How to Freak Out Your Roommate, a prince of tennis fanfic

This is inspired by 380 Ways To Freak Out Your Roommate: No. 184 and 219. It's totally random, and utter crack.

I guess you could say its in the same world as North Tower, Fourth Floor.

And once again, this is no longer a joint account. It now belongs to me, Nithila. For more information, please look at my profile.

Fuji walked into the room with a basket under his arm, smiling. Ryoma looked up at him warily.

"How was your day, Echizen?" He asked, as he started unpacking the basket. He took out a potato and placed it on the table.

Then he took out another.

And another.

And around twenty more.

"Fine?" Ryoma said, slightly unnerved by the sheer number of potatoes.

"Good, good!" Fuji smiled, arranging the potatoes neatly on his dresser. That done, he took out a permanent marker and began to draw faces on them.

"...Fuji-senpai."

"Hm?"

" Are you alright?"

"Of course! Why would you ask?"

He was a third year in high school, drawing smiley faces on potatoes. If that wasn't something to worry about, nothing was.

At that moment, Kirihara chose to enter the room. "Oi, Echizen, I wanted to ask you - er, Fuji-san?"

"Yes?" Fuji didn't look up. He concentrated hard on a slightly squashed potato, squinting slightly as he carefully drew an extremely detailed sneer on it.

There was a pause as Ryoma and Kirihara stared blankly at him, waiting for him to finish.

"Aha!" The tensai said at last. He held the potato up proudly for them to see.

It was squashed, deformed, with narrowed eyes, arching eyebrows, and a twisted expression, and with its tiny, pointed canines showing through its sneer.

Fuji grinned. "It looks just like Kirihara-kun, don't you think?"

Kirihara let out a high pitched squeak.

"That's what we'll name him, then!" Fuji announced. He smiled affectionately at the potato in his hand. "Hello, Kirihara-kun! How do you like your new house?"

Kirihara staggered a bit, then turned and left the room.

Fuji smirked, eyes glinting evilly, and Ryoma decided to pretend he hadn't seen that.

Two days later, Ryoma woke up, and without really meaning to, looked at the loving potato family on Fuji's dresser. It was a most elaborate collection. Male potatoes, female potatoes, waitresses, policemen, postmen - and, of course, Kirihara.

Ryoma paused. His eyes widened. He hurried towards the dresser and scanned the potatoes again.
And again.

"Is something wrong, Echizen?" Fuji's soft voice came from directly behind him. Kirihara looked up from where he sat at the other end of the room, curious.

"Kirihara is...missing." Ryoma pointed out.

Kirihara pointed to himself for a moment, confused, and then realized what he was talking about. He dropped his hand and glared. "Good riddance."

"But why is he gone?" Ryoma asked, curious despite himself. He wondered if it was bad that he'd started referring to the potatoes as humanoid objects.

It probably was.

"I ate him." Fuji said simply.

Ryoma stared. "...You ate him"

Fuji nodded brightly. "I baked him, and ate him."

Kirihara remained speechless.

"...but why?" Ryoma asked again.

Fuji opened his eyes and smirked again, eyes glinting as devilishly as they had the day Potato Kirihara was christened. "I meant to all along," he said, smirking. "He never did belong."

Kirihara stood up, and sat down again, opening his mouth and shutting it repeatedly.

Ryoma decided to forget about the whole issue for the sake of his sanity.

The next time, it was a watermelon. Thankfully, there was only one, and the face that Fuji drew on it was so adorable that not even Kirihara had the heart to insult it.

The watermelon was named Usa-chan, and no one dared question why. Fuji slept with her every night, tucking her under the covers as gently as one would tuck in his child. On one such night, well past midnight, Fuji shook Ryoma awake urgently. It took awhile, but at last, Ryoma squinted up at him groggily, silently demanding, 'What do you want?'

"Echizen, Usa-chan wants to sleep with you," Fuji said seriously.

Ryoma spared a moment to give his senior an incredulous look before turning around and pulling the covers back over his head.

"Echizen, I mean it. She really wants to. She's crying about it."

Ryoma didn't reply.

"Echizen, if you don't let her -"

"Usa-chan can kill herself for all I care."

Fuji stiffened, then turned and walked away. Ryoma sighed in relief.

Minutes later, there was a loud creak as the window opened, and a loud thump as something hit the ground three floors down. Ryoma sat bolt upright.

Fuji glanced at him, eyes cold and emotionless. "Usa-chan killed herself," he said quietly.

Ryoma stared at him.

"It's your fault," Fuji continued, voice barely above a whisper. "I'll never forgive you for that."

The next day, the watermelon's funeral was held, and both Kirihara and Ryoma were forced to attend.

Fuji kept eying him dangerously and making snide remarks about the cause of death.

Ryoma tried not to care.

A week later, it was a turnip, and this time, they were prepared. Or at least, they thought they were.

At night, he and Kirihara teamed up, kidnapped 'Turry-kun', and disposed of him in Atobe's private trash can.

(They weren't entirely sure why.)

Fuji figured out what had happened, and they never heard the end of it.

They were now blamed for both Usa-chan's death and the turnip's cremation.

"Help," Ryoma declared one day, seeming rather determined. This was Ryoma-speak for, 'We need to get someone to help us and stop this craziness before I lose the remnants of my sanity.'

"Help," Kirihara agreed, nodding, which was Kirihara speak for, 'You are entirely correct.' He thought for a moment. "Yukimura-senpai?" He suggested.

Ryoma considered it. "Yukimura-senpai," he agreed.

Their intellectual monosyllabic conversation thus accomplished, the two of them made their way to Yukimura and Sanada's room.

"Yukimura-senpai, we -"

They froze.

Potatoes.

A watermelon.

Turnips.

All with detailed facial expressions on them, lay around Yukimura's room. Further inspection revealed that there were grapes, too.

"Ah, Echizen-kun, Kirihara-kun!" Yukimura smiled. "Is there anything you need."

Ryoma shook his head. "Nothing."

"Nothing at all," Kirihara added. They turned and left the room.

"Grapes?" Ryoma asked, slightly worried.

"Grapes," Kirihara confirmed mournfully.

The next day, Fuji turned up outside their room with a plastic bag full of grapes. Ryoma and Kirihara teamed up, kicked him out, and locked the door in his face. They didn't let him in for the rest of the day.

Fuji didn't seem to mind. Witnesses informed them that he'd spent the rest of the day sitting against the door, smiling proudly to himself, and squishing the grapes one by one, muttering various names under his breath.

Some of which sounded suspiciously like their own.

"Sanada-senpai," Kirihara started one day, peeking into his senior's room. "Have you seen any apples recently?"

Sanada gave him his best death glare, and Kirihara fled the room.

Yukimura chuckled.

"It was fun," Fuji said, smiling, as he and Yukimura watched Ryoma and Kirihara through the room window. The two boys were running around the school grounds frantically, trying to find out how to dispose of a rather creepy looking, rotten tomato.

Yukimura smiled back. "It was fun."

He picked up an apple from a desk nearby, and bit into it.

No. 184: Collect potatoes. Paint faces on them and give them names. Name one after your roommate. Separate your roommate's potato from the others. Wait a few days, and then bake your roommate's potato and eat it. Explain to your roommate, "He [/She] just didn't belong."

No. 219: Buy a watermelon. Draw a face on it and give it a name. Ask your roommate if the watermelon can sleep in his/her bed. If your roommate says no, drop the watermelon out the window. Make it look like a suicide. Say nasty things about your roommate at the funeral.

Please review!