By Lynn Bartlett
Perhaps agreeing to play Jirou was a mistake, but it was one that Marui couldn't really resent, not when the blonde was bouncing around the court like he'd just been given exactly what he'd wanted for Christmas.
"Ne, ne, Marui-kun, show me your tight-rope walking!" Jirou called, his enthusiastic voice carrying over the nets and somehow energizing the Rikkai player as well.
As he watched the other boy leap back to the baseline with energy that only came from overdose of two many highly sugared products, Marui brushed a hand across his forehead, noting with irritation that sweat was making his bangs stick to his skin in a most unpleasant fashion. The hot August sun was merciless, and he snapped his gum, reflecting that it was starting to go stale.
He had to give Jirou credit. How long had it been since someone had made a match last long enough that his gum had lost its flavor? Those Seigaku idiots?
Marui judged how good his opponents were by his bubble gum.
Right before every game, after he finished snacking on a piece of cake (a habit which Yanagi said was detrimental to his abilities), Marui always popped a fresh piece of gum into his mouth. The flavor would vary according to his mood; sometimes it would be relatively normal, like strawberry or grape, but when his mood was sour, his gum would reflect that. He remembered how Yanagi had started collecting data on his gum choices and comparing it to a mood chart, and told him that the next time he felt like tangerine gum, he should tell Sanada so he could be placed in singles.
Marui had rolled his eyes. He could have told Yanagi that exotic flavors meant his mood was in rarer form.
He snapped and cracked his gum, going to the baseline to prepare to serve. His serve was decent, but it was his net play which made him truly dangerous - and that was exactly why Jirou was so fascinated by him. If Jirou didn't manage to score a return ace, they'd both end up at the net, and then the battle would begin.
There were few people who could match him in his forte, but Jirou came close - one day, he might actually lose. But the strangest thing about playing Jirou....
Was the way he laughed. No matter who took the point, Jirou cheered enthusiastically, complementing Marui if he won, or exulting in his triumph if he managed to score. It was strange to play against someone who didn't seem to feel jealous.
There was less than a game left to play, but Jirou was still looking at him with that expression of expectation.
"Ne, ne... Marui-kun! I want to play!"
He served, and the volley started to drag out. It was a long rally, something Marui rarely experienced, but eventually he took the point.
Jirou didn't even seem to notice. "Darnit! I almost had you... ne, Marui-kun? Can you do that wrist-twist thing again?"
Marui merely snorted, but his stomach twisted. His gum tasted like cardboard.