-3- … Hm… Excuses later- chapter now!

Here We Go Again

Chapter Twenty-Six: Troupe of Monkeys

In the bedroom's doorway, two small, delicate looking hands clasped together. A pair of golden-brown eyes sparkled in excitement, and another set of crystalline blue orbs twinkled mischievously. From somewhere below, voices shouted back and forth, inquiring after possessions and schedules.

"Shall we go?"

"The winner will be Hyotei! The winner will be Hyotei! The loser will be Seishun! The loser will be Seishun!"

Ryoma groaned (or attempted it, anyways) and dropped his head as if he wanted to hit it against something. Hard. Unseen by his team, he muttered, "One fluke win and they won't shut up."

Fuji seemed to read his mind, nudging him on the shoulder. "As always, making them shut their mouths will surely be fun, ne? For Inui and Kaidoh?"

The freshman sat up again, nodding and fiddling with the tennis ball produced from his pocket. He tossed the bright green ball up and down, following the movement with his eyes like Karupin with her favorite toy. He thought back to Doubles Two. It may not have been a total fluke, as Inui-senpai had been forced to use the strenuous Neo-Waterfall to compete with Ootori's Scud Serves, but winning because the data-man's arm wouldn't hold up anymore was hardly something to be so excited about. He gave a long, deep sigh. "I just want to wipe that smug look off of Monkey King's face and go home already. Maybe take some hair as a souvenir."

Beside him, Fuji stayed silent out of respect for the Doubles One match being played in front of them, but Ryoma could feel slight vibrations in the bench as the brunet's shoulders moved with stifled laughter.

The next several minutes were spent watching the match quietly, with occasional remarks going back and forth among the team about its progression. There were murmurs, cheers, and laughs running rampant through the crowd, but within the court, every tennis player was busy silently analyzing the strategies and moves being used.

"See what Gakuto is trying here? He knows that he irritates Kikumaru to no end, and that he takes real pride in his speed." Ryoga seemed to pop up from nowhere as he began to lecture them. "He's doing something trickier than the normal psychological warfare that you see in tennis, and his partner – that Oshitari guy – is in on it too. They aren't taunting or anything, at least not about the speed thing, but the fact that Gakuto's going out of his way to be quicker than Kikumaru and Oshitari does the tiniest things to make Kikumaru notice means they've planned this- extensively. It's pretty smart, too, because if their up-front irritation strategy fails, they have this to fall back on and gradually create stress between Oishi and Kikumaru. I want all of you to think on how to do this, only specific to your opponent's tics and habits, how to notice it, and how to avoid it. Hyotei isn't bad at it, but there are people out there that specialize in it and they're damn annoying if you've never learned how to handle them."

A good portion of the team stared in open-mouthed shock as Ryoga explained the situation so offhandedly. They knew that their coach was perfectly competent, but he rarely gave speeches, and he barely ever went so deep into the psychology of things. Ryoma, who had known where his brother was aiming after the first sentence, simply leaned back and took a sip of Ponta.

"You think Kikumaru-senpai has noticed it yet?" he asked Fuji casually.

"I feel as if he's getting an inkling, and Oishi's almost figured it out. Either way, I don't think we have to tell them about it. If Eiji can keep calm, then they can definitely beat these two," responded the genius thoughtfully with one hand on his chin.

"Does Hyotei have Synchro?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Think it'll come down to that?"

"Probably."

Ryoma nodded, his eyes narrowed as he saw Kikumaru-senpai gritting his teeth. Keep it together, senpai…

Apparently, Oishi had also noticed his partner's first signs of frustration. The teen placed a hand on the redhead's shoulder, a warm yet stern look in his eyes. "Cool down, Eiji," he said soothingly. Then, Oishi leaned in and spoke in Kikumaru's ear too softly for anyone to hear. Ryoma guessed he had pointed out what Gakuto and Oshitari were doing, because whatever the mother hen had said caused Kikumaru to blink and straighten up. The acrobat had a new determination in his eyes and spring in his step.

"Let's do this, partner!" The redhead's cheerful yell rang across the court as the next game began, and the more observant audience members saw faint white mist swirling around the Golden Pairs' feet.

A sly grin formed on Ryoma's lips. Yep, he thought, definitely going to be a Synchro battle.

~X~

"Point, Seishun! Advantage Fuji!"

"Did! You! See that!"

With a roll of his eyes, Ryoma rested his head on his palm again, having been startled from his position by the sudden shout that was no doubt heard all over the complex. Maybe through all of Tokyo, too.

Jirou, ever the excitable two year old when playing Fuji, was bouncing all over the place at mach speed, raving about the latest counter to be unveiled. Apparently, though he had seen almost all of them from the sidelines of matches, "It just isn't the same as seeing all that awesome right in front of you!"

The ordinarily sleepy brunet leapt back into the receiver's position, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Can I see that disappearing serve again, please?"

With a dry laugh, Fuji took up his underhand serve stance. "No, I'm not really sure if you can," he joked, sending the ball flying. To the untrained eye, the ball vanished without a shimmer (fortunately for Seishun, their eyes had been forced into training a while ago by some of the more ludicrous shots they encountered). That was apparently one of the benefits he'd reaped after two years of refining his play. The ball now disappeared quicker, cleaner, and without the slightest trace. Fuji had also used this advantage to come up with different versions of it that could work on a few different types of players. He did not share how they were done, and as no one could see the ball, relying on intuition and luck to hit it, the secret to the move stayed a secret. Quite a feat in a league full of copycats.

For no apparent reason, Jirou's racquet shot out to the side. Many onlookers murmured in confusion, wondering what he was doing, but a few were able to hear a slight scraping noise and see a faint green blur.

"Saa… I didn't expect that, I must say. Very impressive," praised Fuji. A slight quirking of his lips showed just how impressive he thought it was.

The ball was rolling away from Akutagawa slowly, and it was clear from its path that the narcotic teen had managed to brush it as it passed, solely relying on his instincts.

With a sheepish laugh, Hyotei's representative scratched his head. "Ha… It wasn't much, really!"

In the middle of their banter, the official announced start of what could be the last game.

Ryoma stopped listening as Akutagawa went on a tangent about how he had to win the next game to prolong his match with Fuji. Had anyone changed in two years? He had returned expecting to have to adjust to the differences, but this was almost exactly like seventh grade.

"He certainly has a point," muttered Inui suddenly. "If Jirou-san doesn't hold his serve this game, Fuji will win."

"And Fuji-senpai's got that look in his eyes…" Momo was squinting, leaning forward to get a better look. Suddenly, he blinked and shuddered. "Ugh. He's definitely planning something. Glad I'm not Jirou-san."

That particular sentiment turned out to be one shared by many as the next few points played out. The match began swaying heavily in Fuji's favor, as he had long since adjusted to any new tricks and strategies that the sleepy Hyotei student had come up with since they'd last played.

All of the first three points were finished with one of the now infamous counters, be they the original classics or the most recent. Ryoma was convinced that Fuji was taking immense pleasure in the shocked and incredulous reactions he got out of the crowd.

But if this is what he's using as the buildup, thought the boy as Fuji finished the point with a Black Horse, I guess the grand finale will be pretty interesting then. I wonder what he's schemed up this time…

The next, and possibly final, point of the match started up.

His spirits never to be dampened, Jirou served energetically and shot up to the net. "I haven't had this much fun in ages, you know!" he yelled. "I'm never playing the monsters in Singles One," the teen laughed and bent his wrist back impossibly far, hitting a drop shot, "I really miss out, huh?"

Fuji didn't respond. All of his concentration was focused on getting to the net in time. Putting on a burst of speed, the brunet shot up to meet the ball, remembering all too well the game that he'd lost two years ago because of Jirou's little trick. Not this time. He may have improved, but so have I.

"Dragon's Breath." Beginning with a neat slicing motion, Fuji positioned his racquet beneath the ball and spun it around once, unleashing the chaotic shot onto the court. It flew around too fast for the eye to follow, leaving a flaring yellow trail behind it.

"Just… this… once!" yelled Jirou, closing his eyes. Tensing and standing perfectly still for the briefest of moments, he suddenly darted to the side with his arm outstretched.

To the shock of everyone around the court, Fuji included, there was the distinct sound of a ball making a good, solid connection with a racquet. The gentle popping sound of a drop shot settling seemed to echo long after the ball had rolled away. Fuji stared open mouthed at the tennis ball at his feet.

"He- he returned it?" Ryoma mumbled faintly. Even he and Ryoga had admitted they might have some trouble returning the Eighth Counter, but this guy had just… Ryoma could feel his opinion of Akutagawa Jirou rise a few notches.

"Saa…"

The word broke everyone's trance, and no few pairs of eyes snapped to the brunet standing in the middle of the court. Fuji bent and picked up the ball at his feet, tilting his head as he looked at it curiously. Many of his schoolmates shuddered, noticing that his eyes were open and they held that kind of gleam. The you-just-exceeded-my-expectations-so-it's-time-to-die kind of gleam.

"Well done, Akutagawa-kun," said the genius in a friendly voice. "I think you're worthy of seeing this now."

Defying what many would do when placed in the same situation, (namely shivering and getting as far away from Fuji as humanly possible) the Hyotei student in question put on a massive grin and bowed, shouting, "I look forward to it, senpai!"

Fuji laughed quietly. "I would expect no less from you." He turned took one step before pausing. "Did you notice? Today has very good conditions for tennis. No wind at all." That said, he walked to the receiver's position.

On the bench, Ryoma scrunched his eyebrows together. That sort of statement was the exact opposite of Fuji's usual remarks, and since the teen was obviously aware of that, there had to be some sort of reason to it. Something big was coming.

Akutagawa served, and as he ran to the net, his footsteps were drowned out by Fuji's voice.

"Fifth Counter: Hecatoncheires no Monban."

The brunet made quick work of adding and doubling the spin on the ball, the motion quick, practiced, and perfect.

"Sorry, but that won't work!" Akutagawa let out a short yell as he struck the ball, reversing the spin enough to get it over the net. He never saw his opponent's smirk.

With a borderline eerie smile, Fuji lowered his racquet to his side. "Thirteenth Counter: Nikkou Hanabi."

"You are kidding me!"

Momo's loud, incredulous voice served as background noise as Fuji swung his arm upward, hitting a tremendous lob. For a moment, the ball was completely hidden from view by the sun's glare. Then, it came plummeting down again. Several onlookers were seeing stars as the shot came crashing back down with an audible whoosh, making a resounding bang as it bounced and shot back into the sky. When its momentum was expended, the ball looped downward slowly into Fuji's waiting hand, looking for all the world like a firecracker that was fizzling out.

Akutagawa was speechless, his mouth dangling wide open in a disbelieving grin. When he regained his senses, the teen bounded up to the net and began talking a mile a minute. "Ne, ne, show that to me again! Oi, Atobe, did you see that? That was amazing!"

Again, Fuji laughed softly. "I'm sorry, Akutagawa-kun, but with this the match is over." He reached out one hand to shake, and the sandy haired teen took it enthusiastically. "Thank you for the fun match."

"I should be thanking you!" beamed Akutagawa. "That was the best match I've had in a while! Too bad I lost, though… but whatever! To think something like that was possible!"

Many in the audience laughed as he continued on a scatterbrained rant while walking off of the court.

Fuji left calmly, a satisfied look on his face. Many of his teammates would have called it smug. He accepted a congratulatory slap on the back from Ryoga with a nod and slight laugh, then walked over to sit between Ryoma and Kikumaru.

"How long's that one been in the works?" asked the younger player casually while he stood up to stretch and find his racquet.

"Too long," replied the brunet cryptically. When it came to the development of new counters, he kept a strict "for me to know and you to agonize over yet never find out" policy- no exceptions.

With only a raised eyebrow, Ryoma moved on. "So a Hoshi Hanabi that doesn't need wind. That makes how many?"

Fuji hummed, pausing momentarily to think. "If we don't consider Houou Gaeshi, Kirin Otoshi, and Hakuryu to be their own counters, which most don't, it would be thirteen. I should make a new one so the number isn't unlucky, then," he commented with a laugh.

Shooting him an odd look, the dark-haired freshman snorted. "Have fun with that." He looked over his shoulder to see the courts ready for Singles Two. "I'm up," he announced, spinning on his heel and snatching up his water bottle in one motion.

Ryoma walked forward, staring his opponent in the eye. He still found it a tad hard to believe…

Flashback

"Tezuka! Your brat wasn't standing in the spot for Singles One at the lineup! I made it perfectly clear that I wished to gift him with a match, nah, Kabaji?"

"Usu."

Ryoma stared incredulously at the gray-haired teenager that had come over to their side of the courts during Doubles Two and started to throw what could only be called a temper tantrum. Atobe was pointing imperiously at Seishun's captain and glaring in a way that demanded answers.

"I will be playing in Singles One today, Atobe. Echizen is in Singles Two against Kabaji-san." Tezuka would not be cowed so easily, and he replied with complete calm, barely looking away from the match.

"I have played you and only you since middle school, Tezuka! No matter how entertaining you may be, I need to put the brat in his place after Nationals."

This time, the brunet turned his head to look coolly at Hyotei's captain. "Our match order is set and decided. It cannot be changed."

Atobe smirked and fanned one hand over his face dramatically. "That is where you'll see that we at Hyotei can be far more adaptable than you, Tezuka." He turned his intense gaze to Ryoma with a predatory grin. "I'll do you a favor and cut your hair to a man's length. The winner will definitely be Hyotei."

The boy narrowed his eyes coldly. While he actually wasn't very opposed to his hair being cut, the insults to his masculinity and chances of victory would not be easily forgiven.

Flashback End

"Feel honored that I deigned to lower myself from my rightful place in Singles One to face you, brat."

So Monkey King had actually managed to change the Hyotei lineup at the last minute. Ryoma had no clue how it had been done, but that particular issue didn't trouble him at the moment. What mattered that he was in for a challenging, fun, and probably ridiculously extended match. He saw it as a chance to truly test how far he and his rivals had come in the past few years. Before now, none of his matches in the tournament had been very challenging, and any potentially difficult matches had been cut short. Throughout the US Open, he was not so much worried about his skills being inadequate as not being able to use said skills.

Today would be different, for sure. His wounds had healed and he was at the top of his game again. The look in Atobe's eyes said that the older teen was chomping at the bit; he wanted to get the match going.

Yes, things would be different today. The tournament was really starting today, for Ryoma at least, and nothing could have pleased him more.

With his trademark cocky smile, the boy stepped forward and slammed his racquet down on the ground, handle up.

"Which?"

I'm sorry, but I just decided to screw updating until exams and everything were over, and it threw me out of whack. I hope those of you who shared my pain recently can understand XD So… Don't kill me? Self and I were having a fail-fest over how much we (okay, it was all me; he did his job) slipped-slash-screwed up.

I believe "nikkou" means sunbeam, but I don't really trust internet translators. If anyone knows whether that was correct/incorrect, do tell. Oh yeah, and hanabi=fireworks.

Was Atobe good? I tried to make him a mix of pompous hot-air-blowing diva and better-than-thou awesomeness.

The poll (Do I cut Ryoma's hair or not?) is leaning towards leaving it long, but I'm going to keep it up for another chapter or two so… yeah. Figure it out.