Kids and Fic posts
So the 3's have been discussing collections, and one of the things I try to do is get them create dialogue. The first step is usually by me writing out a short conversation on the board with strategically placed blank spots. They simply read the sentences and fill in the blanks with whatever they can think of.
Yesterday's work:
A: What do you collect?
B: I collect ________! I think they're _________ because _____________.
A: I think that's really _________.
B: What do you like to collect?
A: I collect _____________. It's __________________.
B: Wow! I think it's ________________!
Very simple and a good way to get them talking. I did some examples (I like to collect dirty, old sneakers so I can wave them at people and make them run away from the smell [they thought it was hilarious]) and then paired them off to take a minute to come up with their own.
Shawn came up to me and asked how to say Atomic bombs - apparently he'd seen a science show the night before about them and he wanted to collect the ones that didn't work. No, I really don't know.
Anyway. Fast forward to the part where I have them stand up to play out their conversations. Shawn and Jemmy come up to the board and all is well until Shawn proudly looks at me and shouts out:
Shawn: "I collect Atomic BOOBS!"
Instant hysterical laughter from me as I instantly form a mental image of ladies with chests of mass destruction.
And here is chapter 2 of the vaunted Kamio fic.
Title: Life Goes On - 2/?
Author: Stormy1x2 (traveling_storm)
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Word count for chapter 2(fic portion): 4069
Pairings: Non-specific (for now)
Summary: A new year has begun for Fudoumine. Kamio-Buchou tries to run his team, take care of his family, and make something of himself, all without going completely insane. Notes and ficcage under the cut.
Notes: There is a female OC here but she is older than the boys, NOT a love interest, and has only a very minor - and very necessary role to play, as you will read. There are also mentions of OC's as new first year members - and a new regular (to fill the gap left by the graduation of Tachibana). I think you'll be pleased with how they are portrayed.
Also, it's not made clear whether or not teams have exhibition matches, but we always did for basketball. I can't see the tennis team going the whole year with only the Kantou tournament and the Nationals to look forward too - it's too boring. Hence, they schedule exhibition matches with other schools throughout the year. My two cents. ^^
I explained about certain Japanese words in chapter 1. Here, you'll see I've used the words 'sempai' and 'kouhai' and again, it's because there's no English equivalent that sounds ...non-dorky. I mean, c'mon - I don't run around calling people older than me 'upper-classmen' and those younger than me 'under-classmen'. It sounds stupid, and so I've left 'sempai' and 'kouhai' alone.
Everyone speaks Japanese in this fic. When they speak to the OC, it's in English and it's represented by italics.
Special thank you's to everyone who's reviewed so far. I hope you continue to enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. :)
o0o...o0o...o0o
Every day when Kamio reached the grounds of Fudoumine, he took a moment to thank Kami that Sakurai, his Vice-Captain, was in fact the reliable and punctual person that he was. Even if Kamio used the speed he'd hit the day Momoshiro had stolen his bike - a speed born out of sheer determination and desperation, and not one he was able to reproduce on demand (yet) - it still took him anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes to get there from the time he left his siblings on Minagawa-san's doorstep.
Sakurai however, lived about a ten minute walk from the school and as such, had absolutely no problem with getting there first to open the clubhouse, unlock the court gates, and mobilize the first-years into setting up the nets.
By the time Kamio arrived, Sakurai always had everything ready to go - something Kamio sometimes fumed at since he'd never been able to accomplish such things for Tachibana-Buchou on a regular basis - which meant Kamio could immediately begin the practices. Since he counted his run to school as the equivalent of thirty laps around the grounds, he never felt guilty about not joining the Regulars in their morning run. Instead, he usually directed Sakurai to oversee the first years, leaving the Regulars to their own warm up devices. After a year of doing the same morning routine, it wasn't like any of them really needed supervision for the basics, and it gave him time to go over his books Sakurai had brought out from the clubhouse.
Yes, books. Kamio had books. Four of them, to be precise; big thick ones filled with stats, strengths, weaknesses, behaviours and noted patterns. The first two had been filled by Tachibana during Kamio's first year. Page after page of meticulously neat handwriting that put Kamio's to shame, detailing that momentous first year that had been their -and Fudoumine's specifically - true beginning.
The last two had been filled by Kamio himself, full of beginner mistakes and cross-outs; a recording of the time he'd first been told to note down what he saw, his impressions, and how he thought he could help his fellow members improve. During his second year, after Tachibana had appointed him as the official Vice-Captain (and to this day, Kamio still couldn't figure out just why he'd been chosen), the third year Regular had taken Kamio under his wing and trained him for the job he would eventually overtake.
Kamio would never dream of claiming to be as good as his captain had been, but he was still rather proud of his books, particularly the newest one that had fewer cross-outs and globs of white out, and more analytical observations. Tachibana had been a good teacher, patiently pointing out the most minuscule of details that helped make up the whole picture of a player. He had taught him to break down the components of a move to see how they worked, and put them back together in his head with a complete understanding of the shot he'd witnessed. He had drilled Kamio on muscle groups and first aid and how to detect early warning signs of injury, in addition to pushing Kamio into developing his own style of tennis that was on par with any Kantou player.
Kamio had done his best to absorb everything he was told, and then midway through his second year, Tachibana had made him take over the training and note-recording for the few first years that had timidly signed up.
Kamio ran his fingers along the book spines stacked on the bench. Starting in the next couple of months, he was going to have to start the training for whomsoever would be taking over next year. Sakurai had gone through the same 'captain training' that Kamio had, albeit a bit more boot-camp style, as no one had known who was going to take Kamio's job until just after the Nationals that past summer. In effect, he was still learning, working with the first years as Kamio had, but it wouldn't be long before he would be ready to assist Kamio in coming up with a candidate to take over when they left.
“Hey Kamio!”
He was pulled away from his thoughts by Sakurai's good-natured welcome. He waved back in response and jogged over, accepting the towel the other handed to him. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Sakurai gestured to the courts where the first years were finishing the net setup. “We're almost ready.”
“Yeah.” Kamio looked over and as always, felt a surge of pride swell over him whenever he saw the first years working hard, with none of the fear and apprehension that had plagued he and the others back when they had been that age. The new players would never have to feel the dread of having to attend a practice with the knowledge that they'd most likely be unable to escape without at least some bruising that had nothing to do with tennis. They wouldn't feel the pain of having those who were supposed to be their sempai's, turn on them; hurting them, taunting and abusing them for a few mindless laughs.
Kamio knew Sakurai and the other Regulars felt just as strongly about making sure the first years had an easier introduction to tennis then they had, and it warmed his heart to see one of the younger boys run up to Tetsu Ishida, handing him a water bottle with a chirp and a grin. Ishida made sure to thank the boy, - Tsuda Hiroki, Kamio noted automatically - even going so far as to ruffle the boy's hair with genuine affection.
It was such an astounding difference from the absolute horror it had been just two short years before.
“Here's this weeks schedule for the first years,” Kamio said, pulling a paper out of his backpack. “Can you get them started on their swings?”
Sakurai saluted him cheerfully and headed off, clapping his hands together loudly and shouting for all first years to follow him, and Kamio laughed at the sight of all the tiny firsties clad in identical workout tees and shorts, straggling behind his Fukou-buchou like a swarm of baby ducklings. Chuckling under his breath, Kamio pulled out a second paper and waved for the Regulars to join him.
“Regs will be doing practice singles matches this morning - two out of three games - and drill work this afternoon. Treat the matches like you would real competition bouts.” He pointed to 'A' court. “Mori and Uchimura. Ishida, you and Sakurai are on 'B' when he gets back here. Shinji?”
Shinji Ibu looked up from where he was sprawled out in a V-stretch, arms wrapped around his racquet behind his back as he twisted back and forth, muttering something about daisies sprouting up through the cracks in the practice courts. “Hmm?”
“I need to go check in with Catherine-sensei,” Kamio said, waving a hand at the small office attached to the clubhouse. “Can you work with Norihisa today?”
Norihisa Yuki was their newest Regular, and the only second year. Despite the fact that everyone was determined to be better sempai's to their kouhai's, it was common knowledge that the Regulars were made up of the same members who had instigated the tennis revolution and had gone to the Nationals, and there was no small degree of nervousness to the 'newbies' who wanted to play but were hesitant to intrude on what seemed to be a sacred institution. Norihisa was a good, solid player but a month after making Regulars, he still had a habit of hiding at the fringe of the group, afraid to voice his opinions on pretty much anything. Even now, he was currently hiding behind Ishida, nervously plucking away at his racquet strings.
“Of course I can work with him, I'm not incompetent you know. His ball control needs work and I'm a perfectly good choice to help him with that--”
“Thanks Shinji,” Kamio said gratefully, leaning to the right and smiling at Norihisa. “Okay?”
The second year jumped as he was addressed. “Yes, Buchou,” He fairly shouted, his cheeks flaring a bright red as everyone chuckled lightly. He turned to Shinji and bowed deeply. “Thank you for agreeing to work with me, Shinji-san.”
“Why wouldn't I agree to work with you? Am I such a disagreeable person that it's easy to believe I would refuse to help a teammate with something I happen to be good at? And I thought we stopped using honorifics last year, when did we start using them again?”
Kamio grinned as Norihisa protested weakly that it wasn't right for him to address him as 'Shinji'. Never one for formalities, the team had given up on all suffixes not long after Nationals. Heck, they were more a family then an actual team anyway, and Norihisa would blend in once he realized that and lost his perpetual shyness. “'C' court, you two.”
“Yes, yes, Kamio sure seems a lot more bossy now that he's in charge. I wonder if Tachibana had any idea this would happen when he made Kamio Fukou-buchou last year...”
The mutterings trailed off as Shinji stalked towards 'C' court, Norihisa scuttling about behind him like an eager puppy, racquet in hand. Satisfied that everyone was going to work right away, Kamio headed for the small office. He knocked on the door, and walked in.
Catherine Lupsor-sensei, the foreign English teacher at Fudoumine, looked up with a smile. “Hello Kamio. How are you today?”
“I'm fine, thank you,” Kamio returned easily. Catherine-sensei greeted him the same way every time she saw him. “Just checking in.”
“Hmm...ah! The headmaster gave me these papers - permission for the team to miss class this Saturday for your exhibition match.” The teacher handed a stack of forms to him. “Make sure you give them to me by tomorrow morning, okay?”
“I will give them to you before practice tomorrow,” Kamio promised, flicking through them idly. Everyone had showed up today for practice, so it would only take a few minutes to hand them out.
Catherine-sensei - she utterly refused to be called Lupsor-sensei - smiled brightly at him. “Is everyone here today?”
“Yes,” Kamio said. He bowed low to her. “Thank you for your help.”
“Anytime, Kamio.” Catherine smiled and turned back to her laptop. English pop music, tinny-sounding from the tiny speakers she'd attached to the computer, drifted up and Kamio headed back out to practice, absently humming the catchy tune.
They were really lucky to have Catherine-sensei's help. After the whole fiasco when Tachibana had decked the teacher and had started a whole separate team, they still had mountains of troubles to overcome, the most pressing of which was finding a teacher willing to oversee their club.
School rules and regulations forbade any club from practicing on school grounds if there wasn't a teacher in the vicinity, citing theft and injury liabilities as the reason. When they'd asked around, all of the teachers had turned them down. Whether it was because they were busy, or because they thought they would be in danger of being attacked (according to the rumors flying fast and furious around the school), Kamio wasn't sure. Personally, he thought that Akimoto-sensei, the one who had let the tennis club get so out of control in the first place - and the one Tachibana had knocked flat on his ass - had warned all the other teachers to stay away from them or they'd get fired or something. It was a fair assumption, especially since he was one of the oldest teachers at the school, and one with a fair amount of influence with the Headmaster.
Then about a week after the whole debacle, still without a supervising teacher and being forced to hold makeshift practices on the street courts near the school, they'd noticed a foreign lady watching their club, a look of awe on her face. Tachibana had recognized her as the new English teacher that had been hired not a month before, and had instantly made a beeline towards her.
It had been a brilliant move. As a foreigner teaching at their school, she'd been hired by a third party and as such, had no loyalty or devotion to the school she was at, and was therefore probably the only teacher currently not under the influence of Akimoto-sensei.
The only problem in the beginning - for Kamio, at least - was the language barrier. Catherine-sensei didn't speak much Japanese, outside of a few generic phrases, greetings, numbers and random nouns. Thankfully, both Tachibana and his sister spoke near-fluent English, the end result of a father who worked for an ex-patriot company and knew the value in bringing his children up to be bilingual. He was able to converse freely with her, with An translating for poor Kamio who just watched them go back and forth like a verbal tennis match.
It had been shocking to see just how angry Catherine-sensei had gotten on their behalf. It was rare for a teacher to side with a student over a fellow educator, but Kamio just chalked it up to her being a Canadian, with different ways of seeing things. She had listened to them without judging them, and had agreed to help them if she was able; after all, the Headmaster might have refused to let her associate with the 'rebels' of the school.
But as it turned out, the Headmaster was very pleased with Catherine's classes - as were the parents - and in an effort to keep her happy enough to re-sign for the following year, he'd ended up giving her permission to be the official liaison between the newly formed tennis club and the school's administrative system.
“I warn you though,” Catherine-sensei had told them with a smile after getting the official go-ahead. “The only thing I know about tennis is that you hold a racquet by one end, and hit the ball with the other. And someone is also talking about 'love' all the time. As a coach, manager, referee, umpire or whatever you have in this sport, I'm utterly useless. But I can be a presence here for you for liability purposes, and help with the paperwork. But--” and her eyes had darkened, a very serious expression slipping over the easy-going smile she'd been wearing. “--you'd better not give me a reason to regret this. Be honest with me. Tell me when accidents or incidents I need to know about happen. I do not want to hear about anything happening from the teachers in the staff room. Don't lie to me, and don't hide things from me. By agreeing to do this, I now have a responsibility for your team. Please don't make me regret doing this.”
Tachibana had solemnly promised he would never give her a reason to regret helping them, and after getting the translation, Kamio had eagerly added his own guarantee and then BOOM - they had a new 'coach'.
An added bonus was the fact that by the end of their second year school term, due to chatting with Catherine-sensei on an almost daily basis, everyone's English mark had gone up a full letter grade with the exception of the Tachibana siblings who'd always gotten straight A's in that class anyway.
Kamio had come to enjoy the chances he had to talk to Catherine-sensei. Ten minutes of conversing with her meant he didn't need to feel guilty about shaving ten minutes off his actual English studying at night, in order to apply the extra time to a subject that needed it more. Like math, for instance. Kamio hated math. It was pure evil in numerical format.
Sakurai was still monitoring the first years, racquet in one hand, his notebook in the other, so Kamio headed over to watch Mori play his doubles partner. As he got closer to the courts, he saw that An had joined them, sitting high in the referee's chair, calling each shot.
“You're late, An-chan!” he shouted up at her, and she stuck her tongue out at him, even as Uchimura managed to sneak a shot past Mori. She called it anyway, slurring the 'lob-firty' past her outstretched tongue.
As a girl, she was of course, unable to play on the team, but the Fudoumine's girls club was practically non-existent. She'd originally come to Fudoumine to be with her brother anyway, and she was content to wait until high school to play on a team. In the meantime, she would gain valuable experience by helping the boys, watching their moves, and learning from them - sometimes even practicing with them when they were short on people. The whole team was used to her presence, and the first years had learned very quickly to respect An or they would be dealing with six very protective Regulars.
She was their unofficial 'manager', Catherine-sensei's helper and translator, and was never far from her video camera. She claimed it was because her brother wanted to see their progress, even if he was technically no longer their captain, but Sakurai had teased her and said she just wanted to make home videos of sweaty, muscular tennis players racing around the court and grunting.
Kamio chuckled at the memory. It took more then that to embarrass An-chan, having grown up with a brother who didn't hesitate in teasing his sibling, and she'd promptly turned the camera on Sakurai, claiming he'd hit the nail on the head, and would he pretty please take off his shirt for her video?
The match ended, Uchimura having squeaked out a win over Mori who was rolling his eyes at his shorter partner's enthusiastic shouts of victory. An jumped down from the referee's chair, and Uchimura took her spot as Ishida headed on the court. Mori would rally with him until Sakurai got there.
“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” she teased as she joined him. He knew she was fully aware of his views on mornings. “How're the girls?”
She was also the only one apart from her brother and Shinji, who knew the details of his home life, and she utterly adored Sachiko and Michiko. Kamio crossed his arms, squinting at Ishida who had just missed an easy lob.
“They're fine,” he said absently, frowning at the mistake. Was Ishida injured?
“That's good,” An said, nodding. “Did you finish your history assignment for Satoshi-sensei?”
“Uh-huh.” He didn't look injured - he was walking normally, swinging his arms loosely.
“Math done?”
“Yup.” Ishida was probably just tired or something, and his theory seemed valid when he saw Ishida let loose with a jaw-popping yawn that made Mori laugh. Kamio could appreciate being tired all too well, stifling a yawn of his own that reminded him of his own post-midnight crash.
“Kiss Momoshiro-sempai yet?”
“Uh-huh-wait, what?” Kamio blinked and turned to look at her incredulously. “What the heck was that? Why would I kiss Momoshiro?”
An giggled and patted him on the shoulder. “I was just checking to see if you really were awake,” she said. “Girls don't like being ignored. You should know that better than anyone.”
Oh yes, he knew how that went. All he had to was pretend not to hear Sachiko complaining about, well, anything, and the next thing he knew, one or more of her plush animals would be flung at him in an effort to make him 'stop dreaming'.
But still, there were limits. “Momoshiro?”
“Sorry, sorry!” Ann held up her hands in surrender. She walked over to the bench and rummaged through her backpack for a second before turning around and presenting him with a wrapped package. “Here, a peace offering.” She smiled. “Onii-chan made hamburgers this morning.” She frowned lightly at him. “Don't even think about saying no - I know you didn't eat breakfast this morning.”
Kamio stared at the wrapped lunch and sighed internally before mustering up a smile and accepting it with thanks. She had to give it to him now - neither of them had the same lunch schedule this year, and the classes they did have together were the last two periods of the day.
Last year, both An and her brother had noticed Kamio never brought his own lunch to school, and would ravenously wolf down whatever bread the cafeteria lady had left. Endless questioning - and one memorable day when An had tried to play spy detective and had followed him home - eventually wound up with Kamio spilling his guts to them and immediately swearing them to absolute secrecy. Tachibana had not been happy that his Vice-Captain was in effect, slowly starving himself, and when he made lunch for himself and his sister, he would periodically slip an extra bento into An's bag to give to Kamio, which she would then present to him at morning practice.
Kamio knew that if he hadn't protested as much as he had, An would be bringing him lunch every day. But Kamio was nobody's charity case, and so the Tachibana siblings resigned themselves to only two or three times a week. They wouldn't force the issue, as long as Kamio accepted the offering gracefully when it was made available.
“What are those?” She asked, pointing at the forms. Kamio blinked.
“Oh yeah.” Picking them up, he handed her one - she was the 'manager' and as far as he was concerned, she was entitled to cut class with the rest of them for all the work she did - and she flicked her eyes over it with interest.
“I'm kinda curious how this exhibition match is going to go,” she commented. “Kirihara-san is the only one left from his original team, right?”
“Yeah,” Kamio nodded. His eyes darted over to 'C' court where Shinji was mumbling something to Norihisa, who nodded his head up and down like a Jack-in-the-Box. Shinji then broke off his mutters and glared mildly at the second year Regular who immediately changed his grip. Shinji gave a satisfied nod, and then threw the ball into the air for a lightning fast Kick Serve that Kamio was surprised to see Norihisa return, with no small amount of power behind it. “All the other Rikkai Regulars last year were third year.”
“Wow, that's gotta suck, being all alone like that,” An said thoughtfully. “You're all really lucky - the only person you're missing is my brother, and even so, you've still got me.” She winked at him. “One Tachibana sibling is just as good as another, right?”
“Yeah, right,” Kamio laughed. It was true - they were lucky. He got to have one more year with his friends before they were possibly split up for different high schools. He couldn't imagine having to be Captain this year with a brand new team. “I wonder how Kirihara's handling it?”
“We'll see this Saturday, won't we?”
Kamio smoothed his hand down over the permission forms. Yes, they would. Kamio was looking forward to it.
Sakurai finally joined Ishida on the court, and Mori moved offside to watch. Kamio handed the forms to An. “Give these out when they finish, will you? I'm gonna go watch the first years for a bit.”
“Gotta fill those books,” she teased, taking the papers and waving him off.
Kamio grinned and jogged over to the far side of the court area where the first years were in the middle of one hundred back hand strokes. He watched with pride as they swung hard, brows furrowed in concentration, counting off in crisp, clear voices, voices and swings that both got stronger when they saw their Buchou watching them.
By Kami, how he loved this. It was times like this that he seemed to forget how tired he was by the end of the week, or how hard it sometimes was to balance both his Captain duties, schoolwork and his responsibilities to his sisters.
It was moments like these that made everything worth it.
o0o...o0o...o0o
End Chapter 2
End Notes:
As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. I've gone over this several times and I think I've caught all the glaring errors, but I just know when I read it again after posting, something is going to jump out at me. *sigh*
Anyway, again, the permission forms are something that's required in Canada and China, so I assumed something similar had to be done in Japan. We don't see it too much, because Ryuuzaki-sensei handles it for Seigaku, but Fudoumine doesn't have a Ryuuzaki-sensei. They have a Kamio-Buchou, an An-chan and a Catherine-sensei who do the best they can under very trying circumstances. :)
More on the idiocy from yesterday to come tomorrow once I put my jaw back on its hinges and get coherent enough to rant properly.
Yesterday's work:
A: What do you collect?
B: I collect ________! I think they're _________ because _____________.
A: I think that's really _________.
B: What do you like to collect?
A: I collect _____________. It's __________________.
B: Wow! I think it's ________________!
Very simple and a good way to get them talking. I did some examples (I like to collect dirty, old sneakers so I can wave them at people and make them run away from the smell [they thought it was hilarious]) and then paired them off to take a minute to come up with their own.
Shawn came up to me and asked how to say Atomic bombs - apparently he'd seen a science show the night before about them and he wanted to collect the ones that didn't work. No, I really don't know.
Anyway. Fast forward to the part where I have them stand up to play out their conversations. Shawn and Jemmy come up to the board and all is well until Shawn proudly looks at me and shouts out:
Shawn: "I collect Atomic BOOBS!"
Instant hysterical laughter from me as I instantly form a mental image of ladies with chests of mass destruction.
And here is chapter 2 of the vaunted Kamio fic.
Title: Life Goes On - 2/?
Author: Stormy1x2 (traveling_storm)
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Word count for chapter 2(fic portion): 4069
Pairings: Non-specific (for now)
Summary: A new year has begun for Fudoumine. Kamio-Buchou tries to run his team, take care of his family, and make something of himself, all without going completely insane. Notes and ficcage under the cut.
Notes: There is a female OC here but she is older than the boys, NOT a love interest, and has only a very minor - and very necessary role to play, as you will read. There are also mentions of OC's as new first year members - and a new regular (to fill the gap left by the graduation of Tachibana). I think you'll be pleased with how they are portrayed.
Also, it's not made clear whether or not teams have exhibition matches, but we always did for basketball. I can't see the tennis team going the whole year with only the Kantou tournament and the Nationals to look forward too - it's too boring. Hence, they schedule exhibition matches with other schools throughout the year. My two cents. ^^
I explained about certain Japanese words in chapter 1. Here, you'll see I've used the words 'sempai' and 'kouhai' and again, it's because there's no English equivalent that sounds ...non-dorky. I mean, c'mon - I don't run around calling people older than me 'upper-classmen' and those younger than me 'under-classmen'. It sounds stupid, and so I've left 'sempai' and 'kouhai' alone.
Everyone speaks Japanese in this fic. When they speak to the OC, it's in English and it's represented by italics.
Special thank you's to everyone who's reviewed so far. I hope you continue to enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. :)
o0o...o0o...o0o
Every day when Kamio reached the grounds of Fudoumine, he took a moment to thank Kami that Sakurai, his Vice-Captain, was in fact the reliable and punctual person that he was. Even if Kamio used the speed he'd hit the day Momoshiro had stolen his bike - a speed born out of sheer determination and desperation, and not one he was able to reproduce on demand (yet) - it still took him anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes to get there from the time he left his siblings on Minagawa-san's doorstep.
Sakurai however, lived about a ten minute walk from the school and as such, had absolutely no problem with getting there first to open the clubhouse, unlock the court gates, and mobilize the first-years into setting up the nets.
By the time Kamio arrived, Sakurai always had everything ready to go - something Kamio sometimes fumed at since he'd never been able to accomplish such things for Tachibana-Buchou on a regular basis - which meant Kamio could immediately begin the practices. Since he counted his run to school as the equivalent of thirty laps around the grounds, he never felt guilty about not joining the Regulars in their morning run. Instead, he usually directed Sakurai to oversee the first years, leaving the Regulars to their own warm up devices. After a year of doing the same morning routine, it wasn't like any of them really needed supervision for the basics, and it gave him time to go over his books Sakurai had brought out from the clubhouse.
Yes, books. Kamio had books. Four of them, to be precise; big thick ones filled with stats, strengths, weaknesses, behaviours and noted patterns. The first two had been filled by Tachibana during Kamio's first year. Page after page of meticulously neat handwriting that put Kamio's to shame, detailing that momentous first year that had been their -and Fudoumine's specifically - true beginning.
The last two had been filled by Kamio himself, full of beginner mistakes and cross-outs; a recording of the time he'd first been told to note down what he saw, his impressions, and how he thought he could help his fellow members improve. During his second year, after Tachibana had appointed him as the official Vice-Captain (and to this day, Kamio still couldn't figure out just why he'd been chosen), the third year Regular had taken Kamio under his wing and trained him for the job he would eventually overtake.
Kamio would never dream of claiming to be as good as his captain had been, but he was still rather proud of his books, particularly the newest one that had fewer cross-outs and globs of white out, and more analytical observations. Tachibana had been a good teacher, patiently pointing out the most minuscule of details that helped make up the whole picture of a player. He had taught him to break down the components of a move to see how they worked, and put them back together in his head with a complete understanding of the shot he'd witnessed. He had drilled Kamio on muscle groups and first aid and how to detect early warning signs of injury, in addition to pushing Kamio into developing his own style of tennis that was on par with any Kantou player.
Kamio had done his best to absorb everything he was told, and then midway through his second year, Tachibana had made him take over the training and note-recording for the few first years that had timidly signed up.
Kamio ran his fingers along the book spines stacked on the bench. Starting in the next couple of months, he was going to have to start the training for whomsoever would be taking over next year. Sakurai had gone through the same 'captain training' that Kamio had, albeit a bit more boot-camp style, as no one had known who was going to take Kamio's job until just after the Nationals that past summer. In effect, he was still learning, working with the first years as Kamio had, but it wouldn't be long before he would be ready to assist Kamio in coming up with a candidate to take over when they left.
“Hey Kamio!”
He was pulled away from his thoughts by Sakurai's good-natured welcome. He waved back in response and jogged over, accepting the towel the other handed to him. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Sakurai gestured to the courts where the first years were finishing the net setup. “We're almost ready.”
“Yeah.” Kamio looked over and as always, felt a surge of pride swell over him whenever he saw the first years working hard, with none of the fear and apprehension that had plagued he and the others back when they had been that age. The new players would never have to feel the dread of having to attend a practice with the knowledge that they'd most likely be unable to escape without at least some bruising that had nothing to do with tennis. They wouldn't feel the pain of having those who were supposed to be their sempai's, turn on them; hurting them, taunting and abusing them for a few mindless laughs.
Kamio knew Sakurai and the other Regulars felt just as strongly about making sure the first years had an easier introduction to tennis then they had, and it warmed his heart to see one of the younger boys run up to Tetsu Ishida, handing him a water bottle with a chirp and a grin. Ishida made sure to thank the boy, - Tsuda Hiroki, Kamio noted automatically - even going so far as to ruffle the boy's hair with genuine affection.
It was such an astounding difference from the absolute horror it had been just two short years before.
“Here's this weeks schedule for the first years,” Kamio said, pulling a paper out of his backpack. “Can you get them started on their swings?”
Sakurai saluted him cheerfully and headed off, clapping his hands together loudly and shouting for all first years to follow him, and Kamio laughed at the sight of all the tiny firsties clad in identical workout tees and shorts, straggling behind his Fukou-buchou like a swarm of baby ducklings. Chuckling under his breath, Kamio pulled out a second paper and waved for the Regulars to join him.
“Regs will be doing practice singles matches this morning - two out of three games - and drill work this afternoon. Treat the matches like you would real competition bouts.” He pointed to 'A' court. “Mori and Uchimura. Ishida, you and Sakurai are on 'B' when he gets back here. Shinji?”
Shinji Ibu looked up from where he was sprawled out in a V-stretch, arms wrapped around his racquet behind his back as he twisted back and forth, muttering something about daisies sprouting up through the cracks in the practice courts. “Hmm?”
“I need to go check in with Catherine-sensei,” Kamio said, waving a hand at the small office attached to the clubhouse. “Can you work with Norihisa today?”
Norihisa Yuki was their newest Regular, and the only second year. Despite the fact that everyone was determined to be better sempai's to their kouhai's, it was common knowledge that the Regulars were made up of the same members who had instigated the tennis revolution and had gone to the Nationals, and there was no small degree of nervousness to the 'newbies' who wanted to play but were hesitant to intrude on what seemed to be a sacred institution. Norihisa was a good, solid player but a month after making Regulars, he still had a habit of hiding at the fringe of the group, afraid to voice his opinions on pretty much anything. Even now, he was currently hiding behind Ishida, nervously plucking away at his racquet strings.
“Of course I can work with him, I'm not incompetent you know. His ball control needs work and I'm a perfectly good choice to help him with that--”
“Thanks Shinji,” Kamio said gratefully, leaning to the right and smiling at Norihisa. “Okay?”
The second year jumped as he was addressed. “Yes, Buchou,” He fairly shouted, his cheeks flaring a bright red as everyone chuckled lightly. He turned to Shinji and bowed deeply. “Thank you for agreeing to work with me, Shinji-san.”
“Why wouldn't I agree to work with you? Am I such a disagreeable person that it's easy to believe I would refuse to help a teammate with something I happen to be good at? And I thought we stopped using honorifics last year, when did we start using them again?”
Kamio grinned as Norihisa protested weakly that it wasn't right for him to address him as 'Shinji'. Never one for formalities, the team had given up on all suffixes not long after Nationals. Heck, they were more a family then an actual team anyway, and Norihisa would blend in once he realized that and lost his perpetual shyness. “'C' court, you two.”
“Yes, yes, Kamio sure seems a lot more bossy now that he's in charge. I wonder if Tachibana had any idea this would happen when he made Kamio Fukou-buchou last year...”
The mutterings trailed off as Shinji stalked towards 'C' court, Norihisa scuttling about behind him like an eager puppy, racquet in hand. Satisfied that everyone was going to work right away, Kamio headed for the small office. He knocked on the door, and walked in.
Catherine Lupsor-sensei, the foreign English teacher at Fudoumine, looked up with a smile. “Hello Kamio. How are you today?”
“I'm fine, thank you,” Kamio returned easily. Catherine-sensei greeted him the same way every time she saw him. “Just checking in.”
“Hmm...ah! The headmaster gave me these papers - permission for the team to miss class this Saturday for your exhibition match.” The teacher handed a stack of forms to him. “Make sure you give them to me by tomorrow morning, okay?”
“I will give them to you before practice tomorrow,” Kamio promised, flicking through them idly. Everyone had showed up today for practice, so it would only take a few minutes to hand them out.
Catherine-sensei - she utterly refused to be called Lupsor-sensei - smiled brightly at him. “Is everyone here today?”
“Yes,” Kamio said. He bowed low to her. “Thank you for your help.”
“Anytime, Kamio.” Catherine smiled and turned back to her laptop. English pop music, tinny-sounding from the tiny speakers she'd attached to the computer, drifted up and Kamio headed back out to practice, absently humming the catchy tune.
They were really lucky to have Catherine-sensei's help. After the whole fiasco when Tachibana had decked the teacher and had started a whole separate team, they still had mountains of troubles to overcome, the most pressing of which was finding a teacher willing to oversee their club.
School rules and regulations forbade any club from practicing on school grounds if there wasn't a teacher in the vicinity, citing theft and injury liabilities as the reason. When they'd asked around, all of the teachers had turned them down. Whether it was because they were busy, or because they thought they would be in danger of being attacked (according to the rumors flying fast and furious around the school), Kamio wasn't sure. Personally, he thought that Akimoto-sensei, the one who had let the tennis club get so out of control in the first place - and the one Tachibana had knocked flat on his ass - had warned all the other teachers to stay away from them or they'd get fired or something. It was a fair assumption, especially since he was one of the oldest teachers at the school, and one with a fair amount of influence with the Headmaster.
Then about a week after the whole debacle, still without a supervising teacher and being forced to hold makeshift practices on the street courts near the school, they'd noticed a foreign lady watching their club, a look of awe on her face. Tachibana had recognized her as the new English teacher that had been hired not a month before, and had instantly made a beeline towards her.
It had been a brilliant move. As a foreigner teaching at their school, she'd been hired by a third party and as such, had no loyalty or devotion to the school she was at, and was therefore probably the only teacher currently not under the influence of Akimoto-sensei.
The only problem in the beginning - for Kamio, at least - was the language barrier. Catherine-sensei didn't speak much Japanese, outside of a few generic phrases, greetings, numbers and random nouns. Thankfully, both Tachibana and his sister spoke near-fluent English, the end result of a father who worked for an ex-patriot company and knew the value in bringing his children up to be bilingual. He was able to converse freely with her, with An translating for poor Kamio who just watched them go back and forth like a verbal tennis match.
It had been shocking to see just how angry Catherine-sensei had gotten on their behalf. It was rare for a teacher to side with a student over a fellow educator, but Kamio just chalked it up to her being a Canadian, with different ways of seeing things. She had listened to them without judging them, and had agreed to help them if she was able; after all, the Headmaster might have refused to let her associate with the 'rebels' of the school.
But as it turned out, the Headmaster was very pleased with Catherine's classes - as were the parents - and in an effort to keep her happy enough to re-sign for the following year, he'd ended up giving her permission to be the official liaison between the newly formed tennis club and the school's administrative system.
“I warn you though,” Catherine-sensei had told them with a smile after getting the official go-ahead. “The only thing I know about tennis is that you hold a racquet by one end, and hit the ball with the other. And someone is also talking about 'love' all the time. As a coach, manager, referee, umpire or whatever you have in this sport, I'm utterly useless. But I can be a presence here for you for liability purposes, and help with the paperwork. But--” and her eyes had darkened, a very serious expression slipping over the easy-going smile she'd been wearing. “--you'd better not give me a reason to regret this. Be honest with me. Tell me when accidents or incidents I need to know about happen. I do not want to hear about anything happening from the teachers in the staff room. Don't lie to me, and don't hide things from me. By agreeing to do this, I now have a responsibility for your team. Please don't make me regret doing this.”
Tachibana had solemnly promised he would never give her a reason to regret helping them, and after getting the translation, Kamio had eagerly added his own guarantee and then BOOM - they had a new 'coach'.
An added bonus was the fact that by the end of their second year school term, due to chatting with Catherine-sensei on an almost daily basis, everyone's English mark had gone up a full letter grade with the exception of the Tachibana siblings who'd always gotten straight A's in that class anyway.
Kamio had come to enjoy the chances he had to talk to Catherine-sensei. Ten minutes of conversing with her meant he didn't need to feel guilty about shaving ten minutes off his actual English studying at night, in order to apply the extra time to a subject that needed it more. Like math, for instance. Kamio hated math. It was pure evil in numerical format.
Sakurai was still monitoring the first years, racquet in one hand, his notebook in the other, so Kamio headed over to watch Mori play his doubles partner. As he got closer to the courts, he saw that An had joined them, sitting high in the referee's chair, calling each shot.
“You're late, An-chan!” he shouted up at her, and she stuck her tongue out at him, even as Uchimura managed to sneak a shot past Mori. She called it anyway, slurring the 'lob-firty' past her outstretched tongue.
As a girl, she was of course, unable to play on the team, but the Fudoumine's girls club was practically non-existent. She'd originally come to Fudoumine to be with her brother anyway, and she was content to wait until high school to play on a team. In the meantime, she would gain valuable experience by helping the boys, watching their moves, and learning from them - sometimes even practicing with them when they were short on people. The whole team was used to her presence, and the first years had learned very quickly to respect An or they would be dealing with six very protective Regulars.
She was their unofficial 'manager', Catherine-sensei's helper and translator, and was never far from her video camera. She claimed it was because her brother wanted to see their progress, even if he was technically no longer their captain, but Sakurai had teased her and said she just wanted to make home videos of sweaty, muscular tennis players racing around the court and grunting.
Kamio chuckled at the memory. It took more then that to embarrass An-chan, having grown up with a brother who didn't hesitate in teasing his sibling, and she'd promptly turned the camera on Sakurai, claiming he'd hit the nail on the head, and would he pretty please take off his shirt for her video?
The match ended, Uchimura having squeaked out a win over Mori who was rolling his eyes at his shorter partner's enthusiastic shouts of victory. An jumped down from the referee's chair, and Uchimura took her spot as Ishida headed on the court. Mori would rally with him until Sakurai got there.
“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” she teased as she joined him. He knew she was fully aware of his views on mornings. “How're the girls?”
She was also the only one apart from her brother and Shinji, who knew the details of his home life, and she utterly adored Sachiko and Michiko. Kamio crossed his arms, squinting at Ishida who had just missed an easy lob.
“They're fine,” he said absently, frowning at the mistake. Was Ishida injured?
“That's good,” An said, nodding. “Did you finish your history assignment for Satoshi-sensei?”
“Uh-huh.” He didn't look injured - he was walking normally, swinging his arms loosely.
“Math done?”
“Yup.” Ishida was probably just tired or something, and his theory seemed valid when he saw Ishida let loose with a jaw-popping yawn that made Mori laugh. Kamio could appreciate being tired all too well, stifling a yawn of his own that reminded him of his own post-midnight crash.
“Kiss Momoshiro-sempai yet?”
“Uh-huh-wait, what?” Kamio blinked and turned to look at her incredulously. “What the heck was that? Why would I kiss Momoshiro?”
An giggled and patted him on the shoulder. “I was just checking to see if you really were awake,” she said. “Girls don't like being ignored. You should know that better than anyone.”
Oh yes, he knew how that went. All he had to was pretend not to hear Sachiko complaining about, well, anything, and the next thing he knew, one or more of her plush animals would be flung at him in an effort to make him 'stop dreaming'.
But still, there were limits. “Momoshiro?”
“Sorry, sorry!” Ann held up her hands in surrender. She walked over to the bench and rummaged through her backpack for a second before turning around and presenting him with a wrapped package. “Here, a peace offering.” She smiled. “Onii-chan made hamburgers this morning.” She frowned lightly at him. “Don't even think about saying no - I know you didn't eat breakfast this morning.”
Kamio stared at the wrapped lunch and sighed internally before mustering up a smile and accepting it with thanks. She had to give it to him now - neither of them had the same lunch schedule this year, and the classes they did have together were the last two periods of the day.
Last year, both An and her brother had noticed Kamio never brought his own lunch to school, and would ravenously wolf down whatever bread the cafeteria lady had left. Endless questioning - and one memorable day when An had tried to play spy detective and had followed him home - eventually wound up with Kamio spilling his guts to them and immediately swearing them to absolute secrecy. Tachibana had not been happy that his Vice-Captain was in effect, slowly starving himself, and when he made lunch for himself and his sister, he would periodically slip an extra bento into An's bag to give to Kamio, which she would then present to him at morning practice.
Kamio knew that if he hadn't protested as much as he had, An would be bringing him lunch every day. But Kamio was nobody's charity case, and so the Tachibana siblings resigned themselves to only two or three times a week. They wouldn't force the issue, as long as Kamio accepted the offering gracefully when it was made available.
“What are those?” She asked, pointing at the forms. Kamio blinked.
“Oh yeah.” Picking them up, he handed her one - she was the 'manager' and as far as he was concerned, she was entitled to cut class with the rest of them for all the work she did - and she flicked her eyes over it with interest.
“I'm kinda curious how this exhibition match is going to go,” she commented. “Kirihara-san is the only one left from his original team, right?”
“Yeah,” Kamio nodded. His eyes darted over to 'C' court where Shinji was mumbling something to Norihisa, who nodded his head up and down like a Jack-in-the-Box. Shinji then broke off his mutters and glared mildly at the second year Regular who immediately changed his grip. Shinji gave a satisfied nod, and then threw the ball into the air for a lightning fast Kick Serve that Kamio was surprised to see Norihisa return, with no small amount of power behind it. “All the other Rikkai Regulars last year were third year.”
“Wow, that's gotta suck, being all alone like that,” An said thoughtfully. “You're all really lucky - the only person you're missing is my brother, and even so, you've still got me.” She winked at him. “One Tachibana sibling is just as good as another, right?”
“Yeah, right,” Kamio laughed. It was true - they were lucky. He got to have one more year with his friends before they were possibly split up for different high schools. He couldn't imagine having to be Captain this year with a brand new team. “I wonder how Kirihara's handling it?”
“We'll see this Saturday, won't we?”
Kamio smoothed his hand down over the permission forms. Yes, they would. Kamio was looking forward to it.
Sakurai finally joined Ishida on the court, and Mori moved offside to watch. Kamio handed the forms to An. “Give these out when they finish, will you? I'm gonna go watch the first years for a bit.”
“Gotta fill those books,” she teased, taking the papers and waving him off.
Kamio grinned and jogged over to the far side of the court area where the first years were in the middle of one hundred back hand strokes. He watched with pride as they swung hard, brows furrowed in concentration, counting off in crisp, clear voices, voices and swings that both got stronger when they saw their Buchou watching them.
By Kami, how he loved this. It was times like this that he seemed to forget how tired he was by the end of the week, or how hard it sometimes was to balance both his Captain duties, schoolwork and his responsibilities to his sisters.
It was moments like these that made everything worth it.
o0o...o0o...o0o
End Chapter 2
End Notes:
As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. I've gone over this several times and I think I've caught all the glaring errors, but I just know when I read it again after posting, something is going to jump out at me. *sigh*
Anyway, again, the permission forms are something that's required in Canada and China, so I assumed something similar had to be done in Japan. We don't see it too much, because Ryuuzaki-sensei handles it for Seigaku, but Fudoumine doesn't have a Ryuuzaki-sensei. They have a Kamio-Buchou, an An-chan and a Catherine-sensei who do the best they can under very trying circumstances. :)
More on the idiocy from yesterday to come tomorrow once I put my jaw back on its hinges and get coherent enough to rant properly.