A/N: This is my first fanfic ever, but I don't know if it's that good, and I'm not a good writer. I only write for my own amusement. And english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for all the bad grammar and misspellings. I'm still learning. Please R&R! And just another warning; some of the sentences will probably seem really weird, but as I said, I'm still learning. And it isn't beta-ed.

This is kinda dedicated to Kamakari Kenta (Shishidou in Tenimyu) and Ootori Choutarou, and it's a late birthday fic. Omedetou!


Silver and Solid Steel


It struck him like a train; his body was numb. He stared at the monster in front of him; also called Tachibana Kippei. Tachibana's gaze pierced through him, and his hand which gripped the racquet started to shake.

"Set, game and match to Fudomine's Tachibana, 6 games to 0." The referee called out over the silent court, and he tried so hard to move; but it was impossible. He knew what lied ahead.

He was now utterly defeated, and therefore, he was useless to the Hyoutei team. It was like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. However, a sharp voice shook him out from the daze.

"Shishidou Ryou." He turned to look at the owner of the voice. "Return from the court." Atobe Keigo, the captain, said and Shishidou walked off the court with heavy footsteps. Atobe's voice was dripping with disappointment.

"Atobe..." Shishidou started, but Atobe held up a hand.

"Not now." It felt like someone was hitting him with an axe, over and over again. How had he screwed this up so badly?

They had lost against Fudomine Jr. High. The mood when they returned back to the school was dark, like a dark cloud hanging over them. But for Shishidou, it was ten times worse. He looked around at his teammates, all clad with the Hyoutei Regular jacket. He was too, but it would probably be the last time.

When he left the changing room, he gave the jacket to Atobe, who did not say a word. No one said a word to him as he left, because they knew that he wanted to be left alone; or they didn't care. After all, he had only been a regular for a little more than two weeks.

His grip around the black bag with Hyoutei Gakuen marked on it with silver letters tightened. Instead of taking the train, like usually did to get home, he walked around aimlessly. After a while, he arrived to the tennis courts. The light that lit the tennis courts was strong and bright, and the courts were empty. The sun had already started to set, and Shishidou went in to the courts. He took his racquet and a few tennis balls, and soon, he was standing at the service line. With anger flowing through his veins, he threw up the ball in the air. In one rapid moment, he swinged the racquet towards the ball, and the ball flew perfectly into the service court. Serve after serve was perfect. His play was pretty good. So why had he lost against Tachibana? He was better than that... or was he?

Doubt started to creep into his body.


It wasn't easy to return to the tennis courts of Hyoutei Gakuen two days later. He wasn't exactly happy to face Atobe, Oshitari and even Mukahi... But he went anyway. His love for tennis, and his need to get stronger was there, so he found himself standing in the never-ending lines of hundreds of normal members of the club. He hated this feeling; he wanted to become a regular once again. He knew that he was good enough. Silent lied over the courts, as the regulars appeared. Atobe went first, of course, and Oshitari and Mukahi were right behind him, along with Kabaji. Taka strolled along, playing with his racquet. Shishidou gritted his teeth.

"You ignorant little..." he muttered to himself, when he saw Taka play with his racquet, like he was actually safe. One loss and it would all be over. But Taka wasn't a bad person; just a little arrogant. And now, when he walked so carelessly along with the other regulars, playing with his racquet... Shishidou started to feel sick.

Behind Taka came Jirou and Hiyoshi. Jirou was yawning, as always. So there they were, the seven regulars. The last one, which used to be him, was missing. Maybe they haven't found one yet?

Atobe raised his hand, and the low mumbles in the crowd disappeared. He gave off his usual, sophistically smirk.

"The eighth regular..." he started, and Oshitari and Taka shot a glance at Shishidou, but he ignored them. He wasn't going to be pitied. Atobe continued.

"We'll announce the eighth regular tomorrow. Now, get to practice!" he said, and the lines quickly scattered. The first-years started at their regular swings, the second-years started to run their laps around the courts, and the third-years, like him, scattered around at the courts. The only courts that were free were the regulars' courts. He wanted to be there so badly. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Oshitari shoot him a last glance before he went off to the regulars' courts.

Oshitari was one of the regulars he liked the most. They had a lot of classes together, and they had been pretty good friends even before Shishidou had become a regular. Or well, friends weren't very important in Hyoutei Gakuen, seeing as the school wanted the students to be independent, or whatever. Therefore the cruel policy in the club. But Shishidou considered them friends, and he was pretty sure that Oshitari considered them friends too.

The training passed quickly. He quickly retrieved his bag from the non-regular club room, and then he went straight to the street courts. He wanted to become better; he had to become better. Otherwise Atobe would never let him be a regular again.

The street courts were almost empty. A few people were playing doubles, but he wanted to focus on his serve. Maybe he'd even find someone to play with.

His serve has gotten better. Even he could see that. He served, over and over again, and both the speed and the aim slowly got better. One of the doubles players came over, wanting a match with him. He agreed. He won the game.

When he went to bed that night, all he could think about was tomorrow; the eighth regular.


The classes quickly passed by, and he was in a daze most of the day. He got scolded a lot, because he wasn't listening. But that wasn't important right now. He wanted to know who the new regular would be. He wanted to know who had replaced him. He was nervous, he admitted that. He walked onto the court, and time couldn't pass fast enough. It seemed like it took forever for the seven regulars to get on the court. Every second-year and third-year in the lines was excited and nervous. After all, they had a chance to become regular. Atobe smirked, like he always did, before his mouth opened.

"After a long discussion, we've decided..." He paused, and it was painfully difficult to stand still for Shishidou as he waited. "... That the new regular..." Another pause. Everyone sucked in their breath. "... will be Ootori Choutarou."

Shishidou was dumbstruck. Who? Who the hell was that? He had never heard of him. If it was a second-year, he was going to be royally pissed. He wouldn't get replaced by a second-year!

A tall silver-haired boy stepped out from the line, and Shishidou curiously gazed at him. It wasn't a third-year. He gritted his teeth. It seemed like he had got replaced by a second-year that he didn't even know of. The boy – was it Ootori? – accepted the regular jacket that Oshitari held out for him, and Oshitari said something to Ootori that Shishidou couldn't catch. Slowly, a weird feeling started to spread in Shishidou's body. He knew that feeling, even if he hated to admit it.

Jealousy.