Facility.
By Brokenflavors.
A Tennis no Oujisama fic.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, quotes, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Twisted Canon teams (Seigaku and Rikkaidai) in order to fit my AU.
Characters/Pairings: Seigaku, Rikkaidai, Hyoutei, ect. Tennis clubs. Tezuka Kunimitsu and Fuji Syusuke-centric / None so far.
Summary: "If you and I had entered different schools, what would have happened?" A look into the world of Prince of Tennis if Fuji Syusuke had not been a member of the Seigaku Tennis team.
Additional Notes: This is the prologue to an Alternate Universe multi-chaptered piece I'm working on called Facility that focuses Fuji and Tezuka if they had been rivals from differing schools from the start of the TeniPuri series. This installment differs only because it comes primarily from Fuji Yuuta's perspective, rather than that of Tezuka and Syusuke, like the rest of the story will. I hope you will enjoy it, nonetheless. ;]
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Facility
I. Prelude – Rivalry of Aim
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"Men are ennobled by morals and by intellect; but those two elements know each other and always beckon to each other, until at last they meet in the man, if he is to be truly great."
-Greatness, Ralph Waldo Emerson
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This story is about a match.
A single game between two naive preteens unyieldingly confident in their own talents; tennis prodigies previously untested, pushed to their very limits. The game shouldn't have been anything special—it didn't begin as anything more than a cocky wager between two rookies from rivaling schools. It was an unofficial match that would amount to absolutely nothing in the long run but meant absolutely everything at that moment. But minutes stretched into hours in a symphony of measured swings. Cascades of sweat bled into the background by a crescendo of grunts and taunts. Soaked polo's that clung to lithe bodies as they leapt into their hits, throwing their entire bodies into their swings: ability fading into instinct as time simply soldiered on.
There can only be one winner of a match. But for this game, a battle of skill turned so important through boyish ego—there was none. There was only a world painted red and instinct set aflame.
Where a game wasn't finished…
…a rivalry was born.
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Friendship needs a certain parallelism of life, a community of thought, a rivalry of aim.
-Henry Brooks Adams
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To one Fuji Yuuta, tennis was his life. He woke up every morning to the National Sports Station's dulcet tones on his radio, recounting the previous day's results with an undercurrent of hype to welcome in the new day. The brunette would proceed to eat a quick breakfast while walking to his school, studiously making sure to wipe every last bread crumb from his fingertips when he picked up the latest Tennis Pro Monthly or Sports News Daily from the market's newsstand a block down from his house (the exact opposite direction from his school, but he didn't mind). He practiced the sport for hours during both morning and evening and let it run rampant in his thoughts during the trifling hours of time he had to spend in class or sleeping. Tennis was the axis of his existence.
And yet the sport caused him nothing but strife.
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"Oi, Yuuta! Your brother is watching us—" Momoshiro Takeshi's attempted whisper echoed dryly over the court as loud squawking interrupted him from the D courts. All eyes followed the frantic movements of a green-shirted first year as he made large, flailing hand motions at a honey-haired bystander observing the afternoon Seigaku Tennis Club practice from the outermost edge of the A courts.
Really, the kid could have tried to be a bit more subtle.
"Look at the yellow jersey! That guy's one of the Rikkaidai regulars!"
"Rikkaidai?"
"You haven't heard of Rikkai Dai Fuzoku? Baka. Let Horio-sama with his two years tennis experience enlighten you~"
"Kachiro, Rikkaidai's tennis club has been the winner at Nationals for the past two years."
"Waah! Katsuo! I was going to explain that—"
"You take too long Horio-kun."
"Made made dane."
Yuuta scowled as all of the first and second years of courts B through D turned curiously towards the rival player; the entire practice halted by a myriad of confused murmurs. "This year's freshmen are too loud," he mumbled wryly as Momo rested a reassuring hand on his slight shoulder, forgetting his racket on the ground (and their doubles practice, for that matter) in favor of watching his friend's sibling curiously. "It's not like we don't get visitors regularly." The taller doubles partner laughed, unconsciously squeezing his grip on the slightly younger boy in his mirth.
"Now, now Yuuta; don't be jealous of Fuji-san," he tisked halfheartedly. "After all, it's now our turn to go win Nationals! Next year, it'll be us that the first years get all excited about!" The brunette just brushed off the other boy's hand with a deeper frown as he rubbed his now bruised shoulder.
"Yeah, I guess… baka-shiro"
"Brat!"
"Yuuta."
Both boys froze at the undeniably familiar sharp tone. The undeniably familiar sharp tone that just so happened to belong to their stick-up-the- ass brick of a Buchou. Momoshiro rubbed his head sheepishly as he attempted to shuffle away, only to be prevented by a tight grip on his own shoulder. There was no way the younger Fuji would let the other boy abandon him to deal with their irate captain alone.
"Yes, Tezuka-buchou?"
The downward twist to the lips of his usual stoic face was warning enough. "Please inform your brother to return after our practice is over. His presence is too distracting for the other members'."
"Ah, hah." Yuuta shifted his grey eyes briefly from the chain-link fence back to his captain. "Um, no offense Tezuka-buchou, but, uh... well—"Yuuta tightened his grip on Momo's shoulder at his double's partner's failed attempts at stifling his laughter behind his fist.
"Ah?"
Aw, to hell with it. He decided to just be blunt.
"You see, I have to go home with Syusuke tonight. So there's no way in hell I'm going to do anything that might incite his wrath. Sorry Buchou, but I'd rather piss you off than ignite Aniki's inner-sadist. It's nothing personal."
The taller teen watched the two for a few moments with a slight narrowing of his eyes behind his glasses before turning his gaze once more to the older Fuji brother waiting at the fence.
"Yuuta, Momo, thirty laps."
"S-sure."
"WHAT? What did I do Tezuka-buchou?"
He just gave the second year a withering look before turning his back to the pair, obviously heading towards the subject of all of their current troubles.
"Just shut up Momo and take it like a man!" Yuuta hissed under his breath as he pulled the spiky-haired boy towards the outer courts while Momoshiro hit his hand away furiously.
"Damn you, Yuuta! That actually hurt. Who knew a wimp could have such a strong grip?"
"That was payback for earlier Momo-chan. Now let's get running before Syusuke pisses Buchou off even more. I'd rather be exhausted but safe in the club room by that point…"
For once the loudmouth chose not to respond, for he couldn't possibly agree more with that logic.
-x-
"Because it's ugly Aniki. I mean, honestly, of all the schools you could possibly have chosen, you went with the school whose tennis club has putrid yellow uniforms."
Yuuta had been right—of course—in saying that Tezuka-buchou would be more incensed than usual after dealing with his errant brother. Practice had been cut a suspicious twenty minutes short followed by the subsequent everyone-for-themselves scurry to rid themselves of the locker room in order to be out of the range of Buchou's wrath.
"Beauty is seen differently in each person's eyes Yuuta. I happen to like the color—"
It wasn't that Tezuka and Syusuke actually angered each other… really... it was just, Tezuka played strictly by the rules. Syusuke didn't.
"—because red, white, yellow, and black go together so perfectly."
And Aniki knew exactly how to push the right buttons.
"I never knew you were so interested in fashion Yuuta-kun. Is that something that Seigaku values?" Yuuta's face flushed pink as he pushed his older brother halfheartedly from his perch atop the gutter as he hurried down the street towards his home. Syusuke recovered gracefully—barely stumbling two steps towards the street—following his brother with a tinkling laugh, lengthy golden-brown hair flowing airily behind him. He caught up with Yuuta quickly, slinging a pale bare arm over his younger brother's shoulder's, despite the lack of height difference, drawing him closer.
"Oh no, don't start on your Rikkai-superiority-complex," Yuuta started, batting away a hand straying towards his shorn brunette hair. "I hear enough of that from your Senpai; I don't need you to bring that home either." His brother didn't deem it necessary to reply, instead giving a tilting smile through his lidded eyes as he hummed softly in near-silent laughter. Yuuta scowled in annoyance. "Kami, you Rikkai players need some tact. You're all too cocky."
"Pot calling the kettle black, Yuuta-kun? Who exactly was it claiming pre-mature victory over who's Aniki-sama at the U14 competition last weekend?"
Syusuke laughed freely at the indignant huff from his younger brother, blue eyes flashing briefly with the soft, warm wind. "That's exactly what I mean. When in the world have I ever called you 'Aniki-sama' you conceited—"
"Don't insult your Aniki, Yuuta! It isn't very kind." The younger boy rubbed his scarred forehead in feigned annoyance as he led his brother across the darkening street, towards a small nondescript wooden building similar to the others lining the street. The only true difference would be the wisterias lining the pathway towards the entrance way, causing the older of the two to smile wanly.
"Welcome home Syusuke," Yuuta called softly as he kicked his sneakers off at the door, opening the wooden slab further so that his brother could slide past his through the narrow entrance, slipping his own shoes silently next to where the other boy had thrown down a bulking messenger bag.
"Don't sound so morose Otou. It's not as if I don't come home that often—"
"No, but you stay away often enough." A voice soft and pealing enough to rival Syusuke's own sounded down the hallway.
"Yumiko-chan! You're here too!" Syusuke's lips turned upwards as his head dipped forwards greeting as his sister rested against the doorway, watching her two younger siblings. She was still dressed in a navy blazer paired with dress pants and heeled shoes, obviously just returned from work, a small frown on her delicate face framed by the same honey colored tresses shared with her brother.
"Yes... I read it in The Cards." Syusuke raised a skeptical brow, intrigued.
"Oh… really? Your cards could pick up something this insignificant?"
"I wouldn't call you coming home insignificant, but actually, no," she smirked. "Yuuta phoned me - told me you were finally getting off your high horse." His lips quirked playfully at the jest.
Yumiko waved a strict finger at her younger brother. "Your hair's grown much longer Syusuke—you really should watch that better; you'd look less of a ruffian." Syusuke's smile only lifted further as Yuuta watched from the background, grey eyes tracing the interaction carefully. It wasn't very often that his family got together, and even this night it wasn't a full get-together. Their parents would be curiously absent due to a dinner party that had 'inconveniently' popped up.
He smirked as Yumiko pushed from her place at the wall, stalking over to her slightly younger brother with a warm look in her brown eyes as she bantered with him, reached up to tug sharply at his collar-length honey-hued hair when he made a smart reply, causing the youngest Fuji to snicker loudly. Syusuke shot him a frown as he defended his precious hair from Yumiko, deciding not to scold his Otou in favor of stalling his sister who was searching the room for a pair of scissors.
"No, really Yumi-chan, its fine as it is! Don't you think it looks better anyways? I thought I looked more handsome."
The shear-rampant sister stopped her search momentarily to look at the teen once more, cocking her head to the side to study the boy before returning to her current bookshelf to begin her search anew.
"Oi, Yuuta-kun! You're shorter than me, could you be a hun, and check the lower drawers for some scissors, a knife, anything sharp would work."
"Yuuta-kun, you wouldn't do such a cruel thing to your Aniki, now would you?"
"Syusuke, don't manipulate your brother so blatantly! I would think you would use some tact"
"Yumiko~ I would hardly count this reign of terror on my hair as tactful—"
*DING*
"DIN~NER" Yumiko sang cheerily, rushing out of the room laughing; her heels kicked off sometime during the search. Syusuke couldn't help but chuckle also, grabbing an indecisive half-crouching Yuuta from his awkward position and pulling him from the room. They moved down the narrow hallway into a slightly larger room host to a square wooden table, yellow and white linoleum diner tile, and dark oak cabinets. Yumiko was already there, placing three plates on the small table, along with dented silverware and a pile of picnic brand napkins.
"Mother and Father aren't coming?"
"Um, Nah. Mom and dad are at a business party. You know, 'making contracts and good impressions,'" Yuuta replied awkwardly, ignoring the shadow darkening his brother's face, instead focusing on his sister setting the dinner table. Her eyes flickered briefly to meet his, dark, cold, causing him to flinch unthinkingly. He knew it wasn't him the bleakness of the gaze was directed at but…
"Saa~ it's so cold all of the sudden. How about we eat? Hmm? It smells so good Yumiko-chan!" Syusuke smirked, sliding into a seat as Yumiko moved further into the room, away from the table as Yuuta followed suit.
"It's Western-style casserole. Hamburger helper. A friend from work has been positively gushing about her American fiancé and all of his exotic food choices. I thought I'd pass the knowledge onto you two." Otou's lips lifted slightly, his blue eyes showing softly as he followed Yumiko's movements around the kitchen as she lifted a casserole pan from the oven. She bit her oven mitt, ripping it from her hand with her teeth while jerking her hand towards a drawer with the same movement. There she pulled out a spatula and stopped, a wicked smile on her face, looking absolutely ridiculous with the mitt still in her mouth, her hand dipping back in to pull out a butcher's knife to wave in the air.
"Oooh Syuuuuuusuuuukeeeee-kuuuuuuun~ I think it's time for a haircut!"
And suddenly, the tension that had been lying in the background suddenly fled the scene with an undignified snort from Yuuta as Syusuke's eyes popped wide open in shock at the scene; the cerulean finally clear to see to his two siblings for the first time in months. Laughter rang loudly, dinner momentarily forgotten, as Yumiko was scolded— "Really, waving a knife in the air? What kind of adult are you?"—Syusuke fought for his hair's rights—"It's really not that long! Tell her Yuuta, it doesn't hinder my tennis against you at all~ "—and Yuuta tried not to be overly offended by his two overly offensive siblings—"Honestly, do all you two do when I'm not around is plot on how to torture and ridicule me? 'Cause it's all that you two do. Seriously."—The night lasted for hours as the banter dwindled into more a more personal discussion that's accustomed to siblings making up for lost time.
But all nights have to end and the Rikkaidai dorms does have a curfew, as Syusuke had to remind Yuuta as his Otou followed him out of the doorway at the night's end.
Syusuke's dinners at home almost always ended the exact same way.
"You don't have to stay in a dorm, you know. You don't even have to stay at a different school—"Syusuke sighed, leaning against the doorway, already halfway out the door. He didn't even let his younger brother finish; this conversation was practically rehearsed.
"We've discussed this many times before. Besides, Seigaku is good for you. It'll help your tennis thrive—"Yuuta paid in kind.
"—but I still don't see why you decided to move out. If Seigaku is so great, how come you never even gave it a chance?"
"I thought it was rather obvious. Rikkaidai did win Nationals last year, you know."
"I get it Syusuke. Rikkaidai is amazing, but that still doesn't answer the question."
"What question Yuuta-kun?"
"Aniki!"
"Saa~"
Syusuke opened his eyes once more, locking his blue with the naive grey. He pulled his younger brother into a loose hug, a tight smile on his face. "Just don't worry about it Yuuta, okay? Just know that Yumiko and I love you, and so do mom and dad. That's all that matters." Then he let go, his eyes closed, lips tilted into the safe smile so easily associated with Fuji Syusuke.
"Later Yuuta-kun!" With a wave, he was once again out the door and on the porch. But Yuuta wouldn't—couldn't for some unfathomable reason—let his Aniki get the last word in this one night.
Tonight had to be different: it had to be set apart.
"Oi, Syusuke? " He called down, causing his older brother to pause, turning his head partway over his shoulder in silent question.
"There's a freshman this year that's really talented. I hear Tezuka-buchou is going to allow him into the ranking tournament this month." Yuuta couldn't prevent the satisfied smirk the crossed his face as his brother froze stiffly at the mention of his captain. Cold blue eyes were suddenly revealed as he turned his face to meet the younger brother's own grey eyes one final time.
"Is that so?" he asked with one final laugh. "You should be careful who you share your club secrets with. I am your rival after all."
"Pft. G'night Aniki," He snorted before shutting the door in his brother's face. Yuuta rubbed his eyes softly as Yumiko watched him warily from the hallway, a silent barrier once again between them.
Yeah. Tennis brought this family nothing but grief.
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-to be continued-
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Parting Notes:
*I'm going to try and keep the Japanese vernacular to the minimum, but sometimes it's hard to keep terms out of the writing.
**I'm assuming that we all know what the characters look like, so I'm not going to go through a whole—this is the entire structure of so&so character. Because TeniPuri has a lot of characters, and that gets a bit redundant. Sorry!
***Because what is Prince of Tennis without Fuji family angst? ;] Nothing bad; all will be explained in due time, I promise~! And I know, not too much Tezuka in a supposedly Tezuka-centric fic, but the next chapter will more than make up for it. Hopefully the characterization is good, but these boys are hard to write! But fun. Undeniably fun! ;] Until next time.