Yay, fic!
I feel like I have been out of the loop for ages. Spring Fluff, and real life and stuff. XD;
Ah well.
Anyway...
Title: Kabaji Has a Girlfriend
Pairing(s): Oshitari/Atobe, background Kabaji/OFC
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~4500
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis isn't mine.
A/N: Well. Once upon a time I promised bloodyteaspoon I would write her a long OshiAto get-together fic. And... I did. I even sort of like the way it came out. Please let me know what you think.
Kabaji Has a Girlfriend
The new school year - his first year at high school - doesn’t start off with a bang, as Atobe liked to imagine it would, but rather at a soft, conventional note. They are freshmen now, he and those others from the tennis club who started high school at the same time with him; new at the school and ready to prove themselves in a new club, with a new coach, and a whole new set of tournaments. But apart from this grand feeling of beginning, nothing extraordinary has happened. His classmates are more or less the same - Oshitari is in his class now, unlike last year, and Gakuto and Jirou aren’t in his homeroom class anymore, but that’s the only significant change, and even that isn’t too hard to get used to.
As for tennis, he’s slightly disappointed when he discovers that even though they are known, no one pays any special attention to the new freshmen and their success at the Nationals of last year. He doesn’t need to work hard to prove himself - Atobe can’t ever imagine a situation when he has to truly prove himself, anyway - but he does have to work hard, and that irritates him in the beginning, and makes practice hours long and boring later on. It isn’t something he should concern himself with too much, he decides after a while. His time for greatness will come, and meanwhile let it not be said that Ore-sama’s prowess can be damaged simply by having to pick up some balls from the court.
No, as far as Atobe is concerned, high school hasn’t changed his life as much as he expected, or even as he would’ve liked it to. The only change that is really felt, in his opinion, is the absence of Kabaji’s constant presence behind him; his devoted henchman is still in junior high, and therefore cannot allow himself to be there with Atobe entirely all the time. Atobe misses him, sometimes, more than he realized he would - sometimes he finds himself snapping his fingers, or trying to make a point, and that void behind him instead of the usual curt, unconditioned agreement feels ridiculously empty.
But even that isn’t that real a change, since Kabaji still accompanies him obediently home after school every day, and since Atobe doesn’t need his silent support as much as he used to, anyway, not with all the arrogant second and third years at the club who won’t even bother talking to him, as if he’s a mere freshman. All in all, life is just as it used to be, and Atobe doesn’t know whether to be grateful, or furious.
He settles on cautious content, and the days go by.
When change finally does arrive, it is no wonder then that it is completely unexpected.
**
Atobe doesn’t notice her, at first. He’s so used to being followed around that one more girl barely makes a difference, especially if she’s shy and tends to conceal herself like this one does. When he does notice the hesitant brown-haired creature he smirks to himself and mentally adds another number to his ever-growing fan base. He’s glad to see that he hasn’t lost his status among the junior-high students, even if their admiration means little to him now.
He finds out the true intentions of his newly found stalker on one clear, cold day, at the courts of the junior-high-school tennis club.
He arrives there straight after practice, and waits for Kabaji to finish and join him - one of the small changes he would’ve gladly given up on, since he’s just a freshman, while Kabaji is a third year, and he hates to wait for other people like that. It is then that he sees her clearly for the first time, and not behind a tree or trying to hide between the parking cars. Her face isn’t shy as usual - it is full of excitement, and the girl herself is standing on tiptoes next to the railing around the courts, looking eagerly at the regulars playing. Atobe follows her gaze and his eyes lock on Kabaji, and he doesn’t know whether everything suddenly falls into place or into pieces.
So. That girl is infatuated with Kabaji.
He doesn’t feel disappointed as much as surprised, and perhaps somewhat angry with himself for being so blind and foolish. He doesn’t know what he should’ve done, though - and the more he continues watching the enthusiastic little third year, he realizes he still doesn’t know what to do. Asking Kabaji for his opinion would be pointless; Atobe isn’t even sure Kabaji would have an opinion on the matter, at all. On the other hand, not telling him would seem a little unfair, even cruel, towards both him and the young broad. Atobe finds that he feels strangely protective towards Kabaji, as if suddenly knowing that his faithful follower could have a life of his own makes him responsible for that life too, and not just his own.
He closes his eyes briefly and wishes he were back in junior-high.
When he opens them the wind hits his face, and he has to blink hard to prevent them from tearing. Kabaji is approaching him, finally done with his own practice, and without a word he turns around and walks outside of the courts.
From the corner of his eye he can see the girl starting to follow them, all enthusiasm gone and replaced with the caution and fear he has learned to recognize by now. He sighs, shakes his head, and quickens his steps towards the exit of the school.
Kabaji follows him without a word.
**
The next time he goes home with Kabaji, that girl follows them again. This day it’s raining, and through the wintry haze and the pouring rain he can barely see Kabaji’s face when he sends him a searching look. He’s pretty sure it’s expressionless as usual, anyway.
The girl behind them is having a hard time with her umbrella, and Atobe snorts in disgust. Girls shouldn’t be so meek. He sees no point in their being, actually, at all - why does this one bother to go through all the effort of following someone, if she’ll forever be scared of approaching that person? What’s the point in that attitude at all?
He huffs impatiently and urges Kabaji to hurry on, before the thought hits him that the girl might just be afraid of him, and not of Kabaji.
Now that’s an interesting notion to entertain.
He feels somewhat guilty, though, when he hears a distant yelp behind him and he know that her umbrella has finally given up for good. So he turns to Kabaji, and without any apparent reason he suddenly tells him “That girl behind us, she’s following you.”
“Usu,” Kabaji nods his head once, in recognition.
They continue walking, Kabaji keeping a fixed distance of one step behind Atobe. The rain taps softly on their umbrellas, and the few cars that pass by make swishing noises as they move on the wet asphalt road.
“I think she’s quite fond of you, actually,” Atobe adds and raises his voice a little above the wind. He adds the next sentence seemingly as an afterthought, although he has been thinking on it on more than one occasion, in the few days that have passed. “Do you think you would like to ask her out?”
He walks a few more steps until he realizes Kabaji isn’t following him anymore, and then stops and turns around. Kabaji is standing still, his head lowered, his gaze fixed on the ground. His shoulders are hunched in a piteous manner, and his umbrella is hanging loosely in his hand, useless now against the rain and the wind.
Atobe walks towards him hesitantly and simply says, “Let’s go, Kabaji.”
Kabaji nods once and follows him, the umbrella still lying forgotten by his side.
“Think about it,” Atobe wants to add, but he doesn’t say a word. Not yet, since Kabaji obviously isn’t ready for that. Instead Atobe purses his lips together tightly and decides he’ll have to think about it instead, by himself.
**
It takes him three more days to give up and order Kabaji to go out with the girl.
He can’t help it - not now, after he’s started noticing the way Kabaji has been acting lately, how he always seems more relaxed when he knows that girl is following him, even if he never mentions it in any way. The timid glances, the slight embarrassment whenever Atobe raises the subject - Atobe really hopes he’ll never have to face things like these himself, since they all seem so pointless, not to mention time consuming. But this newly recognized patronizing streak towards Kabaji in him can’t let him drop the subject, and so he stops in his tracks one bright morning, when he realizes they’re being followed again, and promptly orders Kabaji to do something about the matter.
“Ask her out,” he tells Kabaji and points with his head towards the girl who looks puzzled and a little embarrassed. “Today, after practice. I’m sure she’ll be waiting for you.”
“Usu,” Kabaji nods obediently.
Atobe tries to read his expression, but fails. He doesn’t seem displeased, however, so he guesses this is a good sign.
They resume their walking towards school and, after a while, Atobe can see the girl beginning to walk again as well, following them silently all the way up to the gate.
**
It is a weird feeling, knowing that no one will wait for him at the end of the day, all ready to accompany him home. Atobe has never thought of Kabaji’s company as a necessity, really: he was just always there, and that was the way things have always been.
Not anymore, though.
He stays late in the courts, after practice, slamming a single ball into the wall over and over again, not really sure what he’s trying to achieve. Oshitari lingers behind the rest of the team and watches him quietly for a while, his eyes serious behind his glasses, but in the end he leaves just like the rest of them without trying even once to ask Atobe what is wrong.
It's better that way. He is not sure he could explain at the moment what is bothering him so much anyway.
Atobe grits his teeth and holds his racket more firmly, swinging it forcefully whenever the strings encounter the ball. It’s a soft thwack sound when the racket hits the ball, a louder one when the ball hits the wall, and Atobe concentrates on those movements for a while, until a thin layer of sweat covers his brow and his breaths come out loud and uneven in the cold, quiet air around him. He catches the ball in his hand and pockets it, then loosens his hold on the racket and turns towards the changing rooms.
He packs his tennis equipment, wipes the sweat off his brow, and tries to stabilize his breath. Then he shoulders his bag, grips the ball in his pocket tightly and turns to leave.
The way home, after he exits school, is long and lonely, and his heart is still beating loudly in his chest from his previous activity. He wraps himself up in his coat against the wind and walks on obstinately, shoulders hunched together and hands clenched tightly into fists.
The way home has really never seemed longer. He can’t recall a single time he had to go this way alone.
**
On the morning after, both Kabaji and the girl are waiting for him outside his house. Atobe tries to shake away the weird feeling it causes him, like something is not quite right, or in its place, and approaches them with a straight face.
“Atobe-sama!” The girl bursts into an excited call. “Thank you!”
It seems that her shyness problem, at least, was solved. Atobe notes this with satisfaction and forgets, for a moment, the strange feeling of solitude he felt a moment ago.
He puts on his best “Ore-sama” face and nears them with a wide smirk on his face. “So,” he asks and his voice sounds so sure, he barely recognizes himself. “I take it that he asked you out yesterday?”
The girl nods and her eyes are shining. “I’m Akane Hitomi, nice to meet you!” she bows once and then returns to look straightly at him, the glowing smile still on her face.
Atobe inclines his head once, courteously, and begins walking down the road, towards school. The junior-high couple follows him immediately, Kabaji in his usual slow, stable steps and the girl holding on to him happily, linking her arm with his, and chattering to Atobe all along the way.
They had fun in the date; that much he can gather from the ecstatic babbling and jumping up and down. Apparently Kabaji can talk, although the girl will add nothing further on the subject. It’s not like Atobe has ever doubted that - but still, he is glad to receive a confirmation from an outside source. Knowing that Kabaji has talked to the girl, all by himself, makes him slightly jealous and yet immensely pleased, like watching one of his teammates perform a magnificent hit that Atobe himself has shown him before.
They walk together until the main entrance to Hyotei, where they part ways and Atobe watches the two of them turning towards his former school together, the girl still clinging to Kabaji and speaking to him nonstop, now in a hushed tone and secretive smile.
His lips curve into a smile too, and he’s standing by the gate and trying again to figure out the strange feeling he suddenly has, until he finally shakes his head in exasperation and turns towards the high school.
**
When he arrives at the door of the class he encounter Oshitari, who looks at him strangely and doesn’t let him pass.
Atobe tilts his head backward arrogantly, glad to find at least something familiar he can hold on to in this sea of sudden changes he’s been experiencing lately. “What do you want?”
Oshitari sends him a level gaze. “Is everything alright?” His voice is low but not devoid of concern, and Atobe regrets his cold attitude from before.
“Kabaji has a girlfriend,” he blurts in answer, and then, since he doesn’t know what prompt him to say that, he adds, “probably. I think.”
“Oh?” Oshitari raises an eyebrow and looks at him with intent. “Is that good or bad?” He doesn’t sound as if he’s trying to mock him; he sounds as if he simply wants to know.
Atobe’s shoulders sag a little. He hopes Oshitari doesn’t notice. “I don’t know.”
“Oh,” Oshitari says again, and this time he also moves aside and clears the way into the class.
Atobe doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just walks in and sits in his place, suddenly tired even though the day has just begun.
During the lesson he can feel Oshitari’s eyes on him, can imagine the tensai watching him attentively while chewing his lips in concern.
Atobe doesn’t know what to make of that either.
**
He’s already in the junior-high’s tennis courts when he remembers that Kabaji finishes school early that day, and that he probably took that girl, Akane, out once again. He stands next to the courts and watches the few players who remained there playing, even though it’s a cold day and the junior-high team is definitely not as good as it used to be. He wonders idly what Sakaki-sensei is doing with the team, now that he doesn’t have the perfect combination that led them to Nationals last year. He should really be following more closely on what’s happening with the former team - the Prefectural Tournaments are up soon, and he wonders whether keeping the good players on reserve, like they did last year, would do Hyotei any good this year too.
The wind blows in his face and he sticks his hands in his pockets automatically and wonders about the high school tournaments. They would be foolish not to let him play, a voice whispers in his head, but then he answers to himself: he’s just a freshman, what do they know.
He’s still pretty sure they’ll let him play, even though there’s no line-up yet, but thinking about tennis is nice. He hasn’t done that seriously, in quite a while.
The last of the players on the courts are turning to leave when the wind gets stronger, and Atobe ponders leaving too and going home alone again when he feels a slight tap on his shoulder.
He turns around and Oshitari is there, scarf wound tight around his neck, eyes glimmering behind the glasses.
“Hi,” he says, and tries not to look like he was getting too nostalgic a few moments ago.
“Hi,” Oshitari’s grin is slow and warm, like he knows exactly what Atobe is trying to hide.
Atobe shakes that paranoid notion from his head with a polite cough.
“Wanna come over to my house?” Oshitari offers, and now the grin looks less like a smirk and more like a smile. “If you’re not busy, that is. I thought it could be fun.”
He thinks of the empty road home again, and answers “sure.”
They walk together in the howling wind, discussing tennis and school and the latest news from their junior high. He has been to Oshitari’s house before, but not on many occasions, and he has never arrived there by foot before. The way is much different than the way to his own home - actually they should’ve taken the bus, Oshitari apologizes, but he likes walking in this kind of weather - and despite the chilled air around them, Atobe feels warm.
**
On the next time Kabaji has a date, they meet by the school entrance without a previous design, and they exchange glances silently with their hands in their pockets and their backs hunched against the cold.
Then all of a sudden Oshitari is asking, “are you busy today?” and Atobe says, at the same time, “do you feel like playing?” and then both of them laugh uneasily, and then easily, and without another word they set their steps towards the tennis courts together.
They play with ease, not so much because of them as because of the weather and conditions, and it’s enough of a game to make them both sweat and sigh contentedly when they call it a match and sit down to regain their breaths. Oshitari has improved a lot, during the Nationals and their short period at high school, and Atobe wants to praise him but then remembers he’s not the Hyotei captain anymore, so he settles on saying “good game.”
Oshitari nods and sprawls on the bench leisurely, and then says casually “it’s the first time we’ve played together like this.”
Atobe thinks for a moment and then hums in agreement.
“It was nice,” Oshitari takes off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt and sends him a playful look. “We should do that again sometime, if you want.”
“We should,” he agrees, and they settle into a comfortable silence until he can’t resist adding “but next time, we count the points.”
Oshitari chuckles at that, and Atobe smirks back at him, and they end up sitting on that bench together until late afternoon.
**
On the next time they go to Oshitari’s place again, but this time they take the bus. His sister is coming over that evening, Oshitari explains, and there is much to be done. They eat lunch together in the quiet, much smaller than Atobe’s dining room, and after contemplating for a while Oshitari sends him to wash the dishes while he cleans the house.
Atobe tries to protest and claim that he has no idea how to do this, but Oshitari shuts him up when he says that if Hyotei’s former tensai could do it, then the former captain should probably be able to do it too.
He grumbles because now he can’t back away anymore, and turns on the water in the sink. Oshitari shouts at him from the living room that he can still hear him, so if he would mumble more silently please that would be nice, and Atobe decides that he would show the arrogant tensai his place and begins washing the dishes. Really, not being in captain position has made his teammates forget their places, apparently.
Washing the dishes turns out to be a pretty simple task, and Atobe recalls the few times when he had to do similar tasks in his own home. He always told Kabaji to do it, of course, so he never got any actual experience from that. He frowns when he remembers Kabaji, and wonders where he is now, but then he is done with the dishes and Oshitari calls him to help him with the vacuum cleaner, and then he has to show Oshitari the sight of his prowess with the dishes to make sure Oshitari is properly awed. The tensai laughs so hard he falls on one of the couches and they have to make it up all over again.
Atobe decides that he finds the sound of Oshitari’s voice soothing, and that he doesn’t mind that much engaging himself in domestic tasks such as that and washing the dishes, as long as he’s in good company. It isn’t what he’s been used to up till now, but it’s nice.
**
At some point Kabaji stops coming over to wait by his house in the mornings. Atobe supposes there is some sense in that. Kabaji’s house is closer to Hyotei than Atobe’s, and ever since he ordered Kabaji to go out with that girl, what’s her name, he has been more attentive to her whims and wills than to Atobe’s.
Strangely enough, Atobe discovers he doesn’t care as much anymore.
The morning after he mentions Kabaji’s absence to Oshitari though, he finds the tensai waiting for him in the street bellow his house. Oshitari smiles and greets him with a supposedly serious expression, and only his eyes show his amusement at Atobe’s surprise.
“What are you doing here?” Atobe forgets tact for a second, not that it ever really mattered with Oshitari.
“Didn’t want you to be lonely,” Oshitari widens his smile and lets some of the amusement into it right now, baring his teeth momentarily in the winter sun.
“This is the opposite direction from school to you,” Atobe tries to say in a criticizing voice, failing in ignoring the warm feeling that suddenly spread in his chest at Oshitari’s words. “Just because Kabaji stopped coming doesn’t mean I can’t find my way to school on my own, you know.”
Oshitari winks. “I could use the practice.”
Atobe raises an eyebrow.
Oshitari shook his head in mock solemnity. “Even a tennis tensai needs to work out, sometimes.”
Atobe rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically, but waits for Oshitari to catch up to him before he begins walking down the usual road to school. The tensai is probably a little crazy, but Atobe doesn’t mind. He enjoys the company.
**
He sees Kabaji and Akane together sometimes. The girl is ridiculously smaller than Kabaji, and yet still hanging on to his arm and bouncing excitedly up and down whenever she can, at least from what Atobe has seen. Kabaji still comes over to visit Atobe once in a while, although Atobe suspects that it’s more out of politeness and their families’ connection than anything else. He doesn’t mind it that much, though. It took him time, but he figures that if it really did bother him, he wouldn’t have told Kabaji to go out with her on the first place. He didn’t mean to initiate this change, but now that it happened, he has to admit it probably was for the best.
On the other hand, he spends a lot more time with Oshitari now, and he realizes that he likes that pretty much. It’s also a sort of change - a good change.
He still doesn’t know Oshitari’s reasons for hanging out with him, though. He’s grateful; but he doesn’t know why. Seeing as he can't be plainly grateful for something he doesn't know the cause of, he decides to ask.
**
It’s nearly spring, the air already warm and buzzing with life, and they have just finished a match and are now sitting on a bench near the junior-high courts and watching the freshmen - the young ones, real freshmen - picking up balls and readying the courts for the practice next day. Prefecturals are up in a week, and both sections of the school - junior-high and high - can barely contain all the excitement.
Atobe has been officially announced as one of the players in the tournament, and he recalls it now and chuckles to himself quietly.
“What is it?” Oshitari asks and elbows him gently, repositioning himself until he has found a more comfortable pose on the bench, and his ankle is touching Atobe’s shin delicately.
“Nothing,” Atobe says in a haughty expression and then punches him lightly on the arm, to make sure he hasn’t offended him. They’ve become pretty accustomed to each other, but Oshitari can still be a little sensitive, sometimes. Atobe doesn’t mind that as much as he should.
Then he remembers what he’s been meaning to ask for quite a while now. “Say, Oshitari.”
“Yes?” The tensai raises him face towards him and smiles a slow smile, eyes glinting behind the glasses.
“Why…” Atobe feels silly, but he has to know. “Why did you choose to hang out with me, since the beginning of the year? Why did you keep coming to me?”
Oshitari’s smile widens and he stretches his arms lazily before opening his mouth to answer. “Because I wanted to.” The smile breaks into a smirk, although his next words aren't completely devoid of fondness. “And I grew tired of Gakuto. He can be quite a bother sometimes, really.” His voice is barely louder than a whisper, and he’s stretching the syllables and watching Atobe mischievously as he answers.
Atobe swallows, and thinks that he’s never been in such an awkward situation before. “Yeah, but why me?”
A year ago he never would've asked this question, he realizes with a startle. Oshitari answers him.
“I was awed by your prowess, of course.”
Atobe nearly pouts. This is not the time for jokes. His tensai has such an awful sense of humor, sometimes.
“Besides,” and now Oshitari’s face is closer to his somehow, and no trace of the previous playfulness is left in his voice. “Why do you think Hitomi-chan,” he inclines with his head towards the couple on the far end of the courts, “kept coming after Kabaji?”
He can feel Oshitari’s breath on his lips, can see the tensai’s eyes through the glasses, wide and clear and honest, and he closes his eyes and leans forward.
They kiss, and suddenly, finally, the world is back into its place again.
~~~
Right. Crossposting now. Sorry if you've seen this more than one time. And as always, comments are very much appreciated.
Ah well.
Anyway...
Title: Kabaji Has a Girlfriend
Pairing(s): Oshitari/Atobe, background Kabaji/OFC
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~4500
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis isn't mine.
A/N: Well. Once upon a time I promised bloodyteaspoon I would write her a long OshiAto get-together fic. And... I did. I even sort of like the way it came out. Please let me know what you think.
Kabaji Has a Girlfriend
The new school year - his first year at high school - doesn’t start off with a bang, as Atobe liked to imagine it would, but rather at a soft, conventional note. They are freshmen now, he and those others from the tennis club who started high school at the same time with him; new at the school and ready to prove themselves in a new club, with a new coach, and a whole new set of tournaments. But apart from this grand feeling of beginning, nothing extraordinary has happened. His classmates are more or less the same - Oshitari is in his class now, unlike last year, and Gakuto and Jirou aren’t in his homeroom class anymore, but that’s the only significant change, and even that isn’t too hard to get used to.
As for tennis, he’s slightly disappointed when he discovers that even though they are known, no one pays any special attention to the new freshmen and their success at the Nationals of last year. He doesn’t need to work hard to prove himself - Atobe can’t ever imagine a situation when he has to truly prove himself, anyway - but he does have to work hard, and that irritates him in the beginning, and makes practice hours long and boring later on. It isn’t something he should concern himself with too much, he decides after a while. His time for greatness will come, and meanwhile let it not be said that Ore-sama’s prowess can be damaged simply by having to pick up some balls from the court.
No, as far as Atobe is concerned, high school hasn’t changed his life as much as he expected, or even as he would’ve liked it to. The only change that is really felt, in his opinion, is the absence of Kabaji’s constant presence behind him; his devoted henchman is still in junior high, and therefore cannot allow himself to be there with Atobe entirely all the time. Atobe misses him, sometimes, more than he realized he would - sometimes he finds himself snapping his fingers, or trying to make a point, and that void behind him instead of the usual curt, unconditioned agreement feels ridiculously empty.
But even that isn’t that real a change, since Kabaji still accompanies him obediently home after school every day, and since Atobe doesn’t need his silent support as much as he used to, anyway, not with all the arrogant second and third years at the club who won’t even bother talking to him, as if he’s a mere freshman. All in all, life is just as it used to be, and Atobe doesn’t know whether to be grateful, or furious.
He settles on cautious content, and the days go by.
When change finally does arrive, it is no wonder then that it is completely unexpected.
**
Atobe doesn’t notice her, at first. He’s so used to being followed around that one more girl barely makes a difference, especially if she’s shy and tends to conceal herself like this one does. When he does notice the hesitant brown-haired creature he smirks to himself and mentally adds another number to his ever-growing fan base. He’s glad to see that he hasn’t lost his status among the junior-high students, even if their admiration means little to him now.
He finds out the true intentions of his newly found stalker on one clear, cold day, at the courts of the junior-high-school tennis club.
He arrives there straight after practice, and waits for Kabaji to finish and join him - one of the small changes he would’ve gladly given up on, since he’s just a freshman, while Kabaji is a third year, and he hates to wait for other people like that. It is then that he sees her clearly for the first time, and not behind a tree or trying to hide between the parking cars. Her face isn’t shy as usual - it is full of excitement, and the girl herself is standing on tiptoes next to the railing around the courts, looking eagerly at the regulars playing. Atobe follows her gaze and his eyes lock on Kabaji, and he doesn’t know whether everything suddenly falls into place or into pieces.
So. That girl is infatuated with Kabaji.
He doesn’t feel disappointed as much as surprised, and perhaps somewhat angry with himself for being so blind and foolish. He doesn’t know what he should’ve done, though - and the more he continues watching the enthusiastic little third year, he realizes he still doesn’t know what to do. Asking Kabaji for his opinion would be pointless; Atobe isn’t even sure Kabaji would have an opinion on the matter, at all. On the other hand, not telling him would seem a little unfair, even cruel, towards both him and the young broad. Atobe finds that he feels strangely protective towards Kabaji, as if suddenly knowing that his faithful follower could have a life of his own makes him responsible for that life too, and not just his own.
He closes his eyes briefly and wishes he were back in junior-high.
When he opens them the wind hits his face, and he has to blink hard to prevent them from tearing. Kabaji is approaching him, finally done with his own practice, and without a word he turns around and walks outside of the courts.
From the corner of his eye he can see the girl starting to follow them, all enthusiasm gone and replaced with the caution and fear he has learned to recognize by now. He sighs, shakes his head, and quickens his steps towards the exit of the school.
Kabaji follows him without a word.
**
The next time he goes home with Kabaji, that girl follows them again. This day it’s raining, and through the wintry haze and the pouring rain he can barely see Kabaji’s face when he sends him a searching look. He’s pretty sure it’s expressionless as usual, anyway.
The girl behind them is having a hard time with her umbrella, and Atobe snorts in disgust. Girls shouldn’t be so meek. He sees no point in their being, actually, at all - why does this one bother to go through all the effort of following someone, if she’ll forever be scared of approaching that person? What’s the point in that attitude at all?
He huffs impatiently and urges Kabaji to hurry on, before the thought hits him that the girl might just be afraid of him, and not of Kabaji.
Now that’s an interesting notion to entertain.
He feels somewhat guilty, though, when he hears a distant yelp behind him and he know that her umbrella has finally given up for good. So he turns to Kabaji, and without any apparent reason he suddenly tells him “That girl behind us, she’s following you.”
“Usu,” Kabaji nods his head once, in recognition.
They continue walking, Kabaji keeping a fixed distance of one step behind Atobe. The rain taps softly on their umbrellas, and the few cars that pass by make swishing noises as they move on the wet asphalt road.
“I think she’s quite fond of you, actually,” Atobe adds and raises his voice a little above the wind. He adds the next sentence seemingly as an afterthought, although he has been thinking on it on more than one occasion, in the few days that have passed. “Do you think you would like to ask her out?”
He walks a few more steps until he realizes Kabaji isn’t following him anymore, and then stops and turns around. Kabaji is standing still, his head lowered, his gaze fixed on the ground. His shoulders are hunched in a piteous manner, and his umbrella is hanging loosely in his hand, useless now against the rain and the wind.
Atobe walks towards him hesitantly and simply says, “Let’s go, Kabaji.”
Kabaji nods once and follows him, the umbrella still lying forgotten by his side.
“Think about it,” Atobe wants to add, but he doesn’t say a word. Not yet, since Kabaji obviously isn’t ready for that. Instead Atobe purses his lips together tightly and decides he’ll have to think about it instead, by himself.
**
It takes him three more days to give up and order Kabaji to go out with the girl.
He can’t help it - not now, after he’s started noticing the way Kabaji has been acting lately, how he always seems more relaxed when he knows that girl is following him, even if he never mentions it in any way. The timid glances, the slight embarrassment whenever Atobe raises the subject - Atobe really hopes he’ll never have to face things like these himself, since they all seem so pointless, not to mention time consuming. But this newly recognized patronizing streak towards Kabaji in him can’t let him drop the subject, and so he stops in his tracks one bright morning, when he realizes they’re being followed again, and promptly orders Kabaji to do something about the matter.
“Ask her out,” he tells Kabaji and points with his head towards the girl who looks puzzled and a little embarrassed. “Today, after practice. I’m sure she’ll be waiting for you.”
“Usu,” Kabaji nods obediently.
Atobe tries to read his expression, but fails. He doesn’t seem displeased, however, so he guesses this is a good sign.
They resume their walking towards school and, after a while, Atobe can see the girl beginning to walk again as well, following them silently all the way up to the gate.
**
It is a weird feeling, knowing that no one will wait for him at the end of the day, all ready to accompany him home. Atobe has never thought of Kabaji’s company as a necessity, really: he was just always there, and that was the way things have always been.
Not anymore, though.
He stays late in the courts, after practice, slamming a single ball into the wall over and over again, not really sure what he’s trying to achieve. Oshitari lingers behind the rest of the team and watches him quietly for a while, his eyes serious behind his glasses, but in the end he leaves just like the rest of them without trying even once to ask Atobe what is wrong.
It's better that way. He is not sure he could explain at the moment what is bothering him so much anyway.
Atobe grits his teeth and holds his racket more firmly, swinging it forcefully whenever the strings encounter the ball. It’s a soft thwack sound when the racket hits the ball, a louder one when the ball hits the wall, and Atobe concentrates on those movements for a while, until a thin layer of sweat covers his brow and his breaths come out loud and uneven in the cold, quiet air around him. He catches the ball in his hand and pockets it, then loosens his hold on the racket and turns towards the changing rooms.
He packs his tennis equipment, wipes the sweat off his brow, and tries to stabilize his breath. Then he shoulders his bag, grips the ball in his pocket tightly and turns to leave.
The way home, after he exits school, is long and lonely, and his heart is still beating loudly in his chest from his previous activity. He wraps himself up in his coat against the wind and walks on obstinately, shoulders hunched together and hands clenched tightly into fists.
The way home has really never seemed longer. He can’t recall a single time he had to go this way alone.
**
On the morning after, both Kabaji and the girl are waiting for him outside his house. Atobe tries to shake away the weird feeling it causes him, like something is not quite right, or in its place, and approaches them with a straight face.
“Atobe-sama!” The girl bursts into an excited call. “Thank you!”
It seems that her shyness problem, at least, was solved. Atobe notes this with satisfaction and forgets, for a moment, the strange feeling of solitude he felt a moment ago.
He puts on his best “Ore-sama” face and nears them with a wide smirk on his face. “So,” he asks and his voice sounds so sure, he barely recognizes himself. “I take it that he asked you out yesterday?”
The girl nods and her eyes are shining. “I’m Akane Hitomi, nice to meet you!” she bows once and then returns to look straightly at him, the glowing smile still on her face.
Atobe inclines his head once, courteously, and begins walking down the road, towards school. The junior-high couple follows him immediately, Kabaji in his usual slow, stable steps and the girl holding on to him happily, linking her arm with his, and chattering to Atobe all along the way.
They had fun in the date; that much he can gather from the ecstatic babbling and jumping up and down. Apparently Kabaji can talk, although the girl will add nothing further on the subject. It’s not like Atobe has ever doubted that - but still, he is glad to receive a confirmation from an outside source. Knowing that Kabaji has talked to the girl, all by himself, makes him slightly jealous and yet immensely pleased, like watching one of his teammates perform a magnificent hit that Atobe himself has shown him before.
They walk together until the main entrance to Hyotei, where they part ways and Atobe watches the two of them turning towards his former school together, the girl still clinging to Kabaji and speaking to him nonstop, now in a hushed tone and secretive smile.
His lips curve into a smile too, and he’s standing by the gate and trying again to figure out the strange feeling he suddenly has, until he finally shakes his head in exasperation and turns towards the high school.
**
When he arrives at the door of the class he encounter Oshitari, who looks at him strangely and doesn’t let him pass.
Atobe tilts his head backward arrogantly, glad to find at least something familiar he can hold on to in this sea of sudden changes he’s been experiencing lately. “What do you want?”
Oshitari sends him a level gaze. “Is everything alright?” His voice is low but not devoid of concern, and Atobe regrets his cold attitude from before.
“Kabaji has a girlfriend,” he blurts in answer, and then, since he doesn’t know what prompt him to say that, he adds, “probably. I think.”
“Oh?” Oshitari raises an eyebrow and looks at him with intent. “Is that good or bad?” He doesn’t sound as if he’s trying to mock him; he sounds as if he simply wants to know.
Atobe’s shoulders sag a little. He hopes Oshitari doesn’t notice. “I don’t know.”
“Oh,” Oshitari says again, and this time he also moves aside and clears the way into the class.
Atobe doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just walks in and sits in his place, suddenly tired even though the day has just begun.
During the lesson he can feel Oshitari’s eyes on him, can imagine the tensai watching him attentively while chewing his lips in concern.
Atobe doesn’t know what to make of that either.
**
He’s already in the junior-high’s tennis courts when he remembers that Kabaji finishes school early that day, and that he probably took that girl, Akane, out once again. He stands next to the courts and watches the few players who remained there playing, even though it’s a cold day and the junior-high team is definitely not as good as it used to be. He wonders idly what Sakaki-sensei is doing with the team, now that he doesn’t have the perfect combination that led them to Nationals last year. He should really be following more closely on what’s happening with the former team - the Prefectural Tournaments are up soon, and he wonders whether keeping the good players on reserve, like they did last year, would do Hyotei any good this year too.
The wind blows in his face and he sticks his hands in his pockets automatically and wonders about the high school tournaments. They would be foolish not to let him play, a voice whispers in his head, but then he answers to himself: he’s just a freshman, what do they know.
He’s still pretty sure they’ll let him play, even though there’s no line-up yet, but thinking about tennis is nice. He hasn’t done that seriously, in quite a while.
The last of the players on the courts are turning to leave when the wind gets stronger, and Atobe ponders leaving too and going home alone again when he feels a slight tap on his shoulder.
He turns around and Oshitari is there, scarf wound tight around his neck, eyes glimmering behind the glasses.
“Hi,” he says, and tries not to look like he was getting too nostalgic a few moments ago.
“Hi,” Oshitari’s grin is slow and warm, like he knows exactly what Atobe is trying to hide.
Atobe shakes that paranoid notion from his head with a polite cough.
“Wanna come over to my house?” Oshitari offers, and now the grin looks less like a smirk and more like a smile. “If you’re not busy, that is. I thought it could be fun.”
He thinks of the empty road home again, and answers “sure.”
They walk together in the howling wind, discussing tennis and school and the latest news from their junior high. He has been to Oshitari’s house before, but not on many occasions, and he has never arrived there by foot before. The way is much different than the way to his own home - actually they should’ve taken the bus, Oshitari apologizes, but he likes walking in this kind of weather - and despite the chilled air around them, Atobe feels warm.
**
On the next time Kabaji has a date, they meet by the school entrance without a previous design, and they exchange glances silently with their hands in their pockets and their backs hunched against the cold.
Then all of a sudden Oshitari is asking, “are you busy today?” and Atobe says, at the same time, “do you feel like playing?” and then both of them laugh uneasily, and then easily, and without another word they set their steps towards the tennis courts together.
They play with ease, not so much because of them as because of the weather and conditions, and it’s enough of a game to make them both sweat and sigh contentedly when they call it a match and sit down to regain their breaths. Oshitari has improved a lot, during the Nationals and their short period at high school, and Atobe wants to praise him but then remembers he’s not the Hyotei captain anymore, so he settles on saying “good game.”
Oshitari nods and sprawls on the bench leisurely, and then says casually “it’s the first time we’ve played together like this.”
Atobe thinks for a moment and then hums in agreement.
“It was nice,” Oshitari takes off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt and sends him a playful look. “We should do that again sometime, if you want.”
“We should,” he agrees, and they settle into a comfortable silence until he can’t resist adding “but next time, we count the points.”
Oshitari chuckles at that, and Atobe smirks back at him, and they end up sitting on that bench together until late afternoon.
**
On the next time they go to Oshitari’s place again, but this time they take the bus. His sister is coming over that evening, Oshitari explains, and there is much to be done. They eat lunch together in the quiet, much smaller than Atobe’s dining room, and after contemplating for a while Oshitari sends him to wash the dishes while he cleans the house.
Atobe tries to protest and claim that he has no idea how to do this, but Oshitari shuts him up when he says that if Hyotei’s former tensai could do it, then the former captain should probably be able to do it too.
He grumbles because now he can’t back away anymore, and turns on the water in the sink. Oshitari shouts at him from the living room that he can still hear him, so if he would mumble more silently please that would be nice, and Atobe decides that he would show the arrogant tensai his place and begins washing the dishes. Really, not being in captain position has made his teammates forget their places, apparently.
Washing the dishes turns out to be a pretty simple task, and Atobe recalls the few times when he had to do similar tasks in his own home. He always told Kabaji to do it, of course, so he never got any actual experience from that. He frowns when he remembers Kabaji, and wonders where he is now, but then he is done with the dishes and Oshitari calls him to help him with the vacuum cleaner, and then he has to show Oshitari the sight of his prowess with the dishes to make sure Oshitari is properly awed. The tensai laughs so hard he falls on one of the couches and they have to make it up all over again.
Atobe decides that he finds the sound of Oshitari’s voice soothing, and that he doesn’t mind that much engaging himself in domestic tasks such as that and washing the dishes, as long as he’s in good company. It isn’t what he’s been used to up till now, but it’s nice.
**
At some point Kabaji stops coming over to wait by his house in the mornings. Atobe supposes there is some sense in that. Kabaji’s house is closer to Hyotei than Atobe’s, and ever since he ordered Kabaji to go out with that girl, what’s her name, he has been more attentive to her whims and wills than to Atobe’s.
Strangely enough, Atobe discovers he doesn’t care as much anymore.
The morning after he mentions Kabaji’s absence to Oshitari though, he finds the tensai waiting for him in the street bellow his house. Oshitari smiles and greets him with a supposedly serious expression, and only his eyes show his amusement at Atobe’s surprise.
“What are you doing here?” Atobe forgets tact for a second, not that it ever really mattered with Oshitari.
“Didn’t want you to be lonely,” Oshitari widens his smile and lets some of the amusement into it right now, baring his teeth momentarily in the winter sun.
“This is the opposite direction from school to you,” Atobe tries to say in a criticizing voice, failing in ignoring the warm feeling that suddenly spread in his chest at Oshitari’s words. “Just because Kabaji stopped coming doesn’t mean I can’t find my way to school on my own, you know.”
Oshitari winks. “I could use the practice.”
Atobe raises an eyebrow.
Oshitari shook his head in mock solemnity. “Even a tennis tensai needs to work out, sometimes.”
Atobe rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically, but waits for Oshitari to catch up to him before he begins walking down the usual road to school. The tensai is probably a little crazy, but Atobe doesn’t mind. He enjoys the company.
**
He sees Kabaji and Akane together sometimes. The girl is ridiculously smaller than Kabaji, and yet still hanging on to his arm and bouncing excitedly up and down whenever she can, at least from what Atobe has seen. Kabaji still comes over to visit Atobe once in a while, although Atobe suspects that it’s more out of politeness and their families’ connection than anything else. He doesn’t mind it that much, though. It took him time, but he figures that if it really did bother him, he wouldn’t have told Kabaji to go out with her on the first place. He didn’t mean to initiate this change, but now that it happened, he has to admit it probably was for the best.
On the other hand, he spends a lot more time with Oshitari now, and he realizes that he likes that pretty much. It’s also a sort of change - a good change.
He still doesn’t know Oshitari’s reasons for hanging out with him, though. He’s grateful; but he doesn’t know why. Seeing as he can't be plainly grateful for something he doesn't know the cause of, he decides to ask.
**
It’s nearly spring, the air already warm and buzzing with life, and they have just finished a match and are now sitting on a bench near the junior-high courts and watching the freshmen - the young ones, real freshmen - picking up balls and readying the courts for the practice next day. Prefecturals are up in a week, and both sections of the school - junior-high and high - can barely contain all the excitement.
Atobe has been officially announced as one of the players in the tournament, and he recalls it now and chuckles to himself quietly.
“What is it?” Oshitari asks and elbows him gently, repositioning himself until he has found a more comfortable pose on the bench, and his ankle is touching Atobe’s shin delicately.
“Nothing,” Atobe says in a haughty expression and then punches him lightly on the arm, to make sure he hasn’t offended him. They’ve become pretty accustomed to each other, but Oshitari can still be a little sensitive, sometimes. Atobe doesn’t mind that as much as he should.
Then he remembers what he’s been meaning to ask for quite a while now. “Say, Oshitari.”
“Yes?” The tensai raises him face towards him and smiles a slow smile, eyes glinting behind the glasses.
“Why…” Atobe feels silly, but he has to know. “Why did you choose to hang out with me, since the beginning of the year? Why did you keep coming to me?”
Oshitari’s smile widens and he stretches his arms lazily before opening his mouth to answer. “Because I wanted to.” The smile breaks into a smirk, although his next words aren't completely devoid of fondness. “And I grew tired of Gakuto. He can be quite a bother sometimes, really.” His voice is barely louder than a whisper, and he’s stretching the syllables and watching Atobe mischievously as he answers.
Atobe swallows, and thinks that he’s never been in such an awkward situation before. “Yeah, but why me?”
A year ago he never would've asked this question, he realizes with a startle. Oshitari answers him.
“I was awed by your prowess, of course.”
Atobe nearly pouts. This is not the time for jokes. His tensai has such an awful sense of humor, sometimes.
“Besides,” and now Oshitari’s face is closer to his somehow, and no trace of the previous playfulness is left in his voice. “Why do you think Hitomi-chan,” he inclines with his head towards the couple on the far end of the courts, “kept coming after Kabaji?”
He can feel Oshitari’s breath on his lips, can see the tensai’s eyes through the glasses, wide and clear and honest, and he closes his eyes and leans forward.
They kiss, and suddenly, finally, the world is back into its place again.
~~~
Right. Crossposting now. Sorry if you've seen this more than one time. And as always, comments are very much appreciated.