Author's Note: Because I like to think that those heavy black wristbands mean something. Akaya on how he finally became a regular on the tennis team. (Also, please say hello to my OC, Moriyama.)

Disclaimer: I don't own The Prince of Tennis.


I is for Initiation

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The road to true manhood, and the coveted yellow jersey, ended taking him almost six boring months after he was made to swallow his pride and join the tennis club as a lowly member. And even then, he had been made to wait in the wings for the longest time – his prodigious talent wasted on stupid first-year ball duties, and even stupider swing exercises that he could do just as well in his sleep – feeling ignored and largely forgotten about as if he wasn't the greatest thing ever to have happened to Rikkai Dai.

(After the Big Three crashed the scene, anyway.)

Honestly, it had been beyond humiliating.

Although, he had to admit that overhearing (or maybe it had been eavesdropping, which was basically the same thing) Yukimura-buchou-to-be and Yanagi-senpai talking about him as their 'secret weapon', made the waiting – and the added insult of being bossed around by people who weren't any fitter, stronger, sharper, faster or better than him, just older – a bit more bearable.

Not that Akaya had been any less ready to burst with grudge and pent-up frustration within the first week of having properly joined the club. So what, if Moriyama-senpai's useless friends had gotten their tennis racquets handed to them by a freshman in front of the entire school? Akaya didn't think it was such a big deal, and the Big Three certainly didn't seem to mind. But even though everyone knew that the second-years Yukimura Seiichi, Sanada Genichirou and Yanagi Renji were the ones to actually pull all the strings behind the scenes, Moriyama-senpai had still been 'buchou' at the time, and that fact alone counted for everything.

And so he was forced to wait for the various district, prefectural and regional tournaments to come and go; for the National Tournament to be dominated by Rikkai Dai and the Three Demons for the second year running; and for Moriyama-senpai to finally retire as a senpai of the tennis club and pass the torch to buchou, before Sanada-fukubuchou grudgingly tossed a pair of heavy black wristbands at him with a short (but to the point, as was fukubuchou's style) instruction to put them on and keep them on. (Or else.)

That had been it. There had been no other warning. No school-wide announcement, no grand proclamation for everyone in the prefecture to hear; no nothing, really, which had been hugely disappointing in its own way. But even then, before fukubuchou had stomped off in a huff to yell at Niou-senpai for something or another, Akaya felt sure that something amazing must have happened. For one, Sanada-fukubuchou wasn't the type to suddenly hand out tennis equipment (not even to kick-ass junior aces, who totally deserved recognition) out of the goodness of his heart; this mostly on account of the unlikelihood of Sanada-san even having one, as everything would make so much more sense if he turned out to be a cranky tennis robot in a flesh suit. But more importantly, the Three Demons and Yagyuu-senpai wore identical pairs; as did Niou-senpai, Marui-senpai and Jackal-senpai, too. And while they hadn't been selected by Moriyama-senpai to star in the Nationals line-up that year like the Big Three and Yagyuu-senpai, even Akaya had to admit that watching them play tennis at least didn't make his eyes bleed.

So seeing how everyone on the team that slightly mattered already owned a pair, Akaya figured that he should just do what he was told. "Che. Stupid weights," he muttered to himself after pulling on both wristbands, grumbling a bit just because he felt like he ought to.

"Geez, would you stop complaining?" sighed Jackal-senpai, suddenly materializing out of nowhere (like a ghost!) to whack Akaya over the head for supposedly acting like an ungrateful brat.

But before Akaya had the chance to properly explain to Jackal-senpai once and for all why it was fundamentally wrong to creep up on unsuspecting super-rookies like that, he was viciously attacked from behind by none other than Jackal-senpai's Best Tennis Buddy Forever.

"Eh…?! What's this? Are those power-wrists?" cooed Jackal-senpai's BTBF excitedly from somewhere above Akaya's head, cheerfully detonating a bright pink sticky bubble just shy of his left ear. "Ne, check them out, Jackal! Looks like the kid finally earned his stripes!"

"Marui-senpai!" Akaya cried out in a very many voice, doing his best to shake himself free from the net-specialist. "Marui-senpai, get off! Get off! Or you'll get gum on my hair again!"

Luckily for everyone involved, that had only happened once. But Marui-senpai had taken the gum-in-hair incident hard enough to treat Akaya to a whole afternoon in the arcade, and so he reluctantly let go of Akaya's shoulders to attach himself to Jackal-senpai's side instead.

"Well, you know, that was an accident," snorted Marui-senpai dismissively, Jackal-senpai merely shaking his head at the bad memory.

Akaya rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Whatever, senp—"

"And what are you all doing?" inquired Yagyuu-senpai politely, approaching the group from one of the far courts with Niou-senpai in tow. "Oh, I see. It seems congratulations are in order, Kirihara-kun."

Akaya regarded his so-called elders with deep, well-founded suspicion. Yagyuu-senpai had the whole dagger-cloaked-in-velvet thing down to perfection, making him less overtly lethal than Niou-senpai or Sanada-senpai but just as dangerous. And if Akaya had learnt anything so far – especially from meeting buchou, who operated on a whole different level of scary – it was that appearances didn't count for jack. So it wasn't like Akaya was about to let his guard down now.

"…but what for, senpai?" he asked reluctantly, rightfully apprehensive of the answer, because knowing them, it really could be anything.

"Look, it means you're one of us now," explained Marui-senpai impatiently. "Honestly, can't you figure out anything on your own? Man, you really are hopeless, Akaya!"

"S-Shut up!" snapped Akaya defensively before what Marui-senpai had actually said filtered through properly.

Once it had, however, realization stained his cheeks a horrible, horrible shade of pink. And true to form, Niou-senpai had pounced on the chance to make things even worse by snickering condescendingly at him from behind Yagyuu-senpai.

"Maa, it took you long enough." Niou-senpai's icy eyes had sparkled with enough mischief to make Akaya shudder. "Piyo~"

But before Akaya had a chance to react to Niou-senpai's totally creeping him out, a melodic voice entered the fray:

"Why aren't you practising?"

"Yo, Yukimura." Niou-senpai smirked so devilishly that Akaya half-expected buchou to do something to wipe it off. But three seconds passed, then three more, and Niou-senpai was still very much alive, leaving Akaya torn between awe and disappointment. "We're just congratulating the brat for taking the last spot on the team."

Yukimura-buchou hadn't said anything to this, but his eyes may or may not have softened for a second before he kindly gave them the choice to run now or run later as punishment for slacking off.

And that, Akaya supposed, with the benefit of hindsight twenty-twenty, had been it as far as initiation rites went.