Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: This fic is 40.5-AU. Much though I love the new details, this was written before the book came out, so they obviously weren't included, and I'm not going to rewrite entire chapters due to new facts about ten percent of the fanbase ever bother to find out.

Nothing in Tennis

"Love means nothing in tennis, but in life, it is everything."

- Anonymous

Chapter 1

Sunlight and Smiles

It was, indeed, a very lovely spring day. This was clear even on the tennis courts of Yamabuki High School, where the various boys were more concentrated on training than enjoying the beauty of the day. Well, for the most part, they were.

One of them, though, wearing the regulars' uniform, simply leant against a wire fence as he watched the others train. Occasionally he would bark out an order or two, or pause to ogle at a pretty girl – or boy – passing by. For the most part, however, he seemed to be enjoying the sunshine, forgoing practice altogether.

Suddenly, he felt a poke on his back. Someone had obviously dared to strike their finger through the wire fence and disturb him. Now, this was an unforgivable offence. Whoever had done it was going to pay, he decided, pushing himself off the fence and twirling around to see whoever had disturbed him.

At first, he didn't see anything. Then, a chuckle drew his gaze lower, first to a head of somewhat messy blue hair, then a worn green headband. Below this were big brown eyes looking up at him, sparkling with delight.

"Hey there, Sengoku-senpai desu," said the little creature in front of him, a bright smile on his face. "Slacking off now that you're the captain?"

"Dan-kun!" exclaimed Sengoku, delighted. He would have liked to hug the smaller boy, and would have done so if not for the fence. "In fact, I wasn't. I was observing," he then said with a mockingly serious tone even as is eyes still sparkled with humour. "It is a captain's duty, you know!"

"Suuure desu." Dan cocked his head to the side, still smiling. "I never knew you'd become so lazy when I'm not keeping an eye on you, Sengoku-senpai."

"You know it, Dan-kun," the redhead chuckled. Then, he shook his head, still smiling. "Nah. Actually, I was waiting for you to show up. It's not every day my favourite kouhai joins the club, after all!"

"Oh, stop it desu," Dan muttered, an absolutely adorable flush rising to his cheeks. "We've hardly even met in the last two years desu!"

"Indeed," sighed Sengoku. "And it tears at my heart, yes it does!" He then nodded towards the door in the fence. "Come on in here. I'll introduce you to the rest of the team. And then, we can both get back to practice, o serious one."

Dan stuck out his tongue. "I just don't want you to get any worse than you already are, Sengoku-senpai desu," he said with a somewhat teasing tone.

"You wound me," Sengoku replied cheerfully. Then, he turned towards the courts again. Some of the players had noticed their captain talking with someone, and it was about the time the rest of them did, too. "Oi, everyone!" he shouted. "Gather up here! I've something to tell you all!"

After a moment, some questions, a lot of chatter, and some squabbling, the whole club was standing in front of him in somewhat passable rows. Yamabuki High's tennis club had never been particularly known for its discipline, and as long as they were indeed known for their skills, Sengoku was not about to change that tradition in the time he was the captain. Now, he eyed his not-so-disciplined team.

"This," he said, gesturing towards the small boy next to him, "is Dan Taichi. He is starting as a first-year in both the school and the team. He may look small," Dan flushed a bit again, "but he's got enough energy for someone twice his size, so no bullying the little one, do you hear me?"

"It's nice to meet you desu!" Dan said, the flush on his face due to half embarrassment, half excitement. "I'll work hard and do my best desu!"

"Of course, this means some changes to the line-up," Sengoku then said. "I was thinking that out of the current regulars, we could drop –"

"Wait a moment," a voice spoke up from the middle of the group, where the second-years were standing. "You mean you're going to make him a regular right away?"

"Of course," Sengoku said, blinking a bit. "He's certainly good enough."

"But he's just a first-year!" another voice joined the complaints. "First-years should be picking up balls and practicing swings, not playing actual games!" A few others murmured approvingly even though no one else voiced their opinion quite as fiercely.

Sengoku sighed. "Fine," he snapped. "I'll make a bet with you lot, okay? I'm betting on Dan-kun." Eyeing the noisiest complainers, he said, "Anyone who questions my decision may play a match against Dan-kun – of course, taking into account the strain if he has to play several matches in a row. If any of you win one game – not even a match, a single game – from him, he'll be picking balls with the other first years for at least a month. If, however, you don't, none of those who played against him have any chance of being regulars for at least two months. Agreed?"

The second-years seemed somewhat taken aback, probably due to his surprisingly serious tone. However, there were no complaints. Apparently they were that confident in their skills.

Turning towards the boy in question, Sengoku raised his eyebrows. "Is this okay, Dan-kun?" he said. "I know it sounds harsh, but I have faith in you."

"It's fine, Sengoku-senpai desu," Dan replied with a smile. "I wouldn't mind picking balls, really." The gentle smile turned into something else for a second, something almost predator-like. Sengoku blinked, not having seen such an expression on the younger boy's face before. "But then," Dan continued, "I'm not about to pick them, so my opinion does not matter desu."

"That's the spirit," laughed Sengoku. "Okay, who's the first one?"

It wasn't awfully hard to find a volunteer. However confident both Sengoku and Dan seemed in the little boy's skills, he was still awfully small and probably looked like easy prey. They knew Sengoku well enough not to always take him seriously besides, and they probably thought of Dan as just another overly confident first-year about to learn a lesson. Ah, well. Someone would learn his lesson, indeed, but it wasn't going to be Dan, of that Sengoku was sure.

The first match started peacefully enough with the second-year's serve. He was a good player, not regular level but good enough. Nevertheless, Dan returned his serve easily. After a short rally, the younger boy scored. The same formula applied to the next few balls. The opponent seemed somewhat baffled – as well as annoyed – as it was announced Dan had won the first game.

Sengoku smirked as Dan got ready to serve. Muromachi by his side, as well as the others who had been in the middle school team – all regulars even now –, smiled as well. They knew all too well what would happen, now.

The opponent could not know, though. He ran to meet what he assumed to be a somewhat normal serve. To his misfortune, though, it was anything but normal. With more strength than could be expected from such a small boy's serve, the ball bounced up from the ground, heading right towards the opponent's face. Not having time to sidestep it, the poor boy was hit with the ball.

"No way," someone gasped. "It's the Twist Serve!"

"Indeed." Sengoku grinned. "Nice, Dan-kun!" he then shouted, gaining an embarrassed flush and a mumbled thank-you from Dan. And then, the sight of another Twist Serve. And another. And another.

The originally somewhat cocky second-year didn't seem as sure of himself as it was again the time for his serve. He seemed somewhat baffled, too, as Dan switched the racquet to his left hand. Sengoku's grin got even broader. Time to play seriously, it seemed.

If Dan had before been good enough, now he was even better. It seemed he was almost toying with his opponent, not that Dan would ever do something like that. He was far too nice for such tricks. That was exactly what made him so adorable – well, part of the reason, at least.

Dan had grown a bit since his first year of middle school, Sengoku observed. Not much, really, he couldn't have gained more than a few centimetres of height, at least, and didn't look much broader either. However, while his size hadn't changed much, there was something else in him, something different. A kind of confidence, perhaps, and definite strength and balance in the way he moved, every step seeming calculated yet natural. He was still a kid, but not the clumsy, scrawny kid he had used to be.

Dan ran towards the net, suddenly, his ponytail flowing behind him. His hair was longer than before, too; it could have never been worn in a ponytail just three years ago. It gave him a bit more mature look, although not by much. However old he was, he would always look young in Sengoku's eyes.

His skills had developed, too, but that was hardly a surprise. Sengoku had been keeping a close track of his favourite kouhai's achievements. He knew of all the matches, all the victories. It was due to this that he hadn't hesitated for a moment to make the bet. It certainly wasn't going to be Dan who wouldn't make a regular, here.

A feint, making the opponent run to one side, then hitting the ball into the opposite direction. Score. Dan was working at an easy pace, not even breathing hard yet, yet he seemed to have no difficulty with breaking his opponent's serve time and time again. A precise lob, pinpointed on the back line – had Dan moved on to imitate other Seigaku players aside from Echizen, now? Interesting – and he won yet another game.

Seeing the younger boy preparing to serve with his right hand again, Sengoku grinned. Oh, but there was something that would be even more interesting. "What's this, Dan-kun?" he asked with a somewhat teasing tone. "Only using other people's moves? My, my, and I thought you were more original than that."

"I don't want to use it yet desu," Dan replied seriously. "I don't want to scare them away."

"Just do it, Dan-kun," Sengoku replied cheerfully. "A good scare every now and then will only do them good. This one should be good enough for it to work."

Dan raised his eyebrows. "Fine, Sengoku-buchou." With this, he switched the racquet into his left hand. The other club members eyed each other curiously. None of them seemed to know what was about to come – aside from the regulars, the majority of whom was grinning. They did know their Dan-kun well enough.

Dan looked at his opponent, his head cocked to the side. "Please have pity on me," he said with a sweet smile. Then, with no further ado, he served.

There was no peculiar form, no special twist, no surprising strikes. Just your usual, run-of-the-mill tennis serve, almost too easy to return as it headed right towards the opponent – or that was what it looked like. Dan's opponent obviously thought so, too, as he prepared to return the ball right away.

At the last moment, though, his racquet twitched to the side, letting the ball pass by untouched. He seemed even more shocked than the stunned audience.

"Oi, what are you doing?" shouted another second-year from the side of the court. "That was so easy you should be able to return it in your sleep!"

"I know!" replied the playing – and losing – boy. "It's just – my racquet just –"

"Wouldn't hit it?" Sengoku guessed cheerfully. "Surprise, surprise, except not." He grinned broadly. "Come on, Dan-kun. Do it again."

With another adorable smile, Dan dug a ball from his pocket. "Please have pity on me," he said. And served.

By the time the game was over, the opponent was yet to touch the ball even once.

"What is that serve?" gasped the humiliated boy. "It's impossible to return! Whenever I try to, my hand refuses to do so!"

"Not impossible, no," Sengoku said. "Just extremely difficult. I'm not sure if I would manage." He winked. "It takes a great deal of self-control to overcome your instincts, after all."

"Instincts?" echoed someone. "What do you mean, Sengoku-buchou?"

"I don't know the exact workings of it," Sengoku replied. "It's called the Puppy Dog Serve because returning it is described as hard as kicking a begging puppy. Basically, Dan-kun puts such a spin on the ball that it moves ideally along its chosen path. Those who have good tennis skills sometimes instinctively sense where they should hit the ball. However, the spin tricks the instincts into believing the ball should just go on. It's practically impossible to hit it back without a lot of will power." He glanced over at the small boy who was yet to break a sweat. "Isn't that it, Dan-kun?"

"Basically, yeah desu," Dan replied. "I've never managed to fully analyze it, really, not that I haven't tried desu. I just know it works desu."

"And as long as that is true, it's a great move regardless of how it works." Sengoku winked. "Especially since it doesn't have any restrictions, either."

"Well, it depends desu," Dan said cheerfully. "I can't do it right away, I have to get used to the current conditions, but other than that it's good for whenever." Turning towards his opponent, he gave the other boy a dazzling smile. "Shall we continue desu?"

Sengoku had to admire the second-year's stubbornness – or perhaps stupidity. Either way, the other indeed wanted to continue the match, which ended somewhat unsurprisingly in his utter defeat. Dan still wasn't breathing hard, eyeing the older boy carefully.

"Don't mind it, you were really good!" he said encouragingly, actually sounding like he meant it. "I'm sure next time you'll do a lot better desu!" Then, he turned to look at the rest of the team. "So, who wanted to go next desu?" he asked, smiling.

The previously so disgruntled second-years now eyed each other warily. The boy Dan had defeated was no master, but he was definitely not bad, either. To see him won so easily had made them somewhat wary. They probably wouldn't need much more pushing now…

Ah, well. Dan didn't need to make any enemies during his first day in the club. Time to interfere. "Oh, and one more thing," Sengoku said, walking to the little boy's side. "You know how Yamabuki Middle School made it to the Nationals finals last year?" Everyone nodded. They weren't quite that ignorant, after all. "Lucky! Now, Dan-kun here," Sengoku ruffled the blue hair, making Dan flush a bit, "was the captain that took them here. He only lost one match – and that was to Echizen Ryoma. You know, Japan's number one." He winked. "Anyone still want to challenge him?"

He was somewhat unsurprised as no one stepped forward.

"So, it's decided," Sengoku said cheerfully. "Dan-kun is going to be a regular from now on. I'll announce some time this week who's going to step down to make room for him. And no, Dan-kun, don't even think of protesting," he said. "You should know how teams work, you were a captain yourself. The best players are regulars, period." After another glance around to make sure no one was protesting, he then grinned some more. "Okay! Practice's over for today. Just prepare to work twice as hard tomorrow!"

The groans from the other boys went unheard as Sengoku concentrated on the voice right next to him. "You really shouldn't have said such things desu," Dan protested, a faint flush on his cheeks. "I'm not that great, we just had a good team last year desu."

"And modest, too," Sengoku chuckled. The other club members started to trickle towards the club house, but he was in no hurry for now. He'd have to stay last, anyway – he and Muromachi took turns locking up the club house, and today was his turn. "Look, Dan-kun, you are great. Not everyone is made the captain, after all. And not every captain manages to take their team to the Nationals, no matter how good the team."

"But I lost desu!" Dan insisted. "Against Ryoma-kun, too, even though I have the most data on him! And just when it counted, too."

"Yeah, sure," snorted Sengoku. "Because it's such a shame to lose to Japan's number one player in your age group in the Singles One match of the nationals finals. Clearly, being only the second best means you are absolutely pitiful."

"I'm not the second best," Dan said. "Not officially desu. I didn't participate in any tournaments but the school ones, either desu."

"Which only has the very best players. Stop thinking so lowly of yourself, Dan-kun. Even Akutsu lost to Echizen, and you know Akutsu's not a bad player, right?"

"Of course not!" Dan exclaimed, a whole new fire lighting up his eyes. "Akutsu-senpai is the best player ever! Nobody can be as good as him desu!"

"You see?" Sengoku grinned. "Losing to Echizen doesn't mean you can't be a great player. Now shut up and stop trying to make a liar out of your captain."

Dan sighed. "…Fine, Sengoku-buchou desu."

"Lucky, my kouhai's so obedient." Sengoku ruffled the blue hair again. "Now, be a great player for my team, okay? I'll be counting on you in the next tournament."

The flush intensified. "…I'll try my best desu."

"I know you will." And Sengoku did know. Looking after the retreating boy, he smiled happily. The team had indeed gained a strong addition.

Just as he was about to head towards the club room himself, Sengoku caught sight of movement in the corner of his eye. Spinning around, he saw no one. However, he was sure he had glimpsed something – something that looked very much like a grey-haired boy disappearing behind a corner.

A broad grin spread over his face. Apparently Dan was even more interesting than he thought.

With some luck, they might actually manage to tempt Akutsu openly onto the courts.