The title of this chapter means "Everyone's unique problems", but that just totally sounds off in English, and I couldn't really find a suitable phrase... The Japanese one sounds much better.

Just a reminder, that I'm following the manga TeniPuri storyline and characters, so too bad, Josei Shonan's characters and Ryoga and all won't appear. As much as I like Kishimoto and Wakato, the manga storyline is much easier to follow. But I may use tennis moves from the anime, just in case my ideas run blank.

Hope everyone likes Hyotei in this chapter. I love Atobe~~~

Chapter 10 – Sorezore no Nayami

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The repetitive sound of a tennis ball bouncing against the floor and hitting the racket resounded through the empty public tennis court. It was getting dark, and no one was interested to play at such a time, except the pair standing in the last rays of illumination from the sun.

The rally had been going on for a full ten minutes, and the match for almost an hour, but only one game had been played. Finally, with a soft hiss, the ball lightly dropped over the net and skidded backwards as full pulled by a miraculous force.

“15 – 0, you could have earned this point way faster if you’d use your zero drop shot from the start.” Fuji said from across the court, picked up the ball and walked over to the bench even though the set is not even finished.

“Fuji?” Tezuka asked, puzzled, since his opponent seemed to have no intention of playing any further. Then after a pause, walked over to the bench where Fuji sat.

“Why aren’t you using your full force against me?” Fuji said, a question he’d always ask after each secret practice with Tezuka, but he’d never received an answer. And he was getting a little frustrated. He knew, and felt honoured and special that only he knew, that Tezuka couldn’t initiate his Selfless State anymore, and he used to believe that maybe with a little more challenge, the competitive spirit in Tezuka would reawaken by itself. But it looked like that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

“I don’t know.” Came the same reply as always.

Fuji sighed. “There’s no point in being subtle anymore. I really want to help you recover, but I don’t even know what is the reason causing this barrier in your mind. And we are running out of time. Do you think you are in a position to match up against Hyotei now?”

Tezuka thought for a moment, and shook his head. “It takes more than the Tezuka Zone and zero drop shot to deal with Atobe. And I’m referring to the Atobe I know three years ago.”

“Because while he was improving, you were unable to break through, and instead, fell backwards, right?” Fuji smiled, his blue eyes peering through like sharp razor blades. Tezuka jolted, as if someone just stabbed him with a needle.

“I’m not trying to aggravate you, it’s just that I’ve been practicing with you for quite a while, and nothing is working. Exactly what happened in Germany? Lack of competition? It’s quite disheartening to realize that I’m not enough of a challenge to you, Tezuka.”

“It’s not that!” The captain cut in sharply, angry that Fuji could devalue himself like that. “You are one of the best players I know of.”

“Then what is it?” Fuji demanded. “The team may be strong enough to win the matches without getting to singles one so far, but you can’t evade from it forever.” He turned to Tezuka, and gently cupped the captain’s face so that his gaze wouldn’t waver and look away. “Just tell me, anything you know, and we’ll find a way out of this definitely.”

Tezuka took down both of Fuji’s hands, and kept holding them within his own. “You know, to everyone, I may seem like a really stoic person, whose personality doesn’t even bend, hard as a rock. But I’m not as tough as I seem. When my arm was in rehabilitation during the third year of junior high, I couldn’t lift my arm above my shoulder. At first it was because of the injury, but I still couldn’t lift it up even after rehabilitation was over, simply because the memory of the pain when my arm broke down during the match with Atobe persisted, the fear building up a psychological barrier in my subconscious. Luckily I was able to break through it just before the nationals. I’m afraid it’s the same situation this time, but I don’t even know

“You know, it’s not because you are weak that you have a mental barrier.” Fuji chided, patting Tezuka’s hand as if comforting a small child. “Building subconscious mental blocks are just a natural way of self defence, as somewhere in your heart, you have something of such importance that you are striving to protect even when your mind has yet to realize its true value. You wanted your arm to heal in time to join us for the nationals, but with the way you always push yourself, you’ll definitely come back to us even before full recuperation. It may seem that you are pushing yourself for Seigaku, but that’s just your selfish opinion. Have you ever thought about us, and that would we be happy if you sacrifice your whole future career for us? And I’m glad that at least your natural instincts were sensible enough consider our feelings, and stop you from hurting yourself, for our sake.”

Tezuka frowned. “You’re running in circles that I don’t understand.”

Fuji chuckled, his eyes starting to twinkle with excited sparks. “Then let me use an easier example. You remember that in junior high, I had a match with you in first year, made you promise that you’ll battle me again after your arm heals, but never had the intention to challenge you again after your recovery?”

“You were so full of confidence in your skills, that you never played seriously until it came to the nationals.” Tezuka smiled wistfully, rememorizing. “I waited for your challenge, but it seemed that you’ve lost all of your persistence with winning, and wasn’t interested in knowing who’s the stronger one among us.”

“You know why I lost interest in winning?” Fuji asked, and Tezuka shook his head.

“It’s because I was afraid.” The shorter boy smiled, the sparkle in his eyes heating up, not solely from excitement anymore. Tezuka could feel Fuji’s breathing starting to shake, his exhalations wavering, sending uneven puffs of air onto his chest. “I was unconsciously afraid of the outcome if we had a match. How would your position of a captain stand if I win? Would you feel uneasy beside me? But if I lose, how much value would a defeated opponent still have in your mind?”

“You’re worrying over nonsense.” Tezuka wrapped his arm around Fuji’s shivering form, the role of the comforter and the one being comforted taking on a sudden reversal.

“It’s not nonsense!” Fuji rebuked, his hand clutching onto Tezuka’s shirt tightly. “I didn’t realize it then, but that was my barrier, trying to protect myself from getting hurt by escaping from the faceoff. Either way, the outcome of our match would affect our relationship for the worse, and I couldn’t bring myself to do that. It would be too hard to go on, knowing that I’ve lost any chance of gaining your affection.”

Tezuka continued stroking mechanically down Fuji’s back, his mind in temporary information overload and unable to wrap around what Fuji just said.

The shorter boy laughed, the dumbstruck expression on Tezuka was priceless. “Tezuka you rockhead. I just confessed to you, if you didn’t notice.”

Tezuka coughed, twice. “Y… Yeah…” He stammered, detaching his hand immediately from Fuji, and continued to sit straight and hard like a rock. Except for the fact that rocks don’t turn red.

Fuji’s face bloomed into a full-hearted smile, and reached out to tangle both hands into Tezuka’s hair. “Should I take that as your acceptance of my love?” He said in an exaggerated tone, and hopped in front of Tezuka to completely block his line of vision. “Deal?” And quickly planted a kiss on the captain’s lips. They were softer than Fuji had expected.

Tezuka finally turned to look straight into Fuji’s eyes, the stoic expression slowly loosening into a somewhat exasperated smile. “You really know how to mess me up, Fuji Shuusuke.” And reached out a hand and pressed the shorter boy back closer, until their foreheads touched. A grain of satisfaction shone behind Tezuka’s eyes to see Fuji’s rare look of surprise, and then captured Fuji’s lips in a much longer and deeper kiss that sent the poor victim totally sagging into the bench.

When Tezuka finally let go, Fuji took a while to get back his breathing and let his cheeks cool down until they didn’t resemble tomatoes anymore, then burst out laughing. “You are more of a swindler than Niou of Rikkai Dai, buchou.”

“I can’t always let you be on the offensive and lead the pace of the game.” Tezuka replied as if discussing a tennis match.

“Hm… So you do know how to joke.” Fuji teased, earning himself a soft glare. “But, joking aside and back to the topic, if you got my previous point, can you try to analyze what’s the root of your mental barrier right now?”

Heaving a sigh, Tezuka looked into Fuji’s soothing blue eyes and nodded. “I guess I couldn’t initiate the Selfless State because I lost my will to win back in Germany. I know my goal is to become a professional tennis player, but that wasn’t enough to motivate me. Every new opponent I met, I would compare them to Seigaku’s rivals, and none of them would seem challenging anymore. Once I lost the spirit to beat them, because they just seemed too easy, I grew to not mind losing just so that I could get out of the match faster. That doesn’t even sound like me, does it?”

“Well, I only know the Tezuka who’s with us, as the captain of Seigaku. So you missed us?”

“Of course.” Tezuka answered frankly, “Thinking about you guys, and that I can lead Seigaku to the nationals again, were the only aspirations left. That’s why the coach told me to come back early. I would have had no improvements in Germany anyway.”

Fuji thought for a moment, and as the lights around the court lighted up, his enigmatic smile reappeared. “Tezuka, you are our pillar, but even the strongest pillar would lose any meaning if there’s no roof for it to support. Your sense of responsibility and the identity as Seigaku’s captain were too strong, that you couldn’t live out of them after you’ve left us. I’m not sure to be happy that we mean this much to you, or disheartened that we are actually the reason blocking your growth.”

Tezuka observed Fuji’s smiley face, and this one, unlike his other masks, had a peculiar but attractive aura. “You seem happy enough to me.”

“You saw right through me.” Fuji chuckled, a sly glint in his eyes, the one mischievous little devils wear. “Since you are gullible to come back, I won’t let you get away again. I’m not even going to let you consider transitioning into a new identity independent of us. You’ll have to be Seigaku’s captain, as well as my boyfriend, for good.”

“Your threats aren’t very scary, you know? Even Atobe can manage better.” Tezuka raised an eyebrow, and Fuji laughed, so hard that he fell into a pile into Tezuka’s lap.

“Yes, sir. We’ll get to practicing immediately. We can’t have Hyotei overtaking us, can we?”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The sound of tennis balls hitting the ground restarted.

………………………………………

With the district final against Seigaku just around the corner, the Hyotei tennis club members were less than focused to say the least. In particular, the third years. For one, Jirou wasn’t sleeping but staring into space on the bleachers; Shishido had managed to step on Ootori’s foot three times while practicing pile mirage; Mukahi had jumped up and crash landed into the net; Oshitari’s hits always landed out of bounds, and Atobe hadn’t called himself ore-sama for the whole day. Hyotei’s coach, Sakaki was overseeing all this with one eye closed, or else the Hyotei regulars would have been totally renewed within a day.

This eerie gloomy atmosphere spread throughout the courts, and soon, Ootori couldn’t take it anymore and called for a break.

“Shishido-san, is everything all right?” He asked cautiously, trying to wrap a caring arm around Shishido’s shoulders, but was pushed away, and the senior stomped off over to the water fountain.

“What is it with all the sempai today?” Ootori snatched hold of Hiyoshi, the only normal looking one strutting around with his weird sense of arrogance.

Hiyoshi looked at him as if he’d been living on another planet. “You really are slow. Don’t you know, the third years just got their post high school graduate designation forms yesterday.”

“Post high school graduate designation form?” Ootori repeated to let the phrase sink in. “But there’s still lots of time before graduation, and aren’t we all going to Hyotei University anyway?”

“Says who?” Hiyoshi hissed, “You should know how many rich kids are in Hyotei, and what do parents with an over abundance of money want to do? Buy a position into those American prestigious colleges if possible. Furthermore, it’s not only about the university. What faculty do you want to go into, what future career do you want to pursue, they have to have an idea in order to fill in those forms.”

“It seems really important, but what could be even bigger than an upcoming match against Seigaku right now?” Ootori still couldn’t grasp the concept.

Hiyoshi looked at him sympathetically, “For example, deciding if you’re still going to play tennis after high school.”

“W…What?! But isn’t everyone in the regulars going to become professional tennis players?” Ootori gaped, the image of his teammates doing anything other than tennis was unrealistic.

“You’d better not come to conclusions so naively. Of all the good amateur players in the world, how many are making it into the professional league? Think about what you have to give up to achieve that. Third year of high school is nothing like junior high. This may really become the last year of seriously playing tennis for many of our sempai.”

“I… I’m sure Shishido-san isn’t one to give up tennis!” Ootori tried to defend his doubles partner, and convince himself that Shishido wasn’t one to just throw away his passion for tennis. “In fact, I’ll go confirm with him right now!”

Hiyoshi snickered, “You are so simple-minded. Go ahead, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Eager to get away from the frightening prospects Hiyoshi’s was presenting, Ootori hurried away in search of Shishido. But his sempai was no longer by the water fountain, or anywhere near the tennis courts. He tore through the school building hallways to no avail, and finally decided to try the garden, when his ears caught two familiar voices coming from a bench in a secluded area of the school’s backyard.

“So, what prospect did you put down on the form? Some professional tennis training club off in Europe?” The rich Kansai accent was unmistakably coming from Oshitari.

The one being questioned didn’t bother answering, “What about you? I didn’t expect your family to have stayed in Tokyo for so long, counting the number of times you moved before coming here.” It was Atobe, with his silky voice.

“Well, I took a liking to Hyotei, its reputable tennis club, and a certain captain who announced that he was going to be the king of Hyotei on the first day of his first year.” Ootori was sure Oshitari was flirting, but why he was doing it to their captain was beyond the second year. There was a fluttering sound of paper being exchanged, and Oshitari raised an eyebrow.

“Harvard? It certainly suits you, but I didn’t know they train professional tennis players.”

“Neither do I.” Atobe replied with a wry smile. “I see that you’re aiming for medical school? That’ll take quite some preparation.”

Oshitari sighed exaggeratedly and used the chance to swing an arm over Atobe’s back. “What else can I choose when my father’s the head surgeon of a huge hospital, and my mother a family doctor? Help me find a way out of this, Atobe-buchou. I want to go on playing tennis with you forever.” Oshitari dropped his head onto Atobe’s shoulder, feigning helplessness.

Atobe slanted a glance at him, and swatted the hand that was moving to sensitive areas away. “As the captain, I need to know if you will still have the time to practice and make it to the nationals with us this year. I won’t push you to make time for tennis, but I suggest you drop from the regulars as soon as you finalize your decision on pursuing med school.”

“Nah, don’t be so cold.” Oshitari continued trying, but Ootori had already run away from the scene.

He hadn’t want to know, that their captain, one of the strongest tennis player in the Japan high school level, wasn’t planning to pursue tennis, nor that Oshitari might even give up his hard-kept position on the regulars if he starts preparing for the entrance exams. If the two members with most prominent chances of success at making the professional leagues were not even going to try, then what did that leave the rest of the team?

Ootori stopped running, no longer eager to find Shishido, maybe even afraid to know what his favourate sempai was filling in on the dreaded form. But things always come when you least want it to, and as Ootori slowly walked back to his club room locker, Shishido was sitting there right by the locker.

“Ah… Shishido-san, I was looking for you.” Ootori started, but didn’t even get a single recognition from Shishido. Hesitantly, he walked forward, until he saw a crunched up paper ball beside Shishido’s feet. Picking it up and spreading it out, a blank post-graduate proposal form unfolded.

“This…?” Only one word came out, hanging in the air, as Ootori didn’t even know what he was going to ask himself.

Shishido grunted, mumbling in an annoyed voice. “Can’t you see for yourself? Are you also here to tell me what you’re expecting me to put on there? Like, a professional tennis player?” He stifled a bitter laugh, “Don’t you think that would be dreaming too big? I’m a high school senior already, isn’t it time to wake up from dreams? I am good in tennis, but good enough to make it pro? Don’t think so.”

“What are you talking about, Shishido-san?!” Ootori shouted, seeing the way his sempai was abusing himself was heart-wrenching.

“That’s what they’re all saying, isn’t it?” Shishido yelled back, jumping up and pulling Ootori by the collar, “The teachers, classmates, neighbours, your parents, aren’t that what they are all thinking behind your back? Well, excluding parents. They just say it straight to your face, that you’re just a normal boy, nothing exceptional, so why risk your whole life on something so fickle like pro sports? It won’t last you forever anyway. Doctor, lawyer or businessman, those are the realistic paths of life, aren’t they?”

“S… Shishido-san…” Ootori stammered, completely lost. Shishido glared into his defenceless face, until the anger finally seemed to die down.

“Sorry, Choutarou. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.” Taking back the crumpled piece of paper in Ootori’s shaking hands, Shishido patted his partner’s shoulder. “It’s great, that you won’t have to go through this in another year. Anyway, let’s just work on how to beat Seigaku next week first, ok?”

“Y… Yeah.” Ootori gave a feeble smile, but Shishido had already walked out of the club room, expressions blank.