Bildungsroman

Chapter nine

Attention please! There's a tiny bit of canon-changing here: in middle school, Seigaku (minus Tezuka) LOST to Rikkai in the Kantou finals. The reason for this is that 1) Ryoma CANNOT win everything. Even Serena Williams has had her fair share of losses. 2) Rikkai had so much more riding on that match, emotionally, due to Yukimura's surgery, that it was cruel of Konomi to have them lose. Actually beating Seigaku could have made them a far more fearsome challenge in the Nationals, too (which Seigaku won. That remains the same).

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, with no copyright infringement intended. I don't own PoT, which belongs to Takeshi Konomi.

Airi, Momoko, and Kagome exchanged worried glances. This didn't look good. Sakura's eyes were boring into the paper like she was demanding an apology, but there was something frozen about the look.

"There's some mistake." Their friend finally declared. There wasn't. She knew it. They knew it.

The large, red scrawl of 65 was like a flaming beacon of mockery.

"There… there has to be." Why was her throat so achy? And why were they looking at her like–

"Sakura-chan, it's just one test." Kagome squeezed her hand. Nervously, she glanced up, but Hoshigawa-sensei wasn't paying much attention to them. "We've got another coming up next week, you'll do better on that one."

Next week. Sandwiched between the Hyotei debate and the Yamabuki matches. Oh gods, the debate. Ueda-senpai hadn't been very impressed by her last submission.

You can do better than this, Blossom-chan, and oh, the disappointment in his eyes–

Kagawa-san, I expected better. Hoshigawa-sensei, lips pursed, handing back her paper–

Kagawa, you're slipping. Play seriously! Imako-senpai, shouting from across the court as yet another ball bounced out of bounds–

A shudder racked Sakura's body, and hot nausea climbed up her gullet. Ice and fire flashed across the skin of her back and arms.

Sixty-five. 65. "Sixty-five." She rasped. For her, whose lowest score had hitherto been in the high eighties.

Which law school is going to accept this?

The plan had been so simple: keep your grades high. Win debates. Kick ass in tennis.

What the hell was happening? Why was everything falling apart?

"Sensei, I think she needs the nurse." Momoko sounded like she was a hundred miles away. Or perhaps it was Sakura who had travelled.

A dark shadow behind her eyelids. "Kagawa-san? Kagawa-san!"

She was so tired… couldn't everyone just shut up for five minutes? Another five minutes and she'd raise her head…

God, black was such a kind colour.

Nomura bit her lip and looked at Tezuka. He looked stern and unyielding as usual, but the twist of his lips gave away his concern.

"It was pretty bad, captain." Momo shook his head. "I mean, she was shaking and her head was down and everything, and then she just… zoomp. Went limp. Like a bunraku puppet." He had had to carry the unconscious girl two floors down to the infirmary, trailed by a fretting Hayashi and a very snippy Tamashiro. In their defence, Kagawa hadn't exactly looked to be in stellar condition even before passing out.

Jeez, she was smart and all, but trying to do too much was never good for anyone. It never was.

"Yo, Tezuka, Nomura-san." Ueda-senpai walked in. There was little worry on his face, but Nomura supposed that was normal. "You said it was about Sakura-chan."

"Yes." Tezuka stood up, his eyes steely. "She fainted in class, Ueda. She's been putting too much pressure on herself."

The friendly smile was replaced with concern. "What?!" Ueda demanded, looking from one serious face to the other. "Are you serious? She fainted?"

Nomura gritted her teeth. "Yes, Ueda, fainted. What did you think was going to happen if you made her write every argument out five times, huh?"

Ueda drew himself up, a steely look entering his own eyes. "I could well put that very question back to you, Nomura, especially considering it's her tennis responsibilities that have increased." His tones were cool, but there was a definite warning in them. "She's actually been doing no more than Asano, Yamato or myself, for the record. And if you were to ask her, she'd tell you that."

"You have no idea what it's been like for her! She fell asleep–"

"On a bus to Kanagawa- yes, I'm aware. She told me." Ueda sighed. He tugged at his earlobe, suddenly fatigued. "Man, this is messed up. What's worse is that I can't even drop her from the starters."

"Why on earth not?" Nomura demanded.

Ueda shrugged. "She'd be hurt. She's given a lot to the debate club, Nomura- more than she's ever put into tennis, and you know that." Hadn't she said it herself? Debate and school come before tennis for me. "Dropping her would… I mean, call me soft, but she's special. I'd have to really harden my heart to do that to her. 'Sides, are you going to drop her from the line-up on Saturday?"

"Hey, no one's dropping me from anything." A raspy voice from the inside door drew everyone's attention.

"Sakura!" Momoko and Airi shrieked, jumping up from their places beside the entrance. But it was Ueda who reached her first.

"Blossom-baby!" He wrapped her a huge bear-hug. Thank god it wasn't the usual choke-hold. Sakura wasn't sure she'd have survived that.

"Yo, Ueda-senpai." She patted his shoulder. "Got you worried, huh?" Airi and Momoko edged him out of the way and stood sentinel on either side.

He ruffled her now-loose hair. "You got everyone worried, kiddo." He indicated the others with a majestic sweep of his arm. "Look at your humble servants, all anxious for their princess' health."

Tezuka's head was going to explode. He was sure of it. He levelled a glare at Ueda, but his cheeky classmate didn't even look at him.

Sakura smiled, wan and small. "Yo, everyone. Sorry for the trouble." She was still too pale for anyone's liking, and the dark circles around her eyes had returned with a vengeance. Also, were her hands trembling?

"Look," She began nervously. "I know I've been neglecting my health- big time: no sleep, coffee, energy drinks… but I need to play against Yamabuki, at least the singles, and I've put way too much into that Hyotei debate to not attend. Just let me ride out this week. It's important to me."

"Your health's important too, Kagawa." Momo interjected. His brow was deeply furrowed. Sakura sighed. "I know, I know, but– Momo, when you played Oshitari-san in the Nationals and ran into the fence, you weren't fit to play the rest of the match either. But it was important to you, right? This debate's way too important to me, and… well, who else are you going to put in singles 3, captain? We really don't have much of a choice."

She stared at Nomura, eyes wide and beseeching. "Please, captain."

Nomura looked at Tezuka. Looked at Airi, who was shaking her head imperceptibly. Exchanged a long look with Ueda. He shrugged.

They both looked back at the waiting girl. Important, she'd called it.

"Alright." They sighed, united in defeat.

"But you're not playing in the mixed doubles, and you're going to take Sunday off to contemplate what the hell you're doing with your life. Got it?" Nomura's tone brooked no defiance.

Sakura's shoulders slumped in relief; Airi and Momoko looked mutinous.

"Yes ma'am."

Tennis practice found Sakura wound so tight that she was, frankly, unbearable to be around. The fainting incident had spread to the rest of the tennis club – and she couldn't even blame it on Momoshiro this time– with the result that people were treating her like someone likely to drop dead any second. And she was restricted to stretches and light swings only- captain's orders.

It was ridiculous! How could she prepare for a singles match like this? Were they shitting her?

"Oh, you look frightening, don't you." A pleasant voice from off-court distracted her. She smiled tightly from her prone position on the ground. "Momo. Come to relay some other instructions to me? Should I take a short walk? Throw a ball against a wall instead?"

It was really kinda pathetic how insults just rolled off Momoshiro's back. Pathetic and infuriating. Her classmate just waved her caustic words away like banishing flies. "Sure, or you could help me stretch. Some things I can't do without a partner."

Yeah, she didn't buy that. "You have a partner, or was your match with Mikabi-chan a figment of my imagination?"

"Ah, yeah, about that…" he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Takada doesn't always push me hard enough. And anyway, Nomura-buchou's got her working on something. C'mon, Kagawa, I really need the help." He fixed large, purple eyes on her pleadingly.

With a grunt, she pushed herself off the ground. "Sure, whatever."

"Great! Thanks!" His enthusiasm was puppy-like and infectious… unfortunately for him, she was vaccinated. "Just show me what you want to do, dumbass."

Momo's mouth settled into an exaggerated pout. "So harsh, Kagawa…" He sat down and spread his legs to the side, as wide as they would go. "Just put your hands on my shoulders and push. I need to touch my forehead to the ground." He winced as he was jerked forward. "Hey, hey, be gentle!"

Sakura snorted. "Delicate flower are you, Momo?" But she did ease up a bit, which was a relief.

"You shouldn't be so mad with at Nomura-buchou, y'know. She's just looking out for you."

Sakura scowled, refusing– "I have a match on Saturday!" She burst out (Momo winced as she pushed harder again). "How the hell am I supposed to win with kiddie practices like this!"

"You're not gonna win anything if you don't slow down and give yourself a rest." He pointed out reasonably. "You mentioned my match with Oshitari, right? Well, d'you remember Atobe-san's match with Tezuka-buchou?"

She scoffed. "I'm not dumb. Of course I remember that."

"Y'know, between you and me, I think captain was dumb to push himself that hard."

Sakura gasped. "Momoshiro! Are you… are you nuts?" Calling his own captain dumb? Seriously, was he crazy?

He shrugged, his torso parallel to the ground. "He didn't need to go that far. We had Echizen as the reserve. He pushed himself too hard and ended missing the rest of the Kantou tournament 'cuz he had to go to Germany for rehab. Like, talk about reckless."

That… was fair. "And you guys lost at regionals, didn't you?" It had been a cruel, cruel blow to the entire school; the National Tournament finals had been that much more heated asa result of that.

Momo's fists were clenched, veins popping out; the loss still rankled, despite the victory at Nationals. "Yeah. I don't blame him, but it was a stupid thing to do." Abruptly, his hands relaxed, and he sat up and pinned Sakura with a stern look. "Don't push yourself so hard that you can't step up when the team really needs you."

It wasn't Momo talking so much as a former vice-captain. Sakura gnawed her lip, suddenly, profoundly unsure.

Hyotei was beautiful. Like, architecture and landscaping A-double-plus.

Sakura didn't even bother looking around.

She was fuming as she left stormed away from her team. What's the point of putting me on the team without using me in competitions? She screamed in the privacy of her head. Asano-senpai, you didn't need to be so… so… "Augh!" She squeaked, as she face-planted into a wall.

Wait, wasn't she outside…? There weren't any walls here.

Certainly not obnoxiously-coloured yellow and black ones. That looked suspiciously like the Rikkai Dai tennis uniform.

"Kagawa-san, I'm starting to think you're following us." Oh no. No, no, no, no, nononono– her smile probably looked like a clown's grin.

"You're the ones in Tokyo, Yukimura-san.' Sakura pointed out, hoisting her satchel more securely onto her shoulder. "Sanada-san, hey."

What a lovely contrast they made: one delicate and ethereal and beautiful beyond bearing, and the other solid, grounded, like a handsome oak. Air and fire. Piano and cello. Dumbass and shitty metaphors– nah, that was her.

"So what brings you two to Hyotei?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she spoke.

"Atobe invited us for a practice friendly." He replied, and she was a little surprised at getting a straight answer. "Forgive my rudeness, but you look tired, Kagawa-san."

Indeed she did. Unless 'panda' was a trending make-up look.

A giggle bubbled from the girl's lips. Then another. And another. Sanada's brows contracted.

She was laughing. Well, at least, her mouth was. Her eyes were… wild and more than a little freaky, if he were honest.

"Oh, do I, really?" She gasped, her shoulders shaking. "I had no idea, with everyone and their grandmother pointing it out!"

Okay, so that was kinda rude, but she was smack-dab in the middle of a really shitty week. So sue her for forgetting her manners back at the auditorium she'd just left.

"Kagawa-san, are you alright?" Yukimura looked at Sanada for assistance- he might be the Child of God, but practically no teenage boy really knew how to deal with a female on the verge of hysterics.

Except Sanada, and he knew how to deal with hysterics rather than females.

The sharp slap was enough to snap Sakura back to her senses, and she choked a little as she was abruptly returned to the land of the sane. Her cheek was stinging, and Sanada, rather than Yukimura, was directly before her.

"Ow." She whimpered, raising a hand to her cheek. Sanada levelled her with a look of dignified apology. "I'm sorry for that, Kagawa-san, but it was necessary."

Yukimura tilted his head, looking a teeny bit concerned. "Genichirou, wasn't that a little excessive?" He enquired, bending to get a better look at Sakura.

She flinched, stumbling back.

Sanada didn't make a habit of concern about people he didn't know, but this girl was starting to worry him a little. She really did look like a panda- and not in a cute way. What was she doing with herself? Didn't she realise that tennis players needed to keep themselves mentally fit as well as physically?

For his part, Yukimura was a little offended by her little show of skittishness, but he took care not to show it. The look in her eyes was a desperate one, bordering on unhinged– and he'd seen it before.

Genichirou's eyes had told his bedridden captain more than his lips ever had.

"Kagawa-chan," Sanada had to stop himself raising an eyebrow at the more familiar address. "Would you like to come and watch some of our practice matches with us?"

His voice was extremely gentle, and although he kept his distance, he kept a sweet, non-threatening smile on his face. Harmless. Look harmless. Non-threatening.

Sakura scuffed the ground with the toe of her kitten heels. Her voice, when it came, was small. "Your team won't mind?" She suddenly looked and sounded so very young.

She felt so drained.

Yukimura looked at Sanada.

Sanada looked at Yukimura.

He shrugged.

What are you up to, Seiichi?

Sakura was dimly surprised when no one raised much of an objection over her presence there. Sure, she received a couple of quizzical looks from the Hyotei regulars, but most of them ignored her, and the Rikkai team was too focused on the matches to really accost her.

Atobe, too, lost interest in her once Yukimura offered an explanation. "Ore-sama expects her to stay out of the courts." Was all he said to them.

Not to her. She was a non-entity.

It was bliss.

She watched, curiously detached, as two teams of terrifyingly skilled players clashed on the courts. It was kind of surprising that the Ohtori-Shishido pair beat Niou and Yagyuu, but Marui-Kuwahara had a partnership that was only matched by Oishi-senpai and Eiji-senpai. Oshitari and Mukahi were all but annihilated.

It was strange that Oshitari played doubles. Everyone knew that he was probably the best player after Atobe, and in a hierarchy like Hyotei, it made still less sense to shove such a talented player so low down the Hyotei pyramid as Doubles 2. He did partner well with Mukahi, but surely he should have been playing singles instead? Curious.

A tiny smile curved her lips as Hyotei's Akutagawa played Kirihara. The Hyotei boy was adorable. He ran around like a loon after each point his opponent scored, shouting how cool it was, hey Atobe did you see that, and I'm definitely going to return that! He was a formidable player, too; net play of that quality wasn't so easy to bring into singles.

She sighed, thinking of her own terrible net play.

"Being careless with one's health will have an adverse effect on the team's well-being." She jerked around sharply to see Sanada standing there. He looked severe. "I expected better of Tezuka's team."

Sakura glared, but it didn't last long. "Don't blame him- or Nomura-buchou, for that matter." She sighed, looking down at her knees. "I've just got a helluva lot on my plate."

He didn't seem to be sympathetic in the least. "It's time you stopped making excuses for your poor performance." He replied coolly. "Getting involved in various activities is advisable for people who are honest and won't use each as an excuse for failing the others."

Her mouth dropped open. That was… that was harsh. "I'm… I'm trying." Her throat was closing up; forcing words out was painful. "There's just no time… I've never gotten below 85 in any test, and I got a 65 in physics of all things because I had tennis and debate and other homework… I don't know what to do."

"You should have learnt to prioritise." His tone was cutting. "Your tennis is passable at best, you're not the first choice for your debate team, and your academics are also slipping… all because you aren't able to choose one activity and put that before all else. It limits your efforts."

"I have prioritised!" She snapped. "I've always said debate is more important–"

"Then leave tennis." He cut her off, but the look in his eyes was stern rather than unkind. "You will never achieve your goals if you do anything with less than your whole heart."

As if trying to make a point, he looked from her face to Kirihara, on the court. Sakura followed his gaze, confused, miserable, and curious.

Her breath caught in her throat.

There was little doubt of what she was seeing- Kirihara Akaya existed in nothing and nowhere else but on that tennis court. He was living from moment to moment- Akutagawa's serve, the whizz of the ball over the net, its bounce, the pounding of his feet as he streaked towards it, faster than thought – and he was in the swing of his racquet, the touch of the ball to the strings– he was in everything. He was in himself, playing that match. Everywhere and nowhere, all at once.

He was magnificent.

"Oh." Sakura's voice was very, very small as she looked from Kirihara, blazing towards victory, to Sanada, standing behind, shouting in her face what the world had been whispering for so long.

"Oh."

Sakura stood up abruptly. "I should leave. I've trespassed on your kindness long enough, Sanada-san." She executed a flawless bow, before going in search of Yukimura.

"Leaving so soon, Kagawa-chan?" Yukimura sounded neither glad nor disappointed. "Well, thank you for staying as long as you did. It's always nice to play before an appreciative audience."

Sakura laughed softly. "I'm afraid I wasn't a very good one this time, Yukimura-san. Somehow I always seem to leave a worse impression on your team than before. But thank you for inviting me to watch you play. It was very illuminating." She turned to Atobe, who was standing beside his rival captain. "Thank you for your hospitality, Atobe-san. I'll take my leave now." She included both of them in another bow, before leaving the courts.

Atobe glanced at Sanada as he returned to the benches.

"You don't usually favour outsiders with your conversation, Sanada." He drawled. "Care to share?"

Yukimura had to admit, he was curious. But perhaps Atobe wasn't the best person to demand answers of Sanada.

The stoic boy looked at his captain, then at Atobe. "She looked like a panda." He deadpanned. On the court, Kirihara wormed a final smash past Akutagawa, sealing the match.

Someone needs to tell Sakura and Sanada and all the others that they're NOT ACTUALLY REAL PEOPLE. They're so uncooperative; sigh. I know I promised a conversation between the Fuji brothers in this chapter, but apparently Sakura decided it was time to move the plot forward a bit. So, no, no Fuji-brother-goodness yet. I'll see if I can fit that tidbit elsewhere (ahaha who am I kidding, it's not like I'm actually in control of this story anymore).

A lot of my characterisation for Momoshiro is inspired by Swiss Army Knife's 'Jump Spirit'. If you haven't read it, please do! It's a lovely series centred around Momo's character and relationships. The last chapter is particularly good.
I've been very inspired by a lot of OC writers in the PoT fandom- particularly fyerigurl, coffeelatte, The Jabberer, and Neon Genesis. Unfortunately, it looks like at least fyerigurl won't be coming back to fanfiction (but we all still keep hoping, don't we?), about which I think we're all pretty upset. I don't know them at all, beyond reviews and the occasional tumblr ask, but they've really inspired and influenced a lot of my writing, and I'm very grateful for all that they've contributed to the PoT fandom (and its much-maligned OC section) over the years. You may see some echoes of their style (especially fyerigurl and maybe The Jabberer) in my own writing- I promise, it's not plagiarism. However, if you feel I'm veering close to that line, I'd like for you to tell me so I can work on that.

Finally, I've been remiss in replying to reviewers, but please know that I'm very grateful for your support and kind comments. Appreciation goes a long way in fuelling a writer, lemme tell you :D I love you all!
Do let me know what you think!
Cheers,
Chilli.