Hi hi hi I'm back but not really, please read the author's note at the end

Since it's been a while (4 years? yeaaaaaaahhhhhh), I recommend re-reading the last two chapters or something LOL or resign yourselves to be VERY confused at what's happening, unless you all have super sharp memory. I don't. I don't even know what I'm writing anymore. Nothing is consistent LOL WHOOPS. ALSO it took me years to write this so— yeah.

(You may notice a reference of a well known OC by another author in this chappie. More about that in the A/N at the bottom.)

Also long chapter is very very very long. I started rambling and couldn't stop. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Last I checked, it clocked in at 58 pages.

Is it perfect? No. Is it moderately well-written? Hell no. Have I written and edited so much that I just needed to toss this in front of you so I could keep a grasp on my sanity?

Yes.

And so I present to you this 58-page steaming pile of—

Ok well that's enough self-deprecation for now. It's 5:45am and I need sleep. Enjoy the chappie!

To Catch A Falling Star, Chapter 33: Kaleidoscope

-x-

No.

Sakuno felt something constricting her throat, like someone had closed their fist upon it, crushing her windpipe with their thumb.

This was not how tennis should be.

This was not tennis.

She wanted to cry.

"Stop," she whispered. 'Grandma already told you to stop, what are you doing?'

Sakuno knew that the Kantou tournaments were going to be at a different level. She'd been preparing for that for weeks: adding weight bars to her wrist weights, rallying balls with her Grandma after practice. She knew the competition was going to get harder, harsher. Crueler.

But she didn't expect… this.

Next to her, Chiharu took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay, Sakuno-chan. Taka-san is trying to prove something."

"How's this worth proving?" she responded very quietly. "He's only hurting himself…"

"You should be able to understand." Suzume had a keen eye fixed onto the court. She continued without looking at Sakuno, "You of all people should be able to understand."

Sakuno bit her lip.

On the court, Kawamura was relentlessly hitting Hadokyuu after Hadokyuu. The battle between him and the giant second-year from Hyotei was endless. They could already see the red swelling forming under his wrist, in his arm.

From the sidelines, Oishi gripped the handrail, his hands pale and white-knuckled.

"Hey," Akane said, putting her hand over his. "Calm down. It'll be okay."

"You can't…" He breathed out, the air painful in his lungs. "You can't promise that."

The tiniest wince escaped her, but her eyes were hard. Sturdy. She said evenly, "I'm not promising anything."

Oishi's words were strangled. "Taka-san is destroying his future—"

"And how is worrying about it helping him?" Akane pulled him around to face her, placing her hands firmly on his shoulders. "Look. If it gets that bad, Ryuzaki-sensei will pull him out. Trust her." Her fingers found his hand, and curled around it. "Okay? Just trust her."

He did not look convinced.

"Can you trust me, at least?" She let go of his hand. Her fingers went to touch the lines of his face, as if she could smooth out the creases in his skin like origami paper. "Can you do that for me?"

He hesitated, then exhaled dejectedly. "You're right," he said. "You're right."

She gave him a cheeky smile, bumping her shoulder against his. "I'm always right."

BAM. Kawamura suddenly fired off another Hadokyuu, causing all of them to cringe. Sayaka even clutched her own wrist involuntarily.

Kikumaru whistled. "Taka-san isn't taking this lying down, is he?"

"Taka-san can be very…" Aiko paused, frowning. "What's the word, Kims?"

"Stubborn," Kimiko supplied with a decisive nod. "Very stubborn."

"He won't lose if it's a power battle. He refuses to lose," Momoshiro said with reverence. "Power is Taka-san's thing."

"Thing?" Sakuno repeated, face blank.

"You know, his specialty." Momoshiro explained. "His edge. Kind of how Inui-senpai does calculations or how Fuji-senpai is a tensai—"

"And Echizen's specialty is just being a short-ass wonderboy," Sayaka added, ruffling the hair of the small first-year.

"I'm not that short," Ryoma grumbled, ducking away.

"Yes, you are!" Kimiko insisted, giggling. "You're the shortest out of all of us!"

"I'm not..." he muttered petulantly.

"Aww, Ochibi's being crabby," Kikumaru said affectionately, using his head as an armrest. "You know you're short."

Ryoma made a dissatisfied noise.

Kimiko suddenly narrowed her eyes at him. "Wait a minute…" she said in slow disbelief, hopping over so they were standing face-to-face. "I was sure that I was taller…" Jaw dropping, she reached out to compare their heights with her hand.

An incredulous pause.

"Ehhh? You grew?"

Ryoma smirked. "Mada mada dane, Marui-senpai."

"Wait, does this make me the shortest?" Kimiko burst out indignantly. "That's not fair!"

"And how is that not fair?" Akane asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm his senpai!" Kimiko whined, pointing a finger. "How am I supposed to be taken seriously if I'm shorter than the team runt?!"

Suzume snorted dismissively. "No one takes you seriously to begin with."

"Kimi-chan, don't worry! Ochibi will always be Ochibi!" he declared, locking the shorter boy into a headlock.

"That hurts, Kikumaru-senpai…"

"Stop being rowdy back there!" Coach Ryuzaki yelled without even turning around. "Show some respect, you children!"

They all flinched and turned their attention back to the game.

~x~

Fuuma smiled serenely. "Munehiro-kun's playing well today. You trained him well, Atobe."

Atobe practically preened. "Well, of course. A true captain should always take an interest in fostering talent." At this, he gave Shigohara a pointed glare. "As opposed to conducting unsavory business in the locker room after hours."

Shigohara examined her perfect manicure disinterestedly. "What I do in my personal time is none of your concern, Atobe," she said. "Besides, a good captain raises a team that doesn't need any help."

Atobe bristled.

Oshitari smiled and went back to mindlessly braiding Shigohara's hair.

~x~

After a few more rallies of Hadokyuu vs. Hadokyuu, one of the Seigaku male sub-regulars yawned. "The thing about watching Kawamura play is that it's always such a boring match."

"Power, power, power, power… can't he do anything else?" Another one added. The two boys snickered.

"Bastards…" Kaidoh growled, clenching his fists.

"Let it go, Kaidoh," Tezuka warned sternly.

"But, buchou..." he protested.

"They're not worth it," Oishi interjected with a softer sort of authority. "We just have to support Taka-san. He's giving it his all."

Suzume crossed her arms. "None of those guys would ever be able to play like Taka-san, anyway."

Aiko remained silent, but the light in her eyes changed.

Not long ago, she'd thought the same thing, and had said just as much.

"Taka-san, you really like that Hadokyuu shot, don't you?"

"Yeah." He smiled at her. "It's what I do. I saw another player hit this amazing shot, and I thought 'Wouldn't that be great? To hit a shot that's so powerful, it's unreturnable…'" He lifted an arm. "It's the ace up my sleeve."

"But wouldn't… wouldn't it be nice to vary things? Wouldn't that make you stronger?"

He gave her a mildly baffled look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… If you want… I could teach you how to hit spins," she offered in halting Japanese.

"Aiko-san. I know how to hit spins." His voice was just a little tight. "I've been playing tennis for a long time."

"Oh," she said, thrown. She grimaced in shame. "I didn't mean to imply that you didn't… I mean... I'm sorry. That was rude of me."

"It's all right, Aiko-san." He gave her a reassuring smile. "I get that a lot."

"Um… Taka-san?" she asked timidly. "If you know how to hit spins, then… why don't you?"

He silently tested the tension on his racket strings. "You've noticed it, haven't you?" he finally said. "Everyone on the team has a role."

Aiko blinked, not sure if she understood him properly. "Role?" she repeated.

He nodded. "Tezuka's the captain. Fuji's the genius. Oishi's the doubles specialist." His veins bulged out as he clenched his fist and unclenched it. "I'm the hard-hitter. It's what I do. It's what I won't lose to."

He let his hand fall to his side. "Maybe I'm not a tensai, maybe I don't have amazing ball control, and maybe I can't collect data on my opponents, but…"

"But you can hit a power shot," Aiko finished for him, her eyes alight with understanding. "And no one can take that away from you."

He smiled. "It's my father's business philosophy, too. Focus on one thing, and do it well."

Aiko thought about how he admitted that he wanted to explore different types of cooking methods. She thought about the wasabi rose. "But wouldn't it be nice to change things up?" she asked. "Hit spins and power shots?"

There was a long silence. "It's about what's right for the team," he finally said, and he left the unfinished words hang:

Even if it means they think this is all I can do.

This boy had sacrificed so much, without saying a single word.

"Show them what you're made of, Taka-san," Aiko whispered. "You can do it."

As if hearing her words, Kawamura launched another Hadokyuu, one even more powerful than the last.

But every last one had looked unreturnable, and yet they had been returned. There was no denying that the tall Hyotei second-year had monstrous strength.

"To play at Taka-san's level…" Fuji said appreciatively, eyes open. "That power…"

"Enormous," Tezuka agreed.

Surely he couldn't hold out for that much longer. Surely something had to give.

And suddenly, on a hush-silent court, the tall Hyotei player's racket fell from his grasp and clattered onto the ground. "I… I can't play anymore."

For a second, no one dared to speak.

"He… did it…" Sayaka said, stunned. "Taka-san won…"

Aiko let out a long exhale.

On the court, Kawamura lifted his head in a quiet, understated sort of triumph.

Then, from his trembling hand, his own racket slipped and fell to the ground.

-x-

'Due to both players being unable to continue… Singles Three is declared a no-game!"

"What— seriously?" Sayaka shouted. "All that for nothing?!"

"Sayaka," Momoshiro reprimanded her sharply, digging his elbow into her side. "Have some respect."

"She's got a point," Suzume defended. "If you're going to get that reckless, at least have something to show for it."

"Oh, like you're one to talk, Kimura," Momoshiro shot back, and she shrugged indifferently.

The brown-haired power player shuffled over from the court, looking shamefaced. "I'm… sorry, everyone."

"Don't mind it, Taka-san!" Kikumaru said, giving him two thumbs up.

"It was a great match." Aiko flashed him a smile. She added in a quieter tone, "I think I get what you mean, now." The two of them exchanged a warm glance.

Ryuzaki-sensei got up from the coach's bench, dusting herself off. "I was hoping we'd keep the hospital visits to a minimum today, but I guess it can't be helped with you lot." She gave Kawamura a light whack on the back of his head. "Reckless fools, all of you."

"S-sorry…" Kawamura mumbled again, rubbing the back of his head.

"I can take Kabaji-kun with me," Ryuzaki-sensei called, taking a few steps towards the opposite coach's bench.

"Go, Kabaji." Upon receiving his coach's order, the large second-year headed over to their side, accompanied by the girl's second-seed, Fuuma Eri.

Coach Sakaki stood and gave Ryuzaki-sensei a formal bow. "I'm sorry for troubling you."

"No trouble at all," she promised, smiling at Kabaji. She turned her head to the blonde Hyotei girl. "Fuuma-chan, you don't have to come with us. I'll take good care of both of them. You could be missing an exciting match."

"True." The Hyotei girl chewed her lip, clearly weighing her options. "Jirou always plays an exciting game when he's riled, and Atobe never fails to deliver." She glanced back at the court, where Atobe was currently conducting the cheers of "The winner will be Hyotei! The winner will be Hyotei!" She rolled her eyes, and added in a low mutter, "I'm not particularly looking forward to watching him strut his pompous ass all over the court, though."

Ryoma snorted into his hand.

Fuuma turned to Kabaji, peering upwards at him. "Will you be okay?"

He nodded once. "Usu."

Her blue eyes never left his. "So you think I should stay here?"

"Usu."

Fuuma dipped her head. "Well, I guess I'll leave him to you, then. Thank you, I appreciate it."

"Of course. I'll call Coach Sakaki if there are any issues. We'll be back soon!" Coach Ryuzaki headed out, Kawamura and Kabaji on either side of her.

After the three vanished from her view, Fuuma relaxed. "I guess I'll head back to my side." She gave them a cordial wave. "Good luck."

Tezuka frowned slightly. Her words were perfectly sincere, without a hint of mockery, but what was mildly unsettling was that she directed those words to straight to him.

-x-

"Well… I suppose it's my turn," Fuji said, stretching a little as he got up from his seat.

"Go, Fuji-senpai!" Momoshiro cheered loudly. "Avenge Taka-san!"

He merely smiled. "The wind is nice today," he murmured cryptically, closing his eyes and breathing in the air.

He won in fifteen minutes.

-x-

"Fuji Fuji Fuji!" Kikumaru jumped on him as soon as he stepped off the court. "That was amazing! Your Hakugei had even more spin than before!"

He chuckled. "Thank you, Eiji."

"Took that one down mighty quick," Akane said with raised eyebrows.

Fuji's smile was decidedly vague. "Well, I wanted to change the momentum," he said. "I'll leave it up to Tezuka to close it out." He tilted his head towards the captain, who was checking the tension on his racket.

Akane's smile slowly slipped from her face.

Did Fuji know something? Did he suspect, as Oishi had, that Tezuka was not at peak condition?

She couldn't help but wonder if that's why he'd crushed the Hyotei 3rd year so resolutely. To psychologically give Tezuka the best advantage possible.

"Penny for your thoughts, Akane-san," Fuji interjected kindly, and her eyes refocused on him.

"They're worth much more than that, Fuji." She forced a grin, trying to dispel all feelings of doubt. "You should know that by now."

-x-

"This is not going to be an easy match…" Izumi said very quietly, when Tezuka finally stepped onto the court.

Some of the regulars gave her strange looks. "What makes you say that?"

Izumi just tilted her head ambiguously.

"She's right," Fuji said, his eyes on the other half of the court. "You can tell by the way Atobe looks."

They all swiveled their heads. Atobe had stepped to the baseline, his shoulders back and his eyes narrowed.

"Like a tiger," Sakuno said quietly. "Like a tiger stalking its prey."

"Tiger, huh?" Ryoma murmured, feeling his lips quirk upwards. "I always thought of Monkey King as a peacock." He exchanged a teasing glance with Sakuno.

"Not a monkey?" Akane asked, brow raised.

"Peacock?" Momoshiro said at the same time. He snorted. "Not exactly the most threatening of creatures…"

"Hey! Peacocks are really scary!" Kimiko protested. "One time I thought it might be fun to chase a peacock around at one of those zoo aviaries."

"And?" Suzume prompted. "What happened?"

Kimiko gave them a sheepish grin, wincing at the memory. "The peacock ended up chasing me."

-x-

Atobe Keigo and Tezuka Kunimistu were both shockingly dissimilar and alike in the same way.

Atobe was a ringleader on the courts, hitting stunning forehand winners that caused the crowd to gasp and applaud. He strutted, sauntered, and positively basked in the adoration of those around him. Even if you were to strip away the exaggerated movements and flashy shots, his offensive technique was absolutely divine, ruthlessly so.

And sometimes that's what it was. Ruthless, divine, aggression.

Tezuka's tennis was technical, down to every swing. Every movement was practically textbook. It was beautiful in it's simplicity. He navigated the court like a ship crashing through the waves - with purpose, with drive, and with absolutely no hesitation.

And yet under it all, were two souls yearning and yearning and yearning for victory. That ambition, when ignited, burned white-hot like a supernova.

It was like titans clashing in an epic battle.

Both Hyotei and Seigaku tennis clubs watched, mesmerized, and all of them could hardly breathe. A singular thought ran through all their minds:

I want to play a match like this.

-x-

"Tezuka is quite fired up today," Fuji mentioned, watching him score another winner.

"He's playing amazingly," Oishi said. There was a note of relief in his voice that only a few would notice.

Oishi was right. Tezuka's control over the spin was truly something to be admired. No matter where Atobe hit it, the ball would always curve away from the corner and within perfect striking distance. The Tezuka Zone.

"Dude, I'd love having a zone named after me," Sayaka said with a grin. "Just sayin'."

"You don't have a move that even remotely resembles a zone," Momoshiro said just as Suzume scoffed, "Not sure you're cool enough to pull that off, Namazu-chan."

"I hate both of you," she grumbled.

Kaidoh curled and uncurled his hand into a fist. "That Atobe is fighting back, though…" he said, and all of them looked over.

Atobe looked frustrated at being trapped in the Tezuka Zone, but his eyes shone with determination - an unspoken promise that he was going to push through. He was going to break it somehow. His returns got harder, sharper, pushing Tezuka back. A forced error into the net tied the game count at an even 2-2.

He set a punishing pace for the next game, hitting winners so stunning that they elicited gasps from the onlookers. He sealed of the final point with an improved Tannhauser serve, pulling ahead at 3-2.

Not to be outdone, Tezuka pulled out his Zero Shiki serve in the next game to tie it again at 3-3.

Perhaps in middle school, they would've been more dramatic, more theatrical with their moves, always trying to one-up the other. Now that they were high schoolers, they used their signature techniques much more strategically - but the underlying competitiveness was still there, still burning.

Just like then, they were both striving to be their best selves, and were doing so gloriously.

Chiharu felt adrenaline rush through her veins, from simply being a spectator.

She glanced at Hyotei tennis spectators, wondering if they also felt this way about watching their captain play at this level. She inadvertently found herself catching Shigohara's eye. For a moment, she didn't know how to react.

Then, she smiled shyly. Gave her a little nod.

'This intensity… it's a bit like our match was, isn't it?'

Shigohara smiled back, a superior shrug rolling off her shoulders.

'Ours was better.'

A giggle bubbled in her throat.

"What are you laughing at, senpai?" Kimiko asked.

"Oh, nothing…" she responded. She turned back towards the Hyotei team.

The tall, tan-skinned boy had leaned over to whisper something in Shigohara's ear. Chiharu watched in wistful amazement as he took her hand, and in an exaggerated princely manner, dropped a chaste kiss on her knuckles.

Some of the other Hyotei members made faces and gagged, but Shigohara seemed amused.

Must be nice, Chiharu thought, letting out an audible sigh.

Her traitorous imagination suddenly conjured an image of a certain bespectacled person doing that to her. The vision was as clear as a panel from a shojo manga. She flushed a maraschino-cherry-red at the mere thought of it.

No. No. No- this was not the time to be thinking about such things, she told herself with a frown, shaking her head. Though there was no denying that Tezuka was very attractive when he played like this…

'NO,' she admonished herself again, and probably would've slapped herself if she hadn't been surrounded by so many people.

"Everything all right, Oshiro-san?" Inui asked, more out of curiosity than concern. "You seem to have gone through five different emotions in less than a minute, which is quite above average."

"I-I'm fine!" she squeaked, fanning her cheeks.

"And here I thought I got excited watching Tezuka play…" Fuji teased.

"What- I- No!" She got even more flustered. "That's not what this is—"

"Make that six emotions…" Inui muttered, writing down a note.

"I'm kidding, Oshiro-chan," Fuji said.

She hid her blushing face behind her hands.

-x-

And then suddenly, in a moment, it all went terribly, terribly wrong.

Chiharu was the first to react - before the yell of pain had even left his throat. Maybe it was because of her understanding of muscle and tissue, maybe it was because she was acutely aware of things, but maybe it was actually because she always paid extra, extra attention to him—

Either way, she knew before anyone else. Before his knees hit the concrete. Before he even clutched his arm.

She bolted over the banister, nearly catching her toes on the edge and losing her balance. From beside her, she could see other members of the team running, their long legs overtaking hers.

She didn't care. She had to reach him.

Her lungs felt like they were going to burst, and she couldn't feel her legs and -

She had to reach him—

"Don't come any closer!"

All of them stopped in shock.

"Get back," he all but snarled. "All of you."

No one dared to speak. No one dared to breathe.

He rose to his feet slowly, triumphantly. "This is the middle of a match."

His unsaid words echoed across the court:

I'm not finished yet.

Wordlessly, all of them retreated backwards, like they were backing away from an imploding star, away from something both brilliant and terrifying.

Tezuka picked up his racket like a warrior lifting his sword, and pointed it straight at Atobe's chest. "Don't go easy on me, Atobe," he declared. "Let's finish this."

-x-

"Holy..." Gakuto breathed.

"Shit," Shishido finished for him, looking equally dazed. "Holy shit."

Narita Ayumi smiled. "Well," she purred, lacing her fingers together under her chin. "This just got interesting." A sharp look from Shigohara made her scowl. "What? I'm just sayin'."

Shigohara sighed. "What do you think, Yuushi?" Her eyes, narrowed and catlike, were trained on the two players. "Will Atobe do it? Go in for the kill?"

Oshitari considered it, adjusting his spectacles. "Well, I can't say for sure… Keigo's certainly capable. But doing that could cripple Tezuka for good…" He let the words hang.

He could end his career. Make it impossible for him to pick up another racket.

"You would do it, wouldn't you, Shigohara?" Shishido said, with a sidelong glance. His tone was not accusatory, he was merely stating a fact.

Matoko Rie laughed. "Shigohara-buchou wouldn't even hestitate."

She would've. Had that short Seigaku girl given her an opportunity, Shigohara would've exploited her weakness, bled her dry, and crushed her to dust under the heel of her foot.

But, Shigohara wondered, did that really make her stronger than Atobe? Better than him?

Sure, Atobe could aim for Tezuka's shoulder. He could twist it with a few well placed smashes, and force Tezuka to over-exert himself in an endurance battle. But sometimes avoiding the obvious path to victory was far more challenging and noble.

And Atobe did like to pride himself on his nobility.

-x-

"Oishi, did you know?" Kikumaru asked, wide-eyed, as the game continued. "About Tezuka's arm…"

"I… I thought the old injury might be flaring up," Oishi admitted. On the court, Tezuka took another big swing, and Oishi winced. "But he never told me anything about it."

"The way he played that first half of the match... you never would've known he was hiding an injury," Momoshiro said, breathless in awe.

"He's very private about these things," Izumi said softly. She lowered her gaze, her bangs obscuring her eyes, and the next few words were even quieter: "He has every right to be."

"I wish…" Oishi started to say, and then shook his head. It doesn't matter now.

"I knew," Aiko said dully, and all of them whirled around to face her, surprised. "I saw him at the hospital. I just never thought it was this bad."

"I haven't told anyone on the team. I don't want to burden them."

"Tezuka-buchou… they would want to know…"

Suzume pressed her lips together. "He just gave Atobe a very dangerous opportunity." If she were playing on the court, she would take full advantage of Tezuka's weakened left side. And she didn't even have half the techniques that Atobe had regarding blind spots and dead angles.

As far as she was concerned, Tezuka was a dead man walking.

"Any intrinsic cogitations, Akane?" Reina asked.

Akane cupped her chin with her hand. "There's a lot of psychological pressure on Atobe-kun, that's for sure. On one hand, he could take home a much-needed win for Hyotei. On the other…" She paused, the smallest tremor in her voice. "He could destroy Tezuka. I don't think he's ready to do that."

The light on Inui's glasses flashed. "Is it worth ending the career of a great opponent for the sake of your school?"

Everyone knew that the two captains had a lot of respect for one another. As different as the two were in terms of leadership style and technique, they were undeniably cut from the same cloth.

"He will push him," Akane concluded. "He will push him to the very end. And he will also give him every opportunity to surrender."

"But buchou won't surrender," Ryoma said resolutely. "He would never."

"Exactly," Akane said quietly, and her voice had an unbearable, awful weight to it. "Exactly."

-x-

'Count to ten. Count to ten, Chiharu.'

'Calm down.'

'Assess the situation.'

Her father's words rang in her ear as she breathed evenly, trying to get her heart rate under control. It'd been a calming strategy she learned to apply to anything, from taking an exam, to stepping onto the court for a match.

That calming trick had once saved her father's life in Iraq, where he was sent by a country he didn't belong to, to fight in a war he didn't believe in.

This was not Iraq, far from it, but it was a war all the same.

It'd been like a lightning strike. Tezuka had gone rigid in an instant and fallen to his knees. A wounded soldier in battle.

And she'd acted instinctively, irrationally, emotionally, bolting to her feet to his side. When it came to him, ten seconds — no, two seconds would've been far too long. She needed to help.

(But she was useless anyways, wasn't she, always so useless, useless useless—)

And now he was on his feet, playing so well, trying so damn hard to make it look like he was absolutely fine.

Chiharu bit her lip. She could feel his pain in every shot. She could feel his muscles breaking, wearing down, the ache in his tissues and bones like it was her own arm. Her senses were in overdrive, and it had nothing to do with her synesthesia.

Stop, she thought as the match went into a tiebreaker. Stop.

Reina could've told her exactly how long the tiebreaker had gone on for. Even now, she was bouncing a ball at perfectly-measured, 1-second intervals, her mouth in a grim line.

Chiharu counted in terrified heartbeats.

Stop, she thought again, two hundred heartbeats later, as Atobe's stunning Hametsu no Rondo technique reared its head. Stop. Please.

And yet she knew he wouldn't. It was like the previous match with Taka-san, Tezuka also had something to prove.

He wouldn't be Tezuka Kunimistu if he stopped now.

But with every shot, his arm was hurting, and her heart was breaking.

-x-

And just like that...

"Game and Match, Hyotei's Atobe! 7-6."

...it ended.

-x-

Atobe shook his hand at the net, and then lifted both their hands to the sky. The crowd's cheers were absolutely deafening.

"That was an epic match," Tezuka said, breathing hard.

"Yeah. They always are with you." Atobe smirked, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. "For how stoic you are, you sure know how to entertain a crowd."

A corner of Tezuka's mouth tugged upwards. "Speak for yourself. You always know how to give the people what they want."

Atobe laughed and slung an arm over his shoulders as they walked off the court. His next words were for Tezuka's ears only, unseen and unheard by the rest of the crowd. "I'm sorry it ended like this. Tezuka," he murmured meaningfully. "If you need anything..."

"Aa," he responded. "I appreciate it, Atobe."

"Take care. I look forward to challenging you when you're back at your best," Atobe said as they went to separate sides of the court.

Tezuka walked back to his team's side of the court. "Sorry, everyone," he said, his gaze soft.

"Don't be, buchou." Momoshiro flashed him a thumbs up. "It was an excellent match."

"Mou, you had us worried out of our minds, Tezuka," Kikumaru complained. His laugh, however, was one of relief.

Oishi and Fuji said nothing, but the looks of concern they gave him spoke volumes. Kaidoh just stared at him, his gaze respectful but watchful at the same time.

"If… if it had been any other opponent, you would have emerged victorious," Reina offered. "One hundred percent."

Most of the girls also gave him some words of encouragement and looks of approval. Except Chiharu. In fact, the amber-eyed girl seemed to be refusing to look at him, her eyes deliberately fixed on a point on the ground. Tezuka frowned in slight confusion.

Ryuzaki-sensei, who'd made in back in time for the tiebreaker, just gave him some exasperated head-shakes. "What am I, a shuttle-service for the hospital?" She swatted Tezuka on the side of his head. "You really overdid it this time, Tezuka."

"I apologize." He lowered his head.

"Still. You played well." She smiled, skin crinkling around her eyes like tissue paper. "I would expect no less from you, captain."

"So what's going to happen now?" Horio asked. "With two wins and two losses and one no-game… Who wins, Seigaku or Hyotei?"

Inui adjusted his glasses contemplatively. "They'll most likely have the reserves play in a sixth match to decide which team wins."

"Works out for us. Gives Echizen a chance to cut his teeth on the next opponent," Suzume said, jerking her head towards Ryoma.

The short freshman, who had already taken off his jersey, was practically vibrating with energy. His golden eyes were aglow with excitement. He tapped his feet against the ground, obviously impatient for the match to begin.

"Echizen," Tezuka warned. "Don't—"

"Let my guard down?" Ryoma interrupted. He smirked, and said cheekily, "Maybe it's time you take your own advice, buchou."

Several jaws dropped, and Oishi even started to admonish him, "Echize—"

But to their surprise, Tezuka's lips twitched into an almost-smile. "True," he responded.

Coach Ryuzaki gave him a big grin and a pat on the back. "All right Ryoma, get out there and show us how it's done."

-x-

Matsuyama Sakiko didn't expect to witness such a dramatic match in her first week as a starter on the Rikkai team.

Though, calling herself a "starter" was being optimistic. She barely cinched the reserve slot last week. And while her name was on the official roster, it wasn't like she was accepted by the other team members yet.

(Part of her wished that fitting into a new school was as easy and clear-cut as having your name among theirs in a lineup.)

The Rikkai girls weren't playing until the afternoon, and the boys had already finished their match, so all of them had gathered to watch the Atobe-Tezuka match. When the match reached the climactic finale, there was a collective hush over their entire team.

Yoshima, the girl who usually played Singles 2, let out a whistle. "Damn. That was a good match."

"I told you Atobe would win," Sugimoto Midori, a short girl with green streaks in her hair, said, wiggling her fingers at Kirihara. "Pay up."

"You bet against Sugimoto again?!" Hayashi Yuzuru, her vice-captain, exclaimed. "Jesus Akaya, when will you learn?"

"I thought Tezuka had it," Kirihara grumbled as he forked over some yen bills. "Stupid Atobe." The gleam in his eyes, however, suggested that he was quite excited with what he witnessed in the match.

"Tezuka did seem very calm and confident throughout the match," Yagyuu conceded.

"Of course he did," Hayashi said with a dismissive wave. "Tezuka has like, a total of three facial expressions."

Sakiko secretly thought that their captain, Fukuda Hanae, had even fewer.

"Remember when Sanada played him at Nationals three years ago?" Marui said with a laugh. "I think he got an eyebrow twitch outta him then."

"Hey, that's still more of a reaction than that girl at Nationals got out of Fukuda-buchou," Yoshima laughed. "You should be proud, Sanada."

Yanagi glanced over at the girl's team captain. "Hanae, who was it you played last year? Shiraishi Yukari, wasn't it?"

"She wasn't bad," Fukuda said, her face betraying nothing. "Good enough to warrant a blink or two."

Broad smiles were exchanged among the girls. Sakiko was quickly learning that even though Fukuda was a woman of few words, she did possess a dry sense of humor. And was remarkably self-aware.

"Still," the dark-haired captain continued, her eyes trained on the athletes that were leaving the court. "I wouldn't have expected a match of this caliber to be played in the first round of the Kanto tournament."

"It does bring back memories of Nationals three years ago," Tsukino Anna said, her thumb resting against her curved lips. "Doesn't it?"

"Did you guys also watch the boy's Nationals match?" Sakiko interjected.

The four girls - Hayashi, Fukuda, Tsukino and Yoshima - looked at each other, as if silently arguing who should be forced to respond. Finally, it was Hayashi who spoke: "You bet we did," she said, flashing a smile that was neither friendly nor unfriendly. "It was a great match."

Before Sakiko could say anything else, the four of them were engrossed in another discussion, and offered her no invitation to join. She stood there silently, a little indignant and a little mortified.

"It gets easier," the redheaded girl, Watanabe Miyuki, said quietly from beside her.

"What?" she said back, eyebrows raised.

"Being part of the team."

Sakiko gave her a strange look. She'd heard that Watanabe was also a 3rd year transfer. So far, she had been the only one that had been welcoming to her. The other girls were cordial enough, but kept their distance. It was clear that she was new. That she was other.

"I feel like they hate me," Sakiko muttered, staring at the four girls that had now their backs to the rest of them.

Watanabe smiled. She had a large gap between her two front teeth. Sakiko found this to be childishly endearing. "They hate the idea of you. And me."

"Why?"

At this, the red-haired girl turned to Yanagi with a radiant smile. "Care to do the honors, Renji?"

The tall, soft-spoken boy cupped his chin, in a way that suggested he was keen to observe her reaction to what he had to say. "You have to remember that Hanae had her team finalized a long time before you two showed up." "She, Yuzuru, Anna… almost all of them… They all played together in middle school."

"You threw a wrench into her perfect lineup," added Niou, who'd been listening.

"Yuki-chan here actually booted one of their second-years out of the regulars. Hayashi was pissed," Marui said, slinging an arm around Watanabe's shoulders. "Raise your hand if you ruined Hayashi's legacy—" He lifted Watanabe's hand, who blushed slightly. "—This girl did."

Come to think about it, Sakiko realized, she'd also gone up against a second year named Kurosawa for the reserve spot, and won. "Wait, there's still Hashimoto," she said after a moment, citing the only second-year left on the Rikkaidai starter list.

Watanabe and Yanagi exchanged a speaking look. It was the data master who spoke: "Yes, that is true… but everyone is aware that you could take her spot." He tilted his head, and even though his eyes were closed, she felt like he could see right through her. "If you really tried."

At this, Sakiko felt a hot flash of anger. "I've been trying," she ground out. It was just that Rikkai's tennis training was easily ten times more brutal than Fudomine's, and by the time practice matches came around, her arms and legs were so sore she could barely function as a human, let alone win a match.

She'd played second-year Hashimoto Kotori twice, and lost both times.

Sakiko swore after Oshiro from Seigaku, after Shigohara from Hyotei, that she was done losing. She didn't come to Rikkai to continue a losing streak.

"Oh look, you've angered it." Niou lazily picked off a piece of imaginary lint off her shoulder, and she resisted the urge to clock him six ways past Sunday.

"Be nice, Niou-kun," came the soothing voice of Tsukino Anna, who played Doubles One. The pink-haired girl came up behind them and used Sakiko's shoulder as an armrest, uninvited. "We want to make our new regulars feel welcome, ne?"

Niou didn't stiffen, per say, but his body language became harder. More threatening.

Sakiko wasn't sure what the relationship between Niou and Tsukino was. All she knew was that the animosity in the air was suddenly palpable. She considered asking the taller girl to remove her arm from her shoulder, but… she wanted to be accepted by the group, not make enemies.

It didn't help that Tsukino Anna was the one that Sakiko was the most apprehensive about. It was something about her eyes. They were an innocent sky-blue shade, but her pupils were oddly narrow, almost reptilian.

"By the way, Yuki-chan. I saw some Seigaku girls headed our way, if you wanted to make yourself scarce." Tsukino's eyes flitted towards the busy walkway meaningfully.

Watanabe suddenly retreated away from the fence. "Excuse me." She tried to keep her tone nonchalant, and failed. Before Sakiko could blink, she had disappeared.

"I… wha?" Sakiko blurted out. "What the heck was that? What's wrong with Seigaku?"

The pink-haired girl examined one of her very pointy nails, and said casually, "Yuki-chan just has some demons she's trying to avoid."

"Don't we all," Niou murmured darkly, with a bitter smile and pointed glare towards Tsukino.

Tsukino's answering smile was as bright as a dagger.

-x-

It took Echizen Ryoma all of 30 minutes to wrap up his game against second-year Hiyoshi Wakashi, it a match that was far less exciting and interesting than the preceding one. With that win, the Seigaku boy's team advanced to the next round of the Kantou tournament.

There was some free time after the boy's matches ended and before the girl's matches began. Some of the boy regulars accompanied Tezuka to the hospital, while the girls dispersed. Sayaka took the time to wander the tournament grounds for a bit.

There were some girls in cute red uniforms playing a match. They were pretty good, Sayaka noted. She was no data expert, but the one girl with braids had a very nice forehand.

Brown-hair-in-braids-girl. Good forehand. She thought to herself, nodding intelligently. Gets the ball over the net. Has two feet and two arms.

"Fancy seeing you here," a voice drawled into her ear and she nearly screamed.

"What the—" she whirled around, only to come face to face with the smirking countenance of Niou Masaharu. "Okay, not cool, man. You nearly scared me to death."

"Bit unfortunate that your captain Tezuka got injured in that match."

"Wow, straight to the point." She put her hands on her hips, scowling at him. "How about a 'hi, how are you doing? Good luck on your match today.' I'll even take a 'try not to suck too bad when you step on the court this afternoon.'"

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Try not to suck," he said agreeably.

She laughed. "Can you even pretend you aren't trying to pump tennis gossip out of me?"

"I could," he murmured. He leaned back, his stance saying, 'But what would be the point?'

"It's not as if I could tell you anything new, anyways." She sighed, suddenly serious, and stuffed her hands in her pockets. "It's as you saw it. It just… awful."

"Yeah." His voice was uncharacteristically sincere. "It is."

A thought suddenly occurred to her. "Hey your captain is injured too, right? I heard he was at the hospital."

His face immediately closed up, and whatever was left on his expression was pure hostility.

Sayaka felt an instant bolt of fear shoot through her. "Sorry—" she managed. His eyes, like shards of glass, cut straight through her, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. "I didn't mean… we don't have to talk about it." She clasped her sweaty palms together behind her back.

He regarded her silently for an excruciating second. "It's no secret," he finally said evenly, rubbing his jaw.

Secret or not, it was clearly not a topic of discussion. Not with him. "Sorry," she mumbled again, turning her gaze downward.

To her surprise, he reached out and patted her head. "Hey. Don't look so depressed, or you really will suck when you play Onegawa High later." At least the antagonism in his tone seemed to have dissipated, somewhat.

"Yeah, I just— Wait." She stared at him. "How do you know what school I'm playing next?"

He paused for a moment. Then he admitted, "I checked the tournament lineup."

"Wait, were you…Were you planning on coming to watch me play?" Her grin grew large and unapologetic.

He rolled his eyes at her expression. "Our girl's team is going to breeze through their matches in less than an hour," he said, with so much assurance that Sayaka was inclined to believe him, even though she knew almost nothing about the Rikkaidai girls team.

"I figured I'd find something to do with the rest of my time." He patted her head again, leaned in and said, "Try not to keep me bored."

There was a weird giddy feeling spreading in her chest, accompanied with an itch to perform and a resolution to squash her opponent. "My matches are never boring," she insisted boldly.

An amused smirk graced his features. "Of that I have no doubt, Momoshiro-chan."

Sayaka opened her mouth to deliver a cheeky response, but his gaze had already locked on something behind her. She turned and followed his gaze to the stands. A pink-haired girl in Rikkaidai yellow was looking at them. "Who's that?" The girl gave her a smile, and Sayaka returned it, albeit hesitantly.

He just lifted and lowered a shoulder, but the same hostile energy was back.

"Be seeing you, Momoshiro-chan," he said with a wave, before strolling in the direction of the stairs where the girl had disappeared to, without a backwards look.

Sayaka just stood there, trying to process the creeping, uncomfortable feeling she had.

She always knew there was something double-edged about him, something dark and dangerous and so interesting, so enticing in its own way. It was part of what drew her to him, the dichotomy between their two personalities, because he was so very unlike her.

Considering she had about the same amount of edginess as a golden retriever puppy.

At the same time, when he directed that edge towards her, it made her feel so small and helpless, and she didn't like that. She didn't like that at all.

She wondered, was it his home environment that made him like that? Or was it part of… simply being Rikkai? The school was legendary for multiple competitive sports, even more so than Hyotei.

And tennis especially was the pride of Rikkaidai High School.

When you have to live up to that sort of legend, you have two options. Either buckle under pressure, or become a monster.

Kimiko once said that her cousin Bunta, who was nearly as upbeat as she was, was absolutely terrifying when riled.

Even Izumi had mentioned something similar about Rikkai's captain. "It was like he was flipping a light switch," she'd said about his personality, in a moment of rare divulgence. "In an instant, I wasn't sure if I knew him at all."

Sayaka had seen the light-hearted side of Niou, the boy who went around playing pranks and dyeing people's hair bright pink. The boy that could make her grin and laugh with a few well-placed words or stories of mischief.

But the other side of the coin was quiet, dangerous, and threatening. And the way he'd reacted to the girl at the top of the stairs…

'Niou Masaharu,' she thought, with a small shake of her head. 'Who are you?'

And the smaller voice in her head added, 'Do I even want to know?'

-x-

Later that afternoon, the girls played Onegawa High, a school with a far inferior tennis team. They won in three sets, 6-1, 6-1, 6-0.

"Who are you looking for, Namazu-chan?" Suzume asked, watching the tall girl crane her neck as she searched the stands.

"No one," Sayaka muttered unhappily, shrinking back.

The boys team and Coach Ryuzaki had left immediately after the match to check on the team members that were at the hospital, so the girls gathered around Akane for closing remarks.

"Good job, everyone," Akane said, addressing them all with a smile. "We did well today. You should all be proud."

None of them seemed too ecstatic about their victory.

-x-

Three days later…

-x-

"So Tezuka didn't show up for practice today either?" Akane commented quietly as she and Oishi were packing up after practice.

"Yeah… I know I said we should give him some time, but…" He ran a hand through his hair, his forehead creased. "I really can't help worrying."

"Yeah," she agreed softly, and they lapsed into a moment of tense silence.

She put her own hand over the two of his – he was wringing them. "Hey," she said. "It's okay, it's okay."

But for once, she thought he had a right to worry.

-x-

"So we're in agreement then," Coach Ryuzaki said, making a note on her calendar. "We're taking a short break in between practices to boost morale."

Akane and Oishi both nodded. The three of them had gathered in the clubhouse after one practice to devise some new training strategies and potential lineups. The table in front of them was littered with papers with various name combinations scribbled upon them.

"And Akane, you said you had reservations about keeping Komboi in the lineup against Rokkaku?" inquired Coach Ryuzaki.

Akane tapped a pen against the desk. "The long-term effects of her Torpedo shot are still unknown to us. She's been battling some cramps in her leg for the last couple weeks." She tossed her ginger-colored bangs out of her eyes, her gaze stern. "I'd really like to get the doctor's opinion on it before we decide to pull or keep her, especially given the current situation with Tezuka."

"It's a shame," Coach Ryuzaki said. "She was partnering so well with Marui Kimiko…"

"That's the other thing," Akane said, circling a few names on a piece of paper. "We've got three second-years and one first year. I'd love to put Kimiko in a pair with either Suzume or Sayaka at some point."

"Why?" Oishi asked.

"Well, we have to keep our legacy in mind, don't we?" Akane smiled and winked. "Can't leave Ryuzaki-sensei with a bunch of mismatched misfits after we graduate."

Coach Ryuzaki sighed and put a hand on Akane's shoulder. "You're sweet to worry about stuff like that, but you don't need to." When Akane frowned and made to protest, she continued, "I know how you hate when things are outside of your control, but when the time comes, one of them will step up to handle things. Give your second-years a little credit."

Akane pressed her lips together, but nodded once.

"And it looks like we've settled some other potential pairs in the meantime," Coach Ryuzaki said. "I'm excited to test these new combinations out."

Oishi fidgeted a little in his seat. "Ryuzaki-sensei…" he said hesitatingly. "Um… Should we be discussing this without Tezuka-buchou?"

Coach Ryuzaki swept the papers within her hands with finality. "I'll keep him informed."

And that was all she said on the matter.

-x-

At the fourth practice that Tezuka was absent to, Suzume said offhandedly, "Do you think he's going to resign as captain?"

"R-resign?" Sakuno squeaked fearfully.

Akane shot Suzume a narrow look.

"No way…" Sayaka breathed.

"Wouldn't it make sense for him to?" Suzume said with a careless shrug. "He's got a busted shoulder. He should worry about that, not some dumb National Championship."

"Tezuka still wants to go pro, too." Kikumaru folded his arms behind his head. "He really should take care of himself, nya."

Kaidoh grabbed a racket and tossed his tennis bag to the ground with a loud thump. "You sit around and talk," he growled. "I'm going to train."

"What he said!" Kimiko added cheerfully, clapping her hands. "Training time, training time. Let's hop to it, friends." She proceeded to do an exaggerated bunny-hop to her court, causing some members to laugh good-naturedly.

As the members scattered to the various courts, Sakuno turned to Ryoma. "You don't… you don't really like Tezuka-buchou would… leave us, do you?"

Ryoma raised his chin stubbornly. "Buchou will be buchou. He's not going anywhere."

-x-

After the end of practice, they all gathered in front for Ryuzaki-sensei to dismiss them.

"We won't be holding practice for the next two days. Everyone should take this time to practice on your own. You've seen the skill and energy we'll be facing in the Kantou tournament! Make sure you're prepared." She clapped her hands together once. "That's all. Dismissed!"

Sayaka walked over to her brother and slung an arm around his shoulder. "Yo Take-nii, I'm craving burgers. Wanna grab some on the way home?"

"Yeah, let's do it! Wanna come, Echizen?"

"Sure," Ryoma said with a sly grin. "It's Momo-senpai's treat, right?"

"WHAT. I never agreed—"

"If you're gonna treat Echizen, you should treat your sister too!" Sayaka chimed in. The three of them continued to bicker as they left the court.

Akane still had some papers to file away, so she returned to the clubhouse. 'Tezuka did more work than I thought,' she mused to herself as she put roster lineups and tournament forms in corresponding binders as best she could. By the time she emerged outside, the sun had already begun to set, and there was only one person left on the court.

"Chiharu, I'm about to leave," Akane said, racket bag against her shoulder. "You want to start packing up?"

"Do you mind if I lock up?" Chiharu asked, swiping a hand along her forehead. Behind her, tennis balls carpeted the court. "I want to practice my serve a little more…"

"Sure thing." Akane tossed her the keys. "Don't stay too late. You know how your dad worries." The ginger-haired girl gave her a small wave and left.

Chiharu refocused her eyes on the court, trying to imagine the intense atmosphere of a match. She tossed the ball up and struck it.

Thwap.

'Not good enough,' she thought, seeing the ball travel at a slow speed. 'Not yet.'

Thwap.

Thwap.

THWAP.

Finally. That shot was must faster and stronger, and would've probably been an ace. Chiharu formed a fist, smiling a little.

Thwap.

Thwap.

Her second shot went out, and her third one hit the net.

Thwap.

Out.

Thwap.

'Damn it,' she thought, wiping a bead of sweat out of her eye. 'Damn it.' Hitting a powerful shot was good, but in tennis, consistency was more important. An unreturnable serve did no good unless it landed in the court.

Chiharu closed her eyes, remembering her match. Shigohara Minako was a beautifully consistent player, she recalled. Her game had almost no errors.

If the Seigaku team powered through the rest of the Kanto matches like they did in the first round, they could meet Hyotei again in the finals.

She clenched her hand around her racket. She was not ready to face Shigohara again. Not as she was right now. She needed to get better. She needed to be better.

From behind her, she suddenly heard the sound of someone tapping on the wire fence, jostling her from her thoughts.

"Fuji-kun!" She jumped, looking slightly embarrassed. "I didn't know anyone was still here…"

"I was just finishing something in the library…" Fuji said, hoisting some books up in his arms as he stepped through the door. His eyes took in the numerous tennis balls that were strewn across the court. "You're working very hard, Oshiro-san."

She blushed, looking downwards. "Y-yeah," she murmured. "I just want to be prepared… you know, for the upcoming matches. And if we face Hyotei again, especially since…" She bit her lip, remembering the vast skill displayed by the Hyotei's team.

Remembering Shigohara's smash, her slide. Her impeccable game. Remembering Atobe's Hametsu no Rondo shot that brought Tezuka to his knees.

'Game and match, Hyotei!'

She grimaced involuntarily. "Sorry," she said to Fuji.

"Don't worry about it," he murmured kindly, his expression gentle.

Even though she had told herself that she was going to focus on herself, to give him space, she couldn't help it. "Um… Fuji-san? If you don't mind me asking…" She took a breath. "Have… have you spoken to Tezuka-san? Since… you know..."

"Yes, I have," Fuji admitted. He adjusted the books in his arms. "He's taking it easy these few days. He's got a lot on his mind."

"I see…" She picked up a ball by her foot, and examined it in her palm. "I hope he's doing okay."

"Maybe you should text him," Fuji said with a teasing smile. "I'm sure he'd welcome a text from you."

"Oh. Um." Chiharu transferred the ball to her other hand awkwardly, letting her bangs fall over her eyes. Maybe then, her feelings wouldn't be so open and obvious. She rocked back and forth on her feet, shifting her weight. "I don't know that that's true..."

Fuji tilted his head curiously at her response. "Why would you say that?"

A small laugh escaped her lips. "He kept it a secret from everyone, right? I mean… even I… Even I found out by accident."

When she closed her eyes, she could see a distant memory of a girl sitting on the ground next to him, in a room far in the mountains, her hands against his arm. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Knowing that others worry about him… it would just make him feel like a burden. He's our captain. He's our pillar. He isn't supposed to fail."

Pillars were supposed to be stable. They were supposed to support others. They weren't supposed to crumble to dust right in front of your eyes.

"It's Tezuka-san." She dropped the ball, and it landed at her feet in series of soft bounces. "He must be taking the loss very hard. He wouldn't appreciate my concern…"

She took another breath, and met Fuji's gaze, her amber eyes soft and steady and bare with emotion. "Because he's very proud, isn't he?"

Fuji was silent for a long time. Finally, he smiled. "You understand him very well, Oshiro-san."

She smiled back, but it was a sad smile.

-x-

"Look, Oishi, this isn't healthy. I don't want you to worry about it—"

"I have to worry about it. I'm the vice-captain, and—"

"Worrying is not going to help Tezuka get better."

"What do you know about it!" he snapped.

Hurt flashed across Akane's face, and he immediately regretted his words.

"What. You think I'm not concerned?" Akane asked lowly. "You think that I don't care about him?" She took a step forward. "But I accept there is nothing I can do to help the situation."

"How can I do nothing?! How can you just sit there and just—" His voice nearly cracked. He turned away abruptly to pace along the room.

She said, "Oishi."

"Don't."

"Oishi."

When he turned around, he just looked tired. "I'm sorry… I don't want to fight." He sat down, put his face in his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm just really stressed."

After a brief moment, Akane sat down next to him, gently leaning against him so that their shoulders were touching. "I know," she said resignedly. "I know."

-x-

"Did you ever think that our senior year would end up like this?" Kikumaru asked him, his feet dangling off of the shipping container they were sitting on.

It was a sacred place to them; this shipping container. They always had a perfect view of the sun setting over the ocean, light glittering off of the waves. It was almost enough to brighten any day. The Golden Pair knew that they were just a phone call away from each other, and whenever one of them had a bad day, they would meet up here.

"Tell me about it. It's been a mess," Oishi said, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Kikumaru gave a listless kick with one of his legs. "So, about Tezuka…"

"...I don't know. I don't know what he's thinking." He let out a long, exhausting breath. "He might've benched himself for the rest of the season. At worst, he could've caused long-term damage to his career."

"That's awful." Kikumaru picked up a piece of rock and let it drop with a clatter.

"Yeah…" Oishi said quietly, pulling up a knee and resting his head against it.

After a while, Kikumaru turned to him. "You know, it's not your fault."

Oishi shook his head slowly. "I could've stopped him. My uncle was his doctor, and I should've asked him to…" He broke off, clenched his hands into fists. "I could've done something."

Kikumaru fixed him with a pointed look. "When has anyone ever been able to stop Tezuka from doing what he wants?"

Despite everything, Oishi laughed a little. "That's very true."

The red-haired boy folded his arms behind his head and fell back so he was laying down. "You can't blame yourself for everything, Oishi," he murmured, glancing at him from the side.

Oishi reluctantly nodded. "You're right. Thanks, Eiji."

Kikumaru gave his doubles partner a playful nudge. "Hey, at least you have Ito-chan." He raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Things seem to be going super well between you two lovebirds."

Oishi was silent, seemingly lost in thought.

"Oishi?"

"Ahh… yeah. I guess so."

"What's wrong, Oishi?" Before he could answer, Kikumaru moved to sit cross-legged, facing him. "Don't tell me nothing's wrong, I can see it." He pointed at his own eyes, then back at Oishi. "I notice these things."

Oishi's shoulders slumped down in resignation. "I like her a lot. I just wish she would stop telling me that I shouldn't worry." He scuffed a bit of the ground with his shoe. "I know I shouldn't worry. I can't help it."

His words became a rough, frustrated whisper. "It's not a switch I can shut off, and I wish she'd understand that."

Kikumaru gave him a sidelong glance, and was silent for a while. Since they were kids, he'd learned to cope with Oishi's high levels of anxiety. On the court, Kikumaru could help mediate that through encouraging words and supportive play. Off the court, he'd tell jokes and give hugs and just always be there; a comforting hand or a sounding board. After nearly six years of knowing him, he knew exactly what Oishi needed to calm down.

Kikumaru suspected that Ito Akane was still learning.

He cast his gaze toward the sky; the stars were just starting to peak out now that the sun was almost gone. "Well," he murmured. "Have you explained how you feel to her?"

"I don't want to fight or make her upset," he admitted. "I don't… I don't want to ruin anything." He leaned back on his hands, looking dejected.

"If she really cares about you, I think she'll understand."

"...Yeah, maybe."

One step at a time, Kikumaru thought. They were all learning, day by day.

-x-

A/N: I considered splitting the chapter here… but it just seemed incomplete. This is the halfway mark though, so if you made it here, congrats :)

-x-

"I'm glad we're finally able to do this," Fuji said as they walked into the restaurant.

"Me too." Izumi fiddled with her bracelet as she trotted behind him.

They'd rescheduled their lunch date twice. Originally, it was supposed to happen the day after the Kanto opening matches, but he decided to postpone it in light of Tezuka's injury - he wanted to make sure he was there for him.

This week, they had a school day off due to an administrative holiday, and tennis practice was canceled. Fuji took the opportunity to invite her to one of his favorite youshoku (Japanese-Western cuisine) restaurants nearby.

She was quite surprised she'd agreed to the lunch to begin with. As much as she enjoyed spending time with him (to a certain extent. There was a degree of his intensity that still scared her), it was uncharacteristic for her to be so personally involved with anyone other that her family.

And this was clearly a date… wasn't it?

As if sensing her thoughts, Fuji pulled out her chair for her with a certain amount of flair. She could already feel herself blushing.

"Is Tezuka-san doing okay?" she asked, once they sat down. Though the bespectacled captain had returned for class after a two-day absence, he had yet to show up to tennis practice. She'd thought about approaching him, but got a distinct impression that he needed his space.

"Yeah. He's just taking some time to recover." He paused. "In more ways than one." The tilt of his head said, I'm sure you can relate.

I do, said her thin smile.

After they ordered their food, they talked easily for a while. He mentioned how his sister helped him get his first paid gig as a photographer for a wedding, and how he was working on a new project with some art students at Tokyo University. She talked a little about how watching Hyotei's Shigohara play inspired her to sign up for a dance class, so she could refine her technique a little more.

Okay, so maybe this isn't so bad, Izumi thought for a minute, feeling her nervousness evaporate slightly. I can do this.

But then he looked at her.

His eyes were crystalline blue, brilliant and intense, and they took her breath away.

Whatever she was about to say was lost on her lips. She trailed off mid-sentence and felt her cheeks turn rosy pink.

He just smiled. "I make you nervous."

"No!" she protested automatically, then realized her reply was just a little too quick. "Well… yes," she finally admitted, lifting her teacup to her lips. "Maybe a little."

He chuckled. "I think it's cute."

She nearly choked on her tea. "Um, t-thank you…" she managed, the heat now uncomfortably warm in her cheeks.

"There's no need to be nervous," he said, though he seemed pleased by it. "I just want to get to know you better." He leaned slightly forward. "We've been classmates for almost three years now, and I realize I barely know you at all."

Her shoulders lifted in an elegant shrug. "I'm a private person."

"Really," he murmured. "That thought never occurred to me."

She put a hand to her mouth, he suspected, to suppress a giggle. "Honestly," she said. "You do know me better than most people."

"Outside of your more obvious interests, I'm not sure I do. You like tennis and dance…" He counted of his fingers. "And… archery?"

"That's – that's a family thing," she corrected. "It's more obligation than anything."

"You're quite skilled for someone who does it out of obligation," he pointed out. "I remember when you could hit that target from such a long distance."

She twirled her mug around in her hands. "I used to be able to hit the center," she confessed after a moment. "I guess it's really true what they say. You lose a skill if you don't use it."

"When your heart wavers, your shot wavers. And ever since four or five months ago, Morioka-senpai has never been able to hit the center again."

"Did you know? If you don't use certain muscles, they'll eventually wither away," she said, tracing her finger along the rim of the mug. "Just like if you stopped walking for a long, long time… one day, your legs wouldn't even be able to support your weight."

Her eyes got a faraway look, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was thinking of someone else.

"We are what we repeat to do," he said.

Her lips curved into a soft smile in recognition. "Aristotle," she said.

He smiled as well. "It's seems you know Greek literature just as well as Japanese."

"No, not at all. I just enjoy philosophy. Sometimes," she amended quickly. "Other times it can be quite a dull read."

He chuckled in agreement.

"I've been talking too much," she said, once the waiter set the food on the table before them. She'd ordered an omurice dish, and Fuji had ordered a katsu curry.

"How about you, Fuji-kun?" she asked, using the ketchup to draw a squiggle on her eggs. "Besides photography and tennis, what do you like to do?"

He pondered for a second, cutting off a piece of pork with his knife."Well, in the winter I like to going skiing. My parents used to take me and Yuuta to a resort in Shizuoka every winter."

She vaguely remembered his skill on the ski slopes when they had gone to the mountains with the entire team. "Yumiko-san didn't go with you?"

"No, she hates the cold." His huff of exasperation was very affectionate. "As soon as she was old enough to go on trips by herself, she packed a bottle of sunscreen and a beach towel and never looked back."

She rotated her mug of green tea around, and said thoughtfully. "I think I'd prefer the snow."

"You would?"

"I'm not quite as adventurous as you, Fuji-kun. But I just love the feeling of curling up in a blanket with a good book in winter..." she said softly. "And dreaming away the cold."

He was clearly picturing the scene she described, she could tell from the angle of his head and the amusement in his eyes. It made her feel a little lightheaded.

"Well," he thought aloud. "I suppose I would like winter more if it didn't threaten the growth of my cacti so much."

"You really care about them a lot." A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Yumiko-san told me…" she started to say, but caught herself and stopped. "Never mind."

"What? What did my sister say?" He leaned forward curiously. "You can tell me."

Her eyes took on an almost teasing glint. "She… she told me that you sometimes like to talk to your cacti."

He laughed. "I can't believe she told you that, that's quite embarrassing." He rubbed the back of his head, and she was more than a little satisfied that his cheeks were slightly pink

"So, do you name them all individually?" she asked, trying to keep a straight face. "Maybe… Cactus-kun? Prickly-chan?" Her lips were twitching.

He grinned. "I only really talk to one of them," he confessed. "It's a cactus that isn't doing so well, so I try to give it some encouragement now and then. There's scientific evidence that says talking to plants helps them grow, you know."

"Oh, is that why you talk to them." She let an amused lilt enter her voice.

"It's a less embarrassing reason, so yes, let's go with that." A lock of his light brown hair fell into his eyes, and he brushed it away.

His eyes were so very blue, she thought for the hundredth time. So very blue.

To avoid getting caught speechless again, she quickly asked, "Fuji-kun, why do you like cacti so much? There are so many plants in the world, but you only plant cacti."

He was thoughtfully quiet as he took a long sip of of tea. "I think cacti represent the best parts of people," he answered slowly, lowering the mug. "They are tough, but humble. They thrive in environments where no other plant can."

He paused for a moment, and the set of his mouth curved, like he was recalling a fond memory. "And they have a soft center, despite a prickly exterior. Deep down, they just want to be shown a little kindness."

She felt her lips part.

"It makes them quite lovable, don't you think?"

"I… I guess so," she stammered.

Fuji kept smiling, resting his head on his hand. "Has anyone ever told you that you resemble a cactus?" he suddenly asked.

This time she did choke on her tea. Her eyes watered as she coughed for air. "E-excuse me?" she sputtered.

He just chuckled.

-x-

Not having tennis practice at school simply meant that Ryoma would have to find a new place to practice tennis. He didn't understand why Ryuzaki-sensei cancelled it for "morale purposes." If someone beat in you in tennis, you just played more tennis till you got better than them, and then you pounded them into the ground. Preferably, with a triumphant "mada mada dane" at the end.

A local gym near his house had ball-machines set up on the courts during the weekdays. The courts were indoors, and divided in half lengthwise by a curtain of netting. It was almost like a batting cage, except for tennis.

He checked in at the front desk and heading off to a free section, pulling out his racket. The machine started shooting tennis balls at a high speed, and he struck them back, one by one. It felt good to be in control.

He was just in the process of working up a good sweat when suddenly, the ball machine whirred loudly and shut off.

"Seriously?" he muttered. Annoyed, he walked over and flicked the switch a couple times. Nothing.

The gym had become strangely quiet. The people around him were also looking around in confusion. As it turned out, all the ball machines had stopped.

A staff member's voice came over the intercom: "We are experiencing some electrical failure. We'll have to close down for today. Please make your way to the exit in an orderly fashion. We apologize for the inconvenience."

There were some collective groans as the tennis players packed up their gear, and headed for the exit.

Once they were out of the court area, he saw a bunch of people leaving other sections of the gym. The power had gone out everywhere. Someone's elbow nearly bumped him in the face as they shuffled through the narrow hallway and back outside. It was still rather bright outside, and he raised his arm to his face to block the sun. Figures. The whole reason he wanted to practice indoors was to avoid the sun interfering with his sight.

His eyes caught an auburn-haired girl walking in front, long braids swinging as she walked, and it made him smile involuntarily. Whenever he saw someone with hair like that, it reminded of Ryuzaki—

Wait a minute.

That was Ryuzaki.

Ryoma caught up to the girl in long strides. He could've called out her name, but decided against it, and instead bumped the end of his racket against her legs. "Yo."

She missed a step and nearly tripped over, but caught herself. She whirled in surprise. "Ryoma-kun!" Her tone was half-frustration, half-amusement.

"You got kicked out too?" he asked, eyeing the tennis racket clutched to her chest.

"Ah… yeah," she said. "But I got an hour or so of volley practice in, so it wasn't a complete waste."

They stopped by a vending machine outside the gym, where he bought two cans of - what else - Ponta, and offered her one. It made a satisfying fizz noise as he popped the tab. "Where is Kimura-senpai, then?"

"What?" She gave him a confused look. "Not here..."

"I thought you practiced with her."

She pouted at him, her hands on her hips. "I do practice on my own sometimes, you know."

He paused, the Ponta can raised to his lips. It had actually never occurred to him that she practiced by herself.

Clearly reading his thoughts, Sakuno leveled her best scowl towards him. "I don't always need you guys."

"Hn," he said. Then he smirked. "But you like having us, right?"

To his surprise, her entire face went red. "That… I guess that's true," she mumbled, taking a sip from her Ponta.

He frowned. Did he say something to upset her? "Ne," he said, prodding her with his racket again, hoping it would toggle her out of her mood. "What are you up to right now?"

"Hmm?" She glanced at her watch. "Oh, I was going to stop by the sports store for some grip tape before I go home. I'm running low."

"Let's go." He turned on his heel and started walking.

Sakuno blinked, and then trotted to catch up. "Did you need something too, Ryoma-kun?"

"Not really."

"Oh… okay."

It was just a short walk to Mitsumaru Sports, a shop that both of them frequented for their tennis needs.

'Not this one,' Sakuno thought, perusing the aisle of grip tape and looking for her favorite. 'Not this one, not that one… where is it…'

"This one, right?" Ryoma suddenly said, holding up a roll.

"Ah, thank you, Ryoma-kun!" Sakuno said, taking it from him and examining it. It was indeed her new favorite. "How did you know?"

"You switched to a more textured grip after you played singles for Hyotei," he said. "I'm guessing for better control."

She smiled shyly, ducking her head. "Yeah… I was really nervous during that match and my palms were more sweaty than usual. Near the end of the match, the racket was kind of slipping in my hand.

"It's not why I lost, but it probably caused a couple errors that led to Hyotei being able to turn the game around." She stretched her right arm out, gave it a little swing.

Ryoma just stared at her. He knew she was improving rapidly and taking the game more seriously, but hearing such logical deductions come from her mouth was quite surprising. Maybe in the back of his mind, he had grown accustomed to boxing her into the image of that girl who would try at tennis. Try, but never really succeed. Never really excel.

It was unfair of him to think of her like that, Ryoma realized. He'd picked up a racket before he could walk, Fuji-senpai was probably always a tensai, and Tezuka-buchou dominated the court in a way where you knew he was born to play tennis, but...

Just because Ryuzaki had a later start than the rest of them didn't mean she had any less potential. They were all beginners once.

"Ryoma-kun? Are you ok?" Sakuno was peering at him, her brow furrowed. "What's up?"

He blinked owlishly. "Yeah," he said. "I was just thinking that…" You're getting really good at it. Tennis.

You're better than I gave you credit for.

"That?" she prompted, her eyes big and soft.

"That… That it's hot today," he finished lamely. He took his cap off and ran an awkward hand through his hair. "Do you want to get some ice cream?"

"Oh. Sure! Let me just go pay for this tape first." Sakuno scurried off to the register, leaving Ryoma to process his conflicting feelings in her wake.

-x-

A few minutes later, the two of them were sitting in front of a local cafe, digging into some chocolate fudge sundaes.

Ryoma pushed the ice cream back and forth with his spoon, as if he might find the answer to the weird feeling he had at the bottom of the bowl.

At what point had he stopped thinking of Ryuzaki as that navigationally-challenged, clumsy, tennis newbie? At what point had she become… frighteningly competent?

At what point did looking in her reddish brown eyes cause his stomach to do odd little flip flops?

Well, ok - that last one might be due to lactose intolerance or something. He placed a hand on his stomach, giving the ice cream a suspicious glare.

"...And that's why Granny always wears the same purple track suit…" Sakuno was saying, laughing as she came to the conclusion of what appeared to be a highly amusing story.

Ryoma's face remained blank.

"Ryoma-kun?" Sakuno prodded, now looking more and more concerned.

Never before had he wished he had better verbal skills. Instead, he had to settle with a "Sorry. What?"

"Is everything okay, Ryoma-kun?" she asked again, putting the spoon down. "You're acting a bit strange today." She paused, and added, "Stranger than usual, at least."

Ryoma was taken aback. "Do I normally act strange?"

A teasing smile lurked in her voice. "Well, I don't know many people that would waltz into an unknown school and challenge a whole team for all their tennis balls."

"But they deserved it," he insisted petulantly, and her smile grew wider.

"You're just—" she started to say, but was cut off. The shop next to them suddenly exploded with loud electronic music, making both of them jump. Ryoma immediately scooted his chair back (he hated loud music), except that his eyes caught onto a flash of bright magenta hair. "Is that… Marui-senpai?"

"It is!" Sakuno got out of her chair, taking a step towards the source of the noise. "C'mon, let's go see. Kimiko-senpai!" She pressed her face against the glass to see. "Kimiko-senpai!"

"She can't hear us…" Ryoma, always good at stating the obvious. The short-second year had a pair of giant headphones on, and was bobbing her head up and down to the beat.

Sakuno reached for the door. It was unlocked. "Kimiko-senpai!" she said again, as she pushed the door open. Her waving arm almost hit Ryoma in the nose. "Kimiko-senpai!"

Kimiko's eyes landed on her. For the briefest moment, she looked like a deer, caught in the headlights. Then, her shoulders slumped comfortably, and she grinned, turning the volume down. "Crap, you've caught me."

"What are you doing?"

She slung the headphones around her neck. "It's my newest hobby!"

Ryoma pressed a finger to his ear and massaged it. "I didn't know destroying other people's eardrums could be considered a hobby…"

Sakuno kicked him lightly, and turned back to the pink-haired girl. "What is this place?" The room was pretty empty, save for the sound-boxes and a few lights.

"It's just a empty storefront up here, but there's a local club down the stairs. My uncle owns it. I've been practicing my DJ skills."

"Dee… Jay?" Sakuno echoed slowly, eyes widening.

Kimiko pressed a finger to her lips. "Only don't tell anyone, kay? I'm not supposed to be in the club since I'm underage." She sighed. "Mou, if only I looked like Tezuka or something. I could pass for twenty."

Sakuno giggled. "Whatever you were playing sounded pretty good!"

"Thanks! I just altered an existing mix. My uncle says I'm good for a beginner, but…" She shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not like I'm Skrillex or anything."

Ryoma blinked. "Who's that?"

Her lavender eyes went wide. "Echizen-chan, you're from America and you don't know who Skrillex is? I thought you grew up in LA."

"Does he play tennis?"

She stared at him, bewildered. "No."

"Then there's no point in me knowing who he is." Ryoma was perfectly content to turn on his heel smartly and walk away at this point, but unfortunately for him, Sakuno still seemed super curious in learning more.

"How did you get into this music stuff, senpai?" the brown-haired girl asked.

She stuck her tongue out and winked. "I love music, but can't play any instruments and I can't sing for my life." She pressed a couple buttons on the console, and another beat came to life. "Electronic music is all the rage now, so I wanted to try it. I really like matching different rhythms and beats, especially stuff that unexpectedly goes together."

Sakuno peered over at the controller. It had rows and rows of buttons and knobs that were color-coded, and looked excessively complicated. "That looks really, really hard."

"Nah, writing computer scripts is harder," Kimiko declared. She turned a knob, and Sakuno heard the vocals on the track become more prominent. "This is much more fun, and it gets a lot easier once you know where everything is."

"Senpai, you're really good at math, right?" Sakuno asked. She vaguely remembered Sayaka saying something about it — that Kimiko napped through math class on the regular, but always ended up with perfect scores. "Is it like that?"

"Sorta!" She grinned. "It's all about syncing patterns." She bopped her head up and down to the beat, and her fingers moved quickly across the console. A second later, a different track came on, seamlessly layering over the original.

Ryoma raised an eyebrow. "You do this instead of tennis practice?"

She puffed out her cheeks. "What are you trying to say, shrimpy? That my tennis isn't good enough for you?"

"You're shorter than me, senpai," Ryoma said back, smirking slightly as she planted her hands on her hips. "And I just meant that it must be pretty important to you." He shrugged. "To do instead of tennis."

"Well, it's how I relax." She stretched her arms over her head. "Especially when I get frustrated with tennis. It's nice to have something else to do, from time to time. Helps keep me sane." She flipped a few switches, and the music stopped. "Echizen, what do you do to chill out?"

"Tennis."

Kimiko laughed, and Sakuno shook her head with exasperated fondness.

"Honestly," Kimiko said, reaching over to pat his head. "I think you miss out on a lot of life if all you do is tennis."

"That's not all I…" Ryoma grumbled, moving out of her reach. "I can do other stuff. I just like tennis."

"Really?" Kimiko clasped a hand to her mouth in mock astonishment. "I never knew would've guessed, Echizen. Please, tell me more."

Ryoma made a noise of contempt, and Sakuno laughed. "Senpai, don't tease him too much. I think it's admirable that Ryoma-kun has such a passion for tennis." She turned to him with an encouraging smile, which made him go every-so-slightly pink. "It's nice to have such a clear goal in mind."

"Yeah," Kimiko said after a moment, and her voice was so peculiarly soft and reverent, it made Sakuno do a double-take. The pink haired girl leaned her back against the wall. "Yeah. I bet that's really nice."

"Senpai?" Sakuno offered.

Kimiko was silent for a second longer. "Anyways," she said cheerfully, suddenly snapping back to her preppy self. It was like she had a internal switch, as if her happy side could be accessed with with the click of a button. "Y'all are disturbing my precious practice time! Go on and enjoy the rest of your day." She made shoo-ing gestures with her hands.

"Let's go, Ryuzaki." Ryoma's hand closed on her wrist. Sakuno jumped, but let him lead her to the door. "Senpai," he said over his shoulder. "You might want to turn the volume down. At that decibel, I bet that Krill-eggs guy can hear you all the way from LA."

"Ha — it- it's Skrillex haha," Kimiko barely managed to gasp among her peals of giggles. She gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up as she put her headphones back on.

-x-

"I'm curious, what is it that drew you to Murakami's works?" Fuji asked, his eyes folding into teasing crescents. "The violent murders, or the themes of incest?"

Izumi's lips curved, and she held another hand against her mouth to hid her smile. "It's not that," she insisted. "Even when he writes about horrible things, there's that surreal, dreamlike quality to it." She traced a circle on a napkin. "If I had to describe his writing style, I would say it's like a Zen garden — like those rocks with sand raked around them in perfect vertical lines. It's just always a peaceful read."

"You make an oddly convincing argument for those grisly scenes," he commented.

"Well, there's also a talking cat in one of his books that helps the character. Who doesn't love a talking cat?"

"Well, now I know it's book with surrealism," the tensai said, his eyes shining with laughter. "I'm pretty sure if cats could talk, they'd be screeching "feed me" at the top of their lungs non-stop."

Her eyes lit up in amusement. "It sounds like you speak from experience."

"My sister—" he began.

Her phone suddenly vibrated on the table. "Sorry," she said, immediately hitting the "End Call" button without looking. "Fuji-kun, you were saying?"

He hadn't even gotten a word out when her phone vibrated again. "I'm so sorry," she said apologetically, checking the screen. She frowned, not recognizing the number.

"You can answer that, if you'd like," he said pleasantly.

"Eh?" She glanced at him in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"Of course. Someone is clearly trying to get in touch with you."

"I'm sorry for being rude." She got up from her seat and moved a few steps away, though she was still within earshot. "Hello?" Her eyes widened as she recognized the voice. "Sanada-kun…?"

Fuji glanced up with interest. 'Sanada?' That Sanada?

"He… he did what?" Her voice was now strained, breathless. "Okay. Yes, I can be right there." She put her phone down, looking at him apologetically. "I'm so sorry, Fuji-san. I need to get to the hospital. Yukimura-kun… he…"

"I can go with you," he offered, rising from his seat, but she put up a hand.

"Please, don't trouble yourself," she said. A fine stress line had formed in between her brows. "I can go alone. I just… I'm so sorry for ruining this."

'It's okay, you aren't ruining anything,' is what he should say, Fuji thought. But there was a faint sour feeling that was making him hold his tongue. He could tell his lack of response made her a little uncomfortable; from the way she paused anxiously, the way her lip caught in between her teeth.

Still, he said nothing.

As she rushed by him, she stopped to touch his arm. "I… I was having a lovely time," she said. And she smiled a little.

And suddenly what bitter feeling he had was gone.

Because her half-smile was so very lovely, soft and hesitant, warm and alluring. Since she smiled so rarely, it felt like a gift, like she had given something to him personally. It made him feel incredibly special.

Before he could respond, she was already out the door.

Fuji stared at the empty spot on his arm where she'd touched him. The ghost of her fingers were still warm against his skin.

Had she lingered a bit longer, he might've caught her wrist and pulled her in close.

-x-

Izumi saw a group of people in mustard yellow at the end of the hall. Her hurried steps echoed across the quiet hospital corridor, causing some heads to turn towards her curiously.

She avoided eye contact with everyone else. "Sanada-kun."

The tall second-year met her partway down the hall, looking more disheveled and distraught than she had ever seen him. "Morioka. Thank you for coming."

"What happened? Yukimura-kun… is he..."

"That's the thing," Sanada said, and he sounded so frustrated. "I don't know what happened. I don't know what…" He exhaled, a pained expression on his face. "He's upset. He just… he threw us all out. Could you talk to him?"

She folded her hands behind her, her lips pressed nervously. "I… I don't see how I would make a difference."

'Why me? Why me, of all people?'

"Try, Morioka." His voice was oddly strangled. "Please."

She'd only ever seen Yukimura annoyed, and that was unsettling enough. This was like walking into a dragon's den, unguarded. It was definitely one of the last places she wanted to be at this moment.

And yet, she had come.

"Okay," she finally said. She swallowed. "I'll try."

As she walked towards his hospital room, she passed by the rest of the Rikkaidai tennis team. She'd seen them from afar, and occasionally passed a member or two in the hall of the hospital, but had never seen them all together like this. The atmosphere was heavy, made even more so by the collective gloom that seemed to permeate the entire team.

Most of them gave her only a cursory glance, noting her with a mild interest. But there were two boys that reacted differently - though, on opposite sides of the spectrum.

At the end of the corridor, there was curly-headed boy crying, his fist against the wall. He seemed the most affected by whatever had happened. Tears streamed down his reddened cheeks, making him look so young and boyish and vulnerable. He hadn't noticed her at all.

In the corner sat a pale-headed boy, his chin propped in his hand. He was not crying, or desolate like the rest of the team; if anything, there was a cold, apathetic aura about him. His icy eyes were on her, and she felt him regard her with a contemptuous sort of curiosity. Like he would cut her open just to see what she was made of.

She shivered and averted her gaze.

To get to his room, she had to step by a girl, whom she recognized as Fukuda Hanae - the soft-spoken captain of the Rikkaidai girl's team. Izumi was rather surprised, since the last time they'd met, Fukuda had barely bothered to hide her apparent distaste of Yukimura.

Strange, that she was the only girl from the team who'd shown up.

She hardly dared to meet the tall female captain's eyes, but when she did, Fukuda's violet eyes softened slightly. Good luck.

Izumi knocked on the door hesitantly. When she got no response, she sucked in a breath, and pushed the door open.

Yukimura was sitting upright in the bed, his face turned towards the window. His back was straight as a board, and shouldered squared back tensely. At the sound of the door, he only turned part-way, so he could identify her peripherally.

"I'm sorry," he said, facing stonily forward. "But I'm not feeling up for visitors right now."

Her mouth went dry. She should leave. She should. He was asking her to. There was no reason for her to stay - heck, if the rest of his team couldn't lift his spirits, why should she believe she was any different?

The air in the room was thick with negativity. It was worse than the gloom she'd felt outside in the corridor - that had been a weighty cloud, hovering over them all. This was a quiet, deathly rage.

Somehow, she summoned the courage to close the door behind her, though her hands shook when she did.

He didn't glance at her, but she knew he was acutely aware of her presence from the way he'd stiffened slightly.

She thought: Disobedience was probably uncommon in his realm of influence.

In that moment, she understood just a little why Sanada had called her, had asked her to come. She was not Rikkai, not part of Yukimura's team, legion, nor followers. She was an outsider. He wouldn't be able to dismiss her so easily.

Slightly emboldened by this realization, she took a step towards him. Then another. And another, until she was standing beside his hospital bed.

His voice came out in a pained whisper. "Please leave."

She willed herself to anchor her feet to the ground.

"Please," he said again. "I… I don't want to be angry with you."

She barely managed to conceal a wince.

Contrary to popular belief, Yukimura never attempted to mask his emotions, and instead wielded them with a frighteningly deft hand. When he smiled through his anger, you felt it like a knife.

A few weeks ago, there was an incident with an over-enthusiastic nurse, whose misplaced cheer had gotten on Yukimura's nerves. His irritation manifested into cold politeness laced with so much venom, the poor nurse had practically fled the room in tears. Even Izumi had stilled in fear; it felt eerily like a paralytic had been shot through her veins.

She had no desire to be on the receiving end of his annoyance, much less his rage.

'Don't be angry,' she thought. 'It doesn't suit you.' His smile could feel so hurtful when he did it out of cruelty.

But when he smiled because he was happy, truly happy, it was positively radiant. The warmth in his expression could fill a whole room with sunshine. It was how she liked to think of him, a glow in his eyes, surrounded by flowers that couldn't help but turn towards his vivacity.

Not the way he was now, ashen and cold, lips drawn into a tight line.

'No,' she thought. 'Bring me back my sunshine boy.'

The only warmth in the room was the sunlight tracing his hair in a golden halo. She wondered if it was as soft as it looked. Impulsively she reached out, running her fingers through the navy strands by his ear.

He didn't jerk away, which surprised her. She moved her hand to trace the curves of his face, the smooth edges of his cheekbones.

It was like she was unraveling him. His stony expression melted under her fingertips, and his body slumped.

"I couldn't… They can't…" His words came out in ragged breaths. "They can't see me like this." His hands fisted the sheets frustratingly.

"I understand," Izumi said quietly, but she knew she could only understand so much.

She knew that terrified feeling of drowning in your own helplessness, of being confronted with how little control you had over your own fate. How angry you felt from people telling you to have a positive attitude about your diagnosis, and how you wanted to shove that positivity down their throats.

But how could she know what it was like to support an entire team? To bear the pressure of going after yet another expected National Title? To return to his court, his territory, stronger than ever? How could he carry that sort of burden when his legs could barely carry his own weight?

"I can't feel my legs," he finally whispered, and her heart broke.

It took everything in her not to cry.

"I can't feel my legs," he said again, the repetition of words resigned and almost masochistic. She wondered if it was his first time admitting it out loud. "I can't feel my legs anymore."

She wasn't sure what to say. Honestly, probably nothing she said in that moment could've fixed anything.

He leaned his forehead into her shoulder, and breathed. Though his cheeks remained dry, the dry sobs racked his body so much that his shoulders shook.

"Yukimura-kun…" She moved her hand to stroke his hair, a gesture her mother did to her sometimes that always brought her comfort. "You know I don't expect anything from you…"

He stilled slightly, and she quickly added, "What I mean is, I'm not part of your team or Rikkaidai, or your family. So whatever lofty expectations you think you have to live up to." She pressed her hand against his shoulder. "You don't have to, at least not with me."

Yukimura had once told her about his little sister - a girl who'd taken one look at him bedridden and ill, and promptly left. She eventually transferred to boarding school in the United States.

He never really recovered from that.

"I don't expect you to be a captain, or a leader, or a role model... or some kind of Messiah-like figure… I... " She bit her lip.

'I don't need you to be Child of God.'

"Whatever you feel like you can't say or do in front of your team… I won't judge you," she promised, trying to keep her voice steady and sure. "Whatever dark, twisted feelings or thoughts you have… I've had them too."

For a moment, he just breathed, his head still ducked. Then, he lifted his head fractionally, though kept his eyes downward, and spoke words that were all too familiar to her: "I wish this happened to someone else."

A soft exhale left her lips.

He continued, every word strained, "If I could shift this to someone else on my team, I would. If one of them… If Renji or Sanada or any of them could take this burden off of me, I would let them.

"I see them walk out of here—" His voice broke here, and became a vicious whisper "—on their perfectly good legs, and it… it makes me so frustrated. It makes me hate them a little." He slammed a fist against the mattress with a soft thump. "They have no idea how lucky they are.

"This disease should've happened to someone else. Someone who doesn't play tennis, or at least, someone who doesn't play…" He glared at the sterile white bed sheets, at his legs that lay beneath them. "Play it like I do."

His hands tightened on the sheets, and he said in a disgusted voice, "What kind of captain wishes this sort of illness on someone on their team?"

Izumi knew exactly how he felt - the way bitterness flooded your mouth, the way your blood boiled at the injustice of it all, the cruel reality you were living in. How you resented the happiness of others. The utter self-loathing you felt when such poisonous thoughts were coiled within your mind.

She rested her fingers against his arm and murmured softly, "One that's human."

'You may be called Child of God, Yukimura-kun, but you are more human than any of us.'

He smiled bitterly. "Sanada would never have a thought like this. He's far too moral for that." He leaned back, head tilted to the ceiling. "I wish I could be that strong."

"Being strong doesn't mean… it doesn't mean you have to be strong at everything." She made to grasp his hands, but hesitated, and instead let them fall by her side. "You are one of the strongest people I know."

These words seemed to bring him a little more comfort, or perhaps it was the act of confessing all his thoughts. The tenseness in his frame had softened greatly. He looked more tired now, than angry. "I just wish…" He shook his head, once, bleakly. "This should've happened to someone with no potential. Wouldn't that be better for everyone?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "Like a legless man or something. Or a quadriplegic eighty-year old who lives alone in Nagoya who hates Studio Ghibli movies."

Yukimura lifted his head and stared at her for a second like she was crazy. An incredulous bubble of laughter rose in his throat. "What?" he said.

Izumi blinked. "I mean… what kind of person hates Studio Ghibli movies?" she mumbled, blushing slightly. "Probably someone mean and spiteful and who doesn't recognize joy…"

Another amused laugh spilled from his mouth. "You just… you said that so seriously. Izumi-san, you're funny." The smile that spread across his face was like daybreak after a storm, the light passing through a dark sheen.

The immediate, intense relief she felt swept over her in a wave, nearly making her collapse.

Soon, their conversation turned to mindless chatting about the latest Miyazaki film, Boro the Caterpillar, the mood instantly shifted. In the back of her mind, Izumi wondered if she'd helped at all - had she helped fill the hollowness he felt, or had she just patched a crack in the surface? As his disease progressed, would he one day descend into so much despair that she wouldn't be able to connect with him any longer - that he would turn his hurtful gaze and malevolent words towards her? She feared that he could.

But at least for now, Yukimura was smiling again, and just like that, something in the room had thawed.

-x-

People often assumed that a tensai had very little to puzzle over.

People were wrong.

Everyday problems and equations were easily solved by him, so Fuji found that he enjoyed seeking out more complex enigmas to bemuse over.

There was nothing more complex than another person.

He supposed that he always felt something for Morioka Izumi, though before it was largely curiosity. Fascination for who she was. Even when she was only his classmate, he'd observed her keenly - she was a pendulum of a girl, swinging between different sides of a coin: docile, headstrong, cold, and warm.

That's what made her a great photography subject. The varying emotions that could play across her face always made for an interesting capture.

A photograph was a simply a direct transference of emotion from the subject to the brain of the viewer. A photographer was merely a conduit for this emotional connection.

Fitting, wasn't it, that his own emotional connection was the one getting entangled.

He wasn't sure at what point she'd become a romantic interest. It was probably always lurking the in the back of his mind, but it wasn't until earlier that day when he'd felt it hit him, a jolt in his heart, like he'd been physically struck by an arrow.

All she did was smile, and he became obsessed with how beautiful it was on her.

That moment was a missed opportunity. She'd left their date to go tend to someone else. He knew that didn't equate to her choosing someone else over him, but well… There were rumors that she and Rikkai's captain were somewhat involved.

Fuji decided to meet her at the hospital. It was on his way back home, which made stopping by a convenient and believable excuse. Perhaps he'd walk her home. Perhaps inquire what her relationship with Yukimura was.

Perhaps ask her if she'd be interested in dating.

A short subway ride and walk later, he was standing outside the Tsuchira hospital. He fished his phone out of his pocket, and was just about to text her, when he heard her voice wafting outside of one of the hospital windows.

She was saying something about Miyazaki films. Fuji took a couple steps so he was standing directly below that open window, and craned his neck slightly to listen.

"Studio Ghibli films," she was saying. "Are like someone put all your fondest, softest childhood dreams into a movie."

A small laugh, presumably from Yukimura. "Did you dream about getting devoured by giant No-Faced monsters?"

"Only on occasion."

Fuji could hear the teasing smile in her voice, and her response drew a chuckle out of him. He liked that she slowly showing the humorous side of her personality, but at the same time, there was a nagging, slightly unpleasant feeling: I thought you saved that lighthearted side for me.

He wondered if she was smiling the way she'd smiled at him earlier.

"So," he heard Yukimura say. His tone had shifted, taking on a solemn note. "How are you doing?"

There was a long pause. "I'm… coping," he heard her say.

Coping? Fuji's eyes widened a little. Coping with what?

Her words clearly meant something to Yukimura, because he didn't ask her anything else regarding it. "I'm so sorry that Sanada bothered you on a day off. Were you doing anything special?"

A beat of silence. Fuji found himself subconsciously leaning forward.

Then she said, "No. Nothing particularly special."

-x-

Outside under the window, Fuji let out a breath, his hand tightening into a fist around his phone. There was a faint tightness stirring in his chest earlier, which had now blossomed into a throb against his ribs. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to be with her, but he knew now with absolute certainty that he didn't want her to even entertain the idea of being with anyone else.

If that earlier missed opportunity ended up becoming a lost opportunity, he wasn't sure he'd be able to forgive himself.

Dropping his phone back in his pocket, he turned and went straight home, without a backwards look.

-x-

Akane stifled a yawn. "Okay, seriously, what kind of person volunteers to come into the clubhouse to do paperwork on their day off?"

Reina efficiently stamped pages of documents with a three-hole punch, before placing them in color-coordinated binders. "You need to finish filing these ranking results before the weekend is over, so the next ranking matches won't be so unsystematic. The block system was rampageous —no— discombobulated as best."

"They were not a hot mess." Akane rolled her eyes. "You're exaggerating."

Reina pointedly looked at the indistinguishable stack of black binders on the corner of the desk, papers haphazardly sticking out of each one. Akane had to admit that Reina's method of labeling each section with neat, colored tabs made them much more functional. Plus, it made them prettier.

Though, the data-oriented senior had seemed a little too eager to tackle this project.

"You know what I think?" Akane asked. Reina quirked a brow at her, but kept her eyes on the task at hand. "I think that you just want to do mindless work so you can take your mind off your own tumultuous feelings."

"That belief is fallacious."

"Uh-huh." Akane nodded sarcastically. "Right."

"I don't— hey!"

Akane had plucked her sketchbook out of her bag, flipping through to the last page. "Exhibit A: This is the same picture as the one you had three weeks ago," she said, pointing to the pencil sketch of Tezuka. "When's the last time you drew something new?"

Reina held her hand out for her book. "I don't recall," she muttered stubbornly, stuffing it back into her bag, though they both knew the answer to that.

"Don't tell me you're too busy pining after boys to be my resident data expert."

A muscle in her jaw jumped.

The ginger-haired girl gave a dramatic sigh. "Can I even expect you to gather intel on who were playing next?"

Reina drew herself upright, her spine stick-straight. "Rokkaku High School. Prefecture: Chiba. Captain, Aizawa Rei. Aggressive baseliner, favors her right over her left side, is partial to slice volleys. Height, one-point-six-three meters. Weight, fifty-two kilograms. Favorite food: Spaghetti. Favorite animal: Rhino. Favorite TV Sh—"

Akane cut her off with a that's-enough wave of her arm, grinning. "Yeah yeah, you win. Your stalker skills are still top-notch. Sorry that I doubted you."

Reina adjusted her spectacles in a disgruntled manner. "Well. Based on the data, it will probably be our most challenging endeavor since Hyotei."

"What do you think their strategy will be?"

Reina tapped her fingers together. "Most likely… putting their hard-hitters in Doubles One, to take out Sayaka-chan. And their finesse-based players, like second-year Asakura Mio, in Doubles Two - but it is highly contingent on whether we'll have Komboi Aiko in our lineup."

Akane rubbed her forehead. "Yeah… I have yet to make a decision about that. Aiko might resent me for pulling her from the lineup, but..." She shook her head. "Kimiko would hate me."

Before Reina could respond, someone walked into the clubhouse. It was Inui. "S-sorry," he stammered, cheeks pink, upon seeing the two girls. "I—I was, um, looking for some cones to borrow for a training exercise tomorrow."

"They're in the back," Akane responded, seeing how Reina had suddenly immersed herself into a binder, looking like she'd rather dive between the pages and disappear.

"R-right." Inui retrieved a few stacks of cones. "Well, sorry again for disturbing you two." He gave a stiff bow, and retreated out of the clubhouse as fast he could.

Akane waited for his footsteps to disappear. "Well, that was awkward."

Reina said nothing.

"So are you and Inui just going to continue to act like strangers?" Akane pressed forward. "It kind of sucks to have our data pair divided."

The black-haired girl said in a small mumble, "We're fine."

Akane made a nondescript wave towards the door. "That was not fine."

"Okay, we're not fine." She shifted in her seat. "But… we will be. I think. Either way, it's our problem. You don't need to fix it."

"Yeah, I know. I'm just checking up on you. Don't be irascible about it."

Reina did a double-take in shock, and Akane smirked in satisfaction. She did a mini fist-pump. "SAT vocab, whaaaat—"

The black-haired girl couldn't resist laughing.

-x-

A day later...

-x-

If she looked into a mirror now, Izumi was half-convinced she would see that she'd been reduced from a girl into a shimmering cloud of butterflies.

(Actually, she'd once read that a group of butterflies was called a 'kaleidoscope.' A kaleidoscope of butterflies, then. A fragile, trembling, kaleidoscope of butterflies.)

It had nothing to do with the intense training drills they'd just completed at tennis practice, though those had taken a heavy physical toll on her. She'd slacked off the last couple days, and was paying the consequences in aching muscles and tired limbs.

No, her nerves were frayed because of an entirely different reason. The butterflies were not just in her stomach, they were all over, tingling down her spine, fluttering in her chest cavity.

After Coach Ryuzaki had called an end to practice, Fuji had approached her and politely asked if she wouldn't mind meeting him after they'd showered and changed. "For what?" she'd asked, and he'd only responded mysteriously, "To talk."

Izumi had seen plenty of movies and read plenty of books, so she knew—that phrase never bode well for anyone.

It had to be about something serious.

They'd had plenty of time to talk trivial matters on their date —if it was a date, she still wasn't a hundred percent convinced it was— so if it wasn't about something trivial, that automatically meant that it was something serious.

Maybe he was still upset that she'd ditched him halfway through. She could tell that his feelings were slightly hurt at the time, but he'd treated her so normally during practice earlier, she'd assumed all was forgiven. Maybe she ought to apologize again.

Even after her shower, Izumi felt restless and jittery, like she'd just downed three cups of coffee. Resisting the urge to just pace outside until he emerged, she stepped back onto the tennis court. The first-years had already swept it clean, so she removed her shoes upon entering. She dropped her bag on the ground, held her arms outstretched, and did a little piqué dance turn.

In an instant, she felt relaxed, grounded.

She breathed out, did another piqué turn. Her heartbeat settled even more. She spun again, picking up momentum — piqué, piqué, chaînés, chaînés turn turn turn, across the ground. Her feet aligned with the white line of the court perfectly on each spin, and it brought her a flash of satisfaction every time. A simple pleasure.

She finished on other side of the court, her toe pointed to the intersection of two crisp white lines. She smiled a little, and swept into a dramatic curtsy for her imaginary audience.

She started twirling back down the lines the way she came, and had gotten through about three and a quarter turns when she inadvertently met Fuji's gaze.

And immediately lost her balance.

Somehow she managed to come to a graceful halt, instead of hurtling into the green wire fence. "H-how long have you been watching?" she asked, blushing furiously.

Silken amusement colored his laugh. "Long enough," he replied, and she knew that he'd seen her curtsy.

Izumi ducked her head down sheepishly as she went to fetch her shoes and her bag.

"How was the rest of your day yesterday?" he asked after they'd taken a seat on a bench just outside the court. The area was quiet, save for a breeze rustling through the trees. Everyone else had already left.

"It was good…" she answered vaguely. With Fuji, she was never really sure if he was merely exchanging pleasantries, or prodding for information. She doubted it was the former. "Again, I'm really sorry I had to cut our lunch short," she blurted out, folding her hands anxiously on top of one another. "I had a good time."

"I did too." His hand came down to push some silky strands out of his eyes, and it occurred to her that he looked just the tiniest bit unsettled, an emotion she'd never associated with him before. He opened his mouth as if to add something, then reconsidered as he gave her a measured look.

"Izumi-san." He paused in a terribly deliberate way, and she hardly dared to draw a breath.

(Butterflies, she thought distinctly. A kaleidoscope of butterflies.)

Then, he said a sentence that felt like a cannonball to her gut, knocking all the air from her lungs in one swoop. "I think we should date."

In five words, the painstaking exercise she'd done to soothe her heart rate was rendered useless. Five words had caused the traitorous organ to catapult straight into her throat. "W-What?"

His smiling expression didn't change. "I think you heard me."

Her thoughts were spinning, twisting, unraveling and she couldn't breathe. She swallowed thickly. "Why?"

"Because I like you, Izumi."

Wham. Another cannonball.

Suddenly the atmosphere was too quiet, as if even the wind in the trees had gone silent to hear her answer. She wet her lips nervously.

A fool could tell that there was something between them, something that had always been there, and Izumi was no fool. But never in a million years had she expected Fuji to be so straightforward, not when all his other actions had been carefully engineered, motivations murky and unclear.

And frankly, she had no idea how to handle it. She'd never really dated in the past, and she'd only received two confessions in her life, both from very bookish and introverted members of the student council. Neither had half of Fuji's princely charm or natural grace.

Her head was spinning round in circles. She felt like she was six years old again and just learning how to do pirouettes and fouettés for the first time, whirling off-balance and tripping over her feet, all dizzy and giddy and tangled.

Dazed, she managed, "I… I don't know what to say."

He took her hand, the warmth of his own hypnotic against her skin. He ran his thumb along every single knuckle, before raising his eyes to hers. The look in his eyes… she would've described it as "gentle," had the air around them not suddenly become heavy and moist.

"Say yes," he murmured, that princely charm ever-present in his voice. A princely charm, yes, but a princely authority as well — the air of someone used to getting his way. "Say yes."

He hadn't actually asked her a question, but it didn't matter. She would say no. She had to say no, had to keep him at arm's length, because she was clearly incapable of any sort of rational thought when he was looking at her like that.

She meant to say no. Izumi was sure of that. But for reasons she could not explain, the word that came out of her mouth was, "...Okay."

"Okay?" he repeated. He seemed surprised, but amused.

It was like she'd severed a connection between her heart and her brain. The rational side of her was telling her to run— not walk— the other way, and yet her lips moved and she said again, "Okay."

He leaned towards her, kissed her once, gently. The light brush of his lips against hers was electric.

His smile was equal parts joy and satisfaction. He stood, wrapping her hand loosely in his. "Can I walk you home?"

She felt absolutely lightheaded. Her heart was a trapped bird, fluttering against her ribcage. "O-Okay."

He chuckled lightly. "Is that how you're going to answer all my questions from now on?"

In that moment, Izumi felt out of her body, like her life was happening and she was watching it play out like a movie. She barely recognized the girl that was holding his hand, walking by his side. The girl that had just kissed those lips.

"I… I'm... not sure," she heard herself say faintly.

Truth be told, she wasn't really sure of anything anymore.

~x~

A scene from later

~x~

"Sayaka! Yo, Sayaka!" Ichikawa Remi, her former gymnastics team captain, came running for her through the hallway, brushing past some of her classmates. "I've been looking for you."

"And I guess you found me," Sayaka said, after a long chug from her water bottle. "Dammit, this invisibility cloak is a dud. What's up?"

She gave her a huge smile. "Get your leotard on," she ordered excitedly. "I got the gymnastics team reinstated. We start competing again next month."

Sayaka stopped short. "What? What did you say?"

Her smile shrunk a few molars. "I said, the gymnastics team is back in business." She looked at her earnestly. "We need you."

The black-haired girl laughed awkwardly, her hand automatically feeling for the strap of her tennis bag. "Sorry buchou, I play tennis now."

"Tennis, shmennis!" She waved a hand, as if what Sayaka said was neither here nor there. "It doesn't matter now. You have to come back to us. You were a star on our team, especially on the trampoline."

She gave her a baffled look. "But... I can't just… quit."

"You know, Sayaka," Remi said, her face completely serious. "I'm graduating this semester. If you stick with us, I would probably make you captain for next year."

"C-captain?" Sayaka repeated, stunned.

Remi smiled again, although this time there was a glint of something else. "That'll be a kick-ass thing to add onto your college applications, don't you think?"

Sayaka didn't know what to say. She felt lost and confused, like the world was spinning around her. Tennis. Gymnastics. Hadn't she invested her heart and soul in both? Why did she have to choose?

Why did they both have to take place at the same time?

Remi clasped her on the shoulder. "You're a gymnast at heart. This tennis thing was temporary to begin with."

~x~

End Chapter Thirty-Three HOLY SHIT OMG.

First of all you guys, omg they've reanimated the original Tezuka vs. Atobe match for a new Prince of Tennis OVA. The animation is so beautiful and the trailer gave me all the inspo for this chapter.

I heard they also reanimated the Fuji vs Kirihara match and Niou-Yagyuu vs Kikumaru Oishi match to align with the original manga. That means no more stupid golf swing move omg yes. Gotta get my hands on those vids. If you have a link, email it to me.

A letter to my TCAFS readers

Um, hi. It's been so long, and I know I owe you all an explanation? An apology? Idk.

To be honest, I'm not sure if I have any intention of picking this story back up again after this chapter. While I love writing, and love all of you, it's hard for me to drum up more inspiration for TCAFS.

There's so much about this story that I'm ashamed of.

This story started as the manifestation of a 14ish year old's fantasy. It's harsh to say that I had neither talent nor creativity, but sometimes that's how I feel about it. Honestly, I feel like I pigeonholed myself into certain plots and character details. I've abused every single anime trope and shojo plotline, and it's been so long in between updates that I can't stay consistent to plot details - nor do I want to anymore.

For example, why did I choose to follow canon timeline but adjust it so that they were in high school? WHY DIDN'T I JUST SET IT 3 YEARS LATER LIKE A NORMAL PERSON LOL

(I know the answer to that, it's because I didn't have enough creativity to come up with my own plotline at the time LOL and I've been paying for it ever since. Why why whyyyyy)

In the span of TCAFS existing (10 years hot damn) I'm sure you've all grown up. You've graduated high school, gone to college, fallen in and out of love, read so many more worthy bits of writing.

And if I'm real with you guys about it, I'm scared.

You've all grown up. Matured. And I feel like my writing hasn't. Not to the point where I can still deliver work that you'll enjoy.

And the reason why I update YWISSG more often is because at least that story gave me a clean slate. Also it helps that I have coffeelatte's It's All Greek for inspo, and we still chat about our writing endeavors even though for the most part, we've moved on with our lives. (I'm still mad that she deleted/rewrote My Kouhai Your Kouhai and Rising Ambitions though. Those would've helped me write more.)

A lot of OC writers were popping up back in 2011-13, and I had more inspiration then, but so many authors have disappeared or haven't been updating, and so many works I enjoyed have since been deleted.

I started writing this chapter back when Neon Genesis reposted 250 Dark Stars, but then she went and deleted that again. Super bummed she never got around to posting the rest of Kick Drum Hearts since that story always did amazing things to my inspiration, and was an example of what I thought an OC fic should be like.

(Actually, four years ago I asked if I could use Sayoko in TCAFS and she said yes but without her work as reference material I don't feel comfortable writing her character haha, so there's a small hint of her in there as a tribute.)

Ultimately, I wanted to thank you guys. Your support and feedback through the years has made me who I am. I'm a better human because of it. On days that I felt super sad, I would reread some of the messages and reviews that you guys left me. There were so many times I felt like a failure, but you guys had sent me messages like "this story helped me get through a tough time" or "this is the story that inspired me to write and create my own OCs."

So even in my worst times, where I felt worthless or awful, I felt so much better knowing that I somehow made a positive impact in someone else's life. No matter how little that impact may be.

I don't know how many of you will see this since it's been so long, but I want to thank you.

Thank you for being there for me.

Thank you for the heartfelt messages.

Thank you for being patient through the awful bits of writing.

Thank you for everything.

Is this a goodbye letter to TCAFS? I can't say for sure. I don't know what's going to happen. But know that I always have a special place in my heart for you readers, and for my fanfic. I always have ideas for it, even though the ideas shift vastly from year to year.

I might post the epilogue or the major plot points I had planned for this story in a new chapter, just so you can have some closure. But who knows? I could come back to it too. Anything is possible, I guess.

I just don't want to give anyone false hope.

Know that I love you all, and you are all such a huge part of my life.

Sincerely,

fyeri

(P.S, if you'd like to get in touch, you can reach me via PM, the tcafs tumblr, or fyerigurl (attt) gmail (period) com. I'm also on IG under a different handle.)

(P.P.S. Although, I might be changing my username. Just a heads up. Don't freak out if it changes. "fyerigurl" was me in elementary school trying to remember how to spell "fairy" the Neopets way. I may be joining some other fandoms, writing other fics, so I'll still be around ish.)

(P.P.P.S, honestly the Prince of Tennis is like Tezuka Zone, it keeps sucking me back in. I feel like I'll be in my 80s one day and still like "hey remember that time Tezuka killed the dinosaurs?")

Btw, I still wanna hear what you thought about this chapter tee hee. REVIEW PLS.