~ght now. He looks so serious and handsome and oh so delicious—"

"Tomo-chan! If you're calling me just to make fun of me—" she warned, but without much heat. Brief bouts of exasperation and embarrassment were easy prices to exchange for Tomo-chan's entertainment value, and Sakuno was already a bit bored with inventory.

"Jealous? I bet you are. Here I am, out in the sun in these beautiful mountains, watching all these babelicious boys get their groove on while you're stuck in the kitchens, slaving away!"

Ascertaining with a sharp glance that her companion was ignoring the call like a gentleman and hefting supplies, Sakuno hunkered down next to a few boxes and spoke as quietly as she could: "There's one...ugh... babelicious boy in here." People were always forgetting about Taka-san, and she felt offended on his behalf, though not it was not as offensive as having to repeat Tomo-chan's favorite adjective of the month. Everything was 'babelicious' now. In August it had been 'cray-cray', so the switch was a marginal improvement.

"You have just one dude there; I have millions! And I'd say Taka-san's more of a hunk, not a babe. His face isn't pretty enough. Besides, no one compares to Ryoma-sama."

"Taka-san is plenty cute!" she whispered. Two heavy thuds rattled the cabinets a bit as rice sacks were put into storage.

"Your sense of aesthetics is falling off a little, Sa-chan. Should I be concerned? Are you still doing well in art class? You're not getting cataracts? And you do have to agree, Ryoma-sama is supreme. Right?"

"I don't think it's fair to make such a comparison when their physiologies are so different—"

"I SAID: RIGHT?"

They had had this discussion before. How could a person rightly say that a Michelangelo was superior to a Hokusai, and vice versa? Unfortunately, Tomo-chan never had an appreciation for such comparisons and usually just plowed ahead, considering herself the winner by dint of her stronger, simpler feelings when neither girl ended up convincing the other. Nevertheless, Sakuno usually enjoyed such discussions—when their privacy was assured. Her fingers desperately itched to fiddle with a braid, but she had bound them up by pinning them close to her head and had further secured them with a purple bandana lined with gold threading. Ohtori-kun had picked it out as a gift for her because shy boys like him never did come out and say, 'Sorry, Ryuuzaki-chan, that my school almost made you have a mental breakdown.' He also gave her some nice violin concertos to download. She liked falling asleep listening to them.

"Anything else, Tomo-chan?"

"Nah, I better go. And—wait. I think I hear an engine. There might be buses coming. Darn. I guess I better go back and get things ready for whichever team's arriving. More cute boys for me! I'll send you pictures if shirts start being taken off. Ja!"

A few seconds passed with her considering the cell phone in hand; she decided it would be more prudent to deactivate it until evening, just in case Tomo decided to send some pictorial largesse right when Mrs. Ogawa returned and started to direct suppertime preparations. Sakuno righted herself and regarded one of the stainless steel tables arrayed in the center of the kitchen. Fifteen high-powered blenders stood like soldiers at parade rest. Soon she and Taka-san would be running like well-trained loons between each of these blenders, throwing in fruits and ices and protein powders and God knew what else to make Inui juices (the non-fainting kinds) and shakes for the players once the early afternoon training began in earnest.

Sometimes, if she started over-thinking it, Sakuno felt nothing but dread, cursing herself for caving in and accepting the tasks in store for her. She would be providing all the meals, snacks, and special sports drinks for scores and scores of people, ninety percent of them teenage boys, some of whom she had spoiled in the past and would have such high expectations—and here she was going to serve them brown rice!

A small buzz made her hand tremble. She had forgotten to switch off the phone. Looking down on it with some dread, hoping it wasn't a topless picture of Ryoma-kun, she instead found embarrassment in a more cheerful form.

Saku-bunny! Saku-sagi!

Rikkai r here!

Will u b practice?

Before she could reply, a second message followed hot on the first's heels:

Hi, cutiesaurus! Plz drop by courts w/ sweets 2:45 on the dot. Will need sugar then.

Yanagi sez so. Make it cupcakes. Jonesing.

Until I see you, wifey! 3 3 3 3

And then, ten seconds later:

Sanada and I thought it best to confiscate Kirihara's phone until after dinner.

I would also like to point out that I do not think that strawberry macarons are an unreasonable request for Marui's afternoon snack. He does not require cupcakes. Macarons are much better for him. In every way possible. Thank you.-Yukimura

Fondness easily won over the brief battle with mortification as she returned the greeting and made darn sure the phone was switched off. She had grown more acclimated to this brand of insanity. Macarons, though! Trust Yukimura-san to pick one of her most time-consuming creations as his favorite. And she would have to find a way to sneak them to him along with Marui-kun's contractually-required sweets. And if the others caught wind of this, everyone else would want special favors . . . Going back to the task at hand with a sigh, she flipped open Inui's old notebook. They needed to figure out which kinds of juices to make.

"Taka-san?"

"Hmm?"

"What is sodium hydroxide?"

By the by, have you looked at the Sakuno stuff on ? While Ryoma/Sakuno is by far the most popular pairing (natch), I was surprised to see that Yukimura/Sakuno probably comes in second place. Surprised, but intrigued! I wish to subscribe to this newsletter. Yukimura and Sakuno are definitely going to get a one-shot focused on them somewhere. IT IS THEIR DESTINY.