Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[Sunday, Hyotei Academy tennis courts]

Yamazaki is sitting on the benches by herself, glaring daggers at the arrogant bastard flaunting himself on the court known as Atobe Keigo, silently cursing him for waking her so early on a weekend.

“Be awed by my success!” He demands, scoring a point against poor Hiyoshi in a practice tennis match. How the hell is he so energetic this early?

The man’s acting as if he forgot that he mistook today as a school day so he went to school by himself, only to realize today is the weekend. Then he decided to play it cool and save his embarrassment by suddenly calling in the rest of the team to gather up for practice before heading to the U-17 camp as an excuse.

Yamazaki’s gotta give it to him though. That was a damn good excuse.

“Oi Atobe,” Yamazaki glares at him who just sat next to her on the bench to take a swig of water after his match.

“Why’d you have to drag my ass here too? S’not like I’m coming with you guys to the camp. Not to mention it’s way too early right now.” She huffs grumpily, sinking on the bench. She could’ve gotten more hours of sleep if it weren’t for Atobe’s tyrannical ass.

“Ahn? Who says that you’re not coming with us?” Atobe raises a brow at her after telling Kabaji to get him a towel.

“Wha- I’m coming too??” Yamazaki sits up and points to herself in confusion.

“Mm.” He hums casually, wiping his face with the towel.

“But why? They’re only inviting tennis players, aren't they? What’s a manager like me gonna do there?” She asks, secretly hoping she would stay back.

If she came with them, not only would she have to sleep in the same building as the Hyotei regulars for a couple of weeks, but regulars from other schools too? There’s going to be more than a hundred players in that camp—and they’re all men.

That’s too much testosterone for her liking.

Not to mention how rowdy everyone else will be, especially Kirihara from Rikkai and Toyama from Shitenhouji. Chills run down her spine at the terrifying thought of having to deal with them. She’s already having grey hairs babysitting her own team.

“The U-17 team’s looking for managers, and who else could have that position but you?” Atobe points to her with a smirk. 

Yamazaki knows that she should feel flattered by Atobe having faith in her, but her mind wins over her heart.

“Absolutely not.” She deadpans.

“Absolutely yes.” Atobe rebuts.

“…”

“…”

Yamazaki makes a run for it. 

“Oi! Get back here!” Atobe yells. “Tch! All of you, catch her!” he calls out to the regulars at the courts. Yamazaki shrieks as she sees them abandon their tennis rackets and bolt towards her in a wild chase. Who knew it would be so terrifying having ten men running after you? She’s never ran so fast in her life.

She swiftly dodges Atobe’s arms in an attempt to catch her and magnificently dodges the other member’s grasps as they try to catch up to her, suddenly gaining the momentum of a parkour professional. 

“Oi! Since when were you a damn parkour professional?!” Shishido yells as he tries to reach for her arm, but Yamazaki gains more momentum and creates more distance between them.

“Since now!” Yamazaki squawks.

Just as she was about to reach the court’s exit, Shishido threw himself at her rugby style and tackled her to the ground, arms locked around her neck.

“You’re not going anywhere..!” Shishido grits his teeth as he tries to hold down the shrieking manager’s flailing limbs.

“Shishido-san! You can’t do that to a girl!” Ootori reaches out to take Shishido off of Yamazaki, but Hiyoshi stops him from doing so while Akutagawa wakes up from the noise and cackles at the scene.

“Nooo! I don’t wanna go! There’s gonna be so many men..!” Yamazaki shrieks, flopping on the ground like a fish out of water to try and get away from Shishido’s iron grip. The rest of the regulars gather around the spectacle like it’s a crime scene.

“Hah?? That’s what you’re worried about?” Mukahi raises a brow.

 “It’s not any different from dealing with us, y’know?” Oshitari adds, trying not to laugh at their manager flopping on the ground.

“They’re all gonna be sweaty and gross!” Yamazaki cries out dramatically. “And you’re all gonna be picking fights with people from other teams and then I’d have to save your asses from getting beat because apparently in this world, some tennis moves can somehow kill someone-”

“Oi, don’t go breaking the fourth wall now-”

“Enough of this nonsense. Shishido, let her go.” Atobe steps in with Kabaji at his side. Shishido releases Yamazaki with a click of his tongue. 

“So damn lame.” he mutters to himself.

Yamazaki wheezes for air after Shishido releases his arm lock around her neck. “Urgh, you ass! How dare you tackle a weak, frail girl like me?” she pouts, dramatically putting the back of her hand against her forehead like a damsel in distress.

“Weak and frail my ass! You literally decked that Akutsu guy when he was about to swing at Atobe that one time!” Shishido retorts.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” she averts her eyes. Although Yamazaki claims to find her entire team annoying, she does not play when an opponent wants to scrap her teammates. 

Akutsu from Yamabuki Junior High once threw dirt at Atobe’s eyes before a match. Yamazaki then damn well made sure that Akutsu wasn't able to participate in Yamabuki’s upcoming matches that time.

 No one knows what the hell she did nor do they want to know. Akutsu hasn't picked a fight with Hyotei ever since.

“Yamazaki, if you really don't want to come, then I don’t care. But are you really going to stay here when he’s coming?”

“He?” Mukahi raises a curious brow, though Atobe doesn't explain further

Yamazaki’s eyes widened. 

“He’s…coming? Like, really?” she asks, her tone of voice suddenly changing from whiny to somewhat…eager? They rarely see Yamazaki this…emotional.

 Atobe huffs in amusement at the faint glimmer of excitement in her eyes. She’s so easy to read. Just one more push.

The rest of the regulars give the two confused glances.

“Who is this ‘he’ you’re talking about-”

“Really,” he nods. “But since you insist on not going then I guess it’ll be a shame. Right, Kabaji?” Atobe snickers, the corners of his lips curving in a smug smirk as Yamazaki’s face turns from hopeful to panic.

“And your older brother’s there too, isn't he? Didn’t you mention that you haven't seen him in a while?” He adds more salt to the wound. Yamazaki stops moving and stares blankly at the ground, still sitting pathetically on the ground

“Usu.” Kabaji nods.

Tch. Damn Atobe for always being right. Bastard knows he’s right too with that smirk.

“Imagine how disappointed they’ll be when I tell them that you won’t be comi-”

“W-wait! I-I change my mind..! I’ll go!” Yamazaki stammers, holding onto the sleeve of Atobe’s jersey like a lifeline and frantically shaking his arm. 

“Hmph. That’s what I thought.” He huffs with a shit-eating smirk, pulling Yamazaki up from the ground by her arms to have her stand up.

“Oi! I still don’t know who this ‘he’ is-”

“Alright, you lot!” Atobe snaps his fingers and points towards the sky. “I expect you all to be here at 6 AM sharp tomorrow, got it?” 

“Yes!!” The team nods in unison.

“Uh, y-yeah.” Yamazaki mutters. Did she make the right choice..?

“JUST WHO THE HELL IS HE-”

“Mukahi shut the hell up.”

Chapter Text

[Monday, 6 AM. Tokyo Train Station]

The regulars file into the bullet train with their duffle bags and suitcases after bidding farewell to Coach Sakaki with his signature peace sign.

Meanwhile, Yamazaki is already dreading her decision to come along. Fuck, why the hell did she say yes?!

“...what have you done, Maki? Since when have you been so easily swayed by a man…” she quietly murmurs to herself alone, looking down in terror at her shaky palms like she's being possessed.

“Um, Atobe-san? Shouldn't we tell Yamazaki-san to get on the bullet train already?” Ootori sweatdrops in both fear and concern, pointing to their manager currently having an existential crisis.

“Ahn?” Atobe perks up and turns his head to where Ootori is pointing. Ah.

 “Heh,” he chuckles.

“Don't worry about her. I’ll drag her in when it's time to go.” Atobe says watching Yamazaki mutter incoherent nonsense to herself with other passengers nearby thinking she's chanting an ancient spell for a god to grant her divine intervention. 

Knowing her, that’s probably what she's doing considering she’ll be staying with a bunch of men for a couple weeks. Lord knows she’ll need the strength to carry on. 

Atobe chuckles quietly to himself.

“Oi Yamazaki, you done wishing death upon yourself yet?”

—

Yamazaki wakes up to the annoying yelling of Mukahi at the back of the train.

“Oi Hiyoshi! You stole my turtle chips, didn't you?!” Mukahi points an accusatory finger at Hiyoshi who is sitting across from him and Oshitari.

Hiyoshi sighs and takes one earbud out of his ear. “As if I’d stoop so low to steal your stuff out of all people. I’d be taking pity on myself if I did that, senpai.” He scoffs.

“Hah?! Whadja say, you brat?!”

“Tsk.” Yamazaki clicks her tongue in annoyance at the racket, rubbing the sleep of her eyes to adjust to the bright light of the bullet train. She can never get a few seconds of peace when she’s with these idiots.

“You’re getting a little too comfortable there, ahn?” An infuriatingly smug voice enters her ears.

“Mmrgh?” She squints her eyes and raises her head from what she was leaning on. She’d been sleeping on Atobe’s shoulder the whole time. 

“Ugh, yuck.” Yamazaki gags, taking her head off the captain’s shoulder.

“Oi, what do you mean 'yuck'? Every girl would be dying to be in your position right now, you know.” Atobe huffs at her disgust. It’s not everyday a woman gets disgusted by the king himself, after all.

“Too bad I’m not one of ‘em.” She claps back, grumbling to herself as she takes out her earphones from her pocket only to find it a tangled mess.

“You just don't have good taste in men.” He mutters, secretly pouting to himself as he turns toward the window.

“You’re right, I have excellent taste in men.”

—

“Ne, Yamazaki,” Mukahi calls out from behind Yamazaki’s seat, standing up with his arms resting atop of it.

“You’re making my seat lean forward. Get off.”

“I’ve been wondering about this for a while, but what exactly is your type in men?” He asked without moving from his spot.

Atobe opens one eye to sneak a side glance at Yamazaki next to him, secretly curious as to what her answer is. The regulars suddenly stop whatever other conversations they were having to listen in. 

Because if Yamazaki isn't attracted to Atobe—the textbook definition of handsome—then is she even attracted to anyone at this point?

“None of you.” She answers almost too quickly for their liking. The members sweatdrop.

“Hah?! Why not?!” Mukahi screeches, offended.

Yamazaki turns her head to look him dead in the eye.

“You have an astronomical bowl cut, Atobe’s got the personality of sewer water, Oshitari tries to be mysterious but is really just a loser, Shishido’s got anger issues, Akutagawa is Akutagawa-”

“Okay okay we get it! Stop!” Shishido interrupts, butthurt by Yamazaki’s ruthless comments. The third years sulk silently in their seats from the emotional damage.

“But I haven't listed the second years yet-”

“Spare them the damage!”

“But seriously though. What is your type in men?” Oshitari gets back onto the topic, adjusting his glasses after recovering from Yamazaki’s brutal comment. “If Atobe’s not your type then who is?”

“I-”

Atobe scoffs. “Do you even need to ask? It’s obviously Te–mmf..!” Yamazaki slaps her palm over his mouth.

“‘Te’?” Hiyoshi and Ootori tilt their heads.

“Say another syllable and I’ll do a good deed by throwing you outta this bullet train’s window.” She threatens menacingly. 

“And how're you gonna do that? The windows don’t open.” Mukahi raises a brow.

Yamazaki pulls a baseball bat out of her duffle bag. (Why does she even have that?)

No one dared to question Yamazaki any further.

The train ride finally becomes quiet. Peace is restored.

Famous last words.

—

[9:30AM, U-17 Training Camp Entrance]

After the tennis club gets off the shuttle bus, they make their way up the mountain path towards the gates of the U-17 training camp.

“Did they really have to build this camp in the middle of nowhere? Talk about lousy taste.” Oshitari scoffed as they walked past the gate, following the path.

“Oshitari-san, you sounded a lot like Captain Atobe just now.” Ootori sweatdropped.

“Nah, Atobe would be more like– ‘Ahn? How dare they expect someone of my calibre to train in the mountains? Ore-sama is meant for more lavish settings!’” Yamazaki chimes in, mockingly tilting her head back in the way Atobe does.

“Wow, spot on.” Oshitari chuckles.

“Oi. Stop dissing me. And I don't sound like that.” Atobe frowns.

“I’m gonna have to stop you there, kiddos!” Two men wearing white and black jerseys suddenly appear in front of them. U-17 players. Yamazaki instinctively hides behind Kabaji’s tall form from the unfamiliar men.

“You’re those so-called super middle schoolers who’ve been invited to this camp, right?” The guy in the cap smirks. They definitely have something under their sleeve.

‘That’s an ugly stubble.’ Maki blinks.

“Hah? Who’re you?” Shishido raises a brow.

“Your well-experienced senpais. You’re gonna hafta get through a little test to be able to get into this camp.” The guy with the shaggy hair taunts.

‘Super nasally voice. I hate it.’ Maki blinks again.

“A test?” Hiyoshi echoes.

“Ahn? You think you got what it takes to challenge the king?” Atobe scoffs, raising his chin arrogantly. “Bring it on, then.” He smirks.

The two highschoolers lead them into a tennis court with three soda cans at the other end of the court—one on the left, another in the middle, and the other at the right.

“You’ll each get five balls,” Cap guy says, passing balls to the Hyotei regulars. “You’ll pass if you knock over those three cans.” He adds, pointing to said soda cans.

“Think you got the skills to do it? Or is it too hard?” Shaggy hair guy snickers with his buddy.

“Ahn? Who do you think I am?” Atobe takes out his tennis racket, getting ready to serve. 

“Be awed at the sight of my skills!” He calls out as he knocks down two cans with a single tennis ball—Rondo to Destruction.

A CCTV camera mounted onto a pole tracks his movements.

—

“Atobe Keigo, third year and captain of the Hyotei tennis club,” Coach Kurobe says, watching behind the camera with Coaches Saito and Tsuge.

“‘Rondo to Destruction’, huh?” Coach Saito smiles, intrigued.

“–A technique he often uses to control the ball to knock the player’s racket off their hand. As the ball is lobbed back to Atobe’s side of the court, he smashes it right down.” Coach Kurobe elaborates, watching Atobe flawlessly knock down all three cans and walk off to the other side of the court.

“Someone needs to knock that brat’s confidence down.” Coach Tsuge scoffs as Atobe laughs menacingly through the camera.

—

“Get ready to be overthrown.” Hiyoshi steps in, ready to serve in his tennis stance. The camera follows his movements, zooming in on his form.

“Hmm? That’s a rather interesting stance, don't you think?” Coach Saito hums in amusement.

“Hiyoshi Wakashi, second year. He has a unique playing style known as ‘Enbu tennis’ which is based off of kobojutsu, allowing him to react more quickly in his movements.” Coach Kurobe observes.

Hiyoshi huffs arrogantly after successfully knocking down all three cans using three balls. He heads to the other side of the court where Atobe is. “Gekokujou.” He mutters.

—

“Oya? That guy sure can jump!” Coach Saito exclaims as Mukahi steps in the court, jumping highly in place to warm up.

“Mukahi Gakuto, third year. He specializes in acrobatic tennis like Seigaku’s Kikumaru Eiji.”

“Oho? It would be interesting to see those two face each other off~”

“They’ve got too much energy.” Coach Tsuge adds, watching Mukahi flip around the court, knocking down all three cans. Mukahi gives a timid Ootori a smack on the back as he heads to the others who passed the test.

—

Ootori heads into the court, politely bowing before preparing his Scud Serve.

“Ootori Chotaro, second year. Special moves: Scud Serve, Neo Scud Serve. Despite his timid personality, his serves go up to a speed of 200 kilometres per hour.” 

“He’s quite lazy with his naming sense-”

After Ootori passes with flying colours—or cans, rather—Shishido, Kabaji, Akutagawa, and Oshitari successfully knock down their cans without mistakes. The entire team passes.

Yamazaki opens the court’s gate to head out with everyone else, until she gets blocked from leaving by the highschoolers. She raises a brow. The team exchanges perplexed looks.

“Yamazaki-san?” Ootori calls out.

“Please let me through.” Yamazaki requests, but the highschoolers don't budge.

“Oi! What do you guys think you’re doing? Let her go!” Shishido snaps as he tries to grab Yamazaki out, but Atobe grabs his arm.

“Atobe!” 

“Just watch for a minute. I’ll step in when she needs help.” Atobe says without taking his eyes off the scene.

Shishido scoffs and shrugs his arm off Atobe’s hold, muttering how lame this is.

“Don't think that you’re excluded, pretty lady.” Cap guy smirks knowingly. “You got invited here too, so you must have a few special tricks up your sleeve too, don't you?” 

“...I don't know what you mean,” Yamazaki frowns after being separated from the guys. “I’m just a manager.” She adds, sweatdropping and averting her eyes.

“Stop lying, Yamazaki-senpai. You play tennis too.” Hiyoshi remarks, rolling his eyes. Yamazaki’s eye twitches at his callout. She hated having everyone's eyes on her. She'd much rather be in the shadows where no one acknowledges her.

“C’mon little lady. You won't be able to join your friends on the other side if you don't participate.” Shaggy hair guy snickers as Yamazaki considers whether she should climb up the fence or beat these guys up and hide their bodies somewhere. Tch, both equally sound exhausting. And there's cameras everywhere.

“Here, I’ll make it easy for you. You can just knock down one can!” Cap guy says as he takes away the two cans from the left and right ends of the court.

Just as Yamazaki was about to go through with her plan on climbing the fence to avoid any casualties, Atobe’s voice interrupts her thoughts.

“Well? What’re you standing there for, Yamazaki?” He calls out. “It’s not like you can't play, ahn?” He adds, tossing his racket to her. The rest of the guys are all waiting for her.

“Show them that you’re not just an ordinary manager.” 

Yamazaki pouts as she catches Atobe’s racket with ease. “You all should be saving me in times like these, y’know.” She grumbles as she walks to the court, picking up a tennis ball and bouncing it on the ground as she gets into serving position.

“Kick ass, Yamazaki!”

“Good luck, senpai!”

“The winner will be Yamazaki-san.”

The CCTV camera zooms in on Yamazaki.

“Oya oya, what’s this? A manager participating? Can she even serve?” Coach Saito’s eyes widen as he and the other coaches watch behind the camera.

“Oi, Kurobe. Explain.” Coach Tsuge walks over to Coach Kurobe who is silently watching an antsy Yamazaki get ready to serve.

Yamazaki exhales nervously and tosses the ball upwards with her left hand and flexes her right arm, swinging her racket with all her strength. 

The ball meets the racket’s strings and flies over to the other side of the court, briefly splitting into an illusion of two balls and then returning as one as it hits the can, crushing it.

The highschoolers’ jaws drop along with their rackets. The Hyotei team smirks proudly at their embarrassed manager who is wanting to get out as soon as possible after successfully knocking–no, crushing the can.

“There. Can I please get out now?” Yamazaki asks with flushed cheeks.

Coaches Saito and Tsuge’s faces are filled with astonishment.

“Oi, Kurobe. That move…could it be that that girl is–”

“Yamazaki Maki. The No.6 Japan representative’s younger sister.”

Chapter Text

[U-17 Training Camp, Main Courts]

“Heh, so this is where we’ll play our matches?” Mukahi lets out an impressed whistle at the sight of the courts as other U-17 players play against each other.

“Oi Yamazaki, stop hiding behind Kabaji. You can't hide behind him forever.” Shishido pulls Yamazaki away from behind Kabaji.

“Ack-! No!” She squawks, tugging onto the fabric of Kabaji’s jersey to stay behind him.

“What, it’s not like you’ll get forced to play or anything.” Oshitari chuckles.

“Did you not see what I went through earlier?? No one knows what’s gonna happen in this god-forsaken camp,” Yamazaki muttered, biting her nails anxiously. 

“After that whole test with the cans, people are definitely targeting me now! It’s over for me! I knew I shouldn't have come here!” She cries out, frantically shaking Kabaji back and forth.

“Usu usu usu usu usu-”

“I don't see anything wrong with that. You get an opportunity to challenge new opponents and overthrow them, senpai.” Hiyoshi says indifferently, putting a hand in front of a dizzy Kabaji to stop Yamazaki from shaking him.

“Oh Hiyoshi you sweet summer child.”

“Oi. Look up.” Atobe points to a helicopter above.

“Huh?”

“Todoroki, Murata. You’re demoted to Court 14.” A deep voice interrupts from the balcony.

The players all turn their heads to the source of the voice, a man with long brown hair holding a megaphone as he comes out to the terrace.

“Nice to meet you. I am the strategic coach, Kurobe. I am tasked with directing this camp in the absence of the director.” He introduces himself.

“He’s hot.”

“Yamazaki-san?!”

“As you know, we have invited 50 middle schoolers to join the 246 highschoolers here,” Coach Kurobe continues.

“From now on, whether as a middle schooler or highschooler, we will hone your skills and raise the bar of the U-17.”

The regulars exchange confused looks.

“However, I have a message from the director-”

“‘300 is too many. Drop 250 balls.’”

“Eh?” 

“Look!” Yamazaki points to the helicopter as it drops tennis balls from the sky.

“‘Send those unable to get a ball away.’”

“Are you serious?!” One of the highschoolers barks.

Atobe already starts moving. “You heard him, you lot! We’re all on our own starting now!” He yells as he catches a falling tennis ball with his racket.

Coach Kurobe looks at Yamazaki for a few seconds, then turns to head inside the viewing room. Yanazaki tilts her head in confusion. 

‘What was that about?’

The other members along with other middle school regulars from teams around Japan then scramble to catch a ball. They look like chickens.

“Ow-” Yamazaki yelps as a ball lands on her head.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m- AH!” Yamazaki stumbles back in surprise at the all-too-familiar man in front of her.

It’s him.

“Ku…k-ku…kuni…” she stammers shakily. Right! She shouldn't be surprised that he’s here! But why did they have to meet so damn quickly?!

“Kunimitsu.” He corrects her. His lips curve slightly into a barely-noticeable smile. “It’s been ten years and you still can't properly pronounce my name, Maki.” 

“You haven't changed one bit.” His eyes soften as he gives her a tennis ball.

“I-I…I..! Uhh…” Yamazaki malfunctions at the gesture. Dammit, she can't talk..! 

‘Stop it, Maki! You’re being so uncool! Of course he would participate in this camp..! He’s Tezuka–freaking–Kunimitsu, god dammit!’

“Oi Yamazaki, quit acting lame. It’s just Tezuka.” Shishido nudges the manager, raising a skeptical brow at her.

“Hmph. That’s precisely why she’s stuttering and shaking like a fawn. Right, Kabaji?” Atobe huffs in amusement.

“Usu.” Kabaji nods, ball in hand.

Yamazaki glares at Atobe.

“I should've murdered you in your sleep when i had the cha-”

“Ah! You guys are all here too?!” Momoshiro from Seigaku chimes. Maki instinctively hides behind Atobe now that the attention isn't on her.

“Did you really think they’d invite you small fries and not the king, ahn?” Atobe scoffed.

“Hmph, not realizing that we’re here—you’re all going soft!” Sanada from Rikkaidai’s voice comes booming through their ears.

“Kansai players are eligible for selection, too.” Shiraishi from Shitenhouji comes in.

Kite scoffs. “If you’re arrogant enough to think you’re the only ones who’ve been chosen, I’ll force feed you bitter melon.”

“...You don't need to go that far…” Yamazaki sweatdropped. Everyone here is too competitive. She’s drowning in testosterone.

“Oh? Lucky! Hyotei brought their pretty manager along too~!” Sengoku from Yamabuki chirps. Yamazaki scowls at the orange haired man, grip tightening on Atobe’s arm.

“Best you go looking for another woman, Sengoku,” Atobe replies as he smirks down at his cowering manager.

“This one’s got her eyes on someone else.” Atobe adds. Yamazaki gives him a glare that reads ‘I’m killing you in your sleep.’

Tezuka tilts his head in curiosity, but doesn't pry.

—

“W-where are the balls?!”

“There’s no more left!”

“No way! There’s gotta be one somewhere!”

The highschoolers without a ball panic as they frantically search the courts to retrieve one.

“Poke, poke.” Inui pokes one of them on the shoulder and points to a single ball in front of them.

“...”

“It’s mine!” The highschoolers scramble and dive for the ball, that is until a pebble knocks it off the ground and it lands in the hand of none other than Echizen Ryoma himself.

“Yo.” He greets. 

The Seigaku members run up to Echizen except Tezuka, joyfully welcoming him back.

"That hurts, Momo-senpai-"

Ah right, Yamazaki did hear word from Atobe that he went to the US for whatever reason. 

“Ahn? You haven't gotten worse, have you?” Atobe taunts the impassive first year. This prick is always picking a fight. But then again, who isn't in this camp?

“It seems that all the middle schoolers acquired a ball.” Coach Kurobe announces from the viewing room as he explains how the camp’s system works.

All players are divided into Court 1 to 16 by skill, with Court 1 having the most skilled players. The coaches will divide players into groups to compete in shuffle matches. Those who win move up a court and those who lose move down a court.

“Highschoolers who did not get a ball, you are to leave immediately.” 

Yamazaki sighs in relief. “Looks like I’ll be able to get some peace and quiet after a-”

“That’s ridiculous! You can't pick up more than one ball!” A highschooler with a blonde pompadour yells. The guy looks more like a thirty year old man than a highschool student. Is U-17 even doing background checks on their players? Who even has that hairstyle nowadays??

“Coach Sakaki give me strength-”

“He didn't say we couldn't.” Shiraishi replied.

“Hahah! Too bad! Just hurry up and go home already!” Kirihara laughs mockingly at the pompadour guy.

Pompadour guy clicks his tongue in frustration. “Don't think you’ve got it all just because you got a ball. That’s got nothing to do with tennis.” He walks to the court.

“Let’s have a match to settle this!” He demands. 

Yamazaki sighs and looks up at the sky, wishing that she should've prayed harder to the gods to grant her divine intervention. This guy’s the definition of a sore loser.

Eventually Echizen shuts him up. Bless the kid.

Another guy picks a fight with Echizen and eventually gets sent flying across the court. Again, bless the kid.

“Mada mada dane.” Echizen huffs victoriously.

The match sparks more competition between the middle schoolers and highschoolers, leading to the highschoolers’ embarrassing defeat.

Yamazaki watches from the bleachers, face scrunching in second-hand embarrassment for the highschoolers. The skill difference between the two groups is like comparing a kitten to a lion. 

But then again, none of the middle schoolers are human anyways. At least that’s what Yamazaki believes. 

Because no way in hell a normal human can take away an opponent’s five senses using a mere racket and tennis ball. She ponders this about once or twice a day and still gets baffled by how illogical it is.

—

“You idiot,” Shishido scolds Ootori after seeing him give two of his extra tennis balls to two highschoolers. Wasn't that cap guy and shaggy hair guy from the test earlier…?

“Don't go helping your enemies, Chotaro. That’s lame.” 

“Ah, Shishido-san and Yamazaki-san,” Ootori notices his senpais approaching him.

“You’re acting as if they’re war enemies, Shishido.” Yamazaki rolls her eyes.

“Are they not? They’re the ones picking a fight on us, so we should show them no mercy.” He replies with a scoff, glaring at said highschoolers.

“Wait, Shishido-san. What did you say just now?” Ootori tilts his head.

“Showing them no mercy?” Shishido asks.

“No, what you said before that.”

“I said it’s lame.”

“Not super lame?”

“J-just…plain lame.”

“What’s super lame is this conversation you two are having.” Yamazaki interrupts.

—

Pompadour guy gets his racket blown away by Sanada’s Fu Rin Ka Zan. The guy never learns to show mercy on his opponents, no matter the skill difference. He’s probably a secret sadist under all that zen.

“I-I’m just getting started!” Pompadour guy yells. “Oi! Someone get me another racket-”

“You’re pathetic! If you didn't get a ball, get out of here!” A gruff looking red-haired guy interrupts. 

Again, the guy looks way too old to be a highschooler. No way is he under 17 years old. Two other people walk behind him. 

Huh..? That black haired guy looks oddly familiar…

“I won't allow this to continue, now leave!” He demanded. The highschoolers cower and do as he says.

“How foolish to challenge an opponent of unknown strength.” A curly haired guy wearing glasses adds. His smile looks infuriating.

Yamazaki looks at the third guy next to the two. 

Ah!

“Tokugawa-san..!” Yamazaki calls out in surprise. The middle schoolers turn to her, confused.

“...Maki?” The black haired guy’s eyes widened slightly. What’s she doing here?

“Do you know one of them, senpai?” Hiyoshi asked.

“Yeah. That tall guy with the black hair is Tokugawa Kazuya. He’s friends with my older brother, I think.” Yamazaki says, pointing to the tall man. 

“You think??” Hiyoshi sweatdrops.

“Details, details.” Yamazaki waves him off. 

The three guys walk towards the tennis court where the middle schoolers are.

“You can't play matches here without permission.” Glasses guy smiles knowingly while fiddling with the collar of his jacket. 

“If you want to play against us, you have to win your shuffle matches.” The scary guy with the red hair says. “Just so you know, the guys you played earlier were all Court 10 or lower,”

“Don't get ahead of yourselves.” He says before walking off with Tokugawa and glasses guy.

“Then what court are you bastards from? I’ll crush all of you.” Akutsu threatens. Kawamura laughs nervously and tries to calm him down with Momoshiro.

“I’m Kanata Irie from Court 3.” Glasses–no, Kanata said. He looks over to the scary red haired guy, gesturing to him to introduce himself.

“...Court 5. Oni Jujiroh.” 

‘What a fitting name.’ The middle schoolers sweatdrop as the three walk off.

Echizen walks in front of Tokugawa. “And what number are you?” He asks. Tokugawa walks past him.

“What, are you not gonna tell me-” Echizen stops talking when he sees Tokugawa’s icy glare. Koharu’s squealing can be heard from a distance.

“Do you want to go home?” Tokugawa asks mysteriously. 

Echizen furrows his brows. Seeing his lack of response, Tokugawa continues walking.

“–Tokugawa Kazuya. He’s in Court 1.” Kanata whispers to Echizen with a wink before walking off with the other guys. 

The middle schoolers feel a wave of intimidation and excitement. “It would seem there are greater monsters here than we initially thought.” Kite adjusts his glasses. The others nod in agreement.

Tokugawa then stops walking and looks over his shoulder to Yamazaki. 

“Maki.”

“Uh, yes?” Yamazaki replies hesitantly, sweating buckets. Oh god. Is he gonna challenge her to a match? She’d rather die..! What if he uses his-

“Follow me.” 

“...eh?” Yamazaki blinks. The Hyotei members blink. Tokugawa keeps walking towards the camp.

Tokugawa then stops walking as he makes it to the entrance of the camp, turning to wait for Yamazaki to catch up.

“Ah! C-coming!” Yamazaki stutters as she runs up to Tokugawa.

…

“You think he’ll kidnap her?” Mukahi whispers.

“May she rest in peace.” Oshitari replies.

“S-senpai, don't say such things!”

Chapter Text

[U-17 Training Camp, Lounge]

Yamazaki internally shits bricks as she awkwardly follows Tokugawa inside the building. 

‘He hasn't said a single word..!’

She yelps as she clumsily trips over her own feet. Her neck snaps to look up at Tokugawa to see if he reacted, only to see that he’s not even looking at her. 

Is this guy a robot?

“U-um, Tokugawa-sa-”

“Water.” Tokugawa says, handing her a bottle of water that he got from the vending machine.

“Eh?”

“...Water.” He repeats, gesturing to his hand holding the bottle.

“Ah…thank you.” Yamazaki bowed awkwardly as she accepts the bottled water. Tokugawa quietly stares at her, waiting for her to drink it.

‘What a weirdo..!’

“...Tokugawa-san, did you poison this water or something?” 

“No? Why would I?” He tilts his head.

“Then why are you staring at me like that?” She sweatdrops. Seriously, what does this guy want?

“I was asking myself why you are in this camp.” He answered blankly.

“You could’ve asked me instead.”

“...Indeed.”

“...”

The atmosphere’s too awkward. It’s unbearable.

Both Yamazaki and Tokugawa aren't very sociable types of people. They rarely ever talk to each other unless her older brother is with them.

“...Should I answer your question for you?” Yamazaki’s eyebrow twitches uncomfortably.

“Yes please.” Tokugawa nods.

Yamazaki sighs. “Apparently the U-17 team is looking for a manager. I was dragged along by my team because they thought I would be a perfect fit for the position.” She answers.

“I see.” Tokugawa hummed. “You are fitting for the role knowing your tennis knowledge,” he agrees. “But this isn't like you,” he adds.

“‘Not like me’?” Yamazaki tilts her head.

“You usually don't want to participate in things out of your comfort zone.” He states bluntly.

‘Always so observant, Tokugawa-san’ Her eye twitches again.

“Ah, y-yeah.”

And it’s true. Yamazaki hates doing things she doesn't have much knowledge about. This causes her to have little motivation to experience opportunities for herself in fear of failing. 

If there’s no tennis practice, the girl is always rotting in her bed to nap or play games on her phone the entire day.

The tennis club however is determined to break this bad habit of hers by forcefully dragging her out of her house to accompany them to who knows where from time to time. They’re a blessing and a curse.

“So why did you come?” He asks, leaning back against the wall behind him.

“Well-”

Maki cuts herself off as she remembers the reason why she chose to come.

“Are you really going to stay here when he’s coming?” Atobe’s provoking voice rings in her ears.

Yamazaki’s mind implodes. 

“NO!” She frantically shakes her head to get rid of her thoughts, making Tokugawa back up in surprise.

“...It’s okay if you don't want to tell me.” Tokugawa blinks at Yamazaki’s sudden outburst.

“Ah–wait, no. I, uh…” Yamazaki racks her mind to find an excuse besides telling him the actual reason because she’d rather die than admit that she came here to see a man.

“I, uh…wanted to see my brother.” She mutters pathetically. 

She’s not lying, though. It’s part of the truth. Her older brother is also the reason why she chose to come. 

About 10% of the reason.

Tokugawa raises a skeptical brow knowing Yamazaki’s hiding her true reason, but chooses not to pry.

“I see.” He nods and gets off of the wall he was sitting on, making his way to the door.

Yamazaki sighs in relief as she sees Tokugawa leaving. Crisis averted–

“Speaking of your brother,” Tokugawa turns back to look at her. Ugh. She spoke too soon.

“He’s asking if you and this Kunimitsu guy are dating yet.” 

“...Tell him I’ll kill him.”

—

[U-17 Training Camp, Dormitory]

The middle schoolers settle in the building with their luggages, looking at the bulletin boards at the lounge that have their names posted on which dorm room they are assigned to.

“Waahh! A room with Oishi~!” Kikumaru cheers, high-fiving Oishi.

“Oi, Choutarou. We’re gonna be roomed with Seigaku’s golden pair. We gotta make sure they don't look down on us.” Shishido mutters to Ootori while glaring at said golden pair. Oishi and Kikumaru are too busy celebrating to even acknowledge their other roommates.

“Oh? A room with Hiyoshi, Kaidoh, and Zaizen huh?” Kirihara smirks, scratching his chin with his fingers as he looks at the bulletin board. “Looks like they grouped the future captains together!”

“You? A captain? Don't make me laugh.” Kaidoh scoffs as he already heads to the assigned room.

“Whadja say?!” 

Hiyoshi sighs in annoyance as he looks at the new living arrangements. No way is he going to be able to meditate with Kirihara around. No one’s gonna be able to calm him down unless it’s Sanada.

“What’s wrong, Hiyoshi?” Yamazaki tiptoes and peeks over his shoulder to see the board.

“Please don't sneak up behind me, senpai,” he scolds, yet turns slightly to let Yamazaki see the board.

Hiyoshi sighs again. “I got assigned a room with the worst possible person.” He points at the paper with his name and Kirihara on it. He’s already dreading spending the night with him.

“My condolences.” Yamazaki clasps her hands together, shuddering at the thought of sharing a room with the devil himself. Literally.

“Anyway, where will you be sleeping, senpai? I don't see your name on the list.” Hiyoshi asked.

“Eh?” Yamazaki looks over the list again and indeed–her name is not on the list. 

“Huh, that’s weird.”

“Maybe they’re making you sleep on the streets!” Akutagawa chimes.

“That’s where you’ll end up if you don't shut the hell-”

“About that,” Coach Kurobe clears his throat as he stands behind the group gathered around the bulletin board. When did he get there?!

“Miss Yamazaki. We have assigned a separate room for you.” He says coolly, approaching Yamazaki.

Yamazaki’s face lights up in excitement. “R-really?!” She clasps her hands together in relief.

The dorm situation was honestly the one thing Yamazaki was dreading the most. She’s the only female in the camp after all, trapped with hundreds of men. Looks like she’ll be able to get her peace and quiet after all–

“Hah? Why does she get special treatment?!” Akutsu snarls. “She’s not even a player!” He adds, pointing accusingly at Yamazaki.

“Ahn? What kind of question is that? She’s the only woman in this camp, so of course she’ll need a room to herself.” Atobe claps back at Akutsu.

Yamazaki looks at Akutsu blankly. “You want me to sleep and change clothes in the same room as you sweaty, gross men? You just wanted to room with a woman, didn’t you?” She raises a brow, adding an emphasis on changing clothes.

“Wha– That’s not what I fucking meant-” Pink colours Akutsu’s pale white skin.

“Enough commotion. Now, everyone please head to your rooms. You are all to gather at the courts at 12:30PM sharp. Dismissed.” Coach Kurobe claps his hands to quiet down the middle schoolers.

The players do as he says and haul their luggages to their assigned rooms with Akutsu muttering cuss words under his breath as he heads his way to his dorm room.

“This way, please.” Coach Kurobe comes up to Yamazaki, startling her as he already makes his way down the hall to where her room is.

“C-coming!”

…

Yamazaki sweatdrops at the…obnoxiously pink decor of her room upon entering. Pink curtains, pink bedsheets, and pink cushions. Could this room get any more pink??

“...Thank you for indicating that this is my room. I never would've guessed.” She deadpans dryly.

Coach Kurobe clears his throat. “I apologize. Coach Saito insisted that—ahem, in his words—we ‘girlify’ the room to make you feel included.” His brow twitches, reminding himself to give Coach Saito a stern lecturing later.

“...I uh, appreciate the effort.” Yamazaki bows awkwardly. Looks like Coach Kurobe has his own troubles too.

“...Well, shall you need further assistance such as requesting for feminine products, we have dispensers installed in all of our women's washrooms. Feel free to use them as you see fit. Farewell.” Coach Kurobe adds before leaving the room and closing the door.

While Yamazaki appreciates the inclusivity, she feels that they have gone a bit too inclusive into decorating her room. 'It's the thought that counts, I guess.’ She sighs. 

Time to unpack her stuff in the meantime before noon.

—

As Yamazaki stores away the last of her things, she along with the tennis players exit their rooms to head to the courts. She’d just stepped out and she’s already missing her ridiculously pink room.

“What a surprise, you actually chose to come out of your room.” Shishido huffs as they meet along the gates of the tennis courts, adjusting his blue cap.

“Seeing you makes me want to lock myself back inside.”

“The hell did you say-”

“I wonder what our first training regimen will be?” They overhear Kikumaru whispering to Tezuka ahead of them.

“Whatever it is, we mustn't let our guards down.” Comes Tezuka’s stern reply.

Yamazaki looks at Tezuka from behind. Kunimitsu…they haven’t properly talked to each other since elementary school. 

They’d been classmates the entire time at Seishun Elementary and stuck together like glue. Their personalities were a great contrast but they managed to work well together—Tezuka was reserved and intelligent while Yamazaki was always getting involved in fights and had terrible grades (she still does now). He'd go out of his way to tutor her after school and they grew closer.

They eventually drifted apart when they went their separate ways at junior high. Tezuka chose to attend Seishun Gakuen while Yamazaki went to Hyotei Academy to follow along in her brother’s footsteps. Whenever they would see each other at tennis matches in opposing teams, their interactions had always been cut short due to their busy schedules.

He’s grown so tall. And his voice dropped like ten octaves over the years. Not to mention he looks so damn handso–

“Yamazaki!” 

Shishido’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts.

“Ah. What?” Yamazaki blinks up at Shishido, trying her hardest to forget that she called Tezuka handsome.

“Did you even hear what I just said?” Shishido sighs.

“That you think I’m the prettiest woman in the world? I know.” She deflects.

“W-What the hell?! N-No I don’t! Wait no, I mean–” He sputters.

“Oh so you think I’m ugly?” 

“NO! Shit– I mean–”

“Alright~! Is everyone here?” An unfamiliar voice interrupts, coming from the speakers of the viewing room by the courts. Shishido sighs in relief. 

“Hello everyone, I go by Coach Saito.” A very tall, long-haired man steps out onto the bleachers, holding a megaphone. 

“...Long.” Yamazaki mutters.

“Oi!”

“I’ve been observing your matches,” he says through the megaphone. “I’d have to say, you’re all much stronger than I would expect of middle schoolers~!”

‘He looks way too cheerful. There’s gotta be something up with him’. Yamazaki’s and Shishido’s gazes harden at the tall coach.

“–But strengthening your mental ability will make you even better. Yes, yes~” he continues. “First up, please group yourselves into pairs. Anyone’s fine!”

‘He’s testing their mental abilities through doubles matches?’ Yamazaki tilts her head as she watches Shishido walk over to Ootori and Mukahi walk towards Oshitari with a confident grin.

The rest of the middle school players pair themselves up in their usual doubles pairs—Kikumaru and Oishi, Marui and Jackal, Oshitari (Kenya) and Shiraishi, Sanada and Yukimura, and so forth.

“Now that everyone is paired up, you will now play singles matches.” Coach Saito announces.

“What?! Singles…?” Oishi echoes in surprise.

“You will play against the partners you grouped up with,” The coach repeats. “Those who lose will drop out of the camp immediately."

‘I knew something was up with him.’ Yamazaki furrows her brows as she watches the pairs in front of her look at each other in bewilderment, particularly focusing on a certain pair—Atobe and Hiyoshi.

That won’t be a fun watch.

So this was what he meant by strengthening their mental abilities.

“Psst! Hyotei’s Manager-san!” Coach Saito bends down to whisper at Yamazaki below.

Yamazaki perks up and looks above at the tall coach smiling down at her. “Come here for a moment,” he gestures. 

She tilts her head skeptically but makes her way to the bleachers as instructed.

“This is ridiculous! I can't do this!” Kaidoh protests, who is paired with Tezuka. Yikes, Yamazaki’s face scrunches up. Kaidoh really can't. He’d end up in a humiliating defeat. 

“–Let’s begin with pairs from here to here,” Coach Saito points at his laptop screen.

“Oi, are you even listening, you lanky bastard?!”

“Oh, and—pairs who don't comply will be eliminated, yes yes~” he smiles brightly, specifically towards Kaidoh, angering him further. 

Yamazaki sweatdrops as she awkwardly stands next to the tall coach. Atobe huffs in amusement seeing the obscene height difference. 

“She looks like a cockroach compared to that lamp post. Right, Kabaji?” He smirks.

“Usu.” Kabaji nods.

“Well then, it’s time to get started!” Coach Saito claps his hand together, announcing the first pairs—Shishido and Ootori.

Yamazaki watches uncomfortably from the bleachers next to the coach. Shishido and Ootori? Those two have been playing doubles their entire time together. They make up Hyotei’s strongest doubles pair—one that rivals Seigaku’s golden pair. Yamazaki can’t watch this.

She sneaks a side glance at the tall, smiling coach, who doesn't look the slightest bit remorseful with his decision. 

‘He’s probably done this a number of times before we came here.’ Yamazaki thinks.

“Um, coach?” She asks, fingers clutching the fabric of her Hyotei uniform as the two enter the court.

“Hmm~?” He replies, watching Shishido and Ootori in amusement.

“Why have you called me up here?” She turns slightly to face him.

“Ah, well, two things—one, I wanted to see you watch your friends crumble in despair~!”

“What-”

“And two—which is more important—I want you to write down each player’s weaknesses as they play against their partners,” Coach Saito says, handing her a clipboard and pen that she takes with reluctance.

“You’re used to seeing your teammates face off against players from other schools, right? Don't you ever wonder how it looks like seeing your own teammates facing each other off? During an important step towards their tennis careers, nonetheless~?” He chirps, looking the least bit bothered by the pairs waiting anxiously on the sidelines for their turn on the court.

“Not really–”

“Shh. Your teammates are about to start,” the Coach hushes Yamazaki. 

“Remember to write down their weaknesses. That’s your first task as the U-17 manager~”

…this man is insane.

Yamazaki clutches her pen and clipboard as Shishido serves first. She bites her lip anxiously.

Chapter Text

‘Are we really going to do this…?’ Ootori looks at Shishido on the other side of the court, unused to this sight. He should be on that side of the court with Shishido, not across from him.

Shishido across from him quietly bounces the tennis ball, then looks straight at his opponent—Ootori.

“Shishido-san! I–”  

The ball comes flying past Ootori. Shishido scores a point. 

“Don't just stand there, Choutarou!” Shishido yells. “The match has already begun!”

“Shishido-san…” Ootori’s voice trembles.

Shishido grips his racket. “It’s your turn, now give me your best scud serve.” He spits.

Yamazaki and Coach Saito watch from the bleachers as Ootori stares at the ball in his hand, reluctant to land a scud serve on his doubles partner.

“Quite timid, isn't he~?” Coach Saito smiles in amusement, his chin resting on his arm propped against his lap.

“Hmm?” He notices Yamazaki already writing something down on the clipboard.

Shishido: Tends to be overly aggressive when facing an emotionally challenging situation. Uses tennis as a way to take out his frustrations, making him lose focus on the game.

Ootori: Is reluctant to play against his teammates in a high-stakes situtation. Is probably thinking of losing on purpose.

“They’ve only scored one point and you’ve already written their flaws down?” He smirks at the manager writing down on the clipboard.

“...these are the things they continue to have difficulty improving on throughout the years,” Yamazaki taps her pen against the clipboard. “Those two tend to let their emotions get in the way.” She stares at the pair, watching Ootori’s face harden into a determined expression.

“...Here I go.” Ootori raises the tennis ball. 

There's nowhere to run. One of them will have to leave, whether they like it or not.

“Bring it on!” Shishido yells.

—

“Look, look, Yamazaki–chan~” Coach Saito snaps Yamazaki out of her thoughts on Shishido and Ootori. 

“Yes?” She turns to look at the coach.

“Look over there, looks like your other teammates are about to go at it as well~” he tilts his head towards Mukahi and Oshitari entering an empty court. Oh dear.

Giving Mukahi’s tendency to showboat, he will probably try to prove to Oshitari that he will do well on his own without him. Oshitari however, is an enigma. Knowing him, he probably just wants to see Mukahi’s downfall for the entertainment of it.

“Let’s go, Yuushi. Whoever loses, no hard feelings.” Mukahi approaches Oshitari on the bench who’s tightening his shoelaces.

Oshitari stands. “I’m glad you said that. I couldn't bear having you hate me.” He walks inside the lines of the court.

“What? Wait– Yuushi! You think it’s a given that you’ll win, huh?!” Gakuto growls.

“Of course I do. No one steps into the court thinking they’ll lose, no matter who he’s up against.” Oshitari looks over his shoulder, glaring icily at Mukahi.

That’s a look Yamazaki hasn't seen on Oshitari in a while. 

—

Yamazaki’s head constantly turns left and right to observe both matches of her teammates, frantically writing notes down on the clipboard.

Mukahi: Has a tendency to show off in front of Oshitari. Most likely to prove that he can do well without him.

Oshitari: Currently calm and collected. That will come crumbling down later on.

Meanwhile on the other courts, Rikkai’s Yagyuu and Niou had already begun their match. Seigaku’s golden pair have just entered the court.

“Hmm, it looks like everything’s going according to plan,” Coach Saito stands. “I’ll leave the rest to you, Yamazaki-chan.” He smiles before walking off.

‘I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown.’ Yamazaki sweatdrops as the coach leaves, then turns her head back to the Shishido-Ootori and Oshitari-Mukahi matches. It isn't looking good for Shishido and Mukahi. They’re lagging behind.

Saito leaves the bleachers and enters the viewing room, accidentally bumping his head against the door frame.

“Ack-!”

“...How are they faring?” Coach Kurobe asks from his seat, holding a cup of tea.

“Well,” Coach Saito rubs his forehead. “Everything’s going more or less as expected, though few of them refuse to cooperate.” He smiles enigmatically at one of the CCTV screens showing Echizen and Toyama facing off highschoolers left and right in the outside courts instead of participating in the elimination matches.

Coach Kurobe’s eye twitches at the two first years. “...Send them away immediately.”

As Yamazaki nearly gives herself whiplash trying to watch the two matches, a hand placed atop her head stops her head from turning. She was so busy trying to write down notes, she hadn't noticed a presence right behind her.

“Your head’s going to fall off at this rate, fool.” Atobe huffs from behind. 

“Get off me. And I’d much rather prefer that than watching these matches.” Maki swats his hand away while her eyes remain on the two courts. 

Atobe hops over one of the bleacher seats to settle down next to Yamazaki. “What did that lanky coach tell you to do?” He looks over at her clipboard.

“Told me to write down their weaknesses when playing against each other.” She hands him her clipboard for him to read. “He probably wants me to analyze how each of you play under intense pressure” she scoffs.

“Tch. Ruthless man. Knew something was off with that smug grin of his.” Atobe furrows his brows reading her notes. But he must admit, he’s a damn good coach.

He told everyone to pair up, allowing the players to think they’d be competing in doubles matches, only to shatter that idea down by turning them against each other. 

Since they’re all used to working with their doubles partners, having them play against each other puts them in an unfamiliar yet high-stakes situation that could cost their future in tennis.

Not to mention, this could help the coaches evaluate each player’s mental resilience in the camp. No wonder Saito calls it “Mental Strengthening”. 

“It’s an ‘every man for himself’ situation.” Atobe furrows his brows.

“Yeah,” Yamazaki nods. She winces at the sight of Mukahi diving and reaching his racket out for the incoming ball, only for him to miss and face plant onto the field.

“Dammit!” Mukahi pounds his fist against the ground.

“Tch. Disgraceful.” Atobe clicks his tongue.

“...How are you feeling about this?” Yamazaki asks Atobe, watching Hyotei’s doubles pairs face off against each other at the courts.

“The same as you,” Atobe replies. “It’s unsightly and a cruel twist of fate,” his brows that are usually so furrowed soften ever so slightly.

“But if they can't rise above this, then they’ve got no place here.” His gaze then hardens.

“...Yeah.” Comes Yamazaki's muttered response. 

“All we have to do is watch it unfold.” He says.

Which is what they do, along with the rest of Hyotei and the other teams watching. None of them intervene nor cheer. They all simply…observe. 

And deep down—though Atobe would rather drown than admit it—he loathes the idea of his teammates leaving the camp.

—

“...”

 Yamazaki and Atobe watch as Oshitari scores the winning point against Mukahi.

“Sorry, Gakuto. It’s a shame it’s come to this.” Oshitari looks down at Mukahi at the other side of the court, exhausted and defeated. 

“Game and match! Oshitari!”

He takes one last look at Mukahi before walking off the court and adjusting his glasses. That was their last game together.

Yamazaki’s fingers clutch her pen.

“Were you expecting that?” Atobe asks Yamazaki, his gaze following Mukahi as he too, walks off the court.

“...I hate to say it, but…yeah. Oshitari would’ve won, no matter the circumstances.” Yamazaki sighs.

Well, at least that’s one match out of the way–

“Game and match, Ootori, 9-7!”

The laptop screen next to her shows Shishido’s and Mukahi’s profiles labelled with an angry red “DISQUALIFIED” in bold text in front of their faces. They’re going to leave the camp.

This mental strengthening exercise is too much.

“Dammit!” Shishido curses in frustration after the game, packing his tennis racket into his bag.

“That was close,” Ootori says softly. “When you returned all my Scud Serves, I thought I was done for.”

“Tch. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Choutarou. There’ll be plenty of guys who’ll do that here.” Shishido scolds, making Ootori pipe down with a quiet “yes”.

Yamazaki watches as Shishido gives Ootori his remaining racket grip tape, harshly smacking his back and consoling him. She smiles softly at how Ootori tears up.

“T-thank you…” he nods while sniffling.

“Geez. Don't make that face. You look kinda lame.” Shishido scolds, looking away in embarrassment.

“Look at you, blushing like a schoolgirl after giving her crush a love letter.”

Shishido stiffens up and glares at Yamazaki and Atobe leaning onto the bleacher’s railing with a shit-eating grin on their faces.

“Never knew you could be that sweet, Shishido.” Atobe looks down at him

“Who’re you calling a schoolgirl, hah?! And I can be sweet when I want to, damn it!” Shishido spits. “You’ve just been watching there the whole time watching us suffer!” 

“Oi, I was suffering too! How do you think it feels for me watching my precious teammates face against each other–” Yamazaki argues, then pauses. Oh shit–

“Yamazaki-san, did you just say ‘precious teammates’?” Ootori blinks in surprise.

“Ahn?” Atobe smirks.

“Wait–”

“Oho? Is the cold-blooded Yamazaki-chan finally admitting that she loves her teammates?” Oshitari chimes in after his match with Mukahi, looking equally smug.

“No–”

“Awww, you do care about us after all!” Mukahi joins in with the teasing.

“You’re acting super lame right now, Yamazaki.” Shishido smirks.

“Usu.” Kabaji nods. When the hell did he show up?

“If you all don't shut up within two seconds I’ll feed you to the wolves–”

Coaches Kurobe and Saito watch the Hyotei tennis players each take their turn jabbing at their flustered manager through the CCTV screens.

“A draining match between equally matched players—it seems like it was a good use of time.” Coach Kurobe nods in approval. “They’re all sporting good expressions.” He smiles subtly at the team’s camaraderie despite what had happened.

“But, that doesn't change the fact that their friends are eliminated.” Coach Kurobe’s face loses his smile, watching Kikumaru win against Oishi. Oishi walks off the court after giving Kikumaru one last high five.

“Now then, shall we move on to the next matches~?” Coach Saito pulls up a tab on his laptop screen.

“These will be interesting, don't you think? A match between current and future captains~?” He clicks on the pairs of the next matches:

Atobe Keigo vs Hiyoshi Wakashi

Tezuka Kunimitsu vs Kaidoh Kaoru

“...Indeed.” Coach Kurobe nods, sipping his tea.

Chapter Text

“It’s showtime.” Atobe raises his hand and snaps his fingers, throwing his jacket off (which Kabaji catches) as he heads into the court with Hiyoshi.

Shishido, Ootori, Mukahi, and Oshitari have finished their matches against each other. They’ve done what needs to be done. Now, it’s time for the king to shine.

“The winner,” Atobe approaches Hiyoshi at the net.

“Will be me.” He declares.

Atobe’s arm remains in the air.

“...”

“...”

“...Shall we say the Hyotei cheer?” Ootori asks his senpais at the bleachers with him.

“Don't even bother.” Shishido’s brow twitches.

“Why’s he just standing there? He’s giving me second-hand embarrassment.” Yamazaki grumbled, cringing at Atobe looking shamelessly confident as always with his arm still lingering in the air.

“Right?” Oshitari huffs in agreement. “It’s so quiet now that the rest of the tennis club isn't with us.” He adds, watching Hiyoshi raise a brow at their captain. "Without all the cheering and yelling, Atobe looks like a performer with an empty crowd." Oshitari huffs.

“Are you done now, Atobe-san?” Hiyoshi sighs after watching Atobe stand in front of him smirking for two minutes.

“Yeah. Satisfied.” Atobe nods in satisfaction, finally putting his arm down.

…

Yamazaki looks at the other court and sees Tezuka and Kaidoh approaching the court as well. It’s a battle of captains today. Tezuka looks indifferent as ever.

“Oi, quit giving googly eyes on Seigaku’s captain. Who’s side are you even on?” Shishido elbows Yamazaki, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“I should've joined Seigaku when I had the chance. At least their captain’s not shamelessly embarrassing.” She grumbles, rubbing her side that Shishido elbowed as she continues to watch Tezuka. 

“Probability of new overtaking old: 22%” Yamazaki hears Inui mutter from the other side of the bleachers. 

She looks back at the men on court. It’s the harsh truth. Both Tezuka and Atobe are solid iron walls that are impossible to take down. You’d have to be a borderline tennis pro to even keep up with the two. If anyone belongs to this camp, it’s them.

“Shall we get started, then?” Tezuka asks Kaidoh, adjusting his glasses.

“Yes,” Kaidoh nods. “As your junior, I intend to learn everything from this match.” He declares. 

Tezuka’s brows furrow, and he walks to his side of the court without a response.

He tightens his grip on his racket.

“?!” Kaidoh’s eyes widen when he sees a familiar aura surrounding Tezuka’s left hand.

‘Hyakuren Jitoku no Kiwami…!’ Yamazaki takes a sharp intake of breath.

‘It’s one of Kunimitsu’s moves where he focuses all his strength onto his left hand, returning any shot he receives with twice the amount of force.’

“Kaidoh,” Tezuka’s eyes sharpen.

“Give me everything you’ve got.” 

Kaidoh gulps, his serving stance faltering slightly.

‘He really intends to show no mercy to his teammates, huh?’ Yamazaki thinks. 

That’s so like Kunimitsu, she huffs quietly to herself.

…

“Prepare to be overthrown, Atobe-san.” Hiyoshi mutters under his breath as Atobe gets ready to serve. He readies his receiving stance.

Yamazaki watches with her arms resting on the railing. Knowing Atobe, he’s most likely to give Hiyoshi a hard time to push him to his limits. Therefore–

“Bah–!” Atobe swings his racket and serves at Hiyoshi. The ball spins rapidly and heads straight down.

“A Tannhauser already?!” Shishido exclaims.

Yamazaki smirks. As expected. Hiyoshi’s eager to play with Atobe, and knowing Atobe, he intends to shut that enthusiasm down by tiring him out. 

But Hiyoshi already predicted this. He takes a single step back, waits for the ball to bounce, then he returns it. Atobe's eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“1-0, Hiyoshi!” 

Atobe looks back at where the tennis ball bounced off of on the field, then turns back to Hiyoshi. "You've been practicing, ahn?" He raises a brow.

“That’s not an easy hit for a second year to return.” Oshitari states. It isn't. And Yamazaki knows how hard Hiyoshi trained to return Atobe’s Tannhausers.

—

[4 months ago, Hyotei Academy’s Indoor Tennis Court]

“Hyah–!” Hiyoshi grunts as he fails to return the rapidly incoming tennis ball from the tennis machine. It’s adjusted at a lower angle, similar to how Atobe’s Tannhausers tend to go from the way the ball rapidly spins down near the court’s surface, making it nearly impossible to return.

He prepares for the next ball from the machine, only for it to shut off. It ran out of balls. Again.

Hiyoshi pants and looks around the gym. Tennis balls are scattered all over the floor. He hasn't even noticed.

“Oi.” 

A tennis ball softly hits Hiyoshi’s back with a muffled 'thud'. He turns to where the ball came from, and sees Hyotei's manager leaning against the gym’s doorframe.

“Yamazaki-senpai? Why are you still on campus?” Hiyoshi raises a brow. It’s unlike Yamazaki to stay behind after school or practice. She’s usually the first one to go home out of everyone.

“Could ask you the same thing,” she says, picking up the stray tennis balls and throwing them into a rolling basket. 

“If you keep hitting balls at that angle, your arm will fall off, you know.” She warns, picking up the last ball she tossed next to Hiyoshi’s foot. “And it’s getting dark. The school's gates will close soon.” She adds.

Hiyoshi looks up at the gym’s windows near the ceiling. The sun has almost completely set. Has he really been practicing that long? What time is it?

“Are you trying to return Atobe’s Tannhausers?” 

Hiyoshi blinks in surprise at the manager. Always so perceptive, this woman. Despite her always leaving the second practice ends, her tennis knowledge is second to none. She’s thoroughly studied all two hundred members’ playstyles and has created training regimens for each individual player. 

“...Yes.” Hiyoshi nods, holding his arm that’s definitely not straining right now.

“Why?” Yamazaki asks. “It’s not like he’s on the opposing team.” She tilts her head.

“I refuse to inherit the title of captain until I manage to return his Tannhausers.” He replies, his brows narrowed determinedly.

“Plus, there might be a day where I have to go up against Atobe-san. This is only one small step of overthrowing him.” 

Yamazaki blinks in surprise. Hiyoshi’s always set impossibly high standards for himself. She always found that part about him admirable. 

A quality that she doesn't have.

“...You’re already doing well, though.” Yamazaki mutters awkwardly. 

Hiyoshi’s eyes snap open wide. Did he hear that correctly? Yamazaki’s never one to compliment anyone. The closest thing she’s ever done to that is patting their heads.

He stares at his senpai, now staring stubbornly at the gym’s floor and refusing to meet his eyes.

“Yamazaki-senpai complimenting me? The world must be ending.” Hiyoshi snorts. The strain in his right arm suddenly feels less painful.

“It wasn't a compliment! Was just…stating…facts.” She mutters as if it physically pained her to say that. She has the sudden desire to become one with the floor now.

“Is that so?” Hiyoshi sighs with a quiet chuckle. “Well, I intend to do better than ‘well’—as you put it. Nothing will stop me from trying to return Atobe-san’s Tannhausers.” He states, rotating his dominant arm as he prepares to go for another round with the machine.

Yamazaki sighs and scratches her head. “I knew you’d say that.” She replies, then grabs a tennis ball from the basket.

“You got an extra racket?”

Hiyoshi blinks in surprise. “...You’re full of surprises today, senpai.” 

“Shut up and give me a damn racket, Hiyoshi.”

…

“...Are you gonna try to hit a Tannhauser, senpai?” Hiyoshi asks as he watches Yamazaki enter the court and go into a serving position across from him. “Doesn't that move take months to perfect?” 

Yamazaki was often forced (bribed with food) by Atobe to stay behind after school and club practice to keep track of his progress whenever he worked on a special move, which was why she stayed late earlier. She would record each shot and take notes on a worn-out notebook. She has like ten of these notebooks currently. 

“Atobe forced me to stay after practice to watch him perfect it, so I’ve seen it a thousand times. Should be easy enough, right?” She tosses the ball in the air. How hard could it be? 

“What–”

“Here I go…!” She swings her racket.

“WAIT-”

Hiyoshi scrambles to follow the ball’s direction. The ball’s trajectory is at a low angle, but not as low as Atobe’s Tannhauser would be. It still manages to bounce off the gym floor. 

Hiyoshi bends his arm at an awkward angle to try to return it, but he misses.

Holy shit.

His manager just casually copied the captain’s special move.

“...You managed to learn that by only watching him..?” Hiyoshi stares at the space on the court where the ball bounced off of. 

"Uh, yeah. Kinda." Yamazaki fidgets awkwardly, lightly hitting the floor with the tip of her shoe. 

Hiyoshi's always known this, but he's really come to realize how much of an enigma their manager is. He has no idea how she began to play tennis and be so good at it—because the average person cannot possibly casually copy the Hyotei captain's signature by just looking.

She's never even revealed anything about herself, yet she always listened to everyone's problems and offered advice if they wanted any.

Hell, even Atobe frequently relies on her. And that says a lot. The captain doesn't just openly trust people—and women too, at that. He doesn't blame him, though. He's handsome, stupidly rich, admired left and right, and his locker is always stuffed with gifts from girls around the school.

Finding a girl who actually isn't into Atobe was like finding a rare gem—and that gem was Yamazaki. The moment Atobe knew this, she was immediately appointed as the Hyotei men's tennis club's manager without inquiry about her tennis knowledge.

And here she is, standing awkwardly as of she hadn't copied the tennis captain's special move.

Hiyoshi smiles to himself. 'What a strange woman you are, Yamazaki-senpai.'

“It’s not as accurate as Atobe-san’s, but I’m impressed, senpai.” He states.

“Oi, I’m not even a tennis player. Gimme a break.” Yamazaki frowns.

Internally though, she’s just as shocked as him. She’d secretly been trying to copy the angle of Atobe’s serves in her room by rewinding the same clip of him serving three hundred times.

But Hiyoshi doesn't need to know that 

“Anyway,” she clears her throat. “If you bend your arm sideways like that, you’ll end up dislocating it.” She points out, copying what Hiyoshi did earlier when he attempted to return her shot. 

“That’s probably what you’ve been doing the entire time, right? Don't think I haven't noticed you trying to ignore the pain in your arm.” She scolds, pointing at his right arm with his racket that she’s using.

‘Always so perceptive, this woman.’ Hiyoshi looks at his right arm.

“How do you think I should return it?” He asks her.

“Mmm, I dunno.” She shrugs.

“What.”

“I said I dunno.”

“...”

What.

“Why did you even come here, senpai?” Hiyoshi sweatdrops.

“I was gonna tell you to go home ‘cuz it’s late.” Yamazaki replies. 

Hiyoshi facepalms. For being a manager with excellent tennis skills and knowledge, she sure can be an airhead.

“Not because you wanted to help me?” He asks.

“Well…did you want me to help you?” Yamazaki looks up at him. “Wasn't sure if you needed any help because you’re always doing things by yourself.” She states.

She isn't wrong. Hiyoshi tends to train alone most of the time and rarely asks for assistance due to his quiet, reserved nature. He’d often distance himself from the regulars to have some alone time. Which Yamazaki understands—everyone at Hyotei may look sophisticated but they’re all a bunch of idiots when you get to know them. Including Atobe. 

He’s the biggest idiot in Yamazaki’s book.

“I…” Hiyoshi opens his mouth, then closes it, seemingly struggling to make a decision.

Overthrowing Atobe had been his goal since elementary school. If he wants to beat him, he must step out of his comfort zone. He must ask for help. And who better to ask than the person who has seen the Tannhauser a hundred times?

“...yes. Please help me.”

Chapter Text

[Still 4 months ago, Hyotei Academy]

It’s 8PM. The sky had turned completely dark. The two had been at it for three hours. 

“Hiyoshi, I swear to god if you don't return this one I’m going to commit seppuku with your racket.” Yamazaki pants after hitting what seemed like her hundredth makeshift-Tannhauser serve, which Hiyoshi misses. Again.

“I’d rather you do it with someone else’s racket, senpai.” Hiyoshi grunts, using the collar of his shirt to wipe a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

‘This is getting nowhere.’ Hiyoshi thinks. He looks over to Yamazaki on the other side of the court. Yamazaki’s exhausted and she probably pushed herself beyond her limit just to help him be able to return a Tannhauser. Yet still no progress.

He stares at the net as he catches his breath. His vision blurs. Shit…

He squeezes his eyes shut and immediately sits down on the floor, taking in slow intakes of breath, then exhaling. He needs to think of something. Anything. 

“Hiyoshi?” Yamazaki lowered her arm as she was about to serve, surprised at Hiyoshi's sudden move.

Hiyoshi doesn't respond. His eyes stay closed. His palms rest atop his thighs and his elbows are relaxed. 

‘Yamazaki-senpai is giving her all to help me. If I can't do this, I won't be able to overtake Atobe-san. Senpai’s efforts will be in vain.’

That won't happen.

‘Is he meditating?’ Yamazaki thinks to herself. He seems to be looking for something–

“Yamazaki-senpai,” Hiyoshi calls her name, then opens his eyes with a look of determination.

“I think I know how to return it now.”

—

They stayed for so long they got yelled at by the campus security guard to go home.

“If my arm falls off, I’m gonna take yours as a replacement.” Yamazaki groans as they walk out of the locker rooms. She had never hit so many Tannhausers in her life. Or ever, to be frank. How the hell does Atobe do it? Tennis players are a different breed from normal folk. At least in this world.

“Bold of you to assume that mine won't fall off first. I had to return all your terrible serves.” Hiyoshi grunts. The weight of his school bag makes his shoulders ache. 

“Hah?! You try it serving a hundred of those Tannhausers, then!” Yamazaki barked. Their bickering continues as they walk to the school gates.

“Do you live nearby, senpai?” Hiyoshi asks as they approach the gate. Come to think of it, he’s never thought about how Yamazaki went home. He always thought she’d just…vanish into thin air and materialize at school in the morning.

“Yeah, my house is a fifteen minute walk from here.” Yamazaki answers, pointing to the direction of her residence.

Hiyoshi may be a cold and arrogant jerk towards the girls in school, but he is aware that it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that women walking alone at night is dangerous.

“...I’ll walk with you–”

“You take the bus home, don't you?” Yamazaki raises a brow as they stop in front of the gates. Shit, she caught him.

“...You don't know that.”

“You always come to morning practice at 6:53. And sometimes I see bus tickets in your bag.” Yamazaki states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“What are you, a stalker?” Hiyoshi sweatdrops. How the hell did she manage to even memorize what time he arrives to practice?

“Just being a manager doing manager things,” she shrugs. “Anyway, you were offering to walk me home, right? Don't bother.” She says.

“But–”

“You live in the opposite direction. If you walk me home, you’d come home late.” Yamazaki says, shooing him to his bus stop. “Quit worrying about me and worry about overthrowing Atobe as you always do.” She reaches up to pat his head, roughly ruffling his brown hair. 

"Ow."

“See ya.” She slaps his arm and walks towards the direction of her home.

"Ow."

“Ah wait, senpai,” Hiyoshi calls out to her before she leaves.

“Hm?” She turns towards him.

He does something unexpected. “...Thank you for helping me today.” Hiyoshi bows slightly. 

With her assistance, he’s gained a new skill. He’s now one step closer to overthrowing the one person he’s longed to surpass. 

And little did he know that it would become useful one day.

Yamazaki blinks in surprise at Hiyoshi’s uncharacteristic gratitude. The man was always too prideful of himself to express basic manners to his elders. But here he is—bowing and thanking her. She stands there for a few seconds to let his words process.

“...Bahah!” Yamazaki laughs. “Is the Hiyoshi Wakashi actually thanking someone? I think I’m seeing stars!” She cackles before turning back around to walk home.

“Don't bother thanking me. It’s not like you!” She calls out, waving without looking back.

Hiyoshi noticed something that day—Yamazaki is willing to help her friends, but she absolutely hates having to bother them.

—

[Present time, U-17 Camp]

“You helped Hiyoshi with that Tannhauser move, didn’t you?” Oshitari asks Yamazaki as they watch Hiyoshi and Atobe battle it out in drawn-out endurance matches.

“Perhaps.” Yamazaki shrugs with a knowing smirk.  “Maybe I wanted to see Atobe get thrown off. Just a little bit.” She says with a knowing smirk.

“‘Just a little bit’?” Shishido echoes her words. “You aren't expecting Hiyoshi to win, aren't you?” He raises a brow, watching her write down on her clipboard.

“Well, look who we're talking about.” She huffs in amusement as she watches Atobe not even breaking a sweat, returning Hiyoshi’s hits with that signature infuriating smirk of his.

“No one’s gonna expect that idiot to lose.” Yamazaki’s brow twitches in frustration as Atobe flaunts himself in the court.

As much as she wants Hiyoshi to win, she knows damn well that’s asking for the impossible.

—

“Bah–!” Tezuka returns Kaidoh’s shot with twice the amount of power, causing Kaidoh to play defensive. 

‘He’s drawing the game out.’ Yamazaki thinks as she looks over to their court. He’s purposely tiring Kaidoh out. He fell right into Tezuka’s trap and he hasn't even noticed it yet.

Tezuka constantly hits the ball towards the opposite side of where Kaidoh's currently standing, making him run side to side while Tezuka is just…standing there. The only movements he’s been doing around the court is pivoting in circles. He hasn't broken a single sweat, just like Atobe.

And whenever Kaidoh tries to play offense, Tezuka immediately shuts that down with an effortless return, leaving no openings.

The man’s merciless, but that’s how Tezuka always is. Ever since the beginning. Yamazaki smiles to herself. He’s ever so vigilant and never holds back on his opponents, no matter how strong or weak they are.

“Those guys are some monster captains. How could they do that to their successors?” Yamazaki hears a highschooler mutter nearby. “They should at least hold back a little on them, man. They’re just humiliating their juniors at this point.”

‘That’s exactly what you shouldn't do as a captain, you dumbass.’ Yamazaki thinks to herself. 

Atobe and Tezuka know their juniors’ strength, which is exactly why they’re pushing them to the limit. It’s merely a little preview for them for what’s to come once Hiyoshi and Kaidoh become captains next year.

“Six-zero, Tezuka.” Tezuka scores another point.

“Six-all, Hiyoshi!”

Hiyoshi scores a tiebreaker against Atobe. Unlike Kaidoh, Hiyoshi’s exceptionally catching up to his captain.

A second year playing defensively against his captain, and another second year neck and neck with his captain…

What a contrast.

“It’s not looking good for Seigaku over there.” Yamazaki points out, already writing down Kaidoh’s weaknesses onto her clipboard.

Kaidoh: Needs to work on his stamina. Leaves himself completely vulnerable when he’s tired. Needs to stop relying on his boomerang snake all the time.

“Yeah. He’s gonna have some pretty big shoes to fill in once Tezuka’s gone.” Oshitari agrees, watching Tezuka score another point against Kaidoh.

“Hmph, with that punk as Seigaku’s next captain, Hyotei will for sure be the champions next year with Hiyoshi.” Shishido scoffs at the sight.

The corner of Yamazaki's lips curve upwards into a tiny, barely there smile. "Yeah." She nods.

“We’re counting on you for that, Ootori, Kabaji.” Yamazaki turns and lightly smacks both Ootori and Kabaji’s arms.

“Usu.” Kabaji nods.

“Y-Yes! We won't let you down, senpai!” Ootori stammers, straightening up.

—

“Change courts!” The referees announce. The captain–successor duos walk over to switch sides.

“Tezuka,” Atobe calls out as he and Tezuka walk by each other.

“Hn?” Tezuka pauses in his tracks.

“Working hard, aren't we?” Atobe looks over his shoulder, smirking back at Tezuka.

“...Yeah. It seems we’re thinking the same thing.” Tezuka nods in agreement.

Atobe loses his smirk and his bros furrow. “However, with Hiyoshi leading Hyotei, we’ll win nationals next year.” He declares.

“No,” Tezuka adjusts his glasses. “With Kaidoh, he will lead Seigaku to a second victory.” He challenges.

…

‘What are they, prideful mothers showing their sons off?’ Yamazaki sweatdrops.

—

“There’s no sign of this match ending.” Shishido exclaims as Hiyoshi and Atobe constantly go back and forth against each other, consecutively racking up points.

This match isn't even about scoring points anymore. It’s play until you can't move anymore. 

‘Up until now, there’s always been a large gap between us—but this time, I will make up for it..!’ 

“28-all, Hiyoshi!” Hiyoshi lands another point.

“It’s time to defeat you and take your throne.” Hiyoshi declares and raises his left arm in front of him, entering his Enbu Tennis stance.

Atobe smirks and huffs in amusement.

“We’ll see about that.”

—

“Is this how you’re gonna go out, Viper?!” Momoshiro yells from the bleachers as Kaidoh loses his steam.

“Shit–!” Kaidoh slips on the field and accidentally lobs the ball. That’s definitely going to be out–

It gets pulled back into the court.

Tezuka activates his Tezuka Zone.

‘That ball was clearly going to be out. Kunimitsu saved it.’ Yamazaki observes. ‘If the ball landed out, Kaidoh would've already lost. The game would've already ended.’ Yamazaki notes.

He’s controlling how long the game should go on for. 

The ball is quite literally in Tezuka's court.

“Damn, he’s not letting Kaidoh escape.” Shishido mutters as Kaidoh’s shots keep getting pulled into the Tezuka Zone’s whirlwind. 

‘Are you mocking me, captain?’ Kaidoh’s eye twitches as Tezuka whirls the ball in with his Tezuka zone. Tezuka isn’t letting him score points, but he isn't letting him lose either. He’s been his pawn the entire game, always falling under his trap.

How much longer will he…

“TEZUKA, YOU BASTARD!”

—

“39-all, Atobe!”

Hiyoshi loses balance on his right leg and kneels down to catch his breath. This has been going on for forever.

All he needs is to be two points ahead to win, but Atobe always seems to catch up after every point he gets. The cycle repeats endlessly.

“That asshole,” Yamazaki mutters, looking at Atobe’s triumphant smirk while panting. “He’s doing it on purpose to rile Hiyoshi up.” 

It puts a high risk on his endurance, but Atobe tends to wear down his opponents mentally and physically before to make it easier for him to destroy them in the end. That's always been his playing style.

Hiyoshi and Kaidoh are at their limit. They don't know how much longer they can keep going. Their legs are moving faster than their minds.

‘Ah, I can't do this.’

Hiyoshi suddenly sits on the ground and crosses his legs, closing his eyes. He takes a deep breath in, and a slow breath out.

“Ahn?” Atobe raises a brow as he was about to serve. He stops bouncing the ball.

“..!” Yamazaki perks up from her seat. That’s…

‘That was the exact same thing he did when we were practicing the Tannhausers…’ Yamazaki blinks in surprise. For him to meditate in the middle of a game all of a sudden, Hiyoshi must be stressed.

Victory tends to start slipping away the moment you think about it. He’d been overthinking and has been focusing too much on the outcome of this game. Close-knit matches have always been Hiyoshi’s largest weakness. He feels pressured, then he mentally defeats himself.

He’s clearing his mind. Hiyoshi snaps his eyes open with a new expression on his face. All he needs to do is focus on the present, not the result.

“Heh,” Yamazaki huffs proudly as he stands back up. “That expression suits you, Hiyoshi.” She murmurs.

Atobe smirks after Hiyoshi finds himself. 

“It looks like you overcame the close matches you’ve always struggled with.” Atobe says, throwing the ball in the air to serve as Hiyoshi gets his mind back in the game.

Once you’re at the top, you’ll be targeted by everyone. But the person at the top must protect his seat at all costs.

“This is Hyotei tennis, and my beautiful technique–!” Atobe leaps into the air and…glows?

“Hyotei! Hyotei! Hyotei! Hyotei! Hyotei!”

“?!” Hiyoshi squints and hovers his hand over his eyes from the bright aura Atobe is emitting.

Yamazaki blinks in confusion.

…the hell?

Is that…the Hyotei cheer?

The other tennis players look around to see where that cheering is coming from. No one around is cheering nor yelling.

“Hyotei! Hyotei! Hyotei! Hyotei! Hyotei!”

“A-am I hearing things…?” Ootori cups his ear to listen to the sound of cheering. Is that sound…coming from Atobe? 

“No…I hear it too…” Oshitari exclaims.

No fucking way.

“I must be dead. Yes. That’s the only logical explanation.” Yamazaki deadpans, watching as Atobe still floats in the air while glowing. He's been up there for more than five seconds. 

“This is my parting gift to you—Rondo Towards Destruction!” Atobe yells as he aims the ball towards Hiyoshi’s racket, knocking it off. When it bounces back towards him, he finishes the game off by smashing it down.

…

“Game and match, Atobe: 47-45!”

Hiyoshi looks at his racket lying on the field, then sighs. That was it, huh?

“Oi Hiyoshi,” Atobe bumps his racket against Hiyoshi’s behind. “Find your own Hyotei cheer.” He smirks, nodding at him before walking off the court to the benches.

“Ah…yes.” Hiyoshi nods with a subtle smile.

Huh. He should be upset that he wasn't able to overthrow Atobe in the end, but why is he feeling satisfied right now? Hiyoshi huffs a smile and picks up his racket, following after the captain.

Some people aren't just meant to be beaten.

Yamazaki writes on her clipboard:

Atobe: Risks his endurance to prolong the match and tire out his opponents + Also glows??? 

Note: Tell him to stop that.

Chapter Text

“Fuck!” Kaidoh curses as he suddenly regains strength and energy, hitting the ball with all his might now. Tezuka seemed to have woken him up from his trance.

“He’s unleashed a hidden powder he didn't know he had.” Fuji observes as Kaidoh roars to return Tezuka’s shot with a boomerang snake.

He knows he's going to lose. He’s up against Tezuka fucking Kunimitsu, after all. But he still chooses to keep going. Not that he had a chance to escape, anyway. This was eventually going to happen one day.

Kaidoh just didn't expect it to happen so soon.

“Tezuka’s always given Kaidoh some extra tough love,” Inui notes, remembering how Tezuka would make Kaidoh run extra laps and do more sets during training regimens after club activities.

Yet Tezuka would always stay behind with him. 

“He’s always been keeping an eye on him,” Oishi smiles softly. “But that’s only because he wants Kaidoh to be prepared to take on the role as captain next year.” He adds, watching Kaidoh leap towards the ball Tezuka lobbed.

That’s just how Tezuka tends to express that he cares. In his own quiet, unique way.

“Get it, viper!” Momoshiro cheers.

“D’ah–!” Kaidoh gains what little momentum he has left and smashes the ball down onto Tezuka’s side of the court with all his strength.

But Tezuka effortlessly breaks the smash with a  drop shot. 

The ball lands on Kaidoh’s side, and rolls towards the net.

Tezuka’s zero-shiki drop shot.

“Game and match, Tezuka: 7-0.”

“Ooh, yikes.” Yamazaki cringes at the large point difference between the second-year and the captain. A crushing defeat. Kaidoh hadn’t landed a single point against Tezuka. That’s a big humiliation.

“Yeah, that one’s gotta sting for Kaidoh.” Shishido adds. “Really shows their skill difference, huh?” He says. “Makes you think how he’ll do as captain next year.”

There really are some people you just can't beat, huh?

“Hahaha…HA HA HA HA!” Kaidoh begins to laugh as his legs give out on him. Tezuka watches him blankly from across the court. The tennis players from the bleachers watch him laugh maniacally in silence.

“Oi, the guy’s finally lost it.” Mukahi whispers.

“Of course he’d lose it. He didn't score a single point.” Oshitari looks at Kaidoh laughing menacingly without a care.

“Why isn't anyone calling an exorcist–”

“Ha ha ha hah…” Kaidoh’s laughs come to a stop, then he exhales.

He had no chance against him. There was no way Tezuka was going to walk out of this camp. 

Kaidoh knew from the very beginning that it would be him.

“Kaidoh,” 

Tezuka walks up to the net and holds his hand out.

“That was the best match I’ve ever played with you.” He smiles gently at him.

Kaidoh stands up, looking at his captain in surprise before nodding. His hand meets his with a firm shake.

“Thank you very much.” 

Kunimitsu: Stubborn? But brings out the best in his opponents.

—

“Well? You think you’ll get any good data?” Coach Tsuge asks Coach Saito after watching the two matches unfold.

“Hmm~ I’ll think I’ll manage,” Coach Saito smiles as he watches the two captains talk to their juniors.

“But I’m sure our little helper will provide us with enough data later~” He turns to look at the Hyotei manager approaching the current and future Hyotei captains, informing them of what they need to work on.

Coach Tsuge raises a brow as he looks at the girl.

“You mentioned that she's the younger sister of No.6, didn't you?” He asks the taller coach. As he observes her, he notices that she does have similar physical attributes with that person. It's no mistake that they're related.

“Mm, yeah. Didn’t expect her to actually come, though,” Coach Saito nods as the girl hands Atobe a water bottle.

“Do you think she's as insane as he is?” He then asks Coach Tsuge.

“...Let's hope not.”

—

“Atobe, again—you're always risking your endurance to prolong the game. Stop trying to torment your poor opponents. They already know they can't beat you,” Yamazaki scolds, reading the notes from her clipboard as Atobe drinks from his water bottle.

Hiyoshi feels himself being struck with a metaphorical arrow at that comment.

“Senpai, could you have worded that any bet–”

“Hmph, and miss out on seeing the fear on their faces when they know they’re doomed? Yeah, no.” Atobe huffed, pushing his hair back with his hand.

“I mean it, you bastard,” she lightly smacks his arm. “It’s good to push others to their limits and all, but what if your opponent’s limit exceeds yours? You could’ve passed out back there.” She scolds. Atobe merely huffs in response, knowing she’s right but he’s too stubborn to admit it.

“–Also, that weird glowing thing you did at the end? Whatever that was, turn it off. Forever.” Yamazaki deadpans. 

“Heh,” Atobe scoffs. “You’re all just envious that my beauty transcends reality–”

“You nearly blinded everyone.” Hiyoshi and Yamazaki deadpan in unison.

“Then wear sunglasses next time,” Atobe shrugs as if that was the most logical solution. “Kabaji, remind me to provide the crowd with sunglasses every time I play next time. And make them all Balenciaga.” He tells Kabaji.

‘Rich men and their ridiculous amounts of money.’ Hiyoshi and Yamazaki sweatdrop.

“Usu.” Kabaji nods, writing it down on a notepad.

“...anyways—Hiyoshi, great job catching up to Atobe,” she reaches up to pat the taller man’s head and ruffles his hair, then immediately regrets it. 

“Ew, why did I do that. You’re all sweaty.” Her face scrunches up in disgust as she retracts her hand after feeling the sweat all over his head, wiping her palm against his shirt.

“It would be concerning if I wasn't, senpai.” Hiyoshi replies dryly as he watches Yamazaki wipe her hand on his shirt that’s probably just as drenched in sweat.

“Don't get smart with me,” Yamazaki retorts. “You got too excited at the fact that you finally got to play against Atobe’s sadistic ass, and because of that you kept anticipating the outcome which made you lose focus.” Yamazaki states bluntly, accurately firing off the list of faults he made during the match.

Another metaphorical arrow stabs Hiyoshi. How is she so damn perceptive?

“You got that sadistic part right.” Atobe huffs proudly. Yamazaki rolls her eyes.

“If you meditated out of nowhere in the world cup, you would've been reprimanded by the referees.” She adds. “Meditate before you play. Not during, dumbass.” She gently bonks his head with her clipboard.

“But other than that, good work. I’m proud of you. Now where’s Kaidoh–”

“Wait, senpai. Did you just say that you’re proud of me–”

“WHERE’S KAIDOH.”

“Oi, get back here. Why are you proud of Hiyoshi but not me?” Atobe huffs and yanks her back before she could run away. 

Tezuka and the other Seigaku members from the other side of the bleachers watch Hiyoshi and Atobe prevent their manager from running off. 

“HARASSMENT! SEXUAL HARASSMENT! MOLESTATION!” Yamazaki shrieks as the rest of the other Hyotei members tap in and circle around her to trap her. 

“Um, shouldn't we help her?” Kawamura sweatdrops watching the poor 5 foot 3 manager getting surrounded by men over 5 foot 7. 

“She looks like an explorer lost in a forest.” Momoshiro mutters to Echizen, which makes him snicker.

Tezuka looks at Yamazaki cowering and shrieking like an animal at her teammates’ teasing. He closes his eyes and huffs silently in amusement.

‘Easily scared as always.’

Catching his members by surprise, Tezuka walks over to the Hyotei members. 

“Maki,” he calls out.

…?!

"MAKI?!” The seigaku members’ jaws drop at Tezuka’s very rare use of first-name basis. He’s never called someone on a first-name basis. Not even his closest friends. Not even Oishi.

The Hyotei members along with Yamazaki freeze up at the sound of Tezuka’s bass voice, then they turn towards him like rotating gas station hotdogs. Tezuka stiffens up.

“...Can I speak with Maki?” He asks cautiously.

A wave of intense staring commences.

…

“Will you return her back in one piece?” Mukahi stares at him like a meerkat.

Tezuka blinks in confusion. “...Yes. Of course.”

The Hyotei boys then huddle for a two-second strategy meeting then part like the red sea in synchronization, giving way for him and Yamazaki. 

Tezuka examines Yamazaki and she’s– the papers from her clipboard have fallen out halfway so she’s holding some of the papers between her legs that are awkwardly squeezed together to keep them from falling. Her eyeballs move side to side, up and down, in all directions except forward.

‘Oh fuck.’

Shit.

Bitch.

‘He’slookingatme.’

“...” The Seigaku members watch in suspense from a distance.

Tezuka just…stands there with an unreadable expression beneath the glare of his glasses while the poor Hyotei manager is on the verge of a breakdown with her Disney knees.

The silence is unbearable. The only sounds heard are the faint crumpling of paper between Yamazaki's legs. She's frozen like a deer in headlights.

‘Maybe if I stay still, he won't see me–’

“WHY IS HE JUST STANDING THERE?!” Oishi facepalms, breaking the painful silence. “Go help her!” He yells at Tezuka.

“...this might actually be the first time I’ve seen the Captain be speechless.” Echizen blinks in shock.

“...”

Tezuka clears his throat with a cough.

“...Maki–”

“yEs!” Yamazaki’s voice cracks pathetically when she immediately responds, making both her and Tezuka flinch in surprise. The papers fall out from between her legs.

Again, Tezuka’s expression is unreadable beneath the glare of his glasses.

Mukahi has to stuff his fist in his mouth to muffle his laughter. Shishido’s muttering ‘super lame’ under his breath.

They can practically see Yamazaki’s soul leaving her body.

“Washroom, yes.” They hear her mutter to herself, walking away from Tezuka and her teammates with stiff limbs.

Tezuka was not able to talk to Yamazaki in the end.

—

[U-17 Camp, Dormitory]

“Ootori, do me a favour and land a scud serve on my head.” Yamazaki mumbles pathetically against the pillows in Shishido, Ootori, Kikumaru, and Oishi’s dorm room.

Before Tezuka could even speak to her back there at the courts, she thought it would be a good idea to make a strategic retreat to the washrooms in the dorms. Like a damn coward. What she usually does to avoid socializing. The marble sinks looked like it was made to bang her head onto.

“Yamazaki-san, what did we say about such negative thoughts?” Ootori scolds sitting next to her, watching his manager trying to suffocate herself with his blanket next.

“That I should immediately kill myself–”

“No, dumbass,” Shishido throws a pillow at her from where he’s seated at the desk. “Though I gotta admit, what happened back there was super lame.” He rests his arm against the back of his chair.

“You’re super lame,” she throws the pillow back at Shishido, knocking his cap off his head.

It was the first time they’ve interacted with each other since nationals, and the first sight Tezuka got to see her in was…her hitting the Disney knees. To prevent papers from falling.

Yamazaki will never recover.

She shouldn't have gone to this god forsaken camp.

“Why’re you even in our room? Can't you harass someone else with your girl talk?” Shishido clicks his tongue and scratches his head in annoyance, snatching his fallen cap off the floor.

“I wanted Ootori to comfort me. And you just happened to be here, I guess.” Yamazaki shrugs, sitting up on Ootori’s bed and leaning against his side. Ootori naturally supports her weight.

“I didn't ‘just happen’ to be here. This is literally my room, idiot.” Shishido retorts.

“Then go take a walk or work out or something! The weather’s nice outside!”

“LOOK WHO’S TALKING–”

“Now now, Shishido-san, Yamazaki-san,” Ootori laughs awkwardly to relieve the tension between his two short-tempered senpais. Although it may seem that Shishido and Mukahi are always arguing with each other, it is actually Shishido and Yamazaki that argue the most out of Hyotei to the point no one even bats an eye to it. Well, except Ootori, because he’s Ootori.

He’s maybe starting to think that Shishido’s the problem-

The door then flies open revealing Oishi and Kikumaru in their pyjamas fresh from a bath at the hot springs.

“Hunya~? What’s Hyotei’s manager-chan doing in our room?” Kikumaru tilts his head in curiosity at the sight of the girl who is currently trying to hide behind the lamp post known as Ootori like a frightened cat.

 “Ah, you two, just in time,” Shishido beckons them to sit. “Yamazaki was just telling us about how pathetically in love she is wiTH–”

Shishido gets cut off by a flying slipper thrown to his gut with suspicious accuracy from the manager, knocking the wind out of him. Oishi and Kikumaru’s jaws drop.

“Damn you…” Shishido heaves, clutching his stomach like he just got stabbed.

“–in love with the two little strands on Oishi-kun’s hairline, is what he meant.” Yamazaki deflects, standing to take her slipper back.

Oishi lights up. “R-really?! I was thinking of growing it out! You really think so???”

“No.” Yamazaki responds almost immediately. 

“Oh…” Oishi deflates.

“D-don't mind, Oishi!” Kikumaru comforts the dejected Seigaku vice-captain. “Those hair strands are very important…! Yes! Important for your egg-shaped head!”

“Oi, even I wouldn't say that to my doubles partner.” Shishido cringes.

Oishi seems to deflate even further. 

With a sigh, Yamazaki stuffs her hands in the pockets of her sweatpants and walks out of their room.

“Ah! Yamazaki-san! What about Te–”

“What about who, Ootori-kun?” Yamazaki pauses at the doorway and turns to look at him with eyes that could probably burn him to nothing but dust particles if she stared for two more seconds.

“N-nothing!” Ootori clams up and frantically shakes his head side to side. “Have a nice evening!” 

—

[5:04 AM, Dormitory]

Yamazaki can't sleep. 

In her pink blankets and pink pillows and pink sheets and pink everything.

She’d been awake for 7 hours in bed, staring into nothing but the ceiling and the obnoxiously Hello Kitty shaped clock mounted on the wall, replaying her interaction with Tezuka over and over as if she’s counting sheep.

But unlike counting sheep, it hasn't given her a wink of sleep.

‘What did he even want to say to me?’ She thinks to herself.

She’d been trying so hard to remember the face he made when he saw her looking so pathetic, but all she could remember was the bright glare of his glasses blocking his facial expression. 

And eventually she thought too hard and it became 5 AM. Shit.

She still needs to observe the second batch of elimination matches tomorrow, but given her current situation, that’s logically impossible without the use of coffee—which Yamazaki avoids like the plague after a traumatic food poisoning incident involving coffee at a cafe Mukahi brought her along to (she learned that day to never take any of Mukahi’s recommendations).

She has no choice. Energy drinks will have to do to keep her functioning for tomorrow–no, today.

Yamazaki, in her mismatched socks, drags herself out of her offensively pink habitat (for the time being) with the hair of what looks like a bird’s nest. 

‘No one’s gonna be awake at this hour anyways’ she thinks to herself, hand under her shirt to scratch her stomach as she shuffles down the dark halls to the vending machine near the dorm’s cafeteria.

She makes her way to the vending machine, eyes squinting at the bright light it emits as she fishes for spare change in her pocket.

Her finger hovers in circles around two separate buttons. 

‘Hmmm, Red Bull or Monster–’

“I wouldn't be drinking that so early in the morning if I were you.”

“Leave me be. Some of us were unfortunately thinking about a man until 4am–wait huh?”

She turns around to the all–too familiar sound of the voice and freezes like a scared goat. She’s suddenly aware of her bird’s nest of hair and her mismatched socks. Speaking of said man, Tezuka had been standing right behind her for who knows how long. He’s without his glasses and has a towel loosely wrapped around his neck.

Yamazaki puts on a deep voice. "...I think you're mistaken–”

“Maki, it may be dark and I may not have my glasses on, but I can tell that it’s you. Don't pretend to be another person now.”

Fuck.

Is this what Kaidoh felt like when Tezuka cornered him in their match? Because she has nowhere to fucking run to right now.

“Uh…good morning?” She smiles wobbly.

“...indeed. Good morning.” 

Tezuka’s face is unreadable again. He adjusts his glasses and sighs.

“Do you drink those regularly?” His brows furrow. He gives her a look that he would usually give to his members if they were seen goofing off instead of practicing.

“N-no,”

Tezuka’s brows narrow even further “You stuttered. Are you lying to me?”

“I-I really don't! Really!” Yamazaki waves her hands frantically at the skeptical man. “I swear on my future firstborn!”

Tezuka’s stern expression now morphs into a face of confusion. “...Firstborn?” He blinks.

“Don't worry about it.”

“...you have a child?” Tezuka asks in a now concerned tone. Yamazaki wants to become one with this vending machine now. That’s what he wants to focus on??

“Oh my god, no, Kunimitsu.” Yamazaki facepalms. “It was just an expression.” She waves him off. For someone who is so academically and athletically intelligent, he can be quite dense when it comes to humour.

But that’s what makes him so cute–

What? Who said that? Definitely not her. 

Must've been the wind.

Chapter Text

“Wh-what’re you doing up so early anyways?” Yamazaki crosses her arms and makes a sharp 180° turn to face the vending machine to avoid making eye-contact with Tezuka. It’s 5AM and it’s too damn early to be graced with the presence of a pretty boy right now.

“Ahem, I feel that I should be the one asking that question,” Tezuka replies with a clear of his throat. 

Dammit, Yamazaki can feel his stare burning through the back of her head without even needing to look back to check. “If you wanted to know though, I had just finished showering and was on my way to the gym to train.” He adds.

He’s insane, Yamazki sweat drops as she looks at the vending machine’s selection. Who in their right mind would even voluntarily wake up before sunrise? People who have their life together are terrifying creatures.

But then again, this is Tezuka Kunimitsu. He’s handsome, disciplined, has perfect grades, and is exceptionally skilled at whatever he does even outside of tennis. He’d be the perfect son-in-law for aunties looking for potential husbands to marry their daughters off to.

“And why are you choosing to drink heavily caffeinated drinks at…5:17AM?” Tezuka flips open his phone to check the time. Tezuka has a monotonous tone to his voice, but even Yamazaki can tell he was clearly judging her life choices right now.

“I uh, couldn’t sleep earlier.” She muttered under her breath.

“And you suppose drinking an energy drink would put you to sleep?” Tezuka raises a brow. Oh my god he’s too concerned for his own good. 

“No, Kunimitsu. I know how energy drinks work.” Yamazaki’s brow twitches in annoyance, shoving coins into the vending machine’s coin slot with more force than necessary.

“It’s just that I–” hold that thought. She stops talking abruptly, then blinks in realization.

How in the world is she going to tell him that she couldn't sleep because she’d been thinking about him the entire night without actually telling him that she couldn't sleep because she’d been thinking about him the entire night??

She turns. Slowly, like a rotating kebab, to face Tezuka again. Who’s tilted his head at an angle in confusion at her sudden pause.

“Well?” Tezuka pried, still waiting for an answer.

“I…uh–”

“WAAACHEEOWW!”

A thunderous sneeze from nearby makes the two jolt in surprise.

Yamazaki’s eyes narrow skeptically. She could recognize that earthquake of a sneeze from anywhere.

“...It seems that we’re not the only ones awake at this hour.” Tezuka clears his throat once more and adjusts his glasses.

“...Yes. Indeed.” Yamazaki agrees stiffly, staring at a two particularly interesting couches nearby that’s emitting terribly whispered yelling.

…

“Mukahi you dumbass! Why’d you have to sneeze?!” Shishido whisper-yells, smacking Mukahi’s face as they hide behind the couches with a defeated Oshitari and an anxious Ootori.

“Nice going, you fool. Now we’re gonna get murdered.” Oshitari sighs and facepalms, suddenly regretting that he came along with these idiots. Yamazaki’s going to kill them. He’s resigned to his fate.

“I couldn't hold it in!” Mukahi pipes back at the two while holding his cheek marked with a stinging red handprint.

“Shh! Don't be so loud, senpai!” Ootori tries to shush Mukahi’s terrible attempt at whispering down while frantically looking around the area for any sign of Yamazaki.

“What, am I not allowed to snee-”

“Explain.”

Shishido, Oshitari, Ootori, and Mukahi all stiffen up as if they were deer in headlights.

‘She’s right behind us, isn't she?’

They turn behind to see Yamazaki glaring daggers at them over the couches, arms crossed over her chest meanwhile a perplexed Tezuka stands behind her in confusion.

“What are you all doing there?” Tezuka blinks at the four cowering Hyotei members in confusion.

“Y-Yamazaki! W-with Tezuka! What a pleasantly unexpected surpri- OW” Mukahi gets smacked again by Shishido.

“I’m giving you five seconds to explain.” She stares menacingly at the four with a look that could probably wither plants.

Oshitari is the first to say something. Having experienced Yamazaki’s wrath throughout a number of practices, he swallows his nerves and the only thing he was able to spit out was–

“We were conducting…a wellness check. On you.”

“...”

What.

“Uh-huh,” Yamazaki’s eyes narrowed into slits. Like hell is she believing that. “You know Oshitari, for a man that’s known for being the brains of this team, your brain sure isn't braining right now.” She retorted. 

The emotional damage almost made Oshitari’s glasses shatter.

“It’s true!” Shishido jumps in, suspiciously nodding way too quickly, “y’know, we were just…making sure our manager wasn't overdosing on caffeine! Because you always do!”

A metaphorical arrow stabs through Yamazaki at Shishido’s comment. Her eye twitches uncontrollably. He’s not wrong though—Yamazaki often relies on caffeine to power through activities. Merely because her teammates have the energy of wild rabbits. 

Totally not because she's unfit and hates exercising.

“Totally not stalker behaviour!” Mukahi adds in, thinking that would help. Ootori facepalms. 

“Mukahi-senpai, please stop talking-”

Yamazaki pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out the slowest exhale humanly possible. “You idiots were spying on us.”

“We weren't!”

“You were.”

Tezuka, who’s still trying to process this entire scenario, glances at Yamazaki. “I wasn't aware that Hyotei would be this…”

“Pathetic? Miserable? Pitiful? Lamentable?” Yamazaki finishes his sentence. Each word seems to land a direct emotional hit on each Hyotei member. 

“No wonder that lanky coach wanted her to work for him.” Shishido mutters under his breath.

“Ahem, I was going to say…passionate.” Tezuka clears his throat.

“...that’s one way to put it.” Yamazaki gives a hollow, thousand-yard stare.

…

A minute of silence. It’s so quiet that the wind outside can be heard blowing. No one knows what to say or even do next in this situation. The four boys behind the couches are just anticipating for their manager to finally strike until-

*VVVVRRR*

Saved by some divine karmic justice, the vending machine spits out the forgotten Red Bull that Yamazaki bought. With a sigh, she uncrosses her arms to go get it. Oshitari secretly thanks whichever god that granted this divine intervention.

They all watch her take a long and somewhat aggressive sip like she’s a relapsed alcoholic trying to drink her problems away. 

‘It’s 5AM and the second day of the camp hasn't even started yet. I should’ve stayed home when I had the chance.’ Yamazaki stares into the distance as she makes an attempt to drink her way out of this entire morning.

“...I take it you won't be heading back to sleep?” Tezuka asks dryly, breaking the awkward silence.

She sighs. “Not unless Ootori offers to knock me out with his scud serve first.”

“Huh–"

“Would you like to join me at the gym, then?” Tezuka offers in his usual calm, straightforward tone. As if he’s forgetting that the four other guys are still behind the couches. And the fact that Yamazaki is running on zero sleep.

Yamazaki stares at him, then at her drink, then at the four idiots crouched at the couches mouthing “Say yes. SAY YES.”

Then back at Tezuka who’s waiting patiently for her response. And doesn't seem to realize how she’s barely functioning right now. Or how warm her face is getting. Or how flustered she is at how nonchalantly he invited her.

“...fine. Only because I need to hit something.”

The Hyotei boys collectively gasp. “IS THAT A YES TO A DATE–”

*BONK*

Yamazaki throws her empty can square at Mukahi’s forehead before rushing out the scene.

“WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?!”

Chapter Text

[5:28AM, Fitness Room, U-17 Camp]

“...you’re out of shape.” Tezuka observes Yamazaki as she heaves and wheezes after running on the treadmill for merely three minutes. Endurance and stamina were never her strong suit. It’s a joke compared to all the athletes of this camp. Thank the heavens she wasn't invited as a player. 

She’d quite literally pass away if she were to participate in the training regimens for the players. Even the thought of having to do push ups makes her shudder.

“Quiet, you.” Yamazaki grunts between bated breaths as she rests her hands on her knees. “Some of us—hah—aren't sports freaks like you, hah…” she heaves, using the towel around her neck to wipe the sweat accumulated on her face.

“It doesn't take a sports freak to run for longer than three minutes, Maki.” Tezuka replied matter of factly, looking calm and collected as ever despite finishing a twenty minute run. It pisses her off that he's always right.

“I said quiet.” She spat back with flushed cheeks, whether it be from embarrassment or her exhaustion, no one will know. Perhaps both.

“Why’d you even ask me to come with you? You know I’m not an active person. Never have been.” Yamazaki asks Tezuka as he takes a sip of water from his water bottle. Damn it, even him drinking water is so attractive–

“I simply…wanted to talk to you.” He answered, not exactly meeting Yamazaki’s eyes when he replied.

Yamazaki drops her towel.

“Hah?” Her eyes widen like saucers. Did she just hear that correctly?

He wanted to…talk? To her? 

“I thought that it would be a good opportunity  to catch up on things during our time apart.” Tezuka elaborates, adjusting his glasses with slightly more force than necessary. Yamazaki swears she can see some pink dusting the tips of his ears.

“...is that bad?” He asks, his normally composed tone raising a tad bit with slight concern, thinking he overstepped.

Is he…nervous?

Holy shit that's adorable.

“Oh. Yes– ah wait, shit–no! No it’s not! Not at all!” Yamazaki shakes her head and waves her hands frantically to reassure him.

“Catching up! Yes! What friends who haven't seen each other in a while do!” She blurts out helpfully, then immediately wishes she could stuff a dumbbell in her mouth for spewing such nonsense.

“Indeed.” He nodded.

“...”

“...”

More excruciating silence. 

‘How long is this going to keep happening?!’

“So–”

“Oi, is Yamazaki here?” The door slams open revealing Atobe, then he pauses in bewilderment seeing the two together. Tezuka and Yamazaki stare at him.

Then the bastard smirks. “Heh, you two move fast, ahn?” Atobe tosses his head back arrogantly. “You two are so antisocial, I never thought I’d see the day where you actually talk properly.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. His cunning remarks make Tezuka and Yamazaki’s eyes twitch in unison.

“Atobe if you don't stop talking in two seconds–”

“I’m not antisocial.” Tezuka disagrees firmly.

“That’s what you’re focusing on?!”

“Anyway,” Atobe walks towards the two while sweeping his fringe back one-handed, “sorry to ruin your date, Tezuka, but I need to steal her for a bit.” He places a palm on Yamazaki’s head.

“Kidnapping.” Yamazaki accuses, trying to swat Atobe’s hand off her head.

“It’s not kidnapping if I’m asking for the other party’s consent, aren't I?” Atobe chuckles, then releases his hand. 

“It's not a date, and you shouldn't need to ask me. She’s in your team, after all.” Tezuka replies, watching their interaction in silent interest.

“Oh?” Atobe perks up and raises a brow. “Is that pettiness I hear, Tezuka?” His amused smirk makes Tezuka’s expression harden cautiously. One of the many things he knows about Atobe is that he’ll always see an opportunity to purposely rile others up for his entertainment. “I won't be taking too long with her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I wasn't worried about anything.” Tezuka denies and takes his gym bag. “We were just about to finish up, so you came at the right time.” He says while placing his water bottle and towel inside, ready to leave.

Heh, he thinks Atobe wouldn't notice the furrow in his brow. He’s suddenly shy after getting caught.

“Huh?” is all Yamazaki manages, her brain scrambling to catch up. But didn't he say he wanted to catch up with her???

“I’ll see you both at the courts.” Tezuka slings his bag over his shoulder, nods to Yamazaki, then leaves the fitness room, leaving the two to just stand there.

“...”

What the hell was that about? First he said he wanted to catch up with her, and now he’s up and gone just like that?

“Heh, he’s annoyed.” Atobe huffs in smug satisfaction, still looking at the door Tezuka exited from.

“I’d be annoyed too seeing your face first thing in the morning,” Yamazaki scoffed, stuffing her hands in her pockets. She’s secretly annoyed that they got interrupted, but Atobe doesn't need to know that. She'll never hear the end of it from him.

“That’s not why he was annoyed and you know it.” He glances down at her, eyes gleaming with mischief. Yamazaki scowls at him in return. “Also, it’s hard to believe that you actually agreed to work out. Love makes you do strange things, doesn't it?”

“You talk too much.”

“Part of my charm.”

—

“What did you need me for, anyway?” Yamazaki asks as she’s on her second can of Red Bull (she never got her beauty sleep in the end) while walking with Atobe along the dorm’s halls.

“Ahn? Isn’t it obvious?” Atobe raises a brow. “Or did you forget that today’s when the losers will leave the camp?”

Yamazaki spits out her drink, then firmly grasps his arm. “WHAT.”

“No one told you?” Atobe pauses mid-walk, his composure faltering slightly for a millisecond.

“NO??!” Yamazaki's voice cracks. All that morning grumpiness she had earlier is now replaced by alarm at the sudden news. “I thought they’d be staying for at least two more days or something!” 

“You–” Atobe sighs in exasperation at his frazzled manager. “Did you forget what that coach said before the elimination matches?” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

Shit. He’s right. Yamazaki clutches her forehead, then her gaze lowers. Coach Saito’s words now replay in her mind—

‘Those who lose will drop out of the camp immediately.’

She just didn't think it would be so soon.

Hiyoshi, Kabaji, Shishido, and Mukahi. They’re all leaving. 

Only her, Atobe, Ootori, Oshitari, and Akutagawa will be left.

“Don't look so distraught. It doesn't suit you.” Atobe suddenly flicks her forehead as if to get rid of whatever negative thoughts she’s having.

“Ow.”

“They have until sunrise before their bus comes to take them, so you still have some time to see them off.” He reassured Yamazaki before removing her (painful) grip on his arm and continuing the walk, tossing his head over his shoulder to make sure she follows. 

Atobe knows that no matter how snarky Yamazaki is towards the boys, he knows that they’re her most prized treasures. She’s at her happiest when she’s with everyone, no matter how much she says otherwise. It’s one of the few things only a team captain can see.

“Is that why you came to get me then? To say…goodbye?” She asks, the usual fire in her voice dimming into something softer.

“Fool. You're making it sound like we're heading to their funerals,” Atobe sighs then runs a hand through his hair. He’s not used to seeing Yamazaki being sentimental. Nor is he good at comforting.

“If that’s how you want to call it. I prefer the term ‘sending off’, though. Don't you think?” He reaches to confiscate the half-empty can of Red Bull that Yamazaki had been fiddling with to throw it in the trash. 

“Oi, that was 300 yen–”

“Christssakes, what took you so long to get her, Atobe?” Shishido’s voice interrupts. Yamazaki looks up and just notices that Atobe brought her to one of the dorm’s lobbies. She hadn't realized that she’d been looking down at the floor their entire walk.

The whole team’s here, sitting on the couches. Atobe probably called them all to gather.

“You guys…”

“You look like a walking corpse, Yamazaki-senpai.” Hiyoshi states bluntly from his seat. 

“And the moment's ruined. Thanks, Hiyoshi.” Oshitari sighs, then pats the empty space next to him and Hiyoshi, gesturing for Yamazaki to sit.

Once Yamazaki takes her seat, Atobe remains standing as he stands before his team—his team that will split in half in a few hours.

“Now that we're all here, I’m sure you know what we're about to discuss.”

Chapter Text

“Now that we're all here, I’m sure you know what we're about to discuss.” Atobe's eyes move to the four losing members, then to the manager who’s fiddling with her fingers.

Atobe surveys the room, eyes narrowing slightly. “Kabaji, Mukahi, Hiyoshi, Shishido,” he starts, his tone calm but weighty, “you all fought well. But you’re well aware that this camp isn’t known for second chances.”

Mukahi merely scoffs in response, planting his chin against his palm.

“Still doesn't make it any less lame.” Shishido mutters, elbow resting on the couch’s arm rest.

“Usu.” Kabaji nods in agreement.

“Yeah, it doesn't,” Atobe nods in acknowledgment at his words and doesn't argue. “But it’s not about pride now. We're past that already. It’s about what you do next.” His expression hardens.

“Is this a pep talk or a eulogy speech, captain?” Hiyoshi looks to Atobe. Witty as always, Hiyoshi. Yamazaki’s glad his loss against Atobe hasn't brought that spirit of his down.

Atobe chuckles under his breath. “Neither. I just don't want any of us walking out of here with regrets. We’ve fought together for years. And though some of you won't be continuing past today, that doesn't mean that your efforts have gone to waste.”

Then, he turns to Yamazaki.

“You’re their manager. Say something.” He orders—not rudely, but as if allowing her to speak her true feelings that she’s kept buried under.

Yamazaki stiffens, suddenly aware that all eyes are on her now.

She swallows. “I’m…you all know I’m not good at this crap,” she starts, nervously clutching the fabric of her pants.

Ootori shifts in his seat. “I think what Yamazaki-san wants to say is that…we’re going to miss you.” He says gently, his voice sincere. “The camp won't be the same without all of us together.”

Silence. Except Akutagawa's snoring.

Yamazaki silently nods in agreement.

“Oi Choutarou, don't go crying on us now, it’s super lame.” Shishido clicks his tongue. He’s clearly affected but refusing to acknowledge it. “S’not like we're dying or anything. We’ll be back.”

“And when we are, we’ll win.” Hiyoshi adds in coolly.”

“The winner will be Hyotei.” Kabaji nods.

Yamazaki swallows hard. She wants to believe them. She wants to say something snarky to lighten the mood. But the lump in her throat prevents her from doing so. 

“...you all better be back.” She manages to say quietly. “Or I’ll kill you.”

“That’s more like you,” Oshitari chuckles beside her.

Atobe steps forward to stand in front of her. “We all knew this day would come,” then glances at the rest of the team. “But that doesn't make it easier, doesn't it?” His gaze returns to Yamazaki who’s still looking down at her lap.

“So stop sulking and say what you really want to say, Yamazaki. You’ll regret it if you don't.” 

“Don't tell me what to do.” Yamazaki lifts her head to glare at the captain, but there’s no anger behind it.

She then stands up and walks over to Shishido. She flicks his forehead. Hard.

“OW! What the hell was that for–”

“Don't you dare be a pain in the ass for the rest of the team when you get back. Always yelling and trying to be the cool senpai. You suck at pacing yourself.”

“Oi, I thought we were saying our goodbyes, not personally insulting each other.”

“I live and breathe to hate, what can I say?” She shrugs, then she flicks his cap, making it land at an awkward angle on his head.

“Come back stronger, ‘kay? Or I’ll make you run suicides until you actually commit suicide.” She threatens (with love and care).

Shishido snorts, then fixes his cap. “Yeah yeah, I’ll hold you to that.”

Yamazaki moves towards Mukahi, who’s already pouting before she even says anything.

“...I should be thrilled that you’re leaving.” She scowls at him.

“What, no tears or anything? I’m hurt. Aren't I your favourite?” Mukahi scoffs.

“Don't flatter yourself, you walking migraine.” Yamazaki rolls her eyes. “I’m not gonna cry for someone who does moonsaults in the school hallways and nearly decapitated the vice principal two months ago.”

“We agreed to never talk about that–”

“But,” she interrupts, then sighs at what she’s about to say. “You made practice not boring, I guess.” She admits begrudgingly. “With your loud yelling and your constant fights with Shishido and Oshitari.”

Mukahi raises a brow at her rare praise, waiting for her particular brand of insults.

“I’ve lost track of all the times I lost my voice yelling at you. And how you made me lose sleep. And how you nearly gave me a concussion with a tennis ball that one time.” She adds. 

“There it is.” Mukahi grinned. “That’s more accurate.”

She clicks her tongue in annoyance. “Just…try standing still for five minutes, yeah? You should do it more often.” She sasses him.

“Yes ma’am.” He gives her a mock salute.

Then to Kabaji.

As always, he hasn't said a word the entire time, just quietly observing as he usually does. 

“You,” she points towards him where he’s standing behind the couches. “You were always the hardest to read.” 

Kabaji looks down at her. “Usu.”

“But I always knew you cared and paid attention even at the littlest things that barely matter. You just didn't say much, and that’s completely fine,” Yamazaki notes. It’s rare for her to be this earnest towards anyone. From behind, Atobe looks at her like a proud father watching his daughter finally making friends.

“I hope you know how much that means to me—to all of us. You ground us. Like a…a tree trunk.” She cringes at her comparison.

“A…tree trunk?” He tilts his head.

“It’s a compliment, dummy.” Yamazaki grumbles with pink cheeks.

Kabaji’s eyes widen for a fraction, then he bows to her. “...Thank you very much. Yamazaki-san.”

Now…

When she turns to Hiyoshi and their eyes meet, she glares at the aloof second-year and stuffs her hands in her pockets.

“You,” she jerks her head towards the courts. “Walk with me.”

Hiyoshi raises an eyebrow in suspicion. “Why?”

“Senpai’s orders. Now chop-chop.” She says casually, acting like she could care less but in reality it’s the complete opposite. The guys can tell from her expression. “Don’t make it sound weird. I just need to yell at you. Privately.” She muttered quietly.

Hiyoshi along with the rest of the team exchange looks but don't comment out of respect.

Hiyoshi sighs, then stands up from his seat. “I assume I will come back in one piece?” 

“Don't count on it.”

As the two walk off, the rest of the members are still looking at the direction they went.

“Those two were always close, huh?” Oshitari rests his chin against his palm on the couch’s armrest. 

Atobe huffs in amusement. “Yeah.”

—

Out of all the members she spent the most time with besides Atobe, it’s this guy. She went through hell and back trying to give Hiyoshi pointers on how to win against Atobe, only for him to end up losing.

As they walk around the empty courts in silence, the morning sun rising paints the artificial grass into a mesmerizing orange tint. When Hiyoshi glances at Yamazaki walking next to him, he sees that she’s visibly struggling to hold back tears. It’s kind of hilarious.

“Don't cry, senpai. You’ll look weird.” Hiyoshi states bluntly. Again.

“You just couldn't hold yourself back from saying that, couldn't you?” Yamazaki’s eye twitches in annoyance.

Hiyoshi huffs nonchalantly. “It can't be helped. It’s who I am.” 

“Yes, unfortunately.” Yamazaki sighs at him in fond exasperation. They both know his snarky comment was said to lighten the mood. That’s what Yamazaki usually does too. Their personalities are similar, after all. That’s how they both managed to get along.

“...I told you everything I knew about Atobe. I really thought you would win and finally overthrow him.” Yamazaki looks down at the bleachers they now stand on, feeling like it’s her fault that she hasn't helped him enough. Like she failed as a senpai.

“I just wasn't strong enough to overtake the captain. That’s all.” He shrugs, watching as the sun rises higher above the sky.

“...”

“You’re blaming yourself, aren't you, senpai?” 

Yamazaki stiffens. Screw Hiyoshi for being so damn perceptive.

“Ah, was it that obvious?” She awkwardly scratches the back of her neck.

“Like an open book.” He replies.

Yamazaki exhales and lets out a hollow laugh, as if she’s laughing at herself. “Guess that’s because I’ve been around you guys too long. You all can easily read me now.”

“No, you always sucked at hiding stuff.”

She shoots him a glare. “You done?”

“Nope,” He says flatly, popping the ‘p’. “If it’ll make you feel better, you didn't fail me, senpai.” He adds. “I just wasn't ready. That’s all there is to it.”

...huh?

Yamazaki looks at Hiyoshi like he grew a second head. Overthrowing Atobe meant everything to Hiyoshi. It’s all he thinks about…

So why the hell is he so relaxed about it?

Her brows draw together in irritation. She stops walking.

“Why does it seem like this whole thing didn't matter to you?”

“...what do you mean?” Hiyoshi blinks in surprise, caught off guard by Yamazaki’s sudden shift in her tone.

“You act like it’s no big deal that you just lost to Atobe. And that you don't give a shit that you’re no longer participating in this camp,” The tone in her voice marks her bubbling frustration. “You’re acting like this was a regular match. But we both know it wasn't.”

“You've wanted to overthrow Atobe for so long, Hiyoshi. You trained like hell for this. Hell, you obsessed over it like some psychopath.” Her voice raises slightly.

Hiyoshi doesn't immediately answer and only stares at the courts. The prick’s unreadable as ever.

But his silence doesn't make Yamazaki falter. Instead, she keeps going. “So why the hell are you acting like everything’s fine? You lost to Atobe and your privilege to be in this camp and now you’re just…being all nonchalant about it!” She finally snaps.

“...that’s speaking a lot from someone who didn't even play any matches–”

“Don't you dare give me any of your smart-ass comments.” She cuts him off.

Hiyoshi sees the genuine frustration in his manager’s eyes then sighs. He sits down on the bleachers.

“What do you want me to say, senpai? That I’m angry or something? That all that work went to waste?” He avoids meeting her eyes. “I know how much it meant. I know it more than anyone, but I’m not gonna fall apart over it.”

Yamazaki grits her teeth. “You should be angry. I literally don't understand how you’re not upset right now.” She clenches her fists.

“Don't get mistaken, senpai. I am angry.” He sharply corrects her. “But moping about it won't change the outcome. All I have to do now is become even stronger than I already am.”

Yamazaki inhales sharply, then lets out a shaky exhale as if to let out her built up frustration. She doesn't know what she feels now. Guilt? Helplessness? Both.

“You better not be bottling your feelings up to act all cool in front of me, you jerk.” She gently nudges his arm with her foot. 

“You're mistaking me for Shishido-senpai. I’m offended, Yamazaki-senpai.” He scoffs, but turns to finally meet her gaze.

“...it just pisses me off how you’re so calm about it.” She mutters under her breath. This time she’s the one avoiding his gaze.

“It’s called mental strengthening. Maybe that long-haired coach knew what he was doing after all.” Hiyoshi shrugs, then stands up.

That gets her to shut up. 

“...you’re seriously fine? You won't be coming back here later, y’know.” She looks back at him, searching his eyes for any sign of dishonesty.

“How many times will I have to say it, senpai?” He sighs as he joins her on the spot she’s standing on.

“Just making sure you don't have regrets or anything like that.” She replies, nodding to herself after confirming that Hiyoshi does in fact, seem fine.

“I don't regret anything. I simply lost to someone better, that’s it.” He says calmly, placing his hands in his pockets.

Yamazaki clicks her tongue in annoyance. “Ugh, that’s so un-anime-like of you. At least yell into the sky or something. Isn't that what normal people do when they lose?”

“I’m not normal.” He deadpans.

“Clearly.”

They fall into silence again. A comfortable one. The tension in Yamazaki’s facial expression is now gone.

“Ugh, I really thought you’d win.” She groans. 

“So did I, but here we are.” Hiyoshi shrugs again. They begin walking back to the dorms, but they take their time doing so.

“You almost had it, man,” She complains. “You had him on the ropes, and then—ugh.” She throws her arms up in defeat. “I think I aged like ten years watching that match.” She runs a hand over her face to feel any developing wrinkles.

Hiyoshi actually laughs at that. Softly and genuinely. Unlike his usual sass. “Didn't think you were that invested.” 

“Are you serious right now?” Yamazaki looks him dead in the eye. “I spent months telling you everything about Atobe. Pacing charts, his habits in court, how many minutes it takes him to get worn out, how he ties his shoes. I basically handed you his soul on a silver platter.” 

“And I still lost, so what does that say about your data?” He smirks.

“And who’s fault was it for relying on me when it came to said data?”

“...touché.” 

The sky is much brighter now. The warm orange glow that casted over the courts gave way to morning blue.

…

“Hey,” Yamazaki nudges Hiyoshi’s side with her elbow as they walk.

“When you get stronger and finally win against Atobe, you better let me gloat.” She grins childishly at him.

Hiyoshi raises an eyebrow. “...how?”

“I basically raised you, Hiyoshi. The win’s mine too.”

Chapter Text

[An hour later…]

“Middle schoolers who have lost the singles matches, please return to the dorms to collect your belongings,” Coach Kurobe’s soft-spoken voice rings through the camp’s speakers. “Your bus home is waiting for you in the parking lot. That will be all. Thank you for your hard work.”

The losing middle schoolers have all their things packed up in their bags now, lingering in the parking lot to have pep-talks before bidding goodbye to their teammates that get to stay.

In Hyotei’s hand, however–

The four losers of the team all collectively sweatdrop in unison seeing their manager visibly struggle to hold back her tears from flowing.

As Yamazaki and the winners of the team stand before them, she sniffles—then immediately wipes her face with her sleeve.

“...Yamaza–”

“M’not crying.” She immediately cuts Mukahi off, yet the way her eyes are getting glassy says otherwise.

“Ahn? Could've fooled me with all that sniffling you’re doing.” Atobe huffs while resting his hand on his hip, watching Yamazaki struggle in amusement.

“How dare you freaks leave me to babysit Atobe all by myself.” She mutters, weakly glaring at Atobe first and then the four men.

“Oi.”

“S’not like you’ll be the only one watching over him.” Oshitari chimes in, equally as amused as Atobe while watching their manager deal with emotional constipation.

The tears that were threatening to fall from Yamazaki’s eyes suddenly dried up magically. “Ootori is a scared little precious snowflake who’s too afraid to even get angry, Akutagawa literally gives no shits about anything, and you?” She scowls and points accusingly at Oshitari. “You don't even do anything to stop whatever Atobe’s doing.” She snarls, poking Oshitari’s chest repeatedly. “You just let him do what he wants like he’s a spoiled brat.”

“Oi, I’m right here–”

“Why should I do that when babysitting Atobe’s your job?” Oshitari crosses his arms. “In fact I think he only listens to you.”

“I’d appreciate it if I had another person to help around the house.” Yamazaki crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. The team looks at Oshitari and Yamazaki bickering like a married couple two seconds away from a divorce.

“Oi, there are quite literally more important things to worry about right now.” Atobe finally gets a say between their bickering, pointing back at the four guys about to board the bus.

The reminder hits Yamazaki like a slap to the face. When she turns to look at the boys, her posture straightens and her mouth all of a sudden clamps shut mid–punchline.

What makes things worse is that she hears the bus doors hiss open, waiting for players to finally head inside. Like it’s trying to cut their goodbyes short.

Shishido, Mukahi, Kabaji, and Hiyoshi all stand a few feet away from them with their duffel bags slung over their shoulders, trying not to look all awkward as they actually feel. These guys are the worst at saying goodbyes.

“Well? You lot better say something quick. Our manager here looks like a beaver dam about to break.” Atobe raises a brow at the four losers. 

“Tch, this is lame.” Shishido mutters gruffly to break the silence, avoiding eye contact and adjusts his cap for what seems like the 12th time today.

“For once I agree with you,” Mukahi agrees with Shishido and mindlessly kicks a pebble near his foot. “I thought we’d leave with, I dunno, some cool dramatic anime music or something. This is too depressing.”

“I can hum if you want.” Oshitari suggests.

“Don’t.” Everyone says in unison.

Kabaji simply nods. “Usu.”

“Ouch.”

“Idiots,” Yamazaki clicks her tongue, clearly biting back whatever emotion that’s begging to come out of her already. She rubs her eyes more aggressively this time.

“You gonna cry for real this time or should I start recording?” Shishido takes out his phone from his pocket.

“Say that again and twist serve you into the next week.” 

…

Silence.

Until Yamazaki sees more people heading into the bus. Sanada, Echizen, Oshitari the II (aka Kenya according to Yamazaki), and more. They’re gonna be the only ones left out here. That manages to make her snap out of it.

“...alright fine!” She snaps. Not to anyone in particular, but to the situation—the fact that they even have to separate and that she wouldn't be hearing their screeching mating call noises in the dorms at 3am later. 

She inhales sharply, then lets her words stumble out. “I’m going to miss you dumbasses! A lot! Very much! Is that what you wanted to hear?!” She clutches the fabric of her pants. “I’m devastated at the fact that we won't be seeing the end of this camp all together!” Her voice cracks pathetically.

All the members blink in surprise at her outburst. They’re finally seeing their manager lose her shit in live action 4K HD after having seen her stubbornly hold in her true emotions for years.

“Just…just keep training or something. I’ll text you guys training menus too so you can keep up with us here, and…argh, I don't know anymore,” Yamazaki scratches her head in distress, which messes up her tied up hair. “Its just–ugh, whatever, insert some motivational quote here, I guess. You know what I mean.”

Everyone is still staring at her in stunned silence.

That is until–

“Are you done, senpai?” Hiyoshi deadpans. His comedic timing is unmatched as always.

Yamazaki looks like she’s about to throw some hands. “Hiyoshi Wakashi do not make me launch you to the next mountain over.” She threatens. Hiyoshi looks unphased as ever.

“It looks like Yamazaki-san’s back.” Ootori chuckles with a typical bright sunshine smile on his face.

“I’m overwhelmed. That was too much emotion from you in one day.” Oshitari dramatically places a hand over his chest.

“You guys are one to talk, showing your emotions once every leap year or something–”

The bus driver honks twice as a signal that time’s up. It’s time for them to go.

The losers look at their team one more time and they all simply just…nod before climbing on board. They’ve said everything they've needed to say. All they can do is just wait for what comes next. Once they get in their seats, they look out the window for one last wave until they meet again.

And just like that, the doors shut and the bus pulls out of the parking lot. The silence is already feeling like torture.

Yamazaki and the remaining members watch where the bus exited as it disappears down the hill, taking half their team with it. Tezuka, Yukimura, and the other winning members at the camp all head back inside the dorms for breakfast.

There’s a long pause.

A really long one before Yamazaki finally starts tearing up.

“Hn, I was wondering when you’d finally break.” Atobe uncrosses his arms, approaches her and gives her a handkerchief.

Yamazaki snatches the handkerchief then purposely blows her nose on it just to piss him off. “I said I’m not crying.” She mumbles into it.

“Yeah? That’s a lot of not-tears that you’re wiping there.” Oshitari observes with a smirk and crosses his arms.

“Shut up. Don't you remember I'm allergic to pollen, smartass?” She snaps, aggressively dabbing at her face using the handkerchief.

“In the middle of a concrete parking lot??” Ootori asks innocently.

“Don't piss me off right now, Ootori.”

He immediately zips his mouth shut. 

They all just stand there for a while longer as if hoping for a miracle that the bus would turn around and the coaches would say that it’s all a prank, but that’s not possible. No more threatening to sew Mukahi’s mouth shut at 3am, no more tending to Shishido’s wounds that he stubbornly brushes off, no more getting Kabaji to open up more, no more of dealing with Hiyoshi’s sass.

Yamazaki exhales slowly as if to cope with the reality.

“God, it's gonna be quiet as hell without them.”

“It’ll be peaceful,” Atobe says, but there’s something in his tone that his members notice that suggests he doesn't actually mean it.

“You mean boring.” She scoffs.

“...hn.” Atobe doesn't deny it.

*GGGGRRRROOOWWLLLL*

A loud, unmistakable grumbling noise that echoes through the air interrupts the soppy atmosphere.

Everyone freezes.

They turn and they see Akutagawa asleep on a patch of grass beneath the tree, snoring without a care in the world and subconsciously scratching his stomach, having slept through their entire emotional breakdown.

“Mmm, pickled mackerel…mousse pocky…” he mumbles in his sleep.

They all just stare at him.

“A frightening food combination.” Oshitari adjusts his glasses with a subtle lift of his finger.

“That’s where he’s been all this time?” Atobe raises a brow.

Ootori comes closer to Akutagawa sprawled on the grass and kneels down to gently wake him. “Akutagawa-san, please wake up, the senpais along with Hiyoshi and Kabaji already left,” he shakes Akutagawa gently, but that doesn't wake him up. 

Ootori sighs, knowing just what'll wake him up. “And it’s time for breakfast.” He adds. 

“Brheakfasht?!” Akutagawa springs up from his sleeping position, one eye half open and a slight bit of drool coming out from the corner of his mouth. 

“That’s what woke you up, you little shit?” Yamazaki and the others approach him. She gives Akutagawa a light kick to the leg as he yawns in a carefree manner.

“Eh?” He looks around the now empty and quiet parking lot behind his fellow members. “Wait…they left already?!” He squawks.

“You’re hopeless,” Oshitari facepalms and shakes his head in exasperation. How did this guy manage to stay in the camp but not Hiyoshi???

*EEEOOOOWWWUU*

Akutagawa’s stomach announces its presence yet again. 

“Ahh, I’m hungryy,” Akutagawa whines while holding his stomach. He gets up and wobbles slightly before stretching like a cat. “Ne ne, can we head back now? I think I had a dream about soba…” his mouth waters at the thought. Yamazaki cringes at the sight.

Atobe sighs deeply. “Come on, let’s head inside before he passes out again.” He makes his way to the dorms as the rest of them trail behind him.

"Aren't you glad that you get to stay with the sane people? You're finally getting the inner peace you've been wishing for." Oshitari nudges Yamazaki's side with his elbow.

"All of you are insane. You guys just hide it better." She snaps back.

Ootori swears he heard Yamazaki mutter something about committing a mass murder but chooses to pretend that he didn't hear. 

For his own safety. And everyone else’s.

Chapter Text

A day has passed since the losers have left the camp. Back at camp, things have taken a rather…interesting turn, as of late.

[Tennis Courts, around 6PM]

“This is our training menu?!” Kikumaru along with the other winners stare at the training menu on display in horror. It consists of a total of 34 workouts that they have to do. “We’re doing this tomorrow…right?” 

“Who said anything about tomorrow?” Coach Tsuge’s voice comes booming from the terrace of the viewing room, standing up there with his arms crossed. “You all have six hours, I won't hear any complaints!”

“Eh?!” Kikumaru gulped. 

“If you can't finish in time, you leave this camp. That’s all!” Coach Tsuge adds.

“Why’s this guy acting like a drill sergeant?” Marui mutters while blowing bubble gum.

“Marui-san! He might hear you!” Ootori whisper-yells with worry.

As the boys begin their training regimen, Yamazaki watches from the terrace with the coaches, laptop on her lap as she types away frantically. Coach Saito had given her the task of collecting data on each and every player’s stats and performance. 

Once she finishes recording Shiraishi’s reaction speed, her head then snaps to Fuji who’s running his second lap. Then when Kite finishes his sprint she types down his recovery rate. She has a running timer on one hand and the other hand on the keyboard. She doesn't even know who she’s timing anymore.

‘Oh my god they're making me do child labour.’ Yamazaki dies internally, gripping the timer with a little more force than usual that it threatens to crack. She can't even think to herself for even a second. 

When she takes a quick glance at coaches Saito and Kurobe next to her, they both just stand there, watching and not lifting a single finger.

“‘M’gonna kill’em,” she mutters under her breath.

“What was that, manager chan~?” Coach Saito cups his ear.

“Absolutely nothing, coach.”

She should be getting paid for this.

—

[U-17 Camp - Hot Spring Baths, Hours later]

“Ahh,” Fuji sinks down further into the hot water, feeling like he’s melting. “Nothing beats a bath after working up a sweat.”

“I feel like I’ve been set free~!” Kikumaru stretches like a cat then swims mini-laps around the huge tub.

After their intense workout, the (winning) Seigaku members have all gathered in the bathroom to soak in the hot springs together to relieve their aching muscles. Just the three of them.

On the other hand, Yamazaki is also having a soak in the women’s bathroom. She’s the only person here. And she can hear the boys talking on the other side.

Peace and quiet is now a foreign concept to Yamazaki. She's come to realize that that's asking for the impossible living with a hundred men for a few months. However she thanks the gods for granting her this huge luxurious bath all to herself. Being the only woman in this camp has its (very few) perks.

“YAHOOOY~!” She hears Kikumaru cheer on the other side, then a big splash comes right after.

“That’s enough out of you, Kikumaru. You’re not at home.” Yamazaki hears Tezuka scold him.

“You’re really like a child, Eiji.” Comes Fuji’s chuckle.

“Cheee, you two are no fun. Wish Oishi was here.” Kikumaru pouts as he sits still in the bath now.

Yamazaki feels like she’s eavesdropping–no, that’s exactly what she’s doing. But is she going to be the bigger person and mind her business? No, of course not.

Seigaku, huh? Right—it’s just the three of them left in this camp. If she recalls correctly, Kaidoh, Momoshiro, Inui, Oishi, Kawamura, and Echizen have all left. That’s more than half of their team. Kikumaru’s probably trying to live his best despite the situation, but Tezuka and Fuji are fully aware that he’s struggling to do so. At least it seems like the two are doing fine. From the outside, that is.

“Aah, I know just how they feel.” She mutters to herself while sinking lower into the hot bath.

“Hm? Did I hear a woman’s voice just now?” Fuji asks from the other side of the baths.

Yamazaki clamps a hand on her mouth. Shit.

“Oh! Maybe it’s Hyotei’s manager-chan!” Kikumaru perks up, mindlessly swaying side to side.

“Her name is Yamazaki Maki,” Tezuka corrects Kikumaru. That earns a long stare from his teammates.

At the women’s bath, Yamazaki suddenly sits up after hearing Tezuka correct Kikumaru. Why did that make her chest feel weird?

“...what is it?” He blinks in confusion.

“Ah, nothing~ it’s just that…” 

“You usually don't bother yourself with such trivial things like nicknames for people.” Fuji continues what Kikumaru was going to say. "Mhm!" He nods in agreement to Fuji.

“I don't, but I just think referring to someone by their name is more respectful.” Tezuka crosses his arms and leans back against the ledge, posture still impeccable as ever even in the baths.

“Is that so?” Fuji smiles enigmatically while scratching his chin. “Speaking of, I saw you two at one of the gyms a few days ago…alone.”

"OHO?!" Kikumaru perks up again in interest.

Yamazaki stiffens.

“Is there a problem with that?” Tezuka narrows his eyes cautiously at Fuji. “I simply invited her and she accepted. Plus, she needed the exercise to properly wake herself up” he added, recalling the early morning he saw Yamazaki at the vending machine debating on which energy drink to buy.

Yamazaki feels like she got shot with a flaming arrow from that statement. 

"So, a date." Fuji says, not as a question but as a statement.

"It was most certainly not." 

“Mhmmmmm~” Kikumaru smirks at Tezuka, not buying his words. “Ne Tezuka, your ears are red~”

Tezuka’s ears redden further at Kikumaru’s call out, then he clears his throat. “Don't be absurd. It’s natural for a human’s body parts to turn red due to the heat.” Tezuka deflects, but his reddening ears and cheeks tell Fuji and Kikumaru all they need to know.

“You should be more honest to yourself, Tezuka,” Fuji chuckles. “If you don't, she’ll get swept away before you even know it.”

The way he said the words “swept away” made Tezuka’s eyebrow twitch in annoyance. He knows exactly who Fuji is referring to.

“...this is ridiculous. I’m leaving.” Tezuka says before standing up to leave the hot spring. Kikumaru and Fuji snicker at how red Tezuka’s back has become as he wraps a towel around his waist. And that’s totally not because of the heat.

“You shouldn't keep running away from your feelings, Tezukaaa~!” Kikumaru calls out to him with a cheeky grin. Tezuka’s steps have quickened as he turns to leave.

“Don't stay in for too long.” is the last thing he says before leaving to dry off and change.

Meanwhile Yamazaki, on the other hand, is seriously considering fully dunking herself underwater and never resurfacing.

“Oh my god,” she mutters, face burning hot (not because of the heat) after hearing their entire conversation. “Tezuka Kunimitsu basically said I looked like a zombie.” She covers her face with her hands, then–

“Ne ne Fuji, what if Yamazaki-chan heard the entire thing?”

Fuji glances up at the thin wall that separates the two springs, then chuckles to himself. “I’m sure at least someone has.” 

A loud, somewhat frantic-sounding splash followed by the wet padding of feet on tiles comes from the other side, which confirms Fuji’s suspicions. 

Heh.

—

[U-17 Camp Dorm - Cafeteria, 8pm]

“Ohhhh! There’s tendon meat in this hotpot!” Shiraishi points excitedly at the wide selection of hotpot laid out on the table amongst other delicacies.

“We’ve all prepared dishes from everyone’s hometowns today, please dig in to your heart's content.” The head chef bows politely before taking his leave.

Atobe merely scoffs at the English dishes prepared. Clearly this is just a tactic to appeal to the players. “A sad attempt at English cuisine, if you ask me.” He says, but his eyes don't leave the large tray of shepherd's pie in front of him.

“No one asked you,” Yamazaki cuts in front of him and takes the piece of shepherd’s pie that he was eyeing and puts it on her plate. 

“Oi, I was going to take that.” Atobe narrowed his eyes.

“Your hands clearly weren't doing any ‘taking’ movement back there.” Yamazaki sasses back. “Does it truly disgust you to dine with the poor, King?” She waves her fork tauntingly at him before heading to the sushi table. For once Atobe has no comeback. Woman truly knows how to make her teammates speechless.

As Yamazaki was about to reach for the last piece of tamago left, her chopsticks collided with two other pairs. “Oi–ah.”

“Tch, Kite.” 

“A pleasure to see you again, Akutsu-kun.”

Akutsu and Kite glare at each other with murderous intent with no intention of moving their chopsticks away. The two have been riling each other up in their own ways for the past few hours. Not to mention they’re both towering over Yamazaki at the moment like forest trees.

“Um–”

“Give it up. This is my prey.” Akutsu snarls.

“I was 0.3 seconds faster.” Kite challenges. “I believe it’s you who should give up.”

“The hell did you say?!” Akutsu growls, his glaring intensifying as he moves towards Kite.

“What’s the issue, Akutsu-kun?” Kite merely sneers, as if he’s enjoying pissing Akutsu off. 

“Thank you very much.”

“Ah?” 

When Akutsu and Kite looked at the sushi tray, the single tamago was now nowhere to be found. When they turn their heads to look for the culprit who took it, they see the tamago on Yamazaki’s plate.

“You bitch! Give it back here!” Akutsu demanded, rudely pointing his chopsticks at the unbothered girl now sitting at a table with her Hyotei teammates, purposely munching loudly on the tamago to piss Akutsu off.

“A cunning move, Yamazaki-san.” Kite adjusts his glasses with an impressed expression before turning to another food display.

—

“What’s wrong, Eiji?” Fuji asks Kikumaru who’s sitting with him and Tezuka at a table, noticing that he’s barely touched his food. “You’ve hardly eaten anything.”

“Ah, yeah…” Kikumaru looks down at his untouched food. “It’s just—when I think about Oishi, I feel like my appetite goes away for some reason.” 

Tezuka and Fuji cast their glances downwards at the mention of Oishi, who had left the camp along with the other losers. “If Oishi was here, he’d be saying something like, ‘Oi, Eiji! Don't just eat meat and have vegetables too!’ and continue scolding me.” Kikumaru looks down at his steak with a bittersweet smile. 

Never has Yamazaki seen a person look at a steak with such remorse.

“I see.” Fuji nods in understanding. 

“Ah! But I’ll still do my best for Oishi’s sake!” Kikumaru reassures Fuji. “It’s just that I’m still not sure if this outcome was for the best…”

“I understand how you feel.”

“Eh?”

“I understand how you feel, Kikumaru-san,” Ootori joins in from the table beside them. “Somewhere in my mind, I feel the same way. I’m not sure if staying here is worth forcing Shishido-san out.” His voice softens. 

Yamazaki pauses while taking a bite of her food and looks at Ootori beside her. “Ootori–”

“Hah! Ridiculous.” Atobe scoffed. All heads turn to him now. Yamazaki’s brows furrow at Atobe, predicting what he’s going to say next. 100% something arrogant, that's for sure.

“Are you all idiots? If you’re going to regret it, don’t win in the first place.” He says casually before eating a cut of his A5 wagyu.

“What did you say..?!” Kikumaru stood up from his seat to look at Atobe.

“Atobe-san…you don't have to word it that way…” Ootori looks at Atobe from across the table like he was betrayed.

“If you want to lick each other’s wounds, get out of this camp—you’re an eyesore.” He states bluntly, returning Ootori and Kikumaru’s looks right back at them.

“Looks like his majesty is feeling cranky that he’s dining with a bunch of peasants,” Yamazaki says flatly, neatly placing her chopsticks down on the side of her plate. Atobe’s eyes narrow at her sass.

“There’s being blunt and there’s just straight-up kicking people when they’re already limping,” she wipes her mouth with a napkin, then looks at him flatly. “Did you know there’s a difference?” She challenges him.

“I’m just telling them the reality of the situation,” His eyes briefly leave hers to glance up at Ootori and Kikumaru. “If they want to cry about it, then they should leave this camp. They have all the time in the world for that. Or is that wrong?” He returns Yamazaki’s challenging look.

“Right, and you’re the diplomat of emotional repression,” Yamazaki rolls her eyes. “What you’re saying isn't wrong, but you don't have to say it like an asshole would.” She turns to look at Kikumaru and Ootori who have their heads hung low in serious thought.

“I fear Atobe-kun is right,” Mizuki pops in out of nowhere with a dramatic hair flip like he’s goddamn Galinda from Wicked. This guy always manages to pop up out of nowhere when things get heated…

“Mizuki…” Kikumaru glares at Mizuki who just looks amused at the situation. 

‘...he’s totally butting in to add gas to the fire.’ Yamazaki sweatdrops.

“Atobe-san, aren't you worried about our members who left?” Ootori asks Atobe, having a tiny spark of hope thinking that his captain isn't as arrogant as he thinks he is.

“No,” Atobe admits without hesitation. “This place doesn't afford us the time to pity them.”

“Oi Atobe, what the hell did I just say-”

“Kikumaru-kun, if you keep thinking about that egg, someone will trip you up one day.” Mizuki approaches Kikumaru while twirling a strand of his hair.

Yamazaki violently chokes on her chopsticks.

“E-Egg?!” Kikumaru exclaimed in offense at his insult.

Tezuka loudly clears his throat to stifle his laugh. Fuji puts his hand on his chin. “Well, he does look perfectly egg-shaped…”

The resemblance is uncanny. 

Oshitari who’s been silent the entire time while watching the exchange finally speaks, “This is the legacy Seigaku’s vice-captain left behind.” He tries to muffle his laughter behind his hand. 

“Eggs will be cracked in his honour.” Yamazaki clasps her hands together.

“Alright I’m mad now!” Kikumaru yelled, then points towards Mizuki. “I won’t let you mock Oishi like that! Let’s have a match right now, you and me!” He challenges with determination.

“I’m disappointed in you, Atobe-san,” Ootori rises from his seat. “I’d like to have a match with you too!” He declares. It's clear that he isn't backing down from this. 

“Heh, now you're talking.” Atobe stands up as well.

The two pairs’ dramatic stare down is interrupted by Yamazaki— “Okay, you shounen jump protagonists,” she rises from her seat as well while holding her empty plate. “The one thing we are not going to do while having dinner is to start a revenge arc.” Everyone turns to her now, which makes her queasy, but she has to stay firm.

“You,” she points her chopsticks at Kikumaru. “–shouldn't be picking fights with Mizuki of all people when he twists his hair so much that he’s growing bald spots.” 

“Wait, what–” Mizuki gasps, scandalized. His hands suddenly fly to his head.

“And you,” Yamazaki snaps her head to scowl at Ootori. “Don't waste your energy trying to prove something that Atobe already knows.” She scolds him. He looks like a giant, dejected puppy being scolded by their owner. “You should know that Atobe’s just too prideful to admit it. He has an image to maintain after all. Am I right or right?” She adds, now grinning at the captain.

Atobe huffs then folds his arms. “Say what you will.” He muttered softly, a tone completely different from how he was sounding just a few minutes ago. He knows to back down when Yamazaki butts in.

Nodding proudly at Atobe and his resignation, she turns to Ootori and places a hand on his shoulder (usually it would be his head but she can't reach it) “Listen, regardless if you feel guilty or not, you remain here. And you should be proud of that achievement. You won against a senpai, for christssakes,” she grins stupidly at him. 

“If you want to honour Shishido, Hiyoshi, and the others who left, then just win. That’s all you can do for their sake—not sulking in front of food blessed by the culinary heavens.” 

Everyone in the cafeteria goes quiet, then Shiraishi starts clapping in awe. The rest join in with the clapping.

"Way to go, Yamazaki!" Shiraishi cheers.

“W-what the hell–” Yamazaki’s entire face turns red in embarrassment. “Stop clapping! Just eat your food!” She waves her hands frantically.

‘Always good at defusing conflict.’ Tezuka’s lips curl up a millimeter, remembering how she was also like that when they were younger. “I see why you appointed her as manager, Atobe.” He turns to look at Atobe who’s sat back down.

“Jealous, ahn?” He throws his head back teasingly at Tezuka. “Sorry, but she’s ours.” He smirks.

“To cracked eggs and cracked pride, kampai~!” Marui holds up his cup of orange juice.

“What–”

Everyone raises their cups. “Kampaiiii!” 

Chapter Text

[Tennis Courts, Practice Wall - 10:38PM]

With nearly most of the middle-schoolers eliminated and Kabaji gone, Atobe had been working himself to the bone and giving himself no breaks in-between workouts and practice. 

The sun had set hours ago. Since the camp’s located in the mountains, everything’s pitch black except the moonlight and the bright floodlights that shine down upon the courts. Right now, Atobe’s outside at a court swinging his racket without his usual grace and precision, sweat staining his shirt and all. The practice wall he’d been hitting the tennis ball on shows clear indentation—proof that he’d been at it for hours. 

He isn't alone, though. Yamazaki had been watching him the entire time since 3PM. She’s sitting at a bench nearby with his towel and water bottle, watching his every move. Not because she was worried about his condition. Nope.

“Gah–!” Atobe exclaims as he hits the ball with more force than his usual playstyle. Yamazaki’s sharp eyes can see him straining his arm. But that’s not all she sees—his pivoting is getting sloppy, he’s panting like a dog out in 40 degree weather, and most importantly, he hasn't taken a single sip of water in almost an hour. He’s going to collapse any minute now.

“Oi Atobe, no one’s forcing you to do this, y’know, your body’s not as durable as a machine’s.” Yamazaki stands, finally speaking up after spectating him for hours. That causes Atobe to lose his concentration in which he ends up mistiming his swing when the ball comes at him. 

“Tch.” He clicks his tongue in annoyance for missing, then walks to where the ball landed to pick it up with his racket.

“Oi. I know damn well you can hear me,” Yamazaki crosses her arms as she enters the court. “Ever heard of the word ‘rest’? You should try it out sometime. Heard it’s really good for your health.” She says sarcastically.

“I’ll rest when there’s no one else to beat. Don't interrupt me,” Atobe finally replied in annoyance to her sarcasm. He bounces the tennis ball in his hand, ready to serve. “Outta my way.” He jerks his head to the side.

Yamazaki fearlessly steps right in front of Atobe, blocking his view and preventing him from serving. “It’s 10pm, Atobe. You’ve been out here for seven hours without food and barely any water,” she says, not moving from her position.

“I said get out of my way.” Atobe’s brows furrow at Yamazaki. She doesn't budge.

“Or what? You gonna serve that ball right at my head? I dare you.” She taunts and matches his glare. Atobe’s grip tightens on his racket’s handle. It’s a battle of stubborn wills between them. He’s clearly losing his patience. 

“Did you not hear what I just said?” He gazes at her coldly, voice ragged and firm.

“Did YOU not hear what I just said?” Yamazaki echoes mockingly, reaching out her arm to offer his towel to him. “You’re going to snap a tendon at this rate.”

Atobe smacks the towel out of her hand and it lands on the ground. “If I’m weak enough to snap, then I don't belong here. You of all people should understand that.” He glares at her with eyes he can barely keep open.

Yamazaki glances down at the towel he knocked down, then back at him. “This isn't the military, you shitbrick. You’re not fighting for your life out here.” She says dryly and crouches down to get the towel.

Before she can grab it, Atobe walks towards her and steps over the towel like it didn't matter. Like she didn't matter.

“And you talk like you know what it takes,” Atobe finally snaps, looking down at her like a monarch would at their servant. “But you don't. You’ve never played any matches. Let alone step on a court. You don't know.”

Yamazaki’s outstretched hand stiffens at his words. Slowly, she stands but doesn't put distance between them. Then, she laughs in disbelief.

“I don't know?” She echoes, gesturing to herself. “Who was the one who’d been planning out all your formations for the past three years? The one deciding all your matches? Arranging who should be put in singles or doubles? Who’d been making individual training menus for ALL three hundred club members??” She jabs a finger to her chest at each fact. 

Atobe doesn't flinch. Not at the yelling, not at the facts she laid out at him that clearly shows she’s greatly contributing to the team. He is well aware of that. He was the one who saw that little spark of fire within her and appointed her as manager when this new era for Hyotei began.

And yet somehow in the heat of the moment, all he could say in response to that was–

“And?”

Yamazaki stares. Her arm lowers to her side.

That look from her already makes Atobe want to eat his words. But his tired brain continues to make him fire out more.

“You just sit there at the side with your trusty clipboard and snarky commentary like it’s a joke. This isn't Hyotei anymore, Yamazaki. It’s the Under 17. It’s everyone for themselves now and you just can't seem to grasp that, ahn?” His voice is strained now, heavy with disdain.

Yamazaki’s eyes widen, her mouth slightly agape.

“You did all of those things because you had to. That was your job as manager. Don't act like you made a noble sacrifice when you’re just doing as you’re told.” He finally raises his voice at her, his tone cold as ice

Yamazaki takes a single step back. She looks at him like she doesn't recognize him. Yamazaki has dealt with Atobe’s fair share of bursts of anger in the past, but not to this extent. And the way he’s saying it—it all seems genuine. Like he actually meant every single word he said. He didn't even hesitate. 

It hits hard. Harder than everything he’s ever said the entire time they’ve known each other. Harder than any tennis ball to the gut.

“If you wanted to play the hero, why don't you go pick up a rack-”

Yamazaki holds up a hand to stop him from continuing.

Atobe immediately shuts his mouth, immediately regretting his words. He realizes he’s already gone too far. He internally curses himself for blurting that out.

Her jaw tightens painfully. Her mouth opens then closes, finding the right words to say. For once in her life she has no retort locked and loaded. 

“Got it,” was all she could muster. Her voice cracks in the middle. “I’ll leave you to it, Captain.” 

She doesn't look up at him again. 

Then she turns and runs out the court, slamming the gate shut. Leaving Atobe and the towel behind.

He doesn't follow after her. He simply…stares at the ground, replaying the entire situation in his head. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

‘Tch. How disgraceful of me.’

—

Yamazaki doesn't know where the hell she’s going. With her sleeve, she wipes the tears blocking her vision with haste. The security guard patrolling nearby eyes her curiously. Fucking great, she must look so ridiculous right now. Looking like she caught an allergic reaction or something.

When she turns on a sharp corner, she slams right onto someone.

“Ah–sorry–” she cuts herself off mid-sentence when she realizes who she just bumped into. 

Him.

Tezuka, calm as ever, blinks down at her in mild confusion. “Maki? What are you doing out so late?”

“...Kunimitsu,” she looks away immediately in embarrassment, suddenly hyper-aware of how red and puffy her face probably looks right now. “Sorry, didn't see you.” She mutters. Thankfully the lights are dim at this part of the camp so he can't see her clearly.

“You didn't answer my question,” He states. “It's not safe for you to be out this late alone.”

“I could say the same thing to you,” Yamazaki sniffles, still avoiding his gaze. “What are you doing out so late? Hopefully not training so hard like you’re the main protagonist of an anime even though you’re not?” She deadpans, internally cracking up at her own inside joke.

A pause. And then–

“I was watching fireflies.” He answers.

“...what.” 

“I was watching fireflies,” He repeats for her as if it makes things any clearer. “They come out by the trees past the washrooms,” He says simply and then glances in the direction where he came from. 

“...I see.” Yamazaki nods stiffly. ‘How utterly Kunimitsu of him.’ She sweatdrops. Truly a man of nature. He yearns for the woods.

“I heard raised voices on the courts and was going to see the commotion, but–” he pauses to look at her properly, now noticing the puffy state of her eyes and red nose. The dots connect in his brain. “I didn't expect it to be you.”

“Yeah well, surprise.” She shrugs with a sigh. Tezuka notes that her posture’s more slumped than usual.

Tezuka doesn't push. He never does. But he doesn't leave her side either. 

That part about him is what Yamazaki respects the most. He doesn't pry unless he’s given permission to. Always been like that since they were kids.

The silence seems to be a recurring thing between them now every time they meet. The only thing that can be heard is the sound of crickets screeching in the distance. Comical. 

The silence becomes so unbearable that Yamazaki begins to shuffle her feet to momentarily distract herself from the awkward tension, suddenly feeling like she’s five again, about to earn a scolding.

“...You don't need to stand there staring at me like I’m pitiful, y’know.” she mutters, breaking the silence between them.

“I wasn't staring.” Tezuka says matter-of-factly.

“No, you always stare. That’s your whole shtick. Just…staring judgementally or something.”

“I’m not judging. I’m waiting,” he says

“For what?” She tilts her head in confusion.

“For you to say what happened.” 

Ah.

She looks to the side again and bites her lip. “I just—tripped. That’s all.” She cringes at her own nonsensical excuse.

“You tripped so hard you ended up crying?” Tezuka tilts his head. His tone isn't mocking, but it isn't soft either. It’s just…plain. Like him. How she prefers it.

Yamazaki’s silence tells him all that he needs to know.

When she lets out a long, shaky exhale, a quiet “Atobe” comes from her mouth.

Tezuka’s brow lifts slightly. That’s about as expressive his face could get.

She elaborates from that reaction. “He snapped at me when I told him to go rest ‘cus he's been at the court for seven hours straight.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Then the bastard threw a tantrum and smacked his towel outta my hand and started yapping about how I didn't know anything about tennis ‘cus I’ve never played a match, so I should stay in my lane.” Her face scrunches in annoyance as she recalls the moment.

Tezuka listens intently and doesn't interrupt, letting her finish whatever she needs to say. He does notice that she's now tugging at the fabric of her shirt, though.

Shit. She feels the tears welling up again. She tilts her head back and looks upwards to hold them back. “I know that he’s under pressure and all, but I’ve been by his side through every damn thing, Kunimitsu.” She says while still looking up, not caring about how stupid she looks right now.

 “I’ve been managing that team for three goddamn years. Planned every single lineup without even needing Coach Sakaki’s approval ‘cus he trusts me that much, ran tournament strategies, studied every single opponent we’d go up against. But since I don't have a racket, none of my effort counts, apparently.” She laughs. Not in amusement, but in defeat. At herself. At the situation.

She doesn't even realize she's shaking until Tezuka shrugs his jacket off to drape it over her shoulders.

“You’ll be cold.” She looks at him but holds onto the jacket to keep it more snug on her. Oh god it smells strongly of him. It takes everything in Yamazaki to not stuff her face against the jacket to rake in his scent.

“You need it more than me.” He says simply, adjusting the U-17 jacket around her shoulders. Yamazaki feels an unwelcome skip in her heartbeat.

“You're so cool sometimes. You ever notice that?” Yamazaki says with a slight upturn of the corners of her mouth once he takes a step back.

“What about that was cool?” He tilts his head in genuine confusion. Ah, that’s what Yamazaki finds so cute about him. He doesn't even realize how amazing he is. His actions are truly from the heart and not because he has a need to impress. Unlike a certain someone.

“Wish our captain could learn from you.” She sighs, then leans back against a pillar near the vending machine.

“He has good qualities too,”  Tezuka added, following along to stand near her. “They are just…hard to notice firsthand.” He clears his throat.

That elicits a snort from Yamazaki. 

“God, I hate him so much right now.” She laughs, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm. “How can someone be so full of grace yet also full of shit?”

“He’s under pressure.” 

“I don't give a shit,” she snaps, then pauses. “Wait no, I do give a shit. But you didn't hear it from me.”

“Is that so?” A corner of Tezuka’s mouth curls up into what looks like a barely noticeable smirk.

“I didn't cry in front of him though! So I still win.” She huffs, like there was any competition to begin with.

“Very mature.”

“Shut up.”

Tezuka watches her for a couple more seconds, then asks, “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“Nah, I don't want you getting involved when you probably have so much on your plate already. I mean, most of your own team’s gone.” She looks at him sympathetically.

“What’s done is done.” He adjusts his glasses.

“Mm,” Yamazaki nods in agreement. “Plus, if you step in, he’ll think I ran to you. Wrong. I ran into you. Big difference.” She wags her pointer finger side to side.

“Huge.” He replies dryly.

Yamazaki sighs and looks up at the full moon above. Tezuka does the same. It’s the brightest light source at the moment.

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it?”

“...Yeah. Really is.” 

Silence. But this time a comfortable one. 

Tezuka then remembers something. “Maki. About the time at the gym–”

“Atobe ruined it, huh?” She takes her gaze off the moon to smirk at him. The slight pink of his ears do the talking for him, remembering how he walked out in a hurry once Atobe came in to get Yamazaki.

“He’s always somehow gotta be involved between us, huh?” She laughs. A genuine one.

“His timing is…somewhat impeccable.” Tezuka coughs lightly. 

“Only somewhat?” She tilts her head in amusement. “I think it's because of him that we’ve started talking again more recently.” 

Tezuka doesn't answer right away. His gaze remains on the moon for a while longer.

“You don't think so?” She asks.

“...no,” he says after a long pause. “You're right.”

Yamazaki chuckles, seeming to have forgotten her argument with Atobe. “Walk me to the dorms?” She tucks her hands into his jacket that she’s wearing.

“Hn.” He nods. Then they begin walking side by side. Yamazaki doesn't take another glance at the courts. That’s a problem she’ll deal with tomorrow.

“Ne,” she tilts her head back to look at him. “Thanks for letting me crash onto you.”

He glances sideways at her. “I wasn't trying to.”