Bildungsroman

Chapter 13

I live! And a big, big thank you to all my readers for being so supportive during my period of hiatus- shoutout to Neon Genesis, atal23 and Archie the Great, as well as rainywindows, who reviewed during the hiatus and kept me coming back, writing a little each day.

In honour of the new year, this is my longest chapter yet! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, with no copyright infringement intended. Prince of Tennis belongs to Takeshi Konomi.

Sakura and Mikabi shielded their eyes as the Rikkai bus drew up. "Huh. It's not yellow." Mikabi murmured, head turned away to avoid the dust that the bus wheels threw up. Sakura snorted quietly.

There was something ominous as the two Rikkai teams exited the vehicle. It wasn't silent and orderly- Kirihara yawned and stretched, and Niou smacked the back of his head, eliciting a yelp; a couple of the girls stumbled, bleary-eyed, down the steps- but Sakura felt a prickling at the back of her neck, and her back seemed to straighten of its own accord. Beside her, Mikabi's spine was so tense, she was afraid it would snap.

The moment seemed to merit its own background music- the stern, powerful, marching type. The Champions' March.

The captains approached the Seigaku pair, who stepped forward and shook hands. Even here, the difference in energy was palpable: Yukimura and Tezuka, arguably the two finest players in the high school circuit, both calm, almost unflappable. Sakura tore her admiring gaze away to focus on the girls.

Ikeda Kotone. Currently the top-ranked player in the girls high school world- currently, Kazumi had emphasised.

Captain's been held back by her team too long.

Sakura's stomach bubbled. There was the white heat of promise in Mikabi's eyes.

Nationals.

Nothing in Ikeda's manner screamed 'superior' when she met Nomura's hand. If anything, there was a look of watchfulness, of calculation; as though she knew she had to keep an eye on Nomura, or else.

Nomura looked calm, but there was a tightness to her muscles that said she was anything but. "Ikeda." She nodded once. Tersely.

"Nomura. Been a while." What was uppermost, Sakura wondered- the calculation in Ikeda's gaze, or the tilt of her smile? That wasn't a smile between mere acquaintances; Nomura's lips turned up minutely in response.

And then suddenly those grape-purple eyes slid to Sakura. She stiffened, raising her chin and offering a minute smile. Was this how those felt on slides, the ones under the microscopes in the biology lab?

Ikeda looked away, back to Nomura, and the weight was gone. Breathing easier, she looked back at the boys' side-

-and the weight was back on as she locked eyes with a tall, staid boy. A moment of heavy confusion, and then she smiled that small smile, warmer than before, and nodded once. Formally.

Hello.

A pause- the equivalent, she supposed, of him looking over his shoulder to ascertain whom she was addressing- and he returned the gesture. One clipped, crisp dip of his chin.

Sakura smiled again, before transferring her attention back to where the captains were speaking.

"Your courts are impressive." Ikeda was saying politely. Nomura thanked her in just as bland a tone. Ikeda glanced at her, and the corner of her mouth kicked up a little. Some things, at least, were still certain.

Apart from the two captains, there was no interaction- no direct interaction- between the teams. They approached the clubhouses in two well-marked, immiscible groups, discreetly sizing each other up. The Rikkai girls appeared far too self-possessed for idle banter or posturing.

And we're too wound-up, Sakura admitted to herself, an amused smile flitting across her face. Mikabi eyed her expressions, curious.

Even the garrulous Kazumi was, by her standards, funereal. Usually all bounce and sunshine, she moved on the balls of her feet now, that sunny disposition turned inwards. Sakura's own brand of energy- uncaffeinated maniacal focus- was re-directed internally, crackling through her veins like lightning. They were all too busy negotiating the energy that pulsed around them, tightening the air.

Behind them, the boys' team was comparatively raucous; they did, after all, have the advantage of prior (highly charged) interaction, didn't they? None of the Rikkai girls really knew anyone in the Seigaku team, except for Nomura, and only Ikeda knew her personally. Awkwardness was sort of guaranteed.

"You can use our clubhouse to change." Nomura gestured to the building off the courts. She tossed the keys to Mikabi. "Takada, lock up after."

"Yes, captain." Mikabi nodded, pocketing the keys. Ikeda's piercing gaze touched on her for a moment before moving back to Nomura. "We'll join you soon." As if on cue, the entire team turned towards the clubhouse, synchronised as a ballet chorus.

"Shizuka, Imako, you're up first." Kazumi announced. Nomura had already begun her own stretches, her eyes blank and focused. Sakura and Kazumi exchanged a glance as they followed suit.

In less then five minutes, Rikkai was back, trailed by Mikabi, who quickly fell into her own routine. Sakura watched covertly as the other team fell into an obviously familiar formation, with Ikeda in front, leading the warm-up. It was time for her to run laps, though, so she couldn't watch very long.

"Hanazono, Kobayashi." Ikeda looked at the designated Doubles 2 players. "Get on the court."

"Yes, Ikeda-buchou!" The girls nodded sharply, racquets in hand.

Ikeda nodded in return, her own eyes alternating between Sanada's guest (Aizawa Sakura? Konishi? The exact name escaped her; she was just "Sanada's girl" or "the nutcracker", depending on who was talking- and whether Sanada was around) and Nomura Ayano. Two very, very interesting girls, but for different reasons.

At any rate, the two pairs were starting, and the match demanded her attention. "Which?" Seigaku, courteous as ever, had given them the choice.

"Smooth." Hanazono replied. The racquet spun, and landed. "It's rough." Seigaku chose to serve, and the players retreated to their positions.

"One set match," Nomura, the self-elected referee called. "Seigaku's Shizuka to serve!"

"Ours are Hanazono and Kobayashi." Ikeda murmured, and Nomura cast her a fleeting grin. "Noted."

"How's it going?"

"Fuck!"

"Language!" Nomura barked, glaring. The two in question looked suitably cowed until the captain had turned back to the game.

"You scared me!" Mikabi hissed. Sakura rolled her eyes. "Well, sorry. But how is it going?"

The other girl shrugged. "Okay, I think. They look evenly matched so far."

"Yeah, right." No pair was evenly-matched, ever. That only happened if they had the same skill-sets, as well as matching levels of proficiency and experience. Which… wasn't possible.

So one of them was planning something. Sakura could only hope it was their duo.

She'd be in Singles 3. Probably. Unless Reiko was, but considering the other girl had just come off an injury, the chances that captain would play her against Rikkai were… well, not low, but lower than Sakura's. Hopefully. Her own track record hadn't been great recently.

"Game, Seigaku, 2-1! Change court!"

.

"Game, Rikkai Dai, 2-all! Change court!"

.

"Game, Seigaku, 3-2! Change court!"

.

"Game, Rikkai Dai, 3-all! Change court!"

Mikabi and Sakura exchanged a glance. This was bad. And Imako and Shizuka knew it, too, if their faces were anything to go by.

"Why isn't Rikkai pressing their advantage?" Kazumi was fidgety, her fingers twisting and untwisting the ends of her braid. Reiko exhaled between clenched teeth. "They're playing about." She replied, nibbling at the straw of her canteen.

It was true, Sakura thought bitterly. The energy on either side of the net was testament to that. The Seigaku pair was all tension and gritted teeth and deep, deliberate breaths; the Rikkai players, on the other hand, were the very image of calm. The dull sheen to their skins and quicker-than-normal breaths were the only indications of activity. It wasn't difficult to figure out which side was fighting tooth and nail to break away, and which was holding on to the reins with the surety of an experienced puppeteer.

Rikkai was playing with them, like a cat with a toy. Anger bubbled in her stomach like hot oil.

It was Imako's turn to serve, and she looked quizzically at Shizuka. Now?

Shizuka shrugged. Might as well.

Okay, then. Imako threw the ball up. You want to take it slow, right? Let's go… slow and steady.

Mikabi's brow furrowed. "You get the feeling things are kinda… molassey?" She nudged both Sakura and Reiko, who frowned. "Just- very slow?"

Reiko squinted. "Now you mention it, it's true." She agreed. "Imako-senpai and Shizuka-chan aren't attacking like they were."

"Almost like they're going along with the other pair's strategy?" Sakura chimed in. "Sort of 'come at me', but slower." Both Reiko and Mikabi rolled their eyes in tandem. "What?"

"Come at me, but slower?" Mikabi snorted. Sakura elbowed her in the ribs. "Molassey."

"Takada, Kagawa, take a lap. Both courts." Nomura's head whipped around; both girls snapped to attention for a second before taking off as fast as they could.

"What's bitten her?" Mikabi muttered as they rounded the corner of the boys' courts; a temporary shield from captain's hawk-watch.

Sakura huffed. "Rikkai. Ikeda. God knows, really." She slowed to a jog, peering into the courts. "Look, they're starting with Singles."

Sure enough, Niou and Momoshiro were standing on either side of the net. "That's an interesting match-up." Mikabi remarked. "What d'you think?"

"Can't say." Sakura replied. She looked intrigued. "Niou's a tricky customer, but Momoshiro's a… well, he's a bit of a rascal. He's smarter than he looks, anyway; I wouldn't write him off. Wish we could watch."

"I'm sure Momoshiro wishes it too; but I believe you have your own matches to be getting back to." What was it with captains and omniscience? Sakura gulped as she met Tezuka's eyes through the fence; beside her, Mikabi let out a tiny groan.

He wasn't alone, however; on one side of him, Yukimura smiled, perhaps for once genuinely benign, who knew; on the other, Sanada stared at them- well, at her, really, he was too polite to stare at a girl he didn't know- and the sight of him made Sakura relax the tiniest amount. Odd, since he looked about as relaxed as a blocked intes— wait. What was that in his hair? Was it glinting?

It would be really rude to crane her neck and squint, but Sakura could have sworn that, in exactly the right light, there were glittering specks in Sanada's hair.

"Yes, Tezuka-buchou." Mikabi muttered. "We'll just… go. Do your best… um, all of you." She elbowed Sakura, who started, mumbled something along those lines, and trotted after her.

Yukimura pursed his lips in amusement. If there had been something other than curiosity in Kagawa's gaze, he might have teased Sanada mercilessly about the girl who couldn't take her eyes off him.

They might have lost, but Ikeda resolved to keep an eye on the Seigaku pair. "Couple of dark horses you've got, Ayano." She remarked in a low voice.

Nomura's shoulders stiffened, but she merely smiled rather than reprove the familiarity. That was good. "Your eye's as good as ever."

" 'Your eye's as good as ever', Kotone." Ikeda corrected, drifting half a step nearer.

The other girl pursed her lips. "Call your next pair, Ikeda."

Her lips pressed together for the fraction of a minute, before she turned away. "You can't avoid this forever, Ayano." She muttered, stalking away. "Satou! Takiyama! You're next!"

Kazumi eyed her captain. Seated as she was a few feet away, the conversation hadn't reached her ears, but she saw enough to concern her. Even more puzzling was the serenity of Nomura's expression, especially in contrast with the storm apparent on Ikeda's face. Sure, the two knew each other a bit, having crossed paths many times on the circuits growing up, but that wasn't a conversation between mere rivals, even friendly ones. Kazumi resolved to question Ayano later… delicately.

Mikabi and Rin were quick off the mark, taking the first two games before their opponents got their eye in. For two such opposite personalities, they played splendidly together; Mikabi was aggressive and flashy; no one credited Rin with game strategies until it was too late.

However, they were up against the best; it only took two games for Rikkai to notice and adjust their play accordingly, and the scores were soon level at 2-2. In the fifth game, Mikabi managed to hold her serve, despite two break points, and the scoreboard swung back in Seigaku's favour, 3-2.

Sakura shivered. "They're seriously outclassed." She whispered to herself. Immediately, she wished she hadn't; saying it made it far more true.

And it was true. Oh, perhaps Mikabi hit the ball harder, or Rin could come up with unexpected plays- but Satou and Takiyama were not for nothing the number one doubles pair in the country. They were experienced; they noticed weaknesses their opponents didn't even know they had, and could re-adjust strategies to exploit them; and their formations were… perfect. Absolutely, nauseatingly perfect.

"That one dances." Kazumi observed. "Takiyama, I mean. Jazz, or contemporary, I guess. Her footwork is incredible."

Sakura bumped her hip bracingly. "Yours is better, though, senpai."

The smile her senior gave her was amused, touched by sobriety. "It's not just the footwork. It's their plays. Can you tell?"

Sakura frowned, squinting at the Rikkai pair. "I mean, they're pretty damn flawless…"

"They're not looking at each other. They haven't looked at each other all game." Kazumi replied. Sakura stared at her. "That's not possible, senpai." She whipped her head around, looking at Satou and Takiyama. Sure, they weren't communicating much… or at all… right now, but— all game?

"This is doubles." Kazumi shook her head. "You can't dance alone, and when you have a partner, you can't dance without choreography."

In the end, the match wasn't as one-sided as it had looked: Mikabi and Rin lost 6-4. It was a respectable enough loss, but for someone like Mikabi, it might as well have been a whipping in the public square. She shook hands with her opponents grimly, and without a word to anyone, even her partner, strode off the courts, dropped her bag and racquet on a nearby bench, and jogged away.

Kazumi raised an eyebrow at Nomura, who sighed. "Kagawa, you're up."

"Yes, captain!"

"Rikkai's Urayama to serve!"

Singles 3 matches were slots of almost unbelievable pressure. The first singles game- the first game in the National Tournament- the determinant of the flow, the statement match. Teams usually saved their biggest wildcards for Singles 3.

Against Rikkai, take that pressure and crank it up a thousandfold. They were a side that usually overwhelmed their opponents in three straight matches, which meant that the Singles 3 player was in the unenviable position of keeping the team in the contest.

Sakura absorbed the pressure like a sponge. She hunkered down, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Fuckin' come at me.

Urayama was at least three inches shorter than her, and a discreet once-over had shown her to have a similar level of musculature. Then where, Sakura wondered, was that power coming from?

The serve bounced almost nose-high; it wasn't a big deal, after facing down Mikabi's comets twice every day, but it was a definite question mark.

Her return flew straight and true to the opposite corner—

Bang.

Urayama had appeared, and an almighty swing saw the ball slammed down the line.

When had she moved?! Sakura's eyes widened, then narrowed. This girl was a bag of surprises.

"15-love!"

This time, Sakura was ready for the return. Urayama may be fast, but—

"30-love!"

—she also hit hard. Sakura grimaced, flexing her fingers. She hadn't been braced for that kind of impact; the skin of her palm was chafed.

Urayama took the first game, but the final point wasn't a decisive one. It was a long rally- 16 shots, and then Sakura was a touch too late to reach the ball.

"Hmm." She straightened, her eyes narrow and hard. She eyed the ball as it bounced off the fence "Hmm."

Ikeda raised her eyebrows, interested. Urayama's game was calculated to surprise- nothing in her build or bearing hinted at the speed and power she possessed, and she liked to come out all guns blazing and stun her opponent. But while Kagawa was surprised- how could she not be- nothing in her bearing suggested intimidation.

Worry began to niggle at the back of her head. The feeling was a foreign one.

Sakura bounced the ball. She looked up at her opponent, ready, bouncing from foot to foot. Her lower lips found its way between her teeth, and she looked down again, bouncing the ball one last time. Then she threw it up.

With a small grunt, she brought the racquet down.

"Ooooh, nice." Kazumi murmured, pumping a fist in quiet celebration. "Ace straight off."

"15-love!"

Urayama's head, in mimicry of Sakura's own earlier reaction, turned from her opponent to the ball bouncing behind her, and back again. A single eyebrow rose towards her hairline.

Sakura, if she noticed the look, made no sign. She merely bounced the fresh ball that Nomura tossed to her, and took her position again.

Slowly, as though reconsidering something, Urayama sank back into her stance.

This time, she caught up to the serve- an easy one, really- and instead of targeting the opposite corner, sent an arrow-fast return to Sakura's feet. She had certainly done her homework, Sakura thought.

But then, so had she. Instead of being caught on the run, she braked; the arrest in momentum wasn't prettily done, but it was effective. It gave her time to scoop the ball up and flick it over the net with a clever twist of her wrist.

"30-love!"

Urayama's first strategy was a clear failure: not only was Sakura un-cowed by the surprise of her abilities, she had also, it seemed, implemented a style of play that allowed her to cover for her clumsy footwork, the one glaring weakness that her opponent had counted on.

A few scant days training with Kazumi weren't going to help her overcome it, of course; instead, her senior, shelving for the time being their long-term goal, had drilled her relentlessly in start-stop manoeuvres, demanding that she be able to stop running and get into position at literally any point in the game, in any direction. Sakura made sure to consistently register her displeasure in a loud and repetitive manner, and Kazumi made sure that she completed each and every drill to her personal satisfaction. And, as every dancer knows, there is no such thing.

Which meant that Urayama could make Sakura run in every known direction and target her feet with every shot; Sakura would simply slam to an inelegant halt, fall into position, and send the ball whizzing to the white-painted corner of the singles court.

"Game, Kagawa, 2-1!" Sakura breathed deeply, trying to focus. She'd broken Urayama successfully; now she absolutely had to hold serve and widen the gap, not be broken in return and let her equalise.

A hard task, since Urayama was now absolutely determined to break her in return.

"Deuce!" Nomura stretched, cracking her spine as she did. Kazumi and Reiko winced.

Sakura gritted her teeth. This was not happening. No way was she going to let that elite shock-value con-woman break her serve.

Urayama hit hard, and she hit long. All Sakura had to do was get to the ball every time- and it was starting to look like it was all she could do.

"This is turning into a hell of a rally." Mikabi, newly returned from her self-punitive run, flopped down beside her bag. Kazumi nodded, gnawing her lip. "15 – no, 16 shots and counting- 17– oh shit, she's not gonna reach that-!"

Urayama sent the ball sailing over the net to the back corner. Heart hammering with more than adrenaline, Sakura turned and ran. Deuce court to back court corner, her eyes were glued to the ball she chased down, her muscles already tense and ready, her mind clear.

Rikkai's captain narrowed her eyes. She'll make it.

A collective gasp went up from the watchers as Sakura's racquet connected; the ball skittered across as she sliced.

Urayama, to her credit, dived for it, but it was simply too far.

"Advantage, Kagawa!"

"That was impressive." Ikeda nodded once to Nomura. "It wasn't a fluke."

Nomura smiled faintly. "Kagawa doesn't play by flukes. Unlike somebody I know."

The other girl chuckled. "Educated guesses, Ayano."

"If you say so. Game, Kagawa, 3-1!" Nomura called. "Change court!"

"Game and match, Seigaku's Kagawa! 7-5!" Sakura let out an almighty sigh of satisfaction, her entire body weight finally falling back on her heels. Trudging up to the net, she shook hands with Urayama and gave her a tired smile. "Good game." She offered.

The other girl smiled too, albeit a little tightly. "You as well."

"Good game!" Reiko thumped her back. A squawk of protest went ignored, so Sakura did the next best thing: refill her bottle.

The excursion to the taps took her to a place where she could safely view the boys' matches. Doubles 1 was on now, by the looks of it: Kikumaru-senpai and Oishi-senpai against Rikkai's Marci-Kuwahara. Seemed like a tight contest.

She wondered what had happened to Momoshiro's match. As she shoved her bottle under the tap, footsteps approached.

"Sanada-san, hey." She nodded at him, smiling. He nodded at her in reply, exactly the same as last time. "Kagawa-san. You've finished your match?"

"Ah, yeah. Just now." She answered, turning the tap off. "You're playing Singles 1?"

He raised an eyebrow, silently enquiring how she had guessed. Taking the hint, she explained: "You started with Singles, but you're not sweaty, though two singles matches should be over now. So… either you're playing Singles 1, or you're not playing at all today… and obviously, I picked the likelier of those two scenarios. You don't seem like someone who wouldn't play, given the chance."

It was uncanny, he mused, regarding her as he admitted the logic of her reasoning. There weren't many people he made small talk with, and even fewer who voluntarily made small talk with him first. Kagawa Sakura was… unusual, certainly. And perceptive, though in view of her debating skill, that was a given.

What was more unusual was the lack of consciousness with which she addressed him. He wasn't a vain person, he hoped- he certainly tried not to be- but the athletic prowess he had achieved naturally brought with it a certain… notoriety. Awe, even. Few addressed him at all; even fewer spoke to him with the freedom and informality that Kagawa consistently employed.

At any rate, he'd lingered too long on a simple errand. "Excuse me." He nodded at her in farewell, before turning away.

"I quit the debate club." Sakura blurted out.

While it wasn't really his business, the information did give Sanada pause. It was rather unexpected, even in view of the little he knew of her.

He turned back, but before he could reply, she was speaking again, and he wasn't rude enough to interrupt, even if she was rather voluble. "I just figured, y'know, that I've got another year, and if I use this year properly for tennis, I can achieve a lot more than half-assign both, and then I can give next year completely to debate. I can put both on my college applications too, along with- hopefully- a high level of achievement in them both, so it's really for the best, even if I do miss— never mind that." She blushed.

"My point is, I listened to what you said, about prioritising and doing things with my whole heart, and I'm going to remember that. What you said. So, thank you, I guess. Well, no, I don't guess. I mean that. Thank you." She smiled at him with naïve honesty, and he felt a little nonplussed. Eventually, he settled for another nod of acknowledgement.

Her smile quirked, acquired a touch of humour. "You don't talk much, do you? Or are you more chatty when you hang out with your friends?"

"Chatty?" He repeated. Friends?

"I… speak to Yukimura regarding what the club requires." And why was he telling her this again?

She waved his words away as though waving away a flea. "That's business. Don't you hang out outside of school with your other friends?"

She raised an eyebrow at his blank expression. "Friends, Sanada-san. Non-tennis-related people doing non-tennis-related things? Like, fun things?"

Sanada stared right back, discomfited.

"Huh." Sakura sagged back, bracing her hands on the sink. "That… explains a lot, actually."

Was that an insult? Just in case, he glared at her.

"Hey, gimme your cell phone." She held out a hand, and as though under a spell, he handed it over.

And then thought better of it, but too late; she'd already flipped it open and was busy typing.

"What are you doing!" He exclaimed. Horrifying scenarios ran through his mind– lewd text messages to his teammates, putting his number on Facebook, or, god forbid, lewd text messages to his teachers, or- or the other schools! He glared at her, as though his phone would sense it and scuttle back over.

It stayed put in her hand. The dirty traitor.

She flashed him a sly look as he handed it back. "Put my number into it." She announced. "And texted myself."

"Why?"

She gave him a once-over that seemed to… answer? What was the question?

"Sanada-san," And there was an intensity to her look that instantly put him on guard. "I'm going to be your first non-tennis friend!"

Sanada opened his mouth. And then closed it. What was he supposed to say to that?

Kagawa, for her part, seemed perfectly satisfied. "I'll see you around." She smiled, winking at him. She pushed herself off the sink and began to walk away. Abruptly, a thought seemed to strike her (he braced himself) and she swivelled around.

"By the way, you know your hair's glittering, right?"

She came in like a wrecking ball… poor Sanada.

I'm officially still on hiatus, but I will be working on the new chapter during this time. I just don't know when I'll be able to polish and post it.

May the coming year bring you love, luck and endless inspiration. Happy New Year, everyone!

As always, reviews are love!

Cheers,
Chilli.