Edit (19/11/2005): Thank you myrrdinowl for pointing out the repetition error! (And thank you to Fanfiction-dot-net for screwing up the formatting.)

Chapter 11

On the surface, Ryoma appeared to be the same when they gathered again for practice the next day but Atobe could see that the younger boy was clearly still disgruntled and upset with the defeat he suffered before the whole tennis club. Ryoma had an ego that was pretty impressive, even by Atobe's standards. To have cultivated that kind of self-confidence, Atobe was sure that Ryoma must have been used to winning, not losing.

"So," Fuji's soft voice was filled with overtones of amusement and curiosity. "What did the two of you talk about yesterday?"

Atobe was sure that Fuji had waited the whole day just to ask him that question in the locker room before they join the others for practice. It was probably a matter of habit for the prodigy to do something of that sort since no question from Fuji ever came without some thought behind it.

"We talked about Echizen. Then about what we're going to do with that brat. About how much we hate each other, how he absolutely refuses to give me respect, and how he's not a better tennis player than I am."

Fuji's smile actually widened. "That's quite a lot to talk about."

"Unfortunately." Atobe gave his best friend an almost wry look in return. "He wasn't a particularly bright conversationalist."

"Sometimes it's what isn't said that is important," Fuji pointed out. His eyes wandered over to where Tezuka was standing by Oishi watching the practice as per usual. Occasionally his eyes drifted over to Echizen thoughtfully, and he seemed to be considering something.

"True, but trying to get a complete sentence out of the ice cube is like trying to get blood from stone," Atobe said, yawning delicately. "Did you enjoy the match yesterday?"

"Which one?"

Atobe turned a suspicious eye towards Fuji. He wouldn t put it past him to have been eavesdropping, but knew his friend probably had too much respect for him to be that rude. Outright spying was too cliché. "Fuji."

"You played well, but you held back some. I thought you weren't going to."

Now Atobe was the one who found his eyes wandering to the first year who was ignoring everything around him. Ryoma's movements were sharper today, but something about his pace was off. He seemed a bit rattled. Atobe was surprised he had come to practice at all.

"He's not ready to see my full glory," Atobe said haughtily.

"I would have liked to watch," Fuji replied a little wistfully. He'd only seen Atobe really play against Tezuka, and they were never allowed to unleash themselves due to the restrictions Ryuuzaki had imposed during their first year. It made sense to keep them from tearing each other apart, but sometimes Fuji wondered if it was keeping them from reaching their true potential.

"You'll see it one day," Atobe promised.

"I'm keeping you to that."

Practiced dragged that day, with Atobe feeling sluggish. He didn't really want to run through the basic drills — yesterday's match had made him want to tear someone apart, and after humiliating Ryoma, he was in the mood for a long, hard game to display his skills.

If he knew what Inui had planned, he might have changed his mind about being bored. After watching the spat in the locker room with horrified amazement (Inui honestly hadn't expected Atobe and Tezuka to come to blows until they reached Kantou), he had analyzed the probable outcome of what had been said after they had withdrawn.

The results had actually worried him. The unspoken truce which kept the team from breaking apart was about to be fractured into a million pieces. He had spent the evening devising a new menu designed to keep Atobe and Tezuka from killing each other. Inui, as the only neutral member, had taken it upon himself to do what he could to keep things from coming to blows — give the team a common enemy.

The basic theory behind it was beautiful in its simplicity. If he could wear the entire team out, they wouldn't have any energy to tear each other new orifices to breathe out of. Besides, it would be fun watching the regulars run in terror, and he did have some recipes for juices he'd been meaning to try.

However, there was one problem. Ryuuzaki told him to wait for a week. Something else was going to happen... something big. As Inui glanced around the court, he noticed Tezuka's eyes settling on Ryoma, and had a pretty good guess what it was. Inui honestly pitied Ryoma, for being caught in the cross-fire of the war. When he saw Tezuka walking up to Ryoma after practice, he almost flinched.

One week. If Ryoma could survive the next week, Inui would implement "Operation Inui Juice."

Strange how a glass of green liquid might be the key to team unity — but people tended to bond under adversary. That way, maybe they would finally achieve the long hoped for peace everyone was looking forward to.

When it became apparent that Ryoma did survive Tezuka, and was looking better at the end of it, Inui thought that it should be around time he unleashed the 'common enemy'. Maybe 'looking better' weren't exactly the correct words to describe Ryoma, and he was as annoyed, if not more so, as he was over the match with Atobe. Inui didn't officially know the results of Tezuka's match with Ryoma, but it didn't take a genius to make an educated guess.

Needless to say, Ryoma was now destined for a long and hard struggle on the courts and off. He knew about the younger boy's ambitious nature. In fact, he had marked that characteristic out with a highlighter and indicated 'IMPORTANT' next to it. It ran him parallel to Atobe in some ways and to Tezuka in others. Ryoma might not be a precise mixture of the two best members on their team, but he was doing pretty well at displaying everything the two were known for.

He was arrogant, but he wasn't behaving like a diva yet. He stuck by the rules, but there were also the occasional rule-breaking moments. Inui thought he knew where Ryoma would head in a few years' time, but maybe, it was still too early to say anything about his progress. First, he had to get over Atobe and Tezuka.

And then he would improve.

"We'll be doing stamina training today which, in other words, means laps." Inui's announcement made several of the first and second year non-regulars groan, with a rather pithy addition from Momoshirou. "Thirty laps, but before you start, let me tell you the rules."

"Rules?" Momoshirou's bewildered look raised a grin from Inui.

"All those who failed to complete their laps will have to drink this, the Penal Tea. It's perfectly good for your body and it has various essential vitamins that'll help you with your training."

After the last incident with the 'perfectly healthy and natural vegetable juice' from Inui, everyone looked suspiciously at the Penal Tea, which had a dubious color at best. It was viscous. It... it looked sick. Some of the club members cringed, while a few others gave him wary looks.

Inui knew that reaction. He had seen it before, and he was a little guilty to admit that seeing the fear made him feel omnipotent. Now everyone had more reasons to fear the data tennis player. The Penal Tea wasn't the original version he planned to release, as he had indicated on the training menu he gave Ryuuzaki. In order to achieve greater team cooperation, he had sacrificed the untested version and launched this new one instead. He was pretty sure that this one would raise more self-defensive instincts than the last one did.

Inui started everyone on the laps, and watched them carefully, noting how the year ones finally collapsed by their eighteenth lap. He handed them the drinks, and watched with a kind of near maniacal amusement as the three first year students dropped onto the ground after screaming, twitching uncontrollably from the effects of the drink.

That alerted lots of looks from those who were still running, and the second year students appeared desperate to continue running. By the twenty-fifth round, they too collapsed and were given the treatment of Inui's Penal Tea, leaving only the regulars and Kawamura running.

"From now on, you have to get it in under a minute!" Inui announced.

"WHAT!" some of the louder members of the team squawked in protest.

"Keep running!" Tezuka ordered grimly, even though he cast a glance over at the team's manager with a bit of suspicion in his eyes. Atobe, not far behind, remember the spicy, sour concoction he had tasted that once, and slyly began to pick up his pace.

The distance around the court was 240 meters. Five times meant they would be doing more than a kilometer. Inui knew that after running the equivalent of over 5 kilometers, even the regulars would probably be ready to drop. Adding the time factor might just be enough to do them in, especially the few who needed to work on their stamina. In his hand the large pitcher of Penal Tea shone ominously in the afternoon light, a silent threat to those who weren't fit enough to manage the chore.

"I'm not drinking that!" Kikumaru yelled, peddling his tired feet rapidly, absolutely terrified. He knew he was in the most trouble.

Momoshiro and Kaidou, in rare agreement, began to run more quickly, matching each other step for step as they tried to keep from falling victim to the sadistic Inui's machinations.

"Momo! If you run too quickly, you'll tire yourself out," Atobe warned, taping his kohai on the shoulder as he passed him by, his breathing deep and even. "Pace yourself."

"Yes, senpai," Momoshiro said.

Atobe slanted Tezuka a sly look as he caught up. "Were you the one who approved this?"

Tezuka just stared at him before turning his head forward again.

"Thought so. So you're still declining to learn how to get along with people? You know, I thought on it, and I decided that it would take someone as talented as I am to actually teach someone as socially stunted as you seem to be how to interact with the rest of the human race," Atobe continued, unable to resist needling his rival.

"Atobe!" Oishi said, coming up beside him. He was having a harder time, but the harried look on his face made it quite clear he wasn't about to tolerate Atobe's attitude.

"Joking, joking. Calm down, Oishi, and breathe," Atobe said, falling back a bit more deeply into the pack to run next to Fuji. Fuji held out his hand, and Atobe took it, lacing their fingers together. The fangirls, who never missed a single practice, screamed in pleasure.

"You don't think..." Arai said, watching from the sidelines with a slightly dropped jaw.

Inui somehow managed to get out a data book without spilling the tankard he was holding, and started scribbling. "There is a 50 percent chance that they are trying to mess with our heads and delighting in the confusion and chaos it is causing."

Arai relaxed, but then realized exactly how low a percent that was. "What's the other 50 percent, Inui-senpai?

"That they are serious and don't give a damn who knows."

Arai swallowed.

Meanwhile Ryoma caught sight of a racket just ahead. A wicked grin lit his face as his eyes settled on the only person still in the hunt who wasn't wearing a regular's jersey – Kawamura Takashi. The shyer boy was trailing slightly towards the back, but...

"Kawamura-senpai," Ryoma slowed down until he was running side by side with the very much taller boy, then caught hold of the racket and handed it over.

"Eh-BURRRRNING! COME ON COME ON COME ON BABY!"

Everyone gave the shouting boy horrified looks as he thundered past them holding the racket shouting at the top of his voice. Ryoma followed close behind, shooting Tezuka and Atobe a gleeful look while he ran past them and caught up with Kawamura.

"That brat." Atobe muttered, tightening the hold he had on Fuji's hand.

The other only gave him a reassuring squeeze in return. "Maa, let's push the pace a little, then?"

Atobe didn't answer, but tightened his grip on Fuji's hand. The latter took it as an indication to pick up his pace and did so, the both of them beating out rhythmic steps on the concrete as they ran past Tezuka and Oishi. Kikumaru gave a small squeak of rage before doing the same, and soon, everyone was running at their pace.

Momoshirou caught up with Fuji and Atobe, panting slightly. "Fuji-senpai, I thought you like Inui-senpai's juices."

Fuji grinned in return. "Ahh, yes. They're quite tasty."

The second year student gave him a bewildered look. "Why are you trying so hard, then?"

"Because it's fun." Atobe replied for Fuji, smirking. "And because we feel like it."

The prodigy only smiled in agreement before raising their interlinked hands and showing them to Momoshirou.

"You're," the younger boy gulped, "You're not serious, are you?"

"What do you think?"

"Fuji-senpai!"

Atobe grinned. "Stop teasing the poor boy, Syuusuke."

"If you say so, Keigo-chan."

Ryoma eyed the two boys a little warily. "Ne, Atobe-senpai."

The diva turned to regard the younger boy with one elegantly raised eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I think you have strange taste in boyfriends."

Both boys laughed at the same time, and to many, it was an eerie sound.

"Should I be insulted then?" The opened-eye look and amused grin on Fuji's face was a sight which many wouldn't want to see face on. Ryoma thought that the older boy definitely had to be teasing. Most normal couples would have thrown a fit to prove that they weren't mismatched.

"If you want to. Go ahead."

Atobe smirked at him briefly before lifting Fuji's hand to graze his lips over the top of the other's hand lightly. "Don't insult my beloved-"

"Atobe-senpai!" Momoshirou's distraught voice raised chuckles from Fuji.

"-friend. Really. You boys need to be more patient. Let me finish talking before interrupting my speeches." Just as Atobe finished saying that, Fuji released Atobe's hand to warp a secure arm around the older boy.

"Exactly." The smug smile on Fuji's face was a rare sight.

Momoshirou and Ryoma could only stare at the two of them in silence. The sound of scribbling appeared to intensify by a few times.

That was the problem with the two of them. They were the best of friends in school, and they were also the best pranksters when it came down to that. Who would dare to refute the president of the school's student council? Not that Atobe was an unkindly person when it came down to jokes, but... sometimes, it's better to not know the truth. For all they knew, the truth might scar them far more deeply than the lies did.

He had been in a thoughtful mood all day, though only Atobe had noticed. Skilled as he was at deception, Atobe's keen eyes were able to pierce through it, and it seemed to put the diva in a quieter mood as well, though few could tell. Both of them were lethargic, a bit slower to rise to the bait Tezuka's crew dangled so temptingly in front of them, a bit more laid back about the insults and insinuations that were thrown their way.

It was a day he had half been dreading, but hoping for at the same time. Seigaku was finally going to go head-to-head with St. Rudolph's. Fuji Syuusuke was going to see his brother again.

No one saw the brittleness that lay behind Fuji's smile, the way his usual sharpness seemed to be muted as he drifted into his own thoughts. He didn't complain when Ryuuzaki set him aside as the alternate for the third round of games, knowing that she intended to have him play somewhere special for the fourth. The third round wasn't particularly difficult anyway – Akiyama Third Jr. High seemed to have done their research, but they simply didn't have the skills needed to keep Seigaku busy.

Though it had been thrilling to watch Ryoma play.

Echizen Ryoma seemed possessed, and Fuji had snapped out of his distraction long enough to watch him totally pulverize his opponent. It had been amusing – the other player thought they were getting a break, playing a first year "chibi" instead of Seigaku's famed prodigy, but had wound up facing something much more terrifying – someone who needed to prove himself.

The poor bastard hadn't stood a chance.

St. Rudolph's would be a different story. Through Fuji's mind, his brother's face flashed, an intangible image of his greatest failure.

Atobe, missing out on playing a game due to straight wins (amazing that the Momoshiro-Kaidou pair had actually managed to cooperate this time), was in a bit of a restless mood as he waited for the final match of the day. Whoever won this match would be moving onto the finals, and that would be good. It wasn't like Seigaku hadn't made it there before, but if they were going to the Nationals, they needed to take it step by step and not get ahead of themselves.

The two of them found a vacant bench near a vending machine, and Atobe wrapped his arm around Fuji's shoulders companionably. They were still playing this game – but Fuji wasn't in the mood. His body felt stiff and uncomfortable.

Atobe glanced over, and let his arm fall away. The smirk that was so much a part of his character slipped away as well. "Yuuta's here today. Have you seen him?" Atobe asked seriously. He remembered the boy, a year younger than them. It would have been impossible to forget that face after seeing Fuji's photography collection. Many of his earlier albums featured his brother prominently, but about a year ago, Yuuta seemed to fall out of them, just as he fell out of his older brother's life.

"Not yet," Fuji said.

The Fuji brothers went through a rough patch a while ago when Yuuta followed his older brother to Seigaku, chasing dreams of tennis. The reputation of Fuji weighed Yuuta down and at the same time, the younger boy was reluctant to be known as 'Fuji's younger brother' and therefore be marked off as inferior when compared to his prodigious older brother.

Atobe had always been the single child, so he was unable to understand Yuuta's plight. He had spoken to the other boy before. Yuuta was actually a very bright kid, filled with ambitions and hopes for tennis. Atobe knew that he must be inspired by his older brother, and yet... somehow, during the transition from childhood to teenage years, something had changed.

Fuji was hurt when his younger brother chose to transfer out of Seigaku. He was even more hurt when Yuuta refused to speak to him for weeks after moving to his current school hostel. Atobe was witness to all of that and he kept the knowledge inside, knowing that they weren't for him to divulge.

"We'll meet him again soon."

The distracted nod Fuji gave made him reach over to give the usual comforting squeeze on the other's shoulder. That failed to raise even a small smile from the younger boy, and he knew what he had done for the other wasn't enough. Being Fuji's best friend also meant sharing the prodigy's woes, yet Atobe found himself unable to carry the other boy's burden together with him.

"Did you notice something?"

"Hm?"

Atobe tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully, knowing that Fuji hadn't paid attention to any of the matches that day, save for Ryoma's. "All of our rival schools appeared to have done research on us."

The vaguely perplexed look Fuji gave him was an indication that he had gotten the prodigy's attention. For the moment, anyway.

"I find it strange."

"There's nothing strange about other schools scouting for information on their rival schools."

"No," Atobe shook his head. "There is something suspicious about it. I can't quite pin-point the exact source of wrongness, but..."

Fuji only shook his head with a small smile.

"Boy wonder did well today, though." Atobe smirked, then placed his hands flat on the space behind him, crossing his legs elegantly and leaning back to stare at the sky. "After disgracing himself in doubles, then put on reserves, suffering humiliation at my hands and getting thrashed by the ice cube right after that, he has become more stubborn and stronger than when we last saw him play."

"Inspired to get stronger." Fuji's smile was one which Atobe recognized.

"I believe he should thank Tezuka and I at the end of the day."

"Ahh," the prodigy of the team appeared to have restored a little of his cheer, his woes momentarily forgotten. Many would think that Atobe was the worst kind of friend to have, since he always thought about himself only but others could testify to the fact that he did care for those he cherished.

"Eh? I heard that the Fuji brothers will be facing off today!" A loud comment from someone who was passing by their seat made Atobe turn with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah. The younger brother is rumored to be a 'left-hand killer'! I wonder if they'll get to play against each other? I've always wanted to know who's better."

"Don't be stupid! Of course the older brother's better! He's the prodigy!"

The sudden tenseness in Fuji was something Atobe had been trying to cure.

"Prodigy," Fuji echoed. Many saw it as a compliment, but to him it was a two-edged sword, severing him from what he cherished most. "How many people think of me as just the prodigy?"

"Idiots. They don't even know the meaning of that word," Atobe declared.

Fuji had thought on that, many times. What did it mean, exactly, to be a prodigy? Why was he dubbed with the label so frequently when superior players like Tezuka and Atobe seemed to avoid it? What had he done to deserve it?

The end answer was painfully simple: Tezuka and Atobe, and people like them, were skilled and practiced hard to played tennis because it was something they lived and breathed to do. Fuji was naturally gifted, and saw tennis more as a pastime, something to offer amusement rather than dedication.

Prodigies could be lazy – that was what made their skills so astounding. Maybe that was why Yuuta hated him so much. Yuuta worked ten times harder than Fuji ever did, and never seemed able to catch up.

"It's not fair to Yuuta for them to say that," Fuji said softly. "How would you feel, to have to live in someone else's shadow?"

Atobe burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the idea. "I wouldn't."

Fuji couldn't help smiling. Atobe had taken his rhetorical question a bit too seriously. The very idea of Atobe living in anyone's shadow was perhaps the funniest thing he'd seen all day. If Atobe had siblings, Fuji was willing to wager that the sibling rivalry would have been the stuff of legends... but he didn't doubt Atobe would win in that case scenario.

Sibling rivalry. Sickening words.

"No, you wouldn't. And Yuuta's not me, but everyone tries to make him into me. I..." Fuji trailed off, letting Atobe think on his own. Sometimes Atobe would be able to see more clearly if Fuji's own thoughts weren't messing with his.

"Isn't it always the younger son who exceeds the older in fairy tales?" Atobe asked idly. "And after he does, he returns to cherish his older brother?"

The point was a well-made one. Fuji hated to lose, but Yuuta's hatred was ten times worse. Fuji couldn't bring himself to lower his standards – especially not for his brother – and dreamed of the day that Yuuta might be able to equal or exceed him.

But he wasn't going to stand around and wait for him.

"It sounds good," Fuji said, dreaming of a day that he would be able to speak to Yuuta without his younger brother acting like a cat that was being stroked the wrong way.

It was getting colder. Fuji pulled up the zip of his jacket, making sure it was in place. He was sensitive to temperature, more so than most, and a glance at Atobe showed that he was probably being too sensitive.

"We should consider going back," he said to Atobe. "Our next match is going to begin soon."

End: Chapter 11