2. Come on, come on, put your hands into the fire

Back in Junior High, rooftop garden remained closed for most part of Sanada's senior year, due to refurbishment works. They began after Yukimura's proposal, after National loss and all. As if he felt like he needed to leave a mark on that school which wasn't only loss, loss, loss. It was naive, and silly, but somehow Sanada could understand.

In High School, the rooftop was big, totally covered in earthenware tiles, and crowded.

Yukimura, Sanada and Yanagi managed to find a empty bench in the northern corner, right next to the elevator cab.

The others weren't there yet, as expected.

They sat down, but no-one started to eat. Yukimura was staring in the void, lost in one of his I'm-here-but-I'm-not moments. Sanada had learned to just wait for him to come back.

He bended his head behind, closed his eyes. The spring has just begun, the best days of the year for practice; not too hot, not too cold. Yanagi had checked the weather forecast for the entire week; apart from a cloudy Friday, the weather would be good.

«I will need your dictionary», Yukimura finally said. «From one of you. I couldn't find mine this morning. Probably someone borrowed it without asking. Again». He sighed. «Happen to have French, today?»

Sanada shook his head.

«I think Marui does», Yanagi answered. «You can ask him».

Yukimura nodded. He was playing with his chopsticks, rolling them with his fingers. This place was so noisy Sanada couldn't even hear when he tapped them on the lunchbox.

A couple of girls have brought a portable karaoke and they were playing not far from them. Five minutes. They weren't even in tune. Sanada pursed his lips. Five minutes, and then he would have stood up and threw that thing down the roof.

He glared at his lunchbox instead; he wasn't even hungry. He had barely slept - his niece had cried all night long - and for the first time in years he couldn't even find the strength to attend morning practice. He probably underestimated how much the fact he had to guide morning practice had been motivational for him. He forced people to do the same exercises for months and months, claiming they were useful. And they were indeed, but had got a totally different taste when they were compulsory because someone else were forcing you.

According to Yanagi, the Captain didn't show himself that morning too. Hongo were there again, watching practice from the bleachers.

He asked Yanagi if he thought that Hongo guy were collecting data. His friend said he didn't think so, but for sure the guy was observing them carefully. He didn't really know what to expect, and he hated that.

With Yanagi in their team, they always knew what to expect. Like the first time they met, the first time they played against each other; Sanada won, but not easily. Yanagi's ability to predict his moves after having seen them just once forced Sanada to fight for every single point. No-one before brought him this far, except Yukimura - and Tezuka, but he didn't want to think about Tezuka. He closed that chapter, sealed at the National Finals, his own victory despite their loss.

But now... not knowing wasn't good at all.

Sanada shrugged. Some guys had joined the girls with the karaoke, and now they were all screaming - it wasn't even singing anymore - some dumb western song.

«I'm giving you three more minutes», Yanagi smiled. «And twenty seconds. This is my estimated deadline of your patience».

Sanada snorted. «You're overestimating me».

It was inadmissible all that noise in a public space. The rooftop has to be a place for dining and relaxing, this was public nuisance.

«Let it be, Genichirou», Yukimura had opened his lunch box and started eating. «Have you planned to join the Cops Committee once more?»

«Disciplinary Committee», Sanada corrected him. He would never understand why Yukimura enjoyed this much teasing him about that. «And yes. Seems like this school really needs discipline».

«Is that Niou?», Yanagi asked, before Yukimura could reply.

«Woah. This place is so big», Marui appeared right after Niou, Jackal and Yagyuu just behind him. «But there are no plants. I liked the old one more. The girl who watered the plants was nice».

«You mean you convinced her to treat you food», Jackal added.

«...and there weren't so many people. What are they even singing over there? That's awful».

«I'm pretty sure there's a rule against screaming this loud on the roof». Yagyuu put his lunch on the bench near Sanada. «I'll drop them a word».

Better you than me, Sanada thought as Yagyuu left. One less annoyance for him.

Marui started to eat before he sat down. «Is that omelette?» He glanced at Jackal's box.

«My omelette», Jackal moved apart from his doubles partner, putting the box out of his reach.

Niou was eating a sandwich, standing by the wall. When Yagyuu came back - thankfully he managed to stop that terrible karaoke before it ended in murder - Yukimura was almost done with his lunch, and Marui managed to steal two slices of omelette and one of Yanagi's prawns.

Sanada started eating too. Finally that place was calm enough to not ruin his lunch.

«Renji and I had talked with the Vice-Captain yesterday». As usual, Yukimura went straight to the point. «He told us some information we thought you may be interested into, too».

«About tennis?», Marui asked, two grains of rice on his upper lip.

No-one bothered to answer.

«We asked him about the Captain, and the other regulars as well», Yukimura added. «He didn't really answer. To be honest, I had the general impression that there is a severe lack of organization in this club».

«Nothing that you can't fix, I guess». Niou let the last crumbles of his sandwich fall on the ground.

Yukimura smiled at him, but didn't answer.

Niou wasn't wrong, though. It wasn't difficult to guess that this was exactly what Yukimura was thinking. I could do it better. I will be better. He was just Yukimura's way, the same spirit in which he began his freshmen year in Junior High, with Sanada at his side. Time proved he was right.

«Apparently the Captain was busy with paperwork», Yanagi reprised.

Yagyuu nodded. «He was in his office, yesterday, as the Vice-Captain told me».

«Did he say something interesting?» Marui put away his empty lunchbox and started searching through his pockets.

«Define interesting», Yanagi tilted his head.

«Like, we'll have the Hunger Games to sort out the regulars. But we will play with plastic bows and arrows and squirt guns rather than real ones».

Sanada shook his head.

Yanagi smiled. «I'm afraid this wouldn't be useful to ascertain everyone's skills». He leafed through the pages. «Unless you add colored ink. That would make the results more accurate».

«And why did we never do that?»

«Because I've always found tennis matches even more accurate», Yukimura spoke, but he looked amused.

«So, what has Vice-Captain told you?», Yagyuu asked. He was eating slowly, stood next to Niou.

«As Seiichi said, not much about the team», Yanagi smoothed his shirt. «By chance, we will get to know the current regulars during this week's practice».

By chance. A curious choice of words, coming from Yanagi. According to Yukimura's plain face, he must have thought the same as Sanada's. How good could be a Tennis Club, if the regular players didn't even bother to show up to practice? The answer was nothing good.

«Did he tell you anything, then?» Niou glanced at Yukimura, his hands in the pockets.

«We asked about the ranking matches...»

«The Hunger Games!», Marui opened a bag of cookies and offered them around.

«...and apparently they will be held next week. They won't be much different than the ones we had back in Junior High».

«Like which ones?» Niou arched his eyebrow. «It wasn't like we had had ranking matches at all. You decided», he pointed his chin at Yukimura, «and that was all».

«I've never had the impression that our organization bothered you in any way», Yukimura replied, in a plain voice.

«It didn't». Niou lifted the corner of his mouth. «But still I wouldn't call them ranking matches».

«What kind of matches we are likely to expect?», Yagyuu asked.

«We could freely challenge the regulars for their spots», Yanagi glanced around. «The challenges will be permitted before every tournament».

«So, we beat them, and get their spot? Thanks, Bunta». Jackal accepted one of Marui's cookies. «Seems quite easy».

«Because it's not that easy», Yukimura smiled. «The matches are a possibility to prove yourself, to show your ability. But the final decision about the formation is up to the Captain».

«As expected», Niou crossed his arms to his chest. «Democracy doesn't belong to Rikkai».

«Democracy has proven to be ineffective more than once», Sanada glanced up. «But you're right. It doesn't belong to Rikkai».

«But it belongs to Seigaku. Or am I wrong?»

Yukimura glared at Niou, as to challenge him to go on.

«Yes, it does», Yanagi replied, calmly. «And I don't need to remind you, Niou, that they didn't win the Kantou Tournament fourteen times in a row. Neither they did win the Nationals two times in a row. I'm sure you're already aware of that».

«I am», Niou replied, without changing expression.

«So», Marui scratched the empty cookies package, «basically we have to show off in a match, like an exhibition, and the Captain watch and then decide?»

«So this is what that Hongo guy is doing», Sanada looked at Yanagi. «Evaluating us».

«This is my guess», Yanagi nodded. «I didn't asked directly, but my opinion is that his role is watching us to estimate our level. The probability that they will held different training schedules according to the result is very high».

Sanada nodded. They never did that, back in Junior High. There wasn't place for light training, in Rikkai. If someone didn't agree with their schedules, he could simply chose another club to get into. This was their way to encourage internal competition, instead of ranking matches. Ranking matches meant nothing. Hard work and constant victories meant everything.

And, obviously, losing was not permitted.

«So we're being watched like animals in a cage», Niou spoke.

Well, as a metaphor, it was indeed accurate.

They left the rooftop to came back to class. If the seniors wanted to watch, they would gave them something worth watching.


«We have 27 new freshmen, 11 juniors, 8 seniors».

Morimura Shinobu searched through a pile of papers. «They will be half at the end of the week. I asked Asou to tell them they have a deadline».

«Yeah, yeah». Hongo Yasuaki tapped his fingers on the doorjamb. «I'll wait for the training schedule for this week. I'm thinking about laps, swing, usual things. They'll be useful as a first selection. Half of them didn't last three laps in a row yesterday».

«Whatever you say. The other members can do free training on the courts, or use the gym. I've reserved it for tomorrow too. The regulars should be already there». At least, he hoped so.

«Okay». Hongo scratched his cheek. «I leave the rest to you, Captain. Still so much to do?»

«Until I'm done». So much. Too much. Definitely too much. Like an Amazonian Forest of paperwork. «Think about practice. Check with Asou as soon as you can».

«Roger».

Hongo was incapable to get out of a room without slamming the door. Morimura snorted, kneading the temples with his fingers. Paperwork was worse than 100 laps in a row. It was his second year dealing with that shit. The former year the Captain left all the registration work to him, trading himself a day off. Morimura could have done the same, but he had too much respect for Asou for using him as a secretary, and leaving it to Hongo was just insane. They guy would have probably burn all the forms and hid the ashes under the carpet.

He was perfect when he needed someone to made the practice schedule be respected, but he wouldn't leave to him any kind of organization. He probably would end up supervising the practice of the Baseball recruits in the swimming pool.

He rubbed his eyes. For every new member he needed to copy the forms, and then make a list for the uniforms, and then check the equipment and the spare rackets and balls, and then prepare the training schedules... The girls' club Captain has called him three times to talk about the equipment and the gym last week. Morimura suspected her strategy was taking him for exhaustion. She definitely underestimated him, then.

Someone knocked the door. Morimura cursed through his teeth. He hated that work, but it needed to be done, and how could he do it, if there was a distraction behind the other? «Come in».

«Captain». Hongo's head appeared behind the door. «There's this girl here. She wants to talk to you». He lowered his voice until he whispered. «She could be the solution to all your problems».

«A slave-robot programmed to do paperwork?»

Hongo smiled, then disappeared to let a girl come in. Bam! He needed to teach that idiot how to close doors, or he would have killed him before summer comes.

«Good afternoon». The girl approached the desk, glancing at the pile of paper with a smile.

«Good afternoon». Morimura pointed the chair in front of the desk. «How can I help you?»

«You're the Captain, right, Senpai

He nodded. «Again, how can I help you?»

«I'm Matsui, I'm a first year. I'd want to sign up as Tennis Club Manager».

Morimura frowned. He shook his head. «We don't need a Manager, Matsui-san. We never had a Manager in the Tennis Club. It's not our policy».

This wasn't actually true. During his freshmen year, the Captain at the time asked a girl he wanted to date to became their manager, and all she could do was building a black market of the regulars' photos taken in the locker room. The memory was still irritating. Surely, not because there was still a photo of him in Doraemon's boxer shorts wandering around at school. Not for that.

«And what's your policy?», she asked. She grabbed a couple of forms. «Doing all the paperwork by yourself?»

He grabbed the sheets back. «I didn't allow you to take them».

«Are they the registration forms, right?», she looked at them. «I can help you with those. I've organized them a lot of times, I know them by heart. Well, I guess they're not identical everywhere, but hey, how different could they be?» She arched her bows. «Unless they include some weird provisions. Once a guy changed the girl's soccer club forms, inserting a provision which forced the girls to have practice in bikini and...»

«We don't need a manager», Morimura refrain himself to slam the hands on the table. «You can leave».

She pledged her head, smiled again. «I make delicious lemon cake, and I'm fast as hell in paperwork. Well, my handwriting is pitiful, Fukushi-sensei always said my kanji were more similar to...»

«Matsui-san».

«...well, whatever. You'd actually be able to read them. If I must, I can write everything in hiragana».

Morimura massaged his temples. «If you're trying to convince me by exhaustion, you took the wrong person».

«Well, you can just give me a try». She smiled again. «If I screw up, you can kick me out. But I won't. I've already did it plenty of times. I'm more useful than a coffee pot».

Morimura was tempted. He glanced the tons of paperwork still to be done. Maybe he could let her do it, and then kick her out with an excuse. He could hardly understand how someone could have been so delighted to waste an afternoon with admission forms, anyway.

He rubbed his hair, then sighed. Matsui opened her mouth to add something, Morimura raised his hand to stop her.

«Take one of them. The names are on this list. If you need to ask something, do it now».

«Got it!» With a rather creepy smile, she uncapped a pen and started to write.

World is full of fools, Morimura thought, and went back to his work.


«I'll have a glance out there».

Matsui nodded. This girl was something like evil. She had already finished half of the forms by herself; Morimura checked some of them, and there was nothing wrong. Her handwriting was terrible indeed, but not hard to understand.

He could leave the rest of the work to her without remorse, and instead go checking the new recruits and perhaps joining the other regulars and have at least half an hour in the gym before heading home.

He took his whistle and glanced at the training schedule. It was only basic program, to test the new recruits. Most of them couldn't even complete ten laps in a row without collapsing on the ground.

Two years before, Morimura would have considered that as a defeat, but then he had seen Asou starting from zero and becoming one of the best players in the team, and he understood nothing could have been foreseen for certain. Anyone deserved a chance, having them the right willpower. Tenacity. Attitude. That was what he was looking for.

Quite funny, too, since half of the regulars attended one practice every three, the previous year. Another thing in force to be changed.

«Ohi, Captain!»

Hongo was still watching the practice from the bleachers. Wrong. He was playing Candy Crush while pretending to watch over practice. Morimura took his phone away, switched off the screen.

«Shit». Hongo took his phone back. «I was on a new record».

«Wanna reach a new laps record, too?», Morimura asked.

Hongo got the hint, put the phone in the jacket's pocket. «It's boring», he whined. «They're all quite good».

«All quite good is far the count of information I asked you to gather», Morimura said. «I gave you instructions clear enough».

«Sort them in groups according to their skills, yeah, yeah, I know. I just thought to watch them through practice and then ask».

«I asked you to observe them and then sort them in groups». Morimura went through all the reasons why he thought he was suited for that role. He couldn't remember a single one. «Did you observe them?»

«It's hard to sort them off». Hongo's hand went to the phone again. Morimura's glare stopped it outside the pocket. «They all look the same».

Morimura counted to ten, naming all the members that could've been better suited for that than Hongo. Oh, yes. No-one else. He prevented himself to curse.

«Make them wear a number on the uniforms if you must. Be creative. I just need the results».

«Hardly a difficult task, for some of them». Hongo pointed his head to a group of students under the bleachers. «Those ones couldn't even keep the racket on anymore. Their grips are all wrong. One is for sure from baseball's club, but he didn't realize the racket is not a bat. I bet three nikuman they don't even know how to hit the ball».

Morimura nodded. The guys seemed exhausted, one was probably sleeping on the ground.

«Sort them in group A. Beginners. Asou is arranging a schedule for those who make it through the first week». Experience said it was a low percentage. His freshmen year they started as forty-two. There were only nineteen left.

«And why couldn't be Asou here watching for the recruits?» Hongo managed to reach his phone again. «Maybe I could help you with the schedules, and he would deal with the sorting stuff».

Morimura simply stared at him. Hongo understood. The idea to leave him with the responsibility of the schedules was pure fantasy. «You'll be the one who assured they'll be followed properly. Leave the rest to us».

Hongo shrugged. «Hey, d'you left Candy Candy with paperwork? Thought you had enough to make the night».

Morimura didn't bother himself to make him notice he could've offered his helping hand. He clearly knew how he could expect from Hongo, and spontaneous help wasn't in the list.

«She's doing well for now. She said she had experience. If she really could manage with paperwork and administration stuff, we could even keep her. If she doesn't screw everything up».

«Like Doraemon-screw-up?»

«I can't remember asking you anything, Hongo».

«Okay». The asshole smiled slyly. Too bad that between Captain's right wasn't the one to punch the other regulars in the guts. «Ohi, look. Nobita at hour Nine».

Morimura turned. «What are you talking... Ah. Hongo-kun. Those may be hour Three».

«Wait, is there any difference? I thought it was just a sayin'».

Morimura didn't answer. A freshmen guy was approaching, the racket swinging at his side.

«Can I help you?»

«Captain Morimura?»

«Yes», he confirmed. «Can I help you?»

«Why did you interrupt your training?», Hongo asked. It was quite amusing watching him pretend to care, just for the sake of bullying.

«I didn't interrupt it», the guy replied. «I'm done with my schedule».

«If you want some extra work, you just have to ask», Hongo said. «Wait, what do you mean you're done with the schedule?»

Morimura looked at him. If the guy wasn't lying, it was impressive. It was done with a two-hour schedule in less than an hour. To most of the new recruits, if they managed to reach the end, it took twice the time elapsed.

«Group C, then. I guess you already have experience, right?» The guy nodded. «So your choices are, you can go home, or pick someone and have free training on the courts».

«I want a match», he replied.

«Well, as I said, you can choose someone who...»

«A match with you». The guy looked him right in the eyes.

Morimura stopped. Then smiled. «You can start avoiding to interrupt me while I'm talking. Is that clear?»

«Yes, Captain». The guy nodded, but did not low his gaze.

«Then, fly down, kid», Hongo interrupted. He had already opened Candy Crush again. Morimura prevent himself to set the phone down of the bleachers. Maybe along with his owner. «The ranking matches will be held soon. If you're masochist enough to challenge the Captain, you can do that then».

«Thank you». Morimura guessed his tone was eloquent enough for Hongo. The guy shrugged, but shut his damn mouth. He turned to the guy. «He is right. Internal challenges will be free, in few days, for defined times. We want a precise idea of players' capacity at first, to sort the ones who want a competitive training, and the ones who are here just to play. Rikkai's rule is based on differentiated programs, to take out the best from everyone. Once the program is started, everyone's position in the club will be clearer».

The guy nodded again. Morimura opened his mouth to greet him away.

«I can tell you from now. I'm suited for competitive. I can challenge you now».

Hongo snorted. «Look, honey pie, we...»

«Language, Hongo». Morimura crossed his arms. He looked down to the guy again. He had an interesting gaze. Morimura should have sent him to do fifty or sixty laps for impertinence, but well, why not? If he really wanted a challenge, he could have got it. Starting the new year showing the recruits what really meant to enter Rikkai Tennis Club could have been a good idea. «What's your name?»

«Yukimura Seiichi», the kid answered, and smiled. It wasn't a really kind smile, though. More a challenging one.

Yukimura Seiichi... he had already heard it. He probably came from Rikkai Junior High tennis team, he guessed.

«Fine, then», Morimura said. «Wait for me at Court 1. Hongo, you're to referee».

Yukimura nodded and got away, not without a satisfied smile. If he would've kept it, was all to see.

«Are you fucking serious?», Hongo turned towards him. «Captain Shibata would have sent him down the bleachers with a kick in his...»

«I am Captain now», Morimura replied, coldly. Comparisons with the former Captain was the last thing he needed. I'm Captain now. And his would have been the rules. He wanted to play.

«Get ready. I'm taking the racket».

Hongo didn't add anything, but Morimura felt his gaze on him. Well, screw him. He could think what the hell he wanted. He would have got his part, too, soon.


...


Oh well. Here we go.

I hope the first OCs introduction didn't come out too confusing. If there's something blurry, please tell me. Thanks to everyone who has followed/faved this story, that means a lot to me! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter too!

Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi

Come on, come on, put your hands into the fire [Thirteen Senses - Into the Fire]