Bildungsroman
Chapter 29
Thank you for all your encouragement! And a HUGE thank you to eunoiapaint, for the kindest, loveliest review I've ever received. This one is for you!
I've crossed 100 reviews guys WHAT
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, with no copyright infringement intended. I don't own PoT, which belongs to Takeshi Konomi.
Something stole over the camp, winding its way amongst them like a smell. No matter where you went, you couldn't escape it. It was in their spines, in the extra laps they ran without prompting, in the miles they logged on the treadmills. It was in the curve of Mei's smile, in Mikabi's thrown-back shoulders, in the tightening of Nomura's ponytail.
It stared out of their mirrors, glinting and gleaming in their eyes.
Eight places. 39 girls.
Well, 6 places and 37 girls, really, Sakura thought, as, on the cross-trainer, Nomura mopped her brow and upped the incline. Only 6.
She wanted this– to play in front of all of Japan, against an international team– Sakura wanted this badly.
"Singles 3, representing Japan, KAGAWA SAKURA!"
Her heartbeat quickened.
She had a chance. But if she'd learnt anything from Tezuka, it was never to let her guard down. Sakura wiped her forehead, and began the fourth set of pushups.
The gym was always crowded now: Atobe, Kazumi, and Ikeda monopolised the cables, while Mikabi had all but colonised the shoulder press and squat rack; Kikumaru had almost scared Mei to death with his oxygen-restricting mask on the treadmill; Mei herself had something of a rivalry going on with An over dumbbell exercises. Sakura often found herself training with Fuji, Kazumi, and surprisingly enough, Ikeda.
"Your footwork is better now, and you're definitely nothing to sneeze at in doubles," The Rikkai captain said, after they'd pushed their limits on the cycles. "But you could be a top-notch singles player if you focused on the right things– not just your aim," She grinned. "Fitness, reflexes, game plans. Echizen is great because he's unpredictable, but look at Fuji, Tezuka, Nomura, even Sanada. They have a few set strategies planned around their signature moves, especially Tezuka. The Tezuka Zone is planned and methodical; only an equally methodical approach can break it, and make sure it stays broken. I don't think even Yukimura can do it; if he can, he's never said."
"Have they ever played each other?" Sakura wondered. "Tezuka-senpai and Yukimura-san?"
Ikeda considered this. "Not that I've ever heard of. Huh. Isn't that funny?" She tossed her towel back into her bag. "They've played on the same circuit for how long, six years? Nah, longer if you count elementary school. And a match like that would be legendary. You know people still talk about Sanada and Tezuka's Nationals match?"
Sakura scoffed. "With one's messed-up shoulder and the other's messed-up knees? Bit hard to forget, don't you think?"
She yelped as Ikeda smacked her head. "Don't get clever," The older girl warned. "Even if you're right. The point is, you need to focus on strategy, not just tactics or ace-in-the-hole shots. Predictability can be your strength." She poked Sakura gently on the forehead. "You just need to use more of this."
Sakura jolted awake. Mikabi was sitting upright in bed, not having bothered with sleep. "D'you mind turning on the light?" Her face was half-lit by her phone screen. Sakura threw off her blankets and flicked the light switch up. She raised an eyebrow at the nest of blankets on Mikabi's bed, crowned by Mei's black hair.
Mikabi went faintly pink, but ignored the implied question. "Four minutes to the lists." She ground out. Sakura blinked, and dived for her own phone. Oh, wow. That was… right. Less than five minutes till five AM. No wonder Mikabi was so wired. The team lists were going to be uploaded today.
"You'll be on it." She said, and it was less a platitude than an avowal of confidence. Of faith. Of knowledge.
I know how good you are. I know how hard you've worked. I know, Mikabi-chan, better than anyone, how badly you want this.
And yet, Sakura didn't know how the selections were made. She didn't know whether the coaches would pick any one of them.
I know that anyone who doesn't pick you is a fool.
Would it be enough? Would it?
Mikabi had given so much. No one, not even Sakura or Ikeda or Nomura, had logged more gym hours, or court sessions, or more time with the pitching machines. Surely, surely that meant something?
Sakura just didn't know.
"I know you'll be on it."
They weren't prodigies, she and Mikabi. They were just two girls who didn't mind bruised knuckles and skinned knees. Who didn't mind the work, the climb to the top. Or perhaps Sakura was the one who didn't mind. Mikabi… Mikabi wanted the work.
Three minutes. Sakura's screen bloomed with a text; Mikabi's beeped. Regular group message.
Girls With Balls. Incoming message: Nomura-buchou.
I'm proud of you all.
Mei stirred. "Ya girls're crazy." She mumbled, cracking an eye open and shutting it almost immediately against the light.
Mikabi nudged her with a foot; Sakura saw the blankets twitch a fraction. "Go back to sleep, lazybones."
But Mei was already sitting up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Too late." She complained. "Hones'ly, th' resul's gonna be th'same whe'r ya see 'em now'r la'er."
She did throw one end of the blanket around Mikabi's shoulders, though. "Yer f'ckin' freezin'." Mei said, before settling next to Mikabi and training her eyes on the screen. Sakura looked down to hide her burgeoning smile. Looks like my work here is done.
Two minutes.
Airi had taught her breathing techniques, hadn't she? Sakura groped around her memories for one.
One minute. She opened up her chat with Sanada and began to type.
Good luck, love. Backspace. Good luck, sweetheart. Backspace. No matter what– backspace. She couldn't even type it. Not even as a 'never to be sent' text.
She locked the phone. Unlocked it. Opened a browser window and her camp dashboard. Breathed.
Her alarm flashed before a second before she cut it out. She barely felt the glass surface as she refreshed the page and tapped the new link there.
Error 429. Too many requests.
.
.
.
"You're joking." Sakura bit out.
Across the room, Mikabi and Mei were making similar sounds of outrage.
Their phones buzzed once, twice– and then it became a continuous series beeps and buzzing. Sakura glanced over the message previews, not bothering to open any.
Kazumi-senpai: TOO MANY REQUESTS THERE'S LIKE 70…
Nomura-buchou: I'm calling Ryuzaki-sensei. What shit is…
Ikeda Rikkai Captain: KAGAWA DID YOU MANAGE TO DOW…
Imako-senpai: Wow their backend work sucks. Gonna see…
Momo-baka: Oi, we can't open the page. Can you check if…
Sanada Genichirou: Stay calm. Seiichi and Renji are trying…
Kazumi-senpai: WHAT SHITTY 90S CODING IS THIS?!
Mei was red in the face. "Wha' fuckin' shit–"
Sakura flung her phone across the bed with a tiny shriek. "I can't fucking believe them." She fumed.
Mikabi inhaled. Deep and deliberate; she closed her eyes and pushed the fury and frustration down ruthlessly.
"Let's calm down." She could barely recognise her own voice. And were those her words? "We've let this build up into something bigger than it is. Let's get some rest, and check again later. Error 429s take a bit of time to fix."
Sakura and Mei stared at her. Mikabi rolled her shoulders; after a second, she rolled out of bed. "It's like Mei said," She slipped out of her slippers and into her running shoes. "The lists'll be the same whether we see them now or later. I'm going for a run. Sakura– talk to Ryuzaki-sensei or Tezuka-senpai if you think it'll help. Mei– don't touch my sour candies. I will kill you."
With that, she departed, leaving a rather weighty silence behind her.
Mei was a bit pink in the face. "She's… wow, she's jus'…"
Sakura exhaled, impressed and a little amused. "Well, she is gonna be captain."
Almost reluctantly, Mei slipped out of Mikabi's bed. "I'd be'er go," She sighed. "Should prolly be wi' th'team."
She left, closing the door softly behind her. All in all, Sakura thought, disgruntled, the night had turned into bit of an anti-climax.
But Mikabi's approach made sense; a 30-minute snooze later, Sakura rolled out of bed and shrugged on her gym clothes, slightly less annoyed and wound-up. Which, considering the general atmosphere when she entered the place, was a good thing.
People were frazzled at least and pissed at worst. She made a mental note to avoid the section where Kirihara was laying into a punching bag like it had personally insulted him. Well, better it than a live person.
The only other calm soul in the gym was Tezuka, so once she had finished stretching, Sakura made a beeline for the cross-trainer next to him. "Good morning, Tezuka-sen– Coach Tezuka."
He nodded in acknowledgement. "Kagawa."
She set the training programme she wanted, but hesitated. "Can I ask," She began carefully. "What's being done to resolve the… website issues?"
Tezuka pressed his lips together. "The situation is being dealt with." He replied. "There seems to be some problem with the… web host?" He looked unsure for a split-second. Sakura could sympathise.
"Yeah, I have no idea what that means either." She shook her head. "Best leave it to the pros, I guess?"
Tezuka acquiesced with another curt nod; Sakura took the hint and hit 'Start' on her machine.
Two hours later, Sakura returned to her room. Her tank and tracks were soaked, and she didn't exactly smell her best.
A change and a spritz of deo later, she made her way to the mess hall. "Hey," She slipped into a seat opposite Mikabi and Fuji with a loaded plate and cup of tea. "Morning, senpai."
"Good morning, Sakura-chan. I see you escaped Kirihara's temper this morning."
Sakura snorted. "Blind luck. Tezuka-senpai was in the gym too; safest place was next to him."
Fuji laughed. "I'm sure. Tezuka is a knight even without trying."
She made a face at him. "What did you do with yourself in the morning?"
He took a sip of tea. "Oh, a bit of this and that." Which could mean anything from gardening to world domination.
The usual chatter was only a low hum; most people were either still pissed (Kirihara, Kaidoh) or sleepy (Junko, Momoshiro). Neither made for great conversation. Over at the Rikkai tables, Sanada, Ikeda, and Yanagi were deep in conversation; Yukimura smiled at Sakura over his cup.
Sakura smiled back. As she tuned back into the halting conversation between Fuji and Mikabi, however, the Head Coaches rose.
"Good morning, athletes." Sakaki began. "To start with, I would like to apologise for the server crash this morning. The problem is being resolved, but will take one or two days. Thus, as tomorrow is the final day of this selection camp, the team lists will be announced now."
Absolute silence descended on the room. Sakura sat up straighter. Across the table, Mikabi swallowed. Mei's eyes were trained on her; she looked upset.
"Before we announce the teams, we would like to congratulate all of you on the spirit and enthusiasm with which you have taken on the challenges of the past two weeks." Sakaki said. "Regardless of whether you are selected or not, we hope you will continue to show the same passion and dedication going forward, and grow as tennis players and citizens of Japan."
Hanamura took up the reins. "Every girl present here has distinguished herself in some way." She said. "There was a case to include each and every one of you, but there are, in the end, only eight places, including a reserve. So without further ado, Ryuzaki-sensei will now announce the roster for the women's Senior Invitational team."
Every girl in the room held her breath.
"Ikeda Kotone!"
Polite applause filled the room. It could not have been clearer that no one was actually surprised.
"Nomura Ayano!"
The applause was equally low-key.
"Kagawa Sakura!"
Sakura let out a huge sigh as Fuji beamed at her. Mikabi scrawled something on a tennis ball and tossed it at her, grinning; a smiley-face.
Sanada nodded at her from the Rikkai table; Sakura's stomach did a happy backflip, even as Ryuzaki-sensei called out the next name: "Yamada Junko!"
Ikeda slapped the table. "Oh, yes!" She cheered.
"Shijimi Shouko!" The Hyotei captain. There was going to be some serious jockeying for Singles 1, Sakura thought.
"Takada Mikabi!" Sakura cheered, flinging the ball back across the table. Momoshiro thumped Mikabi's shoulder vigorously.
The girl herself looked shell-shocked.
"Takiyama Midori!" Rikkai's best doubles player. Kazumi looked a little crestfallen, but it made sense.
"And the reserve player will be Tachibana An!" Ryuzaki-sensei gave an emphatic nod. An was a good choice: clever, talented, and above all, versatile. She could stand in for almost anyone in the lineup (except maybe in Singles 1, Sakura thought, because all three probables were straight-up freaks). It didn't hurt that people likedher, either; basic liking always made for decent combination. Well, unless you were Momoshiro and Kaidoh.
The Fudomine players cheered, delighted, but the Yamabuki and Rokkaku contingents looked upset; not a single player had been chosen from amongst them. Sakura glanced at Fuyuki and received a filthy look in return.
She scowled and returned her attention to the front, where Sakaki-sensei and Banda-sensei were announcing the boys' team. Even if it was mostly a foregone conclusion.
"Atobe Keigo!"
"Sanada Genichirou!"
"Yukimura Seiichi!"
"Kirihara Akaya!"
Mikabi raised an eyebrow. "That's three for Rikkai." She murmured.
"Fuji Syusuke!" Sakura gave him a broad smile. Of course, they wouldn't get to play doubles together, but just having him there would be more than enough.
"Echizen Ryoma!" He'd been the reserve at the Juniors, hadn't he? Oh well, it wasn't like they could leave out the boy who'd played the US Open.
The last two places were the question marks. But one, at least, Mei had gotten right: "Kikumaru Eiji!"
Sakura giggled as the redhead practically rocketed across the table to latch onto Oishi. Sakaki cleared his throat. "And the reserve will be Oshitari Yuushi." The latter adjusted his spectacles, smirking. He didn't look particularly downcast.
A wave of chatter swelled, only to bubble down as Hanamura cleared her throat. "And for the mixed doubles, we have selected the following pairs– Momoshiro Takeshi and Akitaka Mei, and Yagyuu Hiroshi and Fuyuki Sachiko."
Applause filled the room again, and all the selected players were asked to stay back. The rest headed off to group training.
Nomura smiled at Sakura and Mikabi. "Can't say I'm surprised," She clapped Mikabi on the shoulder. "But I am proud."
Sakura slung an arm around Mei. "Well done you." She shot Sanada a smile over her shoulder as well, but that's when Sakaki-sensei called for quiet, and quiet he got.
"Congratulations to you all." Sakura wondered if he'd ever sounded anything apart from utterly monotone. Probably not. "You will begin practising for the tournament for the tournament from today. After tomorrow, however, you will attend rigorous daily practice and strategy sessions at the Tokyo Sports Club. Transportation will be arranged for those living outside the Tokyo metropolitan area. You are, of course, free to make your own arrangements." He nodded at the Rikkai players.
"Finally, we have collectively decided that the manager will be Ms Hardinge, while Tezuka-kun and Tachibana-kun will be the team trainers."
"We will be forming an online messaging group in order to facilitate better communication. One player will collect everyone's phone numbers and hand them in to Coach Hanamura by the end of practice today. Dismissed!"
Fuji, Mikabi, Sakura, and Mei headed for the door. "They didn't say who'd be collecting the numbers." Sakura observed. Mikabi shrugged. "Guess it's up to us. Think I'll do it." She hurried ahead, chasing down the trio of Atobe, Sanada, and Kirihara. Mei and Sakura blinked.
Fuji tilted his head. "I'm beginning to see why Nomura chose her."
Momoshiro, Mei, Mikabi, and Sakura sat clustered in a corner of the common room; Mikabi and Mei were engaged in a heated debate over the rough drawing of a tennis court, as Sakura walked Momoshiro through the finer points of differential equations. She sympathised with his dead-eyed look, she really did; but he was going to need to know this for the exams.
Their friendship was an odd one, she sometimes thought: they were at one another's throats as often as having each other's backs. It wasn't unlike what he had going with Kaidoh (though probably less violent); she wondered how they'd work as a doubles pair. Not too bad, probably. Nothing to what she and Fuji-senpai had going, but they could probably make it work well enough.
Ah, if only she was sticking around next year. They could've found out.
Mei leaned over to slash at Mikabi's latest scribble. "That's daft, c'mon–"
"Not if you–"
"There's no way–"
Sakura peered at Momoshiro's latest attempt. "No, though it's close." She tapped the sixth step. "You're alright till here– take a closer look at this bit. Go slow."
He tugged at his hair, frustrated, but obeyed nonetheless. She bent over Sanada's book, hoping to get through more than three paragraphs this time. But just then, Kirihara connected his phone to the speakers and hit 'play'.
Honest-to-god screaming filled the room.
"Fuck!" Junko yelped. She was closest to the speakers.
"Dammit, Akaya–" Ikeda threw a ball at him. It missed him by a mile. "Turn that off!"
He did nothing of the sort. "I'm boooooooored." He whined. "You're all boooooooring."
"I'd rather be boring than deaf!" Kazumi snapped. "Turn it off, brat!"
But anyone with eyes could read that mulish expression. Kirihara had always been a stubborn asshole. On the court it was a virtue. Off it… not so much.
"Ugh, where the fuck is Yukimura when you need him–"
"Nah, Kabaji," A drawl sounded from the door. "Put an end to this cacophony."
Sakura and Mikabi exchanged an incredulous look; Kirihara turned, ready to fight, but Kabaji moved shockingly fast. The smaller boy yelled and struggled, but suspended as he was by the scruff of the collar, it was… well. Ineffective. His eyes had gone comically wide. "H-Hey! Kabaji, put me down! Atobe, you bastard! Put me down! My phone– hey, my phone!"
Kabaji plucked the phone out of one flailing hand and pinched the AUX jack out. Atobe plucked it out of his hand in turn. "Maa, Kirihara," He shook his head. "If you must indeed cause a disturbance, do show some taste. Kabaji, the AUX."
"Usu."
Atobe plugged it in.
"Now… be awed by ore-sama's flawless taste!"
Momoshiro snorted, but it went unheard among the flowing notes that filled the room. "Wow," Kazumi murmured. "That is good taste."
That, apparently, Atobe heard. "Of course, Sato-san. Ore-sama's preferences are for nothing but the finest. And now, for a real diversion," He sauntered over. "Would you care to dance, Sato-san?" He extended a hand.
"Unbelievable," Sakura breathed. "How can you be so full of yourself and so charming?"
Momo spluttered. "Charming?"
After a moment's gaping, Kazumi shrugged. "Sure, why not?" She took Atobe's hand. "Surprise me, Atobe-san."
"Ore-sama always exceeds expectations. You need have no fear, Sato-san. Kabaji," He looked over his shoulder. "Release the child."
Sakura stuffed her knuckles into her mouth, but the dirty look Kirihara threw her promised revenge at no very distant date. "Ne, Momoshiro," She nudged him. "This brings back memories, doesn't it?" Not that she and Momoshiro had looked anything like Atobe and Kazumi, who were gliding about the room like they were stepping on water.
"If you mean junior prom, all I remember are your heels on my toes." He shot back. "And the card games I lost, yeah."
Sakura laughed. "Oh yeah, I do remember stepping on your toes a lot– sorry– also, you still owe me 80 yen from that night."
"I'll treat you. You wanna dance?" Ikeda, Oishi, Junko, An, and Oshitari had all joined the opening pair.
Oshitari, unsurprisingly, could really dance.
Sakura mimed vomiting. "No thanks. You'd best go grab An before Oshitari–" She giggled as Momo all but bounded off, and went back to her book. Mei and Mikabi joined the group too, which had now expanded thanks to the more swing-y tune Atobe and Kazumi had compromised on.
More and more people flowed into the common room, attracted by the laughter and music; Eiji quickly pounced on Oishi with a delighted squawk, while Tezuka and Kaidoh appeared to have glued their backsides to chairs as soon as they realised what was going on. Not unlike herself, Sakura thought. Inui would probably get Kaidoh out there– or Momo would provoke him– but Tezuka remained true to his moniker, despite Fuji's best efforts.
Kazumi was now teaching Ikeda some complicated footwork– the grapevine, Sakura recognised. Ikeda seemed to be picking it up a lot faster than she had. Not that Sakura was any barometer for dance prowess, but Kazumi seemed pleased. Even Kirihara seemed to be getting into it, wheedling Junko into doing some approximation of a dance– it looked like a variation of disco, only worse. Sakura threw a paper ball at him, hooting, and was rewarded for her efforts by his ever-ready finger.
"Not dancing, Sakura-chan?" Fuji had apparently given up on Tezuka. She grinned. "You know me better than that, senpai."
The look of melting entreaty he turned on her would have softened the hardest of hearts. "Would you leave me partnerless, Sakura-chan?" He even opened his eyes– such lovely, lovely eyes– and pouted at her.
"Fuji-senpai," Sakura glanced around the room. "There are at least three people here who'd love you to ask them. And I really can't dance."
He pouted even harder. "But Sakura- chan, I'm shy."
"That," She told him severely. "Is such a lie that you ought to be ashamed of yourself."
One dance turned into two, three, four, turned into Sakura laughing as Kazumi twirled around her, steps light and easy as breathing. Sakura could only imagine she looked somewhat like an elephant, but one arm was around Mikabi's waist, and Fuji had a firm hold on the other, and she had never felt less like falling.
Sakura caught Sanada's eye, and returned his raised eyebrow with a wide grin. They had yet to exchange a word since the selection announcements that morning, and she hadn't even seen him walk in. Yukimura was eyeing her with what looked like suppressed laughter.
"Hey!" She exclaimed, breaking out of Fuji's grip with some effort. "Not joining in?"
His eyes raked over her, and she became aware of how flushed and sweaty she was. Laughing nervously, she gathered up her hair into a bun from where it was sticking to her nape.
Yukimura laughed softly and offered her a hair-tie out of fucking nowhere. Magic. "You put on quite a show, Kagawa-san."
Sanada snorted. Sakura threw him a glare. "Rude much?" She sniped. He raised both eyebrows, gaze drifting from her to the group still jostling around the middle of the room. She smiled fondly as Fuji allowed Eiji to whirl him around. The two of them looked like tops– in Fuji's case, a slightly unbalanced one. He caught her eye and gave her a rueful smile.
"Fuji isn't much of a dancer." Sanada observed. Sakura shrugged, a smile still playing on her lips. "He's really not that bad. I think we all expect him to be so good at everything that it's a little shocking when he's just… okay. But I'm going to sit down for a bit– promise Fuji-senpai an inch and he spins you a mile, honestly… Thanks for the scrunchie, by the way." She nodded at Yukimura. "I'll give it back after dinner, if that's okay?"
He waved it away. "Keep it, I don't use it much. I think I should probably persuade Akaya to give Yamada a rest, though. Not everyone has his stamina."
"Make sure you ask him how this started." Sakura told him, smirking. "And if you pass Atobe-san, thank him for me, will you?"
He paused, eyebrow rising. "Duly noted." His tone was very dry indeed.
Sanada shook his head as Yukimura walked off. "You know, not many people employ him as an errand boy."
Sakura shrugged, sinking to the floor and pulling her book towards her… well, his book, really. "It'll be good for him. Builds character."
He rolled his eyes. "Which is why you did it, I'm sure."
"Hey, two birds, one stone."
They fell silent, watching the group absently. Eiji had now thrown himself into trying to persuade Tezuka onto the floor. Momoshiro, Sakura was amused to see, was rather inexpertly spinning An away from any other potential partners– inexpertly because he seemed to think that barely touching her fingers was the same as holding her hand. Fortunately, An too seemed more amused than annoyed.
Mei and Mikabi were dancing… well, if not precisely close, at least together. Mei's eyes visibly warmed as Mikabi demonstrated a truly appalling grasp of how belly dancing worked. Sakura couldn't help but sigh at the sight of them.
Sanada looked at her quizzically. "What is it?"
She gestured vaguely at Mikabi and Mei. He looked confused for a moment, but Sanada wasn't stupid. "Ah." He said after a moment. Then again, he'd been at that breakfast before the finals, hadn't he? "I see your… matchmaking has paid off."
Sakura sighed again. "They're so cute. It's almost disgusting."
He emitted a tiny sound that could be called laughter. "A common thing for a first relationship, I've noticed. Still," He leaned back against the wall. "Takada does look… relaxed. She's a little serious."
Sakura shot him a look. "Are you complimenting my friend, or insulting her?"
Bit rich coming from him!
After a moment, she turned to face him fully. "We didn't get a chance to talk in the morning, so congratulations on making the team." Her grin took on a teasing edge. "What a shocker."
He treated that with the attention it deserved, ie, none at all. "Thank you. You as well– although after your showing at the Kantou, I'm not surprised."
Warmth crept into her cheeks. "…Thanks." She cleared her throat and cast about for a new subject. "So, have they told you the lineup yet?"
Sanada shook his head. "Tachibana said he'll let us know when we get to Tokyo. Something about minimising the chances of a leak." He rolled his eyes. "Apparently these matches will attention from more than just Monthly Pro Tennis."
Sakura felt a little queasy. "What, really? I don't know, Anne's already told us our positions and stuff. She didn't seem that bothered."
Sanada considered this. "Well, Hardinge-san is a foreigner. Perhaps things are different in Europe." He frowned suddenly. "Also, 'Anne'?"
"She told us to call her that. Perhaps," She fixed him with her best deadpan look. "Things are different in Europe."
Sakura, Mikabi, Imako, and Kazumi spent the bus ride home locked in a poker battle; Imako was an absolute monster at poker, about as expressive as a blank slate. Sakura privately wanted to see her and Tezuka in a showdown, assuming Tezuka ever gambled. The chances of that were low.
Anyway, he, Nomura, Ryuzaki-sensei and Inui were talking about something pretty intensely. Probably the upcoming training. Sakura had never seen the facilities at the Tokyo Sports Club, but Nomura and Tezuka probably knew them well enough. Add Inui to the mix, and the already-brutal menu was guaranteed to be hellish.
And it was.
It was a wonder that Sakura managed to schedule any tutoring with Oishi at all, between early mornings with Kazumi ("If you think I'm going to let you represent Japan with that footwork–!"), nine to five team training under Tezuka, Tachibana, and Anne ("Faster, Sakura, faster!"), and evenings with Imako, Nomura, and a laptop. Sometimes Ikeda dropped by too, which was always fun, but the Rikkai captain's brand of slavedriving was scarcely less mentally exhausting.
She managed to squeeze in a conversation or two with Sanada, but never in private. He lived too far, they were training too hard, and there was just too little time.
"You're doing a lot, Sakura-chan," Oishi told her, eyes warm with approval. "Don't blame yourself for not getting this quickly– I know I struggled with it." They either met over lunch at the club, or after her evening sessions, also at the club. Lunch sessions were rare; not just her time constraints. Funnily enough, Kikumaru jumping all over the place (and her tutor) was a bit of a deterrent.
But still, she did manage to complete her Biology homework in bits and pieces. Papa even made chirashizushi that night to celebrate. "You're going to be a wonderful example for your sibling, sweetheart," He told her, running a tender hand over Aiki's swollen belly. Her mother nodded.
There was a lump in Sakura's throat as she bent over her bowl, cheeks burning.
Two more months till baby Hanae or Yusuke came into the world. Just over a month till the National Tournament finals. If the past months had taught her anything, though, it was that only the here and now mattered.
The day of the Senior Invitational dawned bright and warm. The sun rose over Tokyo Bay, pink and ruthless and so very welcome. Sakura watched it from her bedroom window, the breeze playing with her bangs. It was five-thirty, and she was stretched and dressed.
It wasn't time to be ready just yet. Sakura breathed, deep and measured, and turned to the door when it opened.
"Hey." Momoko tossed her bag onto the bed. "You feeling good?"
Sakura considered this, turning back to take in the dawn. "I think so."
Momoko hummed, dragging a pouffe over to the mirror. "Good enough. Sit, I'll do your hair."
She obeyed. "You look nice, Momo-chan." She remembered Momoko hemming and hawing over that top, unsure whether to go with a bright green or the textured grey she was currently wearing. Kagome had eventually snapped and made her toss for it.
The other girl grinned at her in the mirror. "Thanks." She began brushing, and Sakura closed her eyes to savour the feeling. It had been ages since someone else had brushed her hair. "You okay with a French braid?" Momoko asked, carding her fingers through Sakura's hair between strokes. "It'll keep the hair out of your face and stay in place longer."
Sakura hummed. Momoko was a wizard with hair, so there was no fear she'd look anything less than her best. "Where's Airi?"
"Downstairs." Momoko replied. They didn't speak for a while; Momoko sang an old lullaby softly, and Sakura listened.
"Done." Momoko said, at last. Sakura surveyed her reflection. "It looks great, Momo-chan," She declared, jumping up and planting a kiss on her friend's cheek. "You're the best."
Airi was pottering about the kitchen, obeying her mother's instructions, when the two girls finally made it down. "Huh." She nodded at Sakura's hair. "Looks good on you."
Aiki rose, ponderous and careful, and slipped an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "You look beautiful, sweetheart." She patted her stomach. "The little one thinks so too."
Sakura ran her hands over her mother's stomach. "You think so, darling?" She murmured, kneeling to press her nose gently against her sibling. She liked to imagine that they were pressing back. "Thank you." She dropped a kiss on the coral cloth, and stood. Momoko and her mother's eyes were suspiciously shiny.
Sakura cleared her throat. "So, breakfast?"
Papa had had to go in to work today, but he'd whipped up a truly stunning breakfast before leaving, and true to form, there was enough to feed a small army: brown rice with ikura and furikake, umeboshi, yakizakana, miso soup, and natto. Aiki had most of the natto, anyway; none of the girls particularly loved it.
"Your dad," Airi proclaimed. "Is amazing."
The girls left first, with Nurse Arashi promising to bring Aiki right on time and Momoko promising to protect her seat. The bus arrived, and Sakura, kit bag and all, hopped on with the other two.
"So," Momoko looked anxious. "You have everything? Water? Glucose? Bananas? Chocolates?"
"Tennis racquet? Wristbands? Towels? An extra skirt in case you lose yours before getting on the court?" Airi cut in, rolling her eyes. "Give it a rest, Mama-san."
Momoko shot her a dirty look. "You have your painkillers and spray, right?" She asked Sakura anxiously.
Sakura chuckled, slinging an arm around her. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes to both." She chanted. "And no, Airi, I forgot everything you said. Dear Lord. What will I ever do?"
Even Momoko snorted.
As they disembarked, though, a rolling sensation began low in her stomach. It got worse with every step they took to the stadium, like a ship caught in a squall.
They ran into the Fuji brothers and Eiji while entering the complex. "Senpai!" Sakura grinned. "Hello Kikumaru-senpai, Yuuta-san."
Fuji looked keenly into her face. "Good morning, Sakura-chan." Even Kikumaru-senpai seemed a little more focused than usual, though he definitely had enough beans to almost talk their ears off. Airi suddenly found her shoes very, very interesting. Sakura bit her lip.
"This is my brother, Yuuta." Fuji introduced him to Sakura's friends. Momoko nodded politely, and if Airi couldn't quite speak yet, she could nod. "Sakura-chan, Eiji, we should get to the dressing rooms."
Sakura nodded. She turned to her friends, chest suddenly tight with nerves. "When Ma comes," Her voice was strangely croaky, and she cleared her throat. "When Ma comes," She tried again.
"We'll look after her." Momoko rubbed her back soothingly. "I'm even carrying extra water and food, not that we'll need it, with Arashi-san."
Airi snorted. "Of course you are." She sighed. "Hang on, I need to make a call." She tapped her phone a few times, and then shoved it before Sakura's startled face.
Kagome beamed at her. "Hello, you!"
Sakura gaped. "Kagome!" She grabbed the phone from Airi. "Kagome, how are you!?"
"So much better." And she looked it, even in the slightly-pixellated video. "Screw that– how are you? Nervous?"
"I wasn't until two minutes ago. I think the girls are my security blanket." Sakura winked at them. They snickered.
"You'd be silly not to be nervous," Kagome told her, nodding. "But you'd be silly to be scared, too. You're too smart to be scared, Sakura. And way too good. Airi sent me the video of your Kantou final match."
Sakura sighed, rubbing her nose. "I wish you were here, Kagome." Her words came out a little cracked, and Kagome's pixel-eyes softened. "I… I miss you."
Kagome sighed too. "Oh, Sakura," A skin-coloured blur passed over the screen; she'd run fingers over her camera, as though over her friend's cheek. "I wish I were there too. You have no idea. I'm sorry I'm not."
"Don't apologise." Sakura replied fiercely. "Don't ever apologise for getting better."
They talked a bit more– Sakura gestured to Fuji and Eiji to go on without her– and Kagome gave her some details about the recovery process, but was vague about the timeline. "It's a bit hard to say," She shrugged. "But I hope to be back for the final exams. I'm keeping up with the work here well enough that I should be able to take them."
"Good, that's… good." Sakura inhaled deeply. "I– I have to go. Kagome…"
"Okay, yeah, of course," Kagome nodded, a spark entering her eye. "Kick ass, Sakura. Love you loads, okay?"
"Love you too." The words came out a murmur, as Sakura attempted a smile, blew her friend a kiss, and gave the phone back to Airi.
"I'll call you later," Airi told Kagome, cutting the call and turning back to Sakura. Momoko had her hands on her shoulders, and was saying something too low for Airi to hear. But Sakura looked less peaky, less like she was steeling herself to walk barefoot over razors. Airi clearer her throat. "You'll be fine."
She said it like it was a fact of life. The sky is blue. The Earth is round. You, Sakura, will be fine.
You will be amazing.
There were no embraces, not now. Sakura merely smiled, shouldered her bag firmly, and grinned: a sharp thing, only a little shaky. "See you on the other side."
The women's dressing room was easily found, and Mikabi, Nomura and Shijimi were already there. "Hey." Sakura hugged Mikabi quickly. "Nomura-buchou, Shijimi-san."
Her captain smiled. "You feeling good?"
Her bag hit the bench with a thump. "I feel like I've eaten a nest of snakes," She admitted, rolling her shoulders. Shijimi snorted. "But I'm fit."
Nomura chuckled. "The feeling's mutual, believe me. Best change into your uniform. We're just waiting for the rest of the team, and then we'll convene with the others in the main team room."
Shijimi raised an eyebrow. "That'll be a tight fit."
Sakura eyed her thoughtfully; Hyotei's captain wasn't quite as high-profile as her Seigaku and Rikkai counterparts, but Shijimi Shouko had one hell of a reputation on the circuit all the same. Brilliant, ruthless, and cunning were just some of the words Imako had used to describe her. Nomura herself had a high degree of respect for her, not least because she had turned herself from the best doubles player on the elementary school circuit to the third-most feared singles player in Japanese junior girls' tennis. Sakura had only seen her play a few times, and their own match with Hyotei this year hadn't gone to Singles 1, but from the little she had seen, Shijimi had a preternatural ability to get into her opponents' heads and turn their own game plans against them. She wasn't as flashy as Atobe (though really, who was?), but she was an inexorable force on her own, capable of dominating a match from beginning to end.
And after too– you never forgot Shijimi Shouko.
The rest of the girls arrived soon after, trickling in in twos and threes. Even Mei, whose match was only tomorrow, dropped in for a few minutes, and after a quick word with her captain, made a beeline for Sakura and Mikabi. She hugged Sakura with a grin and a wish for luck, and then turned to Mikabi. Sakura looked away tactfully, pretending not to see Mikabi's fingers trail across the back of Mei's hand.
"Right," Nomura had been deep in conversation with Ikeda since the latter had entered the dressing room. "Everyone ready? Let's go– Tachibana, your lace– Kagawa, get off the phone– okay, let's go."
"Yes, captain." Ikeda murmured. Nomura shot her a look, but it was more playful than anything else.
The team room was a fairly plain space, lined with seating on three sides, and a whiteboard, TV setup, about five chairs, and a water cooler. The boys trooped in soon after, and Shijimi was right: it was a bit of a tight fit.
"Are you ready?" Fuji asked her, sliding in beside her. She offered him a stronger smile than before. "I am."
Sanada entered last, behind Yukimura. His eyes found hers like they'd been looking.
Sakura would have smiled, but then Tezuka-senpai and Tachibana-san entered, with Anne Hardinge behind him. The manager looked relaxed, sharp.
"Good morning, team." Her Japanese carried a heavy accent, but it wasn't incomprehensible. "Before we go out there, I want to say that you are all a credit to yourselves and the sporting community of Japan. Indeed, I hope to see many of you on the professional circuit soon, and I have every expectation that you will…" She paused for a second, squinting. "Shake things up." She finished in English, with a smile and shrug.
Sakura was surprised into a giggle, and she wasn't alone. Ikeda, Nomura, Fuji, Echizen, Atobe, and several others looked amused, and to varying degrees, appreciative (Atobe and Echizen just looked smug). People who weren't too fluent in English looked a little bemused.
"And now, please welcome the representatives from Japan!" The announcer's voice was at once both faint, and as loud as a bomb.
Well. Sakura's eyes found Sanada's, while her hand found Mikabi's. Time to shake things up, then.
Can I write characters who can't dance? Yes. Can I write a fic without a dance?
... No and I'm damn proud of it.
So the camp is done, and I hope you guys liked the slight differences in the boys' lineup as well. Since Ryoma's played the US Open according to canon, I find it hard to believe he wouldn't be an automatic choice for the lineup now that he's older and less stupid.
I hope all of you are taking care of yourselves and your loved ones in this difficult time. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay happy. Love you all loads!
Cheers,
Chilli.