Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Konomi Takeshi does. I'm merely playing with them for the moment.
A/N: In one of my games, Atobe has just given up his captaincy. Because of that, I wanted to show just what has made Atobe a captain for three years. Eight drabbles, each exactly 150 words.
Captain King
Ootori was convinced he would never forget the first time he saw Atobe.
It had been an exciting day on all counts – the first day of their last year of primary school. However, all that excitement had been forgotten as they'd followed the people running by. It had quite displeased his mother, coming home so late, but he hadn't really cared. There had been something much more important.
They had watched until the end of the match against the setting sun. Ootori had never thought of himself as athletic, yet he'd found his heart beating wildly. This was it, his body had been telling him, or so he certainly imagined. This was the road for him to follow – the man for him to follow. There was no way he could have ignored this sudden calling, this thrill.
Seeing the piercing blue eyes, he'd had no choice but to follow them.
*
It was hardly a surprise to anyone that Jirou was easily excitable. He pretty much lived between the extremes, going from a sleepy daze and outright naps to bouncing delight in a matter of seconds. Most people found it strange at first, but eventually got used to it. His friends teased him about it, calling him the Sleeping Beauty and other such things, while everyone else just gave him weird looks. Knowing about his peculiarity, they also paid all the more attention to anything that got him truly excited.
Very few things thrilled him as much as watching Atobe play tennis.
Had he been asked to, Jirou could not have put that feeling into words. He simply felt a strange thrill at seeing the fancy moves, the irresistible overconfidence, the casual snap of fingers that bent everyone around to his beck and call.
He could never sleep while Atobe played.
*
Oshitari took a certain pride in always being able to keep his calm. There was nothing that gave him quite as much satisfaction as watching people trying to figure out what went on behind his calm smile and fake glasses. He would smile and frown and perhaps even snap at someone, but ultimately, he stayed cool as a cucumber. His true feelings were very carefully hidden inside.
When he was first faced with Atobe, the arrogant little brat, he'd considered it hate at first sight. This rich kid was very clearly his opposite, loud, rash, and greedy for attention. Everything Atobe did was specifically calculated to gain as much attention as possible. It irritated Oshitari immensely.
Then he realized Atobe's tennis, flashy and loud though it was, was merely a self-imposed cover to a style much more aggressive and explosive.
Much though he hated it, he had to be impressed.
*
The first day Gakuto ever knew Atobe, he came to the conclusion that the new captain was narcissistic, bratty, and liable to try to buy friends for himself. That and unforgivably good at tennis, too.
The following days, weeks, and months didn't disprove any of these conclusions, save one. Slowly, he came to realize that Atobe simply did not actually expect anything in return when he used his allowance on others. It was just a natural action.
When a teary Jirou told he'd misplaced the gift he'd gotten for his mother's birthday, Atobe merely glanced at his wallet before giving him the money for another one. Gakuto didn't think much of it, until at lunchtime, Atobe chose not to have his usual sweet dessert. As Gakuto caught him glancing longingly at the cafeteria's special cake, he realized there hadn't been much money left.
Just this once, he bought Atobe something.
*
Of course, Taki had known. The rule of Hyoutei was a harsh one, and the coach would not budge easily. Any defeat to someone who was not another regular meant being immediately dropped from the regulars, even if the one winning was an ex-regular, himself.
He wasn't even sure what stung worse, Shishido making him fall from the regulars or stealing away his doubles partner. Whichever was the answer, he knew he could only look forward to an incredibly lonely time.
The following morning, he was slow in gathering his things from the regulars' locker room. He just hoped to get it done before any others showed up.
Atobe marched in, unusually early. "Taki, stop playing around," he snapped. "Get changed and out there." Grabbing his jacket, Atobe stuffed it right back into the locker as he passed by.
It wasn't until then that Taki realized there were now nine.
*
Shishido did not know what to do.
He had done everything he could. He had trained until he bled, spent his every waking moment preparing himself, he had gone and defeated a Hyoutei regular and thus forced them to step down. He had cut his hair, had knelt down before the coach. There was nothing more he could sacrifice, in his body or his pride. And it just wasn't enough.
He wasn't sure if he'd heard right, at first. Surely it couldn't be those words, certainly not in that voice. Surely he was mistaken.
Atobe spoke, and the coach relented. He just always had to get his way, the damn diva.
Atobe said something else to him, too, after the coach departed, told him there would not be another time. This was the only chance he got. Shishido didn't care.
He would repay Atobe by not needing a second chance.
*
Kabaji was well aware of all the things said behind his back. Contrary to the popular belief, he could indeed hear and understand things said by people other than Atobe, and regardless of the image his speechless figure gave to others, he really was quite smart underneath his solemn frown. He knew that most people saw him as a servant of sorts, a stupid child who'd been lured into the trap of a narcissistic, self-centred boy who enjoyed making him run about on errands.
Kabaji did not see it. As he looked at Atobe he did not find the selfish diva everyone else seemed to see. His eyes only saw the little boy of four who'd walked between him and the bullies and told them to stop making the kid cry.
Even back then, Atobe had been smaller than Kabaji, a frail little child. But he had seemed awfully big.
*
Hiyoshi hated Atobe.
It wasn't because Atobe was annoying, or self-centred, or an attention-starved diva. Those were all flaws nobody who knew Atobe could deny him possessing, but to Hiyoshi, they were all secondary matters. No, the reason he hated Atobe was very simple: For all his efforts, he could not surpass Atobe.
He tried his best, of course. He trained whenever he got the chance, both tennis and his martial arts. However, no matter how hard he worked, there was a gap between them that he simply couldn't reach over. It frustrated him endlessly. He was supposed to beat Atobe and take his place, not stand in his shadow forever!
And then one day, it was all just suddenly… over. He did get his last match, but not his victory, merely humiliation again.
"Find your own cheer."
Hiyoshi only barely stopped himself from saying, "Yes, buchou."
He felt empty.