Serve and Volley

Chapter 9: In which much shameless fan service is awarded and new suspicions arise

Look! Only a three month waiting period between posts. Not so bad, right? And this one's much longer than the last one. And filled with exciting new plot twists. MG and EB have developed a system of phone ficcage which will hopefully keep updates more regular. Seriously, we have a date set to work on the next one. A date within this month.MG would like to express her joy in new episodes of CSI. EB would like to express her sadness on the end of tennis, but the fic shall soldier on. No matter what Konomi says or how many crappy matches Echizen wins by being a hack.

Thank you to everyone who sticks with us during these ridiculously long dry spells. We appreciate it and hope you enjoy!

Fuji paced back down the hallway, feeling about the same as he had walking into the cell. There was only one way he could be released this early, and that meant Tezuka had lost his position as coach. And Fuji'd probably be forced to leave the team, maybe the school. And neither of them would be able to continue careers in tennis andeverythingwas ruined. And all because someone had opened his mouth. Maybe Eiji, maybe Atobe (and if it was the latter, the Hyotei boy would pay dearly). Fuji doubted Tezuka would have blown his cover so quickly; keeping quiet was what the captain did best...

...which made him all the more surprised when he saw Tezuka stand up as Fuij entered the waiting area.

Fuji stopped next to the receptionist's desk as Tezuka walked over to him. Disbelieving, he began, "Why did you--"

Tezuka grabbed him in a hug before he could complete his sentence. Right in the middle of the police station. In front of other people. For a moment, Fuji was too stunned by the proximity and warmth to speak. And when he did try, he was interrupted again. "Tezuka--"

"Idiot. Promise me you won't ever do anything so selfishly stupid ever again," Tezuka mumbled into his hair.

Fuji smiled naturally for the first time in at least three days, letting himself sink a little deeper into the embrace before saying, "No."


Sara watched the reunion from a respectable distance away. She'd observed the captain unsuccessfully trying to hide his anxiety over the course of the last six hours. His face remained expressionless, but judging by the trash can next to him, he'd methodically shredded some 27 styrofoam cups.

When Fuji was brought into the room, however, Sara thought she noticed a flash of emotion overtake Tezuka, though it could have been the glare off of his glasses. She doubted that now, however. His face reminded her of the time the apartment complex next to hers had caught fire, injuring several tenants and destroying most of the building. Sara had been asleep at the time, too exhausted to hear the phone ring with Grissom's call. She'd just woken up when she heard him unlocking the door, calling her name. Tezuka's face looked about the same as Grissom's did then: sudden unguarded relief mixed with the fear of a narrowly avoided disaster.

She probably looked as surprised as Fuji did now when Grissom pulled her into a bear hug back then. Someone you'd do anything to protect, the boy had said to her. She supposed she could forgive his earlier comments a little. But only a little.

She felt Grissom's familiar presence appear behind her, just as the two boys finally started speaking in hushed Japanese.

"What are they saying?" she whispered.

Grissom's trademark stoicism morphed into an amused smile before he translated. "He called him an idiot and ordered him not to do that again."

Fuji shook his head and mumbled a response.

"He said 'no,'" Grissom offered.

"I caught that."

Tezuka kept an arm protectively around Fuji, steering him towards the exit. Both boys made a short bow as they left, Fuji giving Sara a knowing look accompanied by a smirk in Grissom's direction just before they disappeared through the door.

"What was that?" Grissom asked.

"Nothing," Sara replied a little too quickly.

Grissom's raised eyebrow clearly showed his disbelief.

"What? No. It is nothing."

Grissom put one hand on Sara's arm, making her freeze as he murmured, "Whatever you say, dear."

Naturally, Greg chose that moment to burst into the room, trailing two more members of the Japanese tennis team behind him. "Grissom, you might want to see this," he said, looking perplexed and the suddenly increased distance between his colleagues.


Genichirou Sanada was a man with a force of presence that immediately dominated any room he entered. Fuji sensed him even before he saw the trademark baseball cap coming down the hall, steamrollering Kirihara and following one of the harried-looking CSI's from earlier. Fuji quickly processed their appearance: Kirihara's sleepless eyes, Sanada's hand the only force moving the boy forward, and the Ziploc bag containing an all too familiar white baseball cap.

He glanced at Tezuka whose eyes were trained on the bag. None of the teammates spoke to each other as the Rikkai boys passed, though Kirihara shot Fuji a glare probably designed to intimidate him into keeping quiet on this new development. Fat chance.

"Tezuka, we should go… now."

Tezuka nodded and the two of them slipped back out into the Las Vegas heat.


Grissom took in the appearance of his coworker and the two university students standing behind him. He couldn't help but notice that they both appeared about six feet tall, taller than Fuji anyway. One of them looked extremely agitated, hopping from one foot to the other and occasionally glancing backwards at his teammate. Said teammate kept one hand on the other's shoulder, almost as if keeping him from bolting.

"What is it?" Grissom asked Greg.

"Akae-Akai- he," Greg pointed to the shorter boy, "found the cap." He held up a plastic bag with a crumpled, white baseball cap.

The boy rolled his eyes, hissing slightly through his teeth. "My name is Akaya Kirihara, and someone put that in my room." He pointed at the bag."

"Sara, Greg, take this to the lab. You two-" he pointed at the tennis players- "come with me."

He led them into one of the interrogation rooms and had them sit in front of the metal table in the center. Kirihara looked to the other boy, (a senior named Genichirou Sanada he told Grissom) almost for permission, before sitting. Sanada kept his arms folded across his chest, barely moving except to nod at his teammate.

"Where did you find the hat?" Grissom began.

"Under my bed," Kirihara said after another quick glance. "Behind some of my tennis stuff I haven't been using."

"When?"

"This morning. I didn't check the clock."

"Why didn't you come in sooner?" It seemed pretty odd to Grissom that this key piece of evidence hadn't shown up sooner. He wondered how much the boy knew.

"Because I didn't want to get framed for murder!" Kirihara snapped.

"Akaya, calm down," Sanada ordered. He turned to Grissom. "He wasn't sure what to do with it and waited for me to get back to our room. I brought him here. Neither of us had anything to do with Echizen's death."

"I didn't say you did," Grissom said calmly, "But I will need you both to tell me where you were the night he was killed."

"As I already told the police, we were both in our room. Asleep." Kirihara kept his eyes down as Sanada said this.

"If you were both asleep, how did you know the other person was in the room?"

"I'm a light sleeper. I would have woken up if anyone came in or left." Sanada looked at Kirihara again, still that forceful, focused stare. His presence seemed to overwhelm his teammate.

Grissom rested his cheek on his open hand. After a few moment's thought, he pulled out his cell phone, saying, "I'm going to have you talk to Captain Brass to write a formal statement."

A few minutes later, Brass arrived, taking Sanada out of the room after Grissom explained the situation. The C.S.I. was now alone with the fidgeting tennis player.

"How did the cap get into your room?"

"I don't know. Gremlins?" He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms defensively.

Grissom ignored the comment, staring the boy down. "There's no one else beside your roommate that would have access to your room?"

"The cleaning people, I guess. It's always the maid who did it, right? Or the butler?"

"I'm talking about your teammates," Grissom stated. "This isn't a joke."

Kirihara shrugged. "We don't get a whole lot of visitors. The towel boy brings us our laundry and stuff."

"So only you or Sanada could have put the hat there?"

Kirihara's eyes narrowed. "I didn't say that! Somebody came in my room! I knew I shouldn't have brought that stupid hat in!"

"Tell me again where you were that night."

"I don't know! I--" Kirihara stopped mid-sentence, realizing what he'd said.

Grissom blinked in surprise. "You don't know?"

Kirihara looked around, finding no real support. "Sanada says I was in my room, so I must have been in my room."

"But you're not sure?" Grissom asked, puzzled.

"I said I was!"

"We've looked into your medical records," Grissom added. "Would it be possible for you to have left your room in one of your 'black-outs?'

Kirihara fell back in his chair with a sigh. "This is why I didn't want to bring that thing in." He took a couple of moments looking at the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. "They don't happen much anymore, and usually it's only when I get mad or during tennis, so I don't think anything happened that night. I wasn't mad at Echizen or anything." Kirihara shut his eyes again, and when he opened them, his defenses had come up again. "I know nothing happened. I couldn't have left the room. Someone would have seen me."

Grissom leaned back in his chair, taking the new information in. This case was becoming much more complex than he originally thought.