"Fuji-senpai, I don't think this is an appropriate place to take your kohai."

"No," says Fuji, all smiles, "it's really not."

Playing Echizen at billiards had proved nearly as enjoyable as playing him at tennis, even with Echizen being a beginner, and an idea had begun to take shape. They'd get to play billiards, which Fuji enjoyed, and they'd win some money, which had the potential for amusement.

Fuji had suggested they pose as brothers.

"Buchou wouldn't approve," Echizen had said. He hadn't seemed too upset about that.

"Ahh. Well, Tezuka isn't here." The whys and hows of that were better left unsaid. "And I suppose what Tezuka doesn't know won't hurt him."

The pool hall is smoke-filled and noisy, and Echizen's hands are shoved deep into his jacket as they head down the stairs. Fuji has his tennis bag with him, but other than that they look like any two kids out of place in an adult playground.

"Aren't you two a little young to be here?" asks the man behind the desk. He has hairy arms and stubble that reminds Fuji of Yamato-buchou.

Fuji pretends to look confused. "Is there an age limit? I just wanted to teach my brother the basics. Not that I know very much either..."

The man snorts, but takes their money and points at a table anyway.

For awhile, Fuji has fun 'teaching' Echizen. This is a table, Ryoma-kun. This is a cueball, Ryoma-kun. This is a rack, this is chalk, and this is a cue, Ryoma-kun. Put the stick between your fingers and pull back. Smoothly, Ryoma-kun. And Echizen to his credit takes it all in stride, letting Fuji lean over him and guide his hands. They break together and it's awkward, all the middle balls staying in place while the outer ones scatter but don't go in.

"You two new here?" someone asks not thirty seconds later.

That couldn't have gone better if Fuji had planned it himself.

Fuji straightens up. "Yes, this is our first time here." There are two guys, one skinny and tall, the other stocky and short, both probably around twenty or so. They're both smiling in a way that makes Fuji think they don't have much practice at it, which is a shame. Practice is the only way to get good at things that are hard to understand. Fuji smiles, brightly. Echizen doesn't react at all.

"You kids look too young to be here."

"Everyone keeps saying that," Echizen mutters under his breath, but his voice is missing the edge that Fuji has come to expect.

Fuji puts a hand on Echizen's shoulder. "I'm just teaching my brother to play 9-ball."

The skinny one eyes the table with its failed break. "Not doing such a hot job at it, are you?"

"Ah." Fuji bites his lip. "I haven't played too often myself."

Echizen, on cue, looks up at the two men with wide eyes. "Maybe you could help us," he suggests.

"Yeah, all right," laughs the stocky one. "Since you asked so nice. But none of this nine-ball crap. We're playing a proper game." He reaches under the table and pulls out the rest of the balls and begins to rack them up.

"I've never played a game with all those before," says Fuji.

"It's simple, kid. We'll go easy on you." The skinny one carefully considers cues before pulling one off the wall and chalking up. He wipes blue dust onto his black t-shirt as he eyes Fuji and Echizen. "We'll even let you have the break," he says generously. "Since you're beginners and all."

"What could it hurt?" Fuji relents. Echizen nods, his jaw set.

He wants to give Echizen an award for the nervous glance he throws in Fuji's direction before leaning over the table. Echizen slides the cueball into place and shakily pulls back his stick before managing to both make a terrible break and sink the four-ball.

The skinny one marks the green board against the wall as Echizen hands Fuji his cue. "Okay, kids, you got one in, so you're solids and we're stripes."

"Solids?" asks Echizen.

"Stripes?" asks Fuji.

"Do you want to play for money?" asks the meaty one. "Just a friendly little bet. Say...1000 yen to the team that gets rid of all of their balls and sinks the eight."

Fuji frowns. "Gambling? But that's wrong."

"Oh, come on, Syuusuke," Ryoma says, grabbing Fuji's elbow the same way Yuuta used to whenever he needed Fuji's attention or protection. "Dad gave us enough spending money."

"Fine, Ryoma-kun. 1000 yen." The two guys murmur their approval. Fuji's fingers flex around the cue, wood warped by hundreds of players' hands giving under his palms. "But there's a problem."

"What's that?" Echizen asks.

"This cue doesn't fit me."

Echizen brushes his hair off his forehead, like he's trying to adjust a cap that isn't there. "Then you should use your own."

"You have the best ideas," Fuji replies, tossing the cue back to Ryoma. He kneels down and unzips his tennis bag, pulling free the heavy case within. He flips the latches open.

"Hey, what's the big idea?" he hears the skinny one complain. Fuji screws the bottom piece to the middle of the stick, then secures the top.

When he stands again, Echizen has his game face on, and their opponents are already shuddering. Then they get a look at Fuji.

Fuji smiles. "It's my shot, right?"

The seven goes down next.

"Hakugei," Echizen narrates as the cueball rolls back in Fuji's direction. The few people gathered around their table look at them like they've each grown a second head.

Fuji supposes most people don't play billiards like they play tennis, but then again he and Echizen aren't most people.

"Drive B," Fuji tells the growing crowd as the three curves around the twelve and ten and on into the corner pocket. He and Echizen touch fists.

"Tsubame Gaeshi," mumbles Echizen as the cueball whirls and stops a few centimeters short of the corner pocket where the five-ball met its doom. His voice is barely audible over the gasps of the spectators, but Fuji hears him perfectly.

"Heh," Fuji says as the one and the two simultaneously drop into opposite side pockets. "Split step."

"Disappearing serve," says Echizen. "Hn. Or disappearing bank shot?" He grins at Fuji. Fuji doesn't know if he's ever seen Echizen smile so genuinely, and it's overwhelming how much that makes Fuji want to stop smiling, if only for a minute. Instead, he watches as the six-ball sinks, leaving the eight for Echizen on clean up.

"Mada mada dane." The eight-ball rolls and drops into a corner, sealing their win.

"Zero shiki? You're awesome, Ryoma-kun."

Echizen smirks and rests his cue against his shoulder. "You're not so bad yourself, aniki."

Fuji's eyes go wide.

The two guys grudgingly hand over the thousand yen, and then everyone wants to play them, even knowing how they can play. It's fun. Fuji really likes billiards.

"What do you think Tezuka would say now?" says Fuji, leaning close to Echizen's ear as they win their fifth straight game.

"You think about buchou too much, Fuji-senpai," Echizen replies. He turns his head, face centimeters from Fuji's. "What he doesn't know, right?"

"I thought you two were brothers," interrupts their last opponent.

Fuji looks up and tilts his head, keeping his hand on the back of Echizen's neck. "What, this isn't the way brothers act?"

Echizen makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort.

All told, they win 9000 yen and a pair of pants. Fuji had been willing to let the poor guy who'd left his wallet in his other pants slide on his payment, but he'd insisted. But at least this way he'd always know where his money was.

"I think these will fit at least two people," says Fuji, stretching his arms wide and holding the pants up to his waist. "Care to find out, Echizen?"

Echizen rolls his eyes and doesn't answer.

Fuji treats Echizen to ice cream, and he's surprised by the sheer amount of it Echizen's little body can put away. He's also surprised to be surprised, since it happens so rarely. But he doesn't mind; dessert is more than paid for by their winnings, and even if the only evidence of their hard work had been the sticky-sweet smear of chocolate left at the corner of Echizen's mouth, then Fuji still thinks it would have been worth it.

"Thank you for indulging me, Echizen," says Fuji. He tears his napkin into shreds, molding the remains into a paper mountain.

Echizen drags the back of his hand across his mouth and the chocolate is gone. "It was nothing, senpai."

END.