Title: Strange Flavor
Author: Mirai2
Summary: Mizuki's away for summer vacation, and Yuuta is left to practice on his own. Slash, strange flavor. Try it; you might like the taste.
It wasn't the first time Yuuta had seen him standing there. Practicing against the backboard as the sun shot its last rays of light over the courts, it was difficult to see the figure leaning against the tree. Yuuta couldn't discern anything beyond a white shirt and a book bag. When he picked up his racquet bag, the figure was gone.
The third time it happened, he was inside the court. Yuuta paused mid-serve, his heart jumping in his throat. The man had appeared so suddenly, right on the baseline. Yuuta threw the ball and served. He could tell it was a fault.
The man was writing in a notebook. Sadaharu Inui, Yuuta realized, Seigaku's data man, and felt immediately relieved. It was strange to see someone standing across the court from him in the half-light, but Yuuta couldn't help but be reminded of Mizuki's detached interest when he examined a tennis player. For some reason, it was reassuring. Yuuta continued practicing his serve with no more inaccuracy than he would suffer under Mizuki's gaze.
This time, when Yuuta put his racket away, he was still there. He stood by the gate with his notebook open and his pen paused in mid-thought. The dimming light reflected off the lenses of his glasses. His expression was unreadable. Yuuta's first thought was to walk by him as if he wasn't there, but for some reason he paused. Maybe it was the reminder of Mizuki.
"Are you almost finished?" Yuuta asked.
Inui inclined his head. "My data is 80 complete." He closed the notebook.
"I'll be here again tomorrow." There was, Yuuta thought, no point in trying to stop him. Whether it was at practice or at a game, the data would probably be the same.
And he was there the next day. They both were. This time, Inui stood next to him, at a distance of a few yards. For some reason, this put Yuuta on edge, and his first few volleys against the backboard were ill-timed. It seemed Inui realized this, because the next time Yuuta hit the ball, he wasn't in Yuuta's line of vision. After a few hits, Yuuta had forgotten he was there.
When the sky had turned from gold to gray, Yuuta retrieved his racquet bag.
"Thank you," Inui said, still writing with sure strokes in his notebook. It didn't seem to require a response. Yuuta wasn't sure if a response would even be heard.
The moon loomed huge over the horizon. A faint cool breeze stirred the thick air. Yuuta wiped his face with a towel, grateful for the temporary respite in the muggy evening.
"There's a storm coming in," Inui said in his ear, and Yuuta started. It seemed he made a habit of being in the least expected spot.
"Mm. I hope the trains are on schedule."
"The nearest stop is six blocks south. Were you going that way?" Inui asked.
"Yes. I think there's a bookstore near the stop? I need to pick something up."
"I was going that way myself," Inui offered. "My house is nearby and," a funny little twitch ran across his face. A smile, Yuuta wondered? "I need another notebook."
It seemed strange to be walking down the sidewalk with a former rival in the twilight. Rather, it didn't seem strange, and that was what was strange about it. Inui seemed preoccupied, so the walking in silence didn't feel uncomfortable. Yuuta's mind wandered.
"Are you doing profiles on all of the high school players, or just me?" Yuuta started at the sound of his own voice. He hadn't realized he was going to ask the question until he had already said it.
Inui looked over at him. Yuuta imagined that was the look he always got on his face, sort of booky and professor-like, when he discussed data he was collecting. "Some of my information is outdated. A few players in particular seemed to have improved drastically since I last recorded their statistics. You are one, Akira Kamio is another, and Harukaze Kurobane is the third. Yours was the most time-consuming analysis."
Yuuta nodded. It wasn't a compliment to say he had improved; given the amount of time he spent training, it would be an insult to say otherwise. "May I ask what you found?"
"You may," Inui said. He adjusted his glasses and flipped open his book. "Serve speed has increased 12, and accuracy has increased a remarkable 15. The best explanation for this is the extensive daily practice. With the backboard, it is difficult to accurately gauge volleying ability, but your speed and accuracy were both up considerably. It seems your rivalry with-" Inui closed the book. A drop of rain plinked off the waxy black cover. Then another.
Before he knew it, the steady fssssh of a heavy rainstorm had engulfed his hearing , and he was dashing over water-slicked concrete to escape the storm. Water dribbled down his nose and into his eyes, but he could see Inui's figure, one step ahead of him.
The bell jingled violently, and the door slammed shut, overlapping the sound of thunder. The owner barely glanced up from where he was, reading a paper at the counter. A few other sensible customers stood in the entrance, shaking off their umbrellas. Inui's notebook had disappeared into his schoolbag.
Yuuta found he was smiling. The mad dash in the cool rain had been exactly what he needed after the long hours of practice. He felt exhilarated and completely refreshed. He looked over at Inui, and saw that strange smile/twitch on his face again.
"Interesting. I didn't know you could run quite that fast."
"Neither did I," Yuuta said, somehow finding breath to say it. A laugh bubbled up out of nowhere. Despite Inui's much longer legs, he had kept up, and they had reached for the door at the same time.
"Well," Inui said, glancing over at the office supply section, "I'll go find my notebook." He had that preoccupied look about him again.
Yuuta nodded. He pulled the list out of his pocket. The top had been drenched and the red ink ran in little patterns so Yuuta could barely make out the title. He needed two books for the coming school year that he was expected to read over the summer, and his brother had asked him to pick up a book when he'd mentioned the school books over dinner.
The two for school were easy to find. They were propped up on the shelf, obviously popular based on the dozen or so copies. The third, the one for his brother, wasn't as simple. Yuuta squinted at the red lines, but it was no use. The title was a smudge of words, and the author had been smeared off the page altogether.
"My..?" Yuuta wondered out loud. The first word was either "my" or "by". "Broken…"
"My Brother's Keeper," a nearby voice suggested. For a moment, Yuuta thought Inui had come back. The shopkeeper, an older man with a sharp look to his face, smiled up at him.
"I suppose it could be that," Yuuta said doubtfully. It didn't look like something that Shusuke would read. Historical romance was… well, it was just that when he saw Shusuke reading, it tended to be large, obscure, and Russian. This book must have been summer reading for school.
"Here," the man said, reaching up to pluck a book from the top shelf. "R.C. Milan, copyright 1986. Is this what you're looking for?"
The cover had a rather badly drawn tree on the front. Yuuta glanced at the smudged writing again. Try as he might, he couldn't find any better discernation of the words.
"I think so. Thank you."
"An interesting book," the old man said. He peered at the boy over the top of his half-moon glasses. The creases around his eyes became more pronounced, as if he found something amusing.
"Is this for a gift?" the storekeeper asked.
"No," Yuuta said shortly. "My brother asked me to buy it." The storekeeper's lips drew tight in a smile.
"Ah…" He looked for a moment as though he was going to say something more, but he was looking over Yuuta's shoulder. Inui had stepped up to the counter. "It appears your friend is ready to check out."
Yuuta was about to interrupt and say that Inui was not his friend, but the storekeeper had already moved behind the counter. Besides, it didn't seem worth it to debate the matter with a stranger.
He stood in line behind Inui, who had found a glossy black bound notebook to replace his old one. After they made their purchases, Yuuta stood next to Inui in the doorway, peering at the water dripping off the roof.
"The rain has stopped," Inui observed. "The train stop is over there."
"I know," Yuuta said. He sounded a little impatient to his own ears. Indeed, the darkening sky had cleared, showing the first stars in the dim light. He felt like he was forgetting something. Inui didn't move, standing with his hands in his pockets and watching the water drip in patterns from the roof edge, as if he was waiting for something.
"Will you practice with me?" Yuuta blurted out.
Inui didn't look at him. "Why?"
"Long range," Yuuta said. He'd been thinking about this on the train ride home the day before. "My swing is strong, but against players with a longer range, it comes up short. It's a weakness."
Inui inclined his head. "I thought you would see it. Your playing style is quite different from my teammates. Quite different, I would say, from your brother's." Inui paused. When Yuuta failed to respond, he continued. "We would be a good match. You have less range and accuracy, but your reflexes are excellent, and you play a very aggressive game."
Inui stepped out from the alcove and into the street.
"Wait," Yuuta called after him. Inui paused and glanced back at him from the other side of the street. "So-"
"I assume you'll be at the park tomorrow, same time?" Inui asked. He sounded slightly surprised, as if considering, for the first time, that Yuuta might have other plans.
"Right," Yuuta said.
"Tomorrow, then," and Inui walked off the way they had come.
All the way to the train stop, Yuuta wondered what he had been thinking. He usually practiced with Mizuki, who was away with his family for the summer holiday. Still, Mizuki was not as dedicated as he was. Inui, on the other hand, seemed consumed with tennis, and might make for an interesting opponent.
Would it be so wrong to practice with someone from another team? His only real concern was that his teammates might be upset, but Inui didn't seem the type to gossip. Yuuta was a loner, and he usually preferred to practice on his own, but he knew that the backboard could only be a suitable opponent for so long before his skills began to rust.
Distracted as he was, Yuuta nearly missed his stop. Hurriedly, before the doors closed, Yuuta gathered up his tennis bag and the book bag from the store, and darted into the crowded transit center.
When he got home, he snuck past the living room, where his sister would undoubtedly scold him for forgetting an umbrella, and up the stairs. When he reached for the bathroom door handle, he found himself face to face with his brother, who was toweling his pale hair dry. Shusuke looked momentarily surprised.
"Yuuta... you're soaked." Shusuke handed him a dry towel. "Hurry and dry off or you'll catch a cold."
"I'm fine," Yuta said shortly. "And I'm not a child. Are you done in here?"
"Yes, I…" Shusuke paused as he stepped past his brother, glancing curiously at him. "Are you sure you're all right, Yuuta?" Blue eyes stared knowingly into his. Yuuta felt suddenly nervous. Shusuke had an uncanny ability to detect when Yuuta was hiding something. Whether agreeing to practice with Inui was the right thing to do or not, it wasn't something he wanted to discuss with Shusuke. The two were, he recalled for the first time, good friends.
He brushed it off, lowering his eyes and pushing past Shusuke. "I'll be fine once I change clothes. So, would you mind…?"
The door closed. Yuuta clenched his jaw. Was nothing safe from his brother? It was simply annoying. He felt this need to butt into every aspect of his younger brother's life. He realized he'd forgotten to tell Shusuke that he'd bought his book. He turned on the shower. It would wait until tomorrow.