Author's Note: A certain someone decides that enough is enough, and finally confronts a great injustice.

Set in the days leading up to Seigaku's 'Another Story' visit to Shitenhouji, and as such it is based almost entirely on the anime. The anime. (Hint: I wouldn't say it twice if it wasn't important.) Also, given that the PoT-universe operates under the real-life Japanese tertiary academic calendar, so the boys are currently on their summer break.

This was definitely a fun one to write. Really difficult, but fun.

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

Y is for the Yukimura Zone

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He has just sat down in his favourite chair, a cup of steaming tea by his side and a shiny new historical novel in his hands, all set to enjoy a rare moment of quality me time, when a low buzzing noise suddenly cuts through the silence. After a moment of indecision, he finally puts down the book and reluctantly picks up his phone.

"Yes—" He deliberately forgoes the usual niceties, expecting it to be Oishi wanting to go over some minor detail on the travel itinerary again, "—Tezuka speaking."

(Although this probably wasn't entirely fair on Oishi, who hadn't asked to be put in charge of organizing the tennis club's upcoming trip to Osaka, as much as he had essentially been manipulated into doing it. But given that it was deeply ingrained into Oishi's character to worry incessantly regardless of who was responsible for their travel arrangements, coupled with the fact that Tezuka Kunimitsu since long had been forced to accept that common sense in the Seigaku camp simply wasn't common enough, Tezuka and Ryuuzaki-sensei decided that leaving the scheduling to Oishi would ultimately save everyone – Oishi included – a great deal of trouble. Naturally, it went without saying that Tezuka ended up being consulted on every minute decision made along the way. And with just a few precious days left to prepare, the pressure had only intensified.)

But strangely enough, what follows is not an onslaught of the usual apologetic rambling but a melodic chuckle, suggesting in the strongest terms possible that the caller couldn't be Oishi at all.

"Tezuka—"

"No," interrupts Tezuka hurriedly, immediately recognizing the familiar lilt and therefore refusing to take any chances.

He mentally prepares himself for a Round Two, because Tezuka knows better than thinking that the matter has been settled by a mere pre-emptive strike. He is not disappointed.

"But Tez—"

"No," he repeats firmly and emphatically. "No matter what, the answer is still 'no'."

"Come now," states the person on the other end of the line playfully, "you can't possibly know what I'm about to say, ne?"

Sensing the first, tentative tell-tale signs of a massive headache coming on, Tezuka takes a long swig of his herbal brew… and promptly chokes. "Contact Echizen," he suggests with as much dignity as the adverse circumstances will allow, acting on the slim chance that the caller can be persuaded to take the bait and leave Tezuka be.

"Saa, this is certainly a surprise," ventures the caller at length. "Who would have thought? A captain delegating his responsibilities to an underclassman like that – you're really setting a bad example to everyone!"

Tezuka very nearly drops the phone. "You are hardly in a position to lecture me on the setting of examples," he is quick to point out.

"Maa, maa, so defensive…" There is another breezy chuckle. "But if I wanted to speak to that boy, don't you think I would have called him directly? Why go through the trouble of contacting you first?"

Grudgingly, Tezuka must admit that this makes sense. "Don't you have summer homework to do?" he asks instead, in a last-ditch attempt to derail the inevitable.

"My summer homework?" echoes the voice incredulously. "But it has only just been assigned! Surely—"

"Which is all the more reason to get started," interjects Tezuka sternly, triumphantly slipping into his designated role as overbearing disciplinarian. "The Nationals may be over, but that is no excuse to let your guard down!"

Satisfied that he has made his point, Tezuka sits back, letting his revered Grandfather's words of wisdom sink in properly. But this time, they don't generate any of the usual, immediate responses – yes, Tezuka! I will do my best, Tezuka! I won't let you down, Tezuka! – and Tezuka doesn't quite know what to make of that.

"Saa, I really must say—" The voice sounds thoroughly amused for some reason, "—you truly live up to your reputation, Tezuka-kun."

(Tezuka-kun? Tezuka-kun?)

Tezuka frowns. "You haven't called me that in years, Fuji," he remarks suspiciously, quietly wondering what the genius technician might be up to now.

The ensuing silence is profound. Then, hesitantly, "Tezuka-kun, please correct me if I'm wrong, but did you just call me 'Fuji'?"

Tezuka sighs. Honestly, that Fuji! "Yes, I did."

"You're mistaken. I'm not Fuji."

"Don't be stupid, Fuji—" Tezuka briefly entertains the thought of hanging up the phone and just be done with it, "—of course it is you."

"I'm not Fuji," insists Fuji adamantly, and Tezuka has to admit that at least Fuji seems committed to whatever spiel he has going on. But there is a time and a place for all that, and this is not it.

"Fuji…" he begins warningly, telling his wayward teammate in not so many words to drop the act and get to the point already.

"I honestly don't know what to say," says Fuji thoughtfully. "I mean, what on earth makes you think I'm him of all people? Fuji Syusuke and I sound nothing alike!"

"Fuji—" Tezuka takes a deep breath, summoning all of his remaining calm and patience, "—if you want to play tennis so badly, I suggest you call Echizen. I repeat, call Echizen. Goodbye."

"Wait."

The hard, commanding tone speaks directly against just about everything Tezuka knows about the silky, softly-spoken Fuji. But at this point, he is far too irritated to take any real notice.

"Fuji, I'm not in the mood for—"

"Enough!" interrupts Fuji harshly. "I don't know what is going on, but enough now of this nonsense!"

And this time, Tezuka hears it clearly: either Fuji has somehow managed to cultivate a whole new voice register in the short time since they last spoke (something Tezuka quickly dismisses as highly unlikely on the grounds that even genius such as Fuji's surely must have its limits), or the voice never belonged to Fuij to begin with.

(For the life of him, Tezuka can't decide which is the more terrifying.)

"Saa, it seems I finally have your attention," continues 'Fuji' cordially. "I should probably take this opportunity to introduce myself, ne? This is Rikkai Dai's Yukimura, and I assure you that I have no intentions of scheduling a rematch against your Echizen-kun."

Guard or no guard, there is very little to be said about a statement like that. And this time, Tezuka really does drop the phone, and it hits the carpet with a dull thud.

.

"Hello? Are you still there, Tezuka-kun? Hello? Tezuka-kun?"

"Aa—" Tezuka cringes inwardly, "—Tezuka here."

"That seems to have cleared up our little misunderstanding," replies Yukimura Seiichi politely. "But Tezuka-kun, did you really think I was Fuji-kun?" he asks curiously.

Tezuka grits his teeth. "I… Your intonations are similar," he lies uneasily.

(As if he wasn't humiliated enough already. Gods, Yukimura must think he's a complete idiot.)

"Oh, is that so?" Yukimura sounds genuinely thoughtful. (So maybe not.) "I have never been mistaken for someone else before."

"Yukimura-kun, is there anything in particular that you wanted to speak to me about?" asks Tezuka self-consciously to move the conversation along.

"Yes!" replies Yukimura at once. "It's something very important."

Tezuka really has no idea of what the Child of God might be referring to, but assumes that it must be about tennis. "Yukimura-kun, you should speak directly to Ryuuzaki-sensei," he states matter-of-factly, mindful of these self-coached teams tending to ignore the proper channels for official communication.

But contrary to all of his expectations, Yukimura laughs. "Why would I do that? You said it yourself, Tezuka-kun, the tournament season is over already and—" He stops. "You must be talking about organizing some form of joint training camp for our teams, am I right? Well, Rikkai's recent setbacks to one side, I don't think we have to resort to something like that quite yet! I suppose I should thank you for the offer, though. It's very kind of you, Tezuka-kun. Ultimately, it is completely unnecessary, but kind."

Tezuka shakes his head in wonder, partly annoyed and partly amused; of all the schools on the junior tennis circuit, only Rikkai Dai – and possibly Hyoutei – would ever be so conceited.

"The matter that I wish to discuss with you is of a personal nature," explains Yukimura seriously. "In fact, it has little to do with either of our teams."

Tezuka turns this over in his mind. "But it concerns tennis?" he asks uncertainly, just to make sure.

"Of course." Yukimura falls silent for a moment, then he says, "Tezuka-kun, I'll be frank with you: I seek your advice on a private matter. And believe me, I wouldn't do this if I wasn't convinced that you are the only one who can help me."

With a growing sense of dread, Tezuka sits up a bit straighter.

(This—)

"But before I do, I need you to swear on your honour as the captain of a nationally-ranked tennis club that you won't breathe as much as a single word about this to anyone. Not even to those closest to me." Yukimura lowers his voice to an almost-whisper, "As far as my team, your team and everyone else are concerned, this conversation never happened. Do we understand each other?"

(-will without a doubt turn out to be something really, really bad.)

"Yukimura-kun…" begins Tezuka, quietly struggling with what to say next. They had decided very early on that helpful advice, pep talks and kind, reassuring words in general would be Oishi's department, and they had kept it that way for a reason. "If you are in some kind of trouble, I suggest that you contact the proper authorities—"

"For goodness' sakes, Tezuka!" exclaims Yukimura impatiently, and Tezuka can't help but to note that he sounds even more like Fuji when he raises his voice. "We're barely into our teens, for crying out loud! What could I possibly ask of you?"

Yukimura may have thought that his question was purely rhetorical, but Tezuka knows better.

(The Child of God has obviously never had the pleasure of a longer conversation with Fuji. Or Inui.)

But before his better judgement has a chance to kick in, Tezuka hears himself say, "Very well."

"Thank you." There is enough relief in Yukimura's voice to make Tezuka instantly regret making such a foolish promise, and wonder what kind of dark secrets are about to be placed on his doorstep. "You see, Tezuka-kun, it concerns the matter of sworn rivals."

"…sworn rivals," repeats Tezuka slowly, once his brain has surrendered to the fact that it simply doesn't know what is going on.

"That's right," confirms Yukimura grimly. "Now, how do I put this? Oh, yes. I don't seem to have any."

Tezuka blinks hard. He doesn't wake up.

"I don't have any sworn rivals," continues Yukimura heatedly. "Not one! Zero! Can you believe it, Tezuka-kun? I am Yukimura, the 'Child of God', am I not? I should I have people challenging me from all sides! The fact that I don't, is simply unforgivable!"

"At least yours sounds good," mutters Tezuka, spontaneously airing a bit of bottled-up resentment of his own. The Child of God, the Emperor, the Master… Even the 'Pillar of Seigaku' didn't seem particularly impressive in comparison.

(Besides, come to think of it, ever since Samurai Junior had come along, it wasn't even really his anymore!)

"I'm sorry, Tezuka-kun. Did you say something?"

"Not at all," denies Tezuka quickly, silently admonishing himself for letting his guard down again. "Yukimura-kun, so far, I fail to see in what way your predicament concerns me."

The Child of God snorts derisively. "Isn't it obvious?" he asks.

It totally isn't. "No," replies Tezuka bluntly.

"Tezuka-kun, NOBODY on the junior tennis circuit has more official rivals than you." Yukimura doesn't even try to hide the unadulterated envy in his voice, and Tezuka has to admit that despite the truly surreal circumstances, it feels sort of really nice to know that even the almighty Yukimura has something to be jealous over. "It is a well-known fact. The amount of grudge against you is staggering!"

"I welcome anyone who wishes to play against me to do so," Tezuka says evenly, conveniently glossing over the fact that he tried to push 'Fuji' over on Echizen only moments ago. "But I would hardly describe the interest as 'staggering'."

"Oh really—"

Yukimura doesn't sound at all convinced, and his deeply-embedded sense of modesty to one side, Tezuka can't really blame him.

"—because that is not how I understand the situation," continues Yukimura sharply. "What about your longstanding feud with Atobe-kun?"

"Atobe…" Tezuka trails off, taking a moment to seriously ponder their strange relationship. He quickly give up. "I wouldn't call it a 'feud' exactly."

(In fact, he has no idea what to call it.)

Yukimura scoffs. "Everyone knows that there is a history of bad blood between Seigaku and Hyoutei," he says, "and that it intensified tenfold after you defeated Hyoutei's captain at the Kantou Tournament two years ago. Frankly, it is beyond me how he managed to rise to such a position in the first place, and I expect that his immediate resignation afterwards was the best that could have happened; say what you will about Hyoutei's unique elimination system, but at least it is efficient." He pauses. "Now, I highly doubt that anyone expected Atobe-kun's vow to destroy you – you specifically, Tezuka-kun, not your team – and this was after defeating your captain and winning the overall tournament, thus reclaiming at least some honour for his school. Even taking into account Atobe-kun's flair for dramatics, he needn't go that far!"

"Yukimura-kun—" Tezuka doubts very much that appealing to Yukimura's common sense will have any effect whatsoever, but at least he can say that he tried, "—you're talking about something that happened years ago. I'm sure that whatever Atobe said back then, he probably didn't mean it."

"Being someone's sworn rival is a serious thing!" reprimands him Yukimura sternly. "Don't mock his feelings, Tezuka-kun!"

Tezuka honestly doesn't know what to say at this point. "I'm not mocking him, I just—"

"And didn't Yamabuki's Sengoku-kun pull you aside after your match earlier in that same tournament," interrupts Yukimura, "saying that he would definitely win the next time you met?"

That has Tezuka raise an eyebrow. Then he remembers Inui's friend – that Yanagi Renji – and it suddenly makes a lot more sense.

"And if that wasn't enough," continues the Child of God, clearly getting fired up, "at the Nationals that year, Shitenhouji's Shiraishi-kun was overheard to have told his coach that he was looking forward to the next season, hoping to see you enter the big stage!" Yukimura takes a sharp breath. "And this was after his last match of the tournament. A tournament that Rikkai Dai won… by defeating Shitenhouji!"

"Shitenhouji didn't play in the finals that year," Tezuka feels obliged to point out.

"Well, it should have," proclaims Yukimura imperiously. "Let me tell you, Tezuka-kun, that final was an insult; our opponents folded quicker than a bad hand of cards. But the point is, Shiraishi-kun played against us and he lost to us in the most prestigious competition for our age group. He should have been angry, disappointed, devastated… But no, all he cared about was you!"

"Shitenhouji and Seigaku have always been on good terms," observes Tezuka modestly when it becomes apparent that the Child of God expects some kind of response.

"And don't even get me started on Higa's Kite-kun!" adds Yukimura accusingly.

And Tezuka, on his part, really hopes Yukimura won't.

"Tell me," he demands instead, "how on earth do you do it? What's your secret?! Even Sanada, who is my vice-captain, holds a greater grudge against you than he does against me! And I have beaten him into the ground more times than I care to remember against your once – which was ages ago, anyway! Not to mention that he takes an almost unholy interest in everything you do. Even now he's training harder than ever to develop new techniques to use against you, when the person he should be trying to defeat is me!"

Tezuka nearly smiles. But it is rather amusing – and just a little bit flattering – how he apparently is a source of contention between Rikkai Dai's Child of God and its Emperor. He really should tell Inui about this.

"It annoys me how people choose you as their sworn rival in the belief that they'll somehow automatically rise to the top if they manage to beat you," continues Yukimura passionately, and in his heart of hearts, Tezuka can't help but to feel rather smug about it. "I mean, we both know that's not true, because even if they succeed in getting that far, they would still have to pass through me to become the number one! So doesn't the grudge directed towards you, actually, truly belong to me?"

(Tezuka knows that he shouldn't let it get to him, but he's totally offended.)

"I have tried everything, Tezuka-kun! Everything!" complains Yukimura bitterly, completely wrapped up in his own misery. "I even tried losing!"

Tried losing? Tezuka can't shake the strong, immediate feeling that there is something very wrong about the way Yukimura just said that. "…excuse me?"

"Well, why not?" replies Yukimura straightforwardly. "I mean, it worked wonders for you."

Tezuka feels himself grow cold. The Child of God only has one recorded loss to his name, and that was against—

"That was on purpose?" he blurts out before he can check himself.

Yukimura chuckles. "You make it sound like I threw the match," he says playfully. "Well, I suppose that there's no harm in telling you. After all, it doesn't matter anymore, right?"

(Like hell, it doesn't matter!)

"Please don't get me wrong," continues Yukimura seriously, and with troubling sincerity. "Your Echizen-kun is certainly very special. You probably know this better than anyone, Tezuka-kun, but there is no telling how far that boy will go. Renji predicts great things for him—"

Tezuka holds his breath.

"—but it isn't his time just yet. Echizen-kun surpassed my expectations of him, but when it comes to the final score..." He pauses. "Between you and me, I might have helped it along a little."

(Tezuka decides that the only logical explanation to all this is that at some point between now and his team losing the National Tournament, Yukimura must have gone off the deep end.)

"What did the members of your team have to say about this?" he can't help but to ask, because there is no way that Sanada or Yanagi or anyone remotely sane would ever endorse something so utterly irrational.

"Oh, they don't know," explains Yukimura cheerfully. "I was still supposed to be recovering from the surgery, so as far as they are concerned, we lost fair and square. And we did. Sort of. Anyway, since losing doesn't seem to have made much of a difference, what do you suggest I—"

"Yukimura-kun," interrupts Tezuka unceremoniously, "I am hanging up now."

And without waiting for a response, Tezuka switches off his phone. He then stands up and walks out of the room.

(He really needs to lie down.)

.

End Note: I really had a blast writing this one, but since I realize that (a) you readers don't live in my head and (b) a story made up of 99% conversation and 1% stream of consciousness isn't exactly helpful for comprehension, I hope to fill in any blanks here.

Firstly, just so we are all on the same page, this is a PARODY (containing a healthy dose of truth and serious concerns, mind you!) of the passionate, though mostly one-sided, rivalry going on between Tezuka and pretty much every single person in the PoT-universe. The intense interest in Tezuka fascinates me, especially seeing how Yukimura is supposed to be the Child of God which surely trumps being somebody's Pillar. In fact, the only notable character hell-bent on defeating Yukimura is Akaya (even Sanada and Echizen don't really count since both definitely seem to prioritize Tezuka), and to me that's just tarundoru!

Secondly, and I suppose it's pretty self-explanatory, but the title is a straight-up play on the 'Tezuka Zone', which attracts everything from tennis balls to comets from outer space.

Thirdly, the reason for Tezuka's mistaking Yukimura for Fuji is because both (along with Echizen and Kintarou) are voiced by female voice actresses. Not to be sexist or anything, but it gives their voices a softer, more youthful and arguably prettier sound. It also turned out to be a really convenient plot device, so there you go.

Fourthly, Tezuka's assuming that 'Fuji' wants to play tennis is an allusion to the real Fuji's massive bout of 'I-can't-take-tennis-seriously… or-can-I?' existential angst that spans most of the series. In my mind, Fuji's crouching bear, hidden dragonfly kind of wishy-washy attitude would have evolved into more of a Total Tennis sort of approach after his pivotal match against Shiraishi. On that note, I know that it seems like I bash him a lot, but I love Fuji. He's my favourite Seigaku-an, if only because he actually gets some decent character development (unlike, I don't know, Echizen who doesn't really change at all). He is also related to Yuuta, which definitely helps.

Finally, what can I say? I really wanted Yukimura to win that final. Like I really, really, really wanted him to win. So this is my cracktastic reason for why he didn't: it wasn't so much that Echizen was always destined to win no matter what, but that Yukimura deliberately lost in a misguided attempt to get some attention. That's it.

(Yup. I really am that shameless.)