You know Atobe is rich, but as his driver pulls into a literal mansion the size of a castle, you start to feel the panic bubble up a little bit. The limo stops right at the stairs leading to the front door, and the driver exits to open the door and help you out as well.
"Thank you," you tell him, a little breathless.
"My pleasure," the driver smiles as the doors open.
On the other side, a line of butlers and maids greet you. You're a little overwhelmed when they bow at the same time and greet you by name. Luckily, Atobe is also already there as well.
"I'll take it from here," he dismisses the staff, who bow again and nod before they exit. Your eyes are still wide as you take in the surrounding house around you. You're sure the decorations – the chandeliers, the paintings, even the vase casually sitting in the middle of the grand foyer – were more expensive than your entire family home. "Like what you see?" Atobe smirks.
You shake your head and tighten your grip on your tennis bag. You came here for one thing. "Show me your tennis courts."
Atobe's smirk quirks up on one side but he obliges. He leads you around the house and through a short hallway. The double doors at the end open outward to a massive outdoor tennis court. You gasp as you take in the area. There is a separate clubhouse in the back and bright sports lighting that make it possible to play at any time of the day – even though the sky was already darkening in the early evening.
"Oh, you should see the clubhouse," Atobe smirks at your dropped jaw. He leads you around the side and opens the door. There are private changing rooms on the inside, which was a moot point given you had shown up in your casual sports gear. You gently set your bag down on a nearby bench as you try to take in the rooms.
It isn't until Atobe reaches over to the side that you see his own tennis racket and bag that you're reminded what you're here for. You glance down at your tennis bag and feel the nerves start to kick in. You unzip your bag and your hand hesitates before you're able to grab your racket.
"Arn?" you see Atobe approaching you with a raised eyebrow. He looks at you for one moment, then glances at your bag. He grabs your first racket and inspects it carefully. "You clearly haven't used this in a while – the strings need to be restrung. Use one of mine."
Your wide eyes follow him as he drops your racket back into your bag and leads you to the side, where a giant wall of top-line rackets are lined up, each neatly hung individually. You watch him reach for one off the side and inspect it briefly before holding it out to you.
"Try this one," he looks at you expectantly, and it feels so casual.
You swallow but your hand reaches out slowly and grasps the fresh tennis tape. To your surprise, you don't feel the overwhelming fear or panic take over. Atobe looks satisfied as you twirl the racket in your hand experimentally. You look back at him – and you're sure your anxiety is so obvious – but he simply turns around to face the door that leads back to the courts.
"Now, time to pay back that game you promised me," he declares, and exits without a second glance back.
Your heart is pounding when you approach the service line across from Atobe. He is watching you carefully, and you know he can see your anxiety as clear as day, but he just tilts his head, as if asking if you'd like to continue. You swallow and your hand tightens on the tennis ball you're holding. You nod.
His posture relaxes and he bends his knees, getting ready for your service. You take a deep breath and throw the ball into the air. Your racket hits with a dull thunk – it doesn't feel perfect – and the ball goes straight into the net.
Atobe staightens and smirks. "A little rusty?" he teases.
Your eyes narrow at him. You do not appreciate his amusement. You reach for your second tennis ball and, this time, you serve it perfectly. It flies to his side of the net. He easily returns it as you run up to the net. You feel all your sense heighten – the ball becomes crystal clear and slows as it approaches you. You feel your feet and arms move automatically to return the shot. Atobe returns the shot again and this time your vision focuses.
You can see his weak spots on the court.
You narrow your eyes and slice the ball over the net for a quick drop shot. It misses its mark slightly – you haven't played tennis in almost a year after all – and Atobe is able to get there on time to drop the shot back into your court. You focus again and this time slice it across the court. It lands dead where you planned and continues past Atobe to hit the fence behind him.
Both of you stop – you realize you're a little out of breath – for a second after that first point. You walk back to the service line. This time, with your insight honed in, you can see where you need to hit the ball for your service ace.
"Wait."
You freeze, tennis ball still in your hand. You turn to Atobe to see him frowning.
"Turn it off," he commands.
You narrow your eyes in confusion at him.
"I said, turn it off – your insight," he is still frowning as he watches you carefully. "You said you played for the joy of tennis, right?" he raises an eyebrow. "Then just play. Not to beat me – but for you."
You freeze and your insight immediately dissipates. Now, it is just you and the large expanse of tennis court in front of you. Your heart is still pounding – but this time, with adrenaline and excitement instead of fear.
You grin. "I don't need my insight to beat you, Atobe," you shout as you line back up for service.
Atobe gives a loud laugh but lines up anyways to receive your shot without another word.
You don't know how long you end up staying on the court with Atobe. What you do know, however, is that you're desperately out of shape. After a few rallies, it is obvious that you're getting tired.
"I think that's enough for one day," Atobe announces and reaches down to gather some tennis balls near him. It strikes you as odd that of all his waitstaff, he doesn't have a ball crew.
You are still busy catching your breath but manage to nod. The court becomes a little less focused as the adrenaline fades. You take a deep breath and straighten up to help gather the extra tennis balls on your side of the court.
"Your ankle?" Atobe asks as he watches you move around the court.
Without your hyperfocus with the insight, you realize you can also pay a lot more attention to your body when your play. Your ankle feels fine – and you realize Atobe has been deliberately hitting shots that don't require you to place additional strain on your foot during the game.
"It's fine," you tell him. "Thank you," you tell him sincerely, trying to convey that it wasn't for his question, but for all this.
He hums nonchalantly as he gathers a few more tennis balls closer to the net. You approach the net to get closer to him.
"I'm serious," you tell him, and he looks up at you as you step closer until it is just the net across from the two of you. "I…I'm not sure I could have done this without you."
He stops to stare at you across the net carefully. For a second, his eyes soften and you think he's going to say something nice or sincere. Instead, a smirk settles on his face. "Not bad for a second date," he flips his hair.
Now that he has successfully ruined the moment, you roll your eyes and turn back around to gather the extra tennis balls around the court.
Atobe does offer to let you to use his tennis courts whenever you would like. Now that you're hooked back on the adrenaline of playing tennis after almost a year of hiatus, that means you do end up coming over almost every day that next week. He even lets you keep the racket you borrowed from him, which you balk over – that racket must have cost hundreds – but he waves off your protest.
You give Tezuka and Oishi an apologetic look for the third time that week. "Sorry – I know I haven't been around for practice much this week. I'll be there tomorrow though, I promise."
Oishi shakes his head kindly. "No, don't worry about it – we understand you're busy."
Tezuka nods slowly, but you can tell he's slightly curious. Unfortunately, you're not quite ready to talk about it yet.
"Tomorrow – I promise!" you give each of them a pointed look before you fly out of the classroom.
Oishi gives Tezuka a slightly puzzled look after you leave. "Do you know where she's going in a such a rush these days?"
Tezuka shakes his head as he turns back to Oishi. He thinks about asking you, but the two of you had barely had a chance to talk after the locker room incident, especially with Hyotei coming up in the Regional tournament. He does notice something different about you, though.
"Well," Oishi clears his throat. "I guess we should focus on trying some doubles pairs tomorrow."
Tezuka turns his attention back to Oishi and the two of them get ready to head to practice.