Disclaimer:  Tennis no Ohjisama is the property of Konomi Takeshi.

Author's Notes:  Well, I never expected to write another story this semester, least of all in the short amount of time it took.  The thought stuck with me for a while, and I guess I just decided to write it.  The dialogue is supposed to be the focus in the story, with the details and such secondary until it reaches certain points in the story.

Mission Impossible

By CalicoKitten

"Just watch.  You'll see," Mizuki whispered quietly, ducking past the tree and looking around to see if anyone was watching.

"I never said anything about doubting you, Mizuki-senpai," Yuuta replied, following Mizuki without any of the other's stealth.

Mizuki frowned at him.  "My notes are absolutely perfect.  There's nothing that's going to go wrong this time."

"That's what you told me the last two times."

"It's going to work today!" St. Rudolph's manager sent an annoyed look over at the younger player, and his eyebrow twitched as Yuuta stepped on and broke yet another noticeable twig on the ground.

"Really."

Crack.

"Of course."

Crack.

"Sure."

Crack.

"Stop that!" Mizuki hissed, grabbing Yuuta's arm and dragging him quite loudly onto the ground next to him.  "You're going to draw attention to us!"

Yuuta sighed heavily and relented to sitting behind the tall bushes bordering the tennis courts.  "No, it won't.  He's too focused to hear us."

Mizuki poked his head out of the bushes conspicuously.

"…or to see us…"

The older boy pointedly ignored the statement.

Yuuta sighed.

                                                                     ***

Checking his watch for the third time in a minute, Yuuta groaned, stretching his arms over his head.  "We've been here for two hours already.  He's not going to show."

Mizuki hastily shoved his arms back down, giving Yuuta his second death glare of the day.  "Stop that!  And he will, I know it!"

"You say that as if you've known him forever," he replied, lying backwards on the grass to stretch instead.

A smirking face soon obstructed his view of the white clouds above.

"Oh?  Are you jealous, Yuuta?"

Yuuta immediately blushed, as he always did whenever the other began to flirt with him.  "No!  Quit it with that already!"

"You're just fun to tease," Mizuki shot back, winking unabashedly at the redness crossing the other's cheeks.

Waving a hand to drive him away, Yuuta perked up when he heard a noise near the tennis courts.  He grabbed Mizuki's hand, pointing with it towards the sound.

"Look!  I hear something!"

The other boy snatched his hand back, rolling his eyes.  "Looking and hearing are two completely different things.  Would you like me to do one or the other, or both?"

"Just do both!"

Mizuki sighed and decided to please Yuuta by sticking his head out of the small opening in the bushes, giving him an excellent view of the lone tennis player that had been there for quite some time.

He waited, eyes ready to catch any movement.

…

Five minutes passed.

…

"Yuuta," he complained, throwing his arm out aimlessly in hopes of hitting the other without diverting his line of sight.  "Nothing's happening."

Yuuta nonchalantly batted his arm away.  "No!  Over there by the other door!"

Sighing, Mizuki reluctantly moved his gaze over to the opposite metal doors just as they were being opened.  A slender figure came into view, sporting a matching tennis uniform with the one already on court.

"Ah.  I told you he'd come.  Doesn't he just appear marvelous today?"

Scowling, Yuuta replied, "I hadn't noticed."

"But you're the one who saw him first – surely you admit he's beautiful?"

The brown-haired boy glared at him, averting his eyes when Mizuki again smirked at him.  "I wouldn't go that far."

"Whatever you say, Yuuta-kun," Mizuki replied casually, quickly running a hand through his hair to remove the locks dangling in his face.  "It seems – oh look!  He's noticed his buchou!  What fun!"

"Fun?" said Yuuta, skeptical.  "Should we be spying on them?  It doesn't seem right."

Scoffing at such a question, Mizuki grabbed his bag and began rummaging through it frantically, determined to find something.  "Don't be ridiculous.  I'm the one that set this up.  I called Kajimoto-kun on his cell phone pretending to be his crazy manager, didn't I?  I researched Wakato-kun's daily practicing routines and locations, right?  If there was any person who didn't belong here, it's you, Yuuta dear.  But it's okay because I invited you."

"But what's the point of spying when we can't even hear what they're saying?  Shouldn't we get closer then?"  Yuuta asked exasperatedly, tempted to throw up his hands and get noticed just to annoy the older boy.

Mizuki sniffed disdainfully at the thought of moving.  "No.  This is the perfect spot.  We can see everything clearly from here.  We don't have to move."

"But," Yuuta persisted, "we can't hear what they're saying.  I thought you wanted to get the 'inside information' on them."

"Well, of course," the dark-haired boy responded, only slightly distracted by his dig into the stuffed bag.  "Kajimoto-kun was my temporary doubles partner.  And because I'm nice to my occasional doubles partner – occasional, mind you, as I'm so good at singles – I've decided to make him happy."

Ignoring the self-praise, Yuuta joked, "You?  Nice?"

Throwing an empty water bottle at the other's head, Mizuki glowered at him.  "Hey!  You know I'm nice.  Well…sometimes…but very nice if I put my mind to it!  And…oh!  Here it is!"

He pulled out a black object.

Curious, Yuuta asked, "What's that?"

Smiling widely, Mizuki fiddled with some switches before answering calmly, "It's kind of like a one-way cell phone…"

"Mizuki!"

"What?" Mizuki replied irritably.  "You know, Yuuta, you can really try my patience.  Here I am, inviting you here, and you just scold me.  Now be quiet.  I want to hear what they're saying."

He pushed the little red button labeled ON, and Yuuta wondered if all the button pushing from before had really been necessary.  Static flickered briefly through the device, and Mizuki pushed the antennae this way and that before two distinct voices could be heard.

"He even has the nicest timbre in his voice…"

"Didn't he reject your advances?"

Mizuki shot yet another death glare at Yuuta.  "No!"

"Sure…"

"…Shut up.  Let's see what's going on."

He turned the volume on the black box higher, and they could hear, as well as see, everything clearly.

Wakato's voice drifted out of the little spying equipment.  "Kajimoto!  What are you doing here so late?"

The captain of Shounan glanced around the tennis courts briefly before answering, "I got a call from sensei.  At least I think it was sensei…it didn't really sound like her, but she might have been in one of her moods…"

He paused to scrutinize Wakato, eyeing the tennis racket in the other's red hand.  "What are you doing here?  You've been here a while, haven't you?"

"At least two freaking hours, yes," Yuuta muttered bitterly at the portable spyware, jabbing a stick mercilessly into the soft ground beneath it.

Mizuki whacked him with the empty water bottle again.  "Be quiet!"

Groaning, Yuuta complied, listening with a bored expression as he heard Kajimoto say, "You've been here for four hours?!"

From his vantage point, he watched as Wakato scratched the back of his head sheepishly, digging the toe of his sneaker into the clay in a manner uncharacteristic of the flirtatious tennis player.  "Uh…yeah, I guess so.  I haven't really noticed the time…"

Kajimoto sighed, the sound heard even over the portable intercom, and it was Yuuta's turn to whack Mizuki with the water bottle when he grew hearts in his eyes at the small noise.

"You're working yourself too hard.  It isn't good for you."

Still scuffing his sneaker against the ground, Wakato shrugged while walking over to his knapsack on the benches beside the courts.  "I'm making up for several years of not having my own tennis.  I have to practice a lot for lost time."

He rummaged through the bag in a manner not unlike Mizuki, shoving stuff aside in order to find a small jar full of cream.  Trying to open it, he winced as the metal lid scraped against his red palm.

"Here.  Let me open that for you."

Kajimoto took the jar carefully from his teammate's hand, twisting the lid in one deft movement.  Examining the labels on the jar, he asked, "Is this for when you practice so much, your racket begins to chafe your hand?"

"No…I mean, it's used for that, but I don't have to use it that much…"

"Which is why the jar is almost empty," Kajimoto replied, amused.  Sitting down on the metal bench, he motioned for Wakato to sit next to him as he removed a liberal amount of cream with his fingers.

The orange-haired player began to protest as his captain began to rub the cream onto the red spots of the other's hand.  "I can do that myself…"

"But why would you want to if Kajimoto's there to do it for you?" Mizuki pondered devilishly as he watched the scene unfold before him.

Confused, Yuuta turned to look at him.  "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on.  Don't you see it?"

"See what?"

"That.  Between them."

"What?"

"Oh, for the love of…" Mizuki threw up his hands in frustration, wondering about Yuuta's obvious naivety, denseness, or just plain annoyance.  "Can't you see what's going on between them?!  It's so obvious!  School girls, the interesting ones at least, would know what I'm talking about in an instant!"

Ignoring the rant completely, Yuuta replied, "I don't see it.  What am I supposed to see?"

Picking up the water bottle yet again, the older boy threw it with all his strength at his brown-haired teammate, only to have it bounce harmlessly off his raised arms rather than hit his face.  He scowled at him, ripping blades of the harmless grass upon which he was sitting.

"The sexual tension!  Don't you feel it?!"

Yuuta looked at him as if he was insane.  "What?  Between them?"

"Yes!"

Glancing over at the pair, Yuuta considered it for a moment, head upturned.  After a moment, he looked back at Mizuki and said, "No.  Not really."

Mizuki smacked him with the bottle.  "How can you not?!  Just look at them!"

"Is that better now?" Kajimoto's voice asked over the speaker that Mizuki thought masked the rich quality of his voice.

"Aa.  Arigato, Kajimoto."

Kajimoto patted the back of Wakato's hand as he gently rubbed the last of the cream in.  "Anytime.  You should try not to overdo it, though."

"I'll try not to," Wakato replied quietly, and on closer inspection, Yuuta noticed that his cheeks were flushed red.

"If you're talking about the fact that Wakato-san is red, it's just because he practiced for so long in the sun."

"No, it's not!" Mizuki practically shrieked, pointing indistinguishably towards the hands of the tennis players.  "Look!  They're practically holding hands!"

Rolling his eyes, Yuuta decided to let Mizuki keep to his own conclusions by keeping silent.  He peered at the ground, noticing that he had dug a fairly large hole in the ground and wondering vaguely what he should do with it.

"Are you going home now?" asked Shounan's captain, bending over at an impossible angle to return the jar of cream to his friend's tennis bag.  "We could walk together."

Wakato coughed lightly, pulling gently on the strings in his racket.  "No, not yet.  I think I might stay a little longer.  But thanks for the offer."

At the word 'offer', Mizuki chuckled suddenly, leaving Yuuta clueless.

"I don't think I want to know what you're thinking," he told him, stubbornly trying to dig a large rock out of the new hole in the ground.

"Probably not."

"Ahh, Kajimoto?  What are you doing?"

Kajimoto paused in taking out his own sleek tennis racket, skillfully managing to zip his case at the same time.  Tightening the earring in his left ear once he was done, he answered, "Oh, I hope you don't mind if I join you?"

The proclaimed ladies' man looked slightly uncomfortable at the request, patting his hair unconsciously into place.  "I, um, don't want you to play with me if you feel obligated to or anything…"

"Don't be ridiculous.  I never feel obligated to do anything with you, Wakato."  The lean boy responded, smiling gently at the other to ease his slight discomfiture.  Walking over to Wakato's side of the court, he added, "I can help you develop your own serve, if you'd like.  I know that's what you've been working on for the last week or so."

"…I'd like that, if you don't mind," the other boy told him honestly.  "Actually, would you mind if you served just once?  I want to see how it fits your style."

"Sure."  Picking up a tennis ball and moving to the back line, Kajimoto bounced the ball a few times before he held it up to serve.

"Ooh.  He's serving!" Mizuki pointed out, and Yuuta was reminded of the hordes of girls that constantly swamped the other observer on the courts.

"Stop fawning over him!"

"I can't help it.  Besides, I fawn over you, but you don't even seem to notice," Mizuki said indignantly, turning his nose into the air.  "And…oh!  He's going to serve!  Look at how flexible he is!"

Yuuta had to admit that Mizuki was right as he watched the captain bend parallel to the ground while still managing to keep his feet firmly planted on the clay.  With a quick, whiplike motion, his body and arm moved as one, striking the tossed tennis ball with tremendous force.

"Wow, that was fast," Yuuta murmured appreciatively as the ball hit the ground at an incredible speed, bouncing off of it and into the chain-linked fence surrounding the court.

"Yeah, just think of all of the interesting positions he could get into…" Mizuki replied thoughtfully, obviously misinterpreting Yuuta's statement.

Yuuta gave him a look.  "That wasn't what I was going for."

"Whatever you say," Mizuki responded, eyes locked on the two on court.

"So?  How was I?" Kajimoto joked playfully, casually swinging his racket over his shoulder.  "Do I get an 'A' for effort?"

"Of course," Wakato shot back, his earlier unease vanishing.  Grabbing another tennis ball from the container, he went to stand by Kajimoto, bouncing it on the ground as the other did before.  "Let me serve now."

He bounced the ball a few more times on the clay surface, raising it in his hand afterward and adjusting his footing.  Throwing it up in the air, he seemed to pause just before hitting the falling object with his racket.

"Damn it!"

Yuuta glanced up from digging at the loud expletive, wondering at the nature of it.  "What was wrong with that serve?  It looked fine to me."

"He served like Davenport," Mizuki told him matter-of-factly.  "He shifted his feet at the last second to match her stance, and he hit it later than he should have because his body wanted to copy her style.  He's a master of copying, Yuuta, but he's trying not to now."

"Oh," Yuuta said intelligibly.

"I can't do it!  I spent so many years figuring out how others play!  I can't find my own tennis now!" the frustrated voice shot through the intercom with frightening clarity.

Kajimoto laid a comforting hand on the other boy's shoulder.  "Don't worry about it.  It's true that your body's trying to imitate other styles, but you shouldn't get too upset.  Sometimes your body reacts in that manner because the form's natural to it."

"Ah, what a smart boy, that Kajimoto-kun," Mizuki whispered to Yuuta, poking him none-too-gently in the ribs.  At Yuuta's confused gaze, he clarified, "He knows that since Wakato's practicing serves to find his own, some of the players' serves that he copied will show up, but that might be because he's comfortable with some of their characteristics."

"Ah," Yuuta said, again very intelligible.  "I understand."

"Of course you do.  I'm the one who told you, after all," Mizuki replied smugly, turning the volume on the portable equipment up a notch.

"Try to find a stance comfortable to you," instructed Kajimoto, examining Wakato's posture as the other did as he was told.  "Feel your arm as you draw it back – it should feel natural.  Your back shouldn't be too hunched forward because it's generally awkward if it is."

"Like this?" Wakato asked as he held the ball up, trying to relax his shoulders at the same time.

Kajimoto moved closer to Wakato, placing his own hand underneath the one holding the ball.  "Almost.  You don't look as if it feels right yet.  Try it like this."

With that said, he centered himself behind Wakato, his other arm finding its way to his waist and twisting it to the side slightly.  Holding the hand raising the ball, Kajimoto shifted it a bit, not seeming to notice his close proximity to the player he wanted to help.

At his actions, Mizuki hit Yuuta soundly with the plastic bottle, looking enthusiastic and triumphant.  He said, rather loudly, "See?  Look at that, Yuuta!  What did I tell you?"

Yuuta secretly thought Mizuki took too much pleasure in being right most of the time.  "He's just helping another player out with his form.  Do you always think that way, Mizuki?"

Mizuki glared at him as if he thought Yuuta was the stupidest thing in the world.  "Only when it's so obviously there!  I can't believe you don't see it!"

"That's because there's nothing there!" he finally snapped back, annoyed at being berated so.  "Now, if there was something more definite to go on…"

He stopped his rant when he realized the dark-haired boy wasn't even looking at him anymore.  Pausing in his staring at the two Shounan players, Mizuki gave him a quick nod, motioning with his head over to them while smirking like a Cheshire cat.

"I think you'll get 'something more definite' pretty soon, don't you think?"

With those words, Yuuta's eyes shot up to fixate on the other two tennis players.

He had just missed seeing Wakato serve the ball, as he no longer held one in his hand, but Kajimoto still stood closely behind him, hands in the same position.

"Um…Kajimoto…I think I'm better now," Wakato said sheepishly, laughing slightly to hide his nervousness.  He moved to dislodge the captain's hands, but they didn't budge.

Kajimoto leaned in even closer, his mouth right next to Wakato's ear, and Yuuta wondered if the little intercom thing would be able to catch what he said.

"Are you sure you don't want to try it one more time?"

On that note, Yuuta had to forcibly restrain Mizuki from possibly leaping and ranting that the older boy was right.  Batting his pointing fingers away, Yuuta strained to hear more.

"…I…uh…I think so, yes," Wakato replied, stumbling over his words in way that didn't seem to suit the normally suave tennis player.  Turning his head to the side to seek out Kajimoto, he froze when he saw that his captain's eyes were already trained on him.

"That's such a pity," Kajimoto sighed, pretending to be frustrated as he pulled the other closer, thumb gently stroking the skin beneath it.  "I really like helping you, you know."

And with that said, the chestnut-haired boy pressed his lips softly to the other's in a kiss that seemed to Yuuta incredibly sweet and chaste.  It didn't last that long, but as both boys drew away, slight flushes of red colored both of their cheeks.

Mizuki suddenly laughed loudly, startling Yuuta out of his entrancement at witnessing such an innocent kiss.  He scowled, irritated that Mizuki would ruin such a moment and his expectation that the dark-haired boy would squeal instead of laugh.

"I am so good!  So good!" Mizuki praised, lowering his voice only when he remembered that the two they were spying on were just beyond the metal fence.  "Do you have something to say to me, Yuuta?  Anything at all?"

"No," Yuuta replied stubbornly.  He continued before Mizuki could get another word in.  "I want to hear what they say next."

Looking back to the couple, he saw that Kajimoto had stepped away from Wakato, swinging his newly acquired racquet back and forth.

"I'm sorry.  I just wanted to know what that would be like," the captain told him unflappably, not at all disturbed that he had just kissed his teammate.  "I hope you don't disapprove."

The other boy gave him an incredulous look as he reached over, grabbing the racquet out of Kajimoto's hands and tossing it to the ground carelessly.  Kajimoto looked slightly offended at the negligent care of his precious tennis equipment until Wakato winked at him slyly.

"I was wondering what I would have to do to make you notice me.  Most people would be jealous over the stampede of girls that follows me every day, you know."

Reaching over again, he now grasped Kajimoto's chin, dropping his own forgotten racquet with a loud clatter on the clay court.  Pulling his captain over, he returned the kiss the other had given him with a longer one of his own.

"What I wouldn't give to be Wakato-kun right now…" Mizuki mused thoughtfully as he watched the supposedly private display of affection.  He sighed, feigning self-pity while pulling his bag over to him, ignoring Yuuta's protests as he 'accidentally' hit him with it during its retrieval.

"I suppose your mission was actually a success this time," Yuuta informed him, pushing the black bag the rest of the way to his friend as he poked at the ground a little more.

Mizuki nearly snorted but didn't, settling for scoffing at Yuuta instead.  "You suppose?  I told you it would work this time.  I finally got them together!"

"But that's what you said the last two times.  Are you saying that the third time's the charm?"

"Yuuta, be quiet," Mizuki told him, exasperated.  He flicked the OFF switch on his portable spy equipment and shoved it into his bag, making sure it was cushioned carefully so it wouldn't break.

"We're leaving?" questioned Yuuta as he gathered his own belongings together.

Mizuki nodded, crouching with his bag over his shoulder as he peered at the couple from Shounan.  "Our objective was to get them together.  We've accomplished that, so we can leave now."

Understanding dawned on Yuuta's face, and he glanced back at Mizuki as they silently crept away from the courts.  "Oh, I know why we're leaving now.  You just want to give them their time together, without us intruding.  Mizuki-senpai, I didn't know you were so nice."

Noticing that the water bottle was still back near the courts, Mizuki settled for hitting Yuuta soundly over the head with his bag.  "What's that supposed to mean?  Are you implying something?"

Yuuta simply smiled back.  "No, I'm not.  I just said what I've known all along."

"Ah!  So you admit you like me!" Mizuki shouted triumphantly, pointing accusingly at Yuuta.  "I knew it!"

Not really comprehending the leap to a totally different subject, Yuuta shrugged.  "I never said I didn't.  You're my friend, anyway.  Why wouldn't I like you?"

And Mizuki was suddenly next to him, clasping the sleeve of his shirt tightly.  Yuuta stopped walking, about to turn around when the older boy spoke.

"That's not the kind I was talking about, Yuuta," he spoke seriously, ruffling the other's brown hair in an affectionate manner.  "Although that kind is good as well."

He gave the short hair a soft pat before briskly walking off, bag draped over his shoulder.  Staring after him, Yuuta quickly brushed off the stray grass blades now lying on the top of his head and ran to catch up.

He stopped as he caught up to the other, pace slowing and matching Mizuki's.  Not looking at the other, he said, "Yeah.  Both are good to me."

And Mizuki smiled.

                                                                      ***

Meanwhile, at the tennis courts, Kajimoto and Wakato were just packing up to walk home together when the captain paused, frowning at the one of the benches.

"Wakato?"

"Yes?"

He bent down next to the bench, reaching behind one of the legs to produce a black object.

"What is this?"