Disclaimer: Tennis no Ohjisama is the property of Konomi Takeshi and its licensers.
Author's Notes: This is written for Noel.
Poursuivre
By CalicoKitten
Close the door.
He chose a different path to follow home that day. A few twists and turns, and nowhere near his house, but that didn't matter.
Several buildings passed by him as he walked along, each one eerily similar in outward appearances. Similar, even, to a recognizable home he'd seen for a short time now.
Practically identical, he thought, and dismissed it immediately.
Lock it, please.
I think I do find it irritating.
Just slightly, of course, because I don't want to dwell on things like that.
Atobe notices, obviously. Despite being egocentric and abnormally wealthy, he is Sakaki's choice as the captain of Hyotei's tennis team, and with good reason.
However, there's no doubt that he does it to annoy me.
Perhaps this is why I find my composure stiffening, if that's the right term I'm searching for.
"Hello, Oshitari-kun!"
I manage to keep myself from frowning at the bright greeting and cheerful expression on that masked face.
"Fuji," I say and note with no real concern that I've neglected to add the honorific to the end of his name. He doesn't seem to care.
He never seems to care.
Why do you keep following me?
A second later, I realize that I've said my thought out loud.
His brow furrows faintly, something that I would never have caught before. The bag hanging precariously off his shoulder is shifted, and he looks thoughtful.
"Ne, Oshitari..."
"Yes?" I reply politely. Secretly, I am glad that he doesn't pursue my question.
"I don't think that I look forward to playing any more matches with you."
His sentence strikes me as odd, but then again, he always speaks in that manner. In riddles, in fun, in humor, in half-truths. Sometimes I think that's where we have the most in common. He reminds me of me, in a way.
Just a bit, however. It would be a lie to say otherwise, just as it wouldn't be a lie to say that as much as I should regret it, I find myself attracted to him. Not just because he's one of the few that has beaten me in singles, but because he's alluring. I really don't know why, and I would rather not waste time listing the things about him that appeal to me.
I suppose some would say I resemble Atobe with his penchant for collecting pretty, forbidden objects.
I should hope not, however.
"Is that so?" I ask him, pushing at my glasses idly.
He blinks once, and then stares at me for some time. I can feel myself being dissected under his gaze, prodded by some invisible hand.
It's funny how much he wants to observe me now, even when he had the opportunity days ago and never took it.
"Do you want to go to my house today?" he inquires, and I stop myself from making any unwarranted assumptions on the nature of his invitation.
He tilts his head, and I resist tilting my own.
"If you want me to."
No guests today.
Atobe would never say it out loud, but we all knew. Why else would he insist that we keep responding graciously to Seigaku's requests of training, then?
It didn't help matters that this time, the object of his desires was actually present. It served as a bit of amusement to Gakuto and me until he shot us a look that promised thousands of laps until we quieted.
"It makes sense that your captain likes our own," Fuji tells me when my doubles match is finished.
Somewhere along the road, Seigaku's tennis prodigy and I seem to have acquired a taste for leisurely chitchat with each other. Not that I mind, though. It's a nice change of pace from Gakuto's insistent whines, although I would never tell him that.
"Atobe has always been fond of pretty things," I respond carelessly.
I feel his smile grow wider. He doesn't take the comment as an insult to his captain like most people would.
"And are you fond of pretty things, too?"
My eyebrow lifts at the question. Trust him to ask something like that. "I don't think I would phrase it quite that way."
Would you set another plate?
"Pretty things can be deceptive, anyway" I add, and feel his sharp gaze turn in my direction.
Another day.
I don't quite remember how we ended up at my house. Actually, that's partially a lie. I do recall walking side by side with him, and what happened to cause that, but I don't particularly know why I said it. I only remember that Atobe didn't seem too pleased that day.
"Oh, I thought you offered me a ride today, Atobe," I said carelessly, interrupting the conversation between the two captains. A sideways glance at Fuji, and he smiled at me before heading over.
Atobe frowned at me. The tiny crease between his eyebrows told me that I shouldn't go further.
"I don't seem to remember you asking me, Oshitari."
"You don't?" Fuji asked, slipping an arm onto my shoulder and leaning against it casually. "But I was there when you said yes. You even offered to give me a ride today, too."
We traded smirks when Atobe's smile twitched slightly and the hand holding his tennis bag turned white. He gave me a glare. I was only a little insulted that he chose to send it to me rather than the rival team's tennis prodigy. Tossing his hair back, he opened his mouth to speak, but Tezuka beat him to it.
"Thank you for offering to drive me home, but I don't want to be an inconvenience, and I live too far away for you to go to any trouble."
At his words, Atobe shot me yet another glare full of death and running, and he waved his hand in dismissal. His eyes narrowed. I simply smiled.
"No, no. I already offered. It would be rude of you not to accept my offer."
"Yes, but you're already taking home two other people."
He gestured towards Fuji and me. Atobe glowered once more, turned to face away from Tezuka, and mouthed, "Take care of this now, or you won't be able to walk after I make you run a thousand laps tomorrow."
"Ah," I said hastily. As much as teasing Atobe amuses me, the prospect of several hundreds of laps does not appeal to me. "Actually, Atobe, I don't think I need a ride after all. Fuji and I were just about to take a walk; I completely forgot about it."
"I was kind of wondering if you did," Fuji added smoothly, winking at me. "We were going to stop by that bakery for a snack. But sushi with lots of wasabi is so much better, ne, Atobe?"
Atobe looked a little repulsed at the thought of wasabi, but he didn't let that deter him from flashing Tezuka a megawatt smile.
"See? I knew things would work out." He snapped his fingers once, and the chauffeur of his expensive car came out, put his – and Tezuka's – equipment into the trunk of the car, and opened the door to the passenger seats.
"Get in," my captain said. He motioned towards the car, and with a hand to the small of Tezuka's back, practically forced the younger player into the car before him.
I waved to him before he shut the door. "Have fun, Atobe!" I called, making sure that both he and Tezuka could hear me.
The door shut. The window was pulled down, and a tennis ball aimed towards my head flew towards me, and Fuji caught it before it could hit me.
"Ah, thank you."
He smiled at me, pocketing the ball inside of his bag for further use. Atobe's tennis equipment was always of the highest quality. I almost wished I had caught the ball instead. "Ne, Oshitari. Where are we off to now?"
I shrugged. "I'm going home."
"Can I come with you?" A careless smile was given.
I paused momentarily.
I hate it when you ask me if "it's all right".
I can't quite seem to remember what day it is today.
You make me stay.
"If you want to," I replied indifferently.
She's going to get mad at you.
He followed me home that day.
I don't need to see that.
I admit that the first time I saw Fuji Syuusuke, I felt a connection with him. Perhaps as profound as what I feel for Gakuto, but they really can't be compared. Gakuto, I would consider my opposite. Fuji, I think, is more on my wavelength, and not just because of the 'prodigy' title attached to each of us by our respective teams.
I can't say that I'm surprised to find myself alone in my bedroom. Alone, but with him.
Would you please be considerate?
He touches the side of my face gently, pressing a kiss against my temple. It doesn't surprise me. I've always thought that he was attracted to me – he flirted often enough – and for me, it made my fascination with him grow even stronger.
We're both sitting on my bed. It's comfortable, so I don't feel any awkwardness as I take a more direct route and kiss him on the lips. Chastely, of course.
"Wouldn't it be funny?"
A mask, and a ball.
"What?" I ask, and let him suck lightly at my neck.
"Teddy bear sex."
I stare at him for a moment, uncomprehendingly.
Two different beds.
It clicks. "Oh," I say, and though I try, there is really no way of making that one syllable sound intelligible. "I see."
Fuji has this glint in his eyes then – and it's funny, because I know his body language when many of his friends still don't. I suppose it's because in many ways, we are very alike – but he doesn't get the chance to say whatever he wants to say when we hear the front door open with a bang, and the resonance of two voices echo up the hallway.
I stop.
Always in the evenings.
Fuji glances at me curiously an instant before I stand, smoothing out the wrinkles on my bedspread before I offer him a hand.
He doesn't ask.
Should we be doing this?
"Hello, father," I say when we reach the bottom of the stairs and meet up with him.
He smiles at me.
I think I've caught him in his mood again.
He's next door.
"Who's your friend, Yuushi? Will he be staying for dinner?"
I respond quickly so that Fuji doesn't. "Fuji Syuusuke. And no, he won't be staying."
It may sound rude of me to say so, but it doesn't really concern me at that moment to ask him what he thinks. The young woman at father's side shifts uncomfortably, and I accidentally catch her eye when she looks at me and looks away.
I love him.
I almost feel sorry.
"Do you need a ride home?" my father addresses Fuji.
Fuji shakes his head. He does it so that he isn't caught staring at her next to my father, I think. "No, I'll be fine. I'm going to go downtown for a bit, I think."
He takes his coat when I offer it to him, smiling at me in that particular way. It doesn't quite shock me. He is very perceptive.
He's even more so when he says, without asking for any introductions to the two people before him, "It was nice meeting you two. Sorry for heading out so soon."
Waving, he quickly leaves my house, and I am left staring at his retreating back as he walks away from me. Closing the door silently, I turn back to look at my father, who has his arm around her waist.
"Shouldn't you tell her?"
I ask this simply. It's what I keep telling him. He's a smart man, there's no doubt about it, but he can get carried away. He immediately looks guilty at my words, but as usual, there's never any action taken. She does as well.
My question isn't directed to her, however.
Even though I suppose I shouldn't, I do pity her.
Why do you do it?
"You bought me a teddy bear."
I am very amused.
He shrugs and picks the furry brown thing up, dropping onto his bed and holding it above him. He flicks its right ear a couple of times before answering, "Yes."
"You would." I fall down next to him, grabbing the bear out of his hands to simply stare at it. "How strange. At least it's cute."
"Cute, pretty, it's all basically the same," Fuji replies. He attempts to grab my gift from me, but I hold it out of his reach, and he pouts. "I hope you like it. I mean, I would be so devastated if you took my love offering and laughed at me."
"I am laughing at you. Just not vocally."
Sitting up, he knocks the stuffed animal from my hands and rolls over so that he's on top of me and looking down. I would never tell anyone else this, but his eyes truly are amazing up close. Not during any of those other times, but when we're alone together.
It sounds idealistic, and sometimes I do believe I can get that way. I'd like to say that I'm more of a pragmatist, though. It has a nicer ring to it.
"Ne, Oshitari..." Fuji asks me. He takes my glasses off and casually lays them to the side, on top of his dresser.
"Hm?"
"Do you feel sad for Atobe when he chases after Tezuka?"
Is it nothing at all?
"No," I say bluntly and roll us over so that I'm the one on top. I run my hand through his hair lightly before continuing, "It's not like I don't think he won't be successful."
Fuji chuckles, and his hand comes up to bat mine away. "That's true. It's definitely not one-sided."
He pauses, glancing up at me before looking away and refusing to meet my eyes thereafter. He says softly, "But it's always worse for the pursuer than the person being pursued, don't you think?"
I kiss him to avoid answering.
It's always worse for the pursuer.
She's sitting at the table when I approach. Whether it's my footsteps that alert her to my presence or something else, she glances up with a smile on her face that I never see around me. It disappears immediately when she recognizes who it is.
I meet her eyes only briefly before I sit down in the seat across from her.
It's silent for a few minutes before she speaks.
"You must think such low things of me," she states. She doesn't look at me directly. "After all, your father and..."
"Please don't say her name," I immediately interrupt. "She's untouched in all of this, you realize."
She looks regretful at my words. I wonder about what possesses her to do what she does, and my father as well.
I love him.
"Sometimes I think I pity you," I say before standing.
I wonder if I could grow to like her in the future.
"Tonight is the best time to do something about this."
She doesn't reply, but I know she will eventually.
When that day arrives, I leave the house quietly, sneaking out before anything is said, anything is shouted, or anything is thrown. I don't think it'll ever resort to that last option, but the possibilities are unlimited, and because I'm just a small part of it, I don't want it to concern me.
The path to his house is ingrained into me. I've always had a good memory, not just when it deals with him.
And I like his house. It's not the best looking house in the neighborhood, but it's warm and cozy. It's good for me here, I think.
When I knock on the door, just once, it flings open immediately, and I step back to prevent the body from flying into me. Another one follows it, leaping off the step to the entrance and tackling the figure.
"Oof! Yuuta, get off me!" the boy cries out, laughing hysterically.
Ah. It's Syuusuke's brother. He resembles him slightly. In a way.
Yuuta sits on top of the white-haired boy, and I know I've seen both of them somewhere, but I can't quite place it. He shoves the white head into the grass with one hand, and his other is tickling the boy's sides mercilessly.
"Not until you admit that I beat you!"
"Never!"
A presence in the doorway makes me turn.
"Saa, Yuuta. Be nice to the pretty kitty."
The boy on the ground glares at him at the same time as Yuuta does. "Syuusuke, you sadist!"
"I like the sound of that," he says, and looks at me speculatively. "Don't you, Yuushi?"
He touches the back of my hand lightly, secretly as if he knows his brother will freak if he sees someone like me pushing his brother to the wall roughly and sucking on his tongue so hard that it hurts. Not like I don't want to sometimes. If the kiss the white-haired boy gave Yuuta is any indication, I'm pretty sure they're in farther than we currently are.
Fuji – Syuusuke – doesn't ask why I'm here. I don't think he's that perceptive that he knows – if he were, I think he'd be psychic. But, it makes him happy.
"Would you like to come to my house next week?" I ask, surreptitiously keeping an eye on both Syuusuke and his brother, who seemed quite embarrassed about the kiss. The embarrassment soon faded to offense, however, when the white-haired boy made some comment about how Yuuta "never said anything about Syuusuke having such a pretty boyfriend".
He smiles at me curiously before taking my hand and leading me inside his house once again.
"I'd love to."
I love you.
I leave the door open as we enter.