Chapter 4

The look on Atobe's face as the senior regarded the club sandwich in front of him with disdain was almost enough to break Shishido out of his funk. He'd expected Atobe to drag them both to some upscale cafe or restaurant, but instead their former captain had actually lowered himself enough to bring them to Shishido's favourite restaurant, a little diner not far from his house that served the best cheese sandwiches he'd ever had.

That the hole-in-the-wall dive didn't even come close to Atobe's exacting standards went without saying, and Jirou had been snickering at the look on their wealthy friend's face since they'd ordered. Shishido, on the other hand, was mostly just touched by the unexpected gesture. Atobe was so bloody self-centered most of the time; it was these rare moments when he went out of his way for a friend that reminded Shishido of just why he was still so close to the arrogant ass.

Despite the fact that Atobe had lowered himself enough to treat Shishido to his favourite, the dash specialist was only picking at his own sandwich. The edges of the bread were all frayed and tattered, but none of it had actually made its way into his mouth yet. He couldn't get his mind off the utter disaster the afternoon had turned into, and it was eating at him from the inside out.

"What'd I do wrong?" he finally blurted out, interrupting Atobe's irritated contemplation of his food. The other boy blinked and raised an eyebrow at him, and Shishido elaborated. "You said before that I was doing everything wrong. What'd I do? Why'm I the only one who can't seem to figure out what Choutarou's problem is? And don't just sit there and trade significant looks with each other," he added, getting mad as his two friends did just that. "You keep doing that. What the fuck, guys? Who handed out the rulebook and why didn't I get a copy?"

"You really need to sort this out with Ohtori directly, Shishido," Atobe said, shaking his head. "After all, Jirou and I can't do more than hypothesize, and we could be mistaken." His tone said that he doubted it, but wasn't willing to divulge more than that. Shishido growled in frustration and turned to Jirou.

His other friend blinked at him sleepily. "Atobe's right, Shishido," the smaller boy said, shrugging. "We're not the ones you need to be asking. Ohtori-kun is."

"If I could fucking well pin him down for ten minutes, I would!" Shishido snarled, beyond frustrated with the whole damn situation. "He won't talk to me, damn it! It seemed like things were finally started to get back to normal just before you guys showed up today, but then he froze up on me again." He bit his lip, trying to hide just how much the whole thing bothered him. "I mean, what the hell? One minute he's laughing and joking with me and it feels like we never stopped playing, and the next he won't even look at me!"

"You asked for our opinion, and we've given it to you," Atobe informed him, somewhat imperious but not entirely without sympathy. "Honestly, Shishido," he added, shaking his head, "No friendship is perfect, or without problems. You and Ohtori have had it far too easy, at least as far as your relationship with each other went. So, now you've hit your first major problem. Does he mean so little to you that you're going to give up without a fight?"

Shishido glared at him, unable to even put his fury at the very idea into words. Give up? Him? He didn't even know the meaning of the words. He'd clawed his way back onto the Regulars after being dropped, there was no way in hell he was going to let a stupid fight with his best friend defeat him.

Even if he didn't have the first clue what the fuck they were fighting about.

"Remember your first big fight with Atobe?" Jirou put in suddenly, grinning at them both. "I thought you guys were going to kill each other. Your mom was so mad at you for coming home with a black eye and bloody nose, remember Shishido?"

"Yeah," Shishido had to snort at the memory, amused despite himself. "I gave as good as I got, though... I seem to recall Atobe lisping past a split lip for a week." He smirked at their former captain, who rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were asleep during that fight?" Atobe asked Jirou. "You certainly never said anything about it at the time. I don't even recall, what were we fighting over?"

"You called Shishido's family 'peasants'," Jirou supplied promptly. "And he called you a spoiled little rich brat. I can't remember who said what first, though, and I don't know exactly what started it. I was half asleep, I only woke up when you started yelling at each other. But I didn't want to get involved."

"Probably smart," Shishido had to acknowledge. Gods, he hadn't thought about those days in forever. They'd been, what... six, seven years old? There'd never been a more mismatched trio of friends, but despite the frequent spats between him and Atobe, they'd remained close over the years. "I remember my first fight with you, too, Jirou," he added with a grin. "I was so mad that I couldn't get you to wake up for a match with me, that I dumped cold water over you the next time I found you asleep. You didn't speak to me for days."

"You ruined my favourite pillow!" Jirou complained, but he was laughing too. Talking about these memories was slowly making the knot in Shishido's stomach dissolve. Atobe was right - no friendship lasted forever without running into problems. The important part was getting past the spats, just like he had with Atobe and Jirou. He could do it with Ohtori, too, and their friendship would be that much stronger for it.

"I remember that," Atobe was smiling nostalgically as well. "You kept making me repeat everything Shishido said to you as if you couldn't hear it, and you'd whisper at me so I'd have to relay your words to him. Finally I started mis-repeating things on purpose, just to force you to speak to him directly."

Jirou gave Atobe an exaggerated sleepy pout, and Shishido laughed at them both. When he glanced down at his plate, he was surprised to realize he was halfway through the sandwich, and feeling hungry again. "Thanks, guys," he said, flushing slightly with embarrassment.

"Your determination to never give up has served you well in the past, Ryou," Atobe told him with a hint of a smirk, "but the stubbornness that accompanies the determination can also be your downfall."

"Sometimes you just need us to push you out of the rut your thinking is stuck in," Jirou said with a yawn and a grin. "What're friends for?"

That made Shishido laugh again. Jirou had a way of cutting straight to the heart of things, and somehow he was able to say things that would get Shishido mad if it had come from anyone else. "All right, so now that I'm not stuck in a rut any more... what the fuck do I do? I can't figure out what's going through his head if I can't get him to talk to me, and I don't have anybody to start mis-repeating things to make him talk to me."

"You said you've tried calling him," Atobe gave up poking at his own dinner and leaned back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the back of it. "Have you tried cornering him somewhere? After his music practice, perhaps?"

The growl that escaped Shishido surprised even him, a little. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the memory. "That's what started this whole mess. I finally went looking for him after Hiyoshi told me he'd quit the team, and I... what?" Atobe had made an exasperated noise, and Jirou had smacked his forehead before slumping over to rest his head on his arms on the table.

"The first time you went looking for him was because he'd quit the team?" Atobe shook his head, rolling his eyes at Shishido. "Honestly. Never mind, keep going. Why couldn't you talk to him at the practice? For that matter, why are you having trouble talking to him on the phone?"

"Because I can't get him away from bloody Amano, that's why," Shishido snarled, eyes narrowing at the memory. "They're always together, doing homework or practicing for that damn concert. Everywhere he goes, the fucking pianist is right behind him!" he realized his voice was rising when other people in the diner started turning to look at him, and slumped back in his seat with another growl.

Was it possible to hate someone at first sight? There was just something about Amano that put Shishido's hackles up, and he didn't like the fact that Ohtori was spending so much time with the other junior. And he'd had the oddest feeling, though Amano certainly hadn't said or done anything to indicate so, that the pianist didn't much like Shishido either.

"Like today," he continued, lowering his voice but gesturing emphatically as he warmed to the topic. "I wanted to take him out for dinner, you know, catch up with him. Spend some time with just the two of us, like we used to. I didn't really realize it because I've been so busy, but now that I've noticed it, I miss him, damn it." Admitting that was hard, it sounded so stupidly sappy... after all, it had only been a month, right? Shishido just didn't do sappy. Not even in front of Atobe and Jirou.

Actually, maybe especially not in front of his two closest friends. They'd probably take the opportunity to tease him about it for months.

"Did you tell Ohtori-kun you were planning to do that?" Jirou asked, his words somewhat muffled by the fact that only his sleepy eyes and bright mop of hair were visible above his arms. "Or that you missed him?"

"Well, no, I..." Why did that suddenly make him feel kinda guilty? "I didn't say anything. We just always went out after practice, why would this have been any different? I mean, hell, not like I make specific plans like that with you guys, do I?"

"Next time, I suggest planning it out with him ahead of time," Atobe said dryly. "And not inviting us to play with you. If I'd realized how seriously wrong things were going between the two of you, I'd never have agreed to come. Really, Shishido, sometimes you don't have the social skills the gods gave a weasel."

"Rabid weasel," was Jirou's snickering addition, which made Shishido pick up his water glass and make as if he was about to toss the contents onto his sleepy friend.

"With my luck, next time I ask him to play he'll invite bloody Amano to come watch again," Shishido muttered sourly as he set the glass down again. "And it's not like I can say 'no, don't bring your damn friend', now can I?"

"Invite him to your birthday party!" Jirou sat up abruptly, beaming like he'd just offered the solution to all of Shishido's problems. "It's your party, and you don't know Amano, so it'd be rude of Ohtori-kun to bring him along."

Actually, that would have been a good idea, except... "I'm not having a party, I hate birthdays, you know that," he reminded his stupidly grinning friend. "I haven't had a birthday party since I was ten and finally put my foot down with my parents. They're a pain in the ass." He hated having people fussing over him and making a big deal of him like that... it was one thing to have people admiring him for, say, his skill at tennis, but it was just dumb for people to get so excited over the day someone happened to be born.

"Too much of a pain in the ass to be worth a chance to talk to Ohtori away from his new friend?" Atobe asked, arching a brow at him. Shishido scowled. Well, when he put it like that...

"I guess it's not such a bad idea," he conceded grudgingly. "Hell, my birthday is next week, though! I don't have time to put together a party. And you are not organizing it," he cut off the suggestion Atobe was obviously about to make with a shudder. "Fuck it. If it's just you guys and Choutarou, that's not such a big deal to organize."

"Invite the rest of the team," Jirou promptly interjected. "Or else it'll be just like today. But if you keep it to the team, then he definitely won't bring Amano."

"All right," Shishido agreed, though he wasn't sure what difference having the others there would make. And it would be harder to get Ohtori alone with that many people around, wouldn't it? But following his own instincts hadn't gotten him anywhere except apparently into more hot water, so he'd take his friends' suggestions for now. "We can watch a movie, or something."

From there the conversation turned to ideas for things they could all do and still keep it low key, and then on to other, unrelated topics like school and the game they'd played today. By the time they parted ways at the exit of the diner, Shishido was feeling a whole lot better about everything. He headed towards his house, wandering along the commercial district and just looking in the windows, his steps lighter than they had been in days.

A flash of dark silver reflected in a window caught his eyes, and he turned automatically to search for the source, even as he laughed at himself. Silver didn't always equal 'Ohtori', but somehow catching a glimpse of that particular colour always had him looking around for his partner.

He was more than a little surprised when his search ended across the street, where a tall silver-haired boy and a smaller dark-haired one were walking along the sidewalk. His heart skipped a beat, oddly, and he swallowed. It was Ohtori, with Amano close at his side. Their heads were tilted towards each other, and Ohtori was once again laughing at something his friend had said.

Shouldn't they have been back at Amano's, practicing? Well, they had said they were going to grab dinner, and this was the area closest to those courts that had half-decent restaurants. Maybe they'd just lingered over their food talking, like he had with Atobe and Jirou. No big deal, right?

Ohtori reached out and flicked back a strand of dark green hair that had fallen over Amano's face, and Shishido's heart spasmed again. How many times had Ohtori done that to him, during those nightly practices back before he'd cut his hair, before he'd won his spot as the junior's partner? It would have taken torture to get him to admit it, but one of the things Shishido missed most about his long hair was the way Ohtori's nimble musician's fingers would slide briefly through the locks, pushing it away from his sweat-streaked face.

He realized he was growling under his breath again, and forced himself to stop. It wasn't as if he had some kind of monopoly on Ohtori's touches. His partner was a friendly, affectionate guy, and hell, he'd seen him touching Amano like that before, at the orchestra practice.

Though come to think of it, the sight of it had hit him pretty hard then, too.

The breath seemed to freeze in his lungs for a long moment as he realized something else - Ohtori hadn't touched him today. At all. It wasn't just the fact that he hadn't completed their usual pre-game ritual, he hadn't so much as brushed against Shishido in passing. What happened to the casual hand on his shoulder, the brief touch at his wrist, to get his attention or maybe just for the reassurance of the tactile contact? Sometimes it had seemed like Ohtori couldn't go five minutes without touching him, and he'd certainly never gone an entire match without doing it.

Without him even being conscious of having made a decision, his feet were carrying him forward over the low rail separating the foot traffic from the cars. The streets in this area were busy, but not so much that a fast person couldn't dart through the traffic to the other side of the street if he was careful. "Hey, Choutarou!" he called over the sound of the irritated honking from the drivers behind him.

Obviously surprised, his partner turned around. "Shishido-san! You shouldn't run across the street like that, you could get hurt!"

Amano just regarded him quietly, with a reserved expression. Perhaps it was just politeness that kept him from interjecting in a conversation between his friend and a person he didn't know well, but Shishido once again got the sense that Amano didn't like him much. Maybe it was the closed look in his pale eyes - they were silver, he realized incongruously, and they matched Ohtori's hair almost exactly. Why did even that bother him?

"Sorry, Choutarou, I thought I'd lose you if I waited for the crosswalk," Shishido said unrepentantly, firmly turning his thoughts away from the pianist and onto his partner where they belonged. "I was going to call you, but I saw you and figured I'd just ask. I, uh, forgot at the game today... you're coming to my birthday party, right?"

Well, that had come out sounding a bit more pleading than he'd have liked. Shishido cleared his throat and took a casual pose, one hand tucked into his pocket and the other holding his racquet bag strap over his shoulder.

Ohtori looked surprised. "Birthday party?" he repeated, blinking in confusion. "But Shishido-san, I thought you said you hated birthday parties and never had them?"

Oops, he'd forgotten he'd told his partner that. He shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah, well... if I didn't have one myself, I have a sneaking suspicion Atobe was going to do something. He's into that whole event planning kick this year, you know."

That surprised a genuine snicker out of his partner. Ohtori covered his mouth politely, but his brown eyes were dancing over his hand. "No, that wouldn't do at all," the junior murmured when he'd recovered. "Knowing him, he'd probably decide he needed to top what he did for Kabaji's birthday."

"Gods, don't remind me," Shishido groaned, and then they were both laughing. Perhaps it was petty of him, but the confused look on Amano's face at the joke he was excluded from made Shishido feel a bit better. "Yeah, so. It's just gonna be the guys from the team, not a big deal. You'll be there, right?"

"It's this Thursday, right?" Ohtori asked, tilting his head, and Shishido felt warmed by the fact that his partner had remembered the date without needing to ask. "Of course I'll come. Sakaki-sensei has us doing solo practice every day this week, but Hiyoshi and Kabaji have tennis too, so I'll just come over with them after practice is done. All right?"

"Sounds good," Shishido confirmed, glad they at least had that settled. "And we can talk then about times to meet and play, so we don't end up going so long without seeing each other again, all right?" Ohtori's eyes widened slightly, as if he was surprised by the offer, but he nodded and smiled.

"Yes, Shishido-san. We'll do that," the younger boy said, and the softness in that smile warmed Shishido right down to his toes. Geez, was he coming down with a fever or something? He'd never been so eager for the sight of Ohtori's smiles before.

Then again, he'd never had to work so hard to get them before, either. Maybe he'd been taking them for granted. "I guess you'd better get to your practicing," Shishido said magnanimously, cocking his head at the two juniors. "Nice to meet you, Amano. Good luck with the concert."

He watched them leave, and for some reason it seemed to him they were walking just a bit farther apart than they had been before he'd caught up to them. He shook his head - he was imagining things.

Some impulse made him call out, just before they were out of speaking range. "Choutarou?" When his partner turned back once more, quizzically, Shishido asked, "Why didn't you tug on my cap?"

There was a silent moment between them, and he saw Ohtori's eyes widen with shock at his words. Shock, followed by darkness and an unexpected ache so deep it left Shishido breathless. "Because," the younger boy said slowly, his voice as heavy with sorrow as his eyes were. "I'm starting to think maybe some things really are impossible."

With that he turned and was gone before Shishido could gather his thoughts enough to reply. Somehow, as he stared after the two juniors, the knowledge that he hadn't been imagining the hidden meanings of their ritual didn't comfort him in the least.

Return to Tennis no Ouji-sama Page

Return to the Main Index

Email Miko no da