special thanks to Rini, who pointed out that i didn't allow anonymous reviewers ^^ honestly, i didn't know it before now...
this goes out to friends who saw it posted at my lj. for apparently, the rome-burning did not ensue ^^ hopefully it doesn't embarrass you. i'm perfectly ready to take it down if it's much too OOC.
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is copyrighted to Konomi Takeshi.
Modulation
Atobe was flashy. He hid nothing. Every new possession had to be paraded, every new bit of knowledge haughtily slapped in the faces of inferiors. Discretion was not in his list of virtues.
He finally cornered Sanada successfully one particularly humid summer evening. And after that incident, the gloriously triumphant Atobe-sama started appearing at the doorway of the Rikkai high school's tennis club room, flaunting his right to extricate one of their star players without having to explain a damn thing.
Atobe knew that the Rikkai high school tennis club hated his guts. But there was a hint of wariness in their reception. Not unlike the heavy silence that came upon the Arisugawa tennis club during those rare times when Sanada appeared at their doorstep, asking for their captain.
In stark contrast to Atobe, Sanada was quiet, unobtrusive, rigidly polite. He avoided boasting, pondered his decisions carefully, and kept most of his opinions to himself. Perhaps the man was just naturally reserved...even if it kept him from gloating, bilking, and all the other attitudinal excesses that Atobe liked to roll around in.
But though he seemed laid back, Sanada was not to be expected to turn a blind eye to Atobe's antics. One had to watch one's words and moves around Sanada Genichirou. For if there was anything he hated with a passion, it was tactlessness...
Propriety was the only thing they ever fought about.
Atobe was free to say anything he wanted in public, of course -- except when it had to do with his and Sanada's personal affairs, seriously or in jest. Then the retaliation ranged from a minor staredown to a private thrashing. Though never severe, it was always humiliating. Sanada of the soft voice and heavy hand was never averse to leaving his marks on Atobe's tanned skin, painful reminders of silence.
Sanada also tolerated Atobe's flirtatious moods, but gave him hell for it in private -- if you could call four straight hours of mind-numbing pleasure hell. It was a sort of game for Atobe until the imprints Sanada left on his flesh became deep enough to burn for days. Then it was simply behave or break away.
It must be noted that the act of breaking away would involve entirely too much effort for Atobe to even consider.
Was it such a surprise, then, that whenever Rikkai's champion was around, the former blaze of Hyoutei hung his head and burned low?