AN: This fic is supposed to be a super-long one shot, however I decided to cut it into separate parts. As I said before, this is a gift for Kunshi Sekijou's birthday- a weird one, I guess. Nonetheless, happy birthday!

In this story, any OOC or inaccuracy in Kazuya's personality or playing style are intentional for the sake of character development. I did not go into detail with the match because I'm not really familiar with a tennis game, but I hope you readers can enjoy it nonetheless.


Kazuya never like tennis in the first place.

From early age, he was given every form of education necessary to prepare him to be an athlete. Starting when he was four, his parents especially built a gym for him. Then Kazuya was enrolled to a sport-inclined school, both in his primary and secondary year. All of these were due to his father's long-dead ambition to become a pro sportsman- a tennis player, in particular- that was forcefully passed down onto his only son.

Kazuya himself held no grudge towards sport nor tennis, however his father's constant reproach of his unsatisfying skill bore hatred in Kazuya towards tennis. Why does his world only revolve around his tennis skill? It made him felt like a machine, developed for none other than to be a successor of his father's ambition.

The straw that break the camel's back was his enrollment to his junior high school tennis club. Eight years of forced tennis was enough, and he desired to be under his control no more. He tried negotiating with his parents, only to end in vain. His father was as stubborn as a mule that his mother never had a chance to speak up, let alone Kazuya himself.

The next step of his rebellion was to remain absent from the club to the point where he would be expelled. He was successful, at least until that fateful day.

Lesson had just ended for the day. Kazuya immediately started packing his bags, ready to walk away from his assigned club once again. At that point, it was no longer a secret. The captain, the members, and even his parents knew of his absenteeism, nonetheless no one was able to stop him. Or rather, they did not bother to.

"Kazuya-kun!"

The brunette nearly jumped off his seat. The call was unusually loud and rude, considering how those who refer to him without any hesitance were always a stranger yet his ears failed to pick out any sign of politeness. He frowned at the intruder.

A blond-haired sophomore was leaning against the door, his eyes returning the stare. "Pack your bags quick, Kazuya-kun. The practice will begin in three minutes." The warning came with a smile which made Kazuya frowned harder.

Practice? What practice? Kazuya wondered as reluctantly shuffled the remaining of his school utensils inside his bag. He slung his bag casually over his shoulder and made his way to where the sophomore was. Curiosity made his feet stopped right in front of him.

And he had wanted to kill himself for that.

"Let's go, Kazuya-kun!" The sophomore abruptly gripped the younger's wrist and dragged him away from the classroom. Kazuya tried to tug his wrist away but to no avail. He dug his heels onto the floor, trying to halt the movement, only to end up sliding along the hall. Composure was slowly fading and he was about to yell at the stranger when he suddenly introduced himself.

"I'm Irie Kanata by the way."

"I don't care about your name. Where are you taking me?" Kazuya demanded, forgoing all his escape endeavors.

"Nice to meet you." Irie smiled with his eyes shut, completely ignoring Kazuya's question. Silence stretched between them as Kazuya silently struggled to free himself from the death grip. He refused to scream like a damsel in distress, at least not when no serious danger was eminent.

As the struggle continued, Kazuya decided to analyze his opponent. The Irie guy still had his school uniform on, the top buttons weren't hooked revealing a white shirt beneath. He brought no other things with him, not even bags, just himself. His eyes were focused ahead, as if he was expecting a waylay every time they passed through a door.

The time taken for them to exit the school building was unexpectedly short, as if they merely teleported themselves out. Kazuya fixed his eyes straight at the school gate, but they quickly replaced as Irie suddenly took a sharp left turn. It nearly tipped Kazuya off balance, but mostly it tipped off Kazuya's focus.

Everything was suddenly a blank after the surprise until the sound of something pounding onto the ground reached his ears. Eyes wide in revelation, he jerked his wrist away from the death grip, again to no avail.

"I have no intention of joining the tennis club, senpai." Kazuya exclaimed bitterly, persistently trying to get his wrist go now that he understood Irie's motive. Kazuya never wanted to play tennis. It's his father's dream to become a pro, not his!

"But your name is in the list of members, Kazuya-kun" Irie replied with a smile so genuine-like that it urged Kazuya to punch his face, and he would if civilization had not held him back.

Kazuya continued to be dragged towards one of the tennis court. Inside, members of the team were lining up horizontally facing the captain and the coach. The captain seemed to be giving instruction while the coach watched intently. A revolting sight.

Kazuya had not expected Irie to suddenly picked up his speed and made a grand entrance to the court by slamming the net gate so hard that the the metallic rattle pierced through the order and silence everyone. The spotlight promptly shifted to them.

"You're a minute late, Irie." The captain reprimanded.

"I'm sorry, buchou." Irie apologized with a light shrug, the smile once again plastered on his face. "It takes some time to bring our member here."

Hearing Irie's reasoning, Kazuya opened his mouth to speak up. "I'm sorry but I am not-"

"We'll run twenty laps, then we'll have a little practice match. Is that okay, buchou?" Irie proposed before Kazuya finished speaking. He earned an infuriated disapproval look from the brunette.

The captain sighed. "Do what you want." He waved his hand in dismissal. His glare went towards Kazuya, and a silent staring fight ensued. "Just make sure the brat will be ready to fight for the regular spot later."

Kazuya's eyes widened in shock. Disbelief and objection was clear on his face. "I told you that I am not-Whoa!"

Once again Kazuya was cut off by Irie, who purposely jerked Kazuya with all his power that he would have falled if not for the death grip on his wrist.

"Then we'll start our laps now buchou. Please excuse us."

Irie gave a slight bow before dragging him out from the court, although Kazuya could sense a difference in his manner. The event inside the court changed his manner in handling Kazuya. Somehow, he felt, it became rougher.

Once they stepped out of the net gate, Irie silently released his grip on the freshman. Kazuya brought out a hand reflexively to rub his sore wrist, without breaking eye contact with the sophomore. He tried looking for the answer in his eyes, only to find emptiness.

"Does my father bribe you into doing this?" Kazuya demanded, blurting out the first idea that came into his mind.

Irie gave him a confused look. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his face looked almost too innocent.

However Kazuya believed not a single word coming from him. "Two months had passed with my absence in the tennis club. There's no plausible reason why anyone would demand my presence, unless my father..." Kazuya frowned at the last word, the rest of the sentence fell into silence.

The face of his father, and his ambition echoed inside his head. He snapped his eyes shut in contempt, trying to drove them away.

"Kazuya-kun?" Irie spoke up, snapping Kazuya's attention back. Irie's face still looked too innocent. "I don't know about your father and all, but your name has been listed as a member for months now. True, you have been dormant for quite some time, but lately rumor has it that you look down upon the club and vow for a place as a regular."

Kazuya remained silent and still, trying to absorb all those lies.

"I must say that you have some guts to challenge us like that." Irie chuckled. Extending one hand, he invited, "Shall we start our laps?"

Deep inside, Kazuya was trembling with the urge to snap at his sophomore and later his father, however his pride was in stake. False rumor had been spread, probably by his father, and he would be at the end of the sword unless he accepted them as truth.

Kazuya gulped. That was and would be the decision that would affect his life permanently. It was either he ran away from the responsibility shoved down his throat, or swallowed them.

"Very well."

And swallow them he did.


"Game and match, Tokugawa! 7 games to 5!"

Everyone couldn't believe the outcome of the match, not even Kazuya himself. Irie had agreed to be Kazuya's opponent for the regular spot after they had finished the laps, however the outcome was something that Kazuya had not expected at all. He only had the basics his father had taught him when he was younger, and now, he found himself in the grip of victory.

Perhaps it was because of the laps, Kazuya tried to convince himself. However he was too drunk with the victory- his first ever, to think rationally.

No one could find their voice to celebrate the freshman's victory. The closest thing to it was Irie's grinning pant, and the sweaty left hand he offered towards him across the net.

"Congratulation, Kazuya-kun. You're now a regular now."

That was the first time when Kazuya found Irie's extremely innocent smile pleasantry. Gathering all his remaining strength, he fumbled towards the net and accepted Irie's handshake. A faint smile slowly crept on his face.

Maybe father would praise me for making it into the regular.

Kazuya immediately shook his head at the ridiculous thought. But for now on, I have to endure playing tennis for a year...


AN: This time, I swear, I will finish this story!