Scores of a Tango 1/?
Title: Scores of a Tango
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Tango (SanadaxAtobe)
Rating: PG (For this chapter they will change as the story progresses I believe)
Word count: 1,563
Chapter: 1/?
Warnings: Sanada being a weirdy...
Disclaimers: Pretty obvious that I own nothing and make no money off of this, because if I could I'd have college paid for by now...
Summery: Just a basic story of how Sanada and Atobe came to be, starting with their match at Nationals. Singles 1 finals Rikkai vs. Hyoutei, Sanada Genichirou vs. Atobe Keigo? (Wow the cheesyness of it all)
This was it, the final point, all Atobe needed was just one more point and this hellish fight would be over with. Nationals this year had been rather tough on Hyoutei, their opponent being the infamous Rikkai Dai. Seishun Gakuen, without the aid of their little brat, hadn’t even been a contender for Nationals this year. Something that which had angered Atobe and Sanada both, they equally wanted their revenge on the very banes of their existences in their third year of middle school, the very team that had caused them both so much humiliation, not once but twice on both of their behalves. Atobe couldn’t focus on that at the moment, for right now he was staring down a straight ally of determination, with Sanada Genichirou at the other end of it.
Atobe raised the ball up and tossed it into the air, reared back and slammed the tennis ball towards Sanada with all of his might. Breathing heavily from the already exhaustingly long match that was now starting into its third hour, Sanada took a step back and returned it to Atobe’s side with a simple forehand slice with just enough rotation to make the ball bounce askew upon its initial impact with the ground. Atobe already fatigued, both mentally and physically, almost stumbled trying to reach the ball, but missed anyways.
“124 all, Sanada to serve!” The Umpire called out. Atobe cursed under his breath going back to his position on the base line watching Sanada with a scowl. How could he have lost his advantage? How could he afford to lose any of this? He’d worked too hard, wasted too many hours preparing for this match and he wasn’t about to throw it all away because he was a little tired and a little sore.
“Just you wait Sanada,” Atobe glared at the black cap, “You won’t win this time, you won’t beat me, I’m too good to be beaten by the likes of someone like you.”
Atobe prepared himself, watching Sanada bounce the florescent ball a few times, before throwing it up into the air and skillfully hitting it across the courts as he had done a thousand or more times before this match, and would probably do a thousand more times after this match. Atobe sucked in a breath, willing his legs to move, and got into position to return back to Sanada’s side, straight down the baseline for what would hopefully be an easy return ace. It was, Sanada had tried an early prediction of Atobe’s shot, and failed at it, starting towards the opposite side of the court.
“125-124, Atobe to serve!”
This time it was Sanada’s turn to curse, hanging his head for the poor judgment and unforced error on his part. He couldn’t afford to lose this time. The unbreakable law of Ouja Rikkai Dai would follow Sanada all the way to his grave if need be. “Losing is unacceptable.”
They were both exhausted far beyond their physical means, running now on nothing but pure tenacity, both not wanting to face the possible face that they might lose this match. School pride was riding on who won. For Rikkai this was their way to restore their pride after the embarrassing defeat by Seishun Gakuen last year. For Hyoutei, it was just the glory of winning, pushing Rikkai further down into their sink hole of low moral. That’s what Atobe wanted to do, he wanted to crush Sanada all of this court, to take him down a few more notches from his high spot on the pedestal. There could only be one at the top, and this time it wouldn’t be an Emperor, no this time it would be a true ruler, a true monarch, a King.
Sanada watched as Atobe glared across the net at him. Challenging him to dare out last him in this battle of will power, something that Sanada knew that Atobe just might give him a good run for his money on. Sanada, however, knew how stubborn Atobe could be, and he knew that he could be just as stubborn when the time called for it. His kendo discipline made battles like this all the more easier, where as Atobe had no such training or discipline. Because of this Sanada couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the thought of Atobe winning. Then he frowned, if Atobe won this match, did that mean that Sanada would lose his rival? Sure there were others who wished to be his rival, but Atobe along with Tezuka were the only two that he chose put up a good enough fight against him to make it worth his wile to call them such. If Atobe won, then wouldn’t Atobe look at Sanada as if he wasn’t worth the time and effort anymore? Surprisingly, Sanada didn’t want that, he couldn’t really think of tennis without Atobe there to fight against him and challenge him to pursue further in his training. Bettering himself and perfecting his skills, both of them working towards the common goal of besting the other once and for all. Sanada didn’t want this match to end, no matter how tired he might be, he didn’t want this to end because that would mean that one of them would finally beat the other.
Blinking in sudden realization that another point had been called, Sanada look at the Umpire, then at Atobe.
“Fault!” The Umpire called. Atobe was getting tired now, his serves were slower, his aim was a little off, hell just getting his legs to move was a large enough chore, but he wouldn’t back down. Sanada Genichirou wouldn’t be allowed to win. He had to beat him; he had to best him finally. This was Atobe’s dream, to wipe the smug looks off of Sanada’s face, and to prove once and for all that Ouja Rikkai Dai was nothing but a joke and that the true emperors of the courts, Hyoutei, would be rulers and kings.
Atobe looked up and across the net at Sanada, who at the moment, looked a bit confused as to what just happened. He wasn’t paying attention anymore from what Atobe could see and tell. If he wasn’t paying attention to the match then he wasn’t paying attention to anything, because nothing could be more important than this match.
Sanada watched Atobe this time, watched him bounce the tennis ball against the clay court, watched him raise the ball above his head with his long, delicate arms, ball perched in Atobe’s perfect well manicured hands, hands that didn’t show the amount of work that Atobe put into his tennis. Sanada just watched him. He looked to Atobe’s face, the determined upturn of his chin, Atobe’s clear ice-blue eyes that flicked from the ball to Sanada and back, his mouth pulled into a tight line, no smirk or arrogant look graced any feature of his Hyoutei rival. It was then that Sanada saw it, just as the sunlight hit Atobe’s body just right that it cause a heavenly glow to form around him, showing every godly feature possible. He was, to say the least from Sanada, beautiful, completely mesmerizing, so much so that Sanada actually stared at him, not even blinking. When Atobe’s serve went speeding past him, he didn’t look away, he couldn’t look away.
Atobe couldn’t believe it, let along understand what had just occurred. The final score 126-124, Atobe’s win, Hyoutei taking the number one national spot and the prestigious title that went with it. This, of course, made everyone of the members of the Hyoutei side burst out into cheers and chants of Atobe’s name and “Hyoutei is the winner.” Atobe however was livid, not at the fact that he had one, but how he had. Sanada had thrown the match, that was all there was to it in Atobe’s eyes.
‘Did Sanada really just?’ Atobe thought in confusion as he forced himself to take a step forward towards the net to meet Sanada ‘Does he really think so little of me as a player and opponent that I can’t win a match on my own? I’ve won plenty of matches before this one without any help or any such thing.’ By the time Atobe made it to the net, he was almost red with anger and exhaustion. The more he thought of the disgraceful way the match had ended, the more he wanted to reach across the net and hit Sanada. This wasn’t supposed to be how Hyoutei claimed their victory, Rikkai was supposed to lose honorably, and with a good fight at the end, not just hang it up and hand the National title over on a silver platter.
Sanada was the first to reach his hand out to shake. Atobe looked down at it like it was diseased and couldn’t possibly believe ever touching such a thing, but he reached out and gave Sanada’s hand a quick, curt, forceful shake, glaring at the hands owner all the while. Atobe then turned to the Umpire and shook his hand before walking off back to the Hyoutei side, glaring at the ground with every step. Sanada watched Atobe’s back for a moment before shaking the Umpire’s hand and going back to his side, where the sounds were extremely quiet, and the mood a bit more somber than the one of Atobe’s side.
Please review! All comments are greatly welcomed and appreciated as well as critisism.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Tango (SanadaxAtobe)
Rating: PG (For this chapter they will change as the story progresses I believe)
Word count: 1,563
Chapter: 1/?
Warnings: Sanada being a weirdy...
Disclaimers: Pretty obvious that I own nothing and make no money off of this, because if I could I'd have college paid for by now...
Summery: Just a basic story of how Sanada and Atobe came to be, starting with their match at Nationals. Singles 1 finals Rikkai vs. Hyoutei, Sanada Genichirou vs. Atobe Keigo? (Wow the cheesyness of it all)
This was it, the final point, all Atobe needed was just one more point and this hellish fight would be over with. Nationals this year had been rather tough on Hyoutei, their opponent being the infamous Rikkai Dai. Seishun Gakuen, without the aid of their little brat, hadn’t even been a contender for Nationals this year. Something that which had angered Atobe and Sanada both, they equally wanted their revenge on the very banes of their existences in their third year of middle school, the very team that had caused them both so much humiliation, not once but twice on both of their behalves. Atobe couldn’t focus on that at the moment, for right now he was staring down a straight ally of determination, with Sanada Genichirou at the other end of it.
Atobe raised the ball up and tossed it into the air, reared back and slammed the tennis ball towards Sanada with all of his might. Breathing heavily from the already exhaustingly long match that was now starting into its third hour, Sanada took a step back and returned it to Atobe’s side with a simple forehand slice with just enough rotation to make the ball bounce askew upon its initial impact with the ground. Atobe already fatigued, both mentally and physically, almost stumbled trying to reach the ball, but missed anyways.
“124 all, Sanada to serve!” The Umpire called out. Atobe cursed under his breath going back to his position on the base line watching Sanada with a scowl. How could he have lost his advantage? How could he afford to lose any of this? He’d worked too hard, wasted too many hours preparing for this match and he wasn’t about to throw it all away because he was a little tired and a little sore.
“Just you wait Sanada,” Atobe glared at the black cap, “You won’t win this time, you won’t beat me, I’m too good to be beaten by the likes of someone like you.”
Atobe prepared himself, watching Sanada bounce the florescent ball a few times, before throwing it up into the air and skillfully hitting it across the courts as he had done a thousand or more times before this match, and would probably do a thousand more times after this match. Atobe sucked in a breath, willing his legs to move, and got into position to return back to Sanada’s side, straight down the baseline for what would hopefully be an easy return ace. It was, Sanada had tried an early prediction of Atobe’s shot, and failed at it, starting towards the opposite side of the court.
“125-124, Atobe to serve!”
This time it was Sanada’s turn to curse, hanging his head for the poor judgment and unforced error on his part. He couldn’t afford to lose this time. The unbreakable law of Ouja Rikkai Dai would follow Sanada all the way to his grave if need be. “Losing is unacceptable.”
They were both exhausted far beyond their physical means, running now on nothing but pure tenacity, both not wanting to face the possible face that they might lose this match. School pride was riding on who won. For Rikkai this was their way to restore their pride after the embarrassing defeat by Seishun Gakuen last year. For Hyoutei, it was just the glory of winning, pushing Rikkai further down into their sink hole of low moral. That’s what Atobe wanted to do, he wanted to crush Sanada all of this court, to take him down a few more notches from his high spot on the pedestal. There could only be one at the top, and this time it wouldn’t be an Emperor, no this time it would be a true ruler, a true monarch, a King.
Sanada watched as Atobe glared across the net at him. Challenging him to dare out last him in this battle of will power, something that Sanada knew that Atobe just might give him a good run for his money on. Sanada, however, knew how stubborn Atobe could be, and he knew that he could be just as stubborn when the time called for it. His kendo discipline made battles like this all the more easier, where as Atobe had no such training or discipline. Because of this Sanada couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the thought of Atobe winning. Then he frowned, if Atobe won this match, did that mean that Sanada would lose his rival? Sure there were others who wished to be his rival, but Atobe along with Tezuka were the only two that he chose put up a good enough fight against him to make it worth his wile to call them such. If Atobe won, then wouldn’t Atobe look at Sanada as if he wasn’t worth the time and effort anymore? Surprisingly, Sanada didn’t want that, he couldn’t really think of tennis without Atobe there to fight against him and challenge him to pursue further in his training. Bettering himself and perfecting his skills, both of them working towards the common goal of besting the other once and for all. Sanada didn’t want this match to end, no matter how tired he might be, he didn’t want this to end because that would mean that one of them would finally beat the other.
Blinking in sudden realization that another point had been called, Sanada look at the Umpire, then at Atobe.
“Fault!” The Umpire called. Atobe was getting tired now, his serves were slower, his aim was a little off, hell just getting his legs to move was a large enough chore, but he wouldn’t back down. Sanada Genichirou wouldn’t be allowed to win. He had to beat him; he had to best him finally. This was Atobe’s dream, to wipe the smug looks off of Sanada’s face, and to prove once and for all that Ouja Rikkai Dai was nothing but a joke and that the true emperors of the courts, Hyoutei, would be rulers and kings.
Atobe looked up and across the net at Sanada, who at the moment, looked a bit confused as to what just happened. He wasn’t paying attention anymore from what Atobe could see and tell. If he wasn’t paying attention to the match then he wasn’t paying attention to anything, because nothing could be more important than this match.
Sanada watched Atobe this time, watched him bounce the tennis ball against the clay court, watched him raise the ball above his head with his long, delicate arms, ball perched in Atobe’s perfect well manicured hands, hands that didn’t show the amount of work that Atobe put into his tennis. Sanada just watched him. He looked to Atobe’s face, the determined upturn of his chin, Atobe’s clear ice-blue eyes that flicked from the ball to Sanada and back, his mouth pulled into a tight line, no smirk or arrogant look graced any feature of his Hyoutei rival. It was then that Sanada saw it, just as the sunlight hit Atobe’s body just right that it cause a heavenly glow to form around him, showing every godly feature possible. He was, to say the least from Sanada, beautiful, completely mesmerizing, so much so that Sanada actually stared at him, not even blinking. When Atobe’s serve went speeding past him, he didn’t look away, he couldn’t look away.
Atobe couldn’t believe it, let along understand what had just occurred. The final score 126-124, Atobe’s win, Hyoutei taking the number one national spot and the prestigious title that went with it. This, of course, made everyone of the members of the Hyoutei side burst out into cheers and chants of Atobe’s name and “Hyoutei is the winner.” Atobe however was livid, not at the fact that he had one, but how he had. Sanada had thrown the match, that was all there was to it in Atobe’s eyes.
‘Did Sanada really just?’ Atobe thought in confusion as he forced himself to take a step forward towards the net to meet Sanada ‘Does he really think so little of me as a player and opponent that I can’t win a match on my own? I’ve won plenty of matches before this one without any help or any such thing.’ By the time Atobe made it to the net, he was almost red with anger and exhaustion. The more he thought of the disgraceful way the match had ended, the more he wanted to reach across the net and hit Sanada. This wasn’t supposed to be how Hyoutei claimed their victory, Rikkai was supposed to lose honorably, and with a good fight at the end, not just hang it up and hand the National title over on a silver platter.
Sanada was the first to reach his hand out to shake. Atobe looked down at it like it was diseased and couldn’t possibly believe ever touching such a thing, but he reached out and gave Sanada’s hand a quick, curt, forceful shake, glaring at the hands owner all the while. Atobe then turned to the Umpire and shook his hand before walking off back to the Hyoutei side, glaring at the ground with every step. Sanada watched Atobe’s back for a moment before shaking the Umpire’s hand and going back to his side, where the sounds were extremely quiet, and the mood a bit more somber than the one of Atobe’s side.
Please review! All comments are greatly welcomed and appreciated as well as critisism.