[moscow]
Title: On and Above
ID: [moscow]
Word count: 9,700
Character(s) or pairing(s): Seigaku ensemble
Echizen Ryoma:
In America they had tryouts: only eight were allowed to join the team and the rest were told to go home and try again next year. Once upon a time Ryoma could have understood this, could have accepted and even supported it.
Seigaku had changed so many things for him.
There, non-regulars practiced and learned and improved. They weren't pushed away and forgotten. Ryoma supposed that was the difference between a team and a club, a house and a home.
Momoshiro Takeshi:
Momo would never say out loud how disappointed he was when the captaincy slipped through his fingers and right into Kaidoh's shocked hands. He had smiled and let it go, laughing it off and offering that stupid Viper his congratulations.
Inside, it hurt.
Outside he was pleased to vice-captain the team and to show the new freshmen what Seigaku was about. He was happy to shirk some responsibility and pleased to hear “Momo-chan-fukubuchou” chorused on court.
Inside it really, really hurt.
Kikumaru Eiji:
High school was strange and uncomfortable at first - like new sneakers or a new racket or toothbrush or someone else's stuffed animal. But high school boys didn't like stuffed animals, didn't like doubles like it was everything and didn't play tennis because it was everything.
Eiji knew he wasn't little anymore. He had to grow up and move on.
He had to stop.
Kawamura Takashi:
Sushi is an art.
As a chef, Takashi always gives his best and always enjoys compliments from the customers. He missed tennis though. Seigaku's new regulars still visited after successful tournaments and Momo and Kaidoh always included him. It wasn't the same though and when they stopped coming as a team Taka's heart clenched.
Fuji, at least, visited every second day.
Tezuka Kunimitsu:
Entering the high school was disturbingly familiar to his first days of junior high, except that no one dared to outright challenge him and there were no further injuries to his now tender left arm.
What really disturbed Tezuka was his name written underneath Yamato-buchou's in the ranking tournament, or the 6-0 their match resulted in.
No one dared to ask how buchou stayed wispy buchou in the same manner they kept from outright challenging Tezuka.
Whenever he felt frustrated with his own captain's lack of fire he thought of good things. Of the past nationals. Of graduating with his friends. Of Echizen, conquering the world.
Inui Sadaharu:
The night before his first day of high school Inui calculated a sixty-seven percent chance that his freshman year of high school with be less exciting than his senior year of junior high. That number jumped to eighty-two point seven percent at the end of the first day.
That number also fell to thirty-three point three-three-three-four percent at the end of the second.
Oishi Syuuichirou:
Oishi had been optimistic about high school: he had been looking forward to playing with the old senpai again and listening to buchou's seemingly pointless lectures. He had managed spots in several advanced classes - Math with Tezuka and Inui, Japanese with Fuji - and he and Eiji had new courts to conquer and new opponents to learn from.
Then everything for everyone went wrong.
Tezuka was moody for two weeks following the first ranking matches of the new year, becoming extra quiet and snapping at anyone who came too close before spacing out completely and nearly failing their second math exam. He was obviously waiting for buchou to be something buchou never had been and panicked by the thought that Echizen might expect the same from him. Oishi worried.
Inui found a new friend in math and became so engrossed in their excited numerical gibberish, walking around in an uncharacteristic daze and forgetting things he never would have before. This would have been fine, had Kaidoh not shown up at the gates one day, hissing some rosy words and leaving Inui absolutely confused. Oishi fretted.
Fuji visited Taka-san almost everyday, sometimes walking out of practice an hour before they finished or not showing up at all. It was obvious that he wanted his doubles partner back, though Taka-san remained oblivious to this. Oishi disapproved, but could relate to Fuji.
Eiji had stopped calling, stopped leaping on any of them, stopped picking up his phone and coming to practice - just stopped.
Oishi panicked.
Kaidoh Kaoru:
Kaidoh was never jealous.
He just lay in bed sometimes, trying to remember senpai's face - pleased, so very pleased - when Tezuka-buchou offered him the captaincy a month before they graduated. That expression had been the reason he had nodded so vigorously, leapt so willingly into his duties.
Now Echizen was gone and the team sucked; senpai was off sucking face with some math idiot and that dumb peach-butt sulked about their roles and only Kaidoh seemed to notice.
He blamed tennis and repeatedly warned his brother not to take up the sport. Hazue always said that it's okay and he'll play hockey or something instead.
Fuji Syuusuke:
He lost his brother to tennis.
He lost Tezuka to other people's dreams.
He lost Eiji to insecurities.
He lost Inui to Mayazumi-kun.
He lost Taka-san to fish.
Kikumaru Eiji:
Eiji's hair looked more stylish we he didn't gel it. Certainly, it looked depressing and bored hanging lanky and loose around his face but at least he fit in. There was no more tennis to distract him, no more Oishi to help him, no more reasons for the other guys to tease him.
It didn't matter that he missed Oishi or that his new friends were really, really boring.
Inui Sadaharu:
Mayazumi was incredibly intelligent and knack for data gathering could rival even that of Renji's. He looked at everything with a numerical value attached to it, tilting his head to one side then to the other before comparing both. He was a good companion, slowly improving is game and shocking every member of the senior high tennis club. Most of them blamed Inui and the training menu that the junior high team had been infamous for, but it was Mayazumi's tenacity that helped him excel.
A tenacity that was so much like Kaidoh's it disturbed Inui.
Tezuka Kunimitsu:
Yamato-buchou had once been an inspiration. He still was in a way, but Tezuka knew he was disappointed for a reason he couldn't quite place. Things were the same and yet they were too different to be comfortable.
He spent a lot of his time chasing something he couldn't catch, or see. He knew only that it nagged at him in buchou's smile and tingled on his skin with the hand on his shoulder. Everything was different.
He missed Echizen sometimes.
Fuji Syuusuke:
Taka-san was so careful sometimes it hurt to watch his behaviour behind the counter when delicately creating wasabi maki for Fuji or anything regrettably normal for someone else. It was something Fuji didn't like to compare to his old excitement on court when swinging.
Fuji felt angry whenever he wondered where Taka-san seemed more himself. Suddenly he understood Tezuka's frustration with his own lack of motivation with tennis, with almost anything. Perhaps if he motivated Taka-san he'd motivate himself.
Echizen Ryoma:
At practice Ryoma spaced out often. Tennis here was less challenging, less exciting than tennis had been in Japan. He spent a lot of his time wondering how anyone could underestimate Japanese tennis. Then, they hadn't buchou play.
This was motivational.
Kaidoh Kaoru:
Somehow the entire club had found out about buchou's fight with an old regular. Kaidoh wasn't sure whether someone had noticed that the tall guy with glasses had stopped coming to visit or if they had heard about Kaidoh yelling at the high school from a friend or what. No matter what the reason was whenever he saw heads grouped together he would take a leaf out of Tezuka-buchou's book and make everyone run laps - or, if they weren't part of the club, intimidate them until they left or started running as well. He didn't like people talking about him, making assumptions and pretending they knew what went on inside his head.
At least that idiot fukubuchou of his wasn't part of the whispering. Momoshiro was too blunt and idiotic to talk about someone without shouting or letting them know what he thought to their face. Kaidoh knew this better than anyone.
But lately Momoshiro was too busy sulking and silently blaming Kaidoh for their less than successful season. Kaidoh could hear his accusations in the way he glared at him across the courts.
It only made him order more laps.
Kawamura Takeshi:
Fuji had wanted to play before it got cold, which Taka could understand and appreciate. It was, however, embarrassing how poor his play had become, especially compared to a player of Fuji's calibre. He fumbled with every return, his usual enthusiasm dampened by his own embarrassment and panic.
Suddenly, he realized he wasn't fit to be his delicate, talented, wonderful Fujiko's partner.
Oishi Syuuichirou:
Oishi worried about everyone but that worry - much like his love - was never equally divided.
Sometimes he worried about Echizen far away: did he eat enough? Sleep enough? Were his classmates kind to him?
Lately, he watched and wondered and definitely worried about the way Tezuka and Yamato-buchou moved around each other. Did they realize something wasn't normal, that they both were waiting for something that couldn't happen?
And then there was Eiji.
His Eiji, so moody and quiet and…un-hoi'd. It was frightening and the silence between them affected Oishi's sleep and concentration. More than once his friends had questioned his health.
He worried about Eiji's sudden change. For the first time in what he knew couldn't be always - thought it must be - he didn't understand Eiji.
He worried most about them.
Momoshiro Takeshi:
It was Kaidoh's fault that they had failed the club so badly, that nobody was motivated to do anything but gossip or run laps. Kaidoh was not a leader. Momo was.
Always he asked himself where it had slipped away from him. Certainly, Kaidoh had never been knocked from the Regulars like Momo had but nobody had followed Tezuka-buchou because of his monstrous strength on court. Nobody would have followed Momo only because of his tennis abilities.
Fucking Kaidoh.
Tezuka Kunimitsu:
Atobe called twice to check on Tezuka's arm and to see if he would be attending the senior level competition camp that summer. Tezuka missed the second call, being too busy having a surprisingly relaxing argument with buchou over a net.
Kawamura Takashi:
Fuji was frustrated, Taka could tell. He wasn't as oblivious as everyone thought; he knew that Fuji was trying his hardest to get him playing tennis again, to get him to break his promise and return to what had almost become everything.
He wanted to go back but tennis wasn't the same anymore. It wasn't about winning or growing now, but about playing and enjoying it like he never had before. Tennis was supposed to be both calming and exhilarating, and always fun. What he thought it had always been to Fuji.
He didn't remember if they kept score or not, being too lost in the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. Nothing was burning now. Sitting on a bench, side by side…it didn't feel right. It didn't feel like they were teammates once, or partners or even friends. Perhaps they weren't anymore; it was hard to tell.
Taka raised his head to look at Fuji, eyeing him and how exhausted he looked, how pale his skin was, how he probably hadn't been eating properly.\
“I'm sorry, Fuji.” He said, guilty.
Fuji turned, the icy blue of his eyes studying Taka. For a moment there was silence between them and then slowly Fuji shook his head, his thin hair swaying with the motion.
“No,” he whispered. “I'm sorry,” and kissed him.
Echizen Ryoma:
At first it had been weird to be called by his surname - his father's name - and to call others by theirs. It had been uncomfortable and had made him feel much older than if anyone had just called him by his name.
Whenever his teammates complained in the shadows about "Ryoma's showing off' he craved for his old friends, his old rivals and teammates and classmates because it was okay to fight with Echizen, but not pick on Ryoma.
Somehow the one phone call he got to share with Momo-senpai - mostly excited yelling on the other's part - relaxed him. Hearing the voice of a close friend shouting ‘Echizen' was more relieving than any game or even the chance to crush some idiot.
Sometimes he was just a kid.
Inui Sadaharu:
“You don't talk to Kaidoh much anymore.”
Inui raised his head and studied his friend, who simply smiled back before returning to their waiting math homework.
Data, he thought.
Kikumaru Eiji:
Eiji hadn't said a ‘hoi' for a week when Takao pulled out the pack of cigarettes and offered him one at lunch. His image slipped and he stared at him under lanky bangs, the first thought entering his mind that smoking would just ruin his newly found stamina.
Then he remembered that he didn't play tennis anymore and took a cigarette.
“Kikumaru,” they laughed, finding his confusion funny. “Is this your first smoke?”
Yes, Eiji thought, the sound of his own surname awkward and almost painful. He sincerely hoped later that it would also be his last.
Fuji Syuusuke:
One kiss, two kiss, three kisses, four…
What was that rhyme? He couldn't remember. He could clearly recall, however, the blush on Taka-san's cheeks and the way his hand caressed his cheek but not a rhyme that was nagging at his mind.
For the first time Fuji found that he understood the thrill others had in things like tennis and sushi. Vaguely he wondered if this was how Echizen and Tezuka felt after playing together.
Momoshiro Takeshi:
Kaidoh was vicious when he served, when he returned and smashed and trained. Sometimes Momo envied his rival's ferocity, but mostly he wondered how long it'd be until the Viper suffered an aneurysm and/or dropped dead.
Still, playing with the moron was relaxing in a frustrating way that he just couldn't explain. He thought it was mostly because of the mutual hate between them and it was easy to take out stress through tennis and rough housing on one another.
When Momo went home from practice with a split lip he was the happiest he'd been since the nationals.
Oishi Syuuichirou:
It took too long for the solution to come to him, but once his mind was made up it seemed right to resign from the club no matter how disappointed Yamato-buchou seemed or how angry Tezuka was (it was easy to tell when Tezuka was angry: he either made you run laps or ignored you completely).
Eiji was his best friend, his partner. It was okay if he made the play once in a while.
Kaidoh Kaoru:
Lately he was exhausted.
The captaincy, training, Seigaku's failed shot at the nationals and Momoshiro's constant, intensified hostility were eating at his stamina - both emotionally and physically. It had suddenly become a chore to drag himself out of bed every morning and his runs left him worn out rather than energetic. This constant exhaustion was an alien feeling for him and all he wanted to do anymore was hit, hit, hit a ball and then collapse and sleep where no one could bother him.
Hazue knocked on his door one night after dinner, frowning at his brother sprawled out on the floor, glaring at the ceiling.
“Onii-san,” he said, earning only the slightest hiss. “Someone's here to see you.”
Kaidoh raised his head slightly, squinting at the door.
A visitor, he thought, surrendering.
Kawamura Takashi:
When he went home that night all Takashi could think of was the smallest glimpse he'd gotten as he pulled his shirt over his head of Fuji touching his lips, of his being awkward and unsure and Fuji a patient teacher, at the extra wrinkly bits in his tennis shirt where Fuji had gripped almost too tightly.
He was distracted, mind full of Fuji, and it showed.
“Takashi,” said his father, watching his hands move. “The fish isn't made of glass.”
Takashi was silent as he tried to figure out how to tell his father he wouldn't want to break his precious Fujiko.
Kikumaru Eiji:
“Eiji.”
Oishi looked awkward, uncomfortable, and serious standing at the door to the roof. Behind Eiji Chisuke let out a small laugh and Eiji imagined black smoke leaving his lungs and flowing out of his mouth. He was so happy to see Oishi and all he could do was stare and silently fret about what his new - current - friends would think.
Oishi worried his bottom lip with his teeth, adjusting his perfect collar. “I just…” he paused and only Eiji noticed him swallow. “What have you been up to?”
“One of your old tennis buddies?” croaked Takao, slinging an arm around Eiji's shoulders.
“I'm not part of the tennis club anymore.” Oishi cut in, eyes shifting to the taller boy. Eiji felt cold.
Aoyagi came up behind them, shaking a half-empty pack of smokes. “Oh?” he said. “Seen the bright side of life, huh? Want a smoke, old friend of our new friend?” He was teasing Oishi, waiting for the no that was sure to come.
Oh Oishi, Eiji thought. Oishi. Oishi. Oishi.
Oishi's eyes flickered to him, to the packet, to him again and this time to stay. “Yes, I would,” he answered just as Eiji thought, no, he wouldn't.
Oh, Oishi.
Momoshiro Takeshi:
Kaidoh's attention had suddenly shifted and it was weird to see him slouching around the courts without actually being the dominating, intimidating presence he had become - something Momo figured was part of being a captain. It was bad enough that he had lost the position to the viper. Why the moron insisted on making a joke of it was beyond him and extremely infuriating. Perhaps Kaidoh wanted to rub salt into the wound; Momo didn't know.
Something had to be done and there were very few people Momo could think of who could get through Kaidoh's thick skull, including himself, which was the only reason why he stood at the gates to the high school, waiting for practice to let out and missing the first half of his own.
“Inui-senpai,” he called, the freshman's tall - taller - frame coming around the bend. He looked shocked and his friend displeased. Momo didn't care.
“Momoshiro,” he said, adjusting his glasses and opening his notebook.
“Come to our practice some time,” Momo cut in, not wanting to hear useless percentages or assumptions about his personality which were usually disturbingly accurate. “Things have changed since you last came.”
Inui's glasses slipped down his nose and Momo once again felt the indescribably chill of being watched. “Changed,” He echoed, straightening the lenses.
Oishi Syuuichirou:
Oishi thought he'd be tight in the chest for days after the initial puff that had him attempting to cough up his lungs and Eiji's new friends laughing. The back of his throat was dry and itching as he clutched at his chest, squinting through watery eyes.
Eiji, he thought, straightening his back and trying not to run away. Eiji. Anything to be together again.
The next day, he was ready.
Tezuka Kunimitsu:
Two in the morning.
Tezuka was so shocked he almost forgot to lower his voice.
“Echizen?” he said, barely recognizing the deeper voice on the other side of the line. He reached for his glasses, listening to his pillar breathe.
“Buchou,” Echizen replied, finally, as if that were all the apology he'd need. “Good morning.”
Bewildered, Tezuka cradled the phone close to his ear and listened.
Fuji Syuusuke:
Fuji was not distracted enough to miss how calm Tezuka was or the bags under his eyes, or Oishi's missing voice at his shoulder or Mayazumi-kun calling for Inui across the cafeteria. Still, he was distracted enough to take only the slightest note of these things before moving to join Taka-san outside.
Everything else could wait.
Inui Sadaharu:
Things had indeed changed. Mayazumi was not pleased, standing next to him. He fumed in a way Inui would have properly recorded had he had his notebook open. Kaidoh, he thought, looked distracted. Angry. Distant. Even tired, of all things. Momoshiro, he thought, had disrupted all data to show him this. Inui had never been more pleased about being wrong.
“Inui,” Mayazumi said, gesturing away from the courts while Horio frantically waved at them. “We'll miss the bus.”
Yes, he agreed. It would leave in four minutes, twenty-nine seconds and Horio will run half the laps he normally would because Kaidoh hadn't noticed them.
Kaidoh Kaoru:
“Senpai,” Kaidoh said, working to keep his voice gruff, normal and unsurprised even as his heart thudded in his chest. He breathed out slowly in a hiss, his breath making a silver cloud in the night air. It was cold.
“Kaidoh,” Inui replied, straightening his scarf. Kaidoh took a moment to study his old team-mate, taking careful note of the missing notebook and that he was by himself for once. “How have you been?”
He raised his eyes and scowled. “Fine.” He answered curtly, still trying to remain respectful.
Inui's lips pursed.
“No, you have not.”
This time Kaidoh knew the shock was blatant on his face.
“You are missing your sweet spot by three-point-seven centimetres consistently,” continued Inui, obviously unaffected by his old kouhai's lack of response. “Your stamina has decreased by seventeen percent, your grades have slipped an average of four-point-four percent in the last two weeks and you are quieter and more irritable since I last saw you.” Even in the dim light of the lamp by his front door, Kaidoh noticed Inui's glasses glinted as he shifted his head.
Kaidoh blinked at him and for a moment they stared at one another, waiting.
He did the only proper thing, then.
“Senpai,” he croaked. “Would you like to come in?”
Inui's glasses glinted again. “Thank you, Kaidoh.”
Echizen Ryoma:
He felt breathless calling buchou; felt satisfied calling his captain in front of his team's captain, felt warm hearing the sleepiness in buchou's voice. What time was it, he wondered before deciding he didn't care.
His teammates hooted and hollered and Kevin Smith swung an arm around his shoulders in an attempt to listen in on the conversation with ‘Ryoma's Exotic Girlfriend'.
“Probably his mother,” Kevin announced, hearing nothing on either end of the line. Everyone laughed and Ryoma was left in peace with his buchou.
“You'll be fourteen soon,” buchou said. Suddenly the months that only hours earlier had seemed too long were soon enough to make him smile.
“I know,” he replied.
Fuji Syuusuke:
It was strange, being frightened, being scared and anxious and worrying about rejection. Fuji wasn't used to this, or to panic, or to real stress because none of these things had anything to do with him on or off court.
Maybe this was growing up.
It was wonderful being together: he felt brave and normal and exactly as he should be with Taka-san. Thoughts of being grown up replaced thoughts of growing up and Fuji thought and said today was beautiful. Taka-san agreed.
Maybe this was love.
Kikumaru Eiji:
Eiji felt weak, suddenly, walking next to Oishi. Weak, tired, but at the same time the closest thing to energetic he'd been in a long time. He wanted to play tennis, but couldn't remember where he had hid his rackets and Oishi had quit the tennis club anyways.
“I like your hair, Eiji,” Oishi said, squinting at the bus stop in the way he did to distract himself. Eiji pulled his coat tighter around himself and stared straight ahead.
“I don't,” he replied as sullenly as possible, twirling a lanky strand around one finger.
They walked in silence to the bus stop, alone still and feeling awkward together. At least they were together again; at least they were walking side by side.
Eiji peeked out of the corner of his eye, trying to study Oishi through the stray strands of his hair. They shifted in the wind and he caught sight of his old partner, watching him and smiling. Eiji smiled too - wide and normal and totally himself.
They were laughing then: loud and cheerful, with Eiji leaning on Oishi's shoulder and Oishi's laughter shaking both their bodies. They were the Golden Pair again, Eiji thought, laughing harder. They were the invincible Golden Pair of Seigaku, best friends forever and standing on the side of the courts together before practice started.
Eiji wanted that again, right then.
I want to play doubles with Oishi forever, he thought, he remembered.
Kawamura Takashi:
It would be impossible o go back to normal now, Taka realized while fighting down a blush on the football field. Nearby, some older students kicked about a blue ball, laughing and attempting to score on a net with no goalie while Fuji talked about something they wouldn't remember in ten minutes.
Fuji probably thought the same, if he meant to touch Taka's hand just then or take a piece of grass out of his hair when they first sat down.
Taka smiled.
Tezuka Kunimitsu:
“Buchou,” he said, wanting to tell him about Echizen's phone call and the bubbles in his stomach like he'd played too well for too long. Yamato-buchou took one look at him before kissing him and Tezuka forgot what he was about to say. Buchou had that effect on him.
Oishi Syuuichirou:
“Eiji,” he said hoarsely, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. He couldn't recall what had been so funny, and that only made him want to laugh even more. “Do you do that every lunch?”
The air was heavy again and panic squeezing his stomach. He should have waited.
Eiji pulled away and an alien chill caused goose bumps on that side of Oishi's body. All the laughter died away and he swallowed, waiting. He'd deal with all of it, just to be with Eiji again. They had to find that old ‘Golden Pair' feeling again or Oishi feared he would simply fall apart.
Slowly Eiji raised his head and grinned at Oishi. All the worry melted away and he smiled back.
“Not anymore.”
Echizen Ryoma:
He'd rather be calling buchou than running drills. He'd rather be calling buchou than watching Kevin tell everyone a dirty, stupid joke. He'd rather be calling buchou, hearing that sleepy warmth again, than wait for practice to come to a close.
Ryoma was restless, knowing it wasn't proper to repeatedly wake his ex-captain in the early hours of the morning. It wasn't normal to keep thinking of buchou as his captain, even while Ryan yelled at Jason and Tyler for slacking off right next to him.
His head was spinning and he did the only thing he could.
He and Kevin played four long sets, and still he was impatient, wanting more than Kevin could give him. The challenge was there, but it wasn't the same. Even as he won he felt like he'd lost and still missed Better Tennis (like he had come to secretly call Japan). He slouched home, shrugging off Kevin's invitations for ‘fun', as he and the others put it. Ryoma was in the mood for fun; he was in the mood for tennis.
Momoshiro Takeshi:
“Feeling better, mammushi?” Momo called cheerfully, so close to rubbing his help in the moron's face. Kaidoh didn't even realize how much he owed Momo right then, but Momo didn't bother pointing this out. He didn't want anything from him.
Kaidoh glanced at him with a hiss before shouting for the freshmen to start picking up the stray balls. Momo watched him walk away and then turned to Echizen's old cheer team and let out his own hiss. Katou and Kachirou both laughed, but at least he scared Horio.
Inui Sadaharu:
Kaidoh.
All his data fell apart.
Kaidoh Kaoru:
He went for a proper job the morning after Inui's visit, more than determined to prove he was ‘fine' and to find focus for this sudden burst of energy. Still, it was difficult to focus in class but on court he felt the most normal he'd felt in a long time. He almost said ‘misunderstanding', but looking at Momoshiro - calm, finally, though still hostile - and remembering Mayazumi's shaggy head erased that thought.
It was more of an apology, without ever actually apologizing.
He looked around the courts after practice, trying to remember what page his science homework was on, distracted by old memories.
Next year, he thought when the memory of page seventy-eight slipped through his fingers. He imagined Tezuka-buchou standing in the same spot the year before and hoped he missed the captaincy more than Kaidoh would.
Echizen Ryoma:
“Ryoma! Team party!” chorused the twins just as his cell phone beeped wildly in his pocket.
“Echizen?” said buchou, and Ryoma's steps took him home.
Kikumaru Eiji:
“My gel!” Eiji wailed, stomping into the kitchen. “My gel, my gel! Where is it?”
Kai stared at him, instant noodles slipping from his chopsticks and back into the Styrofoam cup in his hand. Silence filled the suddenly empty space and Eiji took this chance to show off the practiced hair flip that he probably wouldn't need anymore.
“What are you wandering around, screeching like a dying goat for?” Kai hissed, setting his noodle cup down.
“Goat?” Eiji repeated, frowning at his brother. Kai rolled his eyes and Eiji took that as a signal to move on. “What are you doing here?” He kept his voice low, following Kai's example. Above, Miaka roared the usual, warning Eiji to shut up or else.
Kai twirled his chopsticks in his fingers, looking past Eiji at something he couldn't see.
“I left,” he replied finally, looking defeated like Eiji had never seen him before. “Things change, Eiji.”
Eiji considered this, running a hand through his hair. It was too long. “Do Mama and Dad know?” he asked slowly, realizing how'd long it had been since he had last seen his eldest sibling.
Kai shook his head, leaning against the counter Mina had just finished cleaning. “No, and don't tell them,” he paused. “I want to tell them myself.”
“Are you coming home then?”
Again, Kai shook his head and Eiji slouched, frowning. “Ken-po wouldn't like giving up his half of the room again,” Kai explained teasingly, reaching for his purloined dinner.
“You could share with me,” Eiji pressed, sitting down at the kitchen table. He watched his brother pull a long noodle into his mouth, leaning his chin on his open palms like he'd seen Fuji do a million times before. He doubted he looked as reliable or elegant (or menacing, depending on Fuji's mood) but it was worth a try.
Kai smiled. “I'm not dropping out of the university yet, kiddo.” Another noodle slid into his mouth and Eiji's memory flashed back to a hundred different images of Kai bent over his books and his Thai-flavoured instant noodles when worried and leaning over Eiji's or Ken's or any of their scabbed knees. Suddenly Kai wasn't his reliable aniki, off being smart and amazing with his pretty wife in University.
Everyone had their moments and dealt with them how they could. Kai ran away sometimes too and Eiji was proud to think his brother could go back when he was ready, when the water finished boiling.
Until then, he could refill the kettle and keep quiet until Kai left the safety of the normal and ventured back out into the world.
Kawamura Takashi:
“I missed Eiji,” Fuji said one day while they walked home together, heavy in their big coats and surrounded by the bright lights of the oncoming winter season.
Taka almost asked where the bubbly red-head had gone but the look on Fuji's face warned him against it. It was a new rule of his to avoid conflict. When he had told Fuji of this he had only received a non-committal shrug and the usual smile. Fuji thrived on conflict it seemed. Taka didn't mind: his Fujiko - his, his, his, his - always had a reason.
“He was teased a lot at the start of the year,” Fuji said, adjusting the strap of his bag.
“All of us freshmen were,” Taka replied, patiently urging Fuji to continue.
The response came slowly. “Eiji didn't know that.”
Winter should be difficult, Taka thought, blowing out a puff of white air. “Did you tell him?”
“I should have,” Fuji's eyes flashed.
Taka was almost worried.
Inui Sadaharu:
“I have a theory,” Mayazumi said, rubbing his arms while the tennis club stood in a disorganized mess in the cool gym. Yamato-buchou was working to get at leas the regulars (and prospective regulars) into the fitness room. It was far too cold to even bother with the courts.
Inui raised his chin and studied Tezuka, leaning against the wall. He was flipping his cell phone open and closed with an awkwardness that seemed unusual for him. It appeared as though he was afraid of getting caught, though Inui couldn't see why. Yamato-buchou was the closest thing to a proper authority figure the club had at the moment, and even if he came back and spotted Tezuka with his phone out he wasn't like to care - the probability of punishment was even lower because it was Tezuka.
“Your theories are usually very close to the truth,” he replied, turning from one view to look at another. Mayazumi ran a hand through his hair.
“I believe you're rather gay Inui,” He continued, hand falling to his side.
“I believe you are correct again,” Inui turned his head, barely catching sight of Tezuka slipping his phone into his jacket pocket. His notebook flipped open with a practiced flip of his wrist. He lifted his pen to the page and wrote the time neatly, book balanced on the palm of his hand. “Aren't you?”
Mayazumi sniffed. A cold, Inui thought as he began to write.
“Only when I choose to be.”
Momoshiro Takeshi:
“Momoshiro-kun!”
She waved from a table in the corner and both Momo and Arai froze. Across from Tachibana's little sister sat Kamio, scrambling to put together his dropped burger before she noticed.
Momo blinked and waved back awkwardly, locking eyes with Kamio.
Oh man, he thought, grinning.
“Order for me,” he said to Arai, stepping out of line. The other senior panicked.
“What! Give me money then, you big mooch!” he snapped, grabbing at Momo's arm. With a laugh Momo shrugged him off and started towards the pair.
This would be good.
Oishi Syuuichirou:
“Your fish are silly, Oishi.”
He turned from the tank and they smiled at each other. “You always say that, Eiji.”
“'Cause it's true,” the red-head retorted, scooping up Oishi's bag. “Look at them flop.”
He reached to take back his bag, sniffing. “My fish don't flop, Eiji, they swim.”
“Or flop.”
Oishi rolled his eyes, still smiling as he slung a strap over his shoulder. “Let's just get going,” he replied, teasing his partner.
Eiji smiled at him all the way to the bus stop and on the bus when they stood to let an elderly couple sit, and when they ran to get to their booked court on time. It was strange, but not uncomfortable - as long as it was Eiji.
“What's wrong?” he asked, finally, watching Eiji scuff his shoes on the tidy court. Indoor courts always made him jumpy, claustrophobic. “Is there something on my face?” It wouldn't be the first time. Their second sleepover Eiji had drawn on his face and Oishi had walked around all day without knowing it
Eiji raised his head and the smile grew. “Nah,” he replied, waving his racket restlessly. “Just thinking that my aniki's right.”
Fuji Syuusuke:
“What's this, Chisuke?”
Fuji leaned against the doorframe, surveying the small group against the fence. They stared back, though none wore a smile. “Good afternoon,” he greeted, folding his arms across his chest.
“Fuji,” grunted Takao around an unlit cigarette. Chisuke offered him his lighter - an ugly silver thing like the kind Fuji had only ever seen on television. Takao took it, flipping it open with a bandaged thumb. “I hope you're lost.”
“Not quite,” Fuji replied smoothly, smile not faltering even as the largest of the group - a scowling junior who Fuji didn't remember - cracked his knuckles menacingly. It was so clichéd Fuji wanted to laugh. This would be easy.
“You'd best be on your way, Fuji-kun,” Aoyagi said, taking the lighter from Takao. “Or take a cig and stick around for a beating.”
Fuji's smile grew and he stepped away from the door. “You're so generous, Aoyagi-senpai.” He replied sweetly, holding out a hand.
Several eyebrows went upward and Takao let out a small laugh. “Give him one, Aoyagi. Let's see how the pretty boy feels afterwards.”
“So generous,” Fuji repeated, bowing his head and almost smirking.
Kaidoh Kaoru:
Momoshiro walked about with Tachibana's little sister on his arm (though it really seemed more like he was hanging off of her) smug as you please for a week before realizing nobody cared.
All Kaidoh could do was smile.
Tezuka Kunimitsu:
It happened the first time buchou pinned him against the wall in his bedroom.
Trapped between buchou's body and the wall, his own hands angled in his shirt, Tezuka thought: I should want this. It was normal to kiss and be kissed, but not like this…at least, it had been normal. What had changed?
His phone rang, then, and his question was answered by the shrill tune buchou had set at a time that seemed very far away. He pulled away and for the first time Tezuka was too distracted to consider the shine in his captain's eyes. It was a song Yamato-buchou had never heard, and one Tezuka knew all too well by now. Buchou's eyes said not to pick it up, to ignore it and move on.
So many things had changed.
“Excuse me,” he muttered, waiting for the chance to slip away. Buchou stepped back almost immediately and Tezuka turned to grab his vibrating cell phone. He didn't pause to see buchou's expression.
“Echizen,” he said, his voice as steady as he could get it. The door opened behind him.
“Buchou,” Echizen replied in that way that made Tezuka almost think the title was his name.
The door clicked shut and Tezuka leaned against the same wall, breathless and with a pounding heart.
Kikumaru Eiji:
“I'll come visit again soon,” Kai promised, grinning. “During daylight hours.” Eiji grinned too.
“Mama will like that,” he replied, tossing an empty can of juice between his hands.
Kai looked almost sad as he switched back to his Responsible Aniki expression. “Find someone who loves you for who you are,” he said suddenly, voice so serious even Eiji's smile faltered. “Not for who they expect you to be.”
That makes sense, Eiji thought as he peeked out the living room window at his brother's retreating back. Why was it so hard for everyone then?
Inui Sadaharu:
“Mayazami-san…doesn't mind?” Kaidoh asked softly, sitting close on the floor. Their books were spread out in front of them, Kaidoh's Japanese notes on Inui's foot. His mind was buzzing.
“Why should he?” Inui replied, flipping a page in his Math text without reading the previous. He was distracted, thinking more about how happy Kaidoh's mother had been to see him again and how warm Kaidoh's body was next to him than about formulas and quadratics.
He could hear the smile in Kaidoh's voice. “What's the chance of me failing the test tomorrow?” His voice had gotten deeper, somehow.
Inui's mind buzzed even louder. “I'll calculate it later,” he answered, pushing the textbook away. It landed with a thunk on the floor. Now was not a time for numbers.
Fuji Syuusuke:
There were burn marks on Aoyagi-senpai's left cheek and one on Takao's neck. Only Fuji knew these existed, however, as they had covered the marks with heavy bandages. The entire group avoided him, which was more than fine for Fuji. He had made his point, taken his revenge for Eiji.
Unsurprisingly he decided against telling Taka-san about the vent.
Oishi Syuuichirou:
Oishi found him sitting on the second-floor bathroom floor, head in his hands and blue phone at his feet. It was the strangest sight he'd seen in a long time, and one of the most worrying. The door swung shut behind him, cutting off the sound of their schoolmates shuffling along to their next class.
The sound of his breathing filed the cavern the bathroom had become and Oishi gulped. “Tezuka,” he ventured, worry twisting his gut.
Tezuka raised his head, expression stoic as always. They stared at each other for a moment and then he scooped up his phone and got to his feet, not quite looking at Oishi.
“Class will be starting soon,” he said unnecessarily, moving to step past Oishi.
“Tezuka,” he repeated, staring at where his friend had been sitting before. “Are…you alright?” It seemed like a stupid question.
No answer.
Oishi breathed carefully and neither of them moved for a moment.
“I'm here, if you…want to talk or something,” It sounded girly and awkward and t the same on his tongue. He bit his bottom lip. “Only if you want.”
“Thank you,” was his only reply and then Tezuka was gone.
Echizen Ryoma:
“Are you alright?”
“Yes.”
Ryoma frowned, leaning against the bathroom wall. Buchou sounded out of breath and almost panicky - even though buchou was never any of those things. Maybe he had been playing tennis.
“Echizen,” he said suddenly, stiff voice the best thing Ryoma had heard all week. “Are you coming back?”
“Always do,” Ryoma replied with a smirk. “I am a Pillar of Seigaku.”
There was silence on the other end, crackling with overseas static.
“Don't think of that as an obligation,” Ryoma's smile faded and he almost nodded before remembering buchou was in another country.
“I don't,” he replied quickly. Again, there was silence and he held his breath, thinking. “Maybe I should just be your Pillar of Support, buchou.”
More silence and then a response Ryoma almost laughed at.
“I may lose an eye.”
Momoshiro Takeshi:
An was wonderful, beautiful, perfect, and his. With her, Momo felt the closest he'd been to himself in a long time. Maybe it wouldn't last forever but it was bright and warm now and that was all that mattered.
Although her brother was a lot less cool.
Tezuka Kunimitsu:
He would have sworn had the situation been a little more bearable.
“Oh dear,” muttered Oishi behind him. That didn't seem to quite over the extent of the issue, floating in the gleaming toilet bowl.
“Your phone is useless now, Tezuka.”
Trust Inui to point out the obvious.
Kaidoh Kaoru:
“I don't like you much, Kaidoh-kun.”
Standing next to Mayazumi on the rumbling train and listening to his almost-sweet voice, Kaidoh couldn't quite understand what Inui found so appealing about his company. He seemed very girly, almost like Fuji, but even more annoying. The way he spoke and even looked at others was frustrating. Maybe he'd been spending too much time around Momoshiro but he almost wondered who had cut his dick off.
“Feeling's mutual,” Kaidoh replied gruffly, grip on their shared pole tightening. That seemed to settle things.
Kaidoh got off at the next stop and ran the rest of the way home.
Kawamura Takashi:
“Fuji!”
Despite what many believed Fuji was not a delicate boy. His appearance often suggested the opposite but Takashi had never seen him cut or bruised - at least, not ones like this.
His heart pounded in his chest as he watched Fuji turn to peer over his shoulder at his splotched back. The marks were ugly, purple and frightening, like some disease invading his Fuji's perfect skin.
“How did you do that?” Taka managed, sputtering through the words and only earning a small smile.
“Saa,” Fuji replied, turning away and pulling on his shirt. The bruises seemed to leave purple dots on Taka's eyelids as he blinked. “I suppose I've gotten slow.
Slow, he thought numbly.
“How?” he demanded as forcefully as he could, pushing his dress shirt around his shoulders.
“I feel,” Fuji replied, sitting nonchalantly on his bed. The smile never faded.
Epilogue
December.
Winter.
Christmas.
Passing Time.
*
Momo let out a long breath that became mist floating in front of him for the slightest moment before mixing with the rest of the night air. He didn't watch it, being preoccupied with larger things.
“You aren't serious.”
An looked cold and angry standing in her skirt and black leggings on the frosted court. The street courts looked like a ghost town without the nets, like some other boring strip of concrete even though every tennis player knew the courts were more than that.
He shrugged and jumped from the bench he had been standing on. The cool air was making his head clear, making him thoughtful. He had accepted the past season hadn't been the greatest, but he couldn't see himself handling a repeat.
“It's not something you can just shrug off,” An snapped, batting away his hand as he reached for hers. Momo pouted. “Tennis…I know it's more than that to you.”
Again, Momo shrugged and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “Maybe it's not worth it.” Another white puff of air and he turned away.
An fumed silently for a moment, watching his unmoving figure. It would snow soon, she decided, huffing a frustrated puff.
“You're upset because you had a bad season. I can understand that,” she said, taking a cautious, slow step towards her boyfriend. “But you're sitting around blaming Kaidoh even though it's really not his fault.”
Momo scowled, tapping his fingers inside his pockets. “Then whose fault is it?” he grumbled, earning a roll of her yes.
Sometimes she worried about his maturity. “Well, let's see: you're kind of responsible for making your season bearable.” She replied, tone stiff and mood unforgiving. “Stop being immature.”
“Maybe I'm right for once,” he grumbled, scuffing his foot on the silver court. “And you're wrong.”
More silence and then An sighed and came up behind him. She linked their arms and surveyed the frosted courts that were practically home during the summer months. “Not quite,” she breathed and he twitched, still frustrated. “I'm not dating you because you're a wimp, you know.” An continued, holding them more tightly together.
“I'm no wimp!” Momo practically roared it, his passion ruined only by the crack of his voice. An hid a snicker behind her free hand.
“Then stop blaming other people, and don't quit tennis,” It seemed obvious to her, but Momo was a thick-headed boy. He scuffed his shoe on the court again and another puff of white floated away.
She smiled. “I know.”
*
“Maybe I'll open a sushi restaurant to rival yours, Taka-san.”
Fuji was teasing him, of course. Taka rolled his eyes but they continued to smile at each other over the counter. Making the rolls seemed almost automatic lately.
“Whatever makes you happy, Fujiko,” He would be happy too. Partners didn't just apply to tennis anymore. Yet, his smile faltered and his hands paused. “Will you be happy like that?”
Fuji picked up a pair of chopsticks, tapping them together in his boredom. “Tennis has become boring,” he explained after a moment. “Eiji and Oishi left during the season. Even if they're planning on coming back next year I know how dull it is without them now. I want them to be my friends, not just my once teammates.”
Tap, tap. Still, Taka was unmoving.
“You're gone now, too,” Fuji continued, turning his wrist slowly as if stretching. “Doubles is always more fun than singles. And Inui is caught up in helping Mayazumi-kun, now that he isn't a regular.” More tapping. “Tezuka's confused and I don't think he even realizes this yet,” Fuji's smile almost became a smirk. “He's obvious no fun to tease anymore. Momo and Kaidoh will be back next year and they're always fun, but…” He shrugged.
Hesitantly, Taka set down his knife and leaned on the counter. They stared at each other and Fuji stopped tapping his pilfered chopsticks.
“Don't you…love tennis at all, Fuji?” He asked after a moment, frowning.
Always smiling, Fuji set down the chopsticks. “At times,” he said. “But now I'd like tennis to love me back.”
Tennis, Taka thought, shouldn't automatically translate in his mind to their friends.
“It's not always going to be like last year,” Taka said quietly, picking up his knife again. There were still customers waiting after all. “Our senior year was a gem, Fuji.”
Fuji shook his head. “It should always be like that.”
He sliced the salmon carefully, looking down now. “Eiji would appreciate what you did, if he knew about it,” He said slowly, earning a slight chuckle.
“No, he wouldn't,” Fuji's reply was soft. “You don't even understand why I did it, or if you do it bothers you.”
Taka was silent, contemplating this. “I worry about you,” he explained, as though that was all it was.
“Leaving tennis for a while will do me some good, I think,” Fuji announced, getting to his feet. Only then did Taka notice how late it had become. “If Echizen comes back, so will I.”
*
“Mama's sad now,” Eiji muttered, forcing his toque over his head. He wore a frown that pained Oishi, making him afraid he was going to lose his partner again if he wasn't careful. “So are the rest of us, so is Kai, but…” His lips pursed, almost into a pout.
“Mothers tend to worry,” Oishi replied almost immediately, rubbing his hands together for warmth. Their feet crunched on last week's snow as they walked together, mixing with the other downtown shoppers despite Eiji's bright hair. “It's what they're here for.”
Eiji didn't reply at first, but Oishi was patient. “All this time, it wasn't even his baby,” the red-head said, slipping between an arguing pair. “I'm not an uncle, and aniki's not a dad.”
Oishi cast a sideways look at him. This divorce would be messy, he thought, remembering Eiji's cheerful eldest brother. This wasn't the sort of thing that one expected to see in a family as cheerful and close as the Kikumarus. It was depressing, really. He didn't know what to say.
“…is Kai coming home, then?” he asked, choosing safe territory to avoid upsetting his partner. He wrung the end of his scarf between his hands as they came to a stop among the other walkers, waiting for the light to change.
Next to him, Eiji shook his head. “Nah…he still needs to be close to the university,” he replied, shivering in his coat and hopping from foot to foot. “That's too bad, I think. It'd be better if he just came home.”
Oishi nodded, agreeing and watching Eiji bounce from side to side. He was earning curious glances from an older man near them but neither of the Golden Pair could really be bothered to care.
“Everyone has their way of dealing with their problems,” Oishi started as the light changed and they joined the bustling crowd across the street. Eiji moved closer automatically so they wouldn't separate and they smiled at each other. “Being away is probably your brother's way of dealing with this change.”
Eiji snickered. “Yeah, sometimes people do dumb things to deal with change,” he muttered teasingly, knocking their shoulders together. Oishi's brow furrowed.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, thinking back. This time Eiji laughed properly and out loud, slinging an arm around his partner's shoulder so that he danced on his tip toes to keep up and close. They probably looked ridiculous, but this was the way they were.
“Absolutely nothing, Oishi!”
*
“Bullying?” Kaidoh echoed, testing the syllables out on his tongue. It wasn't a term he'd used in years as he considered it rather primary school to call someone a bully, but Inui had just said it with as serious a face as any. Perhaps it was time to change his attitude about t.
“Yes,” Inui replied, offering Kaidoh his discarded gloves. Grudgingly, the third-year took them and slipped them on. It wasn't that cold, not for him. “The past few months have been especially difficult for Kikumaru and Tezuka.”
Kaidoh frowned. He couldn't see either of his old senpai (and captain) bullied by anyone. He knew as well as any of the other ex-Regulars that his arm injuries were caused by an incident in his first year, but that had never sounded like exactly what he knew it was now. He flexed his fingers in his gloves and considered this new thought.
“We all assumed the old senpai would back off from Tezuka, at least because he had proved his worth as a player and is close to Yamato-buchou,” Inui continued, taking a sleek thermos out of his bag. Immediately Kaidoh stepped away, knowing better than to trust anything Inui pulled out in an opaque container. “But Tezuka has been distracted and jumpy lately”-further images Kaidoh couldn't quite fit with his old captain-“and a couple of weeks ago I found his cell phone in a toilet.”
Inui shook the thermos and Kaidoh raised an eyebrow, watching him warily. “In a toilet?” he repeated, kicking at some fresh snow to keep his body moving.
“Yes,” Inui was already moving on, turning the top of the thermos to open it. “Kikumaru, on the other hand, was teased mostly outside of the tennis club. This ultimately led to his leaving the club completely and apparently quitting the sport for a short time. I have information about his acquaintances during this time, and the activities they were involved in.” He paused and the lid came off with a pop, emitting normal-looking steam that still didn't change Kaidoh's suspicions. “I do not know if Kikumaru was involved in all of these, but he seems to be back to normal thanks to Oishi.”
Leave it to fukubuchou, Kaidoh thought, turning to looking at the glossy river.
“So…all of this is a warning for next Spring?” Kaidoh asked, putting his hands in his pockets.
“Yes, if you'd like,” Inui replied. Kaidoh heard him sniff the drink and turned his head slightly to peer at him. “Or it could simply be valuable data, depending on your personality.”
Kaidoh almost rolled his eyes.
Inui recapped the thermos loosely and reached back into his bag with his free hand, pulling out two plastic cups. This wasn't a good sign, but it was too late to run now. Kaidoh sighed and took a seat next to him on the bench, picking up the discarded notebook and holding it on his knees.
“A drink, Kaidoh?” At his raised eyebrow Inui smiled. “Not to worry, it's only hot chocolate my mother made.”
He looked from the thermos to his smiling boyfriend and then shrugged, holding a hand out for a cup. Inui's smile grew and Kaidoh smiled back.
Yamato-buchou made many promises to find out who exactly had done it, but Tezuka had found he didn't really care. His parents only seemed worried that he might get hit again with a tennis racket, but he didn't see that as a likely event. Things continued as normal, or as normal as they could in between phone calls with Echizen and what had to be called dates with buchou.
He spent a lot of his ‘alone' time wondering if he had played enough tennis that day, or even that week. This time increased more than he realized he had lost during the four days leading up to Christmas Eve, during which Echizen's phone calls just stopped. It was a little bit worrying, but Echizen was a big boy; Tezuka trusted he could take care of himself without needing to run to the phone to talk to him at every corner.
It was almost lonely, but he had buchou around to keep him distracted.
Christmas Eve, seven o'clock PM Tokyo Time, his doorbell rang and his mother shouted for him to please go and get it. His father prodded him in the side once on his way to the door in an attempt to make him laugh and his grandfather shouted downstairs twice to see what was burning.
When he opened the door, Echizen smirked up at him from under his familiar white hat and Tezuka's heart stopped.
“Echizen,” he said after a moment of them staring at each other. He hesitated. “Happy birthday.”
“Heh. Thanks, buchou,” His voice sounded even deeper in person. Echizen was fourteen today, and that had finally hit home. Tezuka wanted to smile. “Merry Christmas.”
“Thank you.”
There was further silence, and then he did the obvious thing: invited his old super rookie inside, which only earned him a slow shake of his head and a package thrust towards his hand.
“Mochi,” was Echizen's only explanation as he adjusted his cap. “And, uh, wrist bands.”
This time Tezuka did smile, but Echizen didn't see it.
“Hey, buchou,” he said after a moment, still playing with the rim of his hat. “Are you…with someone right now?”
It was a strange question. “My parents and grandfather,” Tezuka responded automatically.
Echizen looked up at him now, grinning and shaking his head. “Not what I meant,” he muttered, hands falling to his side. “Doesn't matter, anyways.”
It was going to start snowing soon. He couldn't wait.
“Buchou,” Echizen started again, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. “I'm not back for good yet, but when I am…” He shrugged, smirking up at his ex-captain. “When I am back for good, whoever you're with now better know it.”
Tezuka had a feeling he should feel offended, annoyed, bothered…he really didn't.
“Don't make me wait, Echizen,” He said after a moment, bowing his head.
Echizen tilted the brim of his cap up and grinned fully at him. “I'll do my best, buchou.”
*
“Argh! Inui-senpai!”
“It's only a protein supplement Kaidoh.”