Author's note: I've been feeling like I need a break from Prince of Tennis. So yeah, I've been hanging around the Kuroko no Basuke fandom lately. Basically, I ditched a fandom about gay pretty boys playing sport for… a fandom about gay pretty boys playing sport. Yay me?

In any case, I'm back, but I'm still sick of RyoSaku. I thought I'd use this chapter to develop Sanada and Asakura instead. Sorry in advance to all the RyoSaku fans. There is still some interaction here, though. I hope you can appreciate that there is more to this story than just romance.

Chapter 21 – It's all in the head

Asakura Mio yawned and stretched on the sofa.

"Hey, dad," she said. "Pass the chips."

Her eyes were glued to the television in front of her. During her stay in Tokyo, Asakura Mio had rented out a hotel room with her father and the living area, much like its counterpart in Kanagawa, was an absolute pigsty. A bomb shell could have exploded in the area and the level of mess would have been comparable.

A grizzled-haired man in his forties grunted next to her. He seemed remarkably lean and fit for his age, though like Asakura, he slouched languidly on the couch. His eyes flickered towards the dressing table, where empty soda cans and chip packets lay stacked against each other like the pattern of an intricate mosaic.

"Mio," he said, clearing his throat. "Aren't you on a diet? You can't afford to get out of shape."

"Dad, you're an asshole," Asakura said casually. "Saying that while scoffing down all the chips yourself."

There was a rustling sound as Asakura's father lazily chucked away another empty chip packet. He munched away at the last chips and laughed.

"Hey, you see that home run?" he said suddenly, inclining his head towards the television. The two of them were watching the baseball together.

"The Hanshin Tigers are on fire today," Asakura remarked, grinning. She flexed her arms. "Makes me feel like hitting up with a baseball bat myself. When this match is over, let's go to the batting centre, dad."

"Don't you have a tennis tournament to play?"

Asakura was somewhat taken aback, though she quickly recovered. "Oh, right, yeah. Forgot about that."

At that moment, the Hanshin Tigers scored another home run, the crowd erupted into cheers, and someone knocked on the door.

"Huh? Whozat?" said Asakura, reacting about ten seconds too late. The person at the door was still hammering persistently away.

Her father made his way over to the door and opened it. "It's a boy," he called out. "Says he wants to talk to you."

Before Asakura could say anything to that, Sanada stomped into the room.

He grabbed Asakura by the shirt and brought her face up against his so that he could glare at her.

"Stop slacking off!" he said tersely. "Have you forgotten we have practice together?"

"My bad," said Asakura.

"Don't think you can get away with such a loose apology," Sanada said disdainfully. "On your feet, you lout."

Asakura marvelled vaguely to her partner's choice in words; did people these days even say 'lout' anymore?

"Excuse me," Asakura heard her father interject. "Is there a problem here?"

Sanada apologised politely to him. He even bowed.

"You sure respect your elders, huh, Genny?" Asakura commented, holding her hands behind her head. Sanada swung his gaze venomously towards her.

"I don't want to hear anything from you," he snapped. "Just get your racquet and let's go."

"Sure, sure." Asakura yawned. "See ya later, dad."

A few words about Sanada Genichirou:

He was brought up in a traditional Japanese family and learned kendo before tennis. As a child (if it is possible to imagine Sanada as a child) he was punished physically and severely if he ever put a foot wrong. Sanada did not believe himself to be traumatised by this in the slightest. In fact, he believed wholeheartedly that this was the proper way to bring up children.

Asakura Mio would receive no unfair treatment.

As soon as they were alone, he slapped her and told her to start running laps around the tennis court. Only after he felt that she was sufficiently punished would he begin to practise with her.

Asakura held her stinging red face and merely blinked.

"Go on," Sanada told her sternly. "Begin."

"Wait," Asakura mumbled. "I need to stretch first."

"Go."

Asakura peered at him for a moment blankly. Then she said, "Well, okay, but I don't reckon-"

Sanada slapped her again. Asakura started to run.

"Aren't you being a little unfair?" Jackal said behind him. "She's a girl, Sanada."

"I don't care whether she's a girl or not," Sanada answered shortly. "She's a player. She's from Rikkai. She needs to hold herself accordingly."

He had been rather disgusted by the state of Asakura's living conditions. This was a girl without any dignity. She might have talent (Sanada would not deny a person that) but he couldn't reconcile himself with anything else about her. He had expectations and Asakura did not live up to them. It was as simple as that.

At length, Asakura returned to him. Her expression was still blank. "Are we starting now, Genny?" she asked.

"Not yet," said Sanada. "I want to talk to you."

"Huh." Asakura shrugged. "Go ahead."

Sanada peered at her. Since slapping her, he had perceived a subtle shift in Asakura's attitude towards him. Her nonchalance seemed almost defiant to him.

"I have a problem with your attitude," he said.

"Oh, okay," she said. "That it?"

Sanada did not reply for a moment as he mentally framed his response. Asakura was a thousand kinds of frustrating, but surely she understood the same things he did.

"We are Rikkai," he said. "We play to win, not for you to fool around."

She laughed. "Don't get your knickers in a knot, Genny. I'm not gonna let you down."

He thought about their last match together. Perhaps her synergy theory was right; they had certainly played well together. The question was whether that whimsical disposition of hers was enough to carry them through to the finals.

He turned away with a grunt.

"If you're going to talk nonsense, then we may as well just play."

They played a practice match against Marui and Jackal. Asakura took a while to settle into her play, but even so, they ended up losing 6-3. Asakura was completely unable to return any of Marui's cord shots. She laughed whenever she failed to return a shot and took the defeat philosophically.

"Sorry, Genny," Asakura said, grinning. "Looks like I still need to improve."

"Then do so," Sanada told her sharply. "That's what's wrong with your attitude."

Asakura stopped. Her racquet lay loosely in her hand. She did not look up.

Sanada held her by the shoulders and forced her to look him in the eyes. "Is tennis just a game to you, Asakura?"

"Well, yeah," said Asakura, blinking. "It is a game."

"Thinking like that is what will let us down."

Asakura looked at him. Her expression was still carefully nonchalant and blank. But slowly, her lips turned upwards into a smile. It wasn't one of her usual carefree smiles.

"I know," she said, and that was her entire reaction.

"…Well?" Sanada pressed her. His hands were still clamped on her shoulders and his gaze was still boring into hers. It must have been uncomfortable for her, being held to the spot like that, but she did not look away. She was still smiling as if there was a weight tugging on the edges of her lips. The wind blew, and Sanada felt for a moment that just that small pressure could peel the smile away. There was something measured and steely about her gaze.

Sanada thought to himself: she's not a ditz.

"You know," said Asakura, "I care about winning just as much as you do. Or I did."

"And then what?" Sanada demanded.

And Asakura grinned.

"I took therapy."

"Go out with me," Ryoma said to Sakuno.

"E-Eh?"

It was a very unusual request, especially considering the type of person Ryoma was. Sakuno held the phone closer to her ear, not quite able to believe what she had heard.

"I want to watch Sanada's match," Ryoma said. "Come with me. We should take notes."

Sakuno buried her face in her pillow. Since the end of the match against the Couple Cleaver, talking to Ryoma was kind of awkward. Sakuno knew it wasn't Ryoma's fault, but, well, she was a girl of twelve and these things were embarrassing, darn it.

"You don't have to come if you don't want," Ryoma went on. "I can do it myself."

"N-No! I'll come!" Sakuno squeaked hastily. She then promptly went back to face-planting her pillow.

"Okay, bye," said Ryoma, and then he hung up.

Sakuno stared at the phone. She put it down slowly, gripped her pillow, stared at it for a moment as if trying to imagine someone's face on it, and then started hugging it as if she would never let it go.

In the morning of Sanada and Asakura's quarterfinal match, Sanada set Asakura to work early. He made her run and lift weights and hit balls until her arms felt ready to drop off her shoulders. She had no objections to all the extra practice, though she did shoot a few odd glances in Sanada's direction. "Do you always push yourself this hard?" she asked him after Sanada hit a winner right past her in their warm-up. She bent down to pick up the ball and Sanada merely snorted at her.

"Of course," he said, as if Asakura's question was the most obvious thing he had ever heard.

"Not to be a downer," said Asakura, "but it's not really that healthy. I mean, sure, you look like a thirty-year-old man-"

"I take offence to that," Sanada said stiffly.

"-but you've still got the body of a junior high kid, Genny. Your kind of practice does you more harm than good."

"You have no right to tell me what to do."

Asakura shrugged. "Well, then, you have no right to tell me what to do either."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sanada said sharply.

He waited expectantly for Asakura to hit the ball back to him, but she merely stuffed it into her pocket.

"I think I'm ready," she announced. The match was starting in ten minutes. Much as he hated the idea of it, Sanada had to let her get away with it.

What Asakura did not mention was that she was already tired; Sanada had pushed her too hard. When she trained (and she did this often) she did it in half-hour blocks. Up until she had met Sanada, she had worked according to a schedule. But Asakura considered adapting to new things one of her strengths, so she did not complain about her aching limbs.

They stepped onto the court together. Asakura took one deep breath and then looked up firmly.

"Think you can do it, Genny?" she asked casually, flicking an easy smile in his direction that he did not return. "I won't let you down, man."

"I'll hold you to that promise," Sanada responded. Those were the last words they exchanged before the match started.

In the end, Asakura failed.

They won the match 6-4, but Asakura did not play as well as she could have; she hit a few shots out and she did not defend the important points as strategically as she should have. After each failure, the fire remained in Asakura's eyes. Each point for her started afresh. Each mistake burned against virgin skin.

They won, and in Sanada's eyes, that was the very definition of failure. What was victory if it wasn't total victory?

Their eyes met as they walked off the court. Sanada turned away and after a moment of looking back after him, Asakura's eyes shifted down too. Her mouth trembled and then her teeth grit together. Her fists clenched and her eyebrows furrowed.

They walked off the court without saying anything.

As for Ryoma and Sakuno, who watched the match from the stands, Ryoma said nothing and Sakuno nudged at his shoulder timidly.

"Do you think we can beat them, Ryoma-kun?" she asked him quietly.

Instead of answering her question, Ryoma simply looked at her. "What do you think?" he asked.

Sakuno was taken aback but she did her best to think about it. "I think… I think we could win," she said sheepishly. Her voice rose uncertainly towards the end, seeking confirmation.

In response, Ryoma said, "That girl is mada mada."

"Yeah… I guess so…"

"But she's a good sportsman," Ryoma went on.

"Ryoma-kun…?"

Ryoma stood up. "Let's go practise, Ryuzaki."

Asakura did not stay at the stadium long after completing the match. She took the first bus back to her hotel and waited around in the lobby for her father to come back. When he did return, they went up to their room together, and Asakura did not come out for a long while.

For his part, Sanada remained with his team mates. They were happy for him; he and his partner had made it to the semi-finals. Sanada did not want to talk about the match. He simply stood with the other Rikkai regulars with his arms folded and a scowl planted across his face. He didn't want to talk full stop.

"But I'm impressed, Genichirou," Yukimura said to him later, as they were walking to their own hotel together. "That you would come so far with a doubles partner you barely know is quite a feat."

Sanada merely grunted dourly in response. Yukimura watched him and his mouth curled up into a smile.

"You told her to work harder for your sake, didn't you? And she did. Your attitudes don't mix, but she tried to see things your way."

"Result and effort are not always the same."

"Yanagi." Yukimura turned to their squinty-eyed, brown-haired team mate. "You looked up her data." It was not a question.

"I did." Yanagi nodded. "Turns out as a first year, she led the volleyball team to Nationals. Then she failed in her second year and was quiet after that. This year, she won again."

Sanada said nothing to that.

"Her special ability," Yanagi went on, "is her mental game. Just by having fun, she's able to use what we call the Muga no Kyōchi. In volleyball, she calls it the Flow. She can also synchronise with almost any partner in a team game. The reason for that is probably because her father is a sport psychologist."

Sanada recalled Asakura's unwillingness to give up and her complete faith in teamwork. Even when she was not playing well physically, she never let herself fall into destructive mental habits. She simply picked herself up and went on playing with a smile on her face.

What tomfoolery, he thought.

"A sport psychologist?" Sanada repeated.

"Yeah, he also coaches," Yanagi explained. "A bunch of elite sportsmen are referred to him for therapy."

… therapy?

Sanada remembered something Asakura had said to him, and at that moment, it felt as if a chill went down his spine, suddenly and disarmingly.

"There is somewhere I must go," he said shortly. "I will be finished shortly. Go on without me."

He had turned his back on his team mates as he said that; he did not see them smile.

Asakura's father opened the door for him when he knocked. He peered at Sanada solemnly, as if the boy had intruded upon a shamanistic ritual he would never understand. But he smiled politely enough and asked Sanada what he wanted.

"I wish to speak to your daughter," Sanada announced.

"She's meditating right now," Asakura's father explained. "Could you come back later?"

Sanada craned his neck slightly. He could see over Mr. Asakura's shoulder that his daughter was sitting cross-legged on a mat on the floor. It was the only clean part of the room. Her eyes were closed serenely and her body held itself with a kind of poise Sanada had never witnessed from her.

He couldn't help but think of how strange she looked to him. At the same time, it suited her more than he cared to admit. There was something elegant about the way she meditated and the utter calmness that came with it.

"You're a sport psychologist, aren't you?" Sanada asked her father pointedly.

"Yes," Asakura's father replied simply. "That's my job."

"Tell me," said Sanada. "What did Asakura need therapy for?"

Asakura's father only smiled. "You've got the wrong idea about sport psychology. It's not about fixing problems straight away; it's about building mental skills for life. It takes a long time for the results to show. But as for Mio, she's been doing this meditation therapy for a year now."

Sanada turned away slightly. Now that he had come this far, he was no longer quite as sure what he had really wanted to ask. All he could think was that there was more to Asakura's frustrating attitude than he had first realised.

"It took her a year to develop this strength," Asakura's father went on. "She's very adept at it now. She can will herself to relax at any time, no matter what the circumstance. I call it Total Relaxation Therapy."

Sanada said nothing. Asakura's father continued:

"You might not realise it, but Mio is a very talented girl at sports. You may not be able to see it in her tennis because that's not her primary sport, but her strength at volleyball is comparable to your captain Yukimura's strength in tennis. Until her second year at middle school, she never lost a game. But a year ago, she suffered her first defeat at Nationals and it got to her. After her winning streak ended, her losing streak began. She had to teach herself how to relax. That's why she took therapy."

"I see," said Sanada. The chill was back. For a sudden, searing moment he wondered what was going to happen to Yukimura, to himself, to the entire team. Rikkai had lost its crown this year; their reign was over. Asakura did know how it felt after all. It was something he had not had much opportunity to dwell upon because of the recent tournament, but he would never forget the utter stain of defeat and how it felt as it smeared all over his name, his face and his entire being.

"I see," Sanada said again, his tone completely even. And then he said, "Thank you."

Perhaps he didn't need to tell Asakura to push herself. She already knew what needed to be done. She knew how to win, how to hold the crown, how to stand above all others.

She was a Rikkai student, after all.

Next chapter: It's back to Ryoma and Sakuno for the next chapter, and we finally uncover the identity of the person who stopped the purse thief in chapter 16.

Author's note: One of the limitations of the written medium is not being able to visually represent the over-the-top moves in PoT. On the other hand, one of the great parts about writing is that you get to focus more on psychology and what goes on inside people's heads. In all the matches I've written for this story, I've tried to focus equally (if not more) on the mental side of the game. As they say, sport is 50 percent physical and 90 percent mental.

Omake:

Asakura woke from her trance about thirty minutes later. She promptly started looking around for soda, only to have her father place a restraining hand on her arm and shake his head.

"Darn it. I got caught," Asakura said, laughing.

Her father laughed along with her. "By the way," he said to her, "your friend Sanada-kun dropped by. He said he was just in the area."

While Asakura considered Sanada her friend, she was not quite sure that term was correct. She kind of doubted that Sanada thought likewise of her. Oh well.

"Hey, wait a minute," she said suddenly. "Isn't his hotel in the complete opposite direction?"

"Hmmm, it is, isn't it?"

"I knew it," said Asakura sagaciously, as if she had just figured out the meaning of life and the universe. "Genny is a tsundere."