Date: August 3, 2011
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Chapter 3
"Can I borrow your glasses?"
"Excuse me?" Oshitari blinked.
"Could you not hear me the first time?" Atobe replied, not sure whether to be feeling concerned over his friend's hearing impairment or feeling irritated at the fact that he had to repeat himself... No, he was definitely more irritated.
"Can I borrow your glasses? They're non-prescription anyways right?" Atobe wondered offhandedly.
Oshitari nodded handing his spectacles over with a small frown covering his face.
Atobe tried them on and waited...
... "I don't feel any different."
"Are you supposed to?" His navy haired teammate wondered.
"Well, why do you wear them even though you have perfect 20/20 vision?" Atobe pondered, as he adjusted the circular glasses on the bridge of his nose. Maybe he's just wearing them wrong?
Oshitari let a smirk make its way onto his face, "Cause I look damn good."
"... You do?" Atobe arched a brow as he adjusted the glasses once more. Hm... Yup, still not feeling anything out of the ordinary.
Oshitari let out a sigh of frustration, "Why the sudden curiosity?"
"I was just thinking..." Atobe shrugged, removing the glasses and handing them back to their owner.
"About?" Oshitari prodded.
"Hm..." Atobe twisted his lips as though deeply in thought.
"Atobe?" Oshitari snapped his fingers in attempt to get the other's attention.
"Ew. Just please don't Oshitari. Just don't." Atobe held out his hand in disgust. Seriously now... One could easily mistake his teammate's rather rude behaviour as something out of Rikkaidai. An absolute disgrace to the Hyotei name...
"Atobe, why the sudden curiosity in my glasses?" Oshitari repeated with slight aggravation written in his voice.
"I was just thinking... Maybe Tezuka's attraction comes from his glasses." Atobe disclosed.
"The Tezuka Zone? We're still talking about tennis right?" Oshitari asked.
"Yea, tennis. Whatever." Atobe brushed off the other's question, "Maybe... Do you think it's his hair then? How much modelling clay do you think he uses in his hair to get that windswept look? Because I know for certain he didn't wake up in the morning looking like that."
"... Wait... What does hairstyle have to do with tennis?" Oshitari blinked, not really following the conversation.
"Everything." Atobe practically growled... and not because he woke up this morning with the worst bed head experience of his lifetime. After all, as an Atobe it was impossible to wake up to messy hair... according to his mother and she was always right about these kinds of things. Regardless, that catastrophe was over and done with after a good half hour spent with his on call hairdresser.
"... Or maybe it's his personality. Did you ever consider that the tennis ball gravitates towards him because of his silent but handsomely strong personality?" Oshitari questioned.
Atobe took a moment to consider his teammate's words... Personality?
"Back to the hair. That's no way natural right?" Atobe brought the conversation back to what really mattered. But seriously... It just wasn't in his genes to get terrible bed head. Unless... Was his bed head a sign? A bad omen perhaps? ... Maybe he should reschedule the practice match against Seishun Gakuen's tennis team...
"I don't think Tezuka's the kind of guy who'll spend time in the morning standing in front of a mirror fixing his hair. Much less touch any kind of hair mousse, gel or pomade." Oshitari replied honestly.
"You're such a bitch at times." Atobe grumbled, "You're my friend. You're supposed to be supporting me instead of that gravity defying freak."
"What's there to compliment? Other than the fact that you have bed head." Oshitari pointed out.
Atobe gasped.
"So what? We all have bad hair days." Oshitari shrugged, "And if hairstyle did matter in the realm of tennis, wouldn't Seigaku's vice captain be the greatest tennis player in the universe? I mean, with that egg shaped head of his, he may be the most aerodynamic person I know. Well, we are still talking about tennis... right?"
"I wonder..."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Oshitari questioned.
"I'm going to cancel our practice match against Seishun Gakuen." Atobe informed seriously.
"What? Why?" Oshitari blinked, "Is this because of your messy hair and your failed attempt at fixing it?"
"No." Atobe replied sarcastically. Was Oshitari even being serious?
"They're here." Shishidou informed while walking by, towards the arriving coach bus.
Dammit too late.
... Although, he could still send them back to their junkyard they call a school... But then again, where would his manners be?
"I have molding cream in my locker." Oshitari enlightened.
"That pomegranate one?" Atobe recalled.
"No strawberries." Oshitari took the opportunity to be the sarcastic one, "Of course it's pomegranate. You know that new craze for everything pomegranate. By far the hardest thing to eat."
"Seriously Oshitari. I'm going to be blunt with you because I'm your only decent friend-"
"Uh... Gakuto? Shishidou?" The navy haired teen began to list.
"Did you not hear the 'decent' part?" Atobe arched his brow, "You have bad attitude suitable to Rikkaidai. If you keep this up, you're going to lose all your friends... even though most of them aren't much of a loss."
"Then I'll just transfer to Rikkaidai." Oshitari shrugged like transferring to that dirty hell hole was just another day at the beach.
"Don't you dare joke around about something like that. Ungrateful." Atobe christened, "That's what you are. Ungrateful."
"Right..." Oshitari rolled his eyes, as they joined the rest of their team in welcoming their rivals.
"What were you ladies chatting about?" Shishidou muttered.
"Shishidou, I don't have the patience to deal with whatever drama is going on in your life at the moment." Atobe crossed his arms, as they lined up outside of a rather tacky (most likely flea infested) coach bus.
"Yea! I can't wait to rip a new a-hole on that wannabe redhead." Mukahi announced smugly, "I bet he dyes his hair. Do you think a red like that is natural? If you ask me, it's fucking ugly like a pile of bloody diarr-"
"Be nice." Oshitari chided lightly and thankfully interrupted the redhead on their team.
"I'll try, but that guy always brings out the worse in me." Mukahi sighed, "Like, who does he think he is trying to steal my tennis moves? And he's just sooo annoying. All he ever does is hang off that guy with the weird shaped head or Atobe's little fuck toy and makes those weird nya-nya cat noises. Like really? Does he think he's cute or something? For someone his age, that's fucking gross."
"Shut up!" Shishidou grumbled, "All you ever do is bitch and whine all the time."
"Says the guy who went all suicidal for the longest time before deciding to butcher off his hair with safety scissors." The redhead retorted.
"Shut up both of you with your petty problems no one cares about." Atobe ordered, as the Seigaku tennis team began to step off their bus... Fucking Tezuka and his perfect hair.
"Keigo muffin!"
Atobe could spot the petite honey haired brunet as he climbed off that tacky looking coach bus... Poor thing had to ride in that. Regardless, he opened his arms up as the most likely now covered in fleas from that shady bus brunet ran towards him.
"I missed you!" Fuji informed sweetly.
"I missed you more." Atobe replied in kind, as he swung Seigaku's tensai around in his arms.
"Get a room." Mukahi muttered in disgust.
"What did I say earlier?" Atobe couldn't help but glare at his best friend's lover... There was just something about that redhead that just irritated him.
"Lips are sealed." Mukahi replied sarcastically.
... It was probably the redhead's entirety.
"Thank you again for having us." Tezuka offered him a nod of greeting.
"Of course." Atobe returned the nod before shining a charming grin down at the honey haired brunet in his arms, "Anything to spend more time with my cupcake."
"Oh you!" Fuji giggled, "You're always so sweet!"
"I can't believe I vomited in my mouth again!" Annoying thing that he recently learned has a name (Momo or some kind of fruit) broadcasted.
"Mada mada dane."
Fuji Shusuke wiped away the small beads of sweat on his forehead as he took a seat next to his best friend on one of these strangely comfortable couches that littered the Hyotei tennis courts... He vaguely wondered what they would do if a storm suddenly hit... Did they have servants at Hyotei who would just stand over the couches with umbrellas? ... No, they would most likely replace all of them... impractical.
"Here." Kikumaru passed him a water bottle.
"Thank you Eiji." Fuji replied gratefully.
"Good job tearing a new a-hole on that fake redhead." Kikumaru grinned.
"I was hoping for more of a competition. You did pretty well yourself against Shishidou." Fuji replied.
"Not that well, I still really need to work on my endurance... Oh! Look at poor Ochibi against that big guy." Kikumaru laughed. Fuji took the opportunity to look over at their underclassman, as he struggled against the larger teen that seemed to mimic all his moves.
"I hope he doesn't get hurt... Although it looks like Kabaji-kun is playing more softly than he usually does." Fuji shrugged turning his attention back onto the set of courts in front of him. He could spot the Hyotei captain warming up for his practice match against their captain.
"We need to bring one of these couches back with us." The redhead announced, leaning back into the padded cushioning.
"I'll ask Keigo." Fuji murmured offhandedly... There was something about the Hyotei captain that just bothered him... And it wasn't the whole clothing situation. Sometime after he invited the Hyotei captain over to his place (and oh god was it awkward), the dark haired teenager started to dress differently. His boyfriend (until Tezuka comes crawling back) claimed that he felt like trying a different style, mentioned something about dinosaurs, and that was that. So what could it be?
"Think they have ice cream machines here too?" Kikumaru wondered.
"Eiji, does something look a little off with Keigo? ... I mean, other than his bed head?" Fuji pointed out. He just couldn't put his finger on it. Because really... If it wasn't the clothes, what could it be?
"Nope." Kikumaru shrugged, "Oh... They're starting. Check out Inui over there. They haven't even served the first ball yet and he's already scribbling stuff down. What a creepy guy..."
Fuji rested his head against his best friend's shoulder. He watched as his captain served the first ball and went into their first rally... and a thought just occurred to him. What would happen if Atobe actually won? He assumed that Atobe only agreed to go out with him in order to throw Tezuka off his game... So what would happen then? ... And he could feel an uneasy feeling growing at the pit of his stomach... What if Atobe breaks up with him? Instead of realizing that he lost because of lack of concentration because his ex is dating the guy standing on the other side of the net, what if Tezuka takes his loss as a challenge to focus more on tennis? And in that situation, it's not like he had Atobe to rely on anymore...
... And he found himself hoping Tezuka would win for more reasons besides the fact that they were on the same team.
"Buchou's in good form." Kikumaru pointed out.
Fuji darted his eyes towards their captain, and realized that ever since the match started, he hadn't once spared the love of his life a glance since the first serve. Oh... zero-shiki drop... First set goes to Tezuka... He darted his eyes back to the Hyotei captain. To where Atobe stood with that strange stillness... And that wasn't the strangest part. He brought his hand up to his face to cover a small smile that had made its way onto his face. Because knowing Atobe, the Hyotei captain was probably too preoccupied worrying about that obvious hair malfunction than the fact that Tezuka won the first set. Arg! Why was this so pleasantly amusing?
"Hey Eiji?"
"Yea?" The redhead blinked, turning his eyes momentarily away from the match to stare at his best friend.
"Keigo..." Fuji began slowly, "... He's pretty handsome... right?"
"... Huh?"
"When he plays tennis... He's just incredibly... handsome." Fuji observed.
"... Unya?"
"To be honest, he isn't a bad guy. He's pretty funny once you really get to know him." Fuji confessed.
Kikumaru remained silent.
"I wonder... What could it be?" Fuji pouted in thought.
"You tell me. After you mentioned the bed head, that's all I'm seeing." Kikumaru shrugged, not really following this conversation.
"His game's a little off." Fuji pointed out.
"A bad hair day. I don't blame him. You know, hairstyle is really important when playing tennis. Think about it: It's only the redheads and wannabe redheads doing all the acrobatics. Like me, Marui-chan and that stalker Mucky." Kikumaru informed.
"I know that." Fuji continued to pout, "But it's not the hair. He's been acting a little strange these past few days."
"A bad thing?" Kikumaru pondered.
"No." Fuji shrugged, "For one, he's not an eyesore anymore. He's just... more endearing?"
"Ew?"
"I think it's the lack of purple these past few days... But it's like I'm starting to notice a few things about him..." Fuji hummed, still deep in thought, "He's not as bad as I previously thought. Don't get me wrong, he has his faults but it's not like anyone can be perfect."
"Didn't you once say Tezuka was perfect?" Kikumaru recalled.
"Oh... I did say that." Fuji muttered thoughtfully while bringing his knees up to his chest, "Yes... Tezuka's perfect..."
"Too perfect." Kikumaru eyed their captain warily, "... Like a robot."
"... Eiji, maybe being perfect isn't everything." Fuji elaborated, "Having these little imperfections is kind of... charming."
"You think?" The redhead arched a brow.
"I wonder..."
A long whistle snapped them both out of their conversation. Darting his eyes towards the tennis court he could see a racquet lying on the pavement... and Tezuka standing over it clutching his arm...
And it felt like time stopped.
What happened next was a flurry of movement. It was like he was having an out of body experience, as he watched from somewhere up top as his body moved on its own. As he jumped onto his feet and ran into the tennis court towards where his captain stood... The way his eyes zeroed in to where Tezuka held his left arm in a tight grip, noting how unnaturally white the skin by his elbow was and how it was starting to show signs of swelling... and at some point he realized he was holding in his breath. And he just couldn't remember how to breathe, especially so as his eyes locked with bronze ones...
... And his own azure eyes widened as that profound gaze bore into him. Speaking to him in a language only they knew and communicated through their gazes alone...
Tezuka wouldn't be able to continue the match.
To be continued.
Thank you for reading this chapter and please review! :3
