title: the worth of things
word count: 2, 968
summary: After the Rokkaku match, a request is made. Old dreams are reevaluated, while new ones begin to take flight

the worth of things

What happened first was a swift kick to the back of his chair followed by a single slap against the headrest of the seat, sounding like thunder. That was enough to rouse Fuji from his nap, though Eiji's head still titled slightly towards Fuji's shoulder, his eyes closed in undisturbed sleep. The bus was silent, as expected when the ride back to Seigaku was well over an hour long. At the head of the bus was Ryuzaki-sensai and Inui, busy making comments and notes on separate notebooks, their mumbled voices the only sound besides the wind drifting from half-open windows.

Lifting a hand to brush back his bangs, Fuji considered how he was going to take down Echizen for waking him up until he realized that Echizen was stretched out in the seat in front of him, swinging his legs over the side of the seat and hat pushed over his face to block the filtering, hazy sun.

So, after uncrossing his legs and pulling out his earphones, Fuji craned his neck to meet Oishi's bashful eyes.

"Congrats on winnin' today, Fuji."

Fuji brushed aside Oishi's compliment with a slight wave of his hand, steadying Eiji's drooping head with the other. "No big deal."

"I had fun today." Fuji smiled inwardly, trying to remember Saeki's face as they shook hands, the once-over he gave to Eiji before whispering candidly that he always thought Fuji's forte was singles play. "Rokkaku will be a force to deal with, 'specially with their freshmen captain."

"And to think, Rokkaku wasn't even on our radar until today."

There was something else on Oishi's mind, the feeling and doubt enough to make Fuji's smile fade, his eyes taking in Oishi's slumped figure, the way his eyes could not meet Fuji's own. Since their first year, Fuji knew Oishi's nature, how when nervous, he would talk endlessly, ramblings that held a bitter edge to all his spoken words, how his hands would take a life of its own, spinning webs and interconnecting lines to warn off everyone else in noticing his own troubles.

"The Saeki-Itsuki pairing will just continue to grow, given Saeki's ability to read motion like that. It was almost inspiring really, to see so much attention given to –"

Fuji shook his head, trying to follow Oishi's circling hands, the intense light in his eyes, "Oishi?"

"Hm?" Oishi paused, one hand pressed against the windowpane, the other nervously clutching at the hem of his team jacket. "What's wrong?"

"I should be asking you that."

He opened his mouth to speak, only to have a loud ringtone blast through the silence of the bus, causing for Momoshiro to suck in the tiny dribble of spit that dripped from the edge of his mouth and Kaidoh to fall off his seat in shock.

"What the-?" Fuji patted his pockets, feeling the vibration of his phone as the ringtone rang again, a happy melody complete with a high-pitched girl singing gargled English.

"Fuji-senpai!"
"Turn it off!"

Cries of protest rose from the rest of the team as Fuji hurried to flip open his phone, noticing that it was Yumiko calling as he pushed Eiji hard on his shoulder.

"I told you, stop changing my ringtones!"

"Hy-nya?" Eiji had to shake his head a few times to get his eyes to open up fully, but with a grace that was quickly becoming his trademark, Eiji grabbed for Fuji's phone and scampered out of the seat and into the aisle.

"Oh, oh, it's the Chocolates' Love-sick! Really cute, nya?"
"Eiji, give it back! Nee-san's calling."

"Yeah, yeah, what you say? What you say? Lovesick, lovesick!"
"EIJI!"

"Lovesick, lovesick, for you, FOOOOOOOOR YOU!!"
"GIVE ME MY PHONE!"

"FUJI! KIKUMARU!"

Fuji let go of Eiji's wrist, suddenly remembering where they were standing, how loud they were screaming, and how narrow Ryuzaki-sensai's eyes were. Her reprimand was sharp enough to make Eiji wince. In that moment, Fuji grabbed onto his phone, diving into the seat and crossing his legs, leaving Eiji standing by himself in the aisle, arms flung high over his head, as if bracing for the rest of their coach's scolding.

"What have I told you about resting AFTER a match? Why aren't you EVER tired from playing? AND WHY ARE YOU TWO SITTING NEXT TO EACH OTHER?"

Taka was the first to laugh, clutching his hands over his mouth and bowing his head to keep his happy face hidden from view. Echizen twitched, pulling his hat lower over his eyes as if to block out the sudden eruption of noise, Eiji's frantic protests and stomping feet, Ryuzaki-sensai's continued lecture and threat that both of them will be running laps ("all the way to Tezuka in Germany") if the rest of the ride back did not go smoothly.

He caught sight of Oishi's eyes, just once, before Eiji slumped back into the seat, nudging at Fuji's side with his elbow. "Gah, what a wake-up call, huh, Fuji?"

Fuji turned to smile at Eiji, trying to push aside what he saw etched deeply in Oishi's face. "Why do you keep on changing my ringtones, Eiji?"

"Ne, ne, Oishi, you like that song too, right?"

Oishi was quick to smile back at Eiji's beaming face, but Fuji saw it again before his big grin overshadow anything else.

It was pain and it was regret. Fuji closed his eyes, meditating on the words he knew was coming, the words that weighed more than anything else at that moment. Outside, the clouds were starting to gather. A storm was coming.
--

The first rain was often the lightest, enough to make Eiji whoop in happiness, tossing his heavy tennis bag to the ground so he could cartwheel across the grass, yelling for Ryoma and Momoshiro to follow him.

Oishi excused himself, stating he needed something from the locker room as Ryuzaki-sensei gathered the rest of the team to congratulate them on today's victory, though Rokkaku can no longer be taken lightly, given the talent of their captain and their doubles pairs.

Of course, Eiji wouldn't stop letting out cries of joy, tugging at Kaidoh's tennis bag until the underclassmen wheeled around on his heels to chase after the laughing senpai and Taka was attempting to keep a drowsy Echizen standing on both feet.

He smiled, watching them play as Ryuzaki-sensai mentioned again to Inui that this team was all foxes and raccoons, nipping at each other's tails (only to have Inui suggest that he bring out Inui juice as a means of suppressing the madness). Removing his tennis bag off his shoulder to lay lightly on the grass next to Eiji's, he quietly backed away from the gathered group and ran to the back of the school, following Oishi's footsteps.

When it mattered, Fuji could be as silent as a shadow, passing through the wet grass and slick concrete like a thought, a memory.
--

"What's wrong, Oishi?"

His voice was enough to make Oishi drop the roll of medical tape from his wrist, the loose edges of his makeshift bandage lightly shivering with his tense movements. Oishi stood from his seat on the bench, trying to keep his eyes away from Fuji's own. "Well, though I didn't play today, my wrist is still acting up."

"No, sit back down." Fuji shook his head, loose bits of rain falling from his shoulders to hit lightly against the floor as he strolled over to where Oishi stood. "I'll finish taping it for you."

He kept his head bowed, concentrating on Oishi's wrist, the slight swell, the way Oishi's lips pursed together though Fuji's touch was gentle, barely pulling at the bandage.

"Didn't realize the injury was that bad, eh, Fuji?"
"No."

They were silent as Fuji wound tape around Oishi's wrist, and on his insistence, all the way to the base of his fingers. The rain seemed to pelt at the window, with a tenacity that shook the glass though the echoes of Eiji's, as well as Momo's and Taka's laughter, drifted on the back of the storm wind.

Oishi cradled his wrist onto his lap, staring intently on the near prefect job Fuji did as the other boy sat waiting, legs crossed as his hands ran through his damp hair.

"#1 at Nationals." Oishi bit back a corner of his lip, trying to keep his voice steady as he spoke, "That's what Eiji told me. That's why we were doubles partners, to push each other towards that goal."

"And now look, Fuji." Oishi attempt to grasp one of the rackets that stood by his feet in a neat pile, only to have the racket waver in his unsteady grip. "I can't even hold a racket right anymore."

His hand gently covered Oishi's own and lightly, Fuji pulled the racket from Oishi's hand. "Oishi, listen –"

"Please." Oishi stood, his head bowed as Fuji looked up in surprise. "Continue playing with Eiji."
--

The rain fell harder, lighting flashing quickly in the sky as Eiji waved bye-bye to Momoshiro's younger sisters, calling out a good evening to Momo's parents. As the car pulled away from Seigaku, Eiji ran over to where Ryuzaki-sensai and Taka stood, sharing an umbrella.

"Ne, ne, my oka-san's coming soon! She can give everyone a ride, so you can leave Ryuzaki-sensai. I'll make sure everyone gets home, nya!"

Ryuzaki-sensai smiled, trying to forget the cold that steeped into her body, the cool whip of the wind freezing her old bones. "As your coach and as a teacher of Seigaku, you know that's not possible."

"Then maybe we should go to the locker room or something." Taka kept the umbrella held mostly over Ryuzaki-sensai's head, the rain making his hair cling to the base of his skull, tiny rivers running down his face. "It's too cold out here."

"Yeah, yeah, let's go, let's go, nya!"
"Kikumaru –"

He paused in mid-step, his tennis bag hoisted over his shoulder, his right hand picking up Fuji's discarded bag. "Hoi, hoi?"

She accepted Taka's offered hand gratefully, leaning slightly against the boy's strong frame as she spoke, "Taka?"

"Yes, Sensai?"
"Why don't you go and get the others? I think they're still inside the locker room."

With a look towards Eiji's stiff figure and Ryuzaki-sensai's pursed lips, Taka nodded, handing the umbrella to the older woman before sprinting off into the rain.

"Kikumaru."
"Hoi, hoi!"

"Why don't you help an old lady hold her bags while we wait?"
--

The worth of things, the true measure of words and feelings, can never be expressed in just one gesture. The worth of Oishi's request, the pain of it, was enough to make Fuji's eyes widen in first surprise then sympathy. The worth of bandages and doubt, the weight of an empty seat and the spaces between words filling with sorrow; those are things that could never be adequately described, even as Oishi continued to speak against the rage of the coming storm.

"Eiji said he'll play doubles with me until the day he can surpass me. And now he has." Oishi lowered his hand, his good hand clutching at the base of his injured wrist. "I won't be any use to him. #1 is his dream now, and only his."

And then Fuji laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Oishi's eyes widen and then narrowed in anger. "Are you laughing at -!"

"But Oishi, wasn't it your dream too?" He swung his legs lightly before he stood from the bench, gathering Oishi's tennis rackets with both hands before kneeling to stuff them in Oishi's open bag. His smile was bright as he spoke, his long fingers gently brushing back strands of his wet hair, "I haven't played doubles for long, but I know this; doubles are two people working together to accomplish a goal."

Fuji then turned, offering his filled tennis bag to a smiling Oishi, "And I think Eiji wants to accomplish his goal with you. Not me."

"So work hard, Oishi."

The worth of Fuji's hand, lightly pressing against his shoulder, the smile they shared together was enough to make even the rain, pelting against the window, appear to be nothing more but manifestations of good thought and new beginnings.

"Your goal isn't that far off, now is it?"
--

"And you're sure?"

He nodded, the bits of rain clinging to his hair as his catlike eyes took in the dark of the gathering twilight, the echoes of cars as they zoomed past Seigaku, splattering puddles in the midst of spinning tires. His grip around the umbrella handle tightened as he spoke, his head held high.

"I'm not Fuji. I can't keep on changing partners, nya."

Rain fell like tears across his focused face, his unwavering glance. Lighting tore at patches of hazy clouds and the wind was strong enough to knock the handles of his tennis rackets against Fuji's own.

Eiji turned to stare at Ryuzaki-sensei, a smile breaking across his face even as the rain continued to fall. "And it's not fair to ask Fuji to keep playing doubles all the time with me. You know he's a better singles player."

"Ne. ne, Sensai, it's not fair to either one of us."

He lifted his face to meet the wind, his free hand holding on tightly to the umbrella to stop it from blowing away, his eyes closed to meet the rain. "I'm gonna get better, nya. And then the Golden Pair will win, even with Oishi's injury."

Eiji's eyes glistened, streaks of rain gently clinging to the underside of his eyes, falling to meet at the base of his chin, "We're making it to Nationals, just like last year."
--

It was a slow walk back from the locker room to the gates of Seigaku, where Eiji and Ryuzaki-sensai waited, their heads bowed under one single umbrella. The sidewalk was slippery, the grass nearly crushed by the weight of gathering raindrops. Taka lead the way, hoisting Oishi's tennis bag over one shoulder, happily talking about tomorrow's Culture Festival, how his father was donating almost ten pounds of sushi and how it better be beautiful weather tomorrow.

Fuji and Oishi smiled, making comments and replies when necessary. And as Eiji's waving figure came into view, Fuji gently tugged at Oishi's elbow, causing for him to lift his head to meet Fuji's smiling face.

"Work as hard as you can, Oishi. And if that time comes, and you need to rest, then don't worry. We'll wait for you to get better."

Taka ran ahead first, offering Oishi's dry team jacket to Ryuzaki-sensai as Eiji yelled for Oishi and Fuji to hurry up, jumping off the ground as he pumped his arms vigorously into the air.

His hand around Oishi's elbow was tight, filled with warmth that matched his shimmering eyes, "Just like how we're waiting for Tezuka."

"Fuji –"

And even if Oishi knew what to say, he couldn't speak, the lump in his throat swelling at Fuji's kindness, the hidden layer of pain underneath Fuji's words. The bond between Fuji and Eiji, that playful, devilish friendship, as seen in full flower on the courts today and in the bus, was not enough to erase the pain that Fuji carried with the absence of their Buchou. Besides Oishi, Fuji appeared to be one of Tezuka's closest friends, and every match without him must be a trial, a battle of mental endurance.

Because in the end, even if he never stepped on a court today, at least Oishi's best friend was around, cheering like an idiot at the rain, screaming for him and Fuji to run barefoot in the grass.

Oishi watched Fuji, taking off his shoes and socks to join Eiji's wild dance and finally, he understood what Fuji was saying, what Eiji was saying, underneath his shouts and screams, what both of their eyes were trying to tell him.

To be number 1 in the nation. It was everyone's dream that year. To think it was just one person's was not only absurd, but also, selfish.

For the first time today, Oishi's smile was genuine.
--

The worth of friendship was the heaviest weight on all their shoulders that day, waiting for their rides back home, Ryuzaki-sensai finally giving into Taka's request and sitting in her warm car, watching and watching as Fuji and Eiji took turns running and then sliding on the patch of grass before Seigaku's gate, Taka and Oishi laughing as they stood watching.

And when Oishi turned to Ryuzaki-sensai, she nodded, understanding instantly what his eyes were saying, sparkling that brightly even in the midst of a rain storm. A team full of foxes and raccoons never listened to logic, even when the obvious and the logical were right in front of their faces.

She nodded again, even when Oishi's eyes shifted to watch the madness of Fuji and Eiji's wild runs. Until the day Fuji and Eiji both approach her, she'll never pair them as doubles partners, to avoid miscommunication and the loss of inspiration that forms the backbone of her tennis team.

The worth of the little things, Eiji's hand on Oishi's shoulder, Fuji's brilliant smile as Taka slipped on a patch of particularly slick grass, was enough for her to reevaluate victory and its ramifications. She wouldn't risk all of them forgetting the meaning of hard work, the worth of waiting and patience for easy victories.

Until the day Fuji and Eiji as well as Oishi decide that it's okay, Ryuzaki was going to keep the Golden Pair together, to keep inspiration alive throughout the whole team.

Some things were just that simple.
--

author's notes: Wow, it's been a long time, hasn't it? Well, I rewatched that Dream Pair episode where Fuji and Eiji kicked some serious ass and always wondered why the heck didn't Seigaku just keep that doubles team? So from there, this one-shot was born. Also, beware of the Prince of Tennis Musicals. go search on youtube underneath tenimyu and get ready to be seriously either amused, instantly obssessed or both. Pretty boys dancing with tennis rackets and singing in Engrish.. it's all sorts of amusing. of course, it's hard for me to write PoT ff without having some image of the musical actors in my head. JUST BE GONE and let me write my fanfiction in peace!!! Awww... as much as I love the Golden Pair, I can't help but wish there were more episodes where Fuji and Eiji played doubles. They're quite an amazing team to watch, and Fuji was really sweet all during that match. Yay for friendship!