Chapter 12

"I want to play doubles," Atobe began, staring not at Ryuuzaki but at Tezuka, "-with him."

"Atobe!" Oishi's distraught voice was already a familiar sound to the diva.

Their coach raised her eyebrows at the most prominent member of her team, glancing at Tezuka's expressionless face. "You want to play doubles? Even after losing so badly the last time? Are you sure that Tezuka-"

"Sensei-" Oishi started to interject, but was interrupted by Tezuka.

"I would like to play doubles with Atobe." Tezuka's quiet declaration sounded deafening

All the regulars surrounding their coach were silent, staring at the two top players of their team as if they were mad. Did they forget how badly they lost the last time? They practically made a joke out of themselves! Most normal people would have understood the implications behind the loss and stepped down gracefully to avoid embarrassing themselves further. It appeared that the two boys actually didn't know when to quit.

Seeing that this was a rare sign of cooperation, not to mention coordination, from Tezuka and Atobe, and hoping that there was still some space for the two of them to develop a somewhat fragile friendship along the way, Ryuuzaki agreed.

"Okay. You two can play Doubles 2 then."

Tezuka didn't share the triumphant look Atobe gave.

"Okay boys, listen up! Doubles 2, Tezuka and Atobe! Show us you have learned how to cooperate! Doubles 1, Golden Pair! Show them what national level doubles playing is like! Singles 3, Kaidou! Give them no mercy! Singles 2, Echizen! Don't let them underestimate a first year student! And Singles 1, Fuji! If you do get to play, do it seriously!"

Atobe turned to nudge Tezuka on his arm lightly, smiling indulgently. "Well. I see that you're finally ready to start learning the correct way of conducting human communication, Tezuka."

The icy look the younger boy gave him was a habitual one. Atobe shrugged it off easily and started walking towards his bag to retrieve his racket. He noticed that Fuji was once again distracted and distant, his concentration trapped on his younger brother, who was talking to someone who looked like their manager. If there was one thing that Atobe noticed right away, it was the notebook the manager was carrying.

Data tennis. Which brought some things back to Atobe's mind. He would speak to Inui later, since his match was about to start. The diva kept a careful eye on the manager as he drifted between the teammates, speaking to the first doubles pair in lowered voices and keeping a rather vile looking grin on his face.

"Syuusuke." Atobe turned to regard his best friend, who was quiet and unsmiling.

"I'm fine."

"Atobe-senpai! Are you really serious about playing doubles with Buchou?" Momoshirou's anxious look made Atobe laugh.

The second year student was placed in the reserve, and although he minded not having the chance to play for this match, he appeared to be more concerned about something else.

"Yes. He should be thankful that I'm willing to help him become less socially stunted."

They were far enough from Tezuka and his crowd that they actually failed to raise replies for his comment.

"Atobe-senpai..." Momoshirou said tentatively, "shouldn't you have played in singles?"

He shook his head, amused by Momoshirou's concern. "There is nothing involving tennis that I can't do."

"Maybe a different partner would have been better?" Momoshirou glanced over at Fuji a little nervously, not wanting to insinuate that the relationship was true, but not knowing if it wasn't. "I mean you and Fuji-senpai get along better..."

Atobe sniffed. "It'd be boring if I played with him. Besides, Fuji has something else to take care of."

Fuji gave him a sharp look, a bit annoyed that Atobe was letting the entire team in on his problem, but Inui was already filling them in.

"Fuji Yuuta, second year. Called the Left Handed Killer," said Inui. "St. Rudolph's ace – he's going to be in singles two. He claims his greatest goal is to beat his older brother."

Fuji glanced down at his hands, staring at the right hand that bore so many calluses from the tennis racquet. "I'm not left handed," he said, giving everyone a mellow smile as he held up his hand.

"Echizen is," Atobe said. He glanced over at where the first year was leaning up against a tree, completely unconcerned now that he had secured a singles slot.

Not good.

"Maybe Ryuuzaki should see about switching Fuji and Echizen?" Momoshirou suggested hesitantly.

"Too late. The match line up has been handed in," Atobe said, waving it off. He knew Ryuuzaki had done some quick scrambling to amend her original plans of going with her usual singles star line up, and the referees weren't going to let her mess with them again.

Fuji relaxed a bit, though only Atobe noticed that he had ever been tensed to begin with. He really didn't want to play against his brother because he would have no choice but to defeat him.

"I need to warm up," Atobe said. He opened his mouth to invite Fuji along, but sighed as he realized what he should be doing. "Tezuka, we need to warm up!" he called over his shoulder, starting for a clear space and not looking over his shoulder to see if Tezuka was following.

Tezuka had been speaking softly to Oishi, trying to reassure him that going into doubles wasn't a mistake. His friend wasn't hearing any of it, trying to point out that doubles and singles were really separate games. Tezuka had listened to all of Oishi's protests, and ignored them. There was no way he was backing down from the challenge.

"Oishi, please make sure everyone makes it to the court on time," he said finally, turning to walk after Atobe.

"Are you just doing what he tells you to?" Kikumaru protested, forgetting for once that he was talking to Tezuka.

The look Tezuka gave him in reply froze anything else Kikumaru might have said in his throat. "I need to warm up, and Atobe is my partner," he said, unaware of how wrong those words sounded to everyone who heard them.

Watching him walk away, Kikumaru finally found his voice. "Did... did they work on their doubles game at all?" he asked uneasily.

"I think they intend to do it now," Oishi said, unable to suppress a sense of dread.

Kikumaru groaned. "I'm not going to be the one to tell them it takes more than thirty minutes to learn doubles!"

"We're going to win this time." Atobe's arrogant posture was rather telling of how well the both of them would fare. Tezuka only gave him a customary glance before he started stretching.

"It looks like I have to train you on something else at the same time now. First of all, Tezuka," Atobe continued, moving to do the same with a slightly irritated look. "When someone speaks to you, please reply. It is only polite to do so."

There was no reply from the other boy.

"Second of all," the diva now took on a long-suffering look. "You shouldn't stare so much. It's offensive, and you might be able to intimidate people with just a look alone, but that simply isn't the way to building friendship. Or companionship. Or anything else, really. I don't know how Oishi actually puts up with you because you can be so difficult-"

"Shut up and warm up, Atobe."

There was a pause while the older boy eyed the captain with a raised eyebrow. That was precisely the problem he was talking about. Tezuka had problems communicating properly with people. He had problems expressing himself without looking like either a bloody jerk or a stuck up pig. Either that, or he had issues with displaying emotions, and he had even bigger issues with attempting to behave like any other normal human. So many problems, and he was still unbothered by everything.

"I am warming up. Just not to you, though." The nonchalant answer made Tezuka frown.

The captain spoke moments later, his gaze failing to meet Atobe's. "We're playing doubles today. There is a need for cooperation-"

"And trust. Lots of trust. Did you notice that what holds the Golden Pair together is not just superb skill and coordination, but also a lot of trust?" The look on Tezuka's face told Atobe the other had been paying attention after all. "So, first of all, we need to learn to trust each other. If you can't trust me, then this probably wouldn't work out. We're going to make fools out of ourselves on the courts again and I will not allow that."

This time Atobe reached over to place a hand on Tezuka's shoulder, looking totally serious.

"Tezuka, if you don't learn how to trust me, we'll get nowhere."

The captain only gave him a long, hard look, lips pursed tight. "Do you trust me, then?"

"Yes, of course. I trust you to play doubles with me. Now, trusting you to cover my back and not crash into me while running for the same serve on the court is something else entirely. I'll admit that doubles is a totally different league from singles. The both of us are so used to being on our own in the courts that we forget the occasions where we have to share it with others. In terms of skills, we have plenty of them. We're top class players in our school team, and everyone knows that. But we lack the coordination and trust. We need to work on that."

Tezuka gave his watch a quick glance, and his reply could be considered to be a wry one. "We have about twenty more minutes to work on that, then."

Atobe sighed, near exasperated. "I know it won't happen in an instant. So we can start now, and continue building our trust while playing, hm? Sounds good?"

The look in Tezuka's eyes was enough for Atobe. He smiled, thinking they were finally getting somewhere.

Kisarazu and Yanigizawa had been specially trained by one of the best player managers in the nation to face whatever threats other teams had to offer. Mizuki, though, looked slightly nonplused to see the Atobe-Tezuka pair take the court.

"Interesting," he said. "I had wondered who was going to end up in the Doubles 2 slot for Seigaku, since they don't have any good doubles players aside from Oishi and Kikumaru..." Mizuki murmured. "I didn't realize that Seigaku would try that again," he continued, more to himself than to the doubles team that was watching him nervously.

Usually Kisarazu and Yanigizawa played Doubles 1, but for some reason Mizuki had moved them to the second slot, putting an inexperienced team in its place. They had learnt to trust his predictions, but it was unsettling that he hadn't been expecting this development.

"6-3," he said, staring hard at the Seigaku players for a long moment, noticing how Tezuka stood aloof, as though nothing could touch him, and Atobe turned to the crowd to encourage it. "You'll tear them apart," he advised, before shooing them onto the court.

Both of them radiated strength, but Kisarazu recognized what was wrong at once, and moved over to explain to Yanagizawa. "They've been sharing attention too long," he said. "And they fight for it – Tezuka quietly, and Atobe fiercely."

"What?" Yanagizawa asked, curious.

Kisarazu didn't want to speak of it, but the truth compelled him. "It's like being a twin. You're like someone, so they compare you. And you have to fight to get noticed for your own merits."

Yanagizawa knew that Kisarazu's brother Ryou was a sore point with him. But it was true – Tezuka and Atobe were rarely mentioned without the other being brought up. That probably infuriated the proud Atobe, and irritated the quieter Tezuka. Glancing over at St. Rudolph's bench, he thought that the two had a lot in common with another member of their team.

"One set match! Seigaku's Tezuka to serve!"

Fuji seemed thoughtful as he watched the match begin. Tezuka was serving well and had two aces before Kisarazu managed to return the ball to begin the volley.

"Oishi?" he said, his soft voice carrying across the distance between them.

Oishi jumped slightly, surprised to be addressed by Atobe's best friend. "Y-yes?"

"They're going to lose, aren't they?"

Oishi opened his mouth to deny it, but no words would come out. He didn't want to admit it but Atobe and Tezuka, who at least weren't fighting each other this time, still hadn't managed to actually start working together. "Let's see what happens," he said diplomatically.

Fuji sighed deeply, tucking his hands into his pockets. "That's what I thought."

The game unfolded, with each team keeping its first three games. Atobe, unused to actually dropping games, was getting frustrated, and when Mizuki called his players over, he wore a wide smile on his face.

"You should break them in this game... and they'll start fighting. Use it."

Kisarazu and Yanagizawa weren't inclined to argue – when Mizuki started to twist his hair around his fingers, it meant he was feeling particularly confident.

They broke Atobe's serve, firing the ball along the edges to keep them apart before firing the ball down the center. The strategy worked three times as the two, cautious about colliding, pulled up short.

"I thought you had it."

"I thought you had it." Atobe was almost ready to start twitching. "That's why I stopped."

"No." Tezuka frowned, staring at the ball that got past them. "We have to come up with a better way to stop that."

Atobe gave the doubles staring at them a thoughtful look, then frowned. "Like? You have any ideas? Obviously, we're not going to draw a line down the middle like what Momo and Echizen did. It'll be ridiculous. Not to mention that everyone would be laughing at us for trying that."

"Unprofessional." Tezuka affirmed, glancing at Oishi, who was giving him a worried look.

"And stupid. We're not children."

They would have discussed further, but Kisarazu was already getting ready to serve again. A sudden bout of inspiration struck Atobe, and he called over his shoulder.

"I'll take the upper half of the court, you the lower! If it looks like I can't get the ball - not that it'll ever happen but we never know - you can get the ball. Trust me, remember?"

Tezuka would have replied had Kisarazu not served then, aiming for the outer court. The captain got the ball and returned it, as the both of them waited for the inevitable volley down the middle. The two boys eyed each other almost warily, and when it did happen, their attention was turned towards the ball at the same time, both boys judging rapidly where the ball would land.

"I'll-" Atobe began, but Tezuka was already moving towards the ball.

Once again, both boys came to a stop as the ball rolled down the court between them. There was a pause as Atobe stared at Tezuka, and the captain did the same in return. Yanagisawa started laughing away on the opposite court, his loud laughter grating on the ears.

"It's like watching a chicken and duck attempting to dance together da ne!"

"I don't understand," Momoshirou began from where he was standing behind the Golden Pair. "Why didn't they just...?"

Everyone knew what he was referring to. The old one line down the middle of the court tactic. This worked for him and Ryoma, and might work for Tezuka and Atobe too.

"They're trying to play doubles, stupid!" With that, Kikumaru smacked Momoshirou on the back of his head.

"Ow! Eiji-senpai!"

"But it's not enough." Fuji's calm reply and amused grin made the hyperactive player scowl.

"Okay, tell you what." Atobe began, eyeing the tennis ball as if it had fangs. "We'll do it the Golden Pair way. Read my body movements, Tezuka. You know how to do that, right?"

The younger boy only gave Atobe a look.

"So, like I said, trust me. And read my body movements. I'll always be in the upper court, Tezuka. Remember that."

The next time Kisarazu served, Atobe returned, and when the ball came whizzing down the centerline again, Tezuka had his eyes on the tennis ball first, judging where it would hand. His eyes then quickly moved to where Atobe stood, and the older boy looked as if he was going for the ball. Tezuka quickly changed his footsteps and stopped just a little further away from Atobe, but not far enough to be unable to return the volley.

Atobe returned the shot, and both boys turned in a spilt instance to give each other a look that said precisely how they felt.

"They got it!" Momoshirou crowed, thumping Ryoma on his back. The younger boy only scowled.

"At least they didn't trip over each other." Kikumaru's half-relieved and somewhat droll answer made Oishi shush him up almost immediately.

Fuji glanced at Inui, who was scribbling frantically in his book. "About what we thought, no?"

"Indeed," Inui admitted. "Though they're evolving, the evolution is too slow to keep pace with St. Rudolph's."

"Tezuka, don't you dare lose your serve," Atobe snapped. The 5-3 game was wearing on him. Having his serve broken had riled him, and all he could do now was count on Tezuka... damnit.

"Trust me," Tezuka returned, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Serve, serve, serve, serve...

Score tied 30-30.

"Now they'll show them up! Go Atobe-senpai!" Momoshirou cheered, and then as an afterthought, he tacked on, "Go, buchou!"

"40-30, Seigaku lead!"

Then it fell apart.

No matter how skilled they were, Tezuka and Atobe weren't able to account for what happened next. It was like getting hit by a freight bus as they were crossing the street. Yanagisawa's shots became sharper, and when Atobe moved to lob it out of his reach, Kisarazu was there, twirling as he shot a drop shot that made people applaud in appreciation.

Match Point.

"Game, St. Rudolph's, 6-3!"

The court was eerie in its stillness as Tezuka and Atobe turned to stare at each other. Breathlessly, everyone who knew anything about their rivalry waited for a reaction.

"It went better than last time," Tezuka said after a moment.

Atobe, whose temper had been on the verge of exploding, calmed down at Tezuka's relatively deadpan line. Tezuka was going to be graceful – Atobe could do no less.

"Because you listened to me," Atobe said, smirking.

The collective breath the regulars held was released.

"They're – not fighting?" Oishi said in awe.

"Doesn't seem like it, does it?" Fuji said placidly.

"It would probably work better if we actually did practice, as we said," Tezuka mused as they came off the court, not walking side by side, but not avoiding the other either.

"Nyah! They honestly can't want to play doubles again, can they?" Kikumaru yelped, horrified. Watching poor doubles games was as offensive to him as anything Atobe had ever said or done. Doubles was his specialty, and the Atobe-Tezuka pair desecrated it.

"It seems so," Oishi said, staring in awe at the relative ceasefire that seemed to be declared. He'd been hoping and praying that someday the two would get along, but now that it seemed to be starting... it was decidedly weird.

Ryuuzaki reached into her pocket and pulled out her traveling package of aspirin. She honestly hadn't expected the two to start figuring out some of the doubles tricks, and the idea that they wanted to play together again made her head hurt. When they came in front of her for evaluative comments, she just waved her hand to get rid of them. She simply couldn't deal with their insanity anymore.

It was just too weird having Tezuka and Atobe getting along.

Shaking her head in a bit of disgust, she turned bright eyes to her Golden Pair. "How about you two show me what real doubles looks like, so my headache will go away?" she asked.

"We were playing doubles!" Atobe protested from the bench.

"Not by a long shot." Kikumaru's disdainful reply, followed by the upset sniff was pretty indicative of his thoughts on their game. "You barely managed to make yourselves look like idiots."

Once again, the hyperactive player appeared to have forgotten that he was referring to Tezuka and Atobe as a collective front, and not Atobe only. The warning look given to him by Tezuka shushed him up quick, and Oishi gave his best friend an apologetic look.

"Let's go warm up, Eiji."

As the mild-natured vice-captain led his partner away from the courts, Fuji turned to Atobe with a pleased smile.

"You're improving." The prodigy appeared to have forgotten his problems for the moment. "Remember what I said? You have the skill, just not the training. Therefore, that's all you need to perfect."

"Yes," Atobe nodded thoughtfully, glancing at Tezuka, who had already gone back to the bench where his bag was placed and was riffling through it for his towel. "I believe that if we have the proper training, we would have done fine on the courts as a doubles pair. In fact, since we're both such good singles players, we would make a powerful doubles team."

"The amazing discovery of the day." Fuji jested lightly, patting Atobe on his shoulder. Fuji moved away, back to his own bag to retrieve something.

Atobe rose to wander over to where Tezuka was sitting. He hated the loss more than anything else. It was the second doubles loss he suffered, and he would make sure that it would never happen again!

Originally, he grew steadily angrier by the moment with each point they lost, but when it came down to the eventual match point, and seeing how both Tezuka wasn't as upset about the issue as he ought to be. There were ways to control his temper, he knew that. He simply needed the right triggers.

"Tezuka," Atobe sat down beside the captain without any invitation, causing the other boy to give him a look. The diva let the reprimanding look slide over him easily. "I think we should start training together from tomorrow onwards. What do you think? The both of us are skilled; in terms of tennis abilities, we have more than enough. All we lack is training and some coordination. I'm sure we can overcome that."

"You're referring to private training sessions for doubles?" The monotonous question and carefully neutral voice made Atobe sigh.

"Yes, of course. What else can that be?"

The Golden Pair was getting ready to start their game. They were facing a new doubles pair this time; the team captain of St. Rudolph, Akazawa, who used to be a singles player and a former doubles player called Kaneda. Both appeared to be slightly nervous about playing against the famed Golden Pair from Seigaku, but the manager called them to the side of the court and spoke to them before releasing them back to the courts.

"Oishi-Kikumaru pair of Seishun Gakuen versus Kaneda-Akazawa pair of St. Rudolph Boys' Junior High!"

Watching Kikumaru bounce out onto the court helped relax Ryuuzaki immensely. She had resigned herself to the fact that she would probably lose Doubles 2 as soon as she let her headstrong players tell her what to do, but having the Golden Pair around made her feel much better.

The Golden Pair would show people that Seigaku doubles really were the best.

Unfortunately, it didn't quite happen that way.

End: Chapter 12