Hi! Well, in celebration of Sanada's birthday, I bring you the first chapter of my first real Tango Pair AU, Hitomebore. The title translates into "love at first sight," which I thought fitted this in a nicely understated sort of way. In any case, this story is the polar opposite of Counting Days, and I've never written anything quite like it, so I hope you'll all enjoy it.

And before I shut up, I'd like to thank acantabloom for going over this first chapter with me. You really helped me smooth out the kinks and I greatly appreciate it!

And now, without further ado... Hitomebore!


Sanada watched, mesmerized, as the singer strode gracefully across the stage, shaking beads of sweat from his silver locks. He grabbed the guitar a stagehand presented to him, slinging the strap over his shoulder in one fluid movement and striking a flawless chord, before making his way back to the microphone. Closing his eyes, he lifted a slender arm, holding it high above his head. The entire arena fell silent, and Sanada could feel Marui quivering in anticipation beside him.

"Here it comes," the pink-haired boy whispered, hopping up and down in excitement. "He always closes with Energeia." Sanada turned back to the stage, trying his best to conceal his own feelings of elation. As fukubuchou once again, he had a responsibility to remain calm and collected, no matter what the situation may be. He glanced over at Yukimura, who was standing, arms folded elegantly across his chest, smiling serenely as usual. Yes, Sanada decided, this was no time to lose his composure.

Onstage, Atobe Keigo was still holding his arm straight, eyes closed in concentration. Sweat dripped down his porcelain skin, and his thin, long-sleeved shirt clung to his back. Taking a deep breath, he flexed his fingers across the fret-board of his guitar before lowering his arm, the opening chord of his final song nearly drowned out by the screams of the crowd.

--

"That was thoroughly enjoyable," Yukimura said, smiling, as they piled out of the stadium. "Wouldn't you agree, Genichiroh?"

"Ah." Sanada nodded, finding Yukimura's hand and intertwining their fingers. "He was very talented."

"Hehh? Sanada, I wouldn't expect you to enjoy something like that. You're usually too boring," Niou drawled.

"Niou-kun, that's rude," Yagyuu reprimanded, reaching to adjust his glasses. "And your point is a moot one, for I found the concert to my liking, and you are well aware of my taste in music.

"Yeah," Niou snorted, "and it's awful."

"You just proved yourself wrong, Niou-senpai," Kirihara pointed out, earning a gentle punch from the trickster.

"Shuddup seaweed-head, what the hell does a little baby like you know about anything?" he teased, ruffling the second-year's hair.

"'Mura-buchou," Kirihara whined, "Niou-senpai's being mean!"

"Niou, leave Akaya alone. Akaya, don't provoke your senpai," Yukimura warned.

"It was too bad he didn't play Existence," Marui commented, popping another bubble. "That's one of my favorites."

"I liked the song he opened with," Jackal offered. "What's that one called?"

"Broken," Marui replied. "Want the CD?"

"Perhaps." Jackal agreed. "That might be nice."

"Yeah, well, I liked that song where he rapped!" Kirihara exclaimed, hurrying to catch up with Marui. "Which one was that? Can I have the CD, too, Marui-senpai?"

"Why should I give it to you? You ate my birthday present, remember? I don't think you deserve it."

"Please? And that wasn't my fault, Niou-senpai said you had left it for me!"

"And you believed him?"

Kirihara frowned and nodded, crossing his arms.

"Akaya, you should know by now that there's a 93 percent chance that anything Niou offers you will ultimately turn out to belong to someone else."

"Ah, Renji, I was wondering where you'd gone to," Yukimura said, smiling.

"Gathering some data, and..." Yanagi fished around in his bag, finally pulling out a couple of discs. "Getting these. I'll burn everyone who needs one a copy."

"Waah, Yanagi-senpai's the best!" Kirihara cried, snatching the CDs from the data-master's hands. "Shoot Down, that's what it was called! 'You say, everybody needs somebody to love, mirai wo tsukamu tashika na Insight dare ni mo uranu kokoro no Inside...'" he began singing, clicking the discs together in time to the song.

"Akaya, it's impolite to grab," Sanada said, frowning. "Return the discs to Renji and thank him for offering to burn a copy for you."

"Fine... Sorry, Yanagi-senpai," Kirihara handed the CDs back, pouting. "And thank you for offering copies to me."

"You're welcome, Akaya," Renji replied, slipping the discs back into his bag. "Anyway, I discovered some rather surprising things about Atobe."

"Oh, like what?" Jackal asked, turning around. Marui whipped around as well, hands on his hips.

"Nothing that I don't know, I bet," he declared. "My genius isn't reserved for the courts. When it comes to Atobe Keigo, I know everything there is to know. His birthday's October 4th, but he's managed to keep his age a secret, which is awesome, isn't it? Anyway, his blood type is A, and he's 175 centimeters tall, exactly the same as you, 'Mura! But, the coolest part is, he's an empath," Marui exclaimed, sounding utterly awe-struck.

"That's quite impressive, Marui," Yanagi commented. "Much of the information I gathered today is similar, although I would consider his status as an empath to be something of an exaggeration, and I'm sure that with significant analyzation of his voice and build, one could closely determine his approximate age. I did learn of one trait you seem to be unaware of, however. He's very fond of sports, and has tentative plans to attend the upcoming tennis tournament, in which we'll be playing." Marui's mouth dropped open.

"Are you kidding, Yanagi?"

"No."

"I'm sure he'll end up having better things to do," Sanada remarked, squeezing Yukimura's hand. "Don't get your hopes up, Marui." Yukimura squeezed back, and gave him a soft smile.

"Of course, there's always the chance," he countered. "Wouldn't that be an honor, to play before someone so accomplished?"

"Ah," Sanada agreed, running a finger down the bus stop's timetable before glancing up. "Here's our bus."

"Oh, excellent," Yukimura said, smiling. He turned to face the rest of his team, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "Don't forget, morning practice starts an hour earlier tomorrow. I'll see you all then." He stepped onto the bus. Sanada followed, but paused halfway up the stairs.

"Don't be late, or you'll run," he ordered, before disappearing after Yukimura.

"Bye, Yukimura-buchou," Kirihara shouted, waving furiously. Yanagi lifted his hand in a silent farewell, before turning to face the rest of the team.

"Come on, Akaya, we'll ride the train together."

"All right, Yanagi-senpai," Kirihara replied. The pair set off toward the station, Kirihara talking nonstop and Yanagi nodding to fill the gaps.

Jackal, Marui, Niou, and Yagyuu wandered off not too long after, chatting amiably about the possibilities of Atobe appearing at their next match, and whether or not he'd be suitably impressed by the fact that while they weren't world-famous singers, they were quite good at tennis and had managed to hold regular positions since middle school.

"Not that he would know that," Yagyuu reminded them, and Marui sighed, nodding in agreement.

"Ah well, the best we can do is play our hardest," Jackal reasoned, earning a general grunt of consensus.

"Whew, but hell," Niou whistled, "I'd like to see Atobe play tennis. He would look damn hot in a pair of little white shorts, huh, Yagyuu?"

"That's a bit vulgar, Niou-kun," the bespectacled boy replied, but the way his glasses glinted in the moonlight suggested that he wasn't completely opposed to the idea.

--

The bus was relatively deserted, so Sanada and Yukimura had been able to locate a pair of seats near the back. They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, before Yukimura chuckled slightly and glanced at Sanada, his eyes twinkling.

"You're surprisingly good at faking enthusiasm, Genichiroh," he said, smiling.

"What do you mean?" Sanada asked, knitting his brows together in a frown. Yukimura raised his eyebrows.

"So you really enjoyed the concert?" he asked. Sanada nodded. "Oh," Yukimura said, sitting back in his seat. He glanced at Sanada again after a moment. "I assumed you had caught on and were humoring the team with me."

"I don't understand," Sanada said, his frown deepening. "Didn't you like it, too?" Yukimura laughed again.

"No," he replied. "But I knew Marui and Kirihara were fans, so I didn't want to disappoint them by not liking it."

Sanada nodded slowly. "Oh, I see."

"Well, I'm glad you had fun," Yukimura said, smiling up at him. "It's good for you to get out. You're so serious all the time, Genichiroh."

Sanada shrugged and relaxed into his seat. He couldn't count the number of times Yukimura had told him that. "You're too serious, Genichiroh." "Lighten up sometimes, Genichiroh!" "Enjoy life while you can, Genichiroh." He frowned slightly. He couldn't help the way he was. He took what mattered to him seriously. He didn't want to fail. He didn't want to let anybody down. Especially not Yukimura.

--

Atobe sighed and ran a hand over the latches of his guitar case, ensuring that they were properly closed before handing the case to a stagehand.

"That was a great show, Atobe-sama," the boy breathed, bowing as he accepted the guitar.

"As usual," Atobe agreed, pulling his sweat-soaked shirt over his head and tossing onto the floor. "Have someone bring me another shirt, will you?"

"Of course!" the boy cried, running off. Atobe slumped against an amp, closing his eyes and releasing a long sigh.

"Ten down, three more to go," he muttered.

"Yes, but a whole two weeks here in Tokyo," a voice interjected. "Oh, and before I forget, are you going to that tennis tournament on Wednesday, yes or no? I need to confirm with the manager of the event. There's talk of having you perform before the final match, but I don't want to stress your vocal chords before the next concert. If you can win over the Londoners, we'll be in excellent shape."

"I want to go," Atobe replied, massaging his temples. "And I'm not singing. It's tennis, not a football game, Oshitari. There is no half time show, and having me sing before the final match would simply be stressful for the players. Tennis is as much a psychological game as it is physical. It's best not to have too much time to think before a match."

"Well, well, aren't you just the little tennis genius," Oshitari drawled, pulling out his mobile. "I'll tell them you're coming, then, but refuse to sing. Happy?"

"Very. Which is good, considering that as my manager, it's your job to make sure I am," Atobe replied, rolling his eyes. "Who is playing on Wednesday? Anyone I would care about?"

"A few high school teams," Oshitari replied. "The current favorite is some school called Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku. The E.M. said we should watch out for four kids in particular–"

"I wouldn't call them kids, Oshitari," Atobe interrupted. "They're probably my age, and you're only four years older."

"You make me feel so old, Keigo," Oshitari chuckled. "In any case, do you want to know who these four kids are, or not?" Atobe gave a lazy nod, and Oshitari continued, rolling his eyes. "From Rikkaidai, the supposed 'Child of God,' Yukimura Seiichi. He's also captain of the team, and supposedly invincible. His vice captain, Sanada Genichiroh, is known as the 'Emperor,' and rumored to be equally undefeatable. Impressive, hmm?" Atobe shrugged. "Well, continuing on. Yanagi Renji, the 'Data-Master,' and finally, Kirihara Akaya, who has earned the nickname, 'The Devil.' I'm still not entirely sure if that's good or not."

"Could go either way, I suppose," Atobe replied, before stretching and pushing himself off the amp. "It doesn't mean that much to me. More importantly, can we leave yet? What the hell is taking so long?" Oshitari lifted his shoulders in a shrug and pulled a second phone out of his pocket. Dialing quickly, he lifted it to his ear and started toward the stage. Suddenly, he paused and turned back, a sly smile etched onto his face.

"They're probably still in the dressing room. I heard Shishido shouting something about Mukahi stepping on his guitars. And before you appear before the eyes of your adoring public, you might want to put a shirt on," he suggested. "You wouldn't want to tarnish your reputation as an untouchable god." Atobe scowled and chucked a headset at him, which he easily dodged.

"Asshole," he muttered, before setting off to find the rest of his band mates himself. As he turned a corner, a stagehand barreled into him, knocking him off balance. Atobe grabbed a guitar stand to stable himself and glowered at the young boy, who was sitting on the floor, looking slightly surprised.

"Oh, Atobe-sama!" he exclaimed, regaining his senses and jumping to his feet. He thrust a shirt into the pop star's hands, bowing deeply. "I'm so sorry! I went into the dressing room looking for you, but Shishido-san and Mukahi-san were throwing things at each other, so I had to run out, but Jiroh-san was sleeping in front of the door, so I tripped over him on my way out and crashed-"

"That's enough," Atobe hissed, pulling the shirt over his head. "You're excused." The boy nodded and bowed again before running off. Atobe stalked toward the dressing room, wrenching open the door. As he did so, a sweat-soaked shirt landed with a resounding thwack on the top of his head, the sleeve hanging over his eyes. With a growl, Atobe threw the shirt to the ground and glared around the room.

"Everyone out, now."


All lyrics and song titles in this chapter are not mine. They are official Prince of Tennis soundtracks.

Reviews are awesome. :) (A little like the Tango Pair, right? Hah.)