Title: The Element of Surprises.
Characters: Kirihara, Niou, Marui, Yanagi, Yukimura, OCs.
Notes: If anyone's wondering, there won't be much tennis action until we get nearer the Prefectural Tournament (for Seigaku, Hyoutei, and Fudomine, specifically) and the Kantou tournament (of course!) where the real fight begins. Perhaps some unofficial ones - street courts, friendly games, and all that jazz - will come into play, but only when I get the muse for them. I originally wrote this story without the thought of putting tennis into play - I only wanted to write about the characters and their personalities and dynamics with each other off the court and whatnot, but this story grew to a bigger project than I expected.
Nonetheless, this chapter marks the beginning of the real plot of the story, which, as stated in the summary, is how our main characters deal with the trials of being new captains, with new teams, and a new legacy to build all on their own, with and without the support of those who went before them. This is where I can show you guys the type of leaders I think our main characters are going to be like and I'm really, really excited for it.
Now, off-topic — Since I've been focusing on only a handful of schools, I want to know which schools — or which characters — you guys want to see in the story in the future. I won't necessarily put all of them, because sadly my muse can only handle so much, but I will most certainly try.
——
"The district preliminaries start a week from now," Masato says lightly, his eyes glancing at Kirihara's hunched form over the table setting up their line-up for the competition, and the classroom window of their usual spot. The tennis club is going about its business as usual while the captain and vice-captain brainstorm for the upcoming tournament (or, in any case, Masato likes to think that they are collaborating ideas while Kirihara merely wills for him to go away and leave him in peace, since he is undoubtedly doing anything but helping him), under Kaede's stern watch.
Because for all his lackadaisical outlook on life, Torii Kaede is a fearsome person, whose compassion and ability to lead might have cost Kirihara his captaincy if Yukimura didn't deem him to be the better choice, but these are things that are never mentioned, and only looked up with thoughtfulness, and neither has ever bothered to ask the other about what might have been.
For his part, Kirihara might have followed Kaede without question, if he didn't badly want the position himself. It's something that Masato often points out when they talk about the other guy in private, because it's practically an acquired habit to push Kirihara's buttons now.
You wouldn't have a single complaint about the way he would run things, he would say, in such a matter-of-fact tone, because Kaede will make sure you of all people are satisfied with what you expect out of him. He thinks very highly of you.
"Great," Kirihara says, albeit distractedly, with his nose so close to the desk. "More dummies to practice with before the Nationals."
"Try not to degrade the other schools too much," Masato replies, amused. He pulls the nearest desk to him and sits on it, with one of his feet propped up to rest on the window sill. "Who knows if they've found themselves a super rookie and outsmarts you?"
Just for that, Kirihara rolls his eyes. "If they have one, we would know it."
He has no doubt that any interesting news from the other schools would have reached Rikkai's gossip circle in a matter of seconds, for they are unappealingly notorious. But they have their uses, and Kirihara has the fortune (or misfortune, depending on how you look at it, and the kind of mood he's in) of being friends and classmates with quite a number of them. If anything, Kirihara is thankful that they are loyal to their school, and that they haven't yet blurted out Rikkai's secrets even though they are out in the open for the whole world to just find.
Masato simply smiles. "Perhaps."
"You know what, fuck this, Urayama and Takaishi will play Doubles 2," Kirihara declares, after a few moments of silence, dropping his pen from his hands and crumpling the paper he's been writing on into a ball before throwing it in the trash can across the classroom. He misses. "You and Kaede will play Doubles 1."
"I knew you would do that," Masato comments mildly.
"I figured there's still room for improvement, however small," he says. Masato laughs loudly, irritatingly, but Kirihara ignores him. "Uoya for Singles 3," he continues further, listing names off the top of his head. "Honda for Singles 2. Ezakiya in Singles 1."
His vice-captain raises an eyebrow. "You won't play?"
"If I find that one of our opponents has a super rookie, I'll change the line-up," he replies drily, leaning back on his seat and resting his hands behind his head.
"But you won't, since they won't have any, and none of those schools will be able to hold a candle to Rikkai's strength, anyway, regardless of their line-up," says Masato matter-of-factly, and proudly, and Kirihara silently agrees. It's in one of these small moments where he sees the true extent of Masato's loyalty, he thinks, and it makes him believe that he didn't make a mistake in choosing him as vice-captain. "Uoya, Honda, and Ezakiya are doubles players."
"And your doubles combination with Kaede sucks," he retorts, but without the usual amount of venom. "But no one knows that yet."
"No, no one," says Masato thoughtfully. "Ezakiya and Takaishi were the only ones to compete in last year's newcomer's tournament. Ezakiya won." He doesn't mention the tough round he has had with Fudomine's new recruit during the semi-finals, and his almost loss had he not been able to see the opponent's weaknesses, because he knows exactly what Kirihara thinks of that. "And you alone have been handpicked for the newcomer's tournament in our year."
Kirihara appraises him. "You pay attention. I'm impressed."
And in any case, the former members of the team have always overshadowed the rest of them, barring Kirihara himself, when it comes to talent and performance. They both have noticed the considerable lack of scouts and spies searching the Rikkai grounds after their disappearance, but that is something to be thankful for, Kirihara know; not a single one of them will ever know what will hit them soon.
"I should be saying that to you." Masato shares a brief, toothy smile with Kirihara. "Saving our real strength for the Nationals, are you?"
"We'll see."
Masato hums in agreement. "So we will."
• • •
"How do you feel?"
Kirihara scowls at the question. He distinctly remembers that he's in Marui's house to relax and have a great time playing video games all night instead of doing his homework and worrying about tennis — not be probed about his feelings or whatever, and especially not by his happy-go-lucky senior, and especially not at this hour of the night, when no one else is awake but them.
What is the world coming to now?
"Why do you ask?" he asks wearily.
Marui raises a brow sharply. "Do I need a reason?"
"I wouldn't put it past you to have one."
Marui elbows him. "Don't be a brat."
"Ow!" He rubs his side, glaring. "That hurts!"
"You deserve it!"
"Have you ever thought that maybe he's actually worried?" says Niou idly, striding in the room quietly, carrying a bundle of snacks for them to munch on and drops then Marui's bed. He pays no heed at their childish antics, and drops himself on Marui's bed, sprawling his legs languidly on the soft mattress. Kirihara makes a face — and so does Marui, which Niou returns with a baleful look. "Don't look at me like that. You know you are."
"You can't prove it," Marui accuses him, and Niou merely pops a candy in his mouth, grinning triumphantly.
"It's not my first tournament," Kirihara drawls, rolling his eyes.
"It's your first one as captain," Marui points out.
He rolls his eyes. "I'll live."
He's not about to say that he's both excited and scared as fuck, that this is something he has always wished for, and now he gets to live out his dreams — or something to that effect, anyway. He's not really into waxing poetic.
"Well, you're handling it better than Yukimura did during his first months as captain, I'll give you that," says Niou lazily, making Marui snort with laughter. Kirihara turns to them, confused (and not without that slight pang of guilt at the mention of his former captain — an issue that he will have to address sooner or later, though preferably later, considering). "Yukimura was a wreck at the start. He looked like he didn't know what he was doing at all and was only going through the motions. Yanagi was already handling the Regular's regimen during our first-year because Yukimura didn't have the attention span for it, especially when we got closer to the Nationals."
"The guy was hopeless," says Marui, shaking his head slightly. "If you were there, you'd have known then and there that he lived and breathed tennis."
That is something Kirihara — as well as the rest of the world — already knows.
"I thought it was because Yanagi-sempai was better at handling stuff like that," Kirihara admits, somewhat ruefully.
"Well, that is true," Niou agrees, "but it wasn't the main reason."
"Just don't ask Sanada's opinion on it," Marui chimes in.
Kirihara's lips curl, remembering something vague that has been mentioned to him before. "Because they don't get along?"
"They get along well enough. They're the best of friends; there's no mistaking that. But they're too different, and that makes for a rocky relationship." Kirihara raises an eyebrow at him pointedly, to which Niou laughs. "Yagyuu and I found a common ground, aside from tennis, but it doesn't make things easier. It's not all sunshine and rainbows, kid. I bet the deal's the same with those two. They've found a few common grounds, and I guess that makes all the difference."
"Yukimura-buchou," Kirihara voices out, and Niou hums in agreement, pleased at Kirihara's correct assessment. "And tennis."
"And the team," Marui supplies, before blowing his bubblegum.
"And the team," Niou echoes.
Kirihara gives out a long sigh before pressing 'resume' on his controller.
"I feel fine," he says. "All I know is that I'm going to win." He pauses for a moment, and then corrects himself, his voice level. "My team is going to win."
Niou gives him a shrewd look, while Marui's eyes are set on the game, but neither says a thing, and Kirihara knows from experience that that's a good sign.
• • •
"It's a very smart strategy," Yanagi comments placidly, as Kirihara looks up at his plain, white ceiling blankly. One hand is resting behind his head while the other is holding his phone to his ear. If Yanagi thinks that Kirihara is crazy to be calling him at one o'clock in the morning if only to consult him regarding tennis matters, then he keeps it to himself as he indulges his junior. He's probably used to it, considering the king of person Yukimura is. And Sanada, too, if Kirihara can count him, though he's more of the impression that Sanada tends to suppress his moments of panic to himself instead of blurting everything out to the person closest to him. "You will find that some teams do this strategy often, but only a few can pull it off expertly."
"We'll manage," he replies. "My player's are all well-rounded, I think. They just need practice."
"Practice makes perfect," Yanagi preaches quietly.
Kirihara grins slightly. "Exactly."
"If your team plays excellently throughout the whole tournament, then everyone will be in for a surprise," Yanagi predicts, and Kirihara is thankful. "They will not expect that Rikkai still has some things under their sleeves. Most people assume that our winning streak as already disappeared after our last fight against Seigaku."
"Yeah, that's what I thought, too," he replies readily. "I want to prove them all wrong."
"So you will," Yanagi says solemnly. "Be careful, however. People may surprise you unexpectedly. The people you know most of all, specifically."
Kirihara represses a sigh. "Is that a good or a bad thing?"
"That would depend," Yanagi replies softly, "on the surprise, and the person involved. It may not always be who you assume it could be."
That, Kirihara thinks, is something that the entirety of Rikkai knows very, very well. He ponders at the thought for quite a while — and Yanagi lets him, of course; Kirihara hears the scratching of pen on paper from Yanagi's end — before he replies confidently, "I think we'll do just fine, sempai."
Though he can't see him, he can hear Yanagi's smile from the other side of the connection. "I can believe it, yes."
• • •
It turns out that they're more than just fine.
The new team has proven themselves to be of champion material, pouncing on all of their opponents and beating them to the ground (as is expected of Rikkai, of course). As invaluable as his strategy have been, his trust in them have solidified the fact that Kirihara Akaya, the ace of last year's Nationals runner-up team and Yukimura Seiichi's protégé, has no doubts regarding his team's strength over the other schools'. He has trusted them to do well without his help, just as Yukimura and Tezuka have trusted their own during their months of therapy and rehabilitation the past season, and Kirihara feels oddly accomplished upon realizing this.
He feels more than just pride.
When they arrived earlier that day, there have been tension in the air, and many have sought to challenge Rikkai's current team in order to gauge their abilities and, most importantly, their tempers. While Uoya has been the most explosive (being as hot-headed as he is, Kirihara isn't at all surprised) and has already made his fair share of enemies on and off the court, he has been forewarned enough by Masato that off-court fistfights and in-game "accidents" have been avoided, and Kirihara smiles to himself as his teammate takes his revenge on the court. He sits back and lets his player run loose during their games.
Kaede and Masato, too, have simply been lounging about before, during, and after their games, with Kaede making small, snide commentaries here and there to get a rise out of their opponents (which is, very unfortunately, though Kaede thinks otherwise, quite often), and Masato simply rolls his eyes occasionally. The rest of the team have slowly picked up on their listless energy and began seeing the district preliminaries as another extension of their practice, much to their opponents' chagrin.
The only one at odds (sort of, anyway) is Ezakiya.
"He's been placed in Singles 1, and that position is usually only covered by the most important players in that team, usually the captain or his vice, or their ace," says Masato pointedly, side-glancing at his captain as they watch the quarter-finals game of their Doubles 2 team. Rikkai is leading with a 4-0 score, and the other team has not even scored a single point. "Of course he would feel the pressure, seeing as he is neither the former two."
It's as Masato said. Expectations have been up high even before Ezakiya has stepped inside the court. Everyone has naturally (even his own team) assumed that Kirihara would take up the Singles 1 position, and have been surprised and intrigued and completely bewildered to find a scrawny second-year but his head half-ducked walking toward the net. Some might know him as the boy who won the newcomer's tournament, but only a few remember his face, let alone his name. He isn't a particularly interesting subject, as far as giants in the Rikkai go.
To his credit, of course, the second-year has yet to disappoint.
"And don't say he's your ace player," Kaede pipes in quietly. "We all know where you want him to be."
Yes, it's no secret to most of the team (and the school, for that matter) that Kirihara has been gearing him up to be one of four permanent doubles players in the team, rotating the regulars around in order to find him a good match. Ezakiya is mild-mannered and polite to a tee, reminding Kirihara a bit of Hyoutei's Ohtori, but there's explosiveness in his movements that shines whenever he plays, reminiscent of Kirihara's own flagrant style than anyone else's, and that in itself is what keeps Kirihara's eyes open and keen.
It is the soft core of his personality, however, that is the key to his game play as much as his strength and Kirihara has recognized it the moment he set his eyes on him. That Ezakiya connects more with feelings than logic makes him an excellent partner against someone who can be a bit more passionate on court, and he can learn more about his opponents based on how they play well together, and use their own dynamics against them. Sort of like Niou, though not really. Niou is more often than not an entertainer, flashy and often goes for the big bonus rounds. Ezakiya is simple-minded, in the sense that he only wants to win using the ways he knows how.
Yet, more importantly (to him), there is a bit of Shiraishi (when it comes to persistence) and Yanagi (when it comes to patience) in him that Kirihara finds refreshing and familiar, because there aren't as many level-headed players in the game like those two seniors, and though he has never dared express it, it's a reminder of the two most important people who have had quite a bit of a hand in Kirihara's growth as a player and a person.
"He's not my ace player," he answers, though there's no firmness in that statement. It's too early in the season to say something with absolute certainty, and like what Yanagi said, people might be able to surprise him down the road. "But I can't put him in doubles right now. He's too good, and they'll notice it fast. We need to keep their eyes away from our doubles teams."
He needs them all to think that Doubles is his team's weakest link, that if they tried, it can be so easy to drive a wedge in their winning streak and throw their pride right back at their face. Kirihara wants them all to take that bait, and have the opposite be done to them. It'll far easier in the long run.
Of course, he's not about to be stupid. He knows that come the Prefectural tournament, come the Kantou Regionals, where all the real players of the game are headed, they'll be baring all of his tricks for the world to see.
He looks forward to that.
Masato snorts. "They're already noticing him."
"All well and good," he replies idly. "He's an excellent singles player, and with practice, he can improve immensely, but his strength is what everyone will be looking for to find weaknesses in. I want them to look at him and see him as he is now."
"Nothing wrong with giving them a little sample to play with," Kaede suggests, with the barest hint of glee in his voice. "Show them a bit of what he's got, and make sure he loosens up a bit in the meantime. He's a bit stiff when playing on his own, but with a partner he'll manage to cool himself down some."
It's just like Kaede to notice those thinks, of course.
"Are you volunteering?" Kirihara turns to him with a quirk of his lips.
Kaede returns it with a challenging raise of his eyebrow. "Only if you actually do it."
Kirihara thinks on it for a moment. He turns to Masato.
"It's not a bad idea," he answers the unasked question casually, but Kirihara knows him better. There's a suggestion there hidden behind the glint in his eyes. It's become an old argument between them, regarding Kaede and Ezakiya and their potential as partners, and it's time to settle the score. "You could also take up Singles 1 in the semi-finals to stretch your limbs, too. I don't mind being the reserve."
"Doubles 2, Rikkai wins, 6-0!"
Kirihara glances at the scoreboard with minimal interest, but he does nod at his teammates for a job well done. He doesn't need to know what the stats have been, for the results have been the same as before: their opponents have not gotten any opportunity to get a ball past their defence. Urayama, despite his childish appearance and personality, has proven that he is more than capable in laying out the opponent's weaknesses in order for Takaishi to counterattack. Still, there's something about Urayama's game that completely unnerves Kirihara, in a way that makes him unsuitable for anything but singles in the long run, and he has to find that out for himself soon.
Nevertheless, Urayama and Takaishi are absolutely preening at his acknowledgement, however mild, much to his amusement. At any rate, having their spirits raised is a bonus for him.
He scoffs quietly and turns to Kaede. "I guess, It's on your head."
Kaede grins and picks up his racket as he stands up, bouncing on his feet as though Christmas has suddenly arrived on his doorstep, without a care in the world. "Great!"
• • •
The semi-finals game is against Tachikawa Junior High School, the third seed of their district, and inevitably reminds him of Makinofuji Gakuin and their strong, tough guys with lots of brawn to share but very little brain to use. Kirihara acknowledges them as one of the more powerful schools in their prefecture (in as much as he should, as the captain of his team, because to be honest, he personally doesn't actually care, because he already knows what the outcome of this game is going to be), but they have yet to defeat Rikkai during the district and prefectural tournaments for the last twenty-seven years, and Kirihara's not about to break their winning streak.
This is one of those long-standing feuds that just ends up boring you to death, and he, a player, is sick and tired of the comparisons made between them before the matches have been started. Tachikawa doesn't hold a candle to Rikkai, enough said.
He glances at his teammates' faces as he lists them the new line-up (Uoya and Honda, for Doubles 2; Kaede and Ezakiya for Doubles 1; Takaishi for Singles 3; Urayama for Singles 2; and himself, for Singles 1), and his lips twitch at their mystified expressions. They've expected very little (or none at all) to be changed, but the sudden rotation gets them thinking that perhaps this game is going to be much more serious than they first assumed.
Perhaps, it is. Kirihara dislikes Tachikawa's proud captain enough to actually want to pummel him to the ground (he rest of the world obviously knows that, too), and Kaede and Masato have provided him ample opportunity to do just that.
"Finally debuting as a doubles player, eh?" Kaede nudges at Ezakiya, who is oddly quiet, wringing his racket between his fingers. Kirihara eyes glances at Masato, who smirks back, before setting his eyes on the pair again. "You got me, of course, so don't worry your head off too much. We'll knock them down a peg or two."
Ezakiya manages a small smile, though his face is downcast. "I'll keep it in mind, sempai."
It figures, Kirihara thinks, that he's much more afraid of failing in doubles than in singles. It is, after all, where his captain wants him best. The next match will provide much amusement for Kirihara, if all else fails.
"Placing your strongest doubles teams together already?" Masato murmurs quietly, moving behind the coach's bench where Kirihara is sitting, but Kirihara hears the laughter in his otherwise placid voice. "I thought we needed to keep them on the down low."
"Together, but not with each other," he replies just as quietly, eyes rolling heavenward to meet Masato's expression. "I'm still not changing my mind, you know."
Masato smiles. Kirihara is reminded of a cat lounging about under the summer heat. "We'll see."
• • •
Tachikawa loses to a 4-0 streak (6-0, Doubles 2; 6-1, Doubles 1; 6-0, Singles 3; and 6-0, Singles 2) that sets the pace for the final match of the semi-finals. Their captain, whose name Kirihara doesn't have the patience to know, is livid, his face beat red and his eyes set on revenge, but Kirihara recognizes the trembling fear deep within his very skin as they both step in the middle of the court and face each other. When they shake hands, Kirihara feels his opponent's hands shaking, cold and sweaty. It's the feeling every player gets when Yukimura Seiichi once stepped inside the court, and Kirihara is inevitably reminded that he is more than just Kirihara Akaya, Rikkaidai's strongest ace.
He is its captain now.
"So you've come out of your hiding place, eh, Kirihara?"
"If you give me a good warm-up, I might give you a front-row seat pass during the finals," he replies indifferently, resisting the urge to roll his eyes so openly. If there's anything that he's learned from his seniors, it's that an ounce of professionalism, no matter how small, goes a long way. Especially considering just who he is.
Still, he simply can't help but be snarky.
"That twerp of yours," the guy says, his sneer encompassing the entirely of his face in a way that doesn't suit him, "the one partnering up with your friend. You didn't put him in Singles 1 this time. Afraid he could have lost?"
The taunt warrants little of Kirihara's attention, much less the lashing of his short fuse, but he knows how it's started. A 6-1 is a good run if the opponent is strong enough to contend; but Tachikawa and Rikkaidai are vastly different, and the latter is stronger and much more accomplished and definitely in a higher pedestal, and a loss of one game is a taint to their name.
Champions, contenders, runner-ups, a nationally ranked team with a nationally ranked captain – but with a flaw, or two, or more, and maybe they'll break if they're pried open, yes? Already he can feel the rumours going around that perhaps this Rikkaidai team has a defect that will show itself in time, and it can be used against them if the cards are played rightly, the way that Seigaku did when they defeated them — twice — last year.
Ezakiya and Kaede have played as well as Kirihara has expected them to. Their partnership has steadily gained its footing during the course of the game, and after their one loss due to (and there's no denying it, really) Ezakiya's anxiety, the mood of their game has changed since then. Kaede, with his experience in doubles since his elementary school days, has expertly guided his junior throughout the whole ordeal with unbending patience, and Ezakiya has followed him faithfully, learning with his eyes and ears open.
In all actuality, he cares little for the one game loss given to their opponent, because he knows better. His teammates have done exactly what he wants them to do, and that is simply to win. He simply won't stand for the rumour-mongers that will dare paint Rikkai as a lesser team than it really is.
"Not at all," he drawls, confident. "He won this game, after all." A short reply, but it gets the point across.
"For a newcomer, he's good," says the guy frostily, as he lets go of Kirihara's hand, "but if he keeps that up, he won't stand a chance. You know better — he's going to be eaten alive during the Prefecturals. Who knows if he might drag the whole team with him? Rikkaidai hasn't had much of good run lately, has it?"
The mention of Rikkaidai's past failures gnaws at him, and it's an unwelcoming feeling to be reminded of the expectations on his shoulders and the burdens of the past team's mistakes and unplanned disasters. He's been there last year, from start to finish. The feelings are still fresh, strong, and sometimes painful.
The want – and need – to change the course of history gives him strength to fight back.
He's learned to accept that it will always inevitably be thrown at his face by the more amoral players who still think that provoking him is going to give them the upper hand, but it doesn't mean he has to simply take it, does it?
Kirihara sneers back, his eyes steely.
"If anyone in this place is having a bad run," he says, glancing at the scoreboard with half-contempt and half-amusement, "it definitely isn't us. And don't worry," he smiles, deadly, with a flash of teeth, fangs, and sheer will, "I'll make sure to prove it to you."
And he does so, with a flourishing 6-0 run.
• • •
"Satisfied?"
Masato glances at him, amused. "Well, I suppose, but I see that you have other ideas."
Kirihara dumps his empty water bottle in his bag and zips it close before leaning back against the bench, eyeing the entire tennis court with an appreciative eye. The tournament has ended some time ago, and they simply are waiting for their bus to arrive. Kaede has volunteered to grab snacks for the team while they wait, dragging a complacent Ezakiya and a scowling Uoya with him. The rest of them have scattered around the area, draining the last of their adrenaline rush that the games have provided before it's time for to go back home.
"Next time," he promises, "I'll prove my point."
"I'm sure you will," Masato says. "But you have to admit that I am right."
"You are right," he echoes lazily. "They do well together as partners."
"But?"
"Eventually, Ezakiya will need someone he can depend on without feeling that he's becoming a burden," he says. "Kaede is a good mentor for him, but he will be holding himself back if he only focuses on Ezakiya's growth." This he knows, of course, from experience, and the value of Yanagi's sacrifice during the final, precious moments of their time together as doubles partners and teammates is never lost on him. "And you know him; behind that attitude of his, Kaede's the guy that cares the most about this team, and more so than the both of us."
"I know Kaede," Masato concedes, though barely, "but I don't know Ezakiya. I don't know if what you say is true, and I don't know what makes you say it."
Kirihara smirks. "Then, we'll just have to see, I guess."
"Always the element of surprises," Masato laughs. "Fine, but don't keep me waiting for too long."
• • •
"We won," he informs. His phone is in his ear, as he sprawls all over the mattress like a lazy cat. It's the middle of the night, and he's just arrived about five minutes ago. He hasn't even taken off his socks yet. The household is quiet save for his own voice, and his sister's booming radio from the other side of the house.
"So I heard," Yukimura replies serenely, his voice sounding amused, unsurprised, and proud all at once. It seems that Rikkai's gossip circle has done its job, as always, and Kirihara just might let them off on this one, if all goes well. Considering Yukimura's attitude, he's hoping that it will. "Congratulations."
"Thanks," he says gratefully. He swallows thickly, and adds, "the next tournament's still in a couple of months, and we have a long way to go if we want to improve."
"You'll have all the time," says Yukimura helpfully. "The wait is always the longest part, but it will help your team to be able to hone their skills before they're thrown in the battlefield again."
"Yeah," he says, a bit meekly, yet more so than he likes. He pauses for the briefest of moments, hesitating and wondering, but he goes for the kill. "I was hoping maybe you could help me. Masato and I have been brainstorming but I thought —"
His sentence ends abruptly, awkwardly, but Yukimura picks up the slack. "Of course, Akaya, I'd be happy to," he accepts, his voice warm and delighted, and Kirihara knows, knows, that he is forgiven, and the past is the past. "I'm always here if you need my help."
I know, Kirihara thinks. "Yeah, thanks."
——
Last Edited: 03-Mar-2012