Chiyokawa High is crushed to pieces in the Kantou tournament. It's for the best, though Yukimura allows them a pitying smile all the same, and plays singles three as a gesture of thanks for entertaining Sanada for the past few months.

"They were weird!" Marui defends of the points Chiyokawa's doubles one managed to procure. "They just shot all over the place! What was I supposed to do?!"

"It's fine," Yukimura cheerfully tells him, and it is, really, for the most part. Except not. If they had actually dropped a game to Sanada's temporary school, he would have been positively mortified. Lucky for the team (Marui), he's in an exceedingly good mood, and has no intention of changing that any time soon (even if his parents are still awful nags, hounding him at every opportunity even weeks after he's convinced them that the dorms are fine and Sanada is taking care of him and no, he's not going to collapse again and die, go away, mom).

He's also in a good mood even when Atobe finally comes to call on his favors. It's hard not to be in a good mood, honestly, when his evenings are spent with Sanada hissing at him about not doing his homework except for anything that involves drawing, and his mornings spent with Sanada scolding him for not being up sooner (and then continually being pleased at how quickly Yukimura turns from half-asleep blob to concentrated energy on the court, raking anyone and everyone over the coals, Sanada included).

A pool party sounds innocuous enough, but Yukimura knows better. He decides to keep neglecting to tell Sanada about the undefined favors he owes Atobe. It isn't like Atobe is going to do anything too ridiculous-it'll just be… Atobe-ish. That's a term.

Atobe holds out the uniform, an elegantly tailored set of pool-ready clothes, with a huge beaming grin on his face. "For you, pool boy!"

Sanada steps in front of Yukimura, bristling immediately. It had been strange enough that Yukimura actually wanted to go to a party thrown by Atobe. Stranger still that they seem to be at some sort of castle that's somehow still in Tokyo.

But Atobe wanting Yukimura to wear a uniform, and serve drinks...well, that's just unacceptable.

He grabs Atobe by the collar, lifting him into the air. "What's the meaning of this insult?" he thunders.

"Calm down, Sanada, it's fine," Yukimura says with a positively beatific smile, giving his vice-captain a pat on the arm. "I asked quite a bit of Atobe in the past, and I did agree to return the favor…" With a cold drink or two in your lap at this rate, you little shit.

Atobe laughs, handing over a tray of drinks. "Excellent! See, we're all friends here! Yukimura, go on and change, and then you can start serving. Don't worry, no one will bother you, this is a fun party. Sanada, why don't you just...get changed into your swimsuit?"

Sanada glares, then takes the tray from Yukimura. "Any favors you did were on my behalf. I'll do the serving."

"Nonsense, you'd glare at the guests."

"Ah, I should warn you," Yukimura very solemnly says, "that even after all this time, my motor skills just aren't what they used to be. I can't be held liable for anything that is spilled or dropped, though I deeply apologize in advance."

Atobe's face falls, and he says hurriedly, "Of course, I wouldn't want to overburden your body! Please, forget about that, and simply…."

He grins. "Or not. You think I haven't watched you play tennis? Your motor skills are just fine."

Atobe shouldn't be this fun. Yukimura enjoys the challenge of looking terribly pathetic. "Haven't you ever wondered why we never go out to eat afterwards to even celebrate our winnings? I put everything I have into tennis, and afterwards, it's all I can do just to stand. Tell him how many times you've had to carry me back to the train station, Sanada."

"Once," Sanada says with a glare. "Let me do it for you or do it yourself, we don't need to lie to the likes of him."

"I'm detecting an insult."

Yukimura punches Sanada in the shoulder. "We were having fun, don't ruin it! I'm going to do it, anyway, it isn't a problem," he sniffs, and promptly yanks his shirt off and over his head. "Have a read first, won't you, Atobe? Sanada does all of this himself-"

"OI!" Sanada's face heats up, to something approaching the temperature of the surface of the sun. "No one else is supposed to see that!"

Atobe's eyebrows climb, and he walks slowly around Yukimura, appraising from all angles like a work of art. "Ahh...quite intriguing. Hmm, are the scratches supposed to be part of the design?"

"No! Stop looking!"

"Ooh, that's quite a clever wordplay. And to put your name there of all places—"

Sanada gives up, and tosses Yukimura into the pool.

Yukimura comes up sputtering and gasping a few seconds later, scowling up through the soaking wet curtain of his bangs as ink slowly dissipates into the water around him. "Sanada! I wanted to keep those until later when I could write it all down permanently!"

The splash apparently disturbs another guest, previously quietly hidden underneath an umbrella on the other side of the pool. "Is this commotion all really-"

Yukimura hauls himself out of the pool, and promptly shoves Sanada in instead for another, explosive splash.

"-…necessary," Tezuka grinds out when he and his book both end up soaked.

"I'll go get the drinks," Yukimura cheerfully announces, shaking himself off like a dog all over Atobe before gliding off.

"It was imperfect," Sanada calls, kicking onto his back to float serenely in the pool. "I'll write another one later. You can try harder not to breathe."

Atobe wipes a damp piece of hair from his eyes with something that looks like distaste, but isn't. "Thank you for the idea," he says cheerfully to Sanada, and hefts Tezuka easily, tossing him into the pool to join Sanada's swimming.

"I remember it well enough, I'll just write it down myself later," Yukimura tosses back as Tezuka hits the water with a solid splat and sinks rather like a rock. "But it won't be as nice as yours."

"Kei-Atobe," is the low, albeit sort of sputtering snarl Tezuka offers when he resurfaces, bobbing there sullenly. "You could have at least let me take my glasses off. Now they're somewhere at the bottom of the pool-"

"Look, Sanada, aren't you happy that you get to see Tezuka again?" Yukimura brightly interrupts, holding out the tray for Atobe to select his drink.

Sanada starts doing laps. Immediately.

"I'll find your glasses, Kunimitsu!" Atobe says cheerfully. He takes a glass of champagne, downs it and sets the glass back on the tray, and leaps in, forming a perfect cannonball. "Prost!"

Tezuka, fuming, slowly drifts his way over to a corner to tread water and look decidedly grumpy about it.

"Drink?" Yukimura offers him with a smile, plopping down next to the pool.

Tezuka thinks Yukimura is taking his job far, far too seriously. "If you broke them," he hisses after Atobe, "I'm going back to Germany tonight."

Atobe executes a perfect dive, swimming down to the bottom of the pool and easily scooping the glasses off the bottom. "Of course not," he says, beaming, and hands them over. "This pool is twelve feet deep at this end, the water pressure kept them perfectly safe and unscratched. Don't look so angry, save that for the Germans, they like it. Shall I have our pool boy bring you a German beer?"

Yukimura kicks his dangling feet in the water harder, splashing Atobe in the face. "Whoops. Neural misfire."

"Pass," Tezuka deadpans, shaking as much water off of them as he can before putting them back on. "You can also refrain from getting drunk, no one wants to see that."

"Nonsense, I'm entirely sure that I'm a charming drunk. Kabaji, am I a charming drunk?"

"Usu."

"There, you see?" Atobe asks, smile brilliant. He wipes water off of his face, and snaps his fingers at Yukimura. "Two more champagne flutes." Then, for good measure, he dunks Tezuka underwater.

Yukimura can do without the finger-snapping, but he supposes he's done enough of that himself via text messaging over the past few months. A promise is a promise. He gets up with a roll of his eyes, thinking of how satisfying it will be to destroy Hyotei in the nationals. "Sanada, if you stopped doing laps for five seconds, you'd get to watch Tezuka be a worse swimmer than I am," he mildly tosses across the pool. Tezuka, for what it's worth, thrashes and elbows Atobe in the gut.

"Pools are for laps," Sanada says firmly. Especially when those pools have Atobe and Tezuka in them. However, he does pause at the end of his lap, looking back and snorting under his breath. "A Japanese man should know how to swim. You never know when disaster will strike."

"Tsunami!" Atobe says gleefully, and dunks Tezuka again, ignoring the flailing elbows.

"You never mind when I'm drowning," Yukimura idly points out.

"No more tsunamis-you're not a tsunami," Tezuka bites out when he finally manages to come up for air again, hair soaked and in his face as he glowers. "You didn't even give me a chance to put on sunscreen, so if I get burnt out here because of you-"

"What sort of tennis player gets sunburnt? Sanada just turns brown," Yukimura butts in with a grin, setting one glass of champagne on Tezuka's head and watching, impressed, as he manages to balance it (sourly).

"I'll rub aloe vera on you," Atobe volunteers. "It'll be great!" He delicately picks up the champagne and holds it to Tezuka's lips. "This will help you keep from burning," he lies extravagantly.

"You're a horrible liar," Tezuka flatly replies, pushing the glass away. "There's no way that's true."

"Oh, no, Atobe is definitely right. It's a common thing in France," Yukimura sweetly advises.

Tezuka, still looking very, very skeptical, takes the champagne from Atobe with a sigh and sips slowly.

"It has to do with increasing the bloodflow to your surface capillaries," Atobe says enthusiastically, "which allows for greater healing and cooling of the epidermis. Obviously. I did a course in pre-med school in England last summer."

"Hmm, but wasn't that pre-law?" Yukimura idly recalls.

"I did one of those as well. And pre-veterinary, and pre-theater, and one course in pre-business. It's a very well-rounded school."

"Ah, impressive. Small wonder your arm is on the mend, Tezuka, with such a capable friend keeping an eye on you."

Tezuka eyes him. Yukimura beams.

Sanada hoists himself up from the pool, water running in rivulets down his front and back. He strips off his clothing down to his shorts, wringing them out before folding them and setting them by the side of the pool. He eyes Yukimura's body, now only exhibiting the faintest traces of ink. No matter, he'll write a better one later. There's always a better poem. With inspiration like Yukimura, how could there not be?

Atobe doesn't like Sanada much, but he can't deny that the man is sort of perfectly built. His eyebrows raise, and he dunks Tezuka again, just for good measure (and so Tezuka doesn't see him looking).

"Whoops." That's another splash of champagne that just happens to tip off the side of the tray onto Atobe's head, the flute caught delicately between Yukimura's fingertips. "More neural spasms, can't be helped."

Tezuka comes up gasping (and oblivious). "Do you want me to drink or drown?"

"A little of both would be for the best," Atobe says, tongue flicking to the side to catch an errant drop of champagne before he dunks his own head. "It's a wonder that Sanada can draw on you at all, with all those spasms of yours."

"It isn't easy," Sanada says, stretching out his shoulders. "He's squirmy."

"It's better when I'm sleeping," Yukimura agrees without batting an eye, tilting his head back to watch Sanada himself. "He's sneaky about it."

Tezuka slowly and steadily starts paddling away.

"Kunimitsu! Let me practice calligraphy on your body!"

"Absolutely not, your calligraphy is horrible!"

"That's why I need to practice! Kabaji, get me a brush and ink!"

"Usu."

"Practice on something else, I don't want your scribbling!" Tezuka snaps, hurriedly hauling himself out of the pool.

"Sanada could give you a few pointers, I bet," Yukimura tells Atobe. "He was always so helpful when we took calligraphy together."

"Let me practice my German writing on you!" Atobe calls, ignoring Yukimura in favor of grabbing Tezuka by the shorts, yanking him back into the pool. "It will be as glorious as everything else I do!"

"You were a terrible student," Sanada mutters. "You still are. You can learn more than one character, you know."

Yukimura tilts his head, contemplative. "Unnecessary. You can be the one that is good at calligraphy."

Tezuka doesn't shriek, but he certainly comes close as he topples back into the water with a flailing splash. "Your German isn't any better!"

"My German is flawless!" Atobe doesn't take the opportunity to yank down Tezuka's shorts.

Well, yes, he does.

That's definitely something between a squawk and a shriek as Tezuka writhes and kicks to free himself and yank his shorts back up before they can get much lower than his knees. "Why can't you be the one that drowns?" It's surprisingly satisfying to dunk Atobe this time.

Yukimura uses the empty drink tray as a shield against the splashing. Well, that's more life than he's ever seen Tezuka exhibit. Good for him. "Sa-na-da, you should help me put on some sunscreen so I don't start cooking out here."

Sanada nods shortly, grabbing a tube of sunscreen from one of the passing servants, squirting a liberal amount onto his hands before starting to rub them all over Yukimura's back, shoulders, and chest. At least this is socially acceptable, not like any other way of being close to Yukimura in public. "It wouldn't be bad if you were a little darker. Men shouldn't worry about such things."

"Don't listen to him, Seiichi," Atobe calls, shaking the water out of his hair with a laugh. "Real men can be exquisitely vain when they're as lovely as my gorgeous self. You'll do."

"The great Atobe Keigo-sama has given me his approval, Sanada. I should be honored," Yukimura says, keeping an entirely straight face when when he slumps over underneath Sanada's hands.

"You turn as dark as an Okinawan when you sit on an Italian beach for a week," Tezuka flatly reminds Atobe.

"I should never let you two in the same room," Sanada curses under his breath. "No good ever comes of it."

"Only when I don't have you to hold my umbrella properly!" Atobe protests, swimming up to clamber onto Tezuka's back. "This is why you should come on European vacations with me more often. Last time I tanned, I couldn't even see my lovely mole."

Tezuka grunts tiredly, but hefts Atobe up onto his back all the same. "Why do you need to see it? You know where it is, you were born with it."

"Just wait until we get to play Hyotei in the Nationals-maybe this time, we can go out to eat together afterwards," Yukimura suggests to Sanada with a bat of his eyes.

"I doubt it," Sanada says, unsmiling. "I don't get hungry after victory."

"It's not for me to see," Atobe says, happily draping himself onto Tezuka's shoulders. "It's for the good of mankind. Whole societies would collapse upon its disappearance. Oi, Yukimura, Sanada, I'll call everything even if you have a chicken fight with us right now."

"Deal." Yukimura grabs Sanada's arm to throw him bodily into the water again.

Tezuka shuts his eyes against the splash, scowling when Yukimura follows suit and ugh, but glasses are not meant for pools. "Champagne was better than this," he moodily declares.

A bit of competitive spirit fires through Sanada, and he hoists Yukimura up onto his shoulders, eyes narrowing. "Come on, then," he growls, getting to a point shallow enough to stand. "And come at us with everything you have!"

Atobe blinks. "You be on top, Kunimitsu."

"Ahh, and here I thought you'd want to challenge me directly, Atobe," Yukimura snidely prods, draping himself over Sanada's head.

"It's probably for the best that I don't entrust a challenge like this to you," Tezuka mutters, untangling himself from Atobe. "You let your guard down far too often."

"Our glorious contest is yet to come," Atobe says cheerfully, hoisting Tezuka up onto his shoulders. "A wise captain knows when to be a supporting player, responsible for a striking victory from below."

"Don't slack off," Sanada growls, and with a squeeze to Yukimura's knee to make sure he's ready, launches forward.

Yukimura is merciless, and probably a little too experienced in the game, besides. "We're the reigning champions," he cheerfully explains the first time he wrestles Tezuka flat onto his back in the water in about fifteen seconds, with Atobe toppling backwards after him with a foot to the forehead. "Back when Rikkaidai would go on training trips to Chiba, I mean. Kirihara used to throw a fit and go into Devil Mode, but that never helped much…"

"A wise captain knows when to surrender, too, I think," Tezuka growls into Atobe's ear.

"Nonsense," Atobe says, bobbing up determinedly. "A wise captain just needs to know when to change strategies!"

It's probably not in the official rules of chicken to grab Tezuka and throw him like a missile. Probably.

Yukimura doesn't screech, courtesy of water muffling the sound when he hits the water with a rather impressive splash. "That's illegal!" he hisses, wheezing as he bobs up for air and kicks Tezuka away from him. "If you want to be a proper champion, play by the rules!"

"True champions can't afford to lose even a single game!" Atobe calls, retrieving his missile and installing him once more in his proper position. "Time to gaze on my glory and despair!"

Sanada narrows his eyes, then hoists Yukimura up higher, raising him up on his arms. "We have the height advantage!"

"Time to crush them," Yukimura eagerly agrees.

"Is there some kind of point system to this? Like tennis?" Tezuka rather worriedly attempts before Yukimura tackles him far before his launch time and well, there go his glasses again and what little air was left in his lungs.

"You'll be avenged, Kunimitsu!" Atobe yells, launching himself towards the hybrid creature that is YukiSana.

Unfortunately for Atobe, Yukimura maintains their championship title, like in all things. It's for the best.