I carefully printed another name into a box for division A, recapping the pen as I scanned through the entire page again. Discreetly, I flexed my hand, which was slightly cramping after completing most of the pre-season paperwork.

Before me laid an entire list of names—almost fifty hopefuls trying out for the Seigaku tennis club. Another stack besides it consisted of hasty, last minute notes (courtesy of Kikumaru losing my original ones) for some of the more notable players, and a third stack besides that, the mostly completed charts for tryout divisions.

Except for one problem.

"I say you give him a chance, Tezuka," Oishi said, perched on the desk besides mine. "You saw him yourself—I think his level is enough to be on-par with most of the regulars. That's extremely rare for just a first year…"

"The question is whether he is mature enough to handle the responsibilities with becoming a regular," I said straight-forwardly, slowly straightening up from my writing position.

Ryuzaki-sensei chuckled from where she sat, and Oishi and I turned to look at her. She was smiling knowingly to herself and shifting through some papers.

"Must run in the family. I gave Ryoma's father twenty years to grow up, and the idiot still hasn't managed to do it." She shook her head a little, but was still smiling.

"You know Echizen's father?" Oishi asked curiously. Ryuzaki-sensei didn't say anything, but looked up at me, her voice more serious.

"Don't overthink it, Tezuka. Understand what this team needs and go with your instinct."

I lowered my gaze once again at the last empty box for division D, a knot of something akin to frustration settling in my gut. How could I know whether or not to trust my instincts?

I glanced out the room's windows into a pink and lavender sky, wispy orange clouds suspended dreamily in midair. I remembered that I had a test on the nitrogen cycle tomorrow.

"Ryuzaki-sensei?" I asked, turning back to the chart.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think Echizen should be allowed to try out?" If she told me yes, then that settled the matter; if she didn't…

Ryuzaki-sensei set down her pen and studied me for a second. Then, slowly, she broke into a small, shrewd smile.

"That's for the captain to decide." Her eyes flashed towards Oishi before standing up with a scrape of her chair, picking up the stack of papers she had been working on. "Well, I've got to head home now, will you boys be alright?"

"Actually…" Oishi started, looking at me guiltily. "I'm sorry, Tezuka, but I have to be home too…unless you really need me here…"

I shook my head and stood up. Perhaps I could think through this more clearly if I was alone.

"I will be fine, thank you for staying this long. I will see you tomorrow, Ryuzaki-sensei, Oishi." I bowed slightly towards them, and Oishi returned it, smiling.

"Don't stay too late, Tezuka."

The door smoothly slid closed behind them, and a tranquil silence filled the room.

I sat back down, reaching towards the pile of notes to pick up Echizen's again. Every time my thoughts fell on him, I couldn't help but remember back, to two years ago.

When I was just like him.

I remembered the anticipation, the tight nervousness that raced through my body, which I had to contain myself not to show. I remembered how everyone whispered and doubted about me, unwilling to accept my age and my abilities.

So now we've come full circle.

I had almost left the tennis team my first year, so disgusted and tired at the unfairness with which I had been treated. And now, it dawned onto me that I was really debating with myself about the same thing. So many times over the course of the past few years, I had wondered: If I was Yamato-buchou then, would I have given myself that chance? Would I have done what he did, so readily accepted and acknowledged? Could I?

Here was my chance for an answer.

I thought about what Ryuzaki-sensei had just told me:

"Understand what this team needs and go with your instinct."

What this team needs—what we need to win Nationals.

Determination. Willpower. Teamwork. Sacrifice.

But I didn't have the time to examine Echizen and see if he had all these qualities. I had to decide now.

"…go with your instinct."

Was instinct what this had to come down to? But then again, what else was I left with? I had tried analyzing, logically weighing the consequences if this backfired somehow, making list after list in my head…

"The chosen regulars will probably be the ones to play in the Kanto Tournament…"

"Oishi-kun, let's definitely lead Seigaku to the Nationals in our time!"

Nationals.

I replayed my memories of Echizen: his form, playing style, attitude, and what little I knew of his personality.

And all of a sudden, I was twelve again, and it was that year just before official tennis tryouts began…

I was about to turn a corner around the school building when I heard a person's voice on the other side.

"…that little first year isn't much a chatterbox." I couldn't tell who was talking.

"He talks enough to call out the score…and isn't that enough?" I recognized this as Yamato-buchou's voice, and the realization that they were talking about me sent a shudder up my spine.

"Yeah, well, it's making Sugiyama and Kato as pissed off as my chem teacher, that time he found out we were drinking coffee out of crucibles…and what about you? You're usually always so gung-ho about teamwork…"

There was a little silence before a reply came from the captain.

"Wouldn't you much rather have a person who works than talks? And I am appalled that you wouldn't know any better than to drink out of potentially toxic equipment, if I was your teacher I would have given you dete—"

"That's besides the point, buchou!" the other person sighed. "And don't try to change the subject! What makes you so sure Tezuka's got it in him?"

"I can see it." There were a few seconds of expectant silence, and then another exasperated sigh as the captain did not elaborate.

"But how do you know?"

"It's there," Yamato-buchou mused matter-of-factly. "Instinct, my dear friend."

I picked up the pen again and held down the chart with one hand. On the very last box, the only one that was still missing, I printed his name.

越前 リョーマ

"I want you to become Seigaku's pillar of support."

I pushed the paper away and set the pen back down.

Thanks, buchou.

Um, if you haven't figured it out already, the Japanese means "Echizen Ryoma"

I always figured Tezuka actually had a heart somewhere in him, not just the dusty lump of coal his personality would have you believe... ^.^"

Review please!