Disclaimer: Tennis no Ohjisama is the property of Konomi Takeshi and its licensers. Lyrics from Evanescence's song "Anywhere".

Notes: The author would like to point out that there is one obvious scene missing that can be found on her livejournal and is rated NC-17 but was not posted here for obvious reasons. She also notes that the characters may be a bit OOC, and that the story may ride the fluffy white waves of clouds from time to time.

Dear My Love
By CalicoKitten

Dear My Love,
Haven't you wanted to be with me?

"Oh, I'm so glad that you were able to babysit for me today! My husband and I really need this," she said happily. She turned to give Oishi a wink before biting down on the pen that she held. Twirling it between her fingers thoughtfully, it dropped when a high-pitched squeal entered her ears.

The small baby attempted to hit Oishi's hands away when he reached into the cradle to pick him up. Tapping the tiny nose gently with his finger, he pulled it away when the child began to drool, coughing and eyes watering. "No problem. I'm glad to help."

He peered over at her, mindful of the baby in his arms and taking care not to jostle him. She'd been absorbed in her work for some time now. He wondered what she was doing, and he didn't know whether or not it was rude to ask, but he was curious.

"I'm sorry, I'll be done in a minute," she told him brightly.

"May I ask what you're doing?"

She threw a crumpled piece of paper at him. "So formal, Syuichirou! And coming from the boy who saved my baby!"

He blushed hotly under her reprimand. It was a bit unnerving to him, the fact that she placed so much emphasis on the time when he kept her from falling down the steps along with the fact that she didn't call him by his surname. Certainly, anybody with a conscience would have tried to prevent a pregnant woman's fall.

"Well, if you're that curious, I'm just writing a letter," she answered, signing the paper with a flourish before folding it and placing it in an envelope, carefully and meticulously as if she didn't want to waste the time to write another one. She looked at her watch, glanced at the car waiting outside, and screeched, "I'll be right there, honey!"

The baby didn't even blanch at her yell. Oishi figured he probably got his scream from his mother, as his father was a quiet man, prone to cheerful smiles and soft words. It was interesting what traits the baby would inherit.

She threw the letter unhurriedly into the drawer of her desk and flashed him a smile. "I'm leaving now, honey. Be sure to take good care of him."

Oishi had no idea whether she meant himself or the baby, but kissing the top of her baby's head, she flashed him a smile. "You know, Syuichirou, I'm not against you having friends over while you're looking after him. I know you're responsible."

He frowned, confused. Eiji might be willing to come over, and Tezuka definitely would, but by the tone of her voice, he didn't think she meant his teammates.

Grabbing her coat from off the chair, she ran to the front door, waving at him as she clumsily tried to climb into her high heeled shoes.

"You should tell that stern-looking boy to come over sometime. The one with the baseball hat. I want to meet him and see how he's treating my son's savior."

Oishi felt the roots of his head turn red at her implication. "Wh-what are you talking about?"

"Don't play coy with me. Anybody would be lucky to have you."

She shut the door before he could say anything else, leaving him wondering at how she would know such a thing.

And Dear My Love,
Haven't you longed to be free?

It became a habit to stop by this particular café once every week or so, though he supposed they did it more for Syuichirou than for himself, as Syuichirou was especially fond of the hot chocolate here. Personally, he never usually traveled so far for a single cup of coffee, but he was becoming fond of the little café. The waitress appeared to have a knack for coffee-making, and more importantly, he could tell that it made Syuichirou happy.

How Syuichirou's state of mind came to matter to him, he didn't know. The other fukubuchou liked to remark that it was luck that they'd met so many times after the tournament, and that Sanada himself just got used to seeing him around, but underneath his words, there always lay something that he couldn't quite pick out. Then, he'd always answer no, it wasn't just that, and those few words would brighten the other up instantly.

Today, with their usual waitress conspicuously absent, the new waiter was currently succeeding in fraying Sanada's last nerves as he placed their order on the table without a word of greeting. His coffee had an enormous lump of sugar in the bottom, and he couldn't smell any trace of vanilla. Syuichirou, for his part, seemed unhappy with his drink, and as Sanada looked over, he saw that the waiter had given him coffee. Black coffee.

Syuichirou didn't like coffee.

"Excuse me," he said loudly to the waiter behind him as Syuichirou glanced over curiously from sniffing his drink apprehensively.

Seigaku's fukubuchou coughed. "Ah…coffee's fine for me, Genichirou. Really. I don't want to cause any trouble."

Sanada frowned, reaching over and pulling the drink next to his own by the saucer. "Well, I'm not fond whatever this is, so if I ask for what I actually ordered, I can just get yours, too."

"Yes?" a voice interrupted.

"This isn't what we asked for," Sanada stated bluntly. Syuichirou, from the corner of his eye, blushed slightly.

The waiter frowned, confused. "It isn't?"

"No, we asked for -"

"Oh, right, coffee with vanilla and hot chocolate! I am so sorry!" the waiter cried out sheepishly, attempting to bow without dropping the tray he held.

Syuichirou looked incredibly uncomfortable, Sanada noted as he stared unabashedly at the boy. It reminded him of the time when he first kissed him. Syuichirou hadn't been expecting it, and taking him by surprise pleased Sanada greatly. There was a tiny urge to do it in front of the waiter, but he knew that they both would end up upset about it, and he didn't want to risk it in any way.

"No, that's fine," Syuichirou replied, chewing the bottom of his lip nervously. "Thank you."

He turned his attention back to Sanada when the waiter left and quickly replaced their drinks in favor of what they actually ordered. What Syuichirou was doing couldn't really be considered pouting, as pouting was what little kids did – or what people like Kirihara did – but it made his eyebrows furrow and a crease appear between them.

"You could have been nicer," he accused, drinking carefully to avoid being burnt.

Sanada sipped his coffee. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay," said Syuichirou quickly and smiled, the wrinkle disappearing on his forehead as he did so.

It reappeared an instant later when another patron of the café fell against his chair roughly, causing hot chocolate to splatter over the table. Sanada felt his eyes narrow immediately, especially when the man didn't bother to apologize, and he stood up to apprehend the person for it. Even if the man was elderly, it was especially rude to do that to Syuichirou.

"Gen-chan," the other boy sighed wearily. "Sit down. I don't want you accosting an old man."

He was never one to take orders from another. Only one person before had the right to ask anything of him, and he was in the hospital now, recuperating from life-saving surgery. There were two now, he supposed as he sat down, taking white napkins from the metal dispenser and turning them brown as he mopped up the liquid on the table.

A light buzzing noise caught his attention then, as it did Syuichirou's. He recognized it as his cell phone.

"Do you want me to answer it?" Syuichirou asked, retrieving the cell phone easily from Sanada's bag on the floor. "My hands are still clean."

"Are they?" he asked distractedly. He wasn't certain of who was calling him, but he had his suspicions, and if Syuichirou answered it, that person would make sure that everything would change, and he wasn't sure if either of them wanted it yet.

Against his judgement, he nodded as Syuichirou waited for an answer. Pressing the button, Syuichirou answered, "Moshi moshi."

Listening to the sound of the other's voice was comforting, he realized. It surprised him – always managed to surprise him – at how he could be placated by such a soft, undemanding voice. Yet he knew it wasn't completely undemanding. The strength behind such a voice belied his appearance.

"Oh, Oishi Syuichirou desu. How are you, Yukimura-san?"

Sanada's ears perked up as he heard that name, and Syuichirou noticed, immediately ending his polite conversation and turning the phone over to him before cleaning up the rest of the mess on their table.

"Seiichi."

"Genichirou! You didn't tell me you were going to be with Oishi-kun today! I wouldn't have called then."

"It's not a problem."

"But it is." A pause. "Genichirou, I want to meet Oishi-kun."

"Seiichi - ."

"You've been dating him for some time now. How long has it been? Three months? Five? You must be serious about him, but I haven't even met him."

Seiichi sounded disappointed. In him, most likely, because Sanada knew exactly what he spoke of, but he couldn't help the defensive streak that crept up on him because he didn't want Seiichi to continue.

"You've met before."

"Not formally." A sigh, and Seiichi sounded exasperated when he spoke, "Let me meet him. Better yet, introduce him to the team before you bring him to meet me, and let him bring you to meet his friends too, okay?"

"I'm not doing that, Seiichi."

"You will!" He sounded frustrated now, and Sanada knew why, but he didn't care as much as he should have. It was presumptuous of Seiichi to ask such a thing.

"Sanada, I know you probably think it isn't my place to say anything, but you NEED to do this, don't you understand? I'm going to call Renji and the others and tell them if you don't take my advice, and I expect to see you two together next week, during your visit."

"You're asking a lot of me, you know."

"I know. I'm asking a lot of the both of you, but I'm doing this for you, not me. Now, I'm hanging up, and I'll see you two next week."

"…Sayonara," Sanada answered before he realized that Seiichi had already hung up. It should have annoyed him, and it actually did irritate him that he asked such a thing, but he owed Seiichi far too much not to follow through with a simple act.

But Seiichi had said it wasn't for him. Did he necessarily have to do this then?

Glancing over at Syuichirou, he found the shorter boy gazing at him curiously, and concernedly. It was just one of the many things he liked about the other fukubuchou. He was perhaps politer than Seiichi, which was a standard close to impossible, and he knew enough to give others space when they wanted it. Maybe that was why he and Seigaku's captain were best friends, but thinking of Tezuka Kunimitsu provoked jealousy from him, and he never liked the feeling.

"Seiichi wants you to meet him and my teammates," he said flatly, expressionless. It was an emotion he was good at. He preferred impassivity to anything else, even if it wasn't entirely flawless.

"Really?" Syuichirou immediately looked hopeful, then anxious. It wasn't like the anxiety that would make Syuichirou endearingly distressed however – it was quite the opposite.

He found that he didn't quite like it.

"Do you want me to?"

The disillusion on Syuichirou's face was disturbing to look at, and he couldn't quite meet his eyes when he answered, "Yes."

"Oh," was the response. Silence reigned between them for a minute or so, and Sanada detested it. It reminded him far too much of when they originally met, and full of the awkwardness that only complete strangers would have for each other. It was fearless to break, as it would assume an entirely different air, but Syuichirou didn't seem to care as he said, "Well, you can meet my friends next week, too."

Sanada didn't say anything. It felt like he was supposed to, but he had no idea what to say. Did Syuichirou actually want to introduce him to the rest of Seigaku? It wouldn't really have been an introduction, as he'd already met them before, but it would be an introduction to their relationship. In a way, he did want this. It would ease his jealousy of Seigaku's captain, but he liked to think that he trusted Syuichirou.

"Ne, Gen-chan," spoke Syuichirou, interrupting his train of thought. Sanada frowned at the nickname, but didn't say anything.

"Hm?"

The other boy thrust a piece of paper with a poorly drawn picture on it. "What do you think this looks like? And don't say anything about the quality – I only scribbled it down."

Sanada frowned again, glancing once at the drawing before asking, "Why?"

"I did these personality tests to see if it'd help decide our lineup. It didn't really work, but that's not the point. What do you see?"

"When did you do that?" he asked, curious.

"A while ago."

Syuichirou motioned at the drawing then, distracting Sanada. The picture was horrible, he decided. Hopefully, Syuichirou had better artistic skills than this. Something round – or maybe pointy – was drawn, and little wiggly lines covered the paper.

"I don't know."

Syuichirou frowned. "Guess."

He squinted and looked at it again. "It looks like…an igloo."

After answering, he glanced up. There was nothing else but disappointment written in Syuichirou's face, due entirely to the answer he had given.

"What should it have looked like?" he asked quickly, not knowing why.

Syuichirou hastened to correct him. "No, no. There's nothing wrong with what you said."

"Then what is it?"

Syuichirou looked away uncomfortably, squirming in his seat slightly as he finished the rest of his hot chocolate. Sanada waited patiently for his answer, cupping his half-empty drink in his hands carefully.

"I just…thought it resembled a mountain."

Sanada froze, his eyes focused only on Syuichirou's face as the boy's eyes drifted off to the side and out of the window thoughtfully. Perhaps unhappily, and he didn't like to see Syuichirou unhappy.

"A tall mountain that'd be difficult to climb."

Almost immediately, his eyes met Sanada's, and he grinned, bringing a hand to the back of his neck almost guiltily.

"But that's just me, ne?"

I can't keep pretending that I don't even know you.
And at sweet night, you are my own.

"Oishi!"

Oishi winced at the loudness of the yell, covering his ears and pushing the person next to him to a safer distance. "What, Shishido?"

A cap was shoved in front of his face, splattered all over by the contents of regurgitated baby food, and Oishi couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey, it's my favorite hat!"

"Just clean it when you get home then," Oishi replied wisely. He jotted down another sentence for his English homework before closing his book and smiling up at his distressed Hyotei friend. "I bet Ohtori-kun is glad that he didn't come with you. The poor baby can't hold down his food at all today."

"Oh, well…" Shishido seemed a little embarrassed as he dropped onto the couch and cushioned his head against a particularly fluffy pillow. "I kind of told him not to come anyway."

Oishi frowned and poked at the bread on top of his sandwich inquisitively. "Why not?"

"Because," he began, then switched positions and rolled over onto his stomach, peering over Oishi's shoulder at the sandwiches that were made for them. "I thought it might be weird. And that bread looks moldy."

The sandwich, on a whole, presented a very mouthwatering image to the hungry Oishi, but on closer inspection, he saw that Shishido was probably right. There were interesting spots of color on the edges of the bread, and he couldn't help but wonder if she knew her bread was rotten.

"Why would it be weird?"

A hand reached past him and grabbed an unopened can of soda. He could feel the sofa shift when Shishido shrugged and popped the tab of the can open loudly. "I don't know. Because I never see you with that Sanada. And don't you like spending time with me?"

Oishi bit the inside of his cheek gently. Shishido had a point; though he didn't feel like a third wheel when he spent time with the two of them, many times he'd felt awkward, or possibly wistful, at the sight of their affection. No doubt that it wasn't all due to Rikkai's fukubuchou, but it was difficult, he admitted. Shishido in particular was always willing to lend an ear, as they had become rather good friends after Seigaku's training matches with Hyoutei, but he didn't think it was in his nature – either of their natures – to divulge his worries to anyone.

"I'm wounded at your silence," Shishido informed him. He chewed at the rim of the aluminum can then, and Oishi held himself back from notifying him that doing that would ruin his teeth. He had this pensive look on his face, and Oishi felt like he was being dissected from the inside and outside. "You should invite him to come babysitting with you sometime."

"Why?" Oishi asked.

Shishido gave him a look. "Don't you think it'd be a nice gesture?"

The comment was amazingly perceptive. Despite being slightly arrogant and vain, Shishido had remarkable insight on people. Maybe it was because he attended a stereotypical high-class school, but Oishi was sure it had more to do with Shishido's defeat by Tachibana. He had gained incredible insight from that one incident. It might have been due to his enormous growth in tennis, yet Oishi knew it was because he had the strength to rise up in defeat, and that was often worth more than the skills of the best tennis player.

He said, quietly, "Maybe."

"Maybe," Shishido agreed, snatching Oishi's English novel off of the table and flipping through it with disinterest. "But maybe it's just me, you know?"

Oishi sighed and placed one of the sandwiches on Shishido's head.

"Probably not."

Take my hand, we're leaving here tonight.
There's no need to tell anyone, they'd only hold us down.

It was often said that a common misunderstanding between people who have never really met would lead to animosity when they first did. Rumors were one thing that could spike such hatred; a misconception was another. Or, in his case, perhaps it was an ill-fated tennis competition between two equally skilled teams.

Sanada could say that it was true as he approached the metal-fenced tennis courts warily. Syuichirou told him he could come today, though he didn't have to, but he knew it wasn't just a simple request. It was one thing to be told he didn't have to come; it was another to actually know better.

Luckily, the non-regulars of the club appeared to be running laps that day, and all he needed to confront were the regulars of Syuichirou's team, who were currently gazing at him as if he were an alien. He ignored this as he entered the courts without a word of greeting.

Syuichirou beamed brightly at him once he caught his eye, and Tezuka simply nodded expressionlessly.

"Regulars, Sanada-san will be observing our practice today," Seigaku's captain informed them, ignoring their incredulous looks and protests.

"Ah, Tezuka," the one with glasses spoke up, and Sanada recognized him as a friend of Renji's – the one who beat him. "Do you really think it's a good idea?"

"Yeah!" Kikumaru Eiji spoke up, eyeing him suspiciously where he stood, and he frowned openly at the acrobatic player. He remembered Syuichirou's doubles partner quite well. "He could steal our secrets!"

"We have no secrets," Tezuka said rather bluntly. "Even if we did, I doubt they would last very long."

"Ah, that's no fun," Fuji Syuusuke spoke up. He smiled graciously at Sanada, and he allowed himself a tip of the head to acknowledge the prodigy's presence. Fuji Syuusuke was an incredible talent, he admitted to himself, for one that seemed to play just for the simple enjoyment of the game.

The underclassmen of Seigaku's regulars merely stared at him from where they stood. He wasn't particularly fond of the first-year, but he and the spiky-haired boy had potential. The other – Kaidoh Kaoru, was it – also was a budding talent, but Sanada could see an aspect in his tennis that made him different from the other two. He was dissimilar to Kirihara, though, which was probably a good thing, and it was interesting to see where Seigaku would be next year in terms of expertise and leadership.

"Why are you here?" Kawamura Takeshi asked him politely while he glared at the red-headed boy openly.

"Oh, um, I can answer that," Syuichirou interrupted quickly, blushing hotly. "You see, we're…um…how do you say it…"

Sanada finished, "Oishi and I are dating."

There was a silence for a split second before a high-pitched "Nyaaaaaaaah!" cracked through the air like a whip and gave Sanada perverse pleasure in having shocked Syuichirou's doubles partner and possibly crushing his unrealistic and impossible hopes, whatever they may be. Fuji probably hadn't known, despite his famed intuition, but he simply smiled wider while the brat and the one named after a peach dropped their mouths open in surprise.

Turning back to Syuichirou, he was disturbed by the dejected expression displayed openly on Syuichirou's face before he realized he was being watched. He gave him a quick smile before speaking to Tezuka momentarily.

"Quiet down!" Tezuka nearly barked out. He didn't do much more than raise his voice before the noise stopped and everything came to a standstill.

Again, it was often said that with a single misunderstanding, animosity between two people could last forever, and that was what should have passed between them as Tezuka swept his eyes over Seigaku's regulars to meet his own. But it was also said that hostility often occurred simply in the mind of one person towards another, and that was what he acutely felt as their eyes connected. Tezuka was trying to tell him something, but he wasn't sure what.

"Today is doubles training. Fuji and Kawamura versus Momoshiro and Kikumaru. Echizen and Inui against Oishi and Kaidoh," he ordered, glancing away and adjusting his glasses. "I want to see teamwork today – anyone who doesn't show it will be punished properly."

"Inui juice," Sanada heard Momoshiro mutter to Echizen as the younger boy nodded in agreement. Renji had mentioned something before about a horrid juice that knocked him out once before, but he didn't have time to ponder this when Syuichirou approached him.

"I'm glad you came today, Sanada," were the words spoken quietly before Syuichirou moved away.

Tezuka's message suddenly came to him as he watched Syuichirou take his place on court next to Kaido, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn't count that as a misunderstanding between him and Syuichirou when there was so much more to it that he couldn't even begin to imagine.

Today, he hated the sound of his name from Syuichirou's lips.

So by the morning's light, we'll be halfway to anywhere,
Where love is more than just your name.

"I thought I told you bring him here after he met the rest of the team," Yukimura frowned, casting a dark look at his fukubuchou. "Oishi-kun, he never listens, does he?"

"Seiichi."

"Well, you don't."

He grinned widely at Oishi from atop the colorless blankets of his hospital bed. From the moment Oishi had set foot in the immaculate room, he saw that Yukimura Seiichi was everything Genichirou had mentioned. Polite and courteous, he had made sure that Oishi felt at ease before him, even poking fun at Genichirou in the process. The more the minutes ticked by, the less uncomfortable he felt, though the more reminiscent he became.

"Oishi-kun," Yukimura said seriously. He stuck a finger out and pointed at him frankly. "Genichirou is lucky to have you."

"Seiichi!" Genichirou sounded frustrated by now.

Despite the congeniality between them, Oishi couldn't help but feel some insecurity. He suspected that he shouldn't even have come here today, but Genichirou had said that Yukimura insisted, and who was he to disobey a sick person's wish? But part of him whispered to him that it was exactly that which was the problem. He simply came because Yukimura asked him to.

Yukimura seemed remarkably skilled at catching the most miniscule expressions of his doubt, however, and with a wave of a hand, motioned him over.

"Would you leave us alone for a bit, Genichirou? I want to speak to Oishi-kun alone."

His fukubuchou paused for merely a second before answering, "Okay."

He didn't spare either of them a parting glance before leaving the room, the door locking behind him and trapping both of them in the unforgiving atmosphere.

Yukimura took that opportunity to study him more fully, eyes shadowy and inchoate. He was extremely astute, Oishi realized as he himself gazed back. In times like these, he often found himself the subject of Tezuka's scrutiny, but it was just one characteristic the two buchous had in common.

"You guys are trying, aren't you?" Yukimura asked suddenly. His words made Oishi step back, not because of the content but because of the unexpected break in silence.

"I don't know what you're saying."

Yukimura sighed. "Give him some time. As a matter of fact, give both of yourselves a little time, will you? I guess you've had enough of it, though, but a bit more won't hurt, right?"

His words bore a sharp resemblance to Shishido's own a few days before. Oishi didn't have time to contemplate this before Yukimura spoke again.

"Saa, Oishi-kun. I met a nice lady the other day."

He replied absentmindedly, "Oh, really?"

"Yep. She brought her baby in for another appointment this week, and she told me about the nicest young man that prevented her from falling down the stairs when her water broke."

He usually blushed easily whenever anybody talked of him, especially at school, where several of the female population actively participated in and formed a fan club for him. It was a bit unnerving, in a way, especially when Genichirou found out about it and was in a foul mood for days, brooding more than usual.

It wasn't the tinge of respect in his words that garnered his attention than what was said. He frowned and said, "Another appointment?"

"Third one this week, probably the last," Yukimura responded.

"The last?"

"I think so."

I have dreamt of a place for you and I
Where no one knows who we are there.

A thousand different scenarios played out within his mind before he relented to bringing Syuichirou to one of Rikkai's tennis club practices. However, not all of them revolved around Kirihara and his constant clumsiness – a good deal involved the third-year Niou. The trickster was unpredictable, even to his doubles partner Yagyuu, but Sanada liked Yagyuu far more for his ability to keep out of trouble. To keep them both out of trouble.

It didn't seem to be working today, however.

"So, are you two fucking yet?" Niou inquired, innocent in tone but not in mannerism.

A twitch of his eyebrow, and Sanada wanted to smack him one right there, but Syuichirou was definitely against violent displays of human nature and had quite blatantly told him so at the start of their relationship.

Syuichirou blushed heavily at the choice of words, and Sanada realized that he had misjudged Yagyuu greatly when the bespectacled boy berated, "Niou-kun, watch your language. It makes Oishi-kun blush. Besides, I think he would prefer the words 'making love' instead of 'fucking'."

"Niou, Yagyuu," Sanada snapped sternly, "Be quiet."

"Maa, so Oishi-senpai is the one managing to rouse all these prurient longings within Sanada-senpai?" Kirihara piped up curiously. His vocabulary was rather large for second-year, but Sanada wasn't concerned about that when his eyebrow began twitching even more furiously.

Renji eyed him peculiarly from his place against the chain-linked fence. His eyes were closed, though that was nothing to Sanada. A friendship from the instant they met their freshman year formed a connection between them that was only strengthened when Seiichi joined them.

The bubblegum-chewer, Marui, always remained somewhat eccentric in his mind, especially with his refusal to do away with chewing gum while playing after nearly choking on a piece the day before. He could also be quite naïve at times, and Sanada drew parallels between Seigaku and Rikkai when he popped out, "What if he decides to steal our secrets?"

"Do you have secrets to steal?" Syuichirou countered enigmatically and raised one finger.

Without much thought, Jackal answered, "Nope."

"Dude," Marui snapped, bursting a pink bubble in front of the taller boy's face. "You didn't have to say that with such finality. We look like losers now."

"Losers with nothing to hide," Yagyuu added smartly. "And since we've nothing to hide, it's all the more obvious that we're losers, because we can't hide that, now can we?"

Niou snorted, leaning over to drape an arm around his doubles partner's shoulder. "No, we're just losers because we're having this stupid conversation."

"Oishi-senpai must think we're the most intelligent people he's ever met," Kirihara added before squawking and tripping on a well-placed racket by Niou, catching the side of the tennis ball cart for balance and almost knocking it over.

Sanada could physically feel the sweat radiating off of his brow due to the incompetence his teammates continued to show in front of Syuichirou. And they managed to place in the final four at Nationals, impressing everybody with a higher-than-junior-high tennis sense and previous National championships? At this point, it was a fluke at most – a miraculous fluke at that, he decided while rubbing his forehead tensely.

The only person not to have added anything to the ridiculous conversation was still studying him subtly from his spot reclining against the fence. He seemed as if he knew something Sanada didn't, and it annoyed him to no end. Something that he couldn't grasp, or couldn't understand well enough and probably should, found itself caught by two other people. It irritated him to no end, especially when one of them was Seigaku's Tezuka Kunimitsu, a nearly impossible shadow to pass through.

"Don't just stand there," he directed to Renji. "Help me quiet this nonsense."

"But what do you expect?"

Sanada frowned. He abhorred abstract questions. "What do you mean?"

"…"

"Tell me."

Casting his eyes quickly over at Syuichirou, Renji shrugged dismissively. Syuichirou, currently in the midst of debating what constituted a loser, spoke animatedly with Yagyuu and Niou. Niou eyed him with some trepidation, and Sanada decided that if Niou proved to be a nuisance to Syuichirou, he really would smack him right there and then.

"Well," Renji's voice broke through, careful and articulate, "This is the first time you've brought him to meet us."

"So?"

"Genichirou, of course they would act like this. I told you – it's the first time he's been here."

All I want is to give my life only to you.
I dreamt so long, I cannot dream anymore.

"You still haven't mailed that letter?"

She giggled inaudibly, flicking her wrist up and down at him for a purpose he didn't quite understand. "Syuichirou, it's not the right time yet. There's a time and a place for everything, you know."

"Is that why both of you were at the hospital a week ago?"

It hit the mark as he expected, her stopping in the process of wiping clean the crystal glassware in the sink and him waiting patiently for an answer.

"For a check-up, Syuichirou. Just a check-up."

He frowned at the obvious half-truth. "That's not what I heard."

Flashing back to the hospital scene in his mind, the dip of Yukimura's tired eyelids and the reality that rested behind them, he saw the muscles in her shoulders tense with undisguised weariness and regret that was only hinted at.

"That young man in the hospital must have said something, didn't he?"

"He didn't have to," he answered, sitting at the kitchen table. "I asked one of the doctors. It was supposed to be confidential."

"Syuichirou, I didn't want you to know yet," she confessed to him, and with surprise, he saw her eyes glazing over, but she smiled blissfully in spite of it. "The news shocked us – still does – but I just think about what you've done for us, and it makes me so happy."

He looked down, sandwiching the sleeve of his school uniform between his hands and rubbing it coolly. "I haven't done anything."

"Don't be ridiculous, Syuichirou. If you weren't there that day, I may never have had my baby. I don't know what I would've done then."

"You wouldn't be waiting to lose him."

"Don't be silly," she told him firmly. Wiping her eyes discreetly against the back of her hand, she took the letter from off the counter top and came over to where he sat, removing the fabric of his shirt from his grasp and taking one of his hands into her own. "Do you know why I wrote this?"

He couldn't quite meet her eyes. "No."

"I have this silly belief," she giggled, gazing at Oishi with an embarrassed expression on her face, "That a letter with someone's most personal thoughts and feelings written into it will definitely be read by whomever it's addressed to."

"But what if –."

"Even if that someone is dead," she finished.

It was completely idealistic, and almost certainly implausible. But it rang nicely within his ears, full of hope and capitalizing on the one thing that no person knew anything about. The words brightened his spirits, casting a spotlight on what would help make her life bearable after the day occurred, and while he was still hesitant on why she insisted he keep coming over every week, he understood perhaps more than he did before.

"It's a nice thought," he answered, squeezing her hand back gently.

Let's run away, I'll take you there.
There's no need to tell anyone.
They'd only hold us down.

Each time he encountered Tezuka Kunimitsu, the circumstances normally favored the stoic captain of Seigaku. Of course, this usually only referred to their bouts on court, and Sanada established another point in his own favor by factoring in one decisive detail – although Syuichirou remained Tezuka's most important friend, he was, exclusively, the person dating him. Nonetheless, it bothered him considerably whenever the other captain's name was mentioned, but he couldn't help it. He sensed a deep connection between the two – one perhaps stronger than his with Yukimura and Renji – and maintained a secret suspicion that if he deleted himself from the equation, they would be more than just best friends in the far too distant future.

Tezuka was also a very quiet and unobtrusive character, so it startled him when they crossed paths one day under the brilliant pink colors of the sakura petals in a park close to his school.

"Tezuka," he acknowledged after recovering from the minor shock of seeing his rival off the courts.

Tezuka nodded briefly and moved over from where he sat on the park bench. Most likely he was admiring the fall of the cherry blossom petals, though Sanada didn't know him well enough to speculate. "Hello, Sanada-san," the brown-haired boy answered, more cordial than Sanada in greeting. "I thought I might meet you here."

Sanada's eyebrow raised in curiosity at the cryptic nature of his words. He sat down in the space offered to him, and for a while, they didn't say anything, merely gazing at the pinkness covering the ground.

"How is that?"

"Rikkai is located near here, isn't it?" Tezuka responded neutrally. "You probably pass by here a lot."

"And you probably wanted to catch me here."

Tezuka said nothing, so Sanada took that as an affirmation. "Why?"

A frown settled across the features of the other boy, lips thinning and a crease appearing between his eyebrows. His expression reminded Sanada far too much of Syuichirou, but then again, with Tezuka, everything always found a way back to Syuichirou.

"Because of Oishi."

Always Syuichirou. "What about him?"

Tezuka fixed a calculating look on him. Nothing foul or menacing exuded from his stare, but Sanada caught it deftly and returned it equally.

"Do you know how pleased he was when you introduced him to your team?" he asked.

Sanada replied, "What does that have to do with you and me?"

"Nothing," Tezuka answered, and Sanada saw a flicker of dark lashes against pale skin when Tezuka raised a hand to his forehead with a muted sigh. "I just thought you might be interested. I don't think I've ever heard Oishi speak of you when it wasn't just the two of you."

"Are you implying something?" hissed Sanada angrily. He wasn't quite sure why he reacted so strongly, but something in the tone of the bespectacled boy felt accusing, and he disliked the emotion it brought with it.

"No." Tezuka crossed his legs, reclining against the bench easily as if oblivious to his companion's resentment. "Oishi once said that he thought he should do something, but he wasn't sure if he should."

His eyes slid discreetly over to eye Sanada for any reaction. "It felt like a love affair at times, he said."

Any of the points he might have held in his favor before this conversation immediately flew out of his hands and into Tezuka's own after that one statement. He was losing, completely and utterly to this silent boy beside him. But now, his respect for the other boy grew because of his own consideration for Syuichirou and, in a way, for himself. He wasn't patronizing Sanada, merely telling him in the subtlest of terms what to watch out for, and that was, in his mind, perhaps more humiliating than being defeated a hundred times by the same tennis opponent.

Tezuka opened his mouth to add more to his previous comment, but before he could, leather-clad arms wrapped around him from behind, and a lavender-haired boy latched onto the neck of Seigaku's captain with his teeth.

"Kunimitsu-baka. You could've told me this park was so big. I had to walk around forever looking for you!"

"Keigo," Tezuka greeted, and it surprised Sanada to see a faint blush covering the cheeks of the stoic tennis player. "Don't do that. Rikkai's Sanada-san is here."

"Sanada?" asked Atobe, frowning over at him. A hint of emotion passed through his eyes when he saw Sanada sitting next to Tezuka, and almost imperceptibly, his arms tightened around the younger captain. "And what were you two doing?"

"Discussing Oishi," Tezuka replied, failing to disengage Atobe's teeth from biting his neck once more. He seemed more talkative when around Hyotei's resident diva, Sanada noted as Atobe appeared to forget that they were in public, trying to leave red marks upon the neck of Tezuka's fair skin. "I told you they're dating."

Atobe paused from his work at hand, regarding Sanada in full, and Sanada glimpsed a flicker of gratitude that mirrored his own when Atobe said bluntly and without an honorific, "Oh, that's right. Thank you then, Sanada, seeing as you prevented my Kunimitsu-chan from falling for someone other than me."

Tezuka looked annoyed. "Don't call me Kunimitsu-chan."

"But that's your name," Atobe responded. He placed a sakura petal on top of Tezuka's nose before blowing it off and yanking the younger boy's head back against the bench, kissing him sloppily backwards.

"Atobe!" Tezuka nearly growled, pushing Hyotei's captain farther away before standing and wiping his mouth with all the dignity that Seigaku's composed captain could manage after almost being molested in front of Sanada.

It amused him somewhat to see another side to Tezuka's famed composure, but the fact that he bore witness to this was another thing entirely. Quite frankly, it shocked him to realize that the captains of two of the best junior high tennis teams were dating, and he wondered what Tezuka had in mind when he told Atobe to meet him here.

"We'll be going now, Sanada," Atobe said, not even bothering to face him as his hand traveled up the buttoned shirt of his partner.

"Aa," Tezuka agreed as he calmly took Atobe's hand out, missing the arm that wound around his waist entirely. "I hope to see you and Oishi together sometime soon."

They left then, their feet carving paths through the delicate pink blossoms and his words echoing in his mind. Atobe was playfully scolding Tezuka about meeting other people behind his back, but he didn't bother to listen.

Perhaps he misjudged this Tezuka Kunimitsu.

"…Thank you," he said quietly.

By then, they were out of earshot.

So by the morning's light,
We'll be halfway to anywhere,
Where no one needs a reason.

"Thank you."

Genichirou placed the mug down gently on the ceramic saucer before Oishi. He let his own clank noisily upon the wooden table and, uncharacteristically, gave a half-smile as he slid into the booth next to Oishi.

Oishi stared at him.

"What?" Genichirou asked, and proceeded to dump sugar into his coffee.

"…Nothing," he replied. He declined to mention the obvious – that Genichirou usually added no sugar, and that he always sat across from Oishi, not next to him.

Genichirou sniffed gingerly at his coffee before tasting it with the tip of his tongue. Oishi watched him curiously, and when Genichirou seemed satisfied with its flavor, the taller boy spoke, "I saw Tezuka over the weekend."

This information piqued his curiosity. "Really? Why?"

The smallest tic developed in Genichirou's right eyebrow before he answered, "It was a coincidence."

"Really," said Oishi, not convinced for one second. Though he considered himself a bit more devious than Tezuka, he was absolutely certain that the same streak ran through his best friend, and thus, the meeting was never coincidental in the first place

"You didn't tell me he and Atobe dated."

"Are dating," Oishi corrected him. "I think it's nearing six months."

"Ah."

He propped his head against the window, swallowing the hot chocolate from the hard ceramic as he inconspicuously gazed at Genichirou through the reflection of the window. "I'm sorry."

An arm snaked around his shoulders suddenly, stunning him at the unexpected contact, and Genichirou pulled him away from the window, and into his arms. Was this the first time they'd hugged in public? No, it wasn't. But it differed from the other times, perhaps because of the lack of hesitancy, or the boldness with which it happened.

It made him happy.

Genichirou seemed to sense it, too, and he tugged him even closer, ignoring the prying stares of other customers. Oishi noted with no real surprise that their waitress didn't even bat an eye at their close proximity to each other – she was either sharp, or she didn't care.

He relaxed against Genichirou's arm, though he had to admit, it felt slightly uncomfortable and pushed his head forward at an awkward position. But it didn't really bother him.

"Genichirou?"

The fukubuchou of Rikkai stopped in the process of swiping a marshmallow from Oishi's hot chocolate. "What?"

"Would you mind if we went out with Tezuka and Atobe next Sunday?"

The taller boy frowned, dumping the white cylinder of glucose into his mug along with a fair share of whipped cream. "I thought we might attend Niou's surprise party for Yagyuu that day."

This made him even happier.

"But we can – ."

"No, it's okay," Oishi replied contentedly, interlacing his fingers with those of Genichirou's. "We can go some other time. Is it Yagyuu's birthday?"

Genichirou shook his head, snorting derisively. "No. Niou just wants an excuse to get drunk and laid when his parents are away."

"I see," he mumbled, and he felt the arm around him tighten in response.

"Do you want to go back to my place today?" Genichirou asked. He was as composed as always, raising an issue that they skirted throughout the months they've dated with his question, and Oishi knew shouldn't say yes. There was a big test next week in English literature that he really should study for.

He paused.

"Okay," he answered.

Forget this light, come with meDon't look back, you're safe now.

"Syuichirou."

He could vaguely hear the boy beneath him murmur his own name in response, and he bit down lightly on Syuichirou's collarbone, just as Atobe had marked Tezuka in front of him days before.

The invite to his house had occurred spontaneously in the café; he had completely forgotten that his parents were off in the Kyuushuu district for a business affair and had simply wanted to cook Syuichirou dinner for the evening. But soon after arriving at his house by train, they took the stairs up to his bedroom, and after seeing Syuichirou drop down onto his bed unceremoniously, he suddenly found himself lying over the rival fukubuchou, with thoughts of doing so much more.

Syuichirou whimpered softly as his tongue probed the cavern of the other's mouth, twisting and exploring to fulfill what they both needed. Somewhere beside his bed, their clothes lay strewn on the floor - when this happened, Sanada didn't know, but he recalled his frustration at Syuichirou's shirt having so many buttons, and he made a mental note to buy him another one later.

He teased Syuichirou a little more, nipping gently at his neck and licking his way down, swiveling his tongue in places here and there. Syuichirou responded well to his touches, arching this way and that, and Sanada moved his hands up to clasp Syuichirou's, kissing him again on the mouth before something occurred to him.

Pausing, he glanced down, taking in Syuichirou's flushed appearance and slender figure below him.

"What?" Syuichirou asked, and he sounded almost frustrated.

His lidded, slightly glazed expression helped ease Sanada's uncertainty.

"Syuichirou," he began, not sure how to phrase the question. "Do you…"

An irritated look passed across Syuichirou's face for a split second before he interrupted, "I know what we're doing, Genichirou."

That half-pout resurfaced upon his face when Sanada continued to remain still, and he wondered, briefly, if this was Syuichirou's first time. He dismissed the thought almost as soon as it came – despite the reservations they held in front of other people, Syuichirou would have told him if it wasn't, and he himself would have told Syuichirou.

"Would you please stop thinking?" Syuichirou nearly growled, an atypical response from the normally passive boy. He removed his hands from Sanada's and reached up, fingers combing through chopped black hair, and pulled him down for another kiss.

Everything always came back to Syuichirou.

Pushing the other boy back down into the soft linen sheets, Syuichirou willing and the slightest bit exasperated at his hesitancy, he reached into the drawer of the nightstand, searching for what he'd kept there ever since he'd begun dating Syuichirou.

It was always about Syuichirou, he mused.

Perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing.

They stayed in bed for the remainder of the night, and most of the morning.

Unlock your heart, drop your guard,
No one's left to stop you now.

"Feel free to eat whatever you want. Even the baby food. We have a lot of that stuff to get rid of."

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Genichirou squinting warily at the baby food on the table, switching his gaze over to the sleeping figure in the crib. Oishi had been surprised when Genichirou answered yes when he asked him to come over while babysitting, as Genichirou disliked children immensely and was known to frighten them away with a single look. Babies were a lot less aware of the things around him, however, so Oishi figured it was okay.

She accosted Genichirou the moment he stepped through the door. Oishi knew she would, and made sure Genichirou entered the house before he did to avoid any unnecessary attention and, of course, to let Genichirou bear the brunt of her questioning. He was extremely polite in answering her queries, however, and earned her approval in few minutes, though by the suspicious glances he threw his way, it was hard work keeping an innocent expression on his face the entire time.

He left Genichirou in the living room at her call, wandering into the kitchen aimlessly and peering at a larger pile of canned baby food on the counter, and at the woman currently stacking them into a three-dimensional pyramid.

"Did the doctors tell you something?"

She put a glass container of mashed carrots and chicken on its third level. "No. But it's my instinct. I know."

"Will you call me when it happens?" he asked, stopping a container of whipped potatoes from rolling off the edge of the table. He handed it to her, and she positioned it on top as the point of the pyramid.

She frowned. "Of course not."

"Why not?" he asked, faintly miffed and a little depressed.

"Because," she said childishly, the pause between this word and the next indicating her desire to leave it at that. "I don't want you there with me."

"But – ."

"Syuichirou," she said firmly and opened a can of baby food from the corner of her display. "One of the worst things that'll ever happen in a person's life is to lose someone they love. It's terribly emotional, and very humiliating."

She smiled at him.

"What can I say? I'm a proud person."

Stirring the food with a plastic spoon, she headed towards the living room.

"But I think you are, too."

He frowned at this statement, but when he turned to follow her out, his eyes met the profile of a red and white uniformed boy, with a baseball cap on top of his head.

Genichirou walked into the kitchen, and pulling out a stool from under the counter, he sat across from Oishi and replaced the corner of the pyramid with a can from the living room.

We're leaving here tonight.
There's no need to tell anyone,
They'd only hold us down.

Niou was in a particularly frisky mood at tennis practice that day. By frisky, it meant that his playing was, at best, half-hearted, and the white-haired boy focused more on trying to grope his unruffled doubles partner than in crushing the Marui-Jackal combination playing against them.

"Niou, we're in the middle of a game," Yagyuu told him calmly while brushing Niou's straying hand away from his neck. "Behave yourself."

"That's not what you said to me last night," Niou joked crudely, and he let a ball sail past him, only to have it returned by Yagyuu. "Who cares? Everyone knows we're going to win."

"Cut it with the attitude," Sanada snapped. Unfortunately for him, his glare of doom only seemed to provoke Niou more. "Fifty laps after practice."

Renji raised an eyebrow at him as he headed over from where he'd defeated another third year. "Only fifty? You used to give out a hundred for pranks smaller than that."

"I'm feeling generous today," Sanada grunted. "Don't undermine my authority."

Directly after he finished speaking, shrieking voices erupted from on the court, Marui shouting angrily at the smug Niou. "You did that on purpose!"

"Well, I have to give you guys some semblance of winning," said Niou, shrugging. "It was just luck your face was that close to the net."

"Asshole!"

"Loser."

"Bitch!"

"Fuck you."

Sanada's eyebrow twitched.

"Ah, Genichirou," Renji placated with his usual impeccable timing. "Did you know your cell phone's ringing?"

He snatched it away from the outstretched hand angrily, flipping open the metal top so harshly that it was a miracle it didn't break, and punched the button irately. "What is it?"

Syuichirou's voice floated through the cell phone, soft and dim, and Sanada immediately regretted his inhospitable greeting. "Genichirou?"

Something was off. Syuichirou sounded wispy, his voice not all there, and hesitant – or was that terse? – and very un-Syuichirou like. It made the alarm bells in his head ring wildly and the distinctive protective instinct that almost purely revolved around Syuichirou flare up suddenly.

"What's wrong?" he demanded.

"It's…nothing."

"Please tell me, Syuichirou," he said, worry gnawing unexpectedly in his stomach. Seigaku's fukubuchou took that moment to pause, and for a while, Sanada feared that he had hung up.

When Syuichirou finally answered, he strained to catch the words spoken. "Could you…meet me? Now? I know you're at practice, but…"

He trailed off at the end, but Sanada didn't have to read minds to know what he was thinking. Sanada never canceled practices, not even on the day when a thunderstorm struck early in the afternoon, the courts flooded with water and the regulars all insisting that the large tree by the front of the school had been hit with lightning. It was practically engraved on his forehead that tennis overcame life-threatening weather conditions on any occasion.

But this time was a completely different affair, missing the unseen boundaries that they'd unwittingly set up when they first met, and this was the first instance in which Syuichirou called him at practice.

"Where are you?"

So by the morning's light,
We'll be halfway to anywhere,
Where love is more than just your name.

They stood side by side in the middle of the night, the reflective marble surface before them mirroring their faces in a timeless sort of parody. The cap that usually adorned Sanada's head hid in the bag hanging from the boy's shoulder. Appropriately, it was windy and slightly rainy, and even more fittingly, they shared a large black umbrella under its onslaught.

"Is this okay?"

The taller boy asked the question, and the other bent down under the shelter of black fabric. The letter he picked up was dry to the touch and indicated that a person had visited recently, no more than half an hour before they arrived.

He brushed a few stray strands of grass away from the decorative seal of the envelope and blew on it gently.

"Make a wish, Genichirou."

And he tore it, the cream colored envelope housing the delicately designed card and the more elaborate words, into the tiniest pieces possible, and held it in his hand for the wind to blow it wherever it pleased.

They remained there, watching the rain pour down harder and the letter addressed with the three most minor of words float away with the wind.

Dear My Love