Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Hyoutei Rabbits ❯ 01 ( Chapter 1 )

The boy dashed across the court but was too late to return the volley.

 

“Crap!”

 

Almost instinctively, Ootori Choutarou scanned his surroundings for his captain. He found him far out of earshot and conversing with their coach. Although not sadistic or even unkind, he felt a little disappointed. He had observed on several occasions that when Atobe Keigo was within the audible range of a `crap' or `shit', he flinched. Not visible jerks, of course. He is, after all, The Atobe Keigo. Just a barely perceptible arching of an elegant brow or a split-second cessation of all movements. Actually, he felt rather sorry for his captain.

 

Unbeknownst to the young gentleman, another was assessing his captain- with rather less compassion.

 

Atobe, Oshitari Yuushi surmised, is a great leader. After a humiliating defeat by an unseeded school and another in the first round of the Kanto tournament, the morale of Hyoutei Gakuen's Tennis Club was amazingly robust. Apparently, a misguided sense of omnipotence is contagious. He hid a smirk with his towel, although he was certain no one could differentiate it from his usual genteel smile. His doubles partner, Mukahi Gakuto, spared him a glance. Except for Gakuto, undoubtedly- when he isn't self-absorbed to near implosion.

 

Atobe's drawl drew his attention back to its owner. The receiver of the instructions scurried to do as he was bidden, reeking of profound respect and, probably, admiration.

 

Oh yes, he's a good commander. Why, even Hiyoshi stopped banging his head against the lamppost and gave chase, when Atobe yelled, “After the bitch!”, in a moment of species-ial confusion.

 

The captain watched, with satisfaction, as the junior rushed off to remove the offending weights from his ankles. The junior wanted to do it right then and there, in front of Atobe. But he was rapidly dissuaded by vibes of displeasure radiating off his captain.

 

Atobe was used to being watched and admired, hence he did no react to the watchful eyes. Ore-sama is more than beautiful than a summer's day.

 

 

The young man has completed his four sets of lunges and squats. Beads of perspiration scattered the morning light; sounds of regulated breathing disturbed the park's peace. As he flexed his leg to begin hurdle stretches, a pant leg rode up to reveal a blue ankle weight. The blue fabric has a small tear, which appeared to be made by a very sharp object.