A/N- My first time using and also my first time writing a fic that does not contain a horrible Mary Sue type character.

I'm not exactly sure where the idea came from but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Apologies if it seems a little choppy in places, I wrote each section seperately.

--

It had been during his second year that Yukimura first came face to face with Kirihara Akaya, the arrogant first year who was storming his way through practice and leaving carnage in his wake.

Normally Yukimura wouldn't have paid much attention, there were plenty of first years who thought that they were too good to be here, but there was something in Kirihara's eyes that Yukimura hadn't seen in a long time.

Determination.

Raw determination and a strong desire to win.

As was the Rikkai law there was no mercy and Kirihara was effectively crushed into the ground, courtesy of Yanagi, Sanada and himself, before he got too ahead of himself.

However, instead of his hopes dimming like Yukimura had seen in so many others, the determination in Kirihara's eyes flared even more and he had leapt to his feet, pointing his racket rudely at the three of them and declaring that he would beat the three monsters if it was the last thing he did.

Even the laps that Sanada assigned him for disrespecting his elders, despite appearances Sanada was not harsh enough to raise a hand against the first years, did nothing to quell the fire in his eyes as he set off running.

It was truly inspiring.

--

When Kirihara became a regular in his second year Yukimura couldn't honestly say that he was surprised, the boy had a lot of natural talent and coupled with his focus he was a worthy member of the team.

There had been criticisms at first about how a second year managed to get on a team that consisted solely of third year players but a couple of taunting words and a match later they grudgingly accepted that Kirihara had the skills to back up all of his talk.

Despite this sudden popularity though the determination that had first attracted him to Kirihara did not fade, a fact that made Yukimura even more curious about this mysterious second year.

"Akaya,"

It was in the clubroom that Yukimura decided to voice the question that had been on his mind for a while now. Most of the regulars had left by now, leaving only Sanada, Yukimura and Kirihara behind.

The second year paused in his attempt to pull out his bag, which he had had stuffed into his locker, and tilted his head in acknowledgment towards his captain.

"Why do you play tennis?" Out of the corner of his eye Yukimura saw Sanada raise his eyebrows but he could tell that the vice-captain was just as curious as he was.

"To be the best," Kirihara's reply came quickly, without much thought put into it, as he slung his now free bag over his shoulder.

"I see, and why did you join Rikkaidai?"

This time there was a pause as Kirihara turned to face him and once again Yukimura could see the determination hidden within those dark eyes.

"Because they were the best," Came Kirihara's reply after a moment before he inclined his head politely and excused himself, leaving his captain behind deep in thought.

--

Kirihara did not cope well with pressure, that was something Yukimura had observed over the time that they spent training together.

Whenever a test or an important event was coming up Kirihara would become tetchy, no longer joining in with the usual banter between Marui and Niou, and even snappier than usual. Pretty soon everyone was aware of this and learned when to leave him alone.

Thus when Kirihara started to display his violent tendencies during matches nobody commented on it, leaving him to vent his frustrations in the way he felt best.

Even Yukimura kept quiet. Truth be told though he didn't like Kirihara's style of play, he felt it cheapened the boy's whole tennis and went against what he had told him in the clubroom that day.

Kirihara had wanted to be the best and yet he felt he could not do that without turning bloodshot and ruthlessly destroying his opponent. It was disheartening to say the least.

"Maybe this is his limit," Sanada commented one day, moving over to where Yukimura was standing at the side of the court, watching Kirihara's match against a third year non regular.

Kirihara was in bloodshot mode, his expression maniacal as he whacked the ball fiercely towards his opponent's body, but his eyes betrayed him.

Even with them dark red with bloodlust Yukimura could still see the willpower hidden within them, the desire to win, and it caused him to shake his head slowly.

"No, he has great potential."

He just hasn't realised it yet.

--

When Yukimura fell ill and had to have his surgery his first thought was not for his own health, somewhere deep down he knew that he would not let this disease stop him from playing tennis again, but for the team. They were well on their way to the Nationals and he could not just leave them to fight by themselves.

Of course when he had voiced these concerns his team had dismissed them swiftly, telling him confidently that nothing was going to stop them from bringing back the Kantou tournament medal and the opportunity to go to the Nationals with their unbroken record.

He believed them.

So when Sanada came to report their loss to him he had gotten angry, even going so far as to chuck the vice-captain out of his hospital room.

Not long after Sanada had left Kirihara came to see him, looking almost as angry as Yukimura felt, but with a faint air of satisfaction around him.

Kirihara had seated himself beside his captain and started to describe his match in vivid detail, every emotion he had felt during the match against Fuji Syuusuke, while Yukimura listened impassively, somehow not wanting to kick out Kirihara like he had done to Sanada.

As he spoke Kirihara's voice got steadily louder, his fists clenching against the blankets of Yukimura's hospital bed. When he had finished he had looked up, meeting Yukimura's eyes with a look of grim determination.

"I know that it was probably my fault that we lost but I'm not going to apologize for trying my hardest."

Yukimura was stunned by the maturity that Kirihara was showing.

"Hey, Akaya," Yukimura said eventually, "Do you want to have a match with me?"

--

When the day finally came that Yukimura was allowed to play tennis again he arrived at the deserted Rikkaidai courts earlier than he expected but Kirihara was already there and waiting for him, tennis racket gripped tightly in his hand.

Hardly any words were exchanged besides the standard greetings as both males warmed up, each one lost in their own thoughts and expectations for the match, and then took their places at opposite sides of the court.

Yukimura could see the determination shining in Kirihara's eyes, the same determination that was there the first time he had ever laid eyes on the younger boy.

He was bouncing on the balls of his feet impatiently, a huge grin on his face as he waited for his captain to serve. The excitement was contagious and so Yukimura served without a word, watching as Kirihara accurately judged the path and returned it.

"Are you sure you're okay? You haven't been out of hospital that long." Kirihara called as he lurched to return another ball.

"I think you should worry about yourself," Yukimura replied mildly. There was no way that he was going to go easy just because Kirihara was a team mate, this was the perfect opportunity to see what he was made of.

The light rally intensified over the course of the next few minutes, Kirihara's face was screwed up in complete concentration as he fought to return the balls. That is until he slipped, sprawling ungracefully to the ground as the ball rolled past him.

"Are you okay Akaya?"

"I'm fine," Kirihara's voice was lower than usual as he pushed himself to his feet. Yukimura knew what was coming, even when Kirihara had his back to him.

Sure enough when the second year turned around his eyes were narrowed, stained a dark red, and he was wearing a superior smirk. Inwardly Yukimura felt the flicker of hope that maybe Kirihara might have changed, or realised the error of his tennis at least, fade away a little as he got into his receiving position.

He watched as Kirihara squeezed the ball between his knuckles, his grin growing larger, and then threw it into the air, creating an irregular spin on the ball, before serving.

Though he had never been on the receiving end of a knuckle serve before Yukimura knew exactly what to expect and so prepared to dodge out of the way of it's destructive path.

To his surprise though the ball merely spun on the ground a few times before shooting off to the side, completely avoiding Yukimura's body.

Immediately he looked up to face Kirihara but the boy had already turned away to return to his serving position, pulling another yellow tennis ball from out of the pocket of his shorts.

"Ready?"

This time Yukimura was able to return the serve with relative ease, not having to worry about dodging out of the way, and another rally started up.

With Kirihara in his bloodshot mode his speed and accuracy were vastly improved compared to last time and Yukimura found himself actually working to return the balls, all of which he realised would always steer clear of his body.

Even the shots that Kirihara used as finishing shots, such as his tactic of smashing at a specific point on the opponents body, were changed so that instead they went straight past him.

Pretty soon they were both so engrossed in the game that they didn't bother to keep track of the score, all that mattered was the steady thwack of the ball hitting the racket and the thudding of feet against the court.

Yukimura felt exhilarated, this was exactly how he imagined playing tennis should feel. Playing simply for the fun of it without having to worry about tournaments or trying to impress anyone.

Just raw emotion poured into every shot, a fierce desire to win against the opponent opposite him.

The same desire he saw reflected in Kirihara's eyes.

--

The sun was setting before they mutually decided to stop due to sheer exhaustion. Almost as soon as Yukimura had nodded Kirihara had let the racket slip from his hand, sprawling flat on his back as he panted heavily.

Yukimura was not much better but he was able to walk over to Kirihara's side of the court and flop down cross legged next to his team mate, the adrenaline from the match still leaving him on a high.

There was silence for a few minutes as Yukimura waited for Kirihara's breathing to even out, idly playing with a strand of his black hair. Kirihara had his eyes closed, relaxing against his captain's touch. After a while Yukimura spoke.

"You didn't aim for me," It was a simple statement, betraying none of the confusion, and slight pride, he felt.

"You're my captain, Sanada would kill me if I had you sent back to the hospital."

"Ah," Yukimura's hand stopped moving, "I see."

"Besides," Kirihara cracked open one eye, grinning up at Yukimura, "I don't need to do that to beat you."

Maybe, just maybe, Yukimura had been right about his potential.

--

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