Part 3

Standing behind and to one side of the teacher's desk, Akaya watched the students file into the classroom through half-lidded eyes. He was exhausted, and it showed despite his best efforts; the best he could manage was to try to look bored rather than sleepy. So much for setting the right dangerous impression on his first day.

Once the class was settled and the bell had rung, the teacher would introduce him, as if the rest of the students were incapable of reading his name written large in chalk on the board behind him. Then if the anime he'd seen were any indication, he'd have to give some stupid little speech about himself before he was assigned a seat and finally got to sit down.

Looking around the classroom and seeing it full of people he didn't know was a new and unsettling experience for him. Rikkaidai Fuzoku was part of a feeder school system that started in pre-school and ended at the university. Kids took the difficult entrance exams at around four or five, and from that moment on they were with the same group of people day after day, year after year. The only time you got new classmates was when you changed school levels, such as going from junior high to high school, and even then you'd probably at least seen them around the halls. Rarely, very rarely, someone new would pass the fantastically hard entrance exams at a later level, but that was an exeption that proved the rule.

Well, there was one person he knew, he amended as he saw Ibu Shinji staring at him from a back corner, lips moving as he muttered quietly to himself. Akaya flashed him a predatory grin, and the blue-haired boy's eyes narrowed. At least there didn't seem to be any sign of Kamio, though there was still five minutes to go before class started.

Kamio dashed up the hall, cursing under his breath as he felt the last few minutes before the beginning of the school day drain away like water. He’d overslept, sleeping right through his alarm, and the only reason he’d even woken up was because his mother had finally knocked on his door, wondering why he wasn’t up yet. He reached the door of the classroom just as the bell rang and skidded to a stop, entering the class to an irritated look from the teacher.

He was about to walk to his desk when he spotted the boy standing next to the teacher’s desk and stopped short, staring for a moment. Oh great, he’s in our class TOO? he thought in exasperation. Was he ever going to get away from Kirihara Akaya?

Favouring the boy with a muted glare that told Kirihara he was still mad at the terms they had parted on the night before, he turned and stalked to his desk next to Shinji.

Unusually quiet for a moment, Shinji looked back and forth between his best friend and the newest addition to their class. Shinji was a genius, something most people outside the tennis team forgot, and he was very observant. He didn't miss the glare Kamio gave Kirihara, nor the wicked grin Kirihara had flashed him in return. That wasn't unusual, of course. But Kirihara had been watching the classroom door like a hawk the entire time he'd been standing there, and getting more and more tense as the class got closer to starting.

And then, surprisingly, instead of tensing up further when Kamio appeared, he'd relaxed marginally and finally looked away from the door.

"He was watching for you," Shinji informed his best friend in a low, surprised murmur. "He was hoping you'd be in this class. And you seem more upset with him now than you were when you left the restaraunt. Did something happen on your way home last night?"

Kamio’s head whipped around and he stared at Shinji in surprise. “He was watching for me?” he whispered. “I don’t know why he’d do that. After I left you, I found him working himself to exhaustion at that crappy little court around the corner from my house. I let him come home with me so he could warm up.” He pursed his lips. “He seemed to be trying to make nice, but then he turned into an asshole all of a sudden and left when we were getting tired.”

Shinji didn't get a chance to answer, because at that moment the class rep called for them all to stand and bow to the teacher. He nodded at Kamio to let him know that they'd talk later, and started scribbling randomly in his notebook as soon as they sat down. It was the way he'd developed of letting his rambling thoughts express themselves without getting in trouble for talking in class.

At the front of the room, Akaya had tensed up again, anticipating having to make his little speech. Seeing that Kamio was also in the class had made him feel oddly better, maybe because it meant there was at least someone else he knew there. It also meant he was going to have all sorts of opportunities to needle the redhead, which was so much fun. At least, it was when he could keep himself under control.

He never used to get to me like this, he reminded himself, glancing at Kamio as the teacher enthusiastically introduced him. I used to be able to just laugh it off and turn his anger against him. I guess with everything else in my life this unstable, I'm just not reacting well to anything.

Kamio struggled to keep his face neutral as the teacher introduced Kirihara. He groaned inwardly as the teacher indicated the seat just next to him – the next pair of desks over from he and Shinji, and only a few feet away – for Kirihara to sit. He should have known. It was obvious that the universe was trying to throw them together, and drive him crazy. At least Shinji was right next to him, so he wasn’t going to end up partnered with Kirihara on projects and class work. Not to mention that the only one close enough to elbow him was Shinji. The gap between the columns of desks was too wide.

Seeing Kamio glaring again when Akaya was assigned to sit near him, Akaya grinned and made a split second decision before he started his little introduction speech. Kamio had accused him last night of always wanting to make people dislike him. While that was true enough for potential rivals, especially in tennis, Akaya could be really damn charming if he put his mind to it.

He proceeded to put his mind to it, and by the end of his introduction half the girls in the class were swooning over him and the rest were whispering excitedly to each other. As he walked back through the rows to his new seat, he caught more than a few exclamations over his pretty green eyes, his well-built body, and his flashy smile and easy confidence.

"See?" he murmured in amusement towards Kamio and Ibu as he sat down. "I can play nice when I feel like it."

Kamio was staring at him in open astonishment, his jaw on the floor and a slight flush on his cheeks that didn’t seem to be from anger. Though he’d die before he admitted it, Kirihara’s speech had had almost as much of an effect on him as it had on the girls. Stop it, Akira. Just STOP IT! He’s just doing it on purpose. He. Is. Not. That. Nice. He’s just pretending to get a rise out of me. AGAIN.

The glare returned with full force as Kirihara sat down and he looked away pointedly, focusing on the teacher as she began the lesson.

As the teacher droned on about the day's math lesson, Akaya mostly tuned her out and sat doodling in his notebook. He'd never cared very much about his grades, doing just well enough on the tests to be passed up to the next level of schooling each year. His focus was and always had been tennis, not academics. He might not be considered a true tensai like Yanagi or Seigaku's Fuji, but you didn't get into Rikkaidai without being a genius of some kind. He'd study the lessons on his own in the books, later, and get twice as much out of that as he would of paying attention to the classes.

Instead he concentrated on analyzing the very interesting look on Kamio's face as he'd sat down next to the redhead, before the other boy clammed up again and went back to glaring. Not nearly as oblivious to me as he'd like to be, he concluded with a private smirk. This will be fun after all. If I can just keep my distance, not get too close to him or allow him to make me angry.

On Kamio's other side, Shinji was also ignoring the lesson in favour of giving his best friend curious looks. Kirihara had been fairly impressive in his ability to play up to the crowd, but he wouldn't have expected Kamio to react to the green-eyed boy's blatant charm. "Are you feeling okay?" he finally asked his friend.

Kamio had been staring blankly at the teacher, not hearing a word she said, and continuing to berate himself about the way he had reacted to Kirihara. So what if he pretends to be charming? I know what he’s really like, so why am I REACTING to it like some lovesick schoolgirl? He was so absorbed in his own thoughts, he was totally oblivious to the looks he was getting from both sides. At Shinji’s soft question, he jumped visibly, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” he whispered.

"I thought you might have a fever," Shinji explained. "That would account for the flush on your cheeks, and the odd look on your face, and the fact that you're not paying any attention even though you haven't snuck your headphones on yet, but if you're not feverish then I guess..."

The babble cut off abruptly as the teacher gave Shinji a sharp look, and he subsided. Kamio wouldn't find out what conclusion his friend had come to until lunch time. On his other side, Kirihara had also been listening to Shinji ramble, and he gave them both a highly amused ironic grin.

Kamio studiously ignored Kirihara and tried to ignore Shinji, though his mind turned his friend’s words over and over again, worrying at them and wondering what he was going to say. “I’m not sick,” he managed to hiss when the teacher’s back was turned. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Finally, the lunch bell rang and the teacher departed. Kamio shoved his books quickly into his bag and pulled out his lunch, in a rather battered-looking bento box. He bent over it and began to eat, hoping that Shinji wouldn’t decide to try to finish his thought while Kirihara was right there, and equally hoping that Kirihara wouldn’t take the opportunity of the general chatter to do anything nasty. He was glad to see out of the corner of his eye, that a small crowd of females was hurrying up to the new boy.

Akaya had been drifting in a daydream when the bell rang and startled him. He watched as Kamio and Shinji both pulled out bento and started eating right there at their desks. Apparantly the Fudoumine team didn't meet at lunch as the Rikkaidai Regulars always had. Remembering the fun and laughter of those lunches, Akaya's eyes narrowed against the sensation of loss. He needed to get out of here and find somewhere private to eat.

He'd hesitated just a bit too long, and suddenly his desk was surrounded by the most curious and forward of the girls in their class just as he was standing up. "Kirihara-kun, you can't leave," one of them simpered at him. "We want to get to know you better! Come sit with us!"

Well, that was one way to escape his memories. He gave them his most charming smile, green eyes sparkling and making a few of them sigh. "Ladies, nothing would please me more than being able to enjoy your company," he said. He loved playing with the heads of fangirls, especially his own; Yanagi had once compared it to a cat toying with a mouse. They were nearly as much fun to tease and fluster as Kamio was, come to that.

The thought made him cast a wicked grin at the redhead, who seemed to be doing his best to ignore Akaya's existence. Laughing, Akaya allowed himself to be dragged off to the other side of the room by the girls, flirting outrageously with them as he went.

Kamio couldn’t help it, he watched Kirihara’s every move, trying not to be obvious about it. He’s going to break all of their hearts, he thought with a fierceness that was NOT jealousy. Look at him. He’s like a cat with a whole family of mice. He ground his teeth, clenching his chopsticks hard.

"Your teeth are squeaking," Shinji observed, his voice calm and his eyes filled with his usual dreamy curiosity. "You're grinding them. You don't do that very often anymore, not since Tachibana made the seniors stop picking on us." He followed Kamio's gaze to the other side of the room, where Kirihara was laughing and playing up to the girls. More of their classmates had joined the little circle around the transfer student, including a few of the other boys. "He's very good at that. I wonder if he takes acting lessons. Why are you so upset that he's making friends?" His curious eyes returned to Kamio.

The redhead blinked, and turned to look at his best friend incredulously. “Shinji,” he said, dropping his voice to a hiss. “That’s Kirihara Akaya over there. Do you really think he’s being nice because he’s nice?” He gestured towards the knot of girls fawning over him. “I’m not saying he’s going to start beating them up, but he’s going to break all of their hearts. And he’s doing it on purpose.”

Shrugging, Shinji gave his attention to the food in front of him. "I said I wondered if he takes acting lessons. I know it's not real. I wonder if anyone ever sees what he's really like? Maybe the other Rikkaidai players. I wonder if I asked one of them what he's like when he's relaxed, if they'd tell me?" He was genuinely curious now. Shinji enjoyed studying the people around him, they were all so fascinating and complex. Kirihara more than most.

“He’s better when he’s relaxed,” Kamio said before his brain caught up with his mouth. He sighed and elaborated, knowing Shinji would ask. “He’s pretty normal when he’s relaxed, actually. He still teases a lot, but not in a malicious way. And he has a totally different smile.”

"Really?" Interest now truly piqued, Shinji looked up to unabashadly stare at Kirihara. "Right now he has a very charming smile, but I don't think it's real. Usually he smirks and it's very condescending. He can also smile in a predatory way, it makes most people afraid of him. What's his relaxed smile like?"

Across the room Akaya looked up and saw Shinji openly staring at him. He winked at the blue-haired boy, who merely blinked back at him and looked fascinated. He glanced over at Kamio, who was looking flustered and put-upon - and who was also staring at him, or more accurately glaring at him. This time Akaya's wink was accompanied by a fleeting evil smirk, gone too fast for any of his newfound 'friends' to catch it.

“I don’t remember,” Kamio said, turning quickly back to his lunch and beginning to polish it off. “It was more genuine, and it wasn’t evil or condescending.” He wondered whether Shinji even realized how blatant he was being. Probably not, Shinji was ALWAYS blatant.

"Hmm, interesting," Shinji commented, and it was. Kirihara had returned to playing the crowd, but the sardonic tilt to the edges of his otherwise charming smiles told Shinji he was well aware of being watched from their corner. "I wonder if I'll ever get to see it. I wonder why he showed it to you." He blinked as a thought struck him and made many disparate other thoughts suddenly make sense. It happened that way sometimes. "Akira, I think he likes you."

Kamio’s head jerked up and he stared at Shinji once again in utter amazement. “What gives you that idea? Listen, we were joking around a little last night, and we were talking about Rikkaidai, and talking about Yukimura forcing him to play doubles and stuff, and for a few moments, he was actually acting like he wasn’t trying too hard. I don’t think he meant to show me anything.”

Shaking his head, Shinji turned his stare from Kirihara to his best friend. "He seemed to enjoy provoking you at the selection camp, but then he turned around and was defending you when everyone accused you of pushing him down the stairs. If he'd really wanted to be nasty to you, that was a perfect opportunity. He chose to come to Fudoumine, even though he knew there would be a lot of bad feeling towards him here. He relaxed and joked around with you last night. He was hoping you'd be in this class this morning, though I don't think he realized it. And he's been deliberately teasing you ever since, just to see you flustered."

Tapping his chopsticks against his bottom lip for a moment in thought, Shinji finally nodded. "It's the only thing that makes sense. He likes you."

Kamio went as red as his hair, sputtering. “You…you’ve lost your mind, Shinji!” he exclaimed.

Catching a glimpse of Kamio's face when he checked to see if Ibu was still staring, Akaya was actually startled into a laugh at the sight of the red-faced and sputtering junior. Luckily one of the girls had just made a joke, and everyone thought he was just laughing at that.

I wonder what the hell Ibu said to set him off like that, he thought, continuing to watch from the corner of his eye. This was highly entertaining. Something about me, I'm sure, but why the blush? For his part, Ibu looked quietly amused as well, and glanced back at Kirihara with a sort of conspiratory smile. Akaya returned it with an evil glint in his eye, raising an eyebrow to ask what had set the redhead off? Ibu shrugged as if to say he didn't know either, and Akaya laughed again.

Kamio didn’t miss the wordless communication going on between his best friend and his…whatever Kirihara was. Growling, he turned his face away from both of them, packing up his empty bento with short, sharp movements and wishing the teacher would return so class could begin again.

For his part, Shinji did have some suspicions about the source of his best friend's embarrassment, but he kept them to himself. Long familiarity allowed him to predict and understand Kamio's often mercurial moods, but equally long experience had taught him that it wasn't always wise to share his insights with his friend. Kamio had some odd areas he was in denial about, and he didn't appreciate anyone making him question that denial.

"Whatever else happens, tennis practice is going to be interesting today," he murmured instead. "I assume you agreed to let him come play?"

Kamio sighed, glad that Shinji was at least moving on to a new topic, even if it still concerned Kirihara. “Yeah, today is the first test. He promised not to hurt anyone, so I’m going to let him play. I’m not going to cut him any slack, though. I don’t want him hurting anyone, or scaring any of the new players out of the game. If he scares people off, Fudoumine won’t have any kind of team next year.”

"If he stays, maybe he'll be able to help you build a training program," Shinji pointed out. He was Kamio's vice-captain, but he always felt a little guilty that he had no more coaching experience to bring to the team than Kamio did. Kamio's pride didn't easily let him ask for help, but Shinji at least had frequently gone to Tachibana for advice in the first few months after they took charge of the team. "Rikkaidai has a very successful program after all, and he was their captain before he left, so he must have some ideas."

A thoughtful look crossed Kamio’s face. “That’s true,” he said. “I was trying to model our strategy after Seigaku, but I don’t even know what Rikkaidai’s is. Maybe we can take the best ideas from each and come up with something really great!” His eyes lit up with excitement and he grinned at Shinji.

Shinji smiled back at him, caught up as he always was by Kamio's enthusiasm. Theirs was a good partnership and friendship; Kamio provided the ideas and excitement, while Shinji was the quiet voice of reason keeping Kamio from going too far out on a ledge. Something told him that Kirihara was going to upset that long-standing balance between them, though. The wild-haired boy tended to bring chaos with him wherever he went, and Shinji and Kamio were no more immune to the effect than anyone else.

Before he could comment on it though, the warning bell rang and with a disappointed noise, the cluster of students around Kirihara began to break up. Their history teacher would arrive shortly, and classes would begin again.

Not in the least loath to leave his pack of admirers and their inane chatter - though he was careful not to show that and in fact to convince them all he was very disappointed that lunch was over - Akaya made his way back to his own desk and dropped gracefully into the chair. "So what had you so red-faced and sputtering?" he asked Kamio in amusement. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone but me get you that worked up."

“Nothing,” Kamio snapped, his eyes narrowing at Kirihara, instantly in a bad mood again. He looked away, struggling to recapture that fleeting moment of excitement. “Kirihara,” he began in a quieter tone. “I was wondering—“ he cut off as the teacher entered. Damnit, he thought as he stood up and bowed. I’ll have to ask him later.

By the end of the day Shinji's notebook was full of his stream-of-thought scribbles, mostly centering on Kirihara and Kamio's odd reaction to him. Probably just as well Akira can't read my handwriting, he acknowledged to himself with a secretive grin as the bell rang and he closed the book.

On the other side of Kamio, Akaya jerked out of the half-doze he'd been fighting off - Japanese literature class always put him to sleep. He'd been mildly hopeful that Fudoumine's lit teacher would at least have a better reading voice than Rikkaidai's, but if anything the man was worse. Grimacing, he gave a lazy stretch that had half the girls sighing, and glanced over at the other two tennis players. "So do we go straight to practice, or what?" he wanted to know.

Kamio nodded, shoving his books into his bag. “Yeah, it’s right after class,” he said. “Come on, we can show you where the changerooms are,” he added, offering Kirihara a faint smile. He’d spent the rest of the afternoon calming himself down and considering how exactly he was going to integrate Kirihara into his plans for the training session. Of course, first he had to get the team – particularly the rest of last season’s regulars – to accept the new addition. He hoped he was right that the worst grudge being kept over Tachibana’s injury had been his own.

Akaya nodded and grabbed his racquet bag, which he'd wedged under his desk. Since he didn't have any space in the tennis clubroom yet, he had nowhere to keep his gear while he was in class. He paused as he caught sight of the familiar Rikkaidai logo splashed across the side of it; he hadn't really noticed or thought about it, though it had at least occured to him to bring a set of casual tennis clothes rather than his uniform.

Shrugging to himself, he stood and slung the bag over his shoulder. Let the Fudoumine players bitch about it if they wanted, it was the only bag he had. Presumably if he made the Fudoumine Regulars he'd get a new bag and uniform, though how he was going to pay for them he had no idea. "At least you guys have decent-looking jerseys," he commented to take his mind off it. "I'd never have admitted it to Yukimura, but when I saw the Rikkaidai uniforms I damn near rethought my choice of schools."

Laughing, Kamio couldn’t help but nod. “They’d be nice if it weren’t for the colour,” he said. “I like ours.” He glanced at Shinji to see if he was coming as he began to walk towards the door. “Uh, Kirihara,” he said a little awkwardly. “I was wondering if you’d do me a favour, sometime.”

Akaya had been following, with Shinji behind him, but at that he stopped dead in the doorway and stared at Kamio. He recovered from his shock quickly enough, regaining his faintly bored expression and moving forward again. "You? Asking me for a favour? Either the world is coming to an end, or we should be taking you to the nurse's office rather than the courts," he replied flippantly.

Way to make me feel even more nervous than I already am, Kamio thought to himself irritably as he shot a dirty look at Kirihara. “It’s a tennis favour,” he bit out. He took a breath. “I want you to work with me on figuring out the best way to select a new regulars team. I was going to use the Seigaku method, with the monthly selection tournaments, but I thought Rikkaidai might have another way and we could put our ideas together and come up with the best way.” He said all of this quickly, in one breath, wanting to get it all out before Kirihara started mocking him again.

There was silence for a long moment as they walked, broken only by Shinji's quiet muttering. For once there was neither amusement nor derision on Kirihara's face; his expression told Kamio he was actually giving it serious thought.

Tennis was, after all, the one and only thing Akaya took seriously. And pretty much also the only area of his life where he would ever put himself out for someone else's benefit, being the only thing where 'team spirit' actually meant something to him. Some had - loudly in Marui's case - questioned Yukimura's wisdom in appointing the somewhat unstable former Singles Two player as the new captain, but Akaya had actually adapted to the responsibility well.

"Our selection system won't work for you, unless you've got a damn sight more new people signed up than I think you do," he finally said aloud. "Rikkaidai has a huge tennis club, almost as big as Hyoutei's. Seigaku's ranking system will work better for you, though you'll have to adjust for the fact that you still don't really have enough people to do it properly. Where I might be able to help you is with training menus to bring the newbies up to speed."

Oh, Kamio thought, slightly disappointed, until the thought of Kirihara helping with the training menus caught up with him. He turned to look at the other boy. “That would be great,” he said with a smile. “Shinji and I don’t really know what we’re doing when it comes to training other people, to be honest. We know what we did, but not everyone is going to be like us. Thank you.” He cursed inwardly as the expression of gratitude caused a slight flush to come to his cheeks – AGAIN. Why do I keep BLUSHING, damnit? he thought, though Shinji’s words about Kirihara liking him echoed in his ears.

"Mind you, they're not gonna like anything I suggest," Akaya added, the wicked sparkle returning to his eyes as he lost the serious expression and smirked. "Frankly, if you train them half as hard as you should to get them into decent shape for next year, you're gonna lose the majority of them. Glory-seekers don't want to work, they just want to be able to wear the uniform and impress other people." He shrugged. "But the ten percent or so who hang on will be the dedicated ones, and why the hell would you want anyone in the club who isn't dedicated anyway?"

The very thought was foreign to Akaya. In Rikkaidai, where the best of the best gathered, they didn't need a cuthroat system like Hyoutei had. Anyone who didn't have the dedication and fortitude to be the best dropped out of the club in the first week or two, daunted by the excrutiating training menu. But he knew that people with that sort of drive and determination didn't tend to end up in public schools. The current Fudoumine Regulars team being the exception that very much proved the rule.

Kamio sighed softly, his shoulders slumping. “If it weren’t for the fact that ten percent of what we have is only two people, I’d be all for this plan,” he said mournfully. “Somehow we need to take twenty inexperienced people and turn them into eight national level regulars for next year. We’ll probably attract another twenty next year if we do well again, but it still won’t be enough.”

"You do realize that anyone in second year now isn't going to be able to play next year any more than we are?" Akaya pointed out, eyes narrowing. Shinji watched him with interest. Like this, focused on solving a problem rather than taunting the people around him, he thought he could finally see why Rikkaidai had put up with Kirihara. He had a lot of potential.

Akaya was - rather politely of him, he thought - not mentioning to Kamio that what he wanted was basically impossible. People had said it was 'impossible' for Tachibana Kippei to take six enthusiastic but inexperienced players from a nobody school to the Nationals, too. But the fact was, with no coach, little training, and not nearly enough people, Fudoumine's tennis club was likely to slip right back into obscurity once Kamio and his yearmates retired after the next season. Fudoumine would have had two seasons of glory, probably more than it had ever seen before, but that would be the end of it.

"You need to concentrate on the people who are in first year now, who'll be in second year next year and still able to play in the season after this one," he said instead. "Unless you drop some of last year's Regulars from your lineup and don't use me, none of them are going to have experience in tournament play either. Take those two people, pray they're both in first year, put them through the wringer, and enter them in some outside tournaments to get them the experience. Then it'll be the job of those core players next year to find and train enough other people to complete the team. That's your only real chance." He snorted. "If you coddle them enough to keep all of them from dropping out, they won't learn enough to stand on their own next year."

“Yeah, I do realize that,” Kamio said, frowning at Kirihara in frustration. “Why do you think I was so dead-set against you scaring off all of our first years? I don’t want to coddle them, but I DO want them to stick around long enough for them to discover they like tennis.”

"I meant that you don't have twenty people to turn into eight Nationals players, you only have as many of those twenty as are first years," Akaya replied, his voice rising in intensity to match Kamio's frustration. "You've got a choice here, Kamio. If you choose to worry about keeping enough people in to make a team, then chances are good you'll still have a tennis club next year, but they'll be eliminated in the first round of the tournaments. That will discourage them; you may or may not have a club the year after that.

"Or," he continued, gesturing with one hand to emphasize his point, "You can forget about worrying about how many of them will stick around, and concentrate on training the hell out of whoever's left. Chances are pretty good they won't have enough people to go to the tournaments next year, but you'll have a couple of people who are now really dedicated to the sport, who will do their best to find other people to dedicate to it, and so on down the line. Eventually, you'll have a decent tennis club again, and by then it'll be there to stay."

At this point, although he was reluctant to end this highly entertaining discussion, Shinji felt he really ought to say something. He raised his voice, something he did rarely enough that Akira would actually pay attention when he did it, and announced, "Akira, Kirihara - we're here."

And they were - the two arguing had been so wrapped up in their discussion they hadn't even noticed they'd entered the change rooms. All around the room, boys in various states of undress were staring at them; most with bewilderment and curiosity, but there were four very hostile glares centered on Kirihara.

Kamio’s head jerked up even as his mouth opened to retort. “Y-you’re right,” he managed a second later, trying to stay casual even though he could feel the hostility emanating from the other regulars in waves. “At least, I sure hope you are, because you’re making sense. Now get changed and be on the court in ten minutes for a teamwide meeting,” he added, his voice raising into a commanding bark that encompassed all of the staring Fudoumine team members.

As though there was nothing wrong, he went to his own locker, opening it with a bang and beginning to get ready. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the other regulars closely. He'd wanted to introduce Kirihara properly, and make the situation clear, not let the other boy be ambushed in the changeroom and have to try to explain himself when he was on the defensive.

The moment he looked up and registered that they had an audience, all the intensity and seriousness fled Akaya's expression. The slightly malicious and insolent smirk that was his habitual defence was firmly in place as he sauntered over to an empty spot and dropped his bag, reaching for the buttons of his uniform jacket. Just as if he had every right in the world to be there - which he did, actually, the rest of Fudoumine just didn't know it yet. He ignored the hostility with the ease of long practice, forcing his shoulder muscles not to tense or let himself react in any other way as if it bothered him.

"What's HE doing here?" Ishida hissed to Shinji as the blue-haired boy moved to his own locker to change. "And why was Aki... I mean, Kamio-buchou, talking to him?"

"It's complicated," Shinji muttered back, which he thought just might be the understatement of the century. "You should wait for Akira to tell everyone, if I tell you then people will be listening, and they'll get stuff wrong and all sorts of rumours will start, and you guys might just riot, I'm sure Akira has a plan to explain everything though it probably got messed up when they walked in like that, maybe I should have stopped them earlier..."

Kamio tried not to listen to Shinji’s babbling, though he was glad that he was giving the rest of the team something to focus on. He changed in record time, even for him, his MP3 player hung around his neck more from habit than because he planned to use it. “Five minutes,” he called to the remaining team members who weren’t already finished changing as he grabbed his racquet and strode towards the door. “Last one there gets ten laps of the field,” he added with a small smirk as he heard the frenzy pick up speed.

He headed out to the court at an unhurried place, taking his place just inside the fenced in area and waiting for everyone to gather. The minute he appeared, everyone who wasn’t still inside changing hurried to assemble in front of him, chattering quietly. Most of the new players seemed totally confused, and Kamio was glad of that.

Seeing that the rest of the Regulars were lingering, Akaya was quick to change and join the others out on the courts. No way in hell did he want to be trapped in the locker room with four hostile people.

As he exited the change room, he glanced around at the courts and was once again dismayed by the differences between Fudoumine and Rikkaidai. It hadn't really occurred to him that Fudoumine probably wouldn't have indoor courts to practice on in the winter. Most everyone was wearing sweat or track pants over their shorts, and warm-up jackets over their shirts. There was a light dusting of snow over the courts, though it was obvious from the piles off to the side that they were swept regularly, probably by the first years. There were only two courts, though they were in better shape than Akaya had expected them to be. Apparently Fudoumine had made some concession to the fact that their tennis club was doing well, and allocated some funds for tending to the courts.

Trying not to shiver in his shorts and shirtsleeves, Akaya shifted his gaze from the courts to the players. Most of the boys were still holding their racquets like they weren't entirely comfortable with them. Few had any sign of the muscle or conditioning needed to be a good player. Not many had new-looking racquets, but for those who did there was little sign of the scratches and battering he'd expect if they'd been practicing their swings as much as they should be. He could only guess that the others had racquets that looked worked in primarily because they'd gotten them second-hand.

Oh, it wasn't like he couldn't tell Kamio had been working them at all. There were signs of practice, just not enough signs. He doubted any of them did anything to improve themselves outside of the exercises they were led through here at the club. And from what Kamio had been saying, he'd been trying not to push them so hard they would start dropping out.

Glancing over at Kamio, he raised an eyebrow and shook his head slightly, conveying his opinion of them. Not one of these brats would have lasted a day in Rikkai's tennis club. But this was all Kamio had to work with - and Akaya's own pride insisted he do something to help shape them up, if only so HE wouldn't be associated with such a bunch of half-assed, second-rate losers.

Kamio caught Kirihara’s look and sighed inwardly. The other boy was RIGHT, damnit, but he’d been doing the best he could. Hopefully Kirihara knew what he was talking about, and his advice would pay off, because Kamio was well aware that he was flying by the seat of his pants. Tachibana’s advice had helped as well, of course, but he hadn’t been to the practice. He didn’t really know how terrible they all were.

He gestured to Kirihara to come stand beside him as the last of the stragglers emerged from the changeroom. They all came to stand in a grumbling, muttering semi-circle in front of the trio of second years – Kamio standing beside Kirihara, with Shinji a step behind them, as Vice Captain.

“Today I want to welcome the newest member of our team,” Kamio said, an edge of stubbornness in his eyes as he met the gazes of each of the regulars. “Kirihara Akaya has transferred here from Rikkaidai. He’s an excellent singles player, and I’m sure that he’ll help to fill the very large hole that Captain Tachibana has left, both with his skill, and his expertise as captain of Rikkaidai’s tennis team. Some of you might remember him from last season,” he added with a touch of irony. “I know we have history, and I expect all of you to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s assured me – and I believe him – that he’s here to play, and to help bring Fudoumine to the Nationals for the second year in a row. Any questions?” he asked, his eyes daring anyone to disagree with him. He felt almost out of breath. He was pretty sure that was the longest – and most rehearsed – speech he’d made since taking the captaincy at the end of last season.

Outwardly Akaya looked relaxed, almost bored, with his racquet behind his back and both elbows tucked over it. Inwardly he was concealing a wince. So Kamio did know he'd been Rikkaidai's new captain. How very humiliating. He met the glares of the four other Regulars with a smirk of his own, which did nothing to ease the tension but did make him feel better.

"Kamio, you can't be serious," Sakurai blurted out, pointing accusingly at Kirihara with his racquet. "You can't really mean to let him join our team!" The other three murmured agreement, while the rest of the boys clustered around them looked thoroughly bewildered. Everyone knew that former captain Tachibana had been injured in a tournament last year, of course, but none of them had been there and so they didn't recognize Kirihara.

“Yeah, I do really mean to let him join our team,” Kamio snapped. “He’s on probation, and he knows it, but I’m not going to bar him from joining. Tachibana-taichou is fully recovered, and Kirihara is a talented player, and you all know it. IF he behaves, he’ll be a credit to our team, and we’re going to give him the same chance to prove himself that we’d give anyone else.” He clenched his fists. He did NOT want to alienate the rest of the team, and he knew this was his first big test. If they really distrusted him this much, he might as well hang up his jacket now.

Someone among the new players finally clued in that this was the Kirihara, the one who'd injured Tachibana last season. Awed and frightened whispers sprang up among the crowd, and the four Regulars looked only somewhat appeased.

"Look," Akaya said, figuring he'd better say something before they all voted to kick him off the team or something, "I'm here to play tennis. That's it, that's all I care about. You can even bar me from the Regulars if you want, I just want to play." A lie, that - the fact that Kamio had even let him in the door had raised his hopes that he might yet get to go to Nationals again. But Akaya could lie with the best of them for a good cause, and as far as he was concerned there was no greater cause than his own tennis career.

"You lot of all people ought to understand that," he added slyly. "Considering what you all had to go through to be allowed to play."

Kamio wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch Kirihara or hug him. However, it seemed as though what he had said was starting to make the regulars calm down. “Look,” he said. “I’m not saying that you should just take everything on faith and welcome him with open arms – lord knows, I sure didn’t, and neither did Ibu. All I’m saying is that he should get a fair chance. The Vice-Captain and I will be watching very closely, and I’m sure you all will be, too, but Kirihara has promised me he’ll behave, and so long as he does, is there really any reason to bar him from the team?” He raised his eyebrows, staring at each of the regulars in turn, and then sweeping his gaze over all of the other players.

Several of the more ego-filled newbies, the ones who'd imagined themselves as the missing member of the Regulars team, were giving Kirihara nasty looks as if to warn him off. Many of the boys seemed happy that their team had gained such a strong new player. But it was the Regulars who mattered. Kirihara refused to even look at them, not wanting them to know just how much this meant to him and therefore just how much power they now held over his life.

Finally, after many exchanged glances and much furious whispering between them, Ishida stepped forward as the apparent spokesperson for the other Regulars. "We trust you, Kamio-buchou," he said. "We followed you before Tachibana came, and we're not going to stop now. But we will be watching you," he added fiercely, this last bit directed at Kirihara.

Smirking, Akaya gave him a slightly predatory look. "Of course you will. To steal a line from Atobe, you'll be in awe of my beautiful skills." His lips twitched, but somehow Akaya managed to keep from laughing at himself. Honestly, how did Atobe do it? It was almost impossible to deliver that line with a straight face.

The redhead rolled his eyes at Kirihara, but gave a nod of thanks to Ishida. “Good,” he said. “On both counts.” He raised a hand. “Okay, regulars, you’re going to take turns feeding balls to each other on court two. Everyone else, with me. I want you to start by practicing your swings. We’ll be watching for good technique and intensity.” He glanced at Kirihara and dropped his voice so that only he and Shinji would hear. “And you can tell me what you think I should do with each of them, for their training menu.”

Some of the first years ran to grab brooms and hastily began sweeping the courts off, starting with court two so the Regulars could practice. Kirihara carefully noted which boys had gone for the brooms; the ones most eager to do the grunt work expected of first years were also generally the ones most willing to work hard in other ways. The ones who actively avoided the grunt work, conversely, were the ones who felt doing hundreds of repetitions of swings to be beneath them.

That was when it struck him that he, as a non-Regular, was going to have to go join everyone else in the racquet drills. He sputtered with sudden laughter, causing more than one person to give him an odd look and a wide berth. Well, he could hardly bow out after what he'd just been thinking. Besides, you could never do too many racquet drills.

Kamio glanced at Kirihara when he suddenly started laughing. “What?” he asked in confusion, still keeping an eye on the proceedings around them.

"Just reminding myself that I don't get special treatment as a Regular any more," Akaya replied, his eyes still sparkling with sardonic mirth even though something died a little inside him every time he reminded himself of what he'd lost. He glanced back at the others on the second court, still a little surprised that they'd actually accepted him. Maybe not all of that something had to die. Maybe he would get back at least some of what he'd lost. For just a moment, a genuine smile touched his lips before he shaped it back into his customary smirk.

"At this point, the best thing I can do is probably set an example for the rest of the non-Regulars, and prove to your friends at the same time that I meant what I said and don't hold myself above them," he said, swinging his racquet around from behind his back into a proper grip. "So I guess I better go do some drills." With that he jogged off, joining the ragged line of first and second years who were swinging their racquets with varying degrees of competance.

Kamio blinked. He honestly hadn't intended to include Kirihara in the order - he'd intended to keep the former Rikkai player with him while he watched the drills, taking advantage of his insight.

But he decided that the mistake was a lucky one. If the regulars saw Kirihara happily practicing his drills, and the rest of the team saw him being fairly normal, maybe it would help to integrate him. Treating him like an outsider - someone neither a regular nor a member of the rest of the team - would probably keep him alienated.

He walked up and down the line, correcting grips and stances, and giving encouragement. All the while, he secretly envied the rest of the regulars. He liked being captain, but he liked to play.

At this stage of his tennis career, Akaya did not need to actually pay attention to what he was doing. He'd performed the repetitive drills so many thousands of times over the years that his body was quite capable of doing them without any help from his brain.

So instead, he turned his attention to the rest of the boys around him. He'd deliberately placed himself at the back, so he could see what everyone else was doing without having to crane his neck around.

He made mental note of all the boys who were actually trying, putting their hearts into the drills. Some of them were, frankly, among the worst in terms of their form, but he could see that was just from an excess of enthusiasm, a problem that would correct itself with time.

He also paid attention to who was actually trying to follow Kamio's advice as he made small corrections here and there. Some of the boys were even correcting themselves, or listening to the corrections given to people near them and applying it to themselves. They were mostly the same boys who were actually trying hard as the drill wore on.

And finally, he made special note of everyone who wasn't trying hard, who was listening to Kamio's advice and then promptly ignoring it. Those would be the troublemakers, the ones who were only here so they could say they were part of a National level team.

Everyone else he pretty much ignored. Until and unless they did something to distinguish themselves one way or the other, they weren't important. Those were the ones who would probably drop out first. The ones who were trying were the ones who might stick and actually turn into decent players. And the ones who were slacking...

Well, they might end up sticking around just to make trouble out of resentment, so it was best to keep an eye on them to.

Kamio ran the new players through a number of other drills, finally getting them to the point where he was feeding them balls and having them hit them back to him. Kirihara, of course, outperformed everyone to the point of ridiculousness, leaving Kamio in a bit of a quandry as to what he was going to do with the boy from now on. He couldn't continue to make him do stupid drills, but he wasn't sure it was a good idea to let him play games with the regulars just yet. Who knew what would happen?

|Prologue| |Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3| |Part 4| |Part 5| |Part 6| |Part 7| |Part 8| |Part 9| |Part 10| |Part 11|

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