[begerow]
A PROMISING SAPLING
by thephoenixboy
Yamato should have been upset when Seigaku’s high school team were knocked out of the tournament in the first round of Kantou regionals.
As it was, he was sympathetic with his seniors, quickly claimed a place on the new regular squad and accepted the half-expected vice captaincy, picking up his own training with a determination to go further than he‘d ever managed before.
So it was that he found himself tucked into a seat in the back of the stands behind the massed ranks of Hyotei cheerleaders as they faced off against Rikkai in the finals of the Kantou tournament. It was hot and uncomfortable and the humidity pressed down on him but the atmosphere was more than worth it.
It was a long anticipated match - Hyotei were the strongest school in Tokyo by some margin and yet hadn’t won in Kantou in over ten years. The two teams’ captains were ranked in the top five juniors nationally and as a result there were scouts there from all over the country, both pro level and from the schools that expected to face them at Nationals.
So far, Rikkai’s traditional dominance in doubles had continued. They took both of the first matches by a clear margin. Hyotei had fought back with a solid win in Singles 3 and Singles 2 looked like it would be a close fought battle.
When his mobile buzzed in his pocket, he had to force himself to tear his attention away from the game to check it. A message from Fuji-kun, who should by all rights have been busy playing in his own match. He wasn’t even going to bother worrying how the boy had obtained his number.
Rikkai are about to take their first loss of the year.
Well, that wasn’t entirely unexpected. Both Fuji and Tezuka were very strong players, despite only being in their second year of junior high, and should have been capable of holding their own even against the national champions. Still, for Fuji to be taking the time to text him. . .
What’s the score?
The response was near immediate.
They took both doubles. 0-0 in S3. If you want to watch, you’ll have to hurry - Tezuka’s not happy.
Yamato considered the possible implications of this and hurried to extract himself from the crowd. The junior high competition was happening on the same site, so it would be possible to make it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Tezuka angry before, other than the day when he’d been injured, so he didn’t know exactly how that could come across in a tennis match - Tezuka wasn’t the sort to try to injure his opponent - but if it meant him going all out, it would be a treat to watch.
As he neared the court, he noticed others hurrying to make their way over. A Rikkai match always attracted attention but discovering an opponent who could match them was probably the excitement of the day.
Slightly out of breath, he came to a halt behind the fence boxing in the stands. No one would mind if he came down, he was sure, but it would be awkward for the new captain to have his predecessor breathing down his neck and, even with Tezuka-kun picking up most of the weight, this match was sure to be stressful.
He looked down at the court, seeing the familiar backs of the Seigaku players as the regulars led the cheering below him. Opposite them, the Rikkai front bench was strangely quiet, though they didn’t look as distressed as the massed ranks of non-regulars behind them. On the contrary, the three second years who were acknowledged as the core of the team seemed to be not upset but positively fuming. He had no doubt that, after their nationals victory last year, they had been planning to make it completely undefeated this year, or something equally ambitious.
“Yamato-buchou,” Fuji said, leaving the court with his racket tucked under one arm.
“How is it?” Yamato asked, trying to keep his concern from his voice as he moved to look at the match. It hadn’t been so long since Tezuka was injured and if he was going all out there was a possibility of him overstraining himself.
“Tezuka’s 3 games to 0 up, as we expect from him. Well, you and I expect it but I don’t think Tsuta-buchou did. When Tezuka took the first game he gaped and spluttered a bit and sent me off to warm up. I doubt that I’ll be playing, though. I’m down as Singles 1 but there’s no way we’re going to take Singles 2 off Sanada.”
Yamato blinked a couple of times as he watched Tezuka serve an ace past an opponent who seemed to be shocked motionless.
“Fuji-kun, Tezuka’s playing with his right hand.”
Fuji’s face was unusually serious, the smile strangely absent.
“Mm. He’s been playing like that from the start. I think the others think he’s angry about what Rikkai’s Domoto said about Oishi and Eiji when he switched with the Doubles 1 pair but he had a tough match this morning as well, so it could be his elbow again. I don‘t think we could have stopped him playing, even if we’d known for sure that it’s his arm that‘s bothering him. He had that look - the one where you know he isn’t seeing anyone but the opponent.”
Tezuka was something of a force of nature when he was resolved on a course of action. Yamato had stood against him once - when Tezuka had decided to quit the tennis club - but it had taken all of the guile he’d developed as a captain (and what had come naturally) to weave a net of words that Tezuka couldn’t escape from. Kids like Oishi and Inui didn’t stand a chance.
“What did Domoto say?” Yamato asked, half dreading the answer. If it was bad enough to upset Tezuka and Fuji both, two of the more level-headed members of the team, it must have been bad.
“He very loudly scolded Nishiki and Yanagi for dropping two games in Doubles 1 and even taking half an hour to finish off such a weak pair from a no-name school. I suppose the rest of his team did try to keep him quiet but . . .” Fuji shrugged and they turned back to watch the game in silence. From the look on Fuji’s face, Rikkai’s team was very lucky that the game was unlikely to reach Singles 1.
It made sense to Yamato that it had been an insult not to Tezuka but to his friends and his team, certainly more sense than some of the ideas that had been racing around Yamato’s mind since he had received the text. He had seen Tezuka take insult and injury to himself with no outward reaction but if it was Oishi who was targeted, the result was quite different.
Whatever his feelings, the match was in progress and there was nothing he could do, so Yamato allowed himself to wait and watch the game develop. Rikkai’s player was good, as expected of a National level team, and in order to dominate him to this extent, Tezuka’s game had been raised far beyond any level Yamato had previously witnessed in him. Standing watching, Yamato couldn’t help but wonder why Tezuka came to him for advice and not some professional coach.
Slowly, calmly, Tezuka pressured his opponent, never missing a chance ball, never hitting a weak return, with a consistency that spoke of still greater skill hidden away. A sloppy drop shot gave Tezuka the opportunity to step in and return one of his own tight over the net.
The ball hit the ground once, spun in place and rolled back into the net, leaving Domoto sprawled out on the court. The crowd burst into excited whispers; the three so-called ‘demons’ on Rikkai’s bench looked on stony faced.
“A zero-shiki drop,” Fuji breathed, eyes wide, fingers tangled in the netting. “Tezuka.”
“Game and set, won by Seigaku’s Tezuka,” came the call from the side. “Six games to love.”
“Did he even take one point?” Yamato asked, incredulous.
“A couple in the first service game,” Fuji said, not even bothering to hide his satisfaction. “Tezuka was too busy watching the doubles matches to go and warm up so he took it easy for the first few points.”
Tezuka shook his opponent’s hand with his customary politeness and strode back to the Seigaku bench without a second glance. Yamato smiled as Tezuka froze when mobbed by Kikumaru, holding still until Oishi and Inui managed to pry him off.
Fuji giggled, “That’s not the way to way to handle Eiji. Saa, I’d better go down or they’ll be wondering what’s happened to me. Will you be around afterwards?”
“Aa. I want to talk to Tezuka about that match.”
He watched stoically as Fuji’s prediction came true and Sanada demonstrated his overwhelming strength in Singles 2, receiving only a curt nod from Yukimura as reward for his efforts in taking the match.
Reactions on the Seigaku side were mixed. They had lost and more than a few of them looked a little tearful at the end of their golden run. At the same time, they had managed what no other team had managed this year and made Rikkai drop a set. That alone should have been cause for celebration, particularly since they still had the Nationals to play.
When Tezuka came out of the court, he paused at the sight of his former captain lounging against a tree in street clothes.
“Yamato-buchou,” he said, bowing slightly.
“Senpai,” Yamato corrected gently as he pushed himself upright, secretly pleased that Tezuka still thought of him that way. “It was an interesting game you played there.”
Tezuka stiffened slightly, his fingers white as they clutched the strap to his racket bag, though his eyes remained fixed on Yamato’s.
“I played the best I could,” he said at last, his voice steady although even to Yamato’s ears it sounded like an excuse.
“Right handed, hm? I thought we agreed you weren’t going to do that any more?”
“My elbow’s been aching since the match this morning,” Tezuka said. In his attitude, he seemed to Yamato almost like a soldier reporting in to his general. There didn’t seem to be even a thought of dissembling. “I felt it would be unwise to put any pressure on it.”
“Is that so,” Yamato said, allowing him to suffer a little longer. Then he smiled and reached out to put a hand on Tezuka‘s shoulder, noticing that it wasn‘t as far down as it had once been. “You played well, Tezuka-kun. Let’s have a look at that arm, then.”
At the light touch and the encouraging words, the practically unseen tension vanished and Yamato glimpsed the slight quirk of the lips as Tezuka permitted himself a moment of satisfaction over a game well played. Beckoning a second year non-regular over - someone who still recognised him - Yamato sent them for the first aid kit. While he was no doctor, he’d done his first aid training and then visited Tezuka’s doctor specifically to learn what he could do to help.
“I was expecting Fuji in Singles 2.”
“Yukimura is much stronger than Sanada - Fuji was the only one with a chance against him. Fuji needs to play stronger opponents if he is going to improve.”
“You were hoping for a win in doubles?”
“Oishi and Kikumaru are very strong. Perhaps they should have played Doubles 2.”
“You’ll have a strong team next year. You four and Inui-kun are all improving fast.”
He was tying a support when he felt Tezuka’s attention drift.
“Yukimura-kun, Sanada-kun,” he said, unable to bow in his current position. Yamato paused and turned to watch the ensuing confrontation. He had seen Yukimura play once and was still trying to work out exactly how so much force could be concealed in that small body. Sanada, now a silent shadow at Yukimura’s shoulder, had a strength that was more obvious.
“Tezuka,” Yukimura acknowledged. His face was equally calm and Yamato wondered absently whether it was something they had been taught at their tennis schools when they were younger. “As vice captain, I’d like to apologise for our player’s rudeness.”
Tezuka was suddenly very still. Yamato shifted marginally closer. He couldn’t step in - this was no longer his fight - but he was still there if he was needed.
“It is not me that was insulted.”
“Your doubles pair left before I had a chance to speak to them. They’re going to be interesting when they have more experience and that‘s also the opinion of our doubles specialists.”
“I’ll pass on the message.”
Yukimura inclined his head slightly as the tension eased somewhat.
“I’m sorry, are you injured?”
“An old injury. I think I aggravated it this morning.”
He smiled and Yamato felt himself relaxing as well. Now he knew for sure that at least some of Rikkai were familiar with Tezuka’s play.
“Unfortunate. We’ll see you at the Nationals then. I‘ve been waiting for another match with you.”
“Aa.”
Yamato wondered if he’d be able to persuade Tezuka to tell him about that match because there was certainly a history there.
Yukimura paused for a moment, then turned and joined the rest of his team as they left, Tezuka’s eyes on his back.
“Well, you’ve kept your promise to me, Tezuka-kun,” Yamato said softly, calling Tezuka’s attention back to him. Tezuka blinked in momentary confusion. “You’re taking Seigaku to the Nationals.”
“Aa.”
“How about you make another one, then?” he asked, his smile wryly amused at the thought that Tezuka had fulfilled his dream already. “Play in the National finals before you graduate.”
Tezuka’s eyes followed Yukimura’s yellow uniform as he turned the corner and moved out of sight.
“Rikkai in the National finals. That will be the target,” he said. Yamato was unable to keep his mouth from twitching upwards, a smile spreading across his face because Tezuka never made promises that he didn’t think he could keep.
The teams at Nationals didn’t know what was about to hit them.
by thephoenixboy
Yamato should have been upset when Seigaku’s high school team were knocked out of the tournament in the first round of Kantou regionals.
As it was, he was sympathetic with his seniors, quickly claimed a place on the new regular squad and accepted the half-expected vice captaincy, picking up his own training with a determination to go further than he‘d ever managed before.
So it was that he found himself tucked into a seat in the back of the stands behind the massed ranks of Hyotei cheerleaders as they faced off against Rikkai in the finals of the Kantou tournament. It was hot and uncomfortable and the humidity pressed down on him but the atmosphere was more than worth it.
It was a long anticipated match - Hyotei were the strongest school in Tokyo by some margin and yet hadn’t won in Kantou in over ten years. The two teams’ captains were ranked in the top five juniors nationally and as a result there were scouts there from all over the country, both pro level and from the schools that expected to face them at Nationals.
So far, Rikkai’s traditional dominance in doubles had continued. They took both of the first matches by a clear margin. Hyotei had fought back with a solid win in Singles 3 and Singles 2 looked like it would be a close fought battle.
When his mobile buzzed in his pocket, he had to force himself to tear his attention away from the game to check it. A message from Fuji-kun, who should by all rights have been busy playing in his own match. He wasn’t even going to bother worrying how the boy had obtained his number.
Rikkai are about to take their first loss of the year.
Well, that wasn’t entirely unexpected. Both Fuji and Tezuka were very strong players, despite only being in their second year of junior high, and should have been capable of holding their own even against the national champions. Still, for Fuji to be taking the time to text him. . .
What’s the score?
The response was near immediate.
They took both doubles. 0-0 in S3. If you want to watch, you’ll have to hurry - Tezuka’s not happy.
Yamato considered the possible implications of this and hurried to extract himself from the crowd. The junior high competition was happening on the same site, so it would be possible to make it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Tezuka angry before, other than the day when he’d been injured, so he didn’t know exactly how that could come across in a tennis match - Tezuka wasn’t the sort to try to injure his opponent - but if it meant him going all out, it would be a treat to watch.
As he neared the court, he noticed others hurrying to make their way over. A Rikkai match always attracted attention but discovering an opponent who could match them was probably the excitement of the day.
Slightly out of breath, he came to a halt behind the fence boxing in the stands. No one would mind if he came down, he was sure, but it would be awkward for the new captain to have his predecessor breathing down his neck and, even with Tezuka-kun picking up most of the weight, this match was sure to be stressful.
He looked down at the court, seeing the familiar backs of the Seigaku players as the regulars led the cheering below him. Opposite them, the Rikkai front bench was strangely quiet, though they didn’t look as distressed as the massed ranks of non-regulars behind them. On the contrary, the three second years who were acknowledged as the core of the team seemed to be not upset but positively fuming. He had no doubt that, after their nationals victory last year, they had been planning to make it completely undefeated this year, or something equally ambitious.
“Yamato-buchou,” Fuji said, leaving the court with his racket tucked under one arm.
“How is it?” Yamato asked, trying to keep his concern from his voice as he moved to look at the match. It hadn’t been so long since Tezuka was injured and if he was going all out there was a possibility of him overstraining himself.
“Tezuka’s 3 games to 0 up, as we expect from him. Well, you and I expect it but I don’t think Tsuta-buchou did. When Tezuka took the first game he gaped and spluttered a bit and sent me off to warm up. I doubt that I’ll be playing, though. I’m down as Singles 1 but there’s no way we’re going to take Singles 2 off Sanada.”
Yamato blinked a couple of times as he watched Tezuka serve an ace past an opponent who seemed to be shocked motionless.
“Fuji-kun, Tezuka’s playing with his right hand.”
Fuji’s face was unusually serious, the smile strangely absent.
“Mm. He’s been playing like that from the start. I think the others think he’s angry about what Rikkai’s Domoto said about Oishi and Eiji when he switched with the Doubles 1 pair but he had a tough match this morning as well, so it could be his elbow again. I don‘t think we could have stopped him playing, even if we’d known for sure that it’s his arm that‘s bothering him. He had that look - the one where you know he isn’t seeing anyone but the opponent.”
Tezuka was something of a force of nature when he was resolved on a course of action. Yamato had stood against him once - when Tezuka had decided to quit the tennis club - but it had taken all of the guile he’d developed as a captain (and what had come naturally) to weave a net of words that Tezuka couldn’t escape from. Kids like Oishi and Inui didn’t stand a chance.
“What did Domoto say?” Yamato asked, half dreading the answer. If it was bad enough to upset Tezuka and Fuji both, two of the more level-headed members of the team, it must have been bad.
“He very loudly scolded Nishiki and Yanagi for dropping two games in Doubles 1 and even taking half an hour to finish off such a weak pair from a no-name school. I suppose the rest of his team did try to keep him quiet but . . .” Fuji shrugged and they turned back to watch the game in silence. From the look on Fuji’s face, Rikkai’s team was very lucky that the game was unlikely to reach Singles 1.
It made sense to Yamato that it had been an insult not to Tezuka but to his friends and his team, certainly more sense than some of the ideas that had been racing around Yamato’s mind since he had received the text. He had seen Tezuka take insult and injury to himself with no outward reaction but if it was Oishi who was targeted, the result was quite different.
Whatever his feelings, the match was in progress and there was nothing he could do, so Yamato allowed himself to wait and watch the game develop. Rikkai’s player was good, as expected of a National level team, and in order to dominate him to this extent, Tezuka’s game had been raised far beyond any level Yamato had previously witnessed in him. Standing watching, Yamato couldn’t help but wonder why Tezuka came to him for advice and not some professional coach.
Slowly, calmly, Tezuka pressured his opponent, never missing a chance ball, never hitting a weak return, with a consistency that spoke of still greater skill hidden away. A sloppy drop shot gave Tezuka the opportunity to step in and return one of his own tight over the net.
The ball hit the ground once, spun in place and rolled back into the net, leaving Domoto sprawled out on the court. The crowd burst into excited whispers; the three so-called ‘demons’ on Rikkai’s bench looked on stony faced.
“A zero-shiki drop,” Fuji breathed, eyes wide, fingers tangled in the netting. “Tezuka.”
“Game and set, won by Seigaku’s Tezuka,” came the call from the side. “Six games to love.”
“Did he even take one point?” Yamato asked, incredulous.
“A couple in the first service game,” Fuji said, not even bothering to hide his satisfaction. “Tezuka was too busy watching the doubles matches to go and warm up so he took it easy for the first few points.”
Tezuka shook his opponent’s hand with his customary politeness and strode back to the Seigaku bench without a second glance. Yamato smiled as Tezuka froze when mobbed by Kikumaru, holding still until Oishi and Inui managed to pry him off.
Fuji giggled, “That’s not the way to way to handle Eiji. Saa, I’d better go down or they’ll be wondering what’s happened to me. Will you be around afterwards?”
“Aa. I want to talk to Tezuka about that match.”
He watched stoically as Fuji’s prediction came true and Sanada demonstrated his overwhelming strength in Singles 2, receiving only a curt nod from Yukimura as reward for his efforts in taking the match.
Reactions on the Seigaku side were mixed. They had lost and more than a few of them looked a little tearful at the end of their golden run. At the same time, they had managed what no other team had managed this year and made Rikkai drop a set. That alone should have been cause for celebration, particularly since they still had the Nationals to play.
When Tezuka came out of the court, he paused at the sight of his former captain lounging against a tree in street clothes.
“Yamato-buchou,” he said, bowing slightly.
“Senpai,” Yamato corrected gently as he pushed himself upright, secretly pleased that Tezuka still thought of him that way. “It was an interesting game you played there.”
Tezuka stiffened slightly, his fingers white as they clutched the strap to his racket bag, though his eyes remained fixed on Yamato’s.
“I played the best I could,” he said at last, his voice steady although even to Yamato’s ears it sounded like an excuse.
“Right handed, hm? I thought we agreed you weren’t going to do that any more?”
“My elbow’s been aching since the match this morning,” Tezuka said. In his attitude, he seemed to Yamato almost like a soldier reporting in to his general. There didn’t seem to be even a thought of dissembling. “I felt it would be unwise to put any pressure on it.”
“Is that so,” Yamato said, allowing him to suffer a little longer. Then he smiled and reached out to put a hand on Tezuka‘s shoulder, noticing that it wasn‘t as far down as it had once been. “You played well, Tezuka-kun. Let’s have a look at that arm, then.”
At the light touch and the encouraging words, the practically unseen tension vanished and Yamato glimpsed the slight quirk of the lips as Tezuka permitted himself a moment of satisfaction over a game well played. Beckoning a second year non-regular over - someone who still recognised him - Yamato sent them for the first aid kit. While he was no doctor, he’d done his first aid training and then visited Tezuka’s doctor specifically to learn what he could do to help.
“I was expecting Fuji in Singles 2.”
“Yukimura is much stronger than Sanada - Fuji was the only one with a chance against him. Fuji needs to play stronger opponents if he is going to improve.”
“You were hoping for a win in doubles?”
“Oishi and Kikumaru are very strong. Perhaps they should have played Doubles 2.”
“You’ll have a strong team next year. You four and Inui-kun are all improving fast.”
He was tying a support when he felt Tezuka’s attention drift.
“Yukimura-kun, Sanada-kun,” he said, unable to bow in his current position. Yamato paused and turned to watch the ensuing confrontation. He had seen Yukimura play once and was still trying to work out exactly how so much force could be concealed in that small body. Sanada, now a silent shadow at Yukimura’s shoulder, had a strength that was more obvious.
“Tezuka,” Yukimura acknowledged. His face was equally calm and Yamato wondered absently whether it was something they had been taught at their tennis schools when they were younger. “As vice captain, I’d like to apologise for our player’s rudeness.”
Tezuka was suddenly very still. Yamato shifted marginally closer. He couldn’t step in - this was no longer his fight - but he was still there if he was needed.
“It is not me that was insulted.”
“Your doubles pair left before I had a chance to speak to them. They’re going to be interesting when they have more experience and that‘s also the opinion of our doubles specialists.”
“I’ll pass on the message.”
Yukimura inclined his head slightly as the tension eased somewhat.
“I’m sorry, are you injured?”
“An old injury. I think I aggravated it this morning.”
He smiled and Yamato felt himself relaxing as well. Now he knew for sure that at least some of Rikkai were familiar with Tezuka’s play.
“Unfortunate. We’ll see you at the Nationals then. I‘ve been waiting for another match with you.”
“Aa.”
Yamato wondered if he’d be able to persuade Tezuka to tell him about that match because there was certainly a history there.
Yukimura paused for a moment, then turned and joined the rest of his team as they left, Tezuka’s eyes on his back.
“Well, you’ve kept your promise to me, Tezuka-kun,” Yamato said softly, calling Tezuka’s attention back to him. Tezuka blinked in momentary confusion. “You’re taking Seigaku to the Nationals.”
“Aa.”
“How about you make another one, then?” he asked, his smile wryly amused at the thought that Tezuka had fulfilled his dream already. “Play in the National finals before you graduate.”
Tezuka’s eyes followed Yukimura’s yellow uniform as he turned the corner and moved out of sight.
“Rikkai in the National finals. That will be the target,” he said. Yamato was unable to keep his mouth from twitching upwards, a smile spreading across his face because Tezuka never made promises that he didn’t think he could keep.
The teams at Nationals didn’t know what was about to hit them.