Aishuu Offers:
Dross
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Konomi-sensei, manga-ka!
Notes: Eiji muse has run away with me, so this looks like it might become a bit longer than I anticipated. O/K and some T/F.
~*~*~*~
Part Five: Where Did I Lose You
~*~*~*~
They seemed so young.
It was the first thought that crossed Oishi's mind as he stared at the current Seigaku middle school team. We were once that young, he reminded himself. Now, they were all men fighting thirty and on the verge of losing, staring through the fence thoughtfully at the courts that had once been their reason for living.
Kikumaru stood next to him, his hands shoved into the light spring jacket he had donned before leaving, his expression thoughtful as he watched the team go through a drill that looked very like one that Inui had invented long ago. "We had fun, didn't we?" he asked wistfully.
"We did," Oishi agreed softly. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Tezuka studying the boy who was most likely the current captain intently, a slight frown on his face. "I'm sure they're not as good as we were."
"Do you still play?" Kawamura asked from where he was standing at the end of the line, next to Fuji, whose expression was still fixed in a pleasant smile. "I want to teach Ichirou, but I haven't held a racquet in years. No time."
Fuji placed a hand on Kawamura's shoulder reassuringly. "We'll find time," he promised. "I need to visit soon, and that sounds like a good activity — there's nothing I'd rather do than teach your son how to play."
"I'm sending my children here," Kawamura said. "I want them to have the same kind of memories and make the same kind of friends."
Oishi felt his own hand being squeezed gently, and turned to see Kikumaru grinning at him, his grip firm and warm. The hands didn't have the calluses Oishi remembered, but then neither did his. His fingers wrapped around Kikumaru's as he studied the court.
He could almost hear Tezuka ordering them to run twenty laps...
...wait a second, Tezuka was saying that.
"Twenty laps around the court, Momoshiro!"
Their eyes all swiveled to Tezuka, who was standing with his arms over his chest, the posture he had worn whenever he ordered punishment laps. A slight smile tugged at his lips, but that was the only sign he was joking.
"H-hai, buchou!" a voice stuttered reflectively, and Oishi's eyes were drawn across the court to where a young man in a track suit had jerked to attention. Then apparently his thoughts caught up with his mouth, and he whirled around, frowning as the kids laughed at seeing their coach act like a school boy.
"Tezuka-buchou?" he said in disbelief. Momoshiro stared at the line of men along the far fence, rubbed his eyes once, before a grin broke out on his features. "You guys came!"
The students hushed as their coach turned and looked at them. "These are my senpai," he said. "If you practice really hard, you might get to be nearly as good as they were."
Kikumaru bounced over to Tezuka and draped an arm around his captain, grinning up at the taller man. Oishi tried not to miss the warmth of the redhead's hand as he watched his former partner tease the lawyer. "That nearly was funny."
"How do you know I wasn't serious?"
"Nyah! Such a party pooper, buchou!"
They made their way around the court, feeling all eyes on them as they finally reached the entrance. Momoshiro walked over at an unhurried pace and Kikumaru untangled himself from Tezuka before launching himself at Momoshiro, practically tackling the younger man in a hug that rocked him off his feet.
"Eiji-senpai!" Momoshiro said, and the hug was full-heartedly returned. "How have you been?"
Kikumaru began to talk, his hands flying as he pulled back, and Oishi let himself drift, pretending just for a moment that they were back in middle school, and Kaidou and Ryoma were just around the corner, being their usual anti-social selves. Any moment now Tezuka would order them all together for a drill or practice matches, and Momoshiro and Kikumaru would stop horsing around and become serious, determined to beat whoever was the rival of that particular time... Fudoumine or Hyotei or Rikkai or whoever it was. They would win, because things were simple like that, and they were the good guys.
He was doing that a lot lately, pretending.
Why was that? he wondered, but then smiled as Kikumaru waved a finger in Momoshiro's face reprimanding.
It was Momoshiro this time who reminded him that those times were long gone. He raked a band through hair which was so short Oishi could see his scalp and turned to the young teens who were still gawking at them. "Yo, chibis! C'mere!"
The players came from all over the court, and to Oishi's amazement, formed neat enough lines. He'd never really thought of Momoshiro as the authority type, but hadn't they all done the same for Ryuuzaki? He chided himself for lack of faith in his kohai, realizing that Momoshiro must have earned the teenager's respect many times over.
He would have had to, to coach Seigaku.
One of them, wearing a regular's jersey, approached Momoshiro. He was a bit shorter than five and a half feet tall, but serious eyes regarded the intruders from under black hair that was just a touch too long. The boy paused a respectful three feet short of their group, his hand loosely gripping a racket as he examined them.
This was obviously the current captain. There was an aura about him, one which Tezuka still wore like a cloak, that breathed authority, and from the way the others were casting slight looks at him, it was clear that they would follow this boy's lead.
"Suzuki Kimihiro, the current captain of Seigaku," Momoshiro said, and the smile that tugged on his lips was the one that had made him known as Seigaku's rascal in his time. "Meet your senpai."
Suzuki bowed, a precise genuflection that was just deep enough for respect but nothing more. Inui smirked a bit, and Kikumaru choked back a laugh.
"It's an honor to meet you," he said. "Momo-sensei?" he asked, and the slight question in his voice made it clear he was wondering what they were doing here.
"Their class is holding a reunion, and I invited them over to demonstrate a few things," Momoshiro said, a wicked light in his eye. "Maybe if you guys pay attention, you might beat Rikkai this year. God, I want to beat them..."
"Demonstrate?" Oishi choked, looking over at the others to see if they had known.
Predictably, only Inui looked like he was in on the plan, but Fuji and Tezuka were unruffled, and Kikumaru was excited. Leaving him and Kawamura to be the voices of reason...
...until Momoshiro shoved a racket into Kawamura's hand.
"Come ON baby! It's time to show these weak little boys what tennis is about! BURNING!"
Everyone stepped back, and Oishi sighed, feeling himself opened wide to humiliation. "This isn't a good idea..."
"Weren't we going to play anyway?" Kikumaru said, and suddenly he was back, tugging on Oishi's hands. "C'mon, think of it! The Golden Pair, together again!"
"I only play on the weekends, and..." Oishi began to hem, but Kikumaru wasn't having any of it.
"I want to play with you again," he said, and his lip firmed in a stubborn fashion. "You were the best partner I ever had."
Tezuka and Fuji were already stripping off their jackets, and a snickering Momoshiro was gesturing to some of his players to hand over their rackets. A boy, who looked barely old enough to be a first year, came up to Oishi and offered his racket, his eyes a bit wide. "Here you go," he said, a slight tremor in his voice.
He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he accepted it, noting the "T" it was emblazoned with. His racket was back at his apartment, worn well to his hand, and he knew that this one would probably feel awkward.
Kikumaru turned to the child who had offered him a racket, began a chipper conversation about grip tape and string tension, and Oishi stared at him, watching how the youth relaxed within moments of Kikumaru's long babbling spiel.
"He's good with kids, isn't he?" Fuji said, materializing right beside Oishi.
Oishi was still uneasy around Fuji, and hoped it didn't show as he gave a weak smile. A few other first years were starting to gather around the red head, who was cheerfully offering advice and answering questions. "He's always been good with those who are younger than he was — probably because he acts younger than he is. The eternal Peter Pan..."
Fuji sighed softly. "Are you seeing what's there, or what you want to see?"
Oishi blinked, turning to the tensai. "What..."
"The Kikumaru you're seeing right now isn't all in your head," Fuji said softly. "Even Eiji had to grow up, and it was harder for him than the rest of us, because he wasn't prepared how cruel the real world can be."
"W-what?" Oishi stuttered.
"Stop looking for what you want to see, and start looking at the truth," Fuji advised quietly. His eyes were open, and he turned away, calling to Kawamura. "Taka-san, do you want to play doubles? Oishi and Eiji are going to need someone to play against..."
Kikumaru grinned and gave Fuji a thumbs-up. "I'm going to show them my acrobatics!" he said cheerily.
Patterns were what Fuji had been warning Oishi about falling into, but as he took the court behind Kikumaru, he couldn't help but watch in satisfaction as his partner took the middle position, bending low.
Australian formation, something they had done time and time again. Fuji and Kawamura, on the other side of the net, seemed a bit disconcerted that the Golden Pair was starting out like this, still completely trusting the other, but Fuji's serve wasn't as all hesitant.
And then he was falling into the past, and there was nothing but tennis and his partner, and knowing that they were the Golden Pair, and that they never lost, not when it really mattered... Oishi knew where Kikumaru would be, better than he had anyone else he'd played with since. Kikumaru was still quick on his feet, and the two Kikumaru beams he had launched were devastating.
It wasn't that Fuji and Kawamura were poor opponents — hardly that. But they were the Golden Pair, and no one could beat them, not when they were...
Oishi frowned as he noticed Kikumaru return one of Kawamura's heavy shots. The chef was remembering how to play quickly, and with Fuji to cover, it was clear that they were still viable as players...
But something about Kikumaru's footwork seemed off. Oishi watched Kikumaru return the next two volleys before it slowly dawned on him. For some reason, Kikumaru wasn't flying anymore.
He remembered the times that Kikumaru had been worn down by worthy opponents, but this wasn't the same. Kikumaru seemed more cautious, as though afraid to commit himself to the splendid feats of showmanship that had been so much a part of his style. They were still there, in more restrained fashioned, but Kikumaru's feet seemed to have forgotten the joy he had always embodied to Oishi.
As they played, Oishi realized that something had to have changed, deeply, for Kikumaru to forget how free the air made him feel.
They won that game, but as they went to the sidelines to accept the towels that were being eagerly proffered.
"Water?" Oishi offered, holding out the water bottle he'd been given and trying to ask Kikumaru with his eyes what was wrong. Once they had been able to talk like that, by merely changing expression, and if Kikumaru hadn't changed that much, he would know...
Kikumaru saw Oishi's concern, and his lips tightened for a second before a smile bloomed on his face. "I have my own!" Kikumaru said cheerfully. "Thanks, though!"
It felt like being slugged in the stomach. For the first time ever, Kikumaru Eiji had deliberately shut Oishi Syuichiroh out.
Dross
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Konomi-sensei, manga-ka!
Notes: Eiji muse has run away with me, so this looks like it might become a bit longer than I anticipated. O/K and some T/F.
~*~*~*~
Part Five: Where Did I Lose You
~*~*~*~
They seemed so young.
It was the first thought that crossed Oishi's mind as he stared at the current Seigaku middle school team. We were once that young, he reminded himself. Now, they were all men fighting thirty and on the verge of losing, staring through the fence thoughtfully at the courts that had once been their reason for living.
Kikumaru stood next to him, his hands shoved into the light spring jacket he had donned before leaving, his expression thoughtful as he watched the team go through a drill that looked very like one that Inui had invented long ago. "We had fun, didn't we?" he asked wistfully.
"We did," Oishi agreed softly. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Tezuka studying the boy who was most likely the current captain intently, a slight frown on his face. "I'm sure they're not as good as we were."
"Do you still play?" Kawamura asked from where he was standing at the end of the line, next to Fuji, whose expression was still fixed in a pleasant smile. "I want to teach Ichirou, but I haven't held a racquet in years. No time."
Fuji placed a hand on Kawamura's shoulder reassuringly. "We'll find time," he promised. "I need to visit soon, and that sounds like a good activity — there's nothing I'd rather do than teach your son how to play."
"I'm sending my children here," Kawamura said. "I want them to have the same kind of memories and make the same kind of friends."
Oishi felt his own hand being squeezed gently, and turned to see Kikumaru grinning at him, his grip firm and warm. The hands didn't have the calluses Oishi remembered, but then neither did his. His fingers wrapped around Kikumaru's as he studied the court.
He could almost hear Tezuka ordering them to run twenty laps...
...wait a second, Tezuka was saying that.
"Twenty laps around the court, Momoshiro!"
Their eyes all swiveled to Tezuka, who was standing with his arms over his chest, the posture he had worn whenever he ordered punishment laps. A slight smile tugged at his lips, but that was the only sign he was joking.
"H-hai, buchou!" a voice stuttered reflectively, and Oishi's eyes were drawn across the court to where a young man in a track suit had jerked to attention. Then apparently his thoughts caught up with his mouth, and he whirled around, frowning as the kids laughed at seeing their coach act like a school boy.
"Tezuka-buchou?" he said in disbelief. Momoshiro stared at the line of men along the far fence, rubbed his eyes once, before a grin broke out on his features. "You guys came!"
The students hushed as their coach turned and looked at them. "These are my senpai," he said. "If you practice really hard, you might get to be nearly as good as they were."
Kikumaru bounced over to Tezuka and draped an arm around his captain, grinning up at the taller man. Oishi tried not to miss the warmth of the redhead's hand as he watched his former partner tease the lawyer. "That nearly was funny."
"How do you know I wasn't serious?"
"Nyah! Such a party pooper, buchou!"
They made their way around the court, feeling all eyes on them as they finally reached the entrance. Momoshiro walked over at an unhurried pace and Kikumaru untangled himself from Tezuka before launching himself at Momoshiro, practically tackling the younger man in a hug that rocked him off his feet.
"Eiji-senpai!" Momoshiro said, and the hug was full-heartedly returned. "How have you been?"
Kikumaru began to talk, his hands flying as he pulled back, and Oishi let himself drift, pretending just for a moment that they were back in middle school, and Kaidou and Ryoma were just around the corner, being their usual anti-social selves. Any moment now Tezuka would order them all together for a drill or practice matches, and Momoshiro and Kikumaru would stop horsing around and become serious, determined to beat whoever was the rival of that particular time... Fudoumine or Hyotei or Rikkai or whoever it was. They would win, because things were simple like that, and they were the good guys.
He was doing that a lot lately, pretending.
Why was that? he wondered, but then smiled as Kikumaru waved a finger in Momoshiro's face reprimanding.
It was Momoshiro this time who reminded him that those times were long gone. He raked a band through hair which was so short Oishi could see his scalp and turned to the young teens who were still gawking at them. "Yo, chibis! C'mere!"
The players came from all over the court, and to Oishi's amazement, formed neat enough lines. He'd never really thought of Momoshiro as the authority type, but hadn't they all done the same for Ryuuzaki? He chided himself for lack of faith in his kohai, realizing that Momoshiro must have earned the teenager's respect many times over.
He would have had to, to coach Seigaku.
One of them, wearing a regular's jersey, approached Momoshiro. He was a bit shorter than five and a half feet tall, but serious eyes regarded the intruders from under black hair that was just a touch too long. The boy paused a respectful three feet short of their group, his hand loosely gripping a racket as he examined them.
This was obviously the current captain. There was an aura about him, one which Tezuka still wore like a cloak, that breathed authority, and from the way the others were casting slight looks at him, it was clear that they would follow this boy's lead.
"Suzuki Kimihiro, the current captain of Seigaku," Momoshiro said, and the smile that tugged on his lips was the one that had made him known as Seigaku's rascal in his time. "Meet your senpai."
Suzuki bowed, a precise genuflection that was just deep enough for respect but nothing more. Inui smirked a bit, and Kikumaru choked back a laugh.
"It's an honor to meet you," he said. "Momo-sensei?" he asked, and the slight question in his voice made it clear he was wondering what they were doing here.
"Their class is holding a reunion, and I invited them over to demonstrate a few things," Momoshiro said, a wicked light in his eye. "Maybe if you guys pay attention, you might beat Rikkai this year. God, I want to beat them..."
"Demonstrate?" Oishi choked, looking over at the others to see if they had known.
Predictably, only Inui looked like he was in on the plan, but Fuji and Tezuka were unruffled, and Kikumaru was excited. Leaving him and Kawamura to be the voices of reason...
...until Momoshiro shoved a racket into Kawamura's hand.
"Come ON baby! It's time to show these weak little boys what tennis is about! BURNING!"
Everyone stepped back, and Oishi sighed, feeling himself opened wide to humiliation. "This isn't a good idea..."
"Weren't we going to play anyway?" Kikumaru said, and suddenly he was back, tugging on Oishi's hands. "C'mon, think of it! The Golden Pair, together again!"
"I only play on the weekends, and..." Oishi began to hem, but Kikumaru wasn't having any of it.
"I want to play with you again," he said, and his lip firmed in a stubborn fashion. "You were the best partner I ever had."
Tezuka and Fuji were already stripping off their jackets, and a snickering Momoshiro was gesturing to some of his players to hand over their rackets. A boy, who looked barely old enough to be a first year, came up to Oishi and offered his racket, his eyes a bit wide. "Here you go," he said, a slight tremor in his voice.
He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he accepted it, noting the "T" it was emblazoned with. His racket was back at his apartment, worn well to his hand, and he knew that this one would probably feel awkward.
Kikumaru turned to the child who had offered him a racket, began a chipper conversation about grip tape and string tension, and Oishi stared at him, watching how the youth relaxed within moments of Kikumaru's long babbling spiel.
"He's good with kids, isn't he?" Fuji said, materializing right beside Oishi.
Oishi was still uneasy around Fuji, and hoped it didn't show as he gave a weak smile. A few other first years were starting to gather around the red head, who was cheerfully offering advice and answering questions. "He's always been good with those who are younger than he was — probably because he acts younger than he is. The eternal Peter Pan..."
Fuji sighed softly. "Are you seeing what's there, or what you want to see?"
Oishi blinked, turning to the tensai. "What..."
"The Kikumaru you're seeing right now isn't all in your head," Fuji said softly. "Even Eiji had to grow up, and it was harder for him than the rest of us, because he wasn't prepared how cruel the real world can be."
"W-what?" Oishi stuttered.
"Stop looking for what you want to see, and start looking at the truth," Fuji advised quietly. His eyes were open, and he turned away, calling to Kawamura. "Taka-san, do you want to play doubles? Oishi and Eiji are going to need someone to play against..."
Kikumaru grinned and gave Fuji a thumbs-up. "I'm going to show them my acrobatics!" he said cheerily.
Patterns were what Fuji had been warning Oishi about falling into, but as he took the court behind Kikumaru, he couldn't help but watch in satisfaction as his partner took the middle position, bending low.
Australian formation, something they had done time and time again. Fuji and Kawamura, on the other side of the net, seemed a bit disconcerted that the Golden Pair was starting out like this, still completely trusting the other, but Fuji's serve wasn't as all hesitant.
And then he was falling into the past, and there was nothing but tennis and his partner, and knowing that they were the Golden Pair, and that they never lost, not when it really mattered... Oishi knew where Kikumaru would be, better than he had anyone else he'd played with since. Kikumaru was still quick on his feet, and the two Kikumaru beams he had launched were devastating.
It wasn't that Fuji and Kawamura were poor opponents — hardly that. But they were the Golden Pair, and no one could beat them, not when they were...
Oishi frowned as he noticed Kikumaru return one of Kawamura's heavy shots. The chef was remembering how to play quickly, and with Fuji to cover, it was clear that they were still viable as players...
But something about Kikumaru's footwork seemed off. Oishi watched Kikumaru return the next two volleys before it slowly dawned on him. For some reason, Kikumaru wasn't flying anymore.
He remembered the times that Kikumaru had been worn down by worthy opponents, but this wasn't the same. Kikumaru seemed more cautious, as though afraid to commit himself to the splendid feats of showmanship that had been so much a part of his style. They were still there, in more restrained fashioned, but Kikumaru's feet seemed to have forgotten the joy he had always embodied to Oishi.
As they played, Oishi realized that something had to have changed, deeply, for Kikumaru to forget how free the air made him feel.
They won that game, but as they went to the sidelines to accept the towels that were being eagerly proffered.
"Water?" Oishi offered, holding out the water bottle he'd been given and trying to ask Kikumaru with his eyes what was wrong. Once they had been able to talk like that, by merely changing expression, and if Kikumaru hadn't changed that much, he would know...
Kikumaru saw Oishi's concern, and his lips tightened for a second before a smile bloomed on his face. "I have my own!" Kikumaru said cheerfully. "Thanks, though!"
It felt like being slugged in the stomach. For the first time ever, Kikumaru Eiji had deliberately shut Oishi Syuichiroh out.