"Managerial Mayhem"
SUMMARY: Wanted! A manageress for Hyoutei's Tennis Club. Applicant? Ito Himawari, an ambitious girl who wants to be anything but normal. What to expect: Headaches, sore legs, angry fangirls, flying tennis balls, and maybe even… love?
DISCLAIMER: The Prince of Tennis was created by Konomi Takeshi. As usual, the characters in the franchise do not belong to me and belong to their respective owner(s). Aside from the characters I create, I do not mean to infringe on any current copyrights on the series. Thank you and have fun reading!
The Hyoutei Tennis Club is looking for a student who would be willing to provide some time to focus on tennis management!
The team, with more than two hundred members, is inviting anyone interested to apply for the job as the club's manager. Preferably, the Tennis Club is looking for someone competent enough to meet the qualifications and responsibilities associated in being the team's manager. Some of the tasks that the future manager would perform include, but are not limited to, duties and participation in all aspects of tennis management, written reports about the members' progress and food and beverage management.
Application of résumés would start on Monday. Those excellent few who would meet the criteria would participate in an interview the next day. For more information regarding the applications, please feel free to look for Oshitari Yuushi of Class 3-B or call 090xxxxxxx
We are looking forward to recruiting a bright student who would take the open position!
- The Hyoutei Times, Volume 19, Issue 2, page 4
CHAPTER ONE: The Once and Future Manager
"Nice advertising," a certain Kansai tensai remarked as he pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. "But I do not see the need for my name and cellphone number to be blatantly written."
"Ah, I'm so sorry Oshitari-san!" Ohtori Choutarou bowed his head as he continued his strings of apologies. "I did not mean to type that, but Shishido-san insisted that it'll be better if I gave out a name just in case someone wanted to ask some questions or clear out confusions."
"Is that true?" With a slightly lopsided smile, Oshitari Yuushi turned to the man standing beside Choutarou.
The man in question, Shishido Ryou, shrugged in response and threw a newspaper down the floor. "I thought it was a cool idea. I mean, putting the buchou's name would have more of an impact, but you know what those rabid fangirls would do if they got a hold of his number."
"A difficult point to refute!" laughed Gakuto Mukahi, the tennis team's famed acrobatic tennis player.
"Still," Oshitari fought the urge to rub his temples. "To wake up with more than a hundred messages in your inbox is not a welcoming way to start the day."
"Ah, I should've put Akutagawa-san's name instead!" Choutarou exclaimed. The other boys gave him an amused look as they all proceeded to simultaneously chuckle at Choutarou's sudden remark. "What's so funny?" The oblivious kouhai asked, frowning.
"Nothing," Shishido leaned towards Chotaro with a devilish smile. "It's just one of the craziest ideas you've ever had."
"Senpai-tachi…" Choutaro sighed. With a furtive glance, he turned to Wakashi Hiyoshi for support, but the reticent second year didn't even spare him a glance. As it turned out, Hiyoshi was busy in adjusting the grip tape on his racket with a look of intense concentration.
As for Jirou… Well, as usual, he was innocently frolicking off to dreamland. The Sleeping Beauty of Hyoutei managed a snore before shifting to a more comfortable position on the nearby bench.
"Still, I cannot believe buchou actually agreed to this!" Gakuto commented out of the blue as he placed both of his hands at the back of his head. "I mean, he's the type of person who wants to always be in charge of everything, ya know? He's like a perfectionist that way, always trying to organize things by himself."
Atobe's obsessive-compulsive tendencies were a running joke for the team; they came to the universal agreement that Atobe was most likely anal-retentive even when he was just a wee toddler.
"I know where you are getting at," Oshitari said with a sniff. "But Atobe is only human. And although I think it would be very like him to relish on becoming more personally involved in all of his comings and goings, I do not think that even he can handle the pressure our Senior Year entails."
They all remained silent.
Atobe Keigo had already shown his outstanding leadership skills even before they reached the Upper Division. Despite his egotistical personality, he trained constantly and took immense pride in his capabilities. He's definitely charismatic and task-oriented and that only served to make the members of the team admire him even more. Furthermore, his proclamations of his -and his team's- greatness served as a fuel to the members' fighting spirit.
Still, as capable as Atobe might be, he was certainly not a robot. Ever since he took over both the positions of Student Council president and Tennis Club captain, he'd been so stressed out and high strung, giving his all to put things in order that the effects of trying so hard were starting to show. Atobe's presence in student council meetings were also mandatory and soon it became a frequent sight to see Oshitari head the club's operations everytime their captain's unavailable. It wasn't anything like Junior High.
The members were all worried about their beloved buchou, of course. They knew how hard he pushed himself beyond his limits despite his trying his best not to show his weariness.
"What are you all standing there for?"
That arrogant voice could only belong to the pompous, god-like figure of Hyotei. From behind him, Kabaji Munehiro stood, an ever-present shadow of the king. Speak of the devil.
"Buchou!" The regulars chorused, spinning around to meet their captain.
"Aan? What are all those looks for?" Atobe inquired, his eyebrows raised up.
You've got to hand it to Atobe. Even if he was the one late for their tennis practice because of his other school commitments, he still managed to look like he just came out from a refreshing dip in the pool. It might seem, to those who do not know Atobe truly well, that endless meetings and practices could do nothing to faze him. He was truly in a class of his own.
"Nothing, nothing!" Shishido quickly came to an answer. "We were just discussing about team strategies and… Er. Yeah."
"Well, team strategies or not," Atobe said with that certain air of authority in his voice. "It'll be best if you wake up Jirou and complete one hundred laps around the court now."
"Hey, we-"
"Are you questioning Ore-sama, Gakuto?" Atobe asked, looking severely displeased. Everyone fell silent immediately, expressions quelled as they stared into his disapproving eyes. If the slaves (or so they unofficially call themselves) could freely voice out their opinions- and damn the consequences!- they would probably say that it must be King Atobe's time of the month.
It's a man-struation. Such a frightening thought!
For the offender, Gakuto, well of course he knew better than to justify the buchou's question with an answer. He eventually gave a solemn bow and muttered his apologies.
"Very good. Now, although it pains Ore-sama to say it, Ore-sama is needed elsewhere and would have to depart early today," the Hyoutei King announced majestically. He then suppressed a sigh. All of the team members suddenly thought to themselves how they never saw Atobe look that tired, well at least tired enough for the dark circles under his eyes to be taken as proof of the stress he was under. And wait, did he forget to shave? Again?
Forget the refreshing dip in the pool part! Upon closer inpsection, Atobe was actually in an alarming state of mess!
This overwhelming feeling of wanting to do something to lighten Atobe's burden was killing them! They needed a manager. Pronto!
Atobe Keigo, unaware of his team's silent vow to do him some good, waved a hand. "Oshitari, please take over from here. Ore-sama needs to arrange all the papers needed for the calculation of expenses for the new tennis equipments. Watch out for the other members too. Ore-sama observed how they were slacking off lately. Naa, Kabaji?"
"Usu."
With a satisfied smirk, he snapped a finger and turned around towards the direction of the Student Council office. The Regulars watched his retreating back and then craned their necks to the only bespectacled man in the group with a look of anticipation.
"What?" Oshitari returned their gazes with an annoyed glare.
Gakuto made his best imitation of a puppy dog pout. "Care to make those laps twenty?"
Oshitari only rolled his eyes.
"Ne, ne! Have you heard?"
"Ah, Yuki-san, I know what all the fuss is about!"
"What? What are you guys talking about?"
"An open position!"
"Eh?"
"The Tennis Team is looking for –wait for it- a manager!"
"MAJIDE?"
"KYAAAA!"
Ito Himawari secretly gave a sharp exhale. Yuki's floral scented perfume made her a bit nauseated as she regarded the humongous tarpaulin that managed to occupy the entirety of Hyoutei's 30″ x 88″ bulletin board on the entrance of the West Hallway with slight disdain. She didn't really care about the position of the manager of the Hyoutei Tennis Club at all. But why was she here now, faking a smile and squealing like another mindless fangirl?
Sometimes, pretending could be pretty tiring.
"Himawari-chan?"
Himawari tilted her head, her long and slightly wavy raven hair following her movement. "Yes, Yuki-san?"
"Would you like to join us in applying for the job?" Yuki asked excitedly, a certain glint in her eyes.
"Of course Yuki-san! I've been thinking of the same thing!" Himawari replied with a radiant smile. Opportunities like this are hard to come by; this could be a good chance to be associated with those popular tennis club freaks anyway.
"Ah, thank you so much Himawari-chan!" Yuki clapped her hands happily. "Isn't Himawari-chan the greatest?" She turned to another classmate who was still busy staring at the bulletin board in utter fascination.
"Huh?" With a jolt, the other girl turned to her female companions. Hana gave a sheepish smile and then scratched her head. Luckily, she heard bits of their conversation from a while ago. "Yes, yes. Himawari-chan is a great sport. Really nice. Always smiling!"
"Ano… I'm not as good as you think I am guys…" Himawari then trailed off with an embarrassed smile. Keep on smiling! Himawari inwardly reminded herself when her two friends exchanged curious looks. Paste that smile on your face as if there would be no quiz in Greek today!
"Oh gosh, how can I forget?" Yuki exclaimed as if she had telepathy. "We have a vocabulary test in Greek today! I never studied for it. Oh dear…"
"Do not worry, Yuki-san!" Himawari chirped brightly as she patted Yuki's shoulder comfortingly. "I also did not study for Greek. You have an ally in battle, my dear friend!" Yeah right, I studied my brains out for that quiz last night while downing more than five cups of coffee!Himawari thought with a snort.
If it weren't for her father who only wanted the best for her, she wouldn't have entered Hyoutei Gakuen's Upper Division. The peak of pressure for a regular student in the Japanese school system was already bad enough as was, so what more if you were attending an internationally recognized escalator school like Hyoutei Gakuen? Prestige was practically Hyoutei's blood. Her school, Himawari thought with a wry smile, prioritized more on ability rather than emotion. For her to keep up, she had to shine on academics.
The girl shuddered.
Himawari never liked academics. She never liked English. She never liked Mathematics. She never liked Philosophy. Calligraphy, by far, had been the most attention-grabbing subject (if you can call it that) for her. The precise twisting of a calligraphy brush and the concentration it required somehow managed to convince Himawari that it wasn't a complete waste of one's time, but it could only do so much as to pique her interest.
Truthfully, she was just a normal student. However, her classmates seemed to think that she was the scholarly kind of girl, deeply rooted in intellectual pursuits. Her teacher in Trigonometry never failed to look proud whenever she would get past ninety percent. Now, take note, anything above seventy percent was already considered a feat for most of the students. They must've developed this reasoning because it was said that their teacher's quizzes were said to be so frightening, they equaled a regular test given in an Ivy League college.
Was there a secret to Himawari's success? Sure. She just devotes every waking moment of her life to studying and reviewing relentlessly, of course in the comfort of her own house. Never would she be caught studying seriously in school!
And all of this for what? Just so people can admire and call her "smart?"
'I'm not being shallow,' Himawari reasoned out to herself one night just after she finished her summer home work. 'I simply know how to manage my possibilities.'
On a related note, Himawari also does not think much of sports. Or any physical activities for the matter. She absolutely hates sweating! Give her a ball and you might as well be writing her name on a Death Note. (1) No, no, no. Himawari wasn't born for sports. However, all of her classmates found her "clumsiness" endearing and even showed sympathy for her whenever she would casually mention how she would love to become better at tennis- by far the most popular sport in school based on the number of frantic tennis team followers and her own observations.
The idea of work turned Himawari off. Sure, she was always the first one to raise her hand whenever her teacher would ask if someone wanted to become a volunteer for a project, play, charity, and the like. And sure, she always worked overtime even when not needed. Frankly, Himawari could do with none of that stuff! She only did those things because she realized early on that the "teacher's pet" card can bring her more opportunities to show herself. The real Ito Himawari wouldn't want to do somebody else's work anyway.
Pretending and trying to be someone else, that's what she was good at. She was like an actress, but everyday was a stage. She was an illusionist who knew exactly how to make good use of smokes and mirrors. Most of the people she knew were pushovers anyway. Her white lies were harmless so what's the big deal?
Still, to become the manager of the tennis team? Even she knew it would require a lot of acting finesse to look happy while doing that job. That was of course if she would be selected.
She supposed it could be fun. The instant level up in popularity that certainly comes with the job certainly won't hurt. But Atobe Keigo is the captain of that ship and he can be so, well, Atobe Keigo!
Oh, how could she ever possibly begin to describe Hyoutei's superstar? Well, maybe the word perfect would do. After all, he never seemed to make do with anything less than perfect.
With a slight tinge of jealousy, Himawari thought of how universally adored her schoolmate was. He rules Hyoutei like, fittingly enough, a king. Aside from being the captain of the Tennis Club in Hyoutei's Upper Division, Atobe is also the Student Council President who consistently places top marks in school. What a force to be reckoned with!
What was that he always says again? Be awed at my presence or something similar to that? Whatever. At least he had a reputation for being a narcissist and a diva. Even the greatest heroes have their own faults after all. An Achilles Heel, if Himawari may be so bold to say it out loud. It's very lovely to know that a much admired character possesses such an undesirable personality trait. How people could overlook all of these, however, was beyond her. (2)
"Himawari-chan, are you okay?"
Himawari, who had been spacing out, was snapped out of her reverie. She berated herself for showing such a stupid and dreamy face. Unacceptable! She wanted to be known as the smart and talented girl-next-door, not a comedienne with a penchant for making funny faces!
"Uh, Earth to Himawari?"
"Yes, Hana-san!" This time, an alert Himawari responded in a very pleasant tone. "I was merely pondering on how I could impress the Tennis Club. To tell you the truth," Himawari pretended to look troubled as she dropped her voice. "I am very doubtful of my abilities."
Yuki gave a loud and hearty laugh. "Ha! If they won't take our Himawari-chan, then it would surely mean the end of the world as we know it!"
Hana shot Yuki a dirty look. "Are you saying that I do not have a chance in attaining the position, huh?"
"That's not what I meant!" Yuki said. "Ah, mou! Where are you two going?" Hana dragged a smiling Himawari and walked off, leaving Yuki to chase after her two friends.
(1) Death Note is a popular manga/anime that centers around Light Yagami, a bored student who finds a notebook carelessly lying around. Of course, being the snoopy brat that he is, he picks the notebook to check it out. As it turns out, this notebook has the power to- what else?- cause the death of any human written on it. Light becomes obsessed with killing people and madness ensues. (Riiigghttt….)
(2)An Achilles Heel is a person's crucial weak point. It was aptly named for the only part of the body of the Greek hero Achilles which was vulnerable.
AN:Finally! My first Prince of Tennis fanfic! And it centers around… an OC? NANI! Haha, but seriously. I tried making Himawari-chan as anti-Sueish as I could. It's actually amusing that such a sarcastic and lazy character's grand ambition is to become a Mary Sue; Himawari longs to become perfect after all. But I guess she has her nice side too. Maybe. Oh, and this is an AtobeOC fic. Just so you'll be warned. But the first five chapters or so would be about Himawari trying to fit in with the Hyoutei team. Seigaku mayalso make a cameo appearance. Huh. We'll see…
Oh, and there won't be much too tennis in this story. _
I accept constructive criticism. Flames would be ignored. Hehe! Please review! Thank you!