But Fuji Shuusuke didn't care about the game. Instead, his eyes, open and narrowed to slits, stared across the court, to where his little brother seemed deep in conversation with his team's manager. Shuusuke's eyes narrowed even further as he watched Mizuki's lips form the words "Yuuta-kun," watched him place a tender hand on his darling little brother's shoulder— the shoulder he would break with his callousness.
Shuusuke felt his loathing would erupt from him at any moment, but for the judge's shout:
"Game! St. Rudolph! Seven games to three! St. Rudolph wins!"
Mizuki turned mercifully away from Yuuta to face the two players now coming off the court, allowing Shuusuke's rage to abate— a little. However, it seemed as though he wasn't the only one with an intense dislike for the manager of St. Rudolph's Tennis Club. Next to him, he heard a low, guttural growl, as Mizuki greeted his two winning players with a sly smirk. Shuusuke looked over to see a boy with long, dark hair and a cap, wearing the scarlet uniform of Rokakku Chuu. His eternal smile returned to his face.
"Saa, that must be your twin brother, ne?"
"How could you tell?" the other boy replied sarcastically. He didn't seem to be in the mood for idle banter, but that was just as well, because any conversation with Fuji Shuusuke was far from idle.
"You must be Kisarazu Ryou-kun. I've heard many good things about you."
This made the other boy look up. "And you must be the tensai, Fuji Shuusuke. For you to say you've heard great things about me is a compliment indeed." Ryou replied, his face reddening. He couldn't understand why he was blushing; perhaps it had something to do with the tensai's eyes— open again— and what a peculiar shade of blue they were.
"Saa, I said good, not great." Shuusuke's eyes and lips curved back into a grin. He turned his gaze back to the other side of the tennis courts once more. "You miss you brother, don't you," he asked, his voice betraying none of the spectacular empathy he felt.
Ryou's nod was slight, but, even closed, Shuusuke's eyes didn't miss a thing. "Mizuki recruited him— mistaking him for me, even— and just like that, he was gone." The dark-haired boy's voice shook slightly in anger. Shuusuke's eyes glinted open again, sharp and narrow.
"That bastard."
Across the court, the St. Rudolph players seemed to be leaving. Walking side by side, Atsushi attempted to hold back a smile against the laughing antics of his gawky doubles partner.
In front of them, Mizuki's hand, seemingly of its own accord, was inching its way ever closer to Yuuta's ass.
The two observers turned to face each other simultaneously. Their eyes locked.
Perhaps Ryou should have been more surprised than he was as he felt the other boy's hand graze his cheek, or his lips graze his own. But somehow, it simply felt... right. And suddenly, he missed his brother a bit less.