Judo: A type of martial art popular in Japan that involves trying to get your opponent on the ground first (kinda like wrestling, but not really). Tezuka Kunihazu, Kin's grandfather, is a retired police officer who teaches judo to new policemen.

Thanks to gold.paperclips (Lizzie) and alolha123 for editing this. You guys are the best!

Chapter 24: Deja Vu

Inner Kin: I have lost all faith in you, oh dear creator.

Inner Taro: I, too, have lost all faith in you.

Me: WHAT THE CRAP ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? I will stand no SEDITION FROM MY OWN NONEXISTENT CHARACTERS.

Inner Kin: Kin-taro. Enough said.

Me: Oh, dear. (headpalms)

Sigh.

Kin had never realized how much time she had wasted playing tennis in the last few months. It had nearly been instinct to go to the tennis courts after school, and only when she realized she was the only one there did she remember that she wasn't supposed to be there.

'I'm soooo glad it's the weekend. But... with do I do with Yuuta? I've spent every weekend playing tennis with him, so how can I explain anything?'

By the time she had returned home, the roof was splattered with rain. The house felt very empty, and Kin was left with a hollow feeling. The only things she could do were sleep and homework.

'Ahh, sleep, what a glorious sensation. I've missed you so.' Propping on the bed, she pulled the covers over her head. She shut her eyes, curling into a small ball. A strange serenity came upon her, but unfortunately no hint of drowsiness followed. Her muscles still jittered with restlessness and a desire to move. Her body was prepared for some hardcore exercise, and it was hard to deny to the impulse.

She listened to the echoes of the rain with a heavy sigh. 'Besides, it's not like I could do anything anyway. I wonder what 'nii-chan and Taro are doing. Plus the team-' Unwillingly, her mind drifted back to Fukushi's skinny upraised finger, Hiroki's irritated embarrassment, Kiyoshi's perverted smile, Tashiro's fake tears...

'No, that's all over now. I've quit the tennis club. But I suppose it won't hurt to visit them-' But then, the last time she had seen them, Fukushi's outburst had spoken for the entire team. 'How can I possibly look at him squarely in the eye?' Then a possibility struck her. 'What if they aren't even in the hospital? What if it was just an excuse because they didn't want to be associated with me anymore? Because I was the only one who wanted to play in the competition?' A wave of morbid dread filled her stomach, and for a moment she felt sick.

'Nice going. How could you not see this earlier?'

Besides, it didn't matter anyway. At any rate, the forfeiture was probably fortunate.

'Was Kirihara even playing seriously?' In the entire game, she was being tossed around as a toy. What if she was nothing but a joke to him? What if he actually knew who she was? Mortification burned through her chest. 'Why do I even bother trying to do anything? I'm just degrading the Tezuka namesake.'

She punched her pillow in frustration, silently inventing a string of curses.

'Is it just me or does this seem awfully repetitive? Déjà vu-ish.'

'Your opinions are not welcome right now.'

'You never learn, do you? You repeat the same mistake thousands of times, and revert back to the loser you were at the beginning. Huh, with tennis, I thought we were actually getting somewhere. You're already thirteen – a teenager. Life is a cycle of-'

'Not one of these lame pep talks again. Besides, you're the hypocrite. If you know what I'm doing wrong, and you know I don't listen to you, why do you keep repeating the same mistake thousands of times?'

'I won't always be with you. You'll see.'

'I'm looking forward to it.' An awkward silence ensued in which she allowed her boiling emotions to settle.

Suddenly, a clanking ruckus jolted her awake. Her door flew open to reveal an upraised foot.

"HIIYAAAHHH!" His hands and feet became a blur in a flurry of impressive movements, and Kin was left to gawk in an extremely irritated state.

'What is this? A sudden bout of Alzheimer's? Does he not realize that maybe this room is mine and my door has a latch?!'

She cleared her throat. "Ahem, O Great Ojii-sama of the Judo Arts?" The balding master finished his routine with a punch and clapped his palms together with a stern face.

"What questions ponder your mind, O Great Disciple of the Unfathomable Divine Hand?"

"If mom sent you on some ridiculous mission-"

"Nope, this is of entirely my own goodwill." She blinked, now genuinely surprised and good-willed. "I heard you quit the tennis club."

"From who? It was mom, wasn't it? That stalker, she must have talked to sensei-"

"Ahem, but I was wondering then if you'd come to the police academy today. We haven't gone there since school began."

"There's a judo training session today?" Her ears perked up as her mind started exploring the possibilities.

"There're some newcomers as well that I'd like to introduce to you," her grandfather nodded, smug with his success. A rift deepened between Kin's eyebrows as she contemplated, semi-nostalgically, semi-morbidly. "Besides, some people like Shima-san have been asking me where you've been. I've been mentioning tennis, and they've all been cheering you on."

"Sure," she commented, not in the least bit sarcastic. "How long has Shima-jii-san been doing judo anyhow?"

"Maybe forty years?"

'It'll be the apocalypse before you'd keep a hobby that long.'

'Does failing at math qualify as a hobby?'

'Nope, too subconscious.'

"So are you coming?" His stern face still revealed a glimpse of eagerness, and Kin noticed a slight sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

"HA! That bead of sweat right there! Mom did send you after all! You can't fool me," she stuck out her tongue.

"Gah, so you got me there," he slumped, defeated. "Your mother is a beast, you know."

"Oh, I know her better than anybody," she rolled her eyes. 'But if I go, that means I'm such a fickle person! To switch from judo to tennis to judo so quickly...'

'You're a horrible person. I think you should have figured that out already.'

"N-no, I think this is a bad idea," she shook her head fervently, trying to remind herself of the pain of broken bones and sprained ankles, the reason she had quit in the first place.

"Well then, what a pain. I'll have to tell Shima to reserve one less chair at Kawamura's Sushi..." He tiptoed slowly towards the door before he was halted by a vibrant scream.

"SUSHI? You never mentioned anything about that," she grabbed her sneakers and ran out the door. "COME ON, ojii-chan, you'll be late!"

"Oi, I don't think you even remember where the police station is!" Freezing in mid-step, she rubbed her chin.

'Good point.'

"Did you remember your judogi?"

She rolled her eyes. "Check."

"Water bottle?"

"Check."

"What about your green belt?"

Her eyebrow twitched. "It's brown now, remember? With black and white stripes. After my win at the local preliminaries, remember?"

"Wasn't that the one where you nearly choked your opponent to death?"

"That wasn't my fault, he wouldn't let go."

"Mah, children are growing up too fast. You know, if you keep failing math, you're always welcome at the police station..."

"Mom would have killed you for saying that," she stuck out her tongue childishly.

"That is why I prefer you to your older brother," he smiled solemnly.

"You said that you preferred him to me last week!" she protested.

"Nuh-uh. I think you need to check your hearing."

"I don't think we're getting anywhere with this."

--Later that Day--

When they arrived, Kin was surprised at all the new faces. How could so much change in such a short period?

"Why are there so many people here? Surely not all of them are for judo practice," she grimaced. 'Why do I have such horrible luck? Just in those few months when I was gone...' The crease on her brow furrowed.

"Kin-chan, is that you?" Surely that voice was just a figment of her imagination. Cowering, she sped off in the other direction. "Wait up, Kin-chan!" She picked up her pace, determined to shake off this eerily familiar voice that was pestering her head. "Kin-chan! Wai-"

'Will you shut up, Inner Kin? I'm trying to find Shima-jii-san!'

'Erm-'

"There you are!" A hand was placed on her shoulder, and chills went up her spine. On pure reflex, with a mighty hiyaaahhh used all of her body weight to make a shoulder drop, a seoi otoshi by flipping him over her shoulder and slapping him on the ground, fixed in place.

"Aaaahhh... I think I'm going to throw up," a voice piped up from under her elbow. 'Huh? AAHHH!'

"Taro-chan? I-I'm so sorry," she stuttered, shocked. "I thought you were... someone else." She gulped, visibly shocked at what damage she could have caused to her best friend.

"Oh, my back hurts... How can you possibly be a girl? You're way too strong for your own good," he grumbled, his eyes swirling.

"Sorry," she offered her hand, and jolted him to his feet. "Instinct."

"It's instinct to beat up your best friend who's been doing laps chasing you?"

"Err, something of the like." She sweat dropped, nervous about why he was doing here. "So what are you doing here?" The question did not mean to be rude, abrupt or offensive, but once it rolled off her tongue, she immediately regretted it. Even the innocent blue-eyed youth blinked, shielding his hurt and surprise.

"Do I need a reason to spend more time with my best friend?" A flicker of anger appeared in the depths of his eyes. "You've been avoiding me the entire week. Are you mad? Did I do something wrong? I don't understand anything!" His distress was obvious, and she felt something like guilt plague her insides. They had always confided in each other, even in the most embarrassing of situations, but recently, because Taro didn't have the same ability in tennis, their bond was wavering. "Sometimes I feel like I don't even know you anymore. The more I try to get closer to you, you shove me away. Is it that Yuuta guy? Did he say something when the team was gone? Because if you want me to stay away from you, just tell me. It's not like I mean to be a stalker or anything."

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out except for gibberish. How was she supposed to answer? She knew what he was looking for—relief and reassurance that she was still the same Kin he had grown up loving. But how could she explain her reasons and feelings without lying? She hated to admit it, but there were just some things that she didn't understand herself, much less explain to others.

She closed her mouth, a melancholy settling over her at the realization at how much she's changed. 'I've never had problems trusting him before. Why now?'

"...Fine then." He turned his back to her, resisting a sudden lump in his throat. "I guess I'll see you at school on Monday."

"I-" She closed her eyes, hoping that she wouldn't regret this day. 'Curse teenage hormones.' "GET BACK HERE!" She didn't understand her own turmoil, but something like a volcano erupted inside her.

She jerked him back by the collar, alarmed to see his eyes teary, but that did nothing to appease her fury. "I wasn't done talking to you," she warned in a dangerously low voice. "Why do I have to tell you everything? Do I have no privacy in my own thoughts? This does not concern you, Aoki. Besides, Fuji-chan has done absolutely nothing. You're simply jealous." Her eyes flickered dangerously. "For goodness' sake, why do you have to make me feel so guilty about myself? These are my own personal decisions, and if you really cared about me, you would find out no matter what, even if I didn't say anything."

Finally done with her childish tantrum, she let him go. He was paralyzed with amazement. 'Did she just—n-no way. I don't understand, but at least she's talking to me now.'

Suddenly, a miracle happened. With nearly overflowing tears, he smiled—a gorgeous, innocent smile that glowed with purity and simplicity. It was the same trademark smile that he had so artfully mastered—the same one that she had fallen in love with at first sight. "Yay, you're back, Kin-chan."

She was so flabbergasted at his fawning expression that she decided that she didn't understand him any more than he understood her.

"Hey look, it's the love-struck duo again," a familiar voice teased.

"Shima-jii-chan! We're no more love-struck than you are to Miroki-baa-san," Kin glared at him, a smile tugging at her lips.

"S-shh, how'd you find out about that?" He sweat dropped.

"Well, it's pretty much common knowledge..."

"Don't tell my wife, okay? She'll—"

"Don't worry about it. I'll be sure to tell her," Kin beamed, oblivious to a slouching Taro.

"If you do, I'll beat you to a pulp," he challenged, staring daggers.

"Bring it on, old man. It's time for the last generation to know their place. Hmph," she smirked confidentally, tilting her chin up.

"Yeah, well, wanna fight?" He raised his fist, full of pride and determination.

Kin pointed her thumb down. "You. Are. Going. Down." She said, emphasizing each word.

"Oh, not this again..." The spectators groaned, and no one noticed a whimpering Taro in the corner.

--Round One--

Tezuka Kin squinted her eyes in fierce concentration. The most important moments of the game were in the first few seconds, where most of all the opponents were defeated. Her stance felt awkwardly familiar, but her judo reflexes and impulses were still very much intact. Her muscles were slightly stiff and tense, but with it came a burst of adrenaline, and Kin licked her lips. She scrutinized every tiny movement of her opponent, her eyes prying for any sign of weakness or attack. Her feet moved on instinct, as if reacting to the silent rhythm of the opponent. He had the upper hand, and he knew it. She hadn't practiced in months, and her entire body was tense.

But that, she knew, was soon about to change. She would create her own beat, her own melody, and force him to dance along. And in a tiny misstep or mishap, she would attack—vigorously, mercilessly and fatally.

She missed this sensation so much.

Her feet picked up the pace. She swung her head back, swinging loose punches, testing his reflexes. Deliberately slowly, she took a step back, faking an opening.

He saw it, and fell into her trap... literally.

She recognized the movement. 'Tsuri-goshi.' And she knew exactly how to counter it. On the first impact, she twisted her body to the left, performing an uki-goshi. She was pretty impressed for a second at how agile the old man was, despite his seeming fragility.

'But not fragile enough,' she thought as she pinned him down with her knee, shining a bright grin of victory. Her grandfather blew the whistle and immediately the crowd went in an uproar.

"4.76 seconds," he said, glancing at his stopwatch. She beamed a huge smile, both relieved and amazed by her sudden, extreme burst of energy.

"T-that was not fair! I couldn't even react. Th-that girl—she's improved!" The old man gaped at her incredulously, waving an accusing bony finger.

Laughing, Kin replied, "No, I just think that you've been slacking off recently, Shima-jii-san. Of course, if you actually went seriously on me, you would've stood a chance, right?"

"I-Impossible..." He stood there, flabbergasted. Then, more quickly than she thought humanly possible, he grabbed her shirt and moved their faces closer. "What's your secret? Who's been your master at judo for the past few months? WHO, I demand you?!" Eyes wide, she tried to back away, but to no avail. "A secret martial art champion who lurks in town? Training day and night to avenge me? No, it can't be—STEROIDS?"

"Aahhh!" Shivering, she escaped his grasp, terrified by his sudden accusations. Really, had her skills improved that much from tennis? Agility, strength and reflex? It didn't seem possible, in such a short time...

"So you're not going to talk, eh? Fine then, I'll do it seriously this time, and squash the truth out of you!" She opened her mouth to protest, but it didn't seem like she had much of a choice-

--Round Two--

A wave of unease passed through her this time, as rays of morbid hatred seemed to emit from the beady eyes of her opponent. 'Is it just me or is this rivalry a little too one-sided?' However, she didn't let that bother her at all. She loved this—the tingling of anticipation in her muscles, ready to spring at any nanosecond. The old man was still quite decent, but no stronger than a green belt, she had to say. His skills were getting a little rusty, and he was far from his prime; on the other hand, she was barely there yet.

Judo was a give-it-all sport. A condensed world within a few seconds or minutes, and it suited Kin perfectly, because she was an explosion of energy. But that explosion took diligent pains to perfect during its release and control, because when it came to ground wrestling, her skills were absolutely abysmal, due to her lack of extended stamina and strength, and her old friend knew this very well.

This time, however, a confrontation on the ground seemed inevitable. She met a miniscule relapse when her head struck her ground, her dark hair covering her eyes. Yet now, the movements came much more fluidly. Her body knew precisely what to do with no excess time or energy wasted. Using the momentum of her newfound determination, she swerved her body upright, forcing him into her former position. He could only struggle, imprisoned by a little girl.

"Shima-jii-chan, why do you make yourself look so embarrassing?"

--Round Three--

Tennis had helped. Immensely. Incalculably. It was like she was a completely different being now. Her nerves and muscles seemed to be on a completely new level of function, trained by months of continued backbreaking routines. Her muscles were warm from the warm-up, and this time, Kin would not be caught off-guard.

She knew that her opponent still held a very high degree of restraint against her. He chose not to use his famous choking techniques or shoulder throws, because his pride prevented him by going all-out on a measly female teenager.

'Big mistake.' Of course, it wasn't as if she would go all out against him either—he was an old man who used arthritis as an excuse to get away from judo practice. Not today though, interestingly enough.

"It's gotta be steroids," he moaned. She could tell that he was still a little unbalanced from the first two lightning-quick throws. Although she could still feel the burning fire of ambition inside him, it had begun to waver in fear.

This time, it was Kin who made the first move. It was well-planned, but she had thrust so hard that she was unused to her own strength, and she couldn't pull back in time. The wind was knocked out of her as she struck the ground—hard. Pushing away the pain, she focused on reversing the roles.

Then came a world of unbelievable agony. Her nerves burned with scorching white pain, dulling her other senses. Cursing loudly, she brought up her knee to her hands. 'My ankle...'

Her eyes clouded by hot tears, she felt the soft caress on her ankle. A sudden realization came to her. 'Fukushi. The fight. The fall. Then I sprained my ankle.'

"Don't move," a voice commanded calmly. The pain dulled misleadingly and then spiked again. Letting out a string of curse words no child should know, she banged her head on the mat.

'Overconfidence. Carelessness. Nice going, Kin.'

--The Next Day--

"Kin, are you going to finish your lunch?" The nagging voice of her mother made her roll her eyes. She knew it was disrespectful, but as of the moment she didn't really care.

"No, I'm done." She pushed out of her chair and limped as she lifted her dishes to the sink.

"Onii-chan!" Kin called as she watched her brother sprint past her. "Where are you going?"

"Did you forget? It's the Kantou preliminaries for Seigaku today," he answered solemnly, preparing his tennis bag. She gasped. So much had happened recently that her mind had completely forgotten about Seigaku.

"Hold on! Hold on, I have to come!" Half-limping, she grabbed her sneakers and her watch. "I am so coming."

He blinked, surprised. "I thought you weren't interested. You never came to any of my earlier games."

"Yeah, yeah," she replied hastily, her insides flaring. "That's because they were against weak people. This is against Hyotei Gakuen, right? That ridiculously bratty school?"

"Well then. Suit yourself," he replied, surprisingly smug. He opened the door halfway, and then stopped, giving her an ambivalent look.

"Don't let your guard down." The moment was surprisingly comical, as a growing vein appeared on her forehead.

A flare of irritation exploded inside her. "I should be saying that to you! We don't have time for lectures because you have a nemesis to defeat, Atobe Keigo. Teach that brat the true meaning of the Tezuka name." If he was disapproving of her disrespectfulness, he didn't show it, only a slight amusement as he raised his chin.

"All right! Judo is too violent for me, so tennis is the way to go!"

'W-w-wait. Hold on a sec. Isn't that statement a little... contradictory from the beginning of the chapter?'

Sorry, I'm ending it here. The last chapter's pretty long, and there's an epilogue, and that's it. That is, if I don't write a sequel. (Which... I probably will.) This chapter took forever because I kept procrastinating the research for judo. I didn't know how to describe judo, because I'm not very familiar with it at all and I suck at action scenes--I tried my best at least, so sorry if it's not accurate.