A/N: I started writing this before Record Breaker's release, before the anime (what anime? nope!). So it's been in production for several years and I only just got the mojo to finish. Assume it takes place whenever, as it was never meant to be taken seriously. That said, I hope you enjoy it.

That's the Game

The abandoned gym looked worse for wear—claw marks, scorches, cracked wood, and broken equipment everywhere he turned—but it was mostly intact. It was large enough to easily hold the twenty people that were currently standing in it, and it certainly wouldn't be pressed for space when Yamato and Hiro decided to show up. Daichi fidgeted in nervous impatience. He wasn't the only one doing so. Airi was outright muttering to herself and even some of the uniformed folks were looking a bit tense. Their orders from Yamato, passed from the mouth of Hiro (wouldn't their old teachers be so stunned to see Hiro not only awake but proactive), were simply to wait in this room for the two of them to show. It was an uncomfortable wait. No one knew what was going on so no one knew exactly what to say, whether they should be prepared for something big, or if they could feel free to breathe a little.

Everyone was happy to see Hiro walk through those battered double doors with an easy smile on face. Everyone but Daichi, that was. He knew that look. The way his ridiculously blue eyes were narrowed just a little and the way that his walk was almost springy with anticipation. It was a look that Daichi had long ago learned meant horrible things. A look that meant someone was about to find his or herself in a compromising and undoubtedly humiliating situation. A look that Hiro had sported after Daichi had gotten it in his head to pants him in the middle of the hallway when school was just letting out. He shuddered.

"I'm sorry we took so long," Hiro told them. "It took us awhile to find another one after Yamato broke the last."

The Chief in question walked in, face darkened in a thoughtful frown. He was intently studying something in his hands. Something red, round, and about the size of a human head. Daichi felt very surreal all of a sudden; it was like the nervous tension that had just moments ago been choking the room retreated to cry in a corner.

"That's a dodge ball," he said flatly.

And he knew that anything that happened today would be all Hiro's fault.

"Your observational skills are as sharp as ever," Yamato dryly remarked.

Daichi, who would be the first to admit to valuing his own life, wisely refrained from commenting that Yamato probably hadn't known that dodge ball was even a thing until their conversation in Headquarters. Hiro was looking all too amused at this situation.

"I have been told this is a civilian training method," Yamato told them, eyeing the ball skeptically.

If the information on civilian culture that Yamato was receiving came wholly from Hiro, then the world was doomed.

"Hiro insisted that it would do no harm to test it." He was frowning, but it was a testament to his trust in Hiro that he was even willing to attempt the game.

There was no warning. No one even knew anything had happened until Airi had thrown herself to the floor screaming, "YOU BASTARD!" as a red blur shot through the empty space where her head had been. Its impact against the far wall was so loud that it was cringe-inducing. Daichi felt a cold sweat break out at the display of strength from the Chief.

"You're going to break it again," Hiro pointed out. "The idea is just to hit someone or dodge, not to bludgeon someone and kill them."

"So you have said," Yamato responded, unruffled.

Anyone hit by him would be nursing broken bones at least. A furtive glance at Otome told him that she was completely unalarmed and even eager looking. Well… she was the best doctor JPs had to offer. A cracked rib? A fractured arm? No big deal, right?

"I won't lose to you," Airi promised darkly.

Her fingers closed around the spongy ball and she took a defensive stance similar to the one she used in battle. Yamato offered only that derisive half-chuckle he reserved for people he thought were acting ridiculous.

"To announce your intentions so boldly—is it a display of confidence or foolishness?"

He dodged effortlessly, letting the projectile roll to Hiro's feet. Daichi didn't hesitate. He dove behind a yellow-clad employee with a frantic apology and let him be the first one out of the game. Old instincts died hard. He raced around the room, keeping behind everyone else. Memories of gym class and all of its horrors surfaced, feeding adrenaline to his body and giving him the speed needed to survive the nightmare this day had become. It couldn't be anything but a dream, he told himself. He was further convinced of this idea when he saw a cat leap and summersault to catch the ball, sending another uniformed employee to the bleachers with several others.

"Go Jungo!" Otome cheered.

On the other side of the gym, the chef turned around with a bewildered expression.

"Huh?"

He narrowly missed getting hit by Airi. Keita took the ball. He started chasing Jungo around with it.

"Don't hog it, you skinny calves bastard!" Airi shouted.

"The hell'd you just call me?"

"This isn't happening..." Daichi moaned.

"J-Joe!?"

The bestactacled man pranced away laughing. "I'm a ninja master!"

Airi stomped to the bleachers. Daichi thought she would've lasted longer.

"It seems that she has lost after all," Yamato remarked.

The platinum haired teen was like a specter, gliding across the wooden floor and smoothly weaving around the mass of bodies. He was gunning for the ball, which was being futilely shot back and forth between Keita and Jungo. Daichi was not the heroic sort. The urge that spiked in him to dive for that ball before Yamato could get to it was not a strong one, and there were no lives at stake that could force him into action. At least, he liked to think that no lives were on the line. They were playing with the remorseless Chief Hotsuin, after all. But it was best to leave everything to Hiro.

He jumped when he felt a hand land heavily on his shoulder. Hiro leaned forward to his ear with a smirk on his lips.

"Are you trying to hold off and be hit by someone lightweight?" his friend murmured. "You won't be able to do it."

Daichi gulped, unwillingly acknowledging the truth in those words. Despite his attempts at doing just that in every game of dodge ball he had ever played, it always came down to him and Hiro and a very painful end. Only now there were many more physically powerful people competing, so the chances of getting away with some mild stinging were slim. He still remembered the burning in his nose when Hiro nailed him in the face that one time. It was embarrassing even now that he had bawled himself silly over it. Hiro's strength was well above average even in fifth grade, but Yamato's abilities were very clear: there were craters in the walls now.

Stunningly, Otome was the one who grabbed the ball. She giggled when she launched it, taking the last of the yellow-clad officers.

"I haven't played this game in years!" she laughed again and flounced away, narrowly dodging Keita's attack.

Yamato scooped the ball from the floor in one easy movement. It looked like a red laser when it shot toward Hiro, who moved little more than an inch to the left and let it pass him. There was a glow in his blue eyes, a testament to his satisfaction with their situation. Though his token rabbit jacket fluttered wildly in the aftermath of the explosion of brick wall behind him, Hiro stood with a smirk frozen on his face. He picked up the ball. Daichi rolled. It sailed over his head and just skimmed Keita's hair.

"Does that count?" the chief asked.

"It was hardly a kill shot," Hiro dismissed.

"I thought that this was not a death match?" Yamato tilted his head. "Are you changing the rules on me, Hiro?"

"No," Hiro replied, "It was simply a… figure of speech."

"I see," Yamato said simply. "I have studied figures of speech and never have I read of that particular one. Please explain it to me later."

Hiro, ever at ease with the JPS Commander, simply bowed slightly in acceptance. The dipping of his head hid his grin, Daichi knew. He had to admit that he was slightly afraid of just how well his friend clicked with their morally ambiguous ally. Not that he was unaware of Hiro's own grey area! He just… liked to look the other way.

"Ah, I've been defeated," Jungo remarked. "Good job, Jungo."

Daichi spun around to find the chef kneeling in front of that orange cat with a proud smile. His eye twitched when he saw the ball lying nearby.

"What the hell, man?" Keita barked. "How did you lose to a cat!?"

Jungo the Human made his way to the bleachers with a cheerful wave, leaving Keita fuming and open to Otome's assault. The nimble doctor attacked from behind without mercy, sending Keita flying forward with a ball to the head. He looked a little unconscious, but Daichi had no intention of getting close enough to check. With no prior warning whatsoever, Hinako had dove in with a fancy pirouette and launched the ball at Otome. He didn't even realize that she was in the game.

There was another shower of dust and stonework as Yamato got his hands on that devilish projectile again. Hiro had to dig it out of the rubble. Daichi dropped to the floor and rolled across the gym, tripping Joe while he was at it, but hey, every man for himself, right? He almost felt bad that Joe from promptly removed from the game by Io. Almost. Daichi was a little ashamed to say that he was nearly out himself… eyes on Io's…

"Better keep your attention on the dodge ball, Daichi!" Hiro called.

He threw himself to the left. The crack that sounded next to his ear sounded like a gunshot. Yamato must have thrown it. Daichi took the ball, muttered an apology under his breath, and aimed at Io. Better to be taken out by him than the other two brutes, right? She skipped backward to avoid it and Daichi remembered that Io was no woman to be trifled with. Ah, how she had punched out those food-stealing rioters… the ball came back at him. He got out of the way.

Who was even left? Just him, Hiro, Yamato, Io, Hinako, and… Jungo the Cat just took out Hinako. How? How?

"What an interesting addition to our forces," Yamato observed. "A common feline with the strength and reflexes to rival human demon tamers."

Hiro's bunny ears danced in the rush of wind as Yamato narrowly missed his head. Daichi gulped. To be willing to shoot to kill his favorite ally… Daichi said his prayers. Then he took the ball. Io took the hit with nary a grimace and walked up to the stands. Just three… er… four competitors left. The ferocity in the eyes of his opponents was beyond absurd. Not for the first time and not for the last, Daichi wondered how he managed to always surround himself with bloodthirsty people. The world was collapsing as is and here they were in a batter gymnasium playing a game of dodge ball like their lives depended on it!

But, Daichi amended as he twisted his body around, it could be that lives were indeed at stake. He wove around another attack, ducked beneath another, and even slid right through the gap between Hiro's legs to avoid Yamato's wrath. Hiro did some crossbreed of a cartwheel and break-dance move to avoid getting hit that time. Daichi spared a thought to admire his friend's reflexes. Then he was running again on legs that felt like pudding. He wheezed and dropped behind some rubble. Just a few seconds, split seconds. Why was everyone ganging up on him now? He lamented his pitiful fate as he scrambled out of the way again.

"You're very agile, Shijima," Yamato said.

Something about the way he said it made Daichi shiver. He risked a glance over his shoulder and his eyes widened in alarm at the glowing violet orb in the other teen's gloved palm. Megido!?

"Dodge this."

"You don't use that in dodge ball!" he yelled, rather shrilly.

Hiro stood off to the side, one hand held over his incredulous grin, and that was the last thing Daichi saw before the world went bright and purple.

"Well…" Hiro clicked his tongue.

Daichi came to staring at the ceiling and blinking black spots out of his vision. Hiro came into view a moment later.

"I guess he got impatient?" Hiro suggested lightly.

He groaned and rolled to his feet to see a pile of debris. Fumi was there on top of it all, tapping away at her laptop. She looked pleased. Makoto just looked altogether bewildered and distressed. Daichi didn't recall seeing her in the action. She either missed it or watched from the sidelines and he was very jealous.

"Heeey," Fumi greeted. "Everyone awake now? I was watching from a distance for awhile. Got some good stats on everyone's abilities. And seriously, what's with that cat? I'd like to run some scans on his brain and figure out if there's anything different about his biological makeup causing his abnormal intelligence and physical prowess."

Daichi tuned her out, noticing that Yamato was holding up the aforementioned cat with a strange look on his face.

"—so I was thinking that he'd make a great mascot, what do you say, Chief?" Otome finished whatever explanation she had given with a cute wink.

"Hmph," Yamato responded. "He did win the game. Very well. I'm afraid now is not the time to fit him for a uniform, however."

Slowly, Daichi turned to Hiro. Hiro just smiled back, eyes crinkled in amusement, as he clapped his childhood friend on the shoulder and went to check on the others.

"How did this happen?" he bemoaned to no one.

Sometime Earlier…

The large clock in the main hallway ticked and tocked loudly in the silence as Hiro considered what to do with the rest of his night. Though he had essentially been dismissed by Yamato's act of seating himself to organize reports, he remained standing in front of the large desk as he pondered his options. Daichi was long gone, down some hallway or another, possibly running more errands for whoever called him over. The yellow-clad agents were always in need of extra hands for anything from dish-washing duty to nursing. With nothing else to do, the idea of joining his friend was looking appealing. Coming up with a vague idea as to who might need some assistance, Hiro nodded his head decisively and moved to leave. He was stopped when Yamato spoke up again. There was a confused lilt to his voice, a tone that the confident young leader rarely took.

"Hiro," he began, hesitant, "what is dodge ball?"

His lips quirked in a smile that Daichi would have recognized—and fled from.

"I'll show you some time," he said to the JP's leader. "When we have a little down time."