Title: Dressing Right
Fandom: Prince of Tennis: Fudomine Chuugaku
Characters: Kamio Akira, Kikumaru Eiji, Fuji Syusuke
Prompt: 058 - Dinner
Word Count: 961
Date finished: 05/28/2007
Rating: G
Summary: An unlikely meeting.
Author's Notes: Crack Generator again. Kamio/Eiji - Armani. Seriously. How in the world is poor Akira going to actually be able to afford Armani?
Disclaimer: Characters are owned by Konomi Takeshi, and whoever did the anime. At any rate, it's not me.

"I can't afford Armani," Kamio Akira said under his breath, searching through the rack of suits for something he could afford. This opportunity was once-in-a-lifetime, and he wasn't going to miss out on it just because he wasn't dressed right.

"Neither can I," someone said from the other side, and a familiar redhead craned his head around to grin at him.

"Kikumaru," Akira said, surprised. "It's been a while."

Kikumaru Eiji, one half of the Golden Pair of Seishun Junior High, winked. "It has," he said with a grin. "Why are you looking at Armani?"

"I'm not," Akira said. "I'm trying to find something that isn't."

The other man gestured toward the top of the rack. "You won't find that here," he said, looking surprised as well. "That's all that's here. That certainly explains it," he added under his breath.

Akira glanced up at the sign, and then his shoulders drooped. "That's the last rack," he said, feeling like he'd lost his mind. "You'd think they'd have something here."

Kikumaru laughed. "I did, yes. But apparently not." Then his head tilted. "What do you need a suit for?" he asked.

Akira flushed. "A job interview," he said. "I just… need to look professional."

Kikumaru nodded, and stepped closer as if trying to take him in from head to toe. "I might be able to help you," he said, brow furrowed. "It might take a little work, but you're close to the right size, I think…."

"What?"

The other man smiled. "I've got something that should fit you, actually," he said. "Are you done here?"

"Yes."

"Come with me, then."

Utterly mystified, Akira followed him through check out as he bought a white dress shirt, and then found himself engrossed in a conversation about what had happened since they'd last seen each other, years ago at the Nationals tournament for Junior High Tennis. It was, amazingly, a comfortable conversation, even as they stood in the elevator on the way up to Kikumaru's apartment.

It was small, but no where near as cramped as Akira's own; it was also obvious that Kikumaru had a roommate, although that person seemed to be out. The other redhead had him sit on the couch, and he disappeared into one of the bedrooms. When he returned, he carried a nice black suit in fairly good condition. "Here," he said, giving it to him. "See if it fits."

Akira stared at him. "What?"

Kikumaru grinned. "I'm serious. Just try it, for now."

Still stunned, Akira followed his directions to the bathroom and changed. It was a surprise to find that the suit actually did fit, and he returned to the main room at Kikumaru's insistence. "How is it?" he asked.

Akira nodded. "It's nice," he said. It was still in good condition, even though he could tell it had been used, but then this wouldn't be his first second-hand item, either.

He rarely bought anything new these days.

"It looks like it fits well," Kikumaru said.

"It does," Akira agreed.

"Good! It's yours."

Akira stared at him. "What?" he asked.

"I don't need it anymore," Kikumaru said easily.

Akira hesitated. "Can I pay you for it, at least?" he asked.

Kikumaru shook his head, still grinning. "Nope. Call it a good luck gift. For you job interview," he added when Akira just stared at him.

"Thank you," he finally managed to stammer out. "Thank you very much."

Kikumaru merely winked. "You're welcome," he said. "Go get changed."

When he returned to the main room, back in his jeans and t-shirt, Kikumaru bounced to his feet and held out a bag for him to fold the suit into. "Thank you," he said again.

"I'm glad it fit you," Kikumaru said. "I hope you get that job."

Akira smiled. "Thanks," he said. "I appreciate it."

"Eiji?"

The redhead half turned, nearly burning himself in the process on their dinner. "What?"

"What happened to my suit?"

"I gave it away."

His roommate appeared in the kitchen doorway as if he'd teleported there; considering it was Fuji Syusuke, Eiji wouldn't have been surprised if he had. "You what?"

"You said you didn't need it," Eiji protested at the glare from the other man. "I gave it to someone who did."

"You found someone who could use that? They must have been small."

"Yep. Still about your size - a little shorter, but that was all to the better."

"Is this someone I should know?"

At least his irritation had turned to curiosity. "Used to, anyway. Kamio, from Fudomine."

"Ah." And Fuji was gone again.

"What did you need it for?" Eiji called after him.

"Nothing I can't wear something else to," Fuji called back.

The conversation had been completely forgotten three weeks later, when Fuji opened the door, Eiji right behind him, to find Kamio standing there, not Yuuta, like they'd expected for dinner. "Ah, Kamio-kun!" Eiji said with a grin. "Good news?"

Things hadn't looked up for him; he still looked very much down on his luck, and Eiji wondered - again - just how often the young man actually ate. And where he got his clothes, because those were so worn and hung off him like he were a coat rack or something.

The smaller redhead nodded, looking a little uncomfortable. "Yes. I wanted to thank you again. It was a huge help."

Fuji glanced at Eiji, then understanding lit his eyes. "Ah. The suit?" he asked.

"Yes," Kamio said.

"You are welcome," Eiji said. "Would you like to come in?"

"No. I need to get home. I just… wanted to thank you again." He turned away, and Fuji shut the door behind him, turning to Eiji.

"You were right," he said quietly. "He definitely needs it more than I do."

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