Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis or any of its characters. Yes, we all weep for me.

Author's Notes: Last chapter I'm posting today. Hope you like! I'll give a cyber cookie to anyone who can figure out what all the colored cranes mean.(Sorry, dear sister, you're disqualified. Nya.)

Speaking of which, huge kudos and thanks to my sister for editing this and encouraging me always. hugs I love my editor. (Shameless plug: Everyone, go read her fanfic! It is 100x better than any of mine and it's epic! It's called "When I Come Back to You" by FallingSilver. Go read. Now!)

I actually have cranes in all the colors I listed sitting on my shelf. I love making cranes. I don't think I could ever make 1000, though, but I've been tempted to try. In my lifetime, I'm pretty sure I've made less than 200. Right now though, I have paper cranes all over my desk. I make some every time I get stuck while I'm writing this fic. XD

Anyways... Enjoy!

For his entire junior high career, Inui still decided to train towards his goal. Even if he couldn't be the best at Seigaku, he could at least be the best he could be.

Towards the end of his second year, when most of his data on the second- and third-years seemed stagnant and unimportant, Inui began taking notes on the freshmen. There were a lot of them, but only a few seemed to be of any interest. Two, in particular.

Momoshiro Takeshi was certainly passionate about his game. But that seemed to be all he was. As far as Inui could tell, Momo took part in no training beyond a few mile-long runs on rare mornings, and maybe some light weight-lifting at home. This was fine, since his body was in its most fragile development stages. But Momo played the game mostly for fun. And he was lucky enough to be gifted with great jumping ability and the smarts to analyze his opponent somewhat.

The dedication wasn't quite there.

But the other boy…

Kaidoh Kaoru.

"The Frightening Freshman," as his fellow second-years called him, baffled Inui to no end. As far as he could tell, Kaidoh was up every morning before the crack of dawn running several miles every day. And after school? Sometimes he ran distances equal to a marathon. This was, of course, after he'd stayed late at practice picking up balls or practicing his swing. In addition to that, Inui calculated Kaidoh's muscle growth and concluded that he did at least a half-hour of weight lifting every day at home.

Sure, the kid wasn't that smart about his training. He was undoubtedly doing some measure of damage on his developing body. Really, boys shouldn't lift weights until they're a good ways through puberty. And Kaidoh was probably losing sleep to make room for his running schedule, or else there was simply no time to fit everything in. There was no way that such a schedule could be healthy.

But Inui felt strangely drawn to this person.

What was it about Kaidoh that sparked Inui's interest? Why couldn't he keep his eyes off the freshman? It wasn't his impressive spin shots, quite… It wasn't his unusual appearance or quirky habits…

So what was it?

Inui found the answer one day while watching Kaidoh play a mock match against Momoshiro towards the end of that year. It was a heated contest. The rivals were evenly matched in skill (at a level impressive for freshmen), and neither side relented. As usual for these two, various insults and challenges were shouted across the court. Inui hardly paid attention, but continued taking notes on the players' shots.

"Give up Viper! You can't beat me!" Momo hit the ball towards the corner.

"I won't lose to the likes of you!" Kaidoh just barely lobbed it back.

"Stupid Viper! I'm going to be the best in Japan." Momo rushed up to the net, jumped, and hit a smash.

"But I'm going to be the best in the WORLD!" Kaidoh dove for the ball and made an impressive passing shot, silencing his loquacious opponent.

Inui nearly dropped his pencil.

Recovering from his bewilderment, Momoshiro threw down his racket and yelled, "LUCK! Dumb luck. Stupid Viper, you play dirty!"

Momo's ramblings faded to insignificance in Inui's mind. He stared as Kaidoh slowly got up and brushed the dirt off of his gym clothes and legs.

So that was it.

Inui couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it before. It was so obvious, so easy to explain.

Kaidoh Kaoru was exactly like him.

In Kaidoh, Inui saw every bit of passion for being the best that he himself had lost, if not more. Kaidoh would be the best someday, if he had anything to do with it. He was going to take every risk, conquer every obstacle, and do everything in his power to be great. He was going to surpass his own limits, if he had to.

And Inui wanted that.

He wished that he could talk to Kaidoh and tell him all of this. But that was impossible. Maybe though, someday soon, he could help him. He could teach Kaidoh exactly what he needed to do to be the best.

But that would, once again, require talking to Kaidoh. And right now, that just wasn't possible.

The opportunity came much later, in spring of the next year in fact. And it was one of those horrible situations where something good comes out of something bad. Inui experienced the hardest and most humiliating defeat of his life, in his match against the new freshman, Echizen Ryoma. It turned out, as Inui knew from the match itself, that this new addition to the regulars was practically unbeatable. But no one assumed that right away when they heard that Inui lost. They just thought that the match proved that "data tennis" wasn't a good strategy, after all.

No one knew it, but Inui was on the verge of quitting the team. Which was why he was a bit perplexed when Tezuka called him into the coach's office. Did Tezuka and Ryuzaki-sensei already know that he was thinking about leaving the club? Were they going to try to talk him out of it?

Inui walked in the door and stood stiffly in front of the two people in charge of the tennis club. Ryuzaki smilingly told him to sit down.

"Tezuka-kun has made an interesting proposal."

Inui pushed his glasses higher onto his nose, trying to mirror the stoic image on the tennis captain's face. "Proposal?" he repeated.

To his surprise, it was Tezuka, who rarely spoke at all, that launched into the explanation. "I understand that you've suffered a hard defeat this year. To put so much work into something, only to have it taken away by someone who seems like he's barely trying, it's… well, I can't imagine how disappointing that would be." Tezuka pushed up his glasses, crossed his arms, and leaned against the desk. "We were all surprised to discover that you had been eliminated." Here, the coach cleared her throat and looked meaningfully at Tezuka. "Well, most of us were surprised," he added reluctantly.

It was at this point Inui realized that this had very possibly been a set-up. Tezuka had placed Ryoma in that bracket expecting him to win, which would mean that he had chosen the person who was to lose. Had Tezuka chosen him to be the guinea pig, the unfortunate sacrifice that had to be made?

Inui stirred in his chair and was about to say something (he wasn't sure what), when Tezuka continued, "Your contribution to our team is practically indispensable. It would be a sorry thing to lose you and your skills completely."

Inui wondered once again if Tezuka knew what he was thinking. He started trying to mentally develop a few excuses for quitting, but that was quickly cut short by what the captain said next.

"Instead, I have decided to name you as team manager. Provided that you'll accept, of course."

Inui couldn't believe his ears. Manager? Is that what he said? That would be wonderful! As manager, he could help everyone develop their skills properly. He did some quick calculations in his head. In three months, by exponentially increasing the endurance and technical training, he could make the team ready for—

Here, Inui realized that his mouth was hanging slightly open. He closed it, cleared his mind and throat, and said solemnly, "Of course I accept. I'll get working on a training menu right away."

Ryuzaki-sensei smiled and nodded. "In that case, you're excused from practice."

Inui stood and bowed, saying quickly before he left, "I won't disappoint you." And he walked out with a great measure of poise. But inside, he felt like a little boy on Christmas morning.

Once he was at home, he immediately set to work. He developed a logical requirement for running laps, and determined how much running the team would do each day for the next two months. He made up a few exercises to improve shot accuracy and reaction time. After all of his work, he leaned back into his chair.

"Let's see… what else."

While he was thinking, he picked up a black square of paper from the pile on the corner of his desk, and began folding. Why he did this, he wasn't certain. He hadn't folded a crane in a long time. He felt, in a way, that his wish, his reason for folding the cranes, had died. But it wasn't such a horrible thing after all. Yes, this was what he wanted to be doing, at least for now. Managing. Training.

Helping.

Perhaps the folding was just a habit.

He looked at the finished product, fingering it lightly. Then he set it aside and made a tally mark on a two-year-old piece of paper.

79.3 percent finished.

Before throwing it into the usual box, he stared at it a little longer, then picked it up by the tail.

This might be one of my best, he mused. Clean lines, crisp folds, and none of the underside showing through.

He held it up to the light.

I never would have guessed that a black crane would look so nice.

Completely forgetting his assigned task, Inui grabbed a gold, foil square and began folding. The crane came out somewhat messy. Inui tried again in silver. Even worse. He made two tallies and threw them into the box with disgust.

He folded cranes in a few more different colors. The blue one came out better than the gold and silver, but still looked a little sloppy. He didn't care for the red one, either, though it was an improvement. The white, purple, and green cranes were okay, but still not perfect.

Inui slipped his hand in the middle of the paper pile and pulled out another black square. He folded this one with sure hands. And like the last one of that color, it turned out perfectly. After admiring it, he made a few more tallies.

80.1 percent finished. Into the box you all go.

He looked back at his computer screen, remembering his duties as the new manager. He had some things to prepare. After checking his watch and deciding that the store would still be open, he grabbed some of his allowance and left the house to pick up a few things.

…

Inui had a successful first day as manager. He'd begun the training as planned, and the team did well with it, as expected. And now every last one of them feared his specially-concocted juice that he'd prepared the night before. Yes, Inui's term as manager was going to be very productive.

Among the bustle in the locker room, Inui looked with some regret at his folded jersey. He'd lost the right to wear it, but he was forced to keep it, and see it every day. Obviously no one else could wear a jersey with Inui's name on it. It would be too big for anyone else, in any case. Treating the garment with due reverence, Inui tucked it into his tennis bag. Then he finished packing his training devices.

By the time Inui was done and ready to leave, there were only two people left in the locker room: Echizen and Kaidoh, and the freshman was on his way out. Inui noticed that Kaidoh watched him leave. And then, with a soft hiss, the second-year zipped up his bag and headed towards the door.

It was obvious that Kaidoh wasn't too fond of Echizen, after he'd been beaten by him. Inui felt once again that he could relate completely. It seemed even ironic to Inui that he and Kaidoh were the only two regulars to have played Echizen in the tournament, and they had both lost. Surely, Kaidoh could understand how Inui felt about losing… Inui knew, at least, that he could understand Kaidoh. They'd both put so much effort into their training, only to lose, as Tezuka said…

On an impulse, Inui quickly grabbed his notebook and went after Kaidoh.

He didn't have to go very far. Kaidoh had stopped in front of the tennis courts briefly to look, maybe reflect. Kaidoh had a habit of giving himself a mental beating after every loss… Inui heard himself say his name. Kaidoh turned around.

"What?"

Conveniently, Inui realized now that he hadn't planned what he would say. He clutched his notebook a little more tightly and thought fast.

"Are you upset… that you lost?"

Kaidoh didn't say anything for a moment, but at least he didn't get angry. He turned back to the court and replied simply, "If a little kid is going to make me lose my stamina so fast, I'll just have to train harder." He started to walk away.

"You want to acquire endurance that's unbeatable?"

Kaidoh stopped dead in his tracks and waited for his senpai to continue.

"Hmm." Inui flipped to a certain page in his notebook. "Want to try this program?"

He held it up for Kaidoh to see. The second-year turned around and quickly looked it over. Then he looked his senpai straight in the eye and said, "I'll do twice that."

Inui stood still for a moment, not certain what to say to that. So instead, he wrote the new training program out on an empty page in his notebook, ripped it out, and gave it to Kaidoh. Then, heading back to the locker room, he said nonchalantly, "See you tomorrow at practice."

Once back in the safety of the clubhouse, Inui leaned against the door and pushed up his glasses. Kaidoh had not even asked why Inui had had a program all ready for him.