Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.


As he steps out of the locker room, feeling very uncomfortable in his new uniform and holding his elder brother's old tennis racket in his hand, he looks out at the stands.

She has not arrived yet.

With a slightly disheartened sigh, he steps out tot the tennis court, awaiting the arrival of the rest of the team.

He is not looking forward to this. Despite the hours he has put into practicing, there is still a doubt in his ability from his teammates. This distrust will only be heightened if he loses his match today.

She has assured him countless times that he is excellent in form and in agility. Her faith is a relief, but uncertainty still returns today.

The coach, a burly man with countless, mysterious tattoos on his face, suddenly claps him on the back.

"Don't mess up today, kid. I let you join 'cause your brother was my best player but I got no room for sissy losers on this team."

"Yes Coach Zaraki," he replies curtly, thinking irritably that the man took tennis too seriously, especially because it involved men dressed in white short shorts prancing around the court in order to chase balls.

The coach regards him carefully before heading into the locker room to encourage the rest of the team to pick up the pace.

Slowly, the bleachers begin to fill with eager students and parents waiting to cheer on their friends or children.

He thinks briefly of his own parents. His mother is, no doubt, passed out in the middle of a ring of liquor bottles. His father is working, unaware that his youngest son's first match is today.

And his brother's ex-girlfriend...

He looks out at the audience again, hoping to catch a glimpse of her raven hair or pale skin, but she is still nowhere to be found.

The feeling of being let down is intense.

"Why so glum, Hisugaya-san?" a voice asks from behind. He turns to send Kyoraku-sempai, his brother's ex-best friend, an icy glare.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, not taking any care to be polite; he has never liked the man, because of his perverted tendencies. The man, nonetheless, breaks out into a wide grin.

"I always come to watch the games. It's habit from when Shiro was alive."

The blunt reminder of his family member's death pierces his heart, but he remains standing strong.

"It's nice to see you branching out," the older man continues, eying his tennis uniform. He is undoubtedly laughing on the inside at how uncomfortable the teen looks. "Shiro would have been so proud."

The smile he sends seems more teasing then sincere, and the white haired youngster glares before heading to his brother's team.

The coach is unsuccessfully trying to give a pep talk. All he accomplishes is spiraling the players into despair as he unknowingly sends hints that a loss means immediate dismissal from the team. Or death.

"All right, wimps. This is it. We've practiced, and if any of you embarrass my by lettin' a single ball pass you, you'll have hell to pay."

Here, he pauses to menacingly crack his knuckles and glare through the scarred eye not covered by his frighteningly suspicious eye patch. The team gulps collectively. Well, all but two.

Madarame Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika are sending the insane captain admiring looks, both looking as if they could swoon at any given moment.

The newest member of the bunch rolls his eyes at the odd display. Idiots.

And to think his brother used to put up with this everyday.

Speaking of putting up with something everyday, where was that strong willed tomboy that had promised she would be here to support him?

He looks around again, thinking that he has perhaps missed her in the growing crowd, because he knows her well enough now to understand she alway fulfills her promises. It is part of her stubborn personality.

He allows his shoulders to lose their tense position when he sees her car pulling into the parking lot nearby. She opens the door and steps out. Her legs appear first, and he is entranced by the tone muscle. The rest of her follows, and he feels sudden relief.

As she catches his eye, her face breaks out into a smile and she rushes to him. His eyes never leave her; he is captivated and does not notice anything else around him.

"Sorry it took so long," she says, grinning. "I had to bring someone along and your house is way too far away."

He stiffens instantly at this, confused but expecting the worst.

"Who-"

"Toushiro!" He is cut off by a shrill cry he knows all too well, though it has been so long since he has heard it. How can he have been too enthralled to miss such a shocking appearance by the person he did not expect to see?

"Okaa-san?" he gasps at the strawberry-haired woman grinning at him. "What are you doing here?"

She lunges at him, crushing his face against her breasts.

"Did you really think I would miss my baby's first game?" she coos. "No way, silly. I'm here to cheer on my sweet pea!"

She takes no care in lowering the volume of her voice. He feels his face heat up at the stares in their direction.

It does not help that the one responsible for bringing his mother is stifling a laugh with her hand, obviously enjoying the embarrassment she has caused.

He roughly pushes himself out of the embrace he is locked in and fixes a stern expression on his mother.

"Are you drunk?" he demands. Her face falls at the question.

"Of course not." She is serious and solemn as she answers, and he immediately feels ashamed for being so harsh.

"You see, Toush," his schoolmate steps in. Toush. He likes it, "I swung by your house this morning after you left for practice. I'll tell you, it's a real dump! Do you guys ever clean up after yourselves? Anyway, I thought your mommy showing up might make you feel better about playing, since you sounded so scared on the phone. I'm not even kidding. I'm surprised you haven't pissed yourself yet. Anyway, so I swung by and got her sobered up; sleep, water, meds, food, the whole deal. And here we are."

He grits his teeth to show his annoyance at the long, and embarrassing, explanation, but the gratitude he feels cannot be expressed. How has she managed to do what he has not had the courage to do for so long?

He has always been afraid that pointing out his mother's problem would only worsen it, or anger his father, who refuses to admit that the remaining members of his family are crumbling apart.

"Aww, my poor baby was scared?" his mother suddenly squeals. "Mommy's here now sweetheart, so there no need to worry."

Her being here means there is double the amount to worry about.

"Well baby," he hears his mother continue, and turns his attention towards her. "I'll be in the stands. Do good!"

And she bounces away to try and find a good seat.

To his exasperation, she does this by seducing the two men seated in the center front row seats. The two blushing young students immediately abandon their chairs to the shameless married woman...who is sending him a victory sign.

He inhales through his nose deeply, trying to keep his temper in check. Not surprisingly, it helps when he hears her tinkling laugh from behind.

He has long ago realized, and accepted, his feelings for the dark haired tomboy, after night after sleepless night and painful visits to the cemetery, during which he spent hours apologizing profusely, with his head bowed down with shame, to the gravestone marked Hitsugaya Jyuushiro.

His guilt and self hatred have him convinced that the greatest sin he can ever commit is actually acting on his feelings. She is off limits, and he will admire from afar only, with disgrace.

"You know this is all your fault," he says sharply. She grins mischievously.

"Why can't you just say 'thank you' like a normal person?" she wonders aloud, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, thank you so much for bringing my alcoholic mother to my first tennis game where I'll probably embarrass myself and have to hear about it for the rest of eternity when she never lets me forget about it."

"You're welcome," she replies, cheekily. "Now you get out there and make me proud!"

With a wave, she runs out to join his mother in the stands. He watches her until his teammates call for him to join them off the court so the game can begin.

He thanks Kami his brother played singles because he is sure it is impossible for him to find a member he can play doubles with harmoniously enough to actually win.

He seats himself on a bench, tuning out everything, because there is no need for him to pay any attention until he is playing.

Madarame and Ayasegawa easily win their games, earning themselves pats on their back from the coach, causing them to beam. It's almost cute how much they adore the guy.

When he is called, he meets his first opponent on the court.

The man on the other side of the net is not what he expected. His challenger has the same deep green eyes as him, the same stoic expression, the same short stature. It is a complete surprise, and he wonders whether this man is even here willingly. After all, both are sporting the same bored face, like they would rather be anywhere else.

The two shake hands quickly as is required, and take their positions. Although the game has not even started yet, he can already hear loud cheers directed at him coming from the center of the front row. His ears burn in embarrassment.

The ball is thrown into the air and smashes against his opponent's racket with amazing strength. It flies at him at breakneck speed, and bounces once...twice...

It is his first chance, and he misses.

The Karakura crowd groans collectively as the ref announces fifteen-love to his competitor.

However, he has not lost hope. He uses the first shot as an opportunity to analyze his opposer's playing style; his rival waits for the ball to come down to a slightly lower level than most are used to, most probably because of his height, making his shots fly slightly in a different pattern over the net. The furious strength he uses when slamming his racket against the ball causes him to lose greater balance. He needs slightly more time after a hit to regain his stance, and that is the perfect opportunity to counter him.

The next one comes at him faster, but he is ready. He watches the ball fly closely, predicting its flight pattern, and rushes to one end of the court. He has to hit it before his rival regains his balance. The ball comes right at him, and instead of hitting it off to a side where it would be near impossible for the opponent to rush to it in time, he sends it flying straight to the player. His opponent sees it coming, but has not recovered his stability enough to hit back properly. He tries to send it back, his racket managing to make a hit at the last second, but there is not enough force, and the ball just hits the net before rolling away.

The score is tied, and he is not so embarrassed this time by the loud cries he can hear from his cheerleaders.

The game is long. He realizes he must not underestimate his opponent, for he also calculates every move that is made on the court. Both change their playing styles frequently to suit the counterattacks.

After all his hard work, the score is two sets to one set. His opponent has won the match, and walks off stoically.

He heads back off the court, and is stopped by the captain.

"Good match, kid. Normally, I would kick someone off the team for losin', but since you were playin' against their best player and managed to win even one set, I'll let you stay."

"Thank you, Coach," he says crisply, before quickly walking towards the locker room.

Once again, he is stopped. But this time, the interruption is welcome.

"Toush, that was amazing!" His first love interest rushes at him and he feels lighthearted. "I heard that guy was a junior tennis champion or something when he was little, and you almost won against him! And to think you were worried."

"But I lost," he points out. She rolls her eyes and swats his arm, mumbling about his "constant negativity" and his "way of ruining everything with his damn moodiness."

The two head to his previous destination together, conversing easily as they have become accustomed to doing and he has become accustomed to loving. Their shoulders bump every now and then and, although she pays it no mind, he keenly feels every touch.

But there is still the issue of his elder brother. Whenever he stares at her face too long, he thinks of betrayal. Whenever random thoughts of her fill his head, he thinks of disloyalty. Whenever he finds himself becoming happy in her presence, he thinks of unfaithfulness.

Sometimes he wishes he had a way of ridding the gut wrenching thoughts from his mind, but he is also terrified of the idea of their disappearance. Without them, he would lose his self control, and every fiber of his being rejects the idea of double-crossing his beloved brother.

But sometimes it is so hard, because he wants her so badly.

It does not help that, over her shoulder, he can see his mother pretending to be interested in the next match taking place on the court, but sneaking glances at them with a warm smile on her face. She has always hoped he would become more sociable, but he knows she is thinking mostly in the friendship category...boy, is she off.


Hurrah! I've updated. Sorry to take so long. This chapter was really difficult to write. I hpoe I didn't make any major spelling mistakes. My computer has a virus. My Word or OpenOffice is not working, and neither is my Internet. I gruelingly typed out almost the entire chapter on Fanfiction, using FireFox (which is strangely still working), because I am so dedicated ;D

I hope I didn't offend any tennis players that are reading this story (Toushiro made a very bad comment), but I thought you should know that I actually have a lot of respect for people who play sports (even something like Ping Pong), because I am so "athletically challenged." Not to mention, because of my hatred of sports, I had to research so much about tennis just to figure out how to tell you all who won, and I still think I messed it up. Why is scoring in tennis so confusing?

While I'm on the subject, I hope you guys liked the small part I wrote where Toushiro was playing. I didn't want to bore you with making a whole bunch of mistakes because of my limited knowledge of tennis, so I didn't bother writing out the entire match. But I put in that small chunk just to show you how I think Toushiro probably plays sports. It seems just like him to analyze every move and make extensive plans and treat the game as some sort of great battle. And yes, his opponent was Ulquiorra. Why? I don't know. I felt like it, and he just popped into my head.

Just so you guys know, this story will probably end very soon. Maybe 3-4 more chapters, and then I'll be done with it. But, I have started another story! I know it's horrible of me to start another when I have two in progress, but I think it'll be okay since my spring break starts in 2 days (!) and I'll soon have a lot of time to update. I'll be putting up the first chapter soon, so be on the lookout!