Author's Note: Scenes from the manga written from various Rikkai characters' perspectives. Because I can.

the boys of summer

genius 19 – Kirihara the opportunist winds up at Seigaku

Seigaku's practice is much more casual than Rikkai's; some people, probably non-regulars, are just standing around, watching—not doing push-ups or practice-swings or anything.

Yukimura would never stand for that.

(but Yukimura's gone, isn't he, he's sick, so sick that you can only whisper the word, sick, like it's dirty or offensive, or like maybe it'll go away if you never speak about it took loudly)

Akaya spots Tezuka immediately. He's sort of apart from the others, not so much physically as—Akaya's not really sure what the word would be, maybe mentally, but it's like he's not quite involved with the rest of the team, not quite one of them.

And Yukimura never really is either, but that's because he's—he's more, the way the sum can be more than the parts, the way he's above the rest of the team but always behind everything, always there.

(but Yukimura's gone, isn't he)

.

genius 143 – Rikkai shows up to watch the Atobe-Tezuka match

They get through the first tournament round fast. Akaya beats his own best time, sets the record once again, and he's pleased, proud, swaggering around until Niou tells him to cut it out, would you?

But Niou's stupid, so what does he know.

(except he's smart, too-smart, the kind of smart that's sharp and quick like a switch-blade, one he only unsheathes when he wants Akaya to feel like a dumb kid, bad with words and thus inferior, but Niou's stupid, so what does he know)

"Singles One should be starting now," says Yanagi mildly. "Atobe versus Tezuka." Sanada only grunts, so Yanagi goes on, in his quiet teasing way, "Should be interesting."

"Let's go watch," Akaya pipes in, because he's tired of going up against scrubs and losers, wants to see a couple guys that can actually play tennis, wants to see some guys good enough to crush.

It takes some cajoling, some whining, but maybe Sanada was going to say yes all along, because he wants to beat Tezuka too, doesn't he, and maybe that's why Akaya does, but that doesn't matter, because they end up heading over to watch, him and Sanada and Yanagi.

The whole team would have attracted a lot of attention, especially 'cause Marui's so loud, and so it's good that the others are more interested in going home early and finishing up their homework, but how can they do that when there's real tennis to watch?

Down on the court, that Atobe guy's strutting around, taking off his clothes and making people scream and chant and cheer, and how can Niou think Akaya's too arrogant?

"It's not even the Nationals, and this place is going crazy…!"

"Same old Atobe."

Akaya blinks, looks over. Sanada's not smiling, but he's not scowling, either, not even frowning. He seems resigned to the other boy's showiness, maybe even—maybe even kind of amused, and that's weird, so Akaya decides to forget about it.

That Tezuka's the opposite, all quiet and calm, his game understated and his movement deliberate, economical, not a bit more energy spent than is needed. And his Zone—okay, that's kind of impressive, and Akaya thinks maybe he wants his own Zone named after him, the Kirihara Zone, that would be cool.

But Tezuka's is too passive, too technical, not nearly as exciting as Akaya's would be. Still, it's interesting to watch, because at least it's something new.

Akaya likes things that are new, things that are shiny and fresh, perfect and whole. Those things are the most fun to break.

But it's Tezuka that breaks, isn't it, Tezuka that falls to his knees and clutches at his shoulder, all because that Atobe put his hand up to his face—as if that really helps him see any better—and picked up on the parts of Tezuka that would give way, like fault-lines, and Akaya thinks—

He wants to be able to do that. To cause that sort of earthquake, to take a strong player and crush them to dust beneath his heel.

Mid-terms are so stressful whatttttt.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Prince of Tennis.