Happy spring, puccho!
Title: Follow Me
Recipient's name: puccho
Rating: PG
Warnings: None, really.
Pairing(s): Sanada/Atobe
Author's notes: I hope you enjoy it puccho! Sorry if it isn't exactly what you were looking for, but I tried my best!
“I can’t believe that I was put in doubles!”
Sanada takes the phone away and stares at it for a second, and then lifts it slowly back to his ear, frowning slightly. “Atobe?”
“Of course. Who else would be calling you?”
“It’s eleven o’clock,” says Sanada.
Atobe sounds irritated. “So what?”
Sanada stands by his bed in his blue pyjamas, the phone in one hand and a glass of water in the other, and sighs. “At night, Atobe,” he says.
“So?” Atobe repeats. “I called your cell phone, didn’t I? It’s not like I disturbed anyone.”
Sanada sits down on his bed and places the water on his bed side table. “How did you even get my number?”
“Kirihara gave it to me,” Atobe says dismissively. “But that’s not important. Why aren’t you more upset about this?”
“Upset about what?” asks Sanada.
“What do you mean, upset about what?” Atobe asks. His voice has gone a pitch higher. “We were placed in doubles together! Doubles! I am a singles player. And not even doubles one, but doubles two! It’s outrageous!”
“Well seeing as we are both singles players, that’s probably why we are two, not one,” says Sanada tiredly.
“Your not helping, Sanada,” Atobe snaps. “My point is, I am an amazing singles player! And you are almost as good as me, so why didn’t they put that Kikumaru from Seigaku in doubles with… I don’t know… Sengoku. They at least are real doubles players. What could Kantoku be thinking?”
“Sengoku isn’t a doubles player,” say Sanada, his finger inching towards the off button. “Look, Atobe-“
“Is it just because of that stupid little game we played together?” continues Atobe, as though he doesn’t even hear Sanada. “If I had known it would land me here, I would never have suggested it!”
“Atobe…” Sanada looks at the clock. Ten minutes have gone by already. “Atobe, we both have school tomorrow. We will talk later.”
“Meet me at the street courts after school,” says Atobe suddenly.
“What?” Sanada frowns. “Why?”
“We have to practise together, don’t we?” asks Atobe impatiently. “I don’t know about you, but I want to win, and we can’t expect to just arrive a month later with out having done anything, and expect to win! We’d look ridiculous!”
Sanada sighs heavily. The worst part is that he knows that Atobe is right. “Fine. We’ll practice tomorrow. Four thirty.”
“Good.” There is a pause, then Atobe says, “You should really get some sleep, Sanada. You sound tired, and I don’t want you falling asleep on your feet tomorrow just because you stayed up to late. Ja.”
There is a click in Sanada’s ear, and he snaps his phone shut in annoyance, tossing it into his tennis bag.
***
At exactly four thirty sharp the next day, Sanada walks slowly up the steps to the street courts, thinking that maybe this won’t be so bad after all. It is just tennis, which Sanada enjoys, and it is what he would be doing anyways, if he weren’t on his way to meet Atobe.
He climbs the last step and enters the courts, and immediately sees that Atobe is already there. Only Atobe is already playing with someone, and when Sanada looks closer he sees Tezuka Kunimitsu on the other side of the net. Atobe is laughing as he hits the ball, and Tezuka looks as serious as ever, and as he smashes the ball out, he glances up and his eyes look over Atobe’s shoulder and lock with Sanada’s. Sanada nods in greeting, and Tezuka does the same.
Atobe looks around and see him too, and he smiles and waves Sanada over. “Ah, Sanada,” he says. “I am just going to finish my game with Tezuka, and then we can get started.”
“Alright,” says Sanada, and walks over to a bench, sitting down and placing his tennis bag on the ground beside him. It is a nice afternoon, and with the sun shining down on his face, Sanada feels quite relaxed for a change. Atobe and Tezuka have resumed their game in silence, at first the only sound coming from the ball being hit repeatedly over the net.
Sanada leans back against the bench, watching as first Atobe then Tezuka score points. He isn’t sure how long he has been sitting there, when he knows that suddenly, something has changed. At first Atobe and Tezuka were trying as hard as they could to beat each other; Sanada could see it in the way their muscles clenched as they dived for the ball, and sweat ran down their foreheads. The way their eyes burned, focusing solely on each other. But as the game goes on, and the score is 5-4, 5-5… 5-6, there is something different about how they are playing.
Sanada narrows his eyes as Atobe laughs out loud as one of Tezuka’s serves flies right past him.
“I haven’t seen that serve before, Tezuka,” say Atobe. “Is it new?”
“Yes,” says Tezuka, his voice deep and serious.
“Impressive,” Atobe says, raising a hand to his face as Tezuka raises his racquet again. “Very nice. I will return it though.”
Tezuka doesn’t say anything, but Sanada can see a small smile on his face as he serves.
Their game is different. Sanada can see it in the way Atobe is now smiling almost constantly, and his swings become flashier, more like he is trying to impress Tezuka, rather than win. Tezuka is smiling too, and he talks back to Atobe when he asks questions in between running for the ball. They fall into an easy, relaxed game, and neither of them are paying any attention to Sanada, who sits on the bench watching in fascination.
The street lamps surrounding the tennis courts click on before Sanada finally looks at his watch, and realized what time it is. 8:45pm. His parents were expecting him home a long time ago for dinner, it will take him at least half an hour to walk home, he has homework to do before he goes to bed at ten, and he and Atobe never played tennis.
Sanada stands up slowly, wincing as his body tells him exactly how long he spent sitting on the bench. As he picks up his tennis bag he realizes that Atobe and Tezuka are making their way over to him. He frowns slightly.
“Sanada!” says Atobe, sounding surprised. “You’re still here? Sorry we didn’t get to play today. Our game went on longer than expected, and it is too dark to play now.”
“Who won?” Sanada asks.
Atobe laughs slightly. “Oh, we stopped keeping score after a while, but it was probably me.”
“You never managed to return my serve,” says Tezuka. “It can’t have been you.”
Atobe looks slightly put out, but he still smiles, and says, “Well I came close. I almost had it that one time, didn’t I? And there were plenty of my shots you couldn’t return, Tezuka.”
Tezuka shrugs, but Sanada can see the corners of his lips twitching.
“I see…” says Sanada slowly.
“Well, Tezuka and I are going to go get coffee,” Atobe says. “How about we meet here tomorrow at the same time, and we can start practicing then?”
Sanada isn’t sure what else to do but nod.
“Good. See you tomorrow, then,” says Atobe, and waves, but he is already walking away.
Tezuka nods to Sanada, and says, “Goodnight,” before following Atobe.
As Sanada sits in bed that night, he half expects Atobe to call him, but as the clock ticks past first eleven, then twelve o’clock, he wonders what he is staying up for anyways, and turns off the light.
Instead, his phone rings the next morning when Sanada is on the bus on his way to school, and a quick glance at the call display tells him it is indeed Atobe, who sounds a little worse for wear when he tells Sanada good morning.
“I am just calling to make sure you remember to meet me after school,” he says to Sanada.
“I didn’t forget,” says Sanada, feeling slightly annoyed, even though he is yawning this morning because he stayed up too late.
“Ah, good,” says Atobe. “I am really looking forward to playing you.”
He hangs up, and Sanada to slowly close his phone, and feel his stomach flutter in… nervousness, he tells himself. He is just nervous that they won’t be ready in time to win their game.
***
It is a familiar, though unwelcome, sight that Sanada sees when he reaches the street courts that afternoon, although a part of him was expecting it.
And again, Atobe doesn’t notice him right away; in fact, not seeing Sanada until almost ten minutes later, when he pauses his game with Tezuka Kunimistu to get a drink of water.
“Sanada, when did you get here?” Atobe calls to where Sanada is again sitting on the bench. “Don’t worry, my game with Tezuka is almost over... I will just be a couple more minutes.”
Sanada sighs as Atobe, clearly not expecting an answer, resumes his game, and wonders if maybe he should just leave, seeing as the day seems to be going down the same path as yesterday. But Sanada doesn’t get up and leave. He doesn’t even pull out a book to read, or the homework he has to do, although he strongly considered it. Instead, Sanada sits on the bench, and watches Atobe play tennis.
And this time he actually watches, instead of just sitting and staring as a ball flies over a net. He realizes that he probably won’t get to play tennis today.
***
The third time Atobe phones Sanada, he is in class, and the phone goes off, ringing loudly in the silent room. Luckily the teacher has stepped out of the room for the moment, but all heads still turn towards where Sanada is sitting, who scowls as he reaches quickly into his bag and pulls out his phone, a light pink blush on his cheeks. “What do you want, Atobe,” he snaps, then winces for not lowering his voice as more heads turn and stare.
“Oh, Sanada,” says Atobe. “You sound upset. Did I interrupt something?”
“I am in the middle of class!” Sanada hisses.
“Well you shouldn’t have picked up the phone, then,” says Atobe, clearly not noticing the sound of Sanada grinding his teeth. “I could have just left a message. I didn’t mean to interrupt your class.”
Sanada rubs a hand over his eyes and hopes the teacher doesn’t come back anytime soon, and says, “Too late.”
“Oh, well, I just wanted to make sure you remembered to meet me today,” Atobe says. “I know the last couple of times haven’t worked out, but I know for a fact that Tezuka is going out of town today, so there won’t be any distractions.”
“Right,” says Sanada. “Actually, Atobe-“
“Great!” says Atobe, sounding pleased. “See you then!”
Sanada is getting tired of having Atobe hang up on him.
And true to his word, when Sanada again walks up the steps to the street court, Tezuka isn’t there to distract him with a never-ending tennis game.
But Echizen Ryoma is.
When Sanada sees the stupid white hat, and hears “mada mada dane!” coming from Echizen’s lips, he actually turns around to leave when a voice calls his name, making him pause.
“Oi Sanada! Over here!”
He turns, and sitting on the bench is a guy wearing a Hyoutei uniform, who is waving almost frantically at him.
Frowning slightly, Sanada makes his way over and sits down on the bench for the third day in a row. When he has more or less settled himself, the guy sticks out a hand, which Sanada takes, somewhat reluctantly.
“I’m Shishido,” says the guy. “It’s a good thing I caught you, or Atobe would have killed me.” Seeing Sanada’s puzzled look, he quickly explains, “Atobe dragged me along today so I could help you guys play doubles, seeing as how I am an expert, and everything.” He laughs, but Sanada just feels confused.
“Anyways,” Shishido continues, “we ended up arriving half an hour early, and so we were just going to play a game while we waited for you, but then that kid showed up, and of course he wanted to play Atobe right away. So I got stuck here with strict orders not to let you leave. Good thing to. Atobe is smarter than he looks.”
“I see,” says Sanada.
Shishido snorts, then calls loudly, “Hey Atobe! Sanada is here, so lets get started!”
On the courts, Atobe quickly looks around, and when he sees Sanada, he smiles, then says to Echizen, “Okay, brat, it’s been fun, but I have-“
“6 games to 5,” says Echizen, smirking.
“What!” Atobe says indignantly. “It was only 4-4!”
Echizen shrugs. “Well now it is only one game until I beat you. Sanada can wait that long.”
Shishido sighs loudly and leans back, slumping down against the bench. “Great,” he mumbles. “Now we really will be waiting here forever.”
Sanada picks up his bag. “Well,” he starts to say, but Shishido cuts him off.
“No way are you leaving me alone here,” he says. “If Atobe dragged me all the way out here for nothing, at least you can suffer with me. Besides, what if they finish, and Atobe want to play, but you aren’t here? I will be the one getting in trouble for it!”
Sanada glares at Shishido, but he can see Atobe watching him out of the corners of his eyes as he serves, so he sighs heavily and sits back down again.
And resumes watching Atobe play tennis, again.
Except this time he has company, which he is reminded of when he hears Shishido mutter, “Six games to six,” under his breath. It seems to take forever before he hears, “1-0.”
Then, beside him, Shishido suddenly laughs. “So uncool,” he says.
Sanada looks at him with raised eyebrows.
“Atobe.” Shishido waved a hand towards the courts. “He is meaning to drag the game out. He is trying to make you jealous.”
Sanada frowns. “What do you mean?” he asks.
Shishido huffs impatiently. “I said, Atobe is trying to make you jealous. Why do you think it has taken,” he looks at his watch. “Half an hour, for them to score four points?”
“Why would Atobe want to make me jealous?” asks Sanada, feeling confused.
Shishido shrugs. “Don’t ask me,” he says. “Who knows what is going on in that tiny brain of his.”
“How do you know?” Sanada asks.
Shishido points to Atobe. “Just watch him. Every time he does a difficult shot, or laughs at Echizen, or even just hits the ball across the net, he looks over at you, like he is making sure you are still watching. See look, he about to do it again.”
Sanada looks, and sure enough, when Atobe has finished smashing the ball across the net, Sanada can see him glance over at where they are sitting. Shishido gives him a little wave. “Told you so,” he says.
“That’s doesn’t mean he is trying to make me jealous,” says Sanada logically. “He didn’t look over at me when he was playing against Tezuka.” Although the games did last a long time.
“That’s because it was Tezuka he was playing,” says Shishido, like it is the easiest thing in the world to figure out. “Of course he isn’t going to interrupt their game just to look at you.”
Sanada frowns, and looks up just in time to see Atobe smirking at him.
“Atobe just scored,” Shishido tells him.
Sanada crosses his arms over his chest. “But why with Tezuka, and not Echizen?” he asks.
Shishido looks at him carefully. “Because with Atobe, it has always been Tezuka,” he says. “He is the only one Atobe always focuses on, and talks about, and actually makes an effort to call and arrange meetings with outside of school.”
He called me, Sanada thinks. But despite that, a cold feeling grows in his chest. “It has always been Tezuka,” he mutters to himself, but of course, Shishido hears.
“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding his head. “Seriously, though, I don’t know what it is about that guy. None of us have been able to figure it out.” He lowers his voice slightly. “Myself, I don’t really like Tezuka. I think Atobe is wasting his time chasing after him so much. Besides, I caught him and that kid on the courts a week ago. I mean seriously, if you don’t want to be caught…” he trails off, and mumbles something that sound suspiciously like, “…hit a tennis ball at your head, see how you like it…”
Sanada merely says, “is that so,” and watches as Atobe glances at him again. He wonders how he could have missed it in the first place, because Atobe really does look at him every few minutes.
“Atobe need someone better,” says Shishido, and for some reason he looks at Sanada as he says this. “He needs someone calm, and together, not all over the place. All over everyone.”
“Calmer than Tezuka?” Sanada asks dryly.
Shishido snorts. “Okay, well maybe not calmer, but you know what I mean.”
“Not really,” says Sanada.
“Well, you know, Atobe need to be with someone who is more like he is. He need someone who shares the same interests as him, and like the same stuff. Tezuka is too immature for him.”
Sanada raises his eyebrows. “Tezuka, immature?”
“Well…” Shishido appears to be struggling for words. “Not, immature, exactly, but like… you know, different. Like, not Tezuka-ish. Shit.” He pauses and glares at Atobe, before turning to look at Sanada again. “You should talk to him,” he says.
Sanada frowns again. “What for?” he asks.
“Well, you know, since you guys are going to be doubles partners and all, it might not be a bad thing to get to know him a bit,” says Shishido. “Anyways, you might find that you have a lot in common.”
He stands up and stretches. “Well I have to be going,” he says. “I promised Choutarou that I would meet him at six. I thought we would be done by then. Anyways, tell Atobe I left, okay?” He walks away, calling over his shoulder, “I am glad we had this chance to talk, Sanada.”
Sanada glares after his retreating back, and when he finally turns back to the court, Atobe is looking at him. Again. Except this time he is frowning slightly.
Needless to say, Sanada doesn’t play tennis that day.
But when Atobe calls the next day, and the next, and the day after, Sanada continues to go and sit on the bench, watching Atobe play against various people, but for some reason never finding time to play Sanada. He doesn’t know why he is still going, when now he knows that it will be the same thing every time. He keeps hearing Shishido telling him to talk to Atobe, and that he need someone better than Tezuka.
Sanada isn’t stupid. What with all the hints, and the side looks that Shishido had given him, Sanada knows Shishido was talking about him. And as Sanada stays up late at night, his usual bed time now being 11:30, and stares at his phone, he wonders why he isn’t more upset that Shishido was apparently trying to play match maker.
But after two weeks go by, Sanada is starting to get frustrated. He really wouldn’t mind giving up his free time so much if he was actually playing tennis, and practising with Atobe, instead of just watching.
So when Atobe calls that night, just after supper, Sanada has had enough.
“Sanada,” says Atobe cheerfully. “Just calling to make sure we are still on for tomorrow.”
And instead of replying with his usual, yes, Sanada says, “No. Sorry, Atobe, but I am not going to be there tomorrow.”
“What?” Atobe says, sounding surprised. “Why not? We always meet after school!”
Sanada could lie. He could say that he promised to help his mother in the garden. He could say that he has to stay late at school. He could even say that he is going downtown with Kirihara and Renji, even though he never does, whenever they ask him. But Sanada doesn’t approve of lying.
“I don’t want to,” he says, and for the first time, he hangs up on Atobe.
Sanada’s hands are shaking slightly as he sits down on his bed, but he feels proud that he is finally able to stop meeting Atobe every day.
“At least he probably won’t call again,” Sanada says to himself. “That’s good. It was annoying.” And now he won’t have to stay up, waiting for the call he knows that Atobe is going to make. “It was annoying,” he mutters.
And true, Atobe doesn’t call. But half an hour later, he show up on Sanada’s doorstep.
Sanada makes a mental note to give Kirihara 40 extra laps at tomorrows practise.
Atobe places his hands on his hips and glares at Sanada. “Why aren’t you coming to meet me tomorrow?” he asks loudly.
“What are you doing here?” asks Sanada, his hand tightening on the door handle. If Atobe is going to start coming around to his house…
“I asked you a question!” Atobe snaps.
“And I already gave you an answer,” says Sanada, trying to keep his voice calm.
“Not a good one,” says Atobe. “You don’t want to? What kind of answer is that? Why wouldn’t you want to?”
Sanada hears his mother walking down the hall towards them, no doubt drawn by Atobe’s loud voice. Quickly, he steps out the door and pulls it shut behind him. Atobe steps out of his way as he starts to walk towards the street, but he doesn’t stop talking.
“Where are you going, Sanada?” he calls. “We aren’t done talking yet! Come back here right now!”
Sanada turns and says, “We are talking somewhere else. Follow me.”
Atobe runs to catch up with him as he starts to walk again. “Where are we going?” he asks. “We aren’t going to play tennis now, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“No,” says Sanada shortly.
“Then what is it, Sanada? You know we could just meet tomorrow and play then,” says Atobe hopefully.
“I am not going to play tennis with you, Atobe,” says Sanada. He is almost amused that he is refusing the one thing he has been waiting for, for two weeks.
“But why not?” says Atobe angrily.
Sanada stops abruptly, and Atobe, who was behind him, stumbles into him. “Because we never play tennis, Atobe,” says Sanada, turning around so they are face to face. “Every time you want us to meet, there is someone else there. And every time you say ‘just a few more minutes,’ I end up waiting for hours. And we haven’t played once in two weeks. That’s why I am not going to ‘play tennis’ with you tomorrow.”
Atobe is quiet, and for a moment they just stand there staring at each other. Then Atobe frowns, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Why didn’t you stop me then?” he asks. “If it bothered you that much, then why didn’t you stop me?”
“… What?” asks Sanada, frowning. “What do you mean?”
Atobe sighs. “I am surprised that you didn’t figure it out,” he says. “I had all those people there on purpose. Tezuka, Echizen, Kabaji… I arranged for them all to meet me ahead of time.”
Sanada takes a step away from Atobe. “Why?” he snaps. “You knew I was there to practise with you, to get ready for the tournament. Or did that not mater to you?”
“No!” says Atobe quickly. “The first time was an accident. I didn’t mean for Tezuka to be there, but while I was waiting for you to show up, he arrived, and asked me if I wanted to play a game. And when you came, I was just going to finish up quickly. But… you just sat there. And after fifteen minutes, you still hadn’t moved. You didn’t even look annoyed that I was taking so long. So I continued to play. I guess… I wanted to see how long I could drag it out before you would interrupt.”
“And the other times?” asks Sanada, his voice low.
Atobe shrugs. “I don’t know why you just sat there, really. Every day I kept expecting you to finally snap, and drag me off the courts. But you just continued to sit there, looking so bored, and unaffected. I wanted to see how long it would take you before you did something.” He looks at Sanada with raised eyebrows. “You are very hard to predict, Sanada. I had you figured out all wrong. I really thought you would have done something before now.”
Sanada snarls wordlessly, and Atobe looks a bit worried. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says quickly. “I was just curious!”
“Really,” snaps Sanada. “Well that’s good to know.” He pushes past Atobe, intent on going back to his house, and definitely locking the door, but a hand grabbing his arm stops him.
“Wait,” says Atobe quietly. “Wait, Sanada. I’m sorry.”
Sanada pauses. Atobe’s hand is burning on his arm, but he doesn’t turn around.
“Please,” says Atobe. “Come play tennis with me tomorrow. There won’t be anyone else there this time.”
Sanada hesitates, thinking of all the other times Atobe has said that, but when his hand slides down Sanada’s arm and his fingers brush softly against his own before pulling away, and when Atobe says, “please,” one more time, Sanada nods sharply.
“Fine,” he says.
He jumps when he feels Atobe’s hands on his shoulders, and then there is a fleeting brush of lips on his, and Atobe pulls away, leaving Sanada staring in shock at him.
Atobe smiles slightly. “See you tomorrow, Sanada,” he says, and walks down the street, and Sanada just stands there and stares after him.
***
Much to Sanada’s surprise, it is only Atobe on the courts when he arrives. Suspiciously he peers into the bushes, and would have gone on to check the changing rooms, but at that moment Atobe sees him, and waves him over, a look of relief on his face.
“I thought you might not turn up after all,” say Atobe, laughing slightly, but it has a nervous edge to it, and his cheeks are slightly red. “I am glad you came.”
“Let’s get started,” says Sanada shortly, and he heads to his side of the courts. When he turns around, he sees the corners of Atobe’s mouth drooping downwards, and his eyebrows are drawn together, but he still serves the ball across the net, swift and powerful, just as Sanada remembers.
They play for hours, much longer than Tezuka and Atobe. There are stars in the sky when Atobe finally calls a halt to their game, and Sanada can’t help but feel pleased when Atobe stumbles over to the bench and collapses on it, downing the water in his bottle in a series of desperate gulps.
As he sits down beside him, Atobe turns and smiles at Sanada. “How was that?” he asks.
“Fine,” says Sanada, taking a sip of his own water.
“I beat you,” says Atobe, smirking.
They didn’t keep score, so Sanada just shrugs. “If you want to think that…”
Atobe laughs, even though Sanada doesn’t know why he finds that funny. They fall into a comfortable silence, and though Sanada closes his eyes, they snap open a second later when he feels Atobe’s hand on his bare arm. He turns his head and looks into Atobe’s eyes, and Atobe smiles again, softer this time.
“I think,” he says quietly, “that playing doubles won’t be so bad after all.”
“Really,” says Sanada.
“Yeah. The idea has… grown on me.”
“That’s good,” Sanada says, and when Atobe’s fingers tentatively intertwine with his own, he doesn’t pull his hand away.
Recipient's name: puccho
Rating: PG
Warnings: None, really.
Pairing(s): Sanada/Atobe
Author's notes: I hope you enjoy it puccho! Sorry if it isn't exactly what you were looking for, but I tried my best!
“I can’t believe that I was put in doubles!”
Sanada takes the phone away and stares at it for a second, and then lifts it slowly back to his ear, frowning slightly. “Atobe?”
“Of course. Who else would be calling you?”
“It’s eleven o’clock,” says Sanada.
Atobe sounds irritated. “So what?”
Sanada stands by his bed in his blue pyjamas, the phone in one hand and a glass of water in the other, and sighs. “At night, Atobe,” he says.
“So?” Atobe repeats. “I called your cell phone, didn’t I? It’s not like I disturbed anyone.”
Sanada sits down on his bed and places the water on his bed side table. “How did you even get my number?”
“Kirihara gave it to me,” Atobe says dismissively. “But that’s not important. Why aren’t you more upset about this?”
“Upset about what?” asks Sanada.
“What do you mean, upset about what?” Atobe asks. His voice has gone a pitch higher. “We were placed in doubles together! Doubles! I am a singles player. And not even doubles one, but doubles two! It’s outrageous!”
“Well seeing as we are both singles players, that’s probably why we are two, not one,” says Sanada tiredly.
“Your not helping, Sanada,” Atobe snaps. “My point is, I am an amazing singles player! And you are almost as good as me, so why didn’t they put that Kikumaru from Seigaku in doubles with… I don’t know… Sengoku. They at least are real doubles players. What could Kantoku be thinking?”
“Sengoku isn’t a doubles player,” say Sanada, his finger inching towards the off button. “Look, Atobe-“
“Is it just because of that stupid little game we played together?” continues Atobe, as though he doesn’t even hear Sanada. “If I had known it would land me here, I would never have suggested it!”
“Atobe…” Sanada looks at the clock. Ten minutes have gone by already. “Atobe, we both have school tomorrow. We will talk later.”
“Meet me at the street courts after school,” says Atobe suddenly.
“What?” Sanada frowns. “Why?”
“We have to practise together, don’t we?” asks Atobe impatiently. “I don’t know about you, but I want to win, and we can’t expect to just arrive a month later with out having done anything, and expect to win! We’d look ridiculous!”
Sanada sighs heavily. The worst part is that he knows that Atobe is right. “Fine. We’ll practice tomorrow. Four thirty.”
“Good.” There is a pause, then Atobe says, “You should really get some sleep, Sanada. You sound tired, and I don’t want you falling asleep on your feet tomorrow just because you stayed up to late. Ja.”
There is a click in Sanada’s ear, and he snaps his phone shut in annoyance, tossing it into his tennis bag.
***
At exactly four thirty sharp the next day, Sanada walks slowly up the steps to the street courts, thinking that maybe this won’t be so bad after all. It is just tennis, which Sanada enjoys, and it is what he would be doing anyways, if he weren’t on his way to meet Atobe.
He climbs the last step and enters the courts, and immediately sees that Atobe is already there. Only Atobe is already playing with someone, and when Sanada looks closer he sees Tezuka Kunimitsu on the other side of the net. Atobe is laughing as he hits the ball, and Tezuka looks as serious as ever, and as he smashes the ball out, he glances up and his eyes look over Atobe’s shoulder and lock with Sanada’s. Sanada nods in greeting, and Tezuka does the same.
Atobe looks around and see him too, and he smiles and waves Sanada over. “Ah, Sanada,” he says. “I am just going to finish my game with Tezuka, and then we can get started.”
“Alright,” says Sanada, and walks over to a bench, sitting down and placing his tennis bag on the ground beside him. It is a nice afternoon, and with the sun shining down on his face, Sanada feels quite relaxed for a change. Atobe and Tezuka have resumed their game in silence, at first the only sound coming from the ball being hit repeatedly over the net.
Sanada leans back against the bench, watching as first Atobe then Tezuka score points. He isn’t sure how long he has been sitting there, when he knows that suddenly, something has changed. At first Atobe and Tezuka were trying as hard as they could to beat each other; Sanada could see it in the way their muscles clenched as they dived for the ball, and sweat ran down their foreheads. The way their eyes burned, focusing solely on each other. But as the game goes on, and the score is 5-4, 5-5… 5-6, there is something different about how they are playing.
Sanada narrows his eyes as Atobe laughs out loud as one of Tezuka’s serves flies right past him.
“I haven’t seen that serve before, Tezuka,” say Atobe. “Is it new?”
“Yes,” says Tezuka, his voice deep and serious.
“Impressive,” Atobe says, raising a hand to his face as Tezuka raises his racquet again. “Very nice. I will return it though.”
Tezuka doesn’t say anything, but Sanada can see a small smile on his face as he serves.
Their game is different. Sanada can see it in the way Atobe is now smiling almost constantly, and his swings become flashier, more like he is trying to impress Tezuka, rather than win. Tezuka is smiling too, and he talks back to Atobe when he asks questions in between running for the ball. They fall into an easy, relaxed game, and neither of them are paying any attention to Sanada, who sits on the bench watching in fascination.
The street lamps surrounding the tennis courts click on before Sanada finally looks at his watch, and realized what time it is. 8:45pm. His parents were expecting him home a long time ago for dinner, it will take him at least half an hour to walk home, he has homework to do before he goes to bed at ten, and he and Atobe never played tennis.
Sanada stands up slowly, wincing as his body tells him exactly how long he spent sitting on the bench. As he picks up his tennis bag he realizes that Atobe and Tezuka are making their way over to him. He frowns slightly.
“Sanada!” says Atobe, sounding surprised. “You’re still here? Sorry we didn’t get to play today. Our game went on longer than expected, and it is too dark to play now.”
“Who won?” Sanada asks.
Atobe laughs slightly. “Oh, we stopped keeping score after a while, but it was probably me.”
“You never managed to return my serve,” says Tezuka. “It can’t have been you.”
Atobe looks slightly put out, but he still smiles, and says, “Well I came close. I almost had it that one time, didn’t I? And there were plenty of my shots you couldn’t return, Tezuka.”
Tezuka shrugs, but Sanada can see the corners of his lips twitching.
“I see…” says Sanada slowly.
“Well, Tezuka and I are going to go get coffee,” Atobe says. “How about we meet here tomorrow at the same time, and we can start practicing then?”
Sanada isn’t sure what else to do but nod.
“Good. See you tomorrow, then,” says Atobe, and waves, but he is already walking away.
Tezuka nods to Sanada, and says, “Goodnight,” before following Atobe.
As Sanada sits in bed that night, he half expects Atobe to call him, but as the clock ticks past first eleven, then twelve o’clock, he wonders what he is staying up for anyways, and turns off the light.
Instead, his phone rings the next morning when Sanada is on the bus on his way to school, and a quick glance at the call display tells him it is indeed Atobe, who sounds a little worse for wear when he tells Sanada good morning.
“I am just calling to make sure you remember to meet me after school,” he says to Sanada.
“I didn’t forget,” says Sanada, feeling slightly annoyed, even though he is yawning this morning because he stayed up too late.
“Ah, good,” says Atobe. “I am really looking forward to playing you.”
He hangs up, and Sanada to slowly close his phone, and feel his stomach flutter in… nervousness, he tells himself. He is just nervous that they won’t be ready in time to win their game.
***
It is a familiar, though unwelcome, sight that Sanada sees when he reaches the street courts that afternoon, although a part of him was expecting it.
And again, Atobe doesn’t notice him right away; in fact, not seeing Sanada until almost ten minutes later, when he pauses his game with Tezuka Kunimistu to get a drink of water.
“Sanada, when did you get here?” Atobe calls to where Sanada is again sitting on the bench. “Don’t worry, my game with Tezuka is almost over... I will just be a couple more minutes.”
Sanada sighs as Atobe, clearly not expecting an answer, resumes his game, and wonders if maybe he should just leave, seeing as the day seems to be going down the same path as yesterday. But Sanada doesn’t get up and leave. He doesn’t even pull out a book to read, or the homework he has to do, although he strongly considered it. Instead, Sanada sits on the bench, and watches Atobe play tennis.
And this time he actually watches, instead of just sitting and staring as a ball flies over a net. He realizes that he probably won’t get to play tennis today.
***
The third time Atobe phones Sanada, he is in class, and the phone goes off, ringing loudly in the silent room. Luckily the teacher has stepped out of the room for the moment, but all heads still turn towards where Sanada is sitting, who scowls as he reaches quickly into his bag and pulls out his phone, a light pink blush on his cheeks. “What do you want, Atobe,” he snaps, then winces for not lowering his voice as more heads turn and stare.
“Oh, Sanada,” says Atobe. “You sound upset. Did I interrupt something?”
“I am in the middle of class!” Sanada hisses.
“Well you shouldn’t have picked up the phone, then,” says Atobe, clearly not noticing the sound of Sanada grinding his teeth. “I could have just left a message. I didn’t mean to interrupt your class.”
Sanada rubs a hand over his eyes and hopes the teacher doesn’t come back anytime soon, and says, “Too late.”
“Oh, well, I just wanted to make sure you remembered to meet me today,” Atobe says. “I know the last couple of times haven’t worked out, but I know for a fact that Tezuka is going out of town today, so there won’t be any distractions.”
“Right,” says Sanada. “Actually, Atobe-“
“Great!” says Atobe, sounding pleased. “See you then!”
Sanada is getting tired of having Atobe hang up on him.
And true to his word, when Sanada again walks up the steps to the street court, Tezuka isn’t there to distract him with a never-ending tennis game.
But Echizen Ryoma is.
When Sanada sees the stupid white hat, and hears “mada mada dane!” coming from Echizen’s lips, he actually turns around to leave when a voice calls his name, making him pause.
“Oi Sanada! Over here!”
He turns, and sitting on the bench is a guy wearing a Hyoutei uniform, who is waving almost frantically at him.
Frowning slightly, Sanada makes his way over and sits down on the bench for the third day in a row. When he has more or less settled himself, the guy sticks out a hand, which Sanada takes, somewhat reluctantly.
“I’m Shishido,” says the guy. “It’s a good thing I caught you, or Atobe would have killed me.” Seeing Sanada’s puzzled look, he quickly explains, “Atobe dragged me along today so I could help you guys play doubles, seeing as how I am an expert, and everything.” He laughs, but Sanada just feels confused.
“Anyways,” Shishido continues, “we ended up arriving half an hour early, and so we were just going to play a game while we waited for you, but then that kid showed up, and of course he wanted to play Atobe right away. So I got stuck here with strict orders not to let you leave. Good thing to. Atobe is smarter than he looks.”
“I see,” says Sanada.
Shishido snorts, then calls loudly, “Hey Atobe! Sanada is here, so lets get started!”
On the courts, Atobe quickly looks around, and when he sees Sanada, he smiles, then says to Echizen, “Okay, brat, it’s been fun, but I have-“
“6 games to 5,” says Echizen, smirking.
“What!” Atobe says indignantly. “It was only 4-4!”
Echizen shrugs. “Well now it is only one game until I beat you. Sanada can wait that long.”
Shishido sighs loudly and leans back, slumping down against the bench. “Great,” he mumbles. “Now we really will be waiting here forever.”
Sanada picks up his bag. “Well,” he starts to say, but Shishido cuts him off.
“No way are you leaving me alone here,” he says. “If Atobe dragged me all the way out here for nothing, at least you can suffer with me. Besides, what if they finish, and Atobe want to play, but you aren’t here? I will be the one getting in trouble for it!”
Sanada glares at Shishido, but he can see Atobe watching him out of the corners of his eyes as he serves, so he sighs heavily and sits back down again.
And resumes watching Atobe play tennis, again.
Except this time he has company, which he is reminded of when he hears Shishido mutter, “Six games to six,” under his breath. It seems to take forever before he hears, “1-0.”
Then, beside him, Shishido suddenly laughs. “So uncool,” he says.
Sanada looks at him with raised eyebrows.
“Atobe.” Shishido waved a hand towards the courts. “He is meaning to drag the game out. He is trying to make you jealous.”
Sanada frowns. “What do you mean?” he asks.
Shishido huffs impatiently. “I said, Atobe is trying to make you jealous. Why do you think it has taken,” he looks at his watch. “Half an hour, for them to score four points?”
“Why would Atobe want to make me jealous?” asks Sanada, feeling confused.
Shishido shrugs. “Don’t ask me,” he says. “Who knows what is going on in that tiny brain of his.”
“How do you know?” Sanada asks.
Shishido points to Atobe. “Just watch him. Every time he does a difficult shot, or laughs at Echizen, or even just hits the ball across the net, he looks over at you, like he is making sure you are still watching. See look, he about to do it again.”
Sanada looks, and sure enough, when Atobe has finished smashing the ball across the net, Sanada can see him glance over at where they are sitting. Shishido gives him a little wave. “Told you so,” he says.
“That’s doesn’t mean he is trying to make me jealous,” says Sanada logically. “He didn’t look over at me when he was playing against Tezuka.” Although the games did last a long time.
“That’s because it was Tezuka he was playing,” says Shishido, like it is the easiest thing in the world to figure out. “Of course he isn’t going to interrupt their game just to look at you.”
Sanada frowns, and looks up just in time to see Atobe smirking at him.
“Atobe just scored,” Shishido tells him.
Sanada crosses his arms over his chest. “But why with Tezuka, and not Echizen?” he asks.
Shishido looks at him carefully. “Because with Atobe, it has always been Tezuka,” he says. “He is the only one Atobe always focuses on, and talks about, and actually makes an effort to call and arrange meetings with outside of school.”
He called me, Sanada thinks. But despite that, a cold feeling grows in his chest. “It has always been Tezuka,” he mutters to himself, but of course, Shishido hears.
“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding his head. “Seriously, though, I don’t know what it is about that guy. None of us have been able to figure it out.” He lowers his voice slightly. “Myself, I don’t really like Tezuka. I think Atobe is wasting his time chasing after him so much. Besides, I caught him and that kid on the courts a week ago. I mean seriously, if you don’t want to be caught…” he trails off, and mumbles something that sound suspiciously like, “…hit a tennis ball at your head, see how you like it…”
Sanada merely says, “is that so,” and watches as Atobe glances at him again. He wonders how he could have missed it in the first place, because Atobe really does look at him every few minutes.
“Atobe need someone better,” says Shishido, and for some reason he looks at Sanada as he says this. “He needs someone calm, and together, not all over the place. All over everyone.”
“Calmer than Tezuka?” Sanada asks dryly.
Shishido snorts. “Okay, well maybe not calmer, but you know what I mean.”
“Not really,” says Sanada.
“Well, you know, Atobe need to be with someone who is more like he is. He need someone who shares the same interests as him, and like the same stuff. Tezuka is too immature for him.”
Sanada raises his eyebrows. “Tezuka, immature?”
“Well…” Shishido appears to be struggling for words. “Not, immature, exactly, but like… you know, different. Like, not Tezuka-ish. Shit.” He pauses and glares at Atobe, before turning to look at Sanada again. “You should talk to him,” he says.
Sanada frowns again. “What for?” he asks.
“Well, you know, since you guys are going to be doubles partners and all, it might not be a bad thing to get to know him a bit,” says Shishido. “Anyways, you might find that you have a lot in common.”
He stands up and stretches. “Well I have to be going,” he says. “I promised Choutarou that I would meet him at six. I thought we would be done by then. Anyways, tell Atobe I left, okay?” He walks away, calling over his shoulder, “I am glad we had this chance to talk, Sanada.”
Sanada glares after his retreating back, and when he finally turns back to the court, Atobe is looking at him. Again. Except this time he is frowning slightly.
Needless to say, Sanada doesn’t play tennis that day.
But when Atobe calls the next day, and the next, and the day after, Sanada continues to go and sit on the bench, watching Atobe play against various people, but for some reason never finding time to play Sanada. He doesn’t know why he is still going, when now he knows that it will be the same thing every time. He keeps hearing Shishido telling him to talk to Atobe, and that he need someone better than Tezuka.
Sanada isn’t stupid. What with all the hints, and the side looks that Shishido had given him, Sanada knows Shishido was talking about him. And as Sanada stays up late at night, his usual bed time now being 11:30, and stares at his phone, he wonders why he isn’t more upset that Shishido was apparently trying to play match maker.
But after two weeks go by, Sanada is starting to get frustrated. He really wouldn’t mind giving up his free time so much if he was actually playing tennis, and practising with Atobe, instead of just watching.
So when Atobe calls that night, just after supper, Sanada has had enough.
“Sanada,” says Atobe cheerfully. “Just calling to make sure we are still on for tomorrow.”
And instead of replying with his usual, yes, Sanada says, “No. Sorry, Atobe, but I am not going to be there tomorrow.”
“What?” Atobe says, sounding surprised. “Why not? We always meet after school!”
Sanada could lie. He could say that he promised to help his mother in the garden. He could say that he has to stay late at school. He could even say that he is going downtown with Kirihara and Renji, even though he never does, whenever they ask him. But Sanada doesn’t approve of lying.
“I don’t want to,” he says, and for the first time, he hangs up on Atobe.
Sanada’s hands are shaking slightly as he sits down on his bed, but he feels proud that he is finally able to stop meeting Atobe every day.
“At least he probably won’t call again,” Sanada says to himself. “That’s good. It was annoying.” And now he won’t have to stay up, waiting for the call he knows that Atobe is going to make. “It was annoying,” he mutters.
And true, Atobe doesn’t call. But half an hour later, he show up on Sanada’s doorstep.
Sanada makes a mental note to give Kirihara 40 extra laps at tomorrows practise.
Atobe places his hands on his hips and glares at Sanada. “Why aren’t you coming to meet me tomorrow?” he asks loudly.
“What are you doing here?” asks Sanada, his hand tightening on the door handle. If Atobe is going to start coming around to his house…
“I asked you a question!” Atobe snaps.
“And I already gave you an answer,” says Sanada, trying to keep his voice calm.
“Not a good one,” says Atobe. “You don’t want to? What kind of answer is that? Why wouldn’t you want to?”
Sanada hears his mother walking down the hall towards them, no doubt drawn by Atobe’s loud voice. Quickly, he steps out the door and pulls it shut behind him. Atobe steps out of his way as he starts to walk towards the street, but he doesn’t stop talking.
“Where are you going, Sanada?” he calls. “We aren’t done talking yet! Come back here right now!”
Sanada turns and says, “We are talking somewhere else. Follow me.”
Atobe runs to catch up with him as he starts to walk again. “Where are we going?” he asks. “We aren’t going to play tennis now, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“No,” says Sanada shortly.
“Then what is it, Sanada? You know we could just meet tomorrow and play then,” says Atobe hopefully.
“I am not going to play tennis with you, Atobe,” says Sanada. He is almost amused that he is refusing the one thing he has been waiting for, for two weeks.
“But why not?” says Atobe angrily.
Sanada stops abruptly, and Atobe, who was behind him, stumbles into him. “Because we never play tennis, Atobe,” says Sanada, turning around so they are face to face. “Every time you want us to meet, there is someone else there. And every time you say ‘just a few more minutes,’ I end up waiting for hours. And we haven’t played once in two weeks. That’s why I am not going to ‘play tennis’ with you tomorrow.”
Atobe is quiet, and for a moment they just stand there staring at each other. Then Atobe frowns, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Why didn’t you stop me then?” he asks. “If it bothered you that much, then why didn’t you stop me?”
“… What?” asks Sanada, frowning. “What do you mean?”
Atobe sighs. “I am surprised that you didn’t figure it out,” he says. “I had all those people there on purpose. Tezuka, Echizen, Kabaji… I arranged for them all to meet me ahead of time.”
Sanada takes a step away from Atobe. “Why?” he snaps. “You knew I was there to practise with you, to get ready for the tournament. Or did that not mater to you?”
“No!” says Atobe quickly. “The first time was an accident. I didn’t mean for Tezuka to be there, but while I was waiting for you to show up, he arrived, and asked me if I wanted to play a game. And when you came, I was just going to finish up quickly. But… you just sat there. And after fifteen minutes, you still hadn’t moved. You didn’t even look annoyed that I was taking so long. So I continued to play. I guess… I wanted to see how long I could drag it out before you would interrupt.”
“And the other times?” asks Sanada, his voice low.
Atobe shrugs. “I don’t know why you just sat there, really. Every day I kept expecting you to finally snap, and drag me off the courts. But you just continued to sit there, looking so bored, and unaffected. I wanted to see how long it would take you before you did something.” He looks at Sanada with raised eyebrows. “You are very hard to predict, Sanada. I had you figured out all wrong. I really thought you would have done something before now.”
Sanada snarls wordlessly, and Atobe looks a bit worried. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says quickly. “I was just curious!”
“Really,” snaps Sanada. “Well that’s good to know.” He pushes past Atobe, intent on going back to his house, and definitely locking the door, but a hand grabbing his arm stops him.
“Wait,” says Atobe quietly. “Wait, Sanada. I’m sorry.”
Sanada pauses. Atobe’s hand is burning on his arm, but he doesn’t turn around.
“Please,” says Atobe. “Come play tennis with me tomorrow. There won’t be anyone else there this time.”
Sanada hesitates, thinking of all the other times Atobe has said that, but when his hand slides down Sanada’s arm and his fingers brush softly against his own before pulling away, and when Atobe says, “please,” one more time, Sanada nods sharply.
“Fine,” he says.
He jumps when he feels Atobe’s hands on his shoulders, and then there is a fleeting brush of lips on his, and Atobe pulls away, leaving Sanada staring in shock at him.
Atobe smiles slightly. “See you tomorrow, Sanada,” he says, and walks down the street, and Sanada just stands there and stares after him.
***
Much to Sanada’s surprise, it is only Atobe on the courts when he arrives. Suspiciously he peers into the bushes, and would have gone on to check the changing rooms, but at that moment Atobe sees him, and waves him over, a look of relief on his face.
“I thought you might not turn up after all,” say Atobe, laughing slightly, but it has a nervous edge to it, and his cheeks are slightly red. “I am glad you came.”
“Let’s get started,” says Sanada shortly, and he heads to his side of the courts. When he turns around, he sees the corners of Atobe’s mouth drooping downwards, and his eyebrows are drawn together, but he still serves the ball across the net, swift and powerful, just as Sanada remembers.
They play for hours, much longer than Tezuka and Atobe. There are stars in the sky when Atobe finally calls a halt to their game, and Sanada can’t help but feel pleased when Atobe stumbles over to the bench and collapses on it, downing the water in his bottle in a series of desperate gulps.
As he sits down beside him, Atobe turns and smiles at Sanada. “How was that?” he asks.
“Fine,” says Sanada, taking a sip of his own water.
“I beat you,” says Atobe, smirking.
They didn’t keep score, so Sanada just shrugs. “If you want to think that…”
Atobe laughs, even though Sanada doesn’t know why he finds that funny. They fall into a comfortable silence, and though Sanada closes his eyes, they snap open a second later when he feels Atobe’s hand on his bare arm. He turns his head and looks into Atobe’s eyes, and Atobe smiles again, softer this time.
“I think,” he says quietly, “that playing doubles won’t be so bad after all.”
“Really,” says Sanada.
“Yeah. The idea has… grown on me.”
“That’s good,” Sanada says, and when Atobe’s fingers tentatively intertwine with his own, he doesn’t pull his hand away.