A/N: This is a special epilogue one-shot to my newly completed Silver Pair story, Out of Defeat. You don't absolutely need to read that first to understand what this is about, because it's pretty closely tied to canon, but this will probably make more sense if you do.

Thank you again to those of you who read and reviewed Out of Defeat, and encouraged me as I worked on it. I love you all! This is for you, especially for those of you who asked: "What exactly is Oshitari up to?"

Oshitari Yuushi had to allow himself a small smile as he watched Shishido and Otori step onto the court to face Seigaku's Inui and Kaidoh, brimming with confidence.

Admittedly, Oshitari's own tennis career had just hit rather a low point. Beside him on the bench, his friend and doubles partner Gakuto sat and sulked, and if Oshitari had been given to sulking, his expression would have looked much the same.

Actually, he just felt like an idiot. He and Gakuto had drastically underestimated their opponents, so much so that they had almost lost the match by their own stupidity, rather than any special talent of Kikumaru and Momoshiro.

Well, except for maturity. He and Gakuto were sadly lacking in that department.

Would they ever play doubles together again? Sakaki hadn't said anything yet about dropping them as regulars. They knew well enough that it was always a possibility—he and Gakuto had gotten their regular spots as second years, replacing a pair of regulars dropped in the second round of Kantou. But rules had already been bent once, for Shishido, and maybe that was a sign of hope for him and Gakuto.

There was no way that a team with constantly changing members would do well at the nationals, after all. Not that it was even Hyoutei's biggest problem.

After all his theorizing and speculation, when it came down to it, Oshitari didn't think he had what it took to play a good game of tennis. He had never been able to throw himself into a game without holding back. It wasn't his style.

But that was what Hyoutei needed, wasn't it? He knew that, and he still couldn't carry through.

That would be Shishido's job.

Or so he hoped. He had seen it first, hadn't he?

"I think you're wrong."

Oshitari was the only who could get away with saying such a thing to Atobe, and in return receive no more anger than the quirk of an eyebrow.

"Oh, really?" Atobe said. "You think he deserved to be a regular?"

"I think he has potential," Oshitari said. "You don't? You think Sakaki made a mistake with Shishido?"

"He's not an especially gifted player," Atobe said. "He doesn't have the natural ability. His Rising Shot is good, but not excellent. His speed is good, but not good enough. He has no special moves, or deceptive abilities. And besides, he's arrogant, overconfident, and vain."

"But other than that…" Oshitari laughed. "No, I still think you're wrong. I've been in his class this year. Everything you said is true, but there's something more to Shishido Ryou."

"Oh, not your 'missing ingredient' again," Atobe groaned. "He's useless, that's all there is to it. Come up with a better argument than 'Oh, no, Atobe, I think you're wrong' and I might listen to you. But you're wasting your breath. He's already off the regulars. Let's hope this second year, Otori, has more potential."

Oshitari might have only encouraged Shishido to stay in the club because he hated being wrong, or because he liked flouting tradition.

But afterwards, he would tell himself that he had seen something hidden there all along, and Atobe would believe him.

Why wasn't Hyoutei's tennis team better? The question had come to obsess Oshitari, almost more than tennis itself. What did Rikkaidai, for example, have that they didn't? Oh, of course, in recent years there had been the 'Three Demons', and no one could compete with them, but as long as anyone could remember, Hyoutei had been a runner up for the Kantou Tournament, an early loser in the Nationals.

They had talent. They worked hard. They had good facilities, a good (if intimidating) coach, and a huge pool of players to choose from. And now, they had a captain who was surely one of the best in Japan.

But Hyoutei lost. They lost in stupid ways.

Oshitari had always rather liked Shishido. He was a bit of an idiot, and his short temper could be somewhat trying, but he was a good person at heart, if only he would let himself be.

Shishido had always been a distant, standoffish sort of person. Oshitari had never know whether it was because of shyness or vanity, or some combination of them both. When Shishido began to show concern for Otori, to spend time with him, and even to spy on their practice doubles matches, Oshitari saw something come to life in his eyes. It had been there before, hidden behind anger and despair and frustration, but Otori brought it out.

"Let's try an experiment," Oshitari suggested, when Shishido saw Otori struggling in his partnership with Taki. "Maybe Otori would do better with a different doubles partner. We'll play a practice game—you and me versus Otori and Gakuto."

"All right," Shishido agreed, looking doubtful.

The truth was that Oshitari had never expected Gakuto and Otori to make a successful doubles team. Both of them were better suited for net play, and neither of them were gamemakers. Besides, he intended to keep playing with Gakuto himself.

But the match gave him a chance to watch Shishido play, and confirmed something that he had always suspected.

Shishido was a natural doubles talent. He was also the perfect partner for Otori, or he would be, if his reflexes were a bit better. It was too bad they hadn't realized it earlier, before Shishido had lost that game to Tachibana.

Shishido's chapter at Hyoutei should have been closed. Oshitari didn't know any way around it, but he couldn't resist prodding him, examining his personality, trying to understand him.

"Why are you being such a jerk to him, Yuushi?" Gakuto demanded after one especially tense moment. "He's probably going to be really pissy now."

"Sorry, Gakuto," Oshitari said. "But I want to see what will happen."

"Don't give yourself airs," Gakuto said. "They can work things out without help from you."

"Yes, well, it's much more entertaining this way," Oshitari said.

The next day, he told Atobe that Shishido was interesting.

"Him?" Atobe scoffed. "I doubt it." But Oshitari saw the spark in his eyes that meant he would go and find out for himself. And he would agree, although he might never admit it.

"Otori and Taki might have won that match against St. Rudolph," Atobe said. "But they'll never make a decent doubles pair. They aren't capable of working together. I don't know what to do about it. They haven't lost, so I can't by rights drop them from the team. Jirou and Kabaji aren't really capable of working with a partner, either. I could add in an eighth member to the team, but if that doesn't work out, we'll be stuck with even more dead weight."

"What about Shishido?" Oshitari suggested. "He and Otori are training right now."

"Impossible," Atobe said.

"Do you care that much about the rules?"

Atobe sniffed.

"I make the rules," he said. "Let me play a match with him."

"Good."

"I don't even understand what you're after with all this, Yuushi. What is Shishido to you?"

"I want Hyoutei to be strong. The same as you."

Atobe smirked.

"Fine," Oshitari admitted. "I want to find out what will make Hyoutei strong. I think Shishido might have it. I just don't exactly know what it is yet."

"If Shishido is going to make it back on the regulars, he'll have to do it with his own strength," Atobe said bluntly. "You've done enough. Butt out."

"All right," Oshitari said. "I'll leave it to you."

Yes, Oshitari thought, watching Otori and Shishido claim point after point from the Seigaku pair. They had what the rest of Hyoutei was missing, and now that he himself had lost and was watching them triumph, he understood what it was.

They had the will to win. They didn't play to look good, or to toy with their opponents, or for pride, or because they were afraid to lose. They didn't play because Atobe wanted them to.

They played to win, and that was all. And so, after Oshitari had lost, they won to the exuberant shouts of Hyoutei's tennis club.

They stood in front of Coach Sakaki, sweating and panting, close enough so that Oshitari could hear the words that passed between them. They waited, and listened nervously as he advised them on their form.

"That is all," he said.

"Thank you very much!" Otori said, as they bowed.

"Shishido," Sakaki said, before they could leave. "Was that a satisfying game for you?"

Shishido stared up at him, blinking under the sweat that poured down his face.

"No," he said at last.

"Then try to be satisfied with the next match that you play."

Oshitari had to smile at that. Shishido wasn't the type of person ever to be satisfied.

"Good job," Sakaki said. "You can go now."

Shishido nodded, looking surprised. Oshitari wondered if he had ever been complimented on his tennis before.

"We should cool down, Shishido-san," Otori said, tugging at his partner's arm.

Oshitari watched them go. He sat there, watching the singles matches and feeling strangely numb.

Seigaku had it, what they were missing.

That was why only Shishido and Otori, and then Atobe won their matches.

Once again, Hyoutei lost. Oshitari found himself trembling, ever so slightly.

He was not a passionate person. Until now, he had never wanted to be. But watching them, he wanted to feel that drive towards victory, at least a little bit.

After the match was over, they gathered at Oshitari's house. By rights, Atobe's mansion should have been the meeting place, but since Gakuto was always at Oshitari's house, and Shishido and Otori came over a lot, and Atobe was known to come by on occasion, and Kabaji followed Atobe everywhere, and Jirou usually did too…

Well, he was going to make then help with the clean up this time. Not that they really felt like eating.

Oshitari studied their faces, frustrated, disappointed, confused. Even Atobe, who had won in a tiebreaker against Tezuka, looked unsatisfied. This was supposed to be such a good year for them, but they had lost in the first round of the Kantou Tournament, which they had only gotten in to by playing a consolation match in the first place. No Nationals for them, this year.

And there had been no word on who was going to stay on the team and who was going to be dropped.

If they went by the rules—or traditions—Jirou and Hiyoshi should be off the team. Oshitari and Gakuto should be either dropped, or broken up as a team. If they were all dropped, that would leave only half a team.

Atobe snapped his fingers, and for once, there was silence without grumbling.

"I have spoken to Coach Sakaki," he said. "And I have news for you."

Seven pairs of eyes focused intently on him, and he smiled.

"The people who are going to be dropped from the regulars are…"

Nobody breathed.

"None of us," Atobe finished.

"Atobe!" Shishido growled. "That was just cruel."

Atobe ignored him.

"I've decided," he said, looking directly at Oshitari. "We haven't been successful the way we are. I'm not satisfied! And so, we're going to build a team. All of you are permanent regulars, until November. Even if one of us loses, we will remain on the team. We're going to move forward together, whatever it takes, however we can."

He stared at each of them in turn.

"Don't think that this means slacking will be permitted. We may not be going to Nationals, but I want all of you to give your best efforts. Is that clear?"

They all nodded, more than a little stunned.

Oshitari hoped that it wasn't too late for them all already. Shishido and Otori had shown them the way. Atobe was willing to lead them there. They, who had always been confident in their superiority, had a long way to go.

Besides, wasn't the National Tournament scheduled to be in Tokyo this year? He would have to look into it…