Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis or any real world organizations referenced within this fic.

Note: Many thanks and cookies to the lovely Lissie Lupin who held my hand while I wrote this, offered her insight, and betaed it for me. She's lovely and is the only reason I ever finished this piece.

Seducing the Mushroom King

SUMMER

There was no one in the world Katsu Ren hated more than Hiyoshi Wakashi.

Summer break had ended and school had started once more. As if move in day didn't supply a ridiculous amount of stress under normal circumstances, Katsu had been ambushed in his bed during the middle of the night. He was blindfolded, had a wadded up ball of grip tape shoved into his mouth, and was dragged to an unknown room. He was fairly certain he was a sacrifice in some crazy ritual. But that wasn't even the worst of it.

He. Was. Naked.

Whoever it was that had attacked him shoved him to a hard floor that felt cold beneath his unbound hands. He spit out the ball of tape, the horrid taste of rubber lingering on his tongue. The blindfold was untied and fluttered to the ground. He looked up, his hazel eyes struggling to make out the vague silhouettes; everything was fuzzy without his glasses.

"It seems our guest is finally starting to understand."

Katsu's eyes went wide. He knew that voice. That voice belonged to—

"Atobe, shut up," Shishido hissed.

Katsu was surrounded by Atobe Keigo and the other ex-regulars who had graduated the previous year. That's when it hit Katsu like one of Ohtori's serves: he was being hazed by the crazy Hyotei tennis players.

He was going to kill Hiyoshi if it was the last thing he did. If Hiyoshi hadn't quit tennis after their first year, if he had just stuck with the team and had become captain, Katsu would not have to deal with this crap.

"Can I have my boxers back?" Katsu groaned. He moved so he was sitting on his knees, his hands placed over his groin. The ex-regulars, however, were cavalier as hell about a naked third year sitting on the locker room floor.

"You took his boxers?" Mukahi asked, looking at Shishido. "Perv."

"They slipped! Besides, I was expecting Hiyoshi," Shishido grumbled. "But when I went to his room, Choutarou and he told me this idiot was made captain because Hiyoshi never rejoined."

Atobe snapped his fingers, punctuated by a sharp, "Quiet." The old regulars followed, obedient as ever.

Katsu watched with dread as Atobe approached him, the heir's haughtiness and confidence making Katsu hyperaware of that fact that he was holding his junk in his hands.

"Stand," Atobe ordered. Katsu did as he was told, not surprised when he only came up to Atobe's nose. He was short, naked, and being examined by the most powerful person to walk through the halls of Hyotei. Not exactly how he wanted to start his final year of high school.

"Who are you?" Atobe questioned.

"I was on the pre-regulars last year—"

Atobe held up a hand. "Don't answer, you imbecile." He hummed, circling Katsu like a vulture. Katsu could feel his olive skin heating up. Without warning, Atobe asked, "Why is it that you are captain and not Hiyoshi?"

"He quit," Katsu answered. "You were there when he quit, Atobe-buchou, over the summer."

"Why is it that he did not join again?" Atobe was standing right in front of him, a hair's width away from the naked boy. "Why is it that you, someone whom I have never heard of—"

"I was on the pre-regular team last year—"

"—is the captain of the almighty Hyotei tennis team?"

"Uh, the club advisor made me captain since Ohtori couldn't control a fly. Look, am I in trouble or—?"

"We had this whole hazing thing we were going to do with Hiyoshi," Mukahi said. He was holding a backpack that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Maybe they were going to sacrifice him to the tennis gods to make sure Hyotei's tennis club succeeded. Great, he was going to die because these people took tennis way too seriously.

"I suppose he will have to do, Gakuto," Oshitari said with a small sigh. "Pity, though. Hiyoshi was much more fun to tease."

"Are you allergic to any of the ingredients in silly string?" Shishido asked with a malicious grin. "Or markers? Icing, confetti, ice water?"

Katsu was suddenly circled by Atobe, Shishido, Oshitari, Mukahi, and Akutagawa. He desperately wished Hiyoshi was in his spot, like he should be, and that he was back in his bed. But that wasn't the case. The naked third year was ensnared by his old senpai, each wearing a mischievous smile and wishing Katsu was Hiyoshi.

"Congratulations on making captain. What was your name again? I suppose it doesn't matter," Atobe said. "Jirou, the silly string."

"Hey!" Katsu protested, lifting his hands and trying to block the onslaught of silly string. "Hey! Stop. I said, stop! Help!"

Katsu Ren was going to kill Hiyoshi Wakashi.

.

Katsu took three showers when he returned to his dorm, put on a pair of boxers, then crawled into his bed. His entire body ached and he had sugar in places sugar did not belong. He would be much happier buried six feet under, but he wasn't that lucky.

His roommate slept through the whole thing, oblivious as always to the world around him. How that blind fool became a floor advisor was beyond Katsu. Katsu's roommate only woke up when his alarm clock blared at seven in the morning.

"Mornin'," muttered Harada Yuu as he sat up and stretched like a cat. His green eyes drifted to Katsu's bed where the tennis captain was holding a pillow over his head. Harada walked over, their dorm room's carpet tickling his bare feet, and yanked the pillow off of Katsu's head.

Katsu's hands shot to his neck, but it had been too late; Harada was doubled over laughing. Scribbled on the back of Katsu's olive-skinned neck was: good luck not Hiyoshi.

"Atobe knows how to do henna." Katsu sat up, grabbed his pillow, and thwacked the awkwardly tall boy over the head with it. "You let me get kidnapped! You're the student in charge of this floor, aren't you supposed to keep things like that from happening?"

"It was my first night on the job, give me a break." Harada scratched at his bare chest as a grin broke across his lips. "Hiyoshi lives in 2C. That's right down the hall."

"So?" Katsu rubbed at his face, which was still sticky from all that icing. His face changed as he remembered why he had been attacked last night. With menace in his eyes and a snake-like hiss, Katsu muttered, "Hiyoshi Wakashi must die."

"Murder can wait," Harada said passingly as he walked over to his small cabinet. He opened the faded wooden doors and grabbed the duffle bag from the bottom; he hadn't finished unpacking his clothes yet.

"Murder is more important than whatever it is you have planned." Katsu grabbed his square, black, thick-framed glasses off his nightstand and shoved them over his hazel eyes. He rolled out of bed and walked over to his cabinet where his clothes were hanging.

"Whatever you say, Kat. Just a suggestion, though. You might want to post something on the board in the common room about practice days since you're captain and all."

That was the problem, Katsu thought as he pulled on a collared shirt to hide his new tattoo. He wasn't supposed to be captain. Hiyoshi Wakashi was supposed to be in his shoes. That stupid mushroom head was supposed to still be playing tennis, not sitting on the sidelines. Katsu didn't even know why Hiyoshi had quit in the first place.

"You're a student advisor," Katsu said, a light of realization washing over him like the ice-water Shishido had dumped on him.

"Yeah. What of it?"

"You have access to student records if the guy lives on your floor."

"Yeah..."

"So that means you can see why Hiyoshi quit. It's the tennis club, people can't just quit. You need to fill out forms and stuff. That had to have been documented."

Harada shook his head as he stepped into his shorts. "I'm not allowed to tell you that. Even if I was, I wouldn't tell you that. The only person who can tell you that is Hiyoshi."

Katsu, now completely dressed, turned to face his best friend. "I only want to know why he quit. I mean, he's Hiyoshi. That guy is a stubborn mushroom. He wouldn't just quit!"

"Leave it alone, Kat," Harada said. "You're captain; he's not, so just deal with it. C'mon, let's get breakfast and grab our books. I want to check out our common room, too."

Katsu's shoulders slumped. The one chance he had at figuring out why Hiyoshi quit had been Harada and that obviously wasn't going to happen.

He followed Harada out of their room, 2A, feeling incredibly short next to him. When they passed 2C, Hiyoshi and Ohtori's room, Katsu felt even smaller. He wasn't meant to be captain. He wasn't. Hiyoshi was.

.

The second floor common room was packed when Katsu posted the notice about tennis practice on the bulletin board that was already covered in dozens of obnoxious, flamboyant flyers. He pinned it carelessly next to the one Harada had posted for the swim team, then turned and saw a few familiar faces amongst the third year boys, including Hiyoshi.

Hiyoshi was sitting in a beanbag next to Ohtori discussing their schedules and catching up on summer adventures. Not that Hiyoshi had anything to tell. Katsu figured that boy was as dull as a rock. The guy just looked boring.

Katsu walked past the beanbags where the two sat, plopping down onto the circular leather sofa near two boys who he did not recognize. The two both sported short brown hair and casual smiles, neither looking overly impressive or dull. One had freckles and the other had big ears and a bigger nose.

"I'm Ikeda and that's Aoki," the boy with the big nose said, jerking his thumb to the freckled boy named Aoki. "We live in 2D. You're Katsu, right?"

Katsu nodded. Aoki pointed his own face and said, "Your glasses are crooked."

Katsu reached up and adjusted his black frames, wishing they would stay straight for once. As if terrible eyesight wasn't bad enough, he had uneven ears and had the tendency to be attacked by crazy ex-tennis players. He figured he won the Unlucky Gene drawing when conceived.

"Looks like we got a good floor," Ikeda said conversationally. He gazed around the floor's common room, eyeing the boys present. His eyes eventually settled on Katsu. "When are tennis try outs?"

"I posted the information on the board. You'll also get it in the e-mail for campus announcements or whatever." Katsu furrowed his thin black eyebrows in confusion. "Since when do you play tennis?"

Ikeda shrugged with a smug grin. "Figured I give it a shot. With all the old regulars gone, I think it's time for me to step up to the plate."

Katsu's angular features seemed to harden. "Mm-hmm."

"I read this great article over the summer so I figure I can help some of the first years out, you know?"

Katsu saw Aoki roll his eyes as Ikeda continued. Katsu didn't listen, though. Instead, he watched Ohtori approach the sofa with his usual, gentle expression. Ohtori had not changed much over the years — a new haircut here or there, he grew a bit taller, but never really changed those little things that made him who he was.

"Did Shishido-san come and get you last night?" Ohtori asked, sounding somewhat guilty. Katsu figured he deserved to be guilty. He had a temporary tattoo and was permanently scarred thanks to Ohtori's ignorant honesty.

"He found me and was very upset that I was not Hiyoshi." Katsu turned his head just enough to see Hiyoshi, who was watching them. Hiyoshi didn't turn his head when Katsu's hazel eyes found him. Like Ohtori, Hiyoshi had not changed all that much, if at all. Katsu looked back at Ohtori and said, "They thought he should have rejoined by now. What exactly happened to him again?"

"Well, I guess he could have, but it's his choice and not my place to say," Ohtori replied, looking warily at Ikeda and Aoki before returning his attention to Katsu. "I'll see you at the first practice. You have my number if you want to talk about what we're doing. I mean, what you're doing, Katsu-buchou."

Katsu smiled. "Katsu's fine. You don't hear me calling you Ohtori-fukubuchou."

Ohtori returned Katsu's smile and walked away, returning to his bean bag. Katsu caught Hiyoshi's eyes before he turned to talk to Ohtori.

"I don't know why that oaf is vice-captain," Ikeda said. "He's useless without Shishido."

Katsu turned his head to look at Ikeda, who Katsu decided he did not like in the least.

At least he didn't have to say anything to shut Ikeda up; Harada had entered the room and clapped his hands, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. Harada always took the attention in the room, according to what Katsu had heard from his small pool of female acquaintances. Personally, Katsu thought it was because Harada was nearly as tall as Ohtori, maybe taller, and not because he was "Hot Hara."

"I'm Harada Yuu, your floor advisor."

"Don't even get me started on him," Ikead murmured.

Katsu visibly rolled his eyes at the boy's comment. He had a response on the tip of his tongue — "Don't even get me started on you" — but held himself back. It was the first day of the school year and classes didn't start for a week. The last thing he needed was to make an enemy who could potentially jump him during the night. Oh, wait, that had already happened.

"I'm in 2A. Any complaints should be brought to me," Harada continued. "Lights out at ten. Alcohol, drugs, pets, candles, and other forbidden items will be confiscated. The full list of illegal items can be found on the bulletin board. You can find the official school calendar, team practice dates, and floor announcements on the board as well. Basically, all the crap you need to know is on the bulletin board."

Harada sighed and his muscles shoulders, toned from hours in the school pool, dropped. "Just don't piss me off and don't do anything stupid, and I'm sure we'll be fine."

He strode across the room, his long legs allowing for him to move quickly. He sat down next to Katsu and tossed an arm over the back of the leather sofa. The room filled with noise at that point, returning to how it was before Harada made his announcement.

"By the way, Kat," Harada said, knocking his foot against Katsus's, "Hiyoshi came by earlier to tell me to wish you luck."

"I highly doubt that," Katsu replied dully.

Katsu remembered he was supposed to be planning that boy's murder. Hiyoshi was going to die, Katsu just wasn't quite sure how. His top idea consisted of hammers, stealing acid from the chemistry department, and a yet-to-be-determined dumping site.

.

Katsu gazed across the courts, taking in the familiar faces and the new. He was standing where Atobe had once stood. He was standing as the leader of the famed Hyotei tennis club. He was standing as the best tennis player of them all.

He was going to puke.

He put a hand over his gut as if that would stop the contents of his stomach from being all wishy-washy. He did not want his first act as captain to be vomiting on a poor little first year. He also did not want urinating in public to be his first act as captain. Or being attacked by a squirrel on acid. The more he thought about, the more things he added to the list.

A large hand on his shoulder made him jump. He turned and saw Ohtori smiling and removing his freakishly large hand from Katsu's shoulder. "Everyone is waiting."

"That's great," Katsu murmured. "But what exactly am I supposed to do?"

Hesitantly, Ohtori shrugged. "Just do what Atobe-buchou did?"

"You want me to snap my fingers, toss my jacket into the sky, and turn them into my brainwashed, zombie chanting slaves?"

"When you put it like that, I guess not. Unless you want to do that." Another hesitant shrug. "Introduce yourself?"

Katsu sighed. Hiyoshi would know what to do. Hiyoshi had probably been trained by Atobe himself to be captain. Even if he wasn't, he had some experience from when he was captain back in junior high. Katsu, on the other hand, couldn't even spell the word "captain" in his current state. He could barely contain his undigested breakfast.

Ohtori gave Katsu a gentle nudge forward. His movement caught the attention of the club members, who were staring at him like he knew what he was doing. Everyone went silent and they were watching him and he could feel his stomach moving up his throat.

"My name is Katsu Ren. Um..."

Then, his mind went blank the same way it did when he went to take a test. He couldn't remember his year, let alone who he was trying to fool by calling himself captain. He remembered the henna tattoo on the back of his neck: Good luck not Hiyoshi.

"Um," Katsu repeated, his heart racing faster than a hummingbird's. "Like I said, I'm Katsu and—and I'm your captain." He saw a few people's faces twist in confusion. He pointed to Ohtori. "Um... He's, uh..."

"My name is Ohtori Choutarou and I'm your vice-captain." Ohtori stepped forward, incredibly tall compared to Katsu's stumpy height. "We welcome you to the club and hope that you help us reach Nationals once more."

Why had Ohtori been able to say that? Why couldn't he have said that? Why was he already failing as captain?

.

His embarrassing first day was not forgotten. During the next practice, Katsu and Ohtori released information about regular tryouts. The tryouts consisted of a tournament for singles and doubles, which Ohtori planned out. Katsu stood there, unable to comprehend how many people wanted to try for a regulars sport. He had forgotten had large the tennis club was.

Katsu and Ohtori spent their first week before classes in the common room going over tryouts, practice ideas, and practice dates. Hiyoshi was never in the common room unless he was with Ohtori, and if Katsu showed, Hiyoshi disappeared quicker than Katsu's boxers on hazing night.

When Harada's alarm went off on Monday morning, Katsu groaned. He heard Harada's heavy footsteps as he padded over to their bathroom. When the sound of Harada peeing drifted into the room, Katsu sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Close the door!" Katsu shouted. Harada walked out of the bathroom butt naked a few moments later, laughing when Katsu screwed his eyes shut. They were best friends, but there were limits which Harada did not seem to understand.

"First day of classes," Harada said. Katsu didn't need to be reminded.

Katsu got up and showered, then changed into his school uniform. He slung his heavy messenger bag over his shoulder as Harada and he headed off to their first class in the mathematics building. After climbing three flights of stairs and wandering through the halls to find the right room, the two captains found their calculus class. There was just one problem.

"You're joking," Katsu muttered. Hiyoshi Wakashi was sitting in the back row, tapping his fingers idly against his graffitied desk. Katsu walked into the room, approaching the mob that surrounded the teacher's desk. He saw the seating chart and wished he was dead.

"Hey, I'm in front of you," Harada said, pointing to the evil sheet of paper.

Katsu huffed as he marched to the back of the room. He dropped his bag onto the ground and sat in his seat, arms crossed.

"Please tell me you're not always in this bad of a mood," Hiyoshi droned, fingers still tapping.

Katsu refused to answer. Just because he sat next to Hiyoshi Wakashi did not mean he had to talk to him.

Harada sat down in front of Katsu, looking between the two. "Okaaay. Not touching that mass of awkward."

Katsu poked the back of Harada's head with a pencil the entire class.

.

Luckily, Hiyoshi was only in his calculus class. Unluckily, the boy began to show up to tennis practices, probably at Ohtori's request. He sat underneath the tree on the hill, knees bent and a book in his lap. Katsu thought about kicking him out, but decided he needed Ohtori to like him because he was still horrible at this captain thing.

Regular tryouts were next week, but no one respected Katsu yet. All members had lined up to do racquet swings, and Katsu and Ohtori walked around fixing forms. Ikeda had taken it upon himself to stop swinging and fix the form of the person next to him.

"Ikeda, stop th-at!" Katsu ordered. Had his voice just cracked? Oh crap, it had. He could feel all of his blood rush to his face, trying its hardest to make his olive-skin turn red. Eighteen year old boy's voices weren't supposed to crack.

"But his form is all wrong!" Ikeda replied. His large nose was red from too much time in the sun, peeling along the edges. At least Katsu was smart enough to put on sunscreen.

"So is yours! Fix your wrist!" Katsu snapped. He pointed to the empty spot in the line, watching as Ikeda grudgingly walked back into place. Ten minutes later, Katsu saw Ikeda two lines away, scolding a first year.

"Do you want me to take care of it?" Ohtori asked kindly.

"Yes," Katsu sighed.

Ohtori put a hand on his shoulder — as if that made him feel any better — and walked towards Ikeda.

Katsu suddenly felt like he was being watched. He looked around, but the members in the surrounding area were diligently working. Soon, Katsu's hazels eyes drifted to the boy under the tree. Hiyoshi's head shifted back to his book, his eyes no longer focused on the tennis captain he was supposed to be.

.

Katsu had changed into his pajamas earlier than usual and decided to hang out in the common room. He left room 2A wearing only his sweatpants and glasses, and walked into the floor's lounge. He tossed himself onto the sofa where Aoki, Ohtori, and Hiyoshi sat.

His plans to kill Hiyoshi had been put on hold. His last idea had included a given a rabid squirrel acid then putting it in Hiyoshi's room, but that also meant Ohtori could be hurt. Needless to say, he wasn't the scheming type.

"What're you guys watching?" Katsu asked, propping his feet up onto the coffee table. He looked at the television hanging on the wall. When he didn't receive an answer, he moved his eyes to the three boys. "Uh, why are you guys staring at me?"

"I didn't know you had a tattoo," Aoki said. When Katsu furrowed his black eyebrows in confusion, Aoki prompted, "On the back of your neck...?"

Katsu's hazel eyes went wide. The henna tattoo Atobe had given him hadn't completely faded yet.

"What does that say?" Hiyoshi asked, sitting forward and craning his neck. "Is that my—?"

Katsu stood up, clamped a hand to the back of his neck, and returned to his dorm room.

Is that my name?

.

Katsu set his pencil in the crevice in his calculus book. He still believed his teacher made up the word "derivative" just to screw with the class. There was no method to the madness that was calculus; it was numbers and symbols and utter nonsense.

He pulled the tryout schedule out from under his textbook. If tennis couldn't clear his mind, he didn't know what could. As he read over the schedule, he rubbed absentmindedly at the back of his neck, fingers running over the fading ink that he had tried so desperately to scrub away with everyone except steel wool.

There was one person who knew what he was going through. That person was two rooms away.

"I want to die," Katsu mumbled. He ran his hands through his short black hair and thought about his options.

Option one: Suck up his pride and go see Hiyoshi.
Verdict: He'd rather be hazed again.

Option two: Cut Hiyoshi's head open, consume his brain, and hope the mushroom head's knowledge would pass onto him.
Verdict: Not a zombie.

Option three: Go in there, pretend to be looking for Ohtori, pussyfoot around the situation until tennis comes up, then steal his knowledge.
Verdict: Why the hell not?

Katsu stood up and left room 2A. He walked down the halls, feelings as though he was walking to the gallows. If he had theme music, it would be a death march.

He stopped in front of the door labeled 2C. He sucked in a deep breath and opened the door. He didn't see anybody at the desk, and the bottom bunk was unoccupied, but the top bunk was. By Ohtori. Darn him.

"Hello," Ohtori greeted as he sat up.

"Is, uh, Hiyoshi here?" Katsu asked, rubbing the back of his neck. He was wearing a t-shirt and his hair wasn't long enough to hide the faded henna tattoo Atobe (bless his evil little soul) had given him nearly two weeks ago.

Ohtori blinked and replied, "Wakashi's in the library. Does Harada need him?"

"Hara? Oh, no. I was just—" Just what? Going to ask the person who unintentionally made his life terrible for captain advice?

Ohtori smiled like he understood which only made Katsu feel even dumber than he already did. Casually, Ohtori said, "He's probably in the mystery section in that big chair."

Katsu nodded, said, "Thanks, Ohtori," then left the room.

He didn't go to the library.

.

Katsu and Ohtori had found their teammates. After the most confusing practice ever and several stolen glances from Hiyoshi, Katsu had announced the results of the regulars tryout tournament.

Ikeda had made the team, much to Katsu's displeasure, but only as singles-three. Everyone was a third year except for singles-two, which was taken by some second year with a killer backhand.

That night, Katsu found himself in Aoki and Ikdea's room with a red cup in his hand. Ikeda's cousin had dropped off a bottle of high quality booze (according to Ikeda) to celebrate him making the team. A few of the floor's other inhabitants were in the room. Harada was swimming and could not chew them out for drinking.

Katsu sat with his back to the corner, his cup clutched in his hands. He heard the door open and looked up to see if they were about to get busted. To his surprise, he saw Hiyoshi and Ohtori. Ikeda shoved cheap plastic cups into their hands and turned up the music.

Ohtori looked over at Katsu, jaw dropped, and Katsu shrugged. Ohtori and Hiyoshi lumbered over, sitting next to the tennis captain. Ohtori stared at the contents of the cup while Hiyoshi stared at Katsu's exposed olive neck.

"What?" Katsu hissed.

"Nothing," Hiyoshi replied. He took a sip of his drink, which surprised Katsu. "Nice tattoo. Atobe-san?"

"Who else would do that?"

Ohtori laughed nervously and set his cup down. "I don't think I'm going to drink any of that..."

Katsu shrugged again. "Suit yourself."

That night, after Harada had busted them for drinking and staying up past lights out, Katsu returned to his room. His dreams were filled with strong hands, wet lips, bare skin, and whispered names.

Hiyoshi...

Katsu sat straight up, his hazel eyes wide. He hunched forward and buried his face in his hands as he groaned, "Eff. My. Life."

.

Katsu pretended the dream didn't happen. If he did randomly remember, he reminded himself that he had been drinking and that he always had funky dreams after he drank. He once dreamt about Harada riding a unicorn in a swimming competition after he drank. It was all in his head.

He managed to go the weekend without seeing Hiyoshi, but when Monday reared its ugly head, Katsu had no choice but to attend calculus and sit next to his least favorite person.

"Can I have a pencil?" Hiyoshi asked. Katsu usually imagined shoving a pencil through his neck, but now he saw the pencil somewhere else.

"Here," Katsu said, tossing a pencil onto Hiyoshi's desk. He didn't look at the boy for the rest of class.

That afternoon, after a particularly tough practice — Ikeda had stopped during the middle of a practice match to correct Katsu's Jupiter Serve — Katsu took a long shower. When he returned to the locker room, it was empty save for one person.

Hiyoshi freaking Wakashi. Not exactly who he wanted to see.

"Why are you here?" Katsu asked, slipping his glasses over his hazel eyes and making sure the knot holding his towel up was tight enough. The last thing he wanted to do was flash Hiyoshi. Or did he want to do that? Crap. What was wrong with him? He blamed the dream.

"Choutarou won't shut up about how worried he is about you. It's annoying," Hiyoshi spat.

"Ohtori shouldn't be going to you with these things, he should be coming to me. I'm his captain."

Hiyoshi shrugged as if he really couldn't care less. "I'm only here so I can go one dinner without having to hear your name."

Katsu could feel his angular features harden and his hazel eyes turn cold. That arrogant, mushroom head jerk. Katsu knew he should have poisoned Hiyoshi's tea while he still had the chance.

Hiyoshi walked farther into the locker room, then sat so he was straddling one of the benches and leaning back on his hands. With obvious abhorrence, he asked, "What the hell is bothering you?"

Katsu sighed, his hard facade breaking. He sat down on the bench a few feet away from Hiyoshi, running his hands through his damp, short, messy black hair.

"I don't know," Katsu groaned as his hands slapped against his thighs. "Ikeda won't shut up, the first years won't listen to me, and the third years keep comparing me to Atobe."

"That's all?" Hiyoshi asked dully. "Suck it up or quit."

"Like you did?"

Hiyoshi scowled, his brown eyes darkening. "I didn't quit because I was weak like you are."

"Then why did you quit?"

Hiyoshi stood up at that moment, moving one leg so he was no longer straddling the bench. The look he gave Katsu was indescribable. "It's none of your business why I quit so stop asking me and stop asking Choutarou for that matter."

Katsu stood up, his heart pounding like a drum. "No, don't walk away from me! It's your fault I'm stuck being the captain of this freaking team. It's your fault I was attacked during the middle of the night, and it's your fault—"

"Keep blaming me, that will make all of your problems go away," Hiyoshi cut in. He approached Katsu and flicked his fingers against the back of Katsu's neck, right over his tattoo. A blush spread across Katsu's olive face. Hiyoshi smirked. "Really? You're blushing?"

"Shut up," Katsu hissed. He jerked back, away from Hiyoshi's nimble fingers.

"You're the captain of Hyotei. At least try to act like it," Hiyoshi said, looking down at the captain, who only came up to his nose. "Don't blame me for your current position. I quit for my own reasons. Suck it up, stand your ground, and prove to them you're a captain."

Hiyoshi pivoted and headed for the door. Katsu stood there, unable to move. He watched as Hiyoshi walked towards the exit, stopping briefly and turning around to face Katsu.

"By the way," Hiyoshi said, pointing to his own nose, "your glasses are crooked."

Katsu waited until Hiyoshi was gone to fix his black framed glasses. It was stupid, really, getting flustered just because Hiyoshi touched his neck and pointed out his glasses, which were always crooked. It was stupid, but it had happened.

.

Katsu's moment of truth came during the next practice. The regulars were playing practice matches and Katsu had been put up against Ikeda, who was quick to correct Katsu's serving pose before the first point even began.

Hiyoshi's words echoed in the back of Katsu's head — "prove to them you're a captain."

Katsu blocked out Ikeda's words and served. His tennis was out of this world, he wouldn't have made the top spot in the pre-regulars as a second year if it wasn't. But when all the anger in the universe was driving his moves, Katsu knew it was the best in Hyotei.

Ikeda could not touch his Jupiter Serves or his Saturn Drop-Shot. Ikeda could return his Pluto Plummet, but it always went out. After several games it became very clear that Katsu was out of Ikeda's league. By the end of the set, Ikeda had been crushed.

"I'm the captain and I think I know how to serve," Katsu stated.

As he walked away, he saw Hiyoshi on the hill. The mushroom head seemed to be smiling, but that was impossible. Hiyoshi didn't smile... Did he?

.

Katsu poked Harada with a pencil during the middle of a calculus lecture. The tall boy turned around. When Katsu mouthed "do you get this?" Harada shrugged, and then faced the board again.

"You need to use substitution," Hiyoshi mumbled. Katsu stared at him. Hiyoshi returned his stare and added a smirk. "You'll need all the luck you can get, not Hiyoshi."

Katsu unconsciously covered the back of his neck as he hissed, "Bite me."

Hiyoshi looked back at his notes. Katsu didn't speak for the rest of class in fear of yelling the boy to death. It was bad enough that Hiyoshi gave him tennis advice — he'd rather fail calculus than have the jerk's help.

.

Katsu sat with his back to the cool, damp tiled wall of the pool room and tried to ignore the awful smell of chlorine. Harada swam back and forth, occasionally whooping when a shorter time flashed on the screen. Katsu patiently waited for his friend as he stared at his calculus homework. His teacher had stopped talking about derivatives and changed to integrals. She was crazy if she expected anyone to understand this.

He turned to a new page in his notebook, scribbling across the top: reasons to kill Hiyoshi Wakashi. The first word he wrote was "hazing," shortly followed by "arrogant," "busybody," and "stupid hair." He realized the last one wasn't the best reason in the world, but it was a reason nonetheless.

He heard heavy wet footsteps and looked up. Harada had pulled himself out of the pool and was rubbing his barely-there brown hair with a towel.

Katsu covered his glasses with his hand until Harada was not standing in front of him and said, "I vote that you change the swim uniform to anything other than speedos."

Harada laughed and pressed his back to the wall. He slid down to the floor, the towel now wrapped around his shoulders. He looked at what Katsu was writing and hummed.

"You forgot 'quit tennis,'" Harada said. "That is why you hate him, right? He quite tennis so you ended up being captain of that crazy ass team."

Katsu tilted his head back and sighed. "I wish I knew why he quit. If it was a decent reason, I probably wouldn't resent him as much. I'd still want to put a poison arrow in his neck, but the urge would lessen."

Harada mimicked his sigh. "It's messed up."

"What's messed up?"

"Why he quit." Katsu lifted his head to stare at his best friend. Harada half-smiled and said, "I seriously can't tell you. If it was just because he got bored or something like that, I would. But it isn't. It's so messed up. I don't think anyone besides your old tennis senpai and the teachers know."

"Was it an injury?" Katsu questioned. "Just say yes or no."

Harada hesitated, and then sighed, "Yes."

"Atobe said Hiyoshi could have rejoined, so he's healed by now." Katsu tapped his pencil against his notebook. "It was over the summer, but it had to be serious if he quit, right? He didn't have a cast when he came back, so no broken bones. A concussion doesn't make sense..."

"I'm not helping you play Guess What That Kid Went Through," Harada said as he stood up. "I'm gonna change then get some dinner. You coming?"

"Yeah. I'll meet you outside the locker room."

Katsu gathered his things and rose to his feet. If it wasn't a broken bone, then what was it? What happened to Hiyoshi Wakashi that was so messed up that he had to quit the thing he loved the most? Katsu didn't know and he couldn't figure it out.

A/N: This story was originally going to be a one-shot, but once I wrote it all out, I decided to break it up into four chapters.