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"Yo," I said, interrupting the vibrating from my vintage flip phone. My brother had begged me to get an iPhone before I left, but I had refused. I guess I was just an old school kind of person.

"Hey."

I recognized the voice instantly and frowned while standing on the tennis courts of Rikkaidai, sweating. "Isn't it like one in the morning over there?"

"Yeah, but I couldn't wait any longer to tell you the news."

That is odd; he's usually the patient one out of us two. My grandmother always poked my cheeks and told me to act more like my brother.

"What's up?" I could see the glares from the other tennis regulars as I talked in English for the first time in days.

"Jade. I'm going to be playing in the French Open."

I nearly drop my phone. "WHAT?" I can't help but explode as a bunch of curse words tumble out of my mouth in excitement. I look like an idiot, jumping up and down during a boy's tennis practice with English words pouring out my mouth. I couldn't care less because not only was practice almost over, but this was the first time I had heard from my brother in days.

"Yeah," he chuckles. "I'm going in a couple of weeks. I'm nervous though. I don't think you can miss school to come see but I'll call you every day and after every match. I promise."

I blink back tears, remembering how he had walked out of the tennis court during a tournament when he found out the news about my parents. He had not competed officially since then, just as I had not gone to a single swim meet. He took out all of his frustration during training and never let me see his upset face.

"I'll call you later because I'm in practice. I love you," I say, still shocked.

I throw the phone into my bag and sink to my knees.

"Are you ok, Klysen-senpai?" Kirihara shakes my shoulder.

I blink back tears that I had held in from worry over my brother from the last two months. One escapes the clutches of my lower eyelid and drips down my cheek and on to the hard court below.

"Oi, don't cry!" Niou exclaims, bending down next to me.

A grin slowly starts to unfurl across my face. "My brother, my brother is going to the French Open," I stammer in Japanese. "He's going to the French Open." I said the words repeatedly, not caring that I looked like a mental patient on my knees on the tennis court.

"What's the problem here?" Yukimura's voice cuts through sharply, annoyed with the interruption in practice.

"My brother is going to the French Open," I said beaming, even with Yukimura's mood. "He's going to the French Open."

Marui blinks, confused. "Then why are you crying?"

"I have no idea," I laugh and then murmur again. "He's going to the French Open."

"Twenty laps for disturbing practice," Sanada grunts.

I can't wipe the grin off my face as I jump up and jog around the tennis courts. My straining, sore legs seem to magically gain energy on the sticky Friday afternoon. Strands of my hair that had escaped from my ponytail whipped around my face and the sun beat down on my back. I must smell awful.

The last few days, I had fallen into the routine of swim practice, school, tennis practice, and then homework. The tedious schedule ate up my time. The little spare time I had, I thought of Portland and what had happened two months ago.

True to Marui's words, the regulars had slowly started opening up to me as I went to more tennis practices. Marui and Niou talked to me during class, Kirihara never failed to bring a smile to my face during practice, and Jackal and Yagyuu always asked how I was. I could even see less tension behind Yukimura's façade of a smile but Sanada still treated me like the enemy. I still couldn't figure out Yanagi, and frankly I am confused about how he never tripped over anything even though his eyes are always closed.

The loyal fangirls who watched the practice still squealed and fanned themselves every time regulars looked towards the fence they leaned against. I pretended that I couldn't hear the whispers of "dirty foreigner" and "slut" directed towards me.

I watch the last few minutes of practice as I pant, running around the fence encircling the tennis courts. Yukimura was practicing along with everyone else for once, and I could tell he was a bit slower than everyone else was. He stumbled slightly after hitting a ball during a drill and rubbed his lower back. When the regulars were sure that he was fine and turned away, he looked down at his hands. I narrowed my eyes while slowing my jogging and could see that his hands were shaking. Was this the true captain of Rikkaidai's national level tennis team?

I push open the door to the courts and stroll over to where Yukimura is standing, sipping from his water bottle.

"You know," I said quietly, "there's no shame in going to the doctor to check on the state of your muscles."

His face snaps towards me, the façade of his smile plastered on his face. His eyes narrowed, as if I was the reason for his angst. His smooth tone drops slightly to a growl, "What are you talking about?"

"Muscle weakness, numbness in hands and possibly feet, you're tired more easily, and back issues," I murmur. "Marui said you were sick last week too, and your body should have fully recovered by now."

He turns away, as if he was dismissing me.

I reach out and grab his arm and he keeps walking. "You can't feel my hand can you?" I question.

He looks down and brushes my hand off.

"Go to the doctor. No one will think you are weak," I urge softly.

His eyes soften and his usual guise takes over his face. "I am fine. Thank you for your concern."

I nod and turn away, giving up. If he did not want my advice, there was no point in giving it. I wish he would listen though, because I did not want him in the condition I was in. I was lucky enough to have a problem that didn't hold me back from swimming or school, but that did not mean that it was not a problem that doctors watched.

"Be at the tennis courts at the local park tomorrow by ten!" Sanada yells and claps. "Practice is over."

I pick up my bags and throw them over my shoulder, ignoring the looks I was getting from the club members and the fangirls because I talked to Yukimura. I rip out the elastic from my hair as I stomp away from the tennis courts, letting my natural half-wavy hair spill over my face.

I push my headphones into my ears and crank up the volume on my iPod classic to wash away some of the stress that the school week had built. My shoulders were incredibly sore and I bobbed my head to the upbeat music, stepping over the cracks in the sidewalk. The notes rushed by as song after song played into my ears as I walked away from the school and my flat.

I look up at the building in front of me, simply labeled as 'Swim Store,' in Japanese. I tug out my headphones, pushed open the door, and came face-to-face with bright colors and bikinis on models. I wrinkle my nose; why name it 'Swim Store' if you advertise bikinis and recreational swimming items? Strolling directly to the back, I looked around for a store attendant.

"Hi," I spoke in Japanese, "I am here to pick up the orders for Rikkaidai Middle School."

"Ah, yes. I have your packages right here," the middle-aged woman smiles. She hands me the bulky items in a huge paper bag filled with warm-up sweats, a swimsuit, a swim bag, and other swim paraphernalia.

I internally sigh at the bag, and hold out my only free hand as one was already securing my sports duffel and backpack on my back. I grasp the bag and walk right out of the store with a quick, "Thank you!"

The bulky, paper bag bounces against my leg as I stroll toward my flat and past the school again. Honestly, my future job should be being an ox or a horse. With all the stuff I was carrying, I must be a perfect fit for their jobs.

"Klysen!"

The call of my name interrupts my silent cursing of my bags and I willed myself for the scratch on my nose to go away, as I did not want to put the bag in my hand down.

I turn and see Kirihara, Marui, Jackal, and Niou strolling towards me, three of them with wet hair. They must have showered after practice.

"Hi," I smile.

They wave back and Marui swipes the bulky paper bag from my hand.

"What's this?" he questioned and blew a gum bubble.

"Feminine stuff," I lie with a grin.

He throws it back towards me, disgusted and disturbed. I laugh at his reaction.

"I was joking," I chuckle. "It's swimming stuff."

"Keep the bag away from Niou," Jackal warns. "Unless if you want to find spiders or worms in it. Maybe even a rubber snake."

I roll my eyes. "Lame. Can't come up with better pranks, can you Niou?"

He lifts his right eyebrow, amused. "Is that a challenge?"

"No, I'm fine," I reply hastily, remembering how he managed to get the teacher to sit on a thumbtack on the first day of school.

Niou smirks, "Piyo."

"Klysen-senpai, are you coming to the tournament tomorrow?" Kirihara asks, turning his emerald eyes towards me.

"If you want me to, I can. The swim coach gave me the day off tomorrow to rest my shoulders," I reply. He probably actually gave me the day off because of the difficult practices that he'd been giving me. He was targeting all of my weakest areas to make me a more well-rounded swimmer, saying that working my weaknesses would make my stronger strokes faster too.

"You should," Kirihara grinned. "You'll see how awesome I am."

We all roll our eyes at his boasting.

"Anyways," Jackal interrupts. "We have to go. We have a meeting at my place because Marui volunteered my house. Sorry Klysen."

I wave and the boys follow the bald Brazilian.

The three bags I am carrying continue to pull on my shoulders as I walk to my flat and my stomach grumbles from lack of food.

The worst part of being a swimmer is the amount we eat. During rigorous training, I turn into a bottomless pit and devour anything and everything, regardless of the taste. During lunches in school, I had to eat twice of what the normal girl did, so I could survive through the end of tennis practice. Most girls would be revolted at the amount I eat. Lucky for me, Azuri thought this was hilarious and sometimes teased me about how I ate more than guys.

Too bad I had to make my own lunch in the morning. What is worse is the fact that I can't eat before swim practice, otherwise I feel like throwing up. In the last couple of days, I learned to stuff a cup of yogurt and apple slices down my throat while running to class after showering.

I sigh and grab my keys and stab the lock. It clicks and the door swings open. I slam the door shut, dump the bags on the ground, kick off my shoes, and leap on to the couch, letting its plush texture surround me. I had not realized how tired I was until the luxurious couch lulled me to sleep within seconds. The last thing on my mind was about how hungry I was.

Her brother is going to the French Open and she was crying? That's incredible but I really don't understand females. She must have been crying in the same way we burst into tears after our second win at nationals last year. Sanada had yelled at us to stop the tears from running down our faces, but I swear I saw his eyes glassy from tears as well.

I let the water rain down upon me as the shower cleared my head. I was exhausted but ready for the match tomorrow. It should be an easy match, given that they were the district preliminaries; Rikkaidai is ranked first after all.

Wrapping a towel around me, I pull clothes on and listen to the chatter of Jackal, Niou, and Kirihara.

"Marui? Why have you been so quiet lately?" Niou quips with a smirk. "Thinking about a certain girl?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm thinking about the cakes I need to pick up for tomorrow's matches. I hope they put enough caramel in the filling."

"Sure," Niou grins.

A quiet, "Fifty-two percent chance that he's telling the truth," cuts through the conversation.

I wanted to groan at the low number. The team turns and looks at Yanagi.

He shrugs. "Marui has been more reserved lately. I can't really read him that well right now."

"Just be ready for the game tomorrow," Sanada says, brows furrowed.

I nod and ruffle my wet hair. Popping a piece of gum into my mouth, I let my tongue soak in the apple flavor.

"So, are we meeting up for the team tradition tonight?" Yukimura asks, his voice as smooth as ever.

The team choruses with "Sure," and "I'm pretty sure we're all free," and "Hn."

"Where?" Yukimura questions.

"Jackal's place," I reply.

Jackal blinks. "What? Why my place?"

"Why? Do you not want to?" I ask, with my eyes wide open, puzzled.

"Fine," he grumps, grinding his teeth.

"Is Klysen-senpai coming?" Kirihara questions.

"She's not on the team," Yukimura reminds him.

"It's alright, you and Marui can sulk together at Jackal's," Niou says, patting Kirihara's shoulder.

My eyes narrow. "Why would I sulk?"

Kirihara tugs at my arm. "Let's go to Jackal's right now. I'm hungry."

"I'm right here you know," Jackal throws his hands up, exasperated.

Kirihara, Niou, Jackal, and I end up leaving early to go eat at Jackal's house. We file out of the locker room and march towards the gate of the school. Kirihara's stomach is growling, Niou is laughing at Kirihara's expense, and Jackal is thinking, just like usual.

"Klysen!" Niou yells and my head snaps up.

Her auburn hair is messily flying in the light breeze and she smiles, "Hi."

I wave, looking at her big blue eyes, and grab the big paper bag she was holding. "What's in this?" I grin, opening it up.

"Feminine stuff."

Her answer jolts through my head and I throw the bag at her in response, disgusted.

"I was joking," she laughs. "It's swimming stuff."

Jackal warns her to keep her belongings away from Niou and she laughs at Niou's pranks. I knew that Jackal was right because I remembered when Niou mashed up my cakes and stole my gum right before a match last year. He also scared away all my fangirls that had tried offering me their cakes as compensation. If the match hadn't been a quick one, I would have been in serious trouble.

"Klysen-senpai, are you coming to the tournament tomorrow?" Kirihara's question interrupts my thoughts.

"If you want me to, I can. The swim coach gave me the day off tomorrow to rest my shoulders," she replies.

"You should," Kirihara grins. "You'll see how awesome I am."

I roll my eyes at the arrogant second-year.

"Anyways," Jackal interrupts. "We have to go. We have a meeting at my place because Marui volunteered my house. Sorry Klysen."

She attempts to wave while holding her bags; with a smile, she continues walking towards her flat, auburn hair whipping around her shoulders.

Niou pokes my arm and waggles his eyebrows at me. I shake my head at him, knowing what he's implying.

I look up towards the sky, looking forward to the team tradition of hanging out the night before districts preliminaries.

My vibrating phone broke my deep slumber and I groaned, rubbing my eyes blearily. Stretching my sore muscles, I padded over to my backpack and fished out my phone that buzzed angrily in my hand.

"Hello?" I yawned.

"Hey, open your door."

Puzzled, I unlatch the door and let it swing open.

"Hi," Keigo grins at me and said in German. "I was in the area and thought I would stop by. You look awful."

I smile back and reply in German as well. "You interrupted my beauty sleep. Come in."

He lifts the boxes in his hand while walking over the threshold. "I brought food."

"Oh thank you," I moan and throw my phone at my bag. "I am starving and too lazy to cook right now."

I shut the door and looks around the flat. "Really? Modern furnishing?" he wrinkles his nose and sets the food down on the small dining table.

"Sorry, I'm not a Victorian era person like you," I retort back. "My brother got an invitation to the French Open."

Keigo's head snaps up. "Really? That's amazing!"

"Yeah," I beam. We tear into the Italian food that he brought and I chew leisurely, savoring the flavor. "Wow, I didn't think I'd miss pasta so much."

"You could always hire a chef like me," he replies.

I shrug. "I don't like personal chefs. Mom and Grandmother always cooked even though they never had to. They could have hired a chef at any time."

The simple fettuccine alfredo slowly fills my stomach as Keigo grins. "Remember when we had that eating contest?"

I laugh. "I slaughtered you. I ate almost twice as much as you did."

He frowns. "I was nine."

"Are you saying that you could do better now?"

He shakes his head. "No way. You could probably still crush me."

"Good to know that you understand that," I smile at the egotistical boy who only dropped his façade of arrogance for me.

"So, what's up?" he swallows and waves his fork around.

"Nothing much. I was made captain of the swim team but I'm the only swimmer at Rikkaidai, so that doesn't really mean much."

"That's still good," he protests. "It just means that no one else is in your way."

"It also means that I have no power," I roll my eyes. "Not that I really care. No one takes swimming seriously at Rikkaidai. I have a meet next weekend though; it's districts: preliminaries on Friday and finals on Saturday. You coming?"

He pauses with his fork between his teeth and gulps his food down. "Duh, I like seeing you swim. Text me the details later."

I nod at his satisfactory answer, "I hope I'm fast enough."

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "You go to meets with the pros in the US, and are the top ranked junior swimmer on the circuit. You'll be fast enough," he assures.

He checks his watch. "Oh darn, I'm running late. I have a tournament tomorrow." He brushes off his pants, pushes away his finished plate of food, and stands up.

"Can't you stay longer?" I pout.

"Sorry. I really can't," he says, apologetic, and then smirks. "Besides, you smell."

I glare at him. "I came from tennis practice as my cross-training and fell asleep. I think I know I smell, thank you very much."

He slides his feet into his shoes, opens the door, and waves, still grinning.

I copy the motion, hip leaning against the door frame and arms folded across my chest. He slips into his Buggati and lets the chauffeur drive him off.

I shake my head, still smiling and lock the door. "That royal airhead."

I sniff at my shirt and frown. Man, I really stink. I throw the now-empty disposable containers of food into the trashcan and walk into the flat's main hallway.

I turn to the bathroom and strip, letting the warm water wash away the sweat and dirt from tennis practice. The steam swirls around me for what seems like hours, as I scrub away, determined to take off some of the chlorine scent that seemed to be my permanent perfume. I eventually give up. Turning off the water, I pull on a bathrobe and pad out of the bathroom, looking for the comfort of my bed. Burrowing myself into the covers, I let sleep take over my brain again and dream of Italian food.

All the reviews that asked me to update just got me to update faster! Thanks everyone :)

Please read, review, and favorite! All suggestions for the future plot are welcome!

Over the next few chapters, the main character is going to try to build a relationship with the tennis team, because so far, all they do is acknowledge her existence.

Any guesses about her medical problem?