TITLE: Twisted Rivalry

PART: One-Shot (Drabble)

AUTHOR: Simply Kim

PAIRING: Atobe Keigo x Tezuka Kunimitsu

FANDOM: Tennis no Oujisama

GENRE: Shounen-ai (Continuation/AU)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything except this... (Piece of crap?) fic. ;

NOTE #1: Blah or Blah is for emphasis. /Blah/ is for conversations over the phone or flashbacks (if any). /Blah/ is for the conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking. Blah is for thoughts or random Japanese words.

TWISTED RIVALRY

VICTORY.

It was something he revelled in, swam in from the moment he was born up until the present. Kissing up corrupt asses if it was impossible to penetrate into the system, hacking into the mainstream until he was the one holding the reins of everyone he knew.

He wanted to show off – what with a good reason.

He had to capture someone.

Watching from afar, then finally up close. It was as if all his fantasies came true. It was on that fateful day on the clay courts that he had played the most dangerous game in his life. Ever since he was young, he had been waiting for this chance, performing way beyond his abilities and shaping himself so he could be better than everyone else.

He had always played by one rule, all throughout his life... it was something his parents jokingly called "Imprinting". He created scenarios that made the opposition feel the need to depend on him. He would crush them cruelly and then pick up the pieces of their fractured humanity and keep them in his closed fists, never to be stolen away.

First victims were his parents. He made them love him, obey all his commands and virtually be his slaves without them knowing. He manipulated them that way. They had always thought he was being the obedient and gutsy son, but he was just making them fall for him even more so they couldn't ever refuse him

Then there was Kabaji Munehiro. Someone who owed him a lot after saving his family from misfortune. Not many knew the 'hulking lackey', and perhaps, they wouldn't ever know the real reason behind his faithful and unconditional devotion.

Then, there were his Hyoutei friends. They may seem to be at odds most of the time, but it was only through him that they would be able to survive. No matter how much Mukahi whined, or how often Oshitari sized him up him, or Shishido grumble about Atobe being an asshole right in front of him, or how often Ohtori acted all wary around him, it would still remain the same. They would still need him for support and guidance. In the end, Jirou would still only play with the highest feel of satiation with him, Hiyoshi would forever live his tennis life catching up to him, Shishido would forever be grateful for his help in getting back on the team and Ohtori would forever be just as thankful. Mukahi and Oshitari would forever remain in his debt for all the push he gave for them to finally end up happy together.

Imprinting was such a wonderful thing.

However, it would be a harder task when he soon set his sight on someone else. He had been building up for the past years, and making himself known to that someone so he wouldn't be missed.

He was desperate to get him.

Atobe wanted everything of his to be his own and him at his mercy.

He thought the plan would be foolproof... but was he ever wrong.

He had always viewed Tezuka Kunimitsu as someone whom he had to defeat at any cost. Someone he had to pull down to his knees and someone to drag cruelly in the mud just to make the world acknowledge his wonderful self a million times over. It may seem like arrogance on his part, and yes, it partly was, but it was also the burning need to prove himself that made him do what he did.

He was so sure of himself then, so sure that he could beat the living legend and claim his title as his own. He was on his way to pursuing his goal that he felt like he could kill himself if in any case he would lose. He never thought of losing though. Such thought was better left to those who were not good enough in the sport... but that didn't mean that he never pondered about it.

After all, it was hard enough to be denied a glorious victory – but it certainly was harder to deal with the aftermath. The pain, the humiliation... the knowledge that you were not good enough. And the knowledge that the whole world was watching, more so, those whom he valued not as his victims but as his loyal subjects, two hundred strong, the tennis club in which he reigned supreme.

To keep the imprint of his unbreakable self in the minds of everyone, he just had to avoid losing.

That was it.

So imagine the joy he felt when he saw the great Tezuka Kunimitsu falter before him. The excitement... the power of being at an advantage... it was, simply put, marvellous.

He thought the wondrous feeling of complete elation would stay – surprisingly, it didn't. A few moments later, when realisation kicked in, he felt helpless. The sudden horror of what he had just done dawning upon him so terribly that he had to curse himself for planning everything that way.

Apparently, he wasn't callous enough.

I wasn't satisfied at all...

Shaking his head, he took a sip of ice-cold juice from his sports bottle and stared at far out to where the sun set. The perfect blue of the summer sky had finally succumbed to the depths of darkness and the vast horizon was clouded with oranges, pinks and purples of the impending night.

Sitting there all alone... and waiting. Who knew he would be doing such demeaning things at his age? He had never waited for anyone else all his life – he was the one who was usually being waited for and somehow, it felt awkward this way...

"Atobe...?"

His head snapped up and he looked up, focusing his attention on the one who said his name with such disbelief that he felt a bit offended.

It was the one he had been waiting for – Tezuka Kunimitsu.

"Ah." He nodded, standing up and running his fingers through his perfect hair.

"What are you doing here?" Came another question, now from the one who accompanied the Seigaku captain. "Haven't you done enough?"

Atobe's brows furrowed. He didn't like that tone. He had half his mind to snap his fingers and order Kabaji to take the guy as far away from them as possible. But then he remembered that his hulking companion was now on his own way home – he made sure of it after all.

"Ore-sama wants to be with Tezuka – alone." He sniped pointedly, waving him away in distaste before crossing his arms across his chest in supplication.

However, before another scathing remark was dropped, Tezuka patted the other one's arm and nodded. "You go ahead, Oishi." He nodded again. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."

"You sure?"

Another nod and Oishi Souichirou, Seigaku's esteemed fukubuchou, cast Atobe a warning look and turned reluctantly away.

Ah, he had chosen him after all.

His world brightened, and the small voice at the back of his head, the one whom he owed his 'Insight' to, started its usual stream of scheming.

Just as I thought.

He had experienced a lot of victories in the past, most of them gratifying enough to put a smug smile on his face. This was another of those victories, but even though it was small compared to the others, he couldn't help the smirk that crossed his lips, staying put for a moment before dissolving to that of self-satisfaction. He had never felt this kind of gratification before.

Maybe it was just what the niggling voice inside said in one of his moments of reflection... he was on the right track.

The measure of imprinting. It was that which was pushing him onward on his quest to plow Tezuka down among other things; he was going to pounce now after years of preparation and preludes so he could finally grasp him in his arms and shape him the way he wanted to.

THAT would be real victory, wouldn't it?

OWARI