Chapter 13

There were indoor courts at Hyoutei of course, but most captains chose to continue working the club outside if the weather permitted it. Ohtori had heard various theories over the years as to why that was; some said it was because working in the cold air was supposed to be good for your endurance, others that it was sort of like the way Buddhist monks would train by standing under freezing waterfalls for hours.

Most people just agreed that it was sheer sadism on the part of the captains, however. And Hiyoshi was obviously no exception.

Ohtori stood outside the fenced area, watching the practice with a feeling of wistful nostalgia. Some part of his subconscious mind was tugging at him, telling him that he was obviously late for practice and needed to go get changed now, not hang around waiting to be noticed and yelled at. His lips twitched as he heard Hiyoshi shout "Regulars! Ten laps!" and his body almost turned to start running automatically.

Beside him, Shishido laughed softly. "Old habits die hard, don't they?" At first Ohtori thought his partner had seen him start to move, until he looked over and saw that Shishido had actually taken the first step towards where the group in Hyoutei jerseys had started running.

"At least it was only Hiyoshi," Ohtori offered with a laugh. "If it had been Atobe's voice, we probably would be running now."

Shishido opened his mouth to answer, but was beaten to it as a familiar voice barked from behind them, "Shishido! Ohtori! You're late, five laps!"

Both of them dropped their bags and started to move, their bodies and subconscious minds trained to follow that voice's commands without question. Ohtori caught sight of Atobe standing with his arms crossed a few feet behind them, a smirk on his face. Beside him Jirou was leaning on him for support; not because he was sleepy for once, but because he was laughing so hard there wasn't even any sound coming out.

"You bastard," Shishido swore, stopping before he'd taken more than a few steps and glaring at their former captain. "You just couldn't resist, could you? What the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

"I was wondering that myself," Hiyoshi said, raising an eyebrow as he came up to the low wall that separated the courts from the bleachers they were all standing on. "I don't suppose you're back to ask to rejoin?" he asked Ohtori, though it was clear he didn't expect a positive answer.

Chuckling, Ohtori shook his head. "No. Dear gods, no. It's been hard enough for Shishido-san and I to get our game back together, the last thing I need to do is sabotage us by trying to play with someone else as well. We wanted to know if you'd let us play your doubles teams. It'll be good training for them, and tell us whether we're actually good enough to start signing up for tournaments in the spring."

"You decided to start entering the non-school tournaments?" Hiyoshi looked thoughtful. "Huh. I guess that's not a bad idea, since you can't play together again in school for a couple of years. And you're right, it would be good for my doubles players. They're getting overconfident." He cocked his head curiously. "Why not just ask Mukahi-senpai and Oshitari-senpai, though?"

"First, because we already know their style inside and out, and how to seal all their special moves," Shishido replied, scooping his bag up from where he'd dropped it and handing Ohtori's over to him. "Not that they wouldn't be a challenge still, but we need to be sure we're capable of dealing with new things, not just pairs we already know." He grinned. "And second, because I don't think they've been doing a hell of a lot of training since the seniors retired. We'd probably run circles around them."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Atobe cut in smoothly. "You may have been foolish enough to let yourself get out of training, Shishido, but not all of us are so short-sighted. Admittedly I haven't seen much of Mukahi, but Oshitari has come over to play me several times."

"Still, they haven't been training as a pair," Ohtori said. "With school tournaments, more often than not the doubles pairs are mixed up all the time, to make sure they can still play with anyone. There are strong pairings who tend to play together more often than not, but even Seigaku's Golden Pair played with other people more often than each other in the tournaments last year." He shrugged. "But we're going to be facing other people like us, who have been training hard for months with specific partners. Oshitari-san and Mukahi-san won't have that kind of synergy any more, if they haven't been playing together for a while."

"Yeah, we found out how easy it is to lose your sense of each other, even after only a month," Shishido grimaced. "And before you get huffy, Atobe, it's the same reason we didn't just ask to play you and Jirou again. We need to practice against a doubles pair, not a pair of good singles players who are capable of working together."

"Sounds reasonable to me," Jirou agreed, finally catching his breath and peering at them in amusement over Atobe's shoulder. "I still want to get to play you guys, though! It wouldn't hurt to play with us sometimes, right?"

"Of course we'll play you sometimes, Jirou-san," Ohtori couldn't help but smile at the older boy. "But frankly, if we haven't improved as much as we think we have, I'd rather find out against people who don't know us than by embarrassing ourselves in front of you and Atobe-san again." Jirou snickered and winked at him, and Ohtori laughed.

Atobe had been studying the two of them; not quite in his 'insight' pose, but just watching them observantly. His ever-present smirk became something closer to a real smile. "I don't think you're going to have any problems," he told them. "Your communication has improved in leaps and bounds. Your body language is much closer to the way it was when you played together last year... if somewhat reversed." The smirk returned, and Shishido swatted irritably at him as Ohtori blushed.

Clearly out of the loop and having no idea what was being discussed between the lines, Hiyoshi just shrugged. "Go get changed, you can use the locker room... the non-Regulars one," he added, as both Ohtori and Shishido automatically started towards the much newer building that housed the Regulars' lockers and equipment. "Meet me back here, I'll tell my players."

As Jirou and Atobe settled into place on the bleachers, picking the spot that would give them the best view of the court Hiyoshi had gestured at, Ohtori and Shishido trotted to the clubhouse. "It's going to feel strange to play here and not be in our jerseys," Ohtori remarked to Shishido, who laughed.

"It's gonna be weirder to be using the non-Regulars' change room," the senior countered. "Never thought I'd set foot in there again after I got back on the team. Never wanted to."

"Well, we can't expect special privileges when we're not even in the club, let alone on the team," Ohtori replied, chuckling. They reached the door and made their way inside. The main room was huge, rows and rows of lockers and shelves taking up most of the space.

There were a couple of people inside; with more than two hundred people in the club, it was inevitable that there would always be someone with a broken shoelace or some other problem that required them to duck into the locker room briefly. The club members stared at Ohtori and Shishido curiously, and Ohtori heard a couple of excited whispers break out as they were recognized.

"Looks like we're still famous," he commented to Shishido as they both dropped their bags on a bench and started to strip down to the shorts and shirts they were wearing under their track pants and jackets. They'd chosen the end-of-month Saturday practice to make their request, so they would be able to focus entirely on the game for the day and not have to worry about classes.

"Or infamous," Shishido grinned at him, folding his outer clothes haphazardly and putting them on the bench. He checked to make sure his shoes were tied tight and Ohtori did the same. Then they grabbed their racquets and water bottles and headed back to the courts.

Unsurprisingly, a large group had already gathered around the court where they were to play. Ohtori thought Hiyoshi was wise for allowing it; if he tried to force the rest of the club to ignore it and keep practicing, they would be resentful of the missed opportunity. And they would be right to feel that way; this would probably be the kind of game they could learn a lot from watching.

They'd already done most of their warming up before coming near the tennis club; now they set their equipment down on one of the benches and started doing a few last stretches under the watchful eyes of the club. "You two ready?" Hiyoshi asked, walking over to them.

"Pretty much," Shishido agreed as he leaned on Ohtori's back to help the taller boy stretch out fully. "Who're we playing?"

"My D1 pair, Shinohara and Takato," the captain informed them. At their surprised looks, he smirked at them, looking eerily like Atobe for a brief moment. "Did you think I'd give you someone easy so you could walk all over them? You said you wanted a challenge. I'm not going to let you show up my team and make them look bad."

"On your head be it, then," Shishido laughed and straightened, offering Ohtori a hand up. Ohtori accepted it and let his partner help him to his feet. "We're still gonna walk all over them, and then you won't have the excuse that they weren't your best pair to fall back on."

Smiling, Ohtori shook his head at the senior's bravado. The fact was, neither of them was entirely sure just how good they were at this point. Solo practice could only tell you so much, and although they felt like they were back in synch, they could have been mistaken. Part of him thought they should have tried playing someone like Atobe and Jirou first, just to test themselves, but Shishido had been insistent.

Well, perhaps he was right. As he retrieved his racquet and walked to the net to shake hands with their opponents, Ohtori could feel adrenalin pumping through him, energizing him until each step felt almost like he was bouncing. It was the challenge that was motivating him, the thrill of facing the unknown and unpredictable. This was exactly what they'd be dealing with in the tournaments; pairs they knew nothing about and couldn't work out strategies for beforehand.

They bowed and shook hands with the two juniors. Both had been in the sub-Regulars when Ohtori and Shishido had still been on the team, so he knew them by sight, but he'd never really trained with either of them. He could see the burning determination on their faces; the look in their eyes that promised they were going to do whatever it took to come out on top. Beating the previous year's D1 pair would do wonders for their reputation... if they could do it.

Ohtori realized he had a rather predatory grin on his face that probably pretty much matched the one he could see Shishido wearing. The juniors might go down fighting, but they were going down. He had a good feeling about this match.

All around them the club members were chanting at the top of their lungs, the familiar 'Katsuno wa Hyoutei' - 'The winner will be Hyoutei' cheer that Ohtori knew so well. Since Ohtori and Shishido were no longer members of the team the chant was technically supposed to support only their opponents. But Ohtori had walked out onto the court with that cheer at his back too many times not to feel buoyed by it now.

They won the spin, and chose to receive first. They'd discussed their basic strategy as they'd warmed up earlier, and agreed to save Ohtori's Scud Serve for the last games, if they used it at all. Winning their service games by simple expedient of a serve that couldn't be returned was all well and good, but wouldn't help them if they came up against someone who could return the Scud Serve. Ohtori could practice his serve easily enough any time he wanted to. What they needed now was practice in actually playing.

As they moved to take their positions, Shishido reached out as if to clap Ohtori on the shoulder, the start of their familiar pre-game ritual. He paused just before he made contact, his dark blue eyes searching out Ohtori's gaze and asking silently whether it was still appropriate.

It wasn't, really. The things that ritual had symbolized were no longer relevant. Ohtori shook his head slightly, and saw Shishido's expression fall. Before the senior could turn away, however, Ohtori offered his hand in a high five.

Shishido hesitated, searching his eyes. Finally the predatory smile returned and he smacked Ohtori's hand, catching it and holding on for a long moment. Their hands tightened around each other's, and a new ritual was born. We can take on the world. Bring it on.

The first couple of rallies were almost cautious, as both pairs tried to get a sense of what their opponents were capable of. Shishido took the first point; Takato took the next two, and then Shishido scored twice more to give them the advantage.

At that point, Ohtori could see that the two juniors were mostly focusing on Shishido. The senior played close to the net, and his style was more than flashy enough to draw attention to him. Ohtori had returned a few balls, but hadn't yet scored any points or really even given them something that was difficult to return. Despite the fact that he and Shishido were ahead, the juniors were becoming more confident and had begun to dismiss Ohtori as nothing more than baseline support for Shishido.

Grinning, Ohtori decided it was about time to disabuse them of the notion. Shishido evidently had the same thought; as the ball came back at them low and fast over the net, he saw his partner start to bolt for it.

Anyone else would have thought that Shishido had misjudged the speed of the ball and was seriously trying to return it. Ninety percent of the time a ball that low to the net would be a short return, and it would be up to the dash specialist to catch it and volley it back. Difficult enough since he was on the other side of the court and had to run to meet it, but this ball was coming fast and hard and was actually going to be a deep shot, landing right near the baseline.

Even as he started moving Ohtori saw the smirks spreading over the juniors' faces as they thought they'd won the point. Shishido was moving fast enough to get to the ball in time to return it, but only barely; it would be a sloppy return and they would easily be able to fire it back into the opposite corner for the point.

Just as he drew even with the ball, Shishido stepped forward as if he were going to try to lunge for it... but didn't even try to bring his racquet around, keeping it poised to one side as he smirked at the juniors across the net. Before the two younger boys realized he hadn't ever meant to return it the ball was past him, hitting the ground just inches in front of the baseline.

And arcing up to smash straight into Ohtori's racquet, where he'd raced across the back of the court to meet it. They hadn't even seen him coming, too focused on Shishido's dash to pay attention to him. He returned it just as hard and low as it had come to him. The other two had both been up near the net, the better to return what they'd assumed would be Shishido's clumsy volley. Instead the ball blew straight past both of them and landed in the far corner before going out.

"Game, Shishido-Ohtori," Hiyoshi called from the chair at the side. He'd chosen to ref rather than playing bench coach to his players. "One game to love. Change court."

There was a lot of muttering from the club members around them. Some of it sounded shocked and surprised, but for the most part everyone there had been present to see Shishido and Ohtori's victory against Seigaku, and also their later games in the Nationals. Shinohara and Takato were giving them dirty looks as they moved around to the other side of the court, and Shishido laughed and clapped Ohtori on the shoulder.

"Nice going, partner," the senior said, and Ohtori grinned back at him.

"Not bad yourself," he replied, brown eyes sparkling with excitement and the flush of victory. They could do this. He'd predicted Shishido's move flawlessly, and Shishido had known without looking that Ohtori would be where he needed to be. They had their synchronicity back.

The rest of the match was hardly a cakewalk, and they dropped a fair number of points to the juniors. The score climbed steadily in their favour, however; the other two boys did their best to learn their lesson and remember to watch for Ohtori, but Shishido was just too good at drawing attention and being a distraction. Not to mention scoring points in his own right; his Rising Counter was stronger than ever, and he'd added a few new tricks to his repertoire that he and Ohtori had worked out together.

Even in Shishido's service game, when it was Ohtori playing up at the net and Shishido at the baseline, they held strong. Because his serve was so strong and he tended to leave the net play up to Shishido, most people forgot that Ohtori was a serve and volley specialist. His volleys were viciously fast and accurate, and his long legs let him cover the whole net area easily. Anything that made it past him - or, more accurately, that he allowed to make it past him - was met by Shishido's Rising Counter. They didn't drop a single point in that game.

After that, with the score at 4-0, they switched to Australian formation. Until that moment they'd been playing in the standard doubles configuration, but they'd regained enough confidence in their pairing to attempt some of the more difficult formations. They pulled it off flawlessly, and Ohtori could see the effect it had on their opponents, demoralizing them badly.

They took that game without dropping a point as well. Facing an opponent so capable of throwing you off your game was a downward spiral; the more confidence the two juniors lost, the worse they were playing, and therefore the more confidence they lost. Short of a miracle, at this point it was a given that Ohtori and Shishido were going to win the set in straight games.

And it would take a very impressive miracle indeed, because the sixth and likely final game was Ohtori's service game again.

He glanced at Shishido, who grinned back and nodded at him. The two juniors had started out playing well, but they weren't providing much of a challenge any more. There was no reason to drag it out. "Let's end this, Choutarou," Shishido murmured in verbal confirmation of Ohtori's thoughts.

Smiling back, Ohtori bounced the ball at the service line a few times, waiting for the other pair to get into position. Clearly desperate, they were trying a more advanced formation of their own, a variation on the Australian. Ohtori's smile widened. It wasn't going to help them.

As his arm came up for the toss, he began the familiar chant. "Ikkyu..." The words narrowed his focus, helping him put all his concentration into the motion. He didn't even hear the startled and anticipatory gasps from those who heard and recognized the words, or the ragged cheering that was starting.

Feet there, racquet arm just so, and let the ball drift almost gently from his fingertips at the top of the throw. It didn't spin at all, arcing high in a textbook perfect toss. "Nyu..."

Back arched, all coiled tension; knees bent and feet braced for the lunge. The ball reached the top of its flight and started back down again, gravity an insurmountable force tugging at it. "Kon!" Ohtori's racquet snapped up and forwards, all the considerable strength in his back and shoulders slamming it into the ball.

It was one of the best Scud Serves he'd ever done. He could feel the ball on the strings of his racquet like a living thing, squarely in the center of the sweet spot. As it sped away from the impact and his body followed through on the serve, he finally dropped his head to watch its progress over the net.

It took a sharp eye and a lot of experience to even be able to see a well-executed Scud Serve, let alone return it. Both Takato and Shinohara had seen him play in the tournaments, had known what was coming when they heard the familiar chant. Still neither of them was able to do more than blink before the ball had impacted hard on their side of the court, right in the corner of the 'T'.

"Fifteen-love!" Hiyoshi called into the silence that followed the sound of the ball hitting the court. A roar of astonished noise followed the declaration, and their opponents looked shaken. Ohtori smiled in satisfaction, and Shishido grinned back at him over his shoulder. Even those who had seen it before were surprised; Ohtori had broken 200 km/h even before he'd resigned from the team, and now the Scud Serve was faster than ever.

After that, it wasn't so much a game as a rout. The juniors tried their best, but they couldn't even catch up to the serve fast enough to try to return it. Ohtori was fully confident that even if they had managed to catch it, it would have blown their racquets right out of their hands. There weren't many people strong enough to return a serve that hard.

The final score for the set was 6-0 for Ohtori and Shishido, and their opponents dropped to their knees, panting in exhaustion. Ohtori and Shishido were both sweating and breathing hard, but were nowhere near as badly off as the juniors. They'd been training with an eye to playing three set matches in the future, and it showed in their improved endurance.

Shishido pumped his fist once in a gesture of triumph, then turned and all but flew across the court to catch Ohtori in a tight grip on the shoulders that was almost a hug. The gesture was forceful enough that it knocked his cap off, revealing his sweat-soaked shaggy hair beneath. "We did it! Choutarou, we did it! We are so back in action!"

Laughing, Ohtori reached up and ruffled his partner's hair with his free hand, making Shishido growl and swat at him playfully. "We certainly did, Shishido-san," he agreed, his eyes shining with no less a sense of victory than Shishido was displaying.

The cheers were almost deafening, even as the other club members spilled onto the courts to console the losers. Ohtori and Shishido were surrounded by a swirl of excited people, all babbling questions and congratulations at them in an incomprehensible swell of noise. Jirou was right in the middle of the pack, bouncing up and down in full hyper mode, and Ohtori saw Atobe smiling indulgently at the edges of the pack. Atobe caught him looking and nodded once, the stamp of his approval. Their former captain thought they were ready as well.

"All right, enough!" a deep voiced shouted from the back of the crowd. Sakaki strode forward, scowling at the rowdy mass of tennis players on the courts. "Non-Regulars, back to your drills. Regulars, ten laps for ignoring your own training, and then meet in the clubroom to go over the game."

Ohtori flushed as he saw that Sakaki was holding a video camera. He hadn't even seen his coach and music instructor on the sidelines, but somebody must have run to get him when the match was first announced. The thought that their game was going to be picked apart and used as an instruction tool for the Regulars made him both embarrassed and proud.

He couldn't help but wince as he saw Sakaki approach the defeated D1 pair, however. A year ago, he knew, the two would have been dropped from the team without question. Contrary to the rumour going around the junior-high tennis circuit, Hyoutei Regulars were not dropped just for losing a match, and never had been. For one thing, the only person on the team who'd never lost a game was Atobe. A practice like that would have run through the entire two-hundred member club in short order, unless they never played any games even to train.

However, a crushing 6-0 defeat would get you dropped. That was what had happened to Shishido in that fateful game against Tachibana of Fudoumine last season. Ohtori held his breath, wondering if Hyoutei was about to lose one of their doubles pairs before the tournaments had even started. Shishido's return to the Regulars had changed things a great deal, but only in that it was no longer impossible for a dropped Regular to return to the team if he improved enough. The standards for keeping your place on the team were still high.

Sakaki surveyed the two juniors for a long moment, as they stood with their heads bowed before him. "You're very lucky that was neither an official game nor a ranking match," the coach finally declared. "I expect much better of my players. You're on probation, and dropped to the D2 spot. Now go run your laps."

The sighs of relief from the juniors was audible even as far away as Ohtori was. Probation meant they would be dropped for any loss, not just a total defeat, but at least they still had a chance. They turned and started running, their steps staggering a bit with exhaustion from the tough game.

"Good job," Sakaki said, turning now to Ohtori and Shishido. Ohtori straightened and his eyes shone at the rare praise, and he saw Shishido smile beside him as well. "You've both improved. I'll be watching you at the tournaments." With that he moved to go oversee the drills, and the two boys turned to grin at each other rather like idiots.

"We'll all be watching," Atobe echoed their former coach, deigning to smile at them. "You'd best do Hyoutei proud."

"We will," Ohtori said firmly. "We've finally got our game together again, and there's nowhere to go from here but up." It was the best feeling in the world, the heady sensation of a flawless victory. He didn't make the mistake of thinking that every game they played would be this relatively easy, but if they could take on Hyoutei's D1 pair and win, then they really had a chance.

There was only one thing marring his triumph; he wished Amano could have been there to see it. He'd invited his boyfriend to come watch the game, but the pianist had begged off. He'd cited his utter lack of understanding of the game as his excuse, which was true enough, but it wasn't like tennis was that hard to follow. Ohtori knew the real reason was that Amano didn't want to be anywhere near Shishido.

Well, perhaps it was for the best. It probably would have been awkward anyway, having Amano watching as Shishido pounded his back and all but hugged him in triumph. Ohtori thought maybe it was something you could only understand if you played in competitions at this level; the sheer exuberance that overtook you when you won. There was nothing sexual about it, but given how touchy his boyfriend was in regards to Shishido, Ohtori would no doubt have had to spend the next several days trying to placate the pianist.

Shaking his head, he pushed all thoughts of his complicated love life aside. Right now, he just wanted to revel in victory, and join in the laughing and teasing flying between Shishido, Atobe and Jirou. He'd worry about Amano later. For now, he wanted to celebrate.

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