Bildungsroman
Chapter 12
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, with no copyright infringement intended. I don't own PoT, which belongs to Takeshi Konomi.
Sakura huffed as she reached for the dictionary for the tenth time in almost as many minutes. Screw English. Damn language made no sense.
She had been stuck on this chapter since last night. Rana Dasgupta was a flowery, wordy fuck. If the stories she'd already gotten through hadn't been so interesting, Sakura would have invested in a quality paper shredder.
No one made you read it in English instead of getting a translation, Kagome had rolled her eyes at Sakura's whining. Suck it up.
Well, excuse her for wanting to learn a language!
She exhaled hard as she ran a finger slowly down the list of words, looking for the one she wanted. She'd seen both Tezuka-senpai and Fuji-senpai reading English novels in the library a couple of times. They certainly seemed to get through them much faster than her. Funny how 13 short stories could occupy one for two months.
"Yo, Kagawa." A burly figure dropped into the seat in front of hers- Momoko's chair. Sakura grunted– which turned into an outraged yelp as the dictionary was yanked away from her.
"Dammit, Yamato!" She snatched at it, but he had the element of surprise. Some fucking tennis reflexes she had. "Give it back!"
For someone who had apparently dropped in to irritate her, he didn't look amused. Far from it, actually; he looked pissed. "Talk, and it's yours." He snapped, folding it closed, a finger tucked in to mark her page.
"What d'you want?" She glared at him. He looked disbelieving. "Don't play dumb. Ueda-senpai said you quit the club!" His voice rose as Sakura's gaze dropped. "He's pretty upset, and apparently Asano-senpai is too."
Sakura sighed. Long and heavy. "It's been… hard, Yamato. You know that. I can't keep doing both."
"Then quit tennis." He was in a particularly waspish mood today. Not that she could blame him; she was essentially bailing in the middle of the season. "You like debate better, you've always said that."
Sakura's eyes were sad, but determined. "Look, debate is more important in the long run. But I like tennis too, and I have another year. I'll come back to the club next year, okay? When it really counts."
"When it really counts for you." Disgust coloured Yamato's tone. "When it's important to you– and it would be, last year before college and all that– you'll come back. And this year, you're gonna just leave us in the lurch."
"Look, I'm doing that either way." Sakura's own temper was rising now. "So I'm just gonna go with what suits me. And tennis is important to me, okay. Not as important as debate, which is why I'm saving it for the most important year– the last year before college, yeah."
Yamato's eyes smouldered, and he rose. "I'm gonna be President next year, y'know." He growled. "And if you think you can just waltz back in like nothing happened, you can damn well think again."
Sakura rose as well, fury staining her cheeks an ugly red. "Gimme my damn dictionary and get outta my classroom, Yamato." She snarled. A racquet and ball would have come in real handy now.
He shoved the book in her direction, sneering. "You don't own the classroom, Kagawa."
"No more than you own the club." She retorted. He glared, before stalking out, nearly bowling over Airi and Momoko in the process. Sakura glared after him, chest heaving and cheeks blotchy. The two girls hurried over.
"I take it that didn't go well." Airi raised an eyebrow. Sakura flung herself back into her chair with an inarticulate shriek. Momoko rubbed gentle circles into her hair, trying to soothe her temper. "Drink some water." She advised. Sakura was too wound up to argue.
Deep down, she knew that Yamato was just hurt. And how could she blame him? She'd feel the same in his place; perhaps she would have been even more vicious. But that knowledge didn't erase the sting of his words and his threat; she'd done what she had to. She did enjoy debate more, but quitting the tennis team now wasn't right. She owed them that much.
She took up her book again, but her mind continued to buzz. When it counts for you. When it's important for you… this year, you're just going to leave us in the lurch.
God, she hated this.
As far as Kagawa choosing between two clubs went, Nomura hadn't been holding her breath. With all due respect, buchou, you know that debate and school come before tennis for me. No one would have been surprised if she'd handed in her resignation after the last (extremely dramatic) week.
Instead, she'd turned up for morning practice on Monday, from which she'd previously been exempt because of debate club, and had quietly intimated to her captain that the exception was no longer necessary.
It was a pleasant surprise, but Nomura had caught the strain in her smile. Kagawa wanted to be in the debate club. Why wasn't she?
Regardless, she'd clearly made her decision, and it wasn't up for discussion. Kazumi's tentative 'Are you sure, Sakura-chan?' was met with a quick smile and a nod. No words. There was, it seemed, nothing to talk about.
Nomura could work with that. Kagawa wouldn't spit it out until she was good and ready. So, instead, the captain put her to work.
"Your footwork could use a bit of improvement." She told her, amused at the flush that accompanied the answering nod. "You're going to be doing many, many drills with Kazumi until I see it getting better."
Given that Kazumi was a dancer (who danced in high heels, how in the–) and that Sakura had, by her own admission, two left feet, this was going to be a long, hard grind.
Imako and Reiko, who was finally off pain relief sprays, were locked in a fierce contest. Reiko was losing, and losing heavily, but damn if she wasn't putting up a fight for every point.
Takada was off somewhere, probably working with Momoshiro. She'd said something about 'showing the idiot up' that had gone right over Nomura's head. Whatever it was, she probably wouldn't be wasting her time. She was dependable like that.
"Ow…" She heard Kagawa whine, followed by Kazumi's unsympathetic laughter and orders to try again. She grinned at Shizuka, who stifled a smile of her own, and served the ball. They were caught up in their own match.
Reiko would probably need another week to be match-ready, and Kagawa would make peace with her choice; already, the film of worry that had hung over the team like a marquee was lifting. The girls were talking, laughing, and in some cases, losing focus.
"Ryuzaki-sensei has invited the Rikkai teams for some friendly matches over the weekend." She winced as Kagawa tripped and landed with a thump; Kazumi helped her up, but her eyes were round with shock. Imako raised her eyebrows- all the surprise she expressed. Shizuka and Reiko gaped, and Takada, newly-arrived, flushed and sweating like a horse, spluttered around her canteen straw. The youngest regular, a quiet girl by the name of Rin, went a little pale.
Hm. Not a bad set of reactions, considering she'd heard the boys' team yell a few minutes ago. Thank goodness Kagawa and Takada were the most boisterous among this group (and Rin could do with a little more of that, to be honest).
"No mixed doubles this time." Nomura added, nodding at Takada, Kagawa and Kazumi. Was that relief on their faces? She didn't blame them. "But I do expect you to put up a respectable showing. Just because we call them 'friendlies' doesn't mean we don't want to kick their butts, got it?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Dismissed!"
Mikabi slung a very sweaty arm around Sakura's shoulders as they headed off towards the clubhouse. "Sounds like fun, doesn't it?" Despite her flushed face, heaving chest, and the obscene levels of exhaustion she had to be enduring, the grin on her face was light and relaxed.
Sakura bumped her hip against hers. "Can't wait."
You will never achieve your goals if you do anything with less than your whole heart.
So she was fixating a bit on Sanada-san's words. So what? There were worse things to fixate upon, and few things better.
She missed debate. She'd probably miss it more going forward, but… Mikabi's chatter, so incongruous with the smashes that turned hands numb, filled the dark, warm air around them and made her smile.
Let me make memories for next year. I'll miss this too.
(at Rikkai Dai)
Sanada prayed for patience. Niou was an important cog in the Rikkai machine. It would be rather difficult to win Nationals without him.
Difficult, but not impossible, a tiny voice that sounded disturbingly like Yukimura's echoed in his mind. No one is irreplaceable.
No. No. Niou had a unique, unpredictable playing style, and more importantly, Yagyuu paired better with him than with anyone else. (This fact cast serious doubt on the Gentleman's mental balance, but as long as they won all their matches, Sanada didn't really care.)
(That was a lie. They didn't need any more Akayas.)
All in all, Niou was vital to this team's success, and that was the only thing preventing Sanada from bitch-slapping him into the next century.
"You're looking rather red, Sanada." Only Yukimura would smile sunnily in the face of a Sanada Glare. "I must say, Niou's creativity is leaps and bounds ahead of his junior high level."
Creativity, yes. Maturity, on the other hand… Sanada turned his vicious glare on his paint-stained, confetti-studded, glittering locker. Paint would wash off. Confetti could be brushed away. But the glitter… it was in everything. It was in his cap.
At least his jacket was safe and sound on his shoulders. If Niou had despoiled the sacred emblem of his position in the Rikkai tennis club–
(Now, Sanada-kun, one musn't tempt fate)
Yukimura stepped back as the final glitter bomb dropped from the ceiling. Onto Sanada's uncapped head.
He was going to slap Niou to within an inch of his life. Then he'd introduce him to his bokuto.
(A moving target would provide good practice.)
"Good heavens." They made quite a pair, the glittering Emperor, all but foaming at the mouth, and the Child of God, pristine and unflappable and wicked delight in his eyes. "That was quite the surprise, wasn't it?"
Sanada gritted his teeth. Without Yukimura, winning Nationals would be impossible. Not to mention the lifetime of bad karma that would probably come with murdering the Child of God. Multiple lifetimes.
"An understatement–"
"–of sorts' is what you were going to say, right?" Oh sweet God. What sins had he, Sanada Genichirou, committed in a past life to have this kind of hell visited upon him in this one?!
Yanagi Renji's eyes might be shut, but Sanada swore that he could see the wicked gleam in them. The same one as in Yukimura's.
"An ingenious setup indeed." Yanagi mused, leaning forward to examine the mechanics of Niou's evil. "Further proof that Niou's academic rank in no way reflects his intelligence."
"Interesting information though this is," Sanada snarled. "I don't find myself appeased."
Yanagi nodded. "A hundred laps, I assume?"
"Make it two hundred." Yukimura ordered, still sporting an expression of awful amusement. "After all, ingenuity does not excuse misbehaviour."
Sanada was quite satisfied with this. Offically. Unofficially, he would carry his bokuto to school every day, starting tomorrow. Niou wouldn't be able to sit down for a week when Sanada was done with him.
"Two hundred laps." He nodded at Yanagi, before slamming his locker door shut and shuffling off to the showers.
"Let's hope you can rid of that stuff before Saturday." Yukimura called after him, obscene glee in his voice.
Covered in glitter, Sanada looked fabulous, but intimidating?
Yukimura chuckled. Not so much.
Friday evening found all the Seigaku regulars at a loose end. "You've been working hard." Ryuzaki-sensei had said approvingly. "I know you lot are taking Rikkai very seriously- which is as it should be. But I want everyone to relax today; come in fresh tomorrow! Understood?"
Sakura and Mikabi stared at each other, nonplussed. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?" The latter griped, hefting her tennis bag more securely onto her shoulder. Sakura pouted. "Search me." She replied, looking at the captains. Both looked as surprised as the rest.
Seriously, Ryuzaki-sensei and her curve balls.
Some, however, weren't quite without purpose.
"Burgers, burgers!" Momo exclaimed joyfully. Sakura rolled her eyes, grinning. "Oi, Echizen, get your ass here! I'm starving!"
"You're paying, right, Momo-senpai?" The smirk in the shorter boy's voice was almost a physical apparition. Momo looked momentarily dismayed, before his eyes alighted on a suitable quarry.
Sakura tuned out as Momoshiro descended on his two most gullible seniors. Kikumaru-senpai and Oishi-senpai would be going home with considerably lighter wallets.
Unfortunately, the former wasn't going down alone. "Sakura-chan!" Kikumaru-senpai was light, sure. For a boy. Sakura yelped and staggered dangerously. Mikabi, though startled, steadied her with a ready hand.
"Ow-ow-ow-ow!" Her pitch rose as his weight didn't abate. This was the boy who leapt around the court like he weighed nothing? "Senpai, my back!" Her knees were still knitting back up; she didn't need a back sprain as well!
Oishi had to prise him off, but that didn't stop him from yammering her ear off- entreaties, endearments, endorsements (what did ketchup, the finest in production though it may be, have to do with this situation?)- until Sakura, in a moment of sheer 'okay fuck just shut up', caved.
"Okay, senpai, sure, I'll come." She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, but the silence was more than worth it.
For a moment, anyway.
Twenty minutes later, Sakura was bitterly regretting her life.
It turned out that the boys' team, while supremely talented in their chosen field, were all varying degrees of annoying.
"I'll have 20 burgers!"
"I'll have 21!"
"Ojii-san, give me 23 instead!"
"25!"
"Echizen, you cheeky brat! Respect your seniors!"
"Are you saying you're old, Momo-senpai?"
"Why, you—"
"C-calm down, you two!"
"Ojii-chan, I'll have 30 burgers! Hee-hee, best that!"
"Eiji?!"
The old man behind the counter, however, seemed to be an old campaigner. He took down the orders with nary a blink. "And for you, miss?" He asked the slightly horrified girl accompanying them.
She started. "Ah- pork dumplings and a green tea, please." She gestured to her rambunctious company, her face the colour of embarrassment. "I'm sorry about them, ojii-san. I hope they don't scare your other customers."
"Don't worry about it, miss." He assured her with a crinkly smile. "They've been coming in for years; most of my regular customers are used to it."
Sakura blinked; it had been almost five years, and she wasn't used to Momoshiro. Some customers.
"Still, I'll try and keep them in line." She promised, before handing over her share of the money. And then a bit more because 60-odd burgers (Kikumaru-senpai had been persuaded to reconsider his appetite) were a heavy load on two high schoolers.
"That's all you're having, Kagawa?" Momo indicated her comparatively paltry fare as they all settled into a booth. She snorted. "It's more than enough for me. You want some, Oishi-senpai?" She slid her tray across to the increasingly-agitated vice captain. He took a dumpling with the air of someone afforded a moment of unexpected relief, and wasn't going to let it slip away.
Kikumaru and Echizen were locked in a bizarre who-can-reach-the-burger competition, the more impressive since the younger boy was simultaneously competing with Momoshiro in a burger-eating showdown. The sight made Sakura's gorge rise, just a little. She caught Oishi's eye, and they shared a commiserating grimace. How often was he roped along into witnessing this… this travesty?
"Hey, shove over." Mikabi's gruff voice made Sakura jump. "Mikabi-chan, hey!" She exclaimed, relief and confusion raising her tone of voice. It was a further shock to see Nomura sliding into the seat opposite, beside Momoshiro. "Captain?"
The older girl surveyed the gorging boys with an air of amused experience, as opposed to Mikabi's grossed-out reaction. "Boys." Nomura shook her head at her two juniors, chuckling. "I have kid brothers." She explained to the girls. "This shit is tame."
Mikabi let out a sound like a wounded animal. Sakura patted her hand. "My partner is a dustbin." Her friend whimpered. Bad manners, apparently, were a source of horror for Mikabi. "Why couldn't I have Fuji-senpai, or Oishi-senpai?"
"Hey." Momoshiro barely paused in his eating to glare at his partner. The sight of his bulging cheeks made her groan.
Sakura couldn't help it. She guffawed. Her laughter was bright and loud, and unbidden, both Nomura and Mikabi grinned too.
Man, this took a while to churn out. I had no inspiration for a while, and packing took longer than I expected. As I write, I'm sitting in the PG Hub of my new uni, and the weather outside is dismal. The first days have been pretty fun, but hectic af.
As promised, though, here's the final chapter before the intended hiatus. Comments would be appreciated, and I'll see y'all as soon as I can!
Cheers,
Chilli.