Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Magic of Tennis ❯ Gathering the Boys ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Author’s Notes: I’m very unfamiliar with the non-Seigaku teams and characterizations, Fudomine being the only other team I’ve looked into. Due to a request, I went ahead and added the entire team from Rikkaidai, making them and Hyoutei the largest groups after Seigaku. Rokkaku got the least, because I don’t really like most of their players enough to write them. Suggestions, corrections, and complaints about my characterizations are welcome. I don’t know if the shonen ai will be anything more than playful, but I’m going to start marking the pairings just in case. Minor pairings will likely change with each part, consisting of flirting and crushes. Suggestions for minor pairings are welcome, but the main pairings are non-negotiable. I’ll change the rating later on if any of the romance gets serious.

PoT Timeline: This story doesn’t fit, but if it did it would be after the Goodwill Tournament and before Nationals in the anime, with Tezuka, Yukimura, and Tachibana are all healed up and ready to play. Since I haven’t read the manga, all the character details and special moves will be based on the anime alone.

Main Pairings: OishixEiji, KamioxShinji, OshitarixGakuto, SanadaxYukimura

Minor Pairings (for this part): Inui-Kaidoh, Ryoma-Momo, Mizuki-Yuuta, Akazawa-Eiji, Fuji-Kawamura, Atobe-Tezuka, Jirou-Marui

Fanart: You can find coverpics for some of the pairings on my deviantart page, the pairings with pics so far are Tezuka-Fuji, Kamio-Shinji, Inui-Kaidoh, Mizuki-Yuuta, and Sanada-Yukimura (in the 'scraps' section):
http://arigatoumina.deviantart.com/

Music Videos: Fudomine fans are encouraged to check out my "Fudomine" amv, which mostly features Kamio and Shinji, with minor focus on Tachibana, Ishida, and the rest of the team.:
http://www.animemusicvideos.org/members/members_videoinfo.php?v=86304

Warnings: lots of dialogue, bad language (mainly Akutsu), possible humor
Author: Arigatomina
Email: arigatoumina (a) hotmail . com
Website: www . geocities . com / arigatomina

Magic of Tennis

Part 2: Gathering the Boys

There were many ways for a wizard to get what he wanted out of muggles, without resorting to illegal practices. Dumbledore was well versed in all of the methods, which was only natural considering his age and status in the wizarding world. With the Seigaku team, the ones he’d come to call the ‘Gryffindor players’ for their consistently brave and outgoing nature, a bit of weedling was necessary. He quickly learned that none of the students would willingly speak with him, except their captain, who coldly ordered him to stop harassing his players and to see their coach if he had business with the team. Being the adaptive, good-natured wizard that he was, Dumbledore took the treatment in stride.

Within the space of an hour he’d not only spoken with said coach – a middle-aged woman with graying red hair and a rather amusing way of bantering – but he’d gained her permission to borrow the team for what he promised would be a short month. In return, he would impart an enriching experience on her players. He never once stopped to wonder why she didn’t question him about his magic school, or the existence of magic itself. As a wizard used to dealing with gullible children, he took it as a matter of course that she believed every word he said. Had he known that she’d been…tipped off…by one of her players, he might have hesitated a while longer.

The first to arrive at the deserted street tennis court designated to be their departure point, was the informer himself. Inui Sadaharu, third year Seigaku regular, was naturally early and in the perfect position to survey the arrival of his teammates and rivals. He was tall and lanky, with wild black hair cut close to his head and dark eyes hidden behind rectangular glasses specially coated to reflect light in the creepiest way possible. He took up position behind a tree in the middle of a convenient bit of foliage that looked out over the large double court. He held his trusty notebook in one hand, a pen in the other, and a somewhat drunken gray owl in a cage that was hanging off his shoulder by an improvised rope.

Known inside Seigaku as the busybody stalker who knew everything there was to know about everyone, Inui had quite a reputation. He had an even bigger reputation among the underground wizarding groups that mired themselves in experimental black-market potions. He’d politely refused invitations to no fewer then three wizarding schools, two of which were not sanctioned by the Ministry of Magic and were considered dark covens at best. While he had considered visiting a school – just for the well of available data to be collected within such a closed society – he was far more interested in experimenting on his own. Since he had no affiliation with wizards, whether by schooling or blood, they really had no control over him at all. That was the way he preferred it. He didn’t think they’d have allowed him to experiment on his teammates if he were a registered wizarding student, and that was half the fun of making potions. Naturally, he’d been more than happy to inform their coach, Ryuzaki-sensei, of the reality behind the strange invitations all of the players had received.

A gurgling sound escaped from the swaying owl, and Inui glanced down, his glasses reflecting the streetlamps in a golden sweep. He hadn’t planned to keep it, but the poor thing wasn’t up to flying at the moment. She had delivered his letter just as he was about to taste-test his newest Inui juice – a thick bubbly brown liquid that had cooled into an unusual swirl of orange and blue. Since it was such an unprecedented interruption, he’d felt compelled to share his amazing mixture. The owl hadn’t been able to stand up straight since. He’d just have to hand her over to her keepers once he and the others reached Hogwarts. For now, he leaned over and set her cage on the grass, and resumed his watch of the courts. In the margin of his notebook, he quickly figured the most likely order in which his teammates would arrive.

The silence was broken by a somewhat petulant whine. “No one’s here yet! Why’d we have to get here so early, anyway? I just went to bed three hours ago…”

Kikumaru Eiji, a third-year regular with a penchant for being cute in everything he did, stepped around the building across the double courts. He was slender and lithe, of medium height, with rich red hair that somehow managed to naturally fall into little upward sweeps to either side of his head, strands framing his face and bringing out his cat-like dark blue eyes. He would have been too pretty if not for the little white bandage he constantly wore on his right cheek. His mouth was pulled into a pout as he stared over the tennis court.

Another much calmer voice answered the complaint. “We’re leaving at three-thirty, and Tezuka wanted us to be here before the other schools. I’m sure there’s a reason they wanted us to meet here before daylight.”

Also a third year, Seigaku’s vice captain, Oishi Shuichirou, was a bit taller than his doubles partner. He had his hair shaved so short that if not for the two thick strands of hair dipping into his eyes, he might have been wearing a black bathing cap. His eyes were warm and dark green, suiting his habitual role as ‘mother’ of the team. At the moment he was doing his best to placate Eiji by offering some sort of breakfast bar from the knapsack on his shoulder. They’d placed their bags beside the clubhouse and were standing on the edge of the court.

Inui nodded from his hiding spot in the bushes, his pen scritching over the notebook page. There had been a 68 percent chance that the ‘golden pair’ would be the first to arrive, and only a 4 percent chance that either Kikumaru or Oishi would come alone. He also noted that a strawberry breakfast bar had a 95.3 percent chance of calming a cranky Kikumaru in the morning, which was considerably higher than the results with any other fruit Oishi had tried in the past.

The owl pitched over and gurgled from below. Inui nodded in agreement, his teeth glinting in a wide grin. This was a good place to gather data from.

Eiji tossed his wrapper in a nearby trashbin and thanked Oishi for the snack, which he’d scarfed down as if he actually liked sweets in the morning. He’d never hurt Oishi’s feelings by admitting he’d rather have skipped breakfast if he couldn’t have eggs, and he did prefer the strawberry bars to those mango-raisin things his partner had tried to feed him the last time he’d been in too much of a hurry to eat breakfast. Those putrid things masquerading as sweets had been almost as horrid as a slopping dose of Inui juice.

Almost as if summoned by the thought, a devilish face glinted in the shadows across the court from him and Oishi. Eiji’s eyes caught on the reflection of ghoulish glasses and a toothy evil scientist grin swimming out of the blackness. He promptly shrieked and jumped onto Oishi’s back. His partner lurched forward and turned an interesting shade of pale blue as his oxygen was cut off.

"Urgh! Eiji...!"

“Kikumaru-senpai is energetic this morning,” a cheeky voice commented from behind them.

Echizen Ryoma, the only first year to make regular player in recent Seigaku history, strolled onto the court. His thick black hair stuck mussily out from under his white tennis cap, dark greenish highlights sparking on the tips. He was quite short, so he tilted his head to the side to look up at the startled pair, wide golden eyes glinting above a sly smirk.

Inui, who considered his spying position thoroughly compromised, closed his notebook and picked up the rope of the cage. He left his bags in the bushes to be retrieved later, and crossed to where four of his teammates were now congregated. Eiji slowly climbed off Oishi, just as a tall figure followed in Ryoma’s wake. Inui stopped where he was and jotted a few quick notes.

There had been a 50 percent chance that Echizen would be the last to show, quite late, and a 50 percent chance that he would be one of the first. But the odds of him arriving with Momoshiro had been in the lower twenties – a figure that he now raised to a healthy 35 percent.

Momoshiro Takeshi, sixteen year-old Second Year and reserve player, was not a morning person. He walked with a hand over the lower half of his face to smother consecutive yawns, his unusual purple eyes blinking blearily. Tall and just muscular enough to look like a basketball player without being thick, Momo was sporting an early-morning bird’s nest in his thick flattop of black hair, strands sticking out frizzily here and there. Bulky bags were hanging over his shoulder in one crowded pile that probably weighed a good fifty pounds. He’d been forced to carry Ryoma’s along with his own since the younger player had a relatively fragile cargo to take care of. Leave it to him to bring his cat with him.

“Oi, Echizen,” Momo scowled, swinging the bags off his shoulder so they thumped audibly. “What’s the deal with leaving me behind when I’m carrying your stuff? Next time you can carry the crap and I’ll carry the cat. I should have known there was a reason you wanted me to meet you. That excuse about your dad not letting you walk in the dark was too lame.”

Ryoma gave a snarky smile and tugged down the bill of his cap to hide his eyes. “Mada mada dane.”

A soft rowl interrupted the boy’s pet phrase. Ryoma jumped and hurried to reassure the large Himalayan in the little carrier by the building. That simple meow was enough to change Ryoma from cocky little punk snarking off to his senpai into adorable fourteen year-old who loves his kitty cat. Momo snickered and earned himself a dirty glare over Ryoma’s shoulder.

In the meantime, Eiji had inspected the damage his glomping had done to Oishi, thankfully none, and was currently lecturing Inui on why a good spy keeps his lips shut so his teeth don’t look so scary in the dark. Since it was coming from Eiji, who had no experience keeping his mouth shut in class, let alone during a spying session, Inui didn’t pay him much mind. He merely jotted down the new data on Kikumaru – having scared the acrobatic player, the best course of action was to admit his wrong and listen to the resulting lecture without complaint. Two minutes later the redhead was showing his snacks to Momoshiro and had completely forgotten the incident.

“Vinegar bacon bits!” Momo exclaimed, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. “What kind of chips are flavored like vinegar bacon bits?”

“These kind, these,” Eiji grinned, waving said bag of vinegar-bacon-bit flavored chips in Ryoma’s equally squeamish face. “Want to try them, Ochibi? Nya! I bet you’d really like them…!”

“Iya da,” Ryoma protested, leaning away and protecting Karupin’s cage with his body. If his senpai even tried to bring those chips near his pretty cat, he’d bean him on the head with his tennis racket. He reached a hand over to his tennis bag and unzipped it, just in case.

Eiji laughed and pulled the offending bag of chips back to himself. “I saw them yesterday when Kaasan was shopping for groceries. I just had to get a bag for Fuji. If we’re going all the way to England, we’ll need snacks!”

A soft voice murmured from a few feet away, “Eto…I promised to pack lunches, so there wasn’t a need to bring your own snacks… My dad helped with the sushi, so it should be okay…”

Kawamura Takashi, third year regular player with a documented split personality any time he held a tennis racket, was standing near the building with heavy bags hanging carefully at his sides. Tall and similar in build to Momo, Kawamura had short brownish-orange hair and an infinitely shy expression on his non-racket-holding face. At the moment he looked slightly hurt at the idea that Eiji distrusted his lunches so much he had to bring his own food.

“Nya…!” Eiji said quickly, jumping up and whapping his free hand on Kawamura’s shoulder. “Your lunches are great! Really! And they’re free, ne?”

“Of course,” said Kawamura, with a shy smile. He was promptly given a semi-glomp, Eiji being careful not to disturb the bags since he didn’t know which one was carrying the free food.

Oishi, who’d been warily interrogating Inui as to the presence of the doped-up owl, came over to Kawamura and thanked him properly for supplying their lunches for the trip.

“Did you see the others on your way here?” asked Oishi. "I thought Tezuka and Fuji were going to help you carry the extra bags."

“They helped me here, but Fujiko-chan had to pick up his brother,” Kawamura said apologetically, as if it were his fault.

Their captain appeared from around the building, carrying his own bags over one shoulder, and a wide one in his left hand. "Fuji's sister drove us, so it shouldn't take long. They're going to bring the other players from St. Rudolph with them."

Tezuka Kunimitsu, eighteen-year old captain of Seigaku, was as much a morning person as Eiji and Momo were not. His face was calm and cleanly sober, his eyes sharp and direct behind thin glasses, and his layered golden-brown hair was naturally windswept-looking without actually being out of place. Tall and lithe, he was often mistaken for the coach of the team, rather than a student captain.

"Kaidoh should have been here by now," Tezuka frowned, having looked over the assembled players and immediately noticed the absence.

Inui, who'd wisely left his now-drooling owl near the bags where Tezuka wouldn't see it and ask questions, stepped over to join his captain and vice captain. The others were once more looking through Eiji's bag of snacks and debating which would be best given to Fuji, who was known to actually enjoy exotically foul concoctions.

"There is a 75 percent chance Kaidoh is lurking on the other side of the clubhouse to avoid being spotted by Echizen's cat," said Inui. He pushed his hand up, straightening his glasses so they glinted. "There is also a 22 percent chance that he's run afoul one of the other schools, in which case we can expect him directly."

Tezuka turned his head, steely eyes flicking over to stare pointedly at the building and the shadows showing from the corner closest to the surrounding greenery. He stared for three minutes of fierce silence. Then he turned away and crouched to help Kawamura and Oishi redistribute the lunches so no one would have to carry them all. If Kaidoh had been lurking, he'd have come forward the moment he noticed his captain's expression. He was the most respectful of the underclassmen, not that it was difficult when his competition were Momo and Ryoma.

They’d repacked the meals and gathered their luggage in one general pile by the time the next person arrived. Alone and looking conspicuously uncomfortable, the teen stopped at the edge of the court, a good five feet from them. His visible anxiety increased when he looked them over.

“Hi,” he said to Kawamura, the only Seigaku player he’d actually spoken with in the past. “You didn’t happen to see an orange cat around here, did you?”

Ishida Tetsu, a second year player on the Fudomine tennis team, was rather tall and muscular for his age, with broad shoulders, wide dark green eyes, and a white scarf over his clean shaven head. Although he was dressed in street clothes like the Seigaku players, he held one of his team’s black jackets in his hands, pale orange hairs standing out against the dark cloth.

Kawamura glanced back at the carefully arranged pile of luggage and the two cages set off to the side. Karupin met his gaze with a bored rowl, and Ryoma shook his head.

“Karupin doesn’t like other cats,” Ryoma frowned. “I’d know if there was another one around here.”

Tezuka, who’d been assured by Ryuzaki that pet cats were more than welcome where they were going, stepped forward to greet Ishida with a sharp nod. He was almost relieved to know one of the other teams was bringing a pet.

“Would you like us to help you look for it while we wait for the others to arrive?” asked Tezuka.

Rather than look grateful for the offer, Ishida actually winced a little. He sent a wary look over the assembled Seigaku team and shook his head. “That’s okay. Tachibana-san would kill me if one of you got bitten. It’s not a nice cat…”

And that was a major understatement. Ishida had fidgeted a little so his forearms were visible. Small pinkish scratches showed everywhere from his knuckles to where his elbows disappeared into his shirt sleeves. Suddenly his wary expression, and the way he kept glancing around him, made sense. He wasn’t worried about not finding the cat so much as he was worried about the cat finding him.

Tezuka’s eyebrow twitched. The last thing they needed was for one of his teammates to be jumped by a rabid cat. That thought reminded him of Inui’s speculation, and he stiffened suddenly. He turned his head slowly to look at the data player. Inui met his gaze with a smug nod and evilly glinting glasses. Missing Kaidoh plus missing cat equaled trouble.

The sound of running footsteps reached them a few seconds before a figure rounded the building and skidded to a stop by Ishida. “Found him!”

Kamio grinned up at Ishida, whose shoulders promptly slumped with relief. Then he caught sight of the Seigaku players grouped a few feet away. His sights immediately narrowed on Momoshiro and his demeanor changed from amused to very unamused. He stalked over to stand in front of the taller boy, his hands on his hips.

“You,” Kamio muttered, glaring up at Momo with intense dislike. “From now on, you stay away from Shinji. All you do is cause trouble.”

Ryoma quirked an eyebrow, and Momo blinked in wide-eyed surprise.

“What did I do?” Momo blurted, leaning a little away from the irate redhead. “I haven’t seen either of you guys for at least a week.”

“Don’t try to get out of it,” Kamio growled. “I know you gave that thing to him. Shinji told me how pushy you were. You never stopped to wonder why he’d hesitate, oh, no, you just jumped right in and stuck him with a psychotic pet he’s not even allowed to have. He should have made you keep the thing.”

Momo stopped shaking his head long enough to scowl. “What thing are you talking about? I don’t even know what-“

Kamio cut him off with a vicious wave of his hand, turning to point behind him. “That thing! That psychotic cat!”

A number of heads turned to center on the quiet figure who’d approached while they were otherwise distracted. The first thing they saw was the large furry orange cat, which didn’t look psychotic so much as playful. Then they took note of the person it was clinging to. Inui gave a smug smirk and jotted a few lines in his notebook.

Kaidoh Kaoru, second year Seigaku player commonly known as Mamushi for his snake-like habits, was standing at the edge of the building with a blush on his cheeks and an orange cat on his right shoulder. Tall and lithe, he wasn’t quite broad enough for the cat to stretch out on him, so it was standing with its hind legs on his shoulder and front feet on his head, paws batting playfully at the green bandanna he had over his thick black hair. The cat turned its furry face toward the people and let out a resounding hiss. Kaidoh blushed darker and put an embarrassed hand on the cat, who promptly went from spitting to purring and rubbing its cheeks on his bandanna.

Kamio turned back to Momo with a vindicated expression. He bristled when he found the taller boy smothering a laugh and not looking the least bit contrite. “Oi! Momoshiro!”

“Hah!” Momo laughed, pointing at Kaidoh and making the already embarrassed boy glower. “I think he likes you, Mamushi.”

Kaidoh let out a growling hiss that sounded remarkably like the one the cat had given. He’d come close enough to hand the cat to Ishida, but the Fudomine player hurried over to Kamio instead. The volatile redhead was a few seconds away from launching himself at Momo and wringing his smug neck.

“Momo,” Kamio yelled, not quite pulling free of the restraining hand Ishida had placed on his shoulder. “Take responsibility, teme! I know you gave that thing to him. Where do you get off dumping cats on people? Do you know how sick you made him?”

Ryoma smirked, his slanted eyes flicking up at Momo. “You shouldn’t make rival players sick, Momo-senpai. It’s not sporting.”

“What?” Momo yelped, glaring from Ryoma to Kamio. “I didn’t make anyone sick!”

“You did so!” Kamio fumed. “Shinji’s eyes were so red I thought he’d turned into that Rikkaidai freak.”

“Wha-“

Ryoma gave a look of mock disapproval. “You didn’t make him cry, did you, Momo-senpai?”

“I don’t even-“

“You just couldn’t mind your own business,” Kamio growled. “No, you had to shove that cat on him and run off. If you’d just left it alone, I would have-“

“All I did was-“

“-been there in a few minutes. I could have called the animal shelter instead of having to harbor some psychotic cat just because-“

“Animal shelter? What kind of-“

“-you had to go giving it to him like it was some kind of gift. He was sneezing so bad he could have fallen off the bridge or been hit by a car. And you have the nerve to-“

“Wait! Are you saying-“

“-act like you don’t even remember. Then you don’t even have the decency to-“

“-he’s allergic to cats? I thought he was just-“

“-apologize for what you did. When Shinji gets here, you’re going to take that cat back and keep it yourself!”

“-being slow like he usually is…”

Kamio flinched to a halt, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Slow…?”

Momo snapped his mouth shut, wincing a bit and leaning further away from the Fudomine vice captain. “Er…”

“Teme! Where does an idiot like you get off-”

A safe distance away, Tezuka was rubbing his temple with a pronounced frown. Eiji was peaking over Oishi’s shoulder with a curious expression. Ishida had given up trying to calm Kamio down and was now talking to Kawamura about a tennis move they’d both experimented with. Inui sidled up to Kaidoh, who’d gone to lean against the building with the cat still rubbing its face all over his bandanna.

“You have a significant weakness for cats,” Inui remarked, smirking when the younger player looked away all flustered and annoyed. “Don’t worry, that’s not the sort of data I’d use on the court. I would, however, be interested in testing a hypothesis of mine. If you’d step over to that cage…”

Kaidoh scowled a little, unable to deny a request from his senpai. He followed Inui until he spotted what was inside the cage. His eyes widened and for a moment he forgot to blush over the cat on his shoulder. “What happened to that owl…?”

“She had a rather adverse reaction,” Inui said pleasantly, his glasses gleaming.

The snowy gray owl glurbled and shook the edge of one drooping wing. Kaidoh dropped into a crouch and brushed tentative fingers over the feathers sticking out of the cage. Inui opened his notebook and held his pen aloft.

“Now,” he said, in a scientific tone, “if you’ll bring the ‘psychotic cat’ close to the cage…”

Kaidoh looked around with wide eyes. “What are you…?”

“Go ahead,” Inui said with a pleasantly disturbing smile.

“H-hai…Inui-senpai…”

The owl gurgled at the sight of the cat. The cat sniffed at the wingtip protruding from the cage. The owl drooled a bit and splayed the feathers so they brushed the cat’s nose. The cat let out a yowl and bolted over the stacked bags, its fur standing on end.

“As I suspected,” Inui said calmly, writing in his notebook. “Animal instinct to avoid infection…”

Kamio and Momo jumped at the ear-splitting yowl and whirled to see the orange cat bolting away from the court. Kamio’s expression twisted into a helpless grimace.

“Not again! Shinji’s gonna kill me…!” He rounded to glare heatedly at Momo. “This is all your fault.”

“Me?” Momo scowled. “Why didn’t you put it in a cage if you were going to take it with you?”

A calm monotone voice answered from across the court. “He doesn’t like being in a cage, not that I blame him since I wouldn’t want to be put in a cage, either. Of course, it wouldn’t take me as long to figure out the lock as it did him, but he’s a cat, so it’s more impressive that he can get out of a cage. He still shouldn’t be in one to begin with when he doesn’t like it. It’s as bad as taking him to a shelter and putting him in a cage there. If I did that, he’d probably run away, which may be how he ended up under the bridge to begin with. There is a chance he was there because someone dumped him for being psychotic, but I don’t think he’s that psychotic. He just doesn’t like everyone. That’s not so strange. Who likes everyone? I certainly don’t. He’s only b-”

A swiftly indrawn breath cut off the litany of words and was followed by a smothered sneeze. Kamio’s relieved smile faded into a wince. He scowled over his shoulder at Momo, then crossed the court to Shinji.

The dark-haired boy had halted with the first sneeze. Now he stood with the large orange cat purring and rubbing its cheek against his face. His nose and mouth were hidden behind a blue silk handkerchief that had been supplied by his ever-prepared captain.

“Shinji,” his captain said slowly, “I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to bring that cat with you.”

“It’s not his fault that I’m,” Shinji started to mutter, only to interrupt himself with another smothered sneeze.

His captain sighed with resignation. Tachibana Kippei, third year captain and coach of the Fudomine team, took his role as leader very seriously. He considered it his responsibility to take care of his players, particularly the ones who got themselves into trouble more often than not. Tall and naturally professional looking, with his perfectly clean clothes and evenly cropped black hair, he had dark warm eyes, an easy smile for his teammates, and a circular birthmark on his forehead. Few people who looked at him would realize he’d sported wild blonde hair and a haughty glower just two years ago.

Tachibana waved for Kamio to take the cat, but Ishida got there first. As much as the feline liked chewing on Ishida’s arms, it had a wild fancy for red hair and was prone to attacking Kamio’s face when given the chance. Ishida wrapped the struggling cat in his already hair-specked coat.

Shinji sniffled and rubbed the back of his hand over his damp eyes. “I can hold him myself, you know. He’s my responsibility. Just because Kamio makes me keep him at his house doesn’t mean he’s not mine. It’s not right to make Ishida hold him when they don’t like each other. Ishida has birds at home, and a cat can smell that when-“

Having cleared his eyes well enough to see what was in front of him, Shinji took note of the Seigaku players standing across the court from him. He immediately forgot the cat in favor of staring at Ryoma with a vague frown, and at Momo with a more pronounced one. He left Ishida holding the struggling bundle of fur and crossed to stand in front of Momo.

“You’re too pushy,” said Shinji. “I see why Kamio argues with you so much. I thought it was just because you kept hitting on Tachibana-san’s sister, but now I think it’s you. Pushy people are annoying.”

Momo blinked wide eyes and scowled a little, quite defensive. “You were just standing there trying to figure out if you were going to save it or not. What was I supposed to do, let it drown? And I don’t hit on Tachibana’s sister! She’s the one who keeps asking me and Echizen on dates like-“

He glanced across the court in time to see Tachibana raise an eyebrow at him. Momo closed his mouth with a faint blush. “Eheh…”

Ryoma smirked from his place behind him. “Nice one, Momo-senpai.”

Shinji blinked and glanced down at the freshman. His eyes widened when he saw the cage Ryoma was standing next to. “You have a cat, too? And you keep him in a cage. That’s not right.”

“Karupin doesn’t mind being in a cage,” said Ryoma. “He likes to sneak into my tennis bag all the time so he doesn’t get left behind when I go on trips. He isn’t claustrophobic at all.”

“Really?” asked Shinji.

Momo let out a quiet sigh as the two boys crouched to look at Ryoma’s fluffy cat. As often as he and Ryoma ran into the two Fudomine players, he never got over the weird friendship Ryoma and Shinji had formed. It made his habitual fighting with Kamio seem normal by comparison.

“He isn’t usually so quiet when there’s another cat around,” Ryoma was saying. “Are you sure yours is a boy?”

“No,” Shinji shrugged. “Kamio won’t let me hold him much, so I haven’t had a chance to look.”

“How did you name it, then?” asked Ryoma.

“I didn’t. I’m not allowed to have a cat at home, so I don’t want to get too attached. You don’t want another one, do you? He doesn’t like everyone, but he really likes the people he likes.”

Ryoma shot a frown at Momo, catching him by surprise. “Momo-senpai doesn’t have any pets. If he gave the cat to you, you should give it back to him.”

“You,” Momo choked, “you traitor!”

“You shouldn’t give cats to people who can’t have them,” Ryoma said coolly, tugging his cap down a little. “I expected better of you, Momo-senpai.”

“That’s it,” said Momo, scowling at both Ryoma and Shinji. “You don’t even know what happened. All I did was rescue the cat and hand it to him. I thought he’d let it go or find its owner or something. It’s not like I knew he was allergic. But you know, he’s awfully close to your cat, Echizen, and I don’t hear any sneezing.”

Ryoma gave a sigh and shook his head sadly. “Such an irresponsible senpai. I bet Kaidoh-senpai would have taken it.”

“So give it to Mamushi, then,” Momo retorted, folding his arms and scowling off to the side. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about taking care of a cat.”

Shinji tilted his head a little, frowning up at Momo. “Pushy and irresponsible. Kamio was definitely right about you. That shouldn’t surprise me, though, since he’s usually right about people.”

Ryoma nodded sagely, his cap hiding the hint of humor in his dark eyes. “Kaidoh-senpai is much more responsible.”

“Oi!” Momo protested.

“And he likes cats,” Ryoma continued, his tone making it clear that Kaidoh was far superior to the immature Momoshiro. “He’d be able to take care of a pet without pawning the job off on someone else.”

“Very true,” said Inui.

He’d popped up behind the two crouched teens, his sudden appearance making Ryoma jump. Shinji just blinked neutrally, not the least bit unnerved by Inui’s light-reflecting glasses.

“Kaidoh,” Inui continued, in a confidential murmur, “would likely be tickled pink to have a cat he can actually take home with him. The trick will be getting him to admit it. He dislikes ruining his image, you see. Having people realize he has a soft spot for pretty felines would hurt his reputation.”

A droll voice spoke up from a few feet away. “I can hear you, Inui-senpai.”

Inui grinned, his glasses flashing as he glanced over. “Of course you can, Kaidoh. Naturally, that was my intention.”

After a bit more discussion, Ishida was relieved of his squirming, scratching burden. Kaidoh continued to display a faint blush at the smirking looks Inui, Momo, and Ryoma were sending him. He could only hope his cold and dangerous persona would take over before the rest of the rival teams arrived. He’d never live it down, otherwise.

In the meantime, Tachibana had made his formal greetings to Tezuka. The captains were currently discussing the trip, and which players they suspected had been chosen from the other teams. Aside from Ishida, none of the doubles players from Fudomine had been invited. They also commented on the white-haired man who’d come to personally invite them. He’d caused quite a stir at Fudomine, asking around for a coach who didn’t exist.

Tachibana was amused to learn that the man had gotten the idea from Tezuka. The ‘wizard’ wouldn’t have known that Fudomine was unlike the other schools when it came to the people managing the team. Tachibana ran everything, which he would have told the old man if he’d come to him instead of wandering around the school building like some hippie Santa. After having been so coldly dismissed by Seigaku’s captain, Dumbledore had sought to avoid a repeat performance at Fudomine. Instead, he’d caused unnecessary trouble before Tachibana finally caught up with him.

Ishida and Kawamura were off on the other side of the court, once again whispering about the technique Ishida had created, and Kawamura had improved. They were of the opinion that if the others didn’t start arriving soon, they’d take out their rackets and experiment a little. Ishida was eager to try receiving Kawamura’s once-a-game dash hodoukyuu, and to show that he could do the two-handed hit as well as the Seigaku player could. Without his racket, Kawamura accepted the praise and challenge with a pleased smile and a faint blush. He was secretly hoping they wouldn’t have a chance to practice, though. If he picked up a racket he was bound to be so loud he’d wake up Eiji.

Oishi had been content to stand near Tezuka and listen to the captains’ discussion. It wasn’t until he noticed Eiji’s absence that he’d remembered how early it was, and how little sleep his partner had gotten. He blamed himself for that, since he’d called four times the night before to remind Eiji of things he’d likely forget to pack otherwise. He found his partner sitting against their bags, his head drooping ever lower toward his bent knees. With an amused smile, he’d sat beside him and offered a shoulder for the boy to droop on instead. A few minutes later, Eiji was slumped against him and the bags, dead to the world.

Murmured voices announced the arrival of the next group, one in particular sounding above the rest to identify them long before they came around the building and into view.

“Aniki, please! I’m sure he didn’t mean it, Mizuki-san…!”

“Na, Yuuta, you really shouldn’t look behind you when you walk, you might stumble.”

Fuji came into view, his eyes hidden by his happy smile, and his younger brother chafing under the arm he’d thrown over the boy’s shoulders. Behind them trailed a fuming Mizuki, who was tugging a strand of his black hair and staring holes through Fuji’s head, and St. Rudolph’s captain, Akazawa, who was watching the three with an amused smirk.

Dragging his somewhat squirmy brother with him, Fuji went to unload their bags near the rest. He paused when he spotted Oishi and Eiji, his smile shifting from ‘devilishly amused at his brother’s expense’ to ‘honestly fond of his friend’s cuteness’. Oishi smiled back at him and lifted a hand in greeting, not wanting to rouse Eiji. Fuji took advantage of the situation by turning Yuuta and placing a finger over the boy’s mouth, catching him before he could protest the manhandling.

“Ne,” Fuji whispered sweetly, “please don’t wake Eiji, Yuuta.”

Mizuki gave a quiet murmur about how calculating Fuji Syusuke was, using every opening to his advantage. The note of sly approval added to the faint blush already forming on Yuuta’s cheeks. If being teased and drug around by his older brother wasn’t bad enough, now he had to listen to Mizuki praise the enemy. It just wasn’t fair.

One soft laugh from Akazawa, and Yuuta’s face resembled an overly ripe tomato with light brown hair. He bristled for a full minute before squirming out from under his brother’s arm. His eyes flew over the assembled teens and locked on Ryoma. He beat a hasty retreat from the smothering affection.

Mizuki and Fuji both took a step after the boy. Mizuki glanced over at the tensai, ready with a witty remark for when the teen turned to look at him. Fuji stared after Yuuta for a moment, then stepped smartly to the side and went off to see what Kawamura and Ishida were talking so intently about. Mizuki slumped in fuming frustration at being ignored so completely. Then he shook it off and went to hover over Yuuta’s shoulder. He knew that sooner or later Fuji would be back by his little brother’s side, and when he was, Mizuki would already be in position waiting for him. Two birds with one stone. Nothing less could be expected from the manager of St. Rudolph.

Akazawa watched his teammates settle into some sort of debate with Fudomine’s Ibu, who appeared to be blocking Yuuta from gaining access to Echizen. While that looked interesting, he wasn’t particularly eager to follow Mizuki around. He arranged their bags near Seigaku’s, and went to stand over Oishi and Eiji, who were, in his opinion, far more entertaining.

“Kaneda wasn’t invited,” Akazawa said quietly, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy, or annoy Oishi, who was giving him a less than friendly look. “He would have liked the chance to have a rematch against the two of you. Me, I’d rather have a singles match, against you.”

Oishi blinked in surprise, losing some of the wary tenseness he’d acquired. He couldn’t help but be uncomfortable. His partner was still sleeping against him, and that brought out his protective side, especially when faced with someone who’d targeted Eiji to the point where they’d actually lost a match. The idea that Akazawa wanted a rematch didn’t surprise him. It was the idea that he wanted to play him that caught him off guard. He’d gotten the disturbing impression that Akazawa had enjoyed watching Eiji struggle, not just because it meant they were losing, but because he enjoyed the sight of it, which in turn made Oishi dislike the player in a way he rarely disliked anyone.

“I didn’t play you during that match,” Akazawa explained, with a sly, knowing smile. “I approached it as a singles match, with Kikumaru there as my target. Mizuki identified him as the one to defeat, and I rarely find it necessary to go against his judgment. But you caught me by surprise. I’d be interested in seeing how we match up.”

“You know your shot won’t affect me the way it did Eiji,” Oishi said softly. He winced when Eiji grumbled beside him, reacting to the sound of his name. He held his breath until the redhead settled down, half-curled against him and the bags behind them.

Akazawa smiled and eased away from the pair. “He really can sleep anywhere, can’t he. We can discuss this later.”

Oishi’s eyes darkened as he watched the teen walk over to join the other captains. He was again reminded of why he disliked him so much. It was the way he smiled, especially when he was looking at Eiji. While he didn’t have that manipulative smirk Mizuki specialized in, there was something…sleazy…about the way Akazawa smiled. It made Oishi want to cover up his partner so the guy couldn’t look at him at all. He instinctively felt protective and defensive when he saw that smile, and he suspected he would accept if the captain were to challenge him to a real match.

Over on the other side of the growing stack of luggage, Kamio was in a very different mood from the one he’d been in earlier. Now that he no longer had to keep that psychotic cat at his house – supplying the tissues when Shinji insisted on holding it at least twice a day – he was fine standing next to Momoshiro. The two of them were far too distracted by the bickering in front of them to start an argument of their own. Kamio was actually impressed. He’d never seen Shinji be so rude to someone as he was to St. Rudolph’s Fuji Yuuta.

“Look, I don’t even know you,” Yuuta was saying, waving his arms in exasperation. “You act like you’re Echizen’s keeper or something.”

“I don’t see why you lie when we both know you’re lying,” Shinji murmured back, his slightly narrowed eyes and thin frown showing his displeasure. “You know me as well as I know you. We met on this street court not more than a month ago. You interrupted me and tried to get Echizen to play you, when I had the right to a match first. Then you messed things up so I had to play with Echizen instead of against him. Not only that, but I had to play against Kamio, when, if anything, it should have been me playing with him against Echizen and that pushy guy Kamio likes to yell at. Actually, that was more his fault, now that I think about it.”

Shinji turned to scowl at Mizuki, who blinked in surprise. Behind him, Kamio was smirking at Momoshiro’s insulted expression. Yuuta shot a pleading look down at Ryoma, who merely smiled and tugged his cap lower over his face.

Mizuki raised his hands with a quick smile. “I counted points, but it was actually Fuji Syusuke’s idea to draw straws to determine the pairs.”

“Another Fuji,” Shinji muttered, scowling at Yuuta again. “Yuuta’s brother shouldn’t put his nose in other people’s business.”

A strange thing happened after that insulting statement. Yuuta’s previously pained face shifted into a wide-eyed look of surprise. Then he smiled.

“Maybe we should play a match,” suggested Yuuta, “to see who gets to play Echizen first.”

“I’ll crush you,” Shinji warned. He frowned a little in confusion when Yuuta’s smile didn’t falter at all. He was even more confused by the amused smirk on Mizuki’s face. His expression grew instantly suspicious.

“Are you going to help Yuuta’s brother mess things up again?” he asked Mizuki.

Yuuta beamed, and Mizuki chuckled, twirling a finger around the loose hair that fell along his forehead. Shinji had no idea how happy he’d made Yuuta, having Fuji referred to as his brother, rather than the other way around. He shook his head at the Fudomine player and flashed him a serene smile.

“Not at all,” said Mizuki. “I’ll be more than happy to distract…Yuuta’s brother…while you two have your match.”

Yuuta rounded with a surprised expression, his eyes almost shining. “Mizuki-san…”

With a sly smile, Mizuki curled an arm over the younger boy’s shoulders. “Leave it to me, Yuuta-kun.”

A cheerful voice and a seemingly absentminded push broke them apart. Fuji was abruptly between them, tugging Yuuta away with a blind smile that disregarded Mizuki’s very existence.

“Saeki’s here,” Fuji smiled, pulling his brother away from them. “He looks very lonely. Come cheer him up with me.”

Yuuta shot a wincing look back at the fuming Mizuki, and wilted a little. “Hai…”

“Yuuta’s brother is rude,” Shinji commented, frowning after the two.

“Quite,” Mizuki glowered.

Behind them, Ryoma tugged on his cap with a snarky, “Mada mada dane.”

Just as Fuji had noted, Saeki was standing near the edge of the court, his eyes downcast and almost forlorn. He let out a relieved sigh when Fuji joined him, and even managed a faint smile for Yuuta's uncomfortable blushing.

"Just me," said Saeki. "I really don't understand why Davide wasn't invited, or even Kentarou - he's the captain. It's like Rokkaku barely got a glance. You should have seen Kentarou's face..."

Fuji gave a sympathetic smile and released Yuuta so he could put a warm hand on his friend's drooping shoulder. "I'm glad you came, anyway."

"And I don't think they invited people according to standard," Yuuta offered. "I'm the only first year on the team, but I was invited while Kisarazu-senpai wasn't. But he heard from his brother that Hyoutei's entire regular team was invited, everyone but their reserve, even though he was the one who played Echizen in an official match. They can't be using any set standard to choose people."

Fuji flashed his brother a grateful smile. "See? It's nothing to feel guilty over. You won't be alone, either. You can stay with Seigaku while we're gone, or even St. Rudolph if you want."

Yuuta nodded quickly. "Mizuki-san would like that."

"Seigaku would probably be best," Fuji said, his smile widening inexplicably.

Yuuta glowered and gave a sudden nod to the white-haired teen. "Excuse me, Saeki-san. I need to get back to my team now."

Saeki watched the boy walk away, smirking a bit at Fuji's resigned sigh. "You're as unsubtle as ever, Fuji. I mean it, you have to work on that brother-complex."

Fuji's eyes opened a bit, just enough to glint knowingly at Saeki. "Maybe it would be better for you to stay close to St. Rudolph during this trip. You could keep an eye on certain people, and keep Yuuta company, of course."

Saeki laughed and rested his elbow on Fuji's shoulder, following his gaze across the court where Yuuta was once more as close as thieves with Mizuki. "I'll do it, Fuji, but you have to promise me you'll work on it."

"I already have," Fuji said simply. "Anyone but him, Saeki. I can stand being grateful to him for taking care of Yuuta, but I'll never like him."

"You still think he's just using Yuuta to get to you?" asked Saeki.

"He doesn't even have the grace to hide it," Fuji sniffed distastefully.

Across the court, Mizuki found himself suffering from a sudden sneezing fit.

"Saeki-kun! Where's your team?"

Fuji and Saeki turned to find three familiar Yamabuki players approaching. Well, one approaching them, a little one darting off toward Echizen, and one standing a foot from the edge of the court and looking as if he'd stay rooted in that spot until he was forced by gunpoint to move. Taichi Dan waved at them as he passed, and Sengoku stopped next to Saeki with a cheerfully curious smile. Akutsu Jin remained glaring bloody murder at anyone who dared to so much as look in his direction.

"My team wasn't invited," Saeki said in answer to Sengoku's question. "I take it the three of you are the max from your team?"

"Yep," Sengoku nodded. He shrugged and smirked back at Akutsu. "Funny they invited Jin, though. He really didn't want to go, since he stopped playing tennis, and he's not even on the team anymore. But that old man threatened him with something. I'm not really sure what, but I think it had to do with some…missing owls…"

Saeki flushed and paled consecutively, his eyes flicking away to avoid Fuji's raised eyebrow. "Imagine that..."

Sengoku grinned but didn't enlighten Fuji as to the owl mutilation he'd caught Saeki committing. Luckily for Saeki's dignity, Fuji was distracted by a worrisome sight. Kawamura had approached Akutsu and was attempting to engage him in conversation. Fuji joined him, leaving Saeki to ask Sengoku a question that had been buzzing in his head since he'd gotten the letter a few days earlier.

"That person you were meeting," Saeki started, his expression curious. "It wasn't someone from Seigaku?"

Sengoku blinked in surprise, a playful smile breaking over his face. "Didn't I say it was a secret?"

"Yes," said Saeki, "but I didn't ask who you were meeting. I asked who you weren't meeting."

Sengoku gave a slow nod, playing along. "Right. Well, then. No, it wasn't someone from Seigaku. It wasn't anyone who actually lived around there."

"I knew it!" Saeki grinned at the suddenly worried expression on Sengoku's face. "It's the one you roomed with during the Goodwill tournament. That's when you said you weren't going to date girls anymore. He's here if you-"

"You sure know how to get something wrong," Sengoku said cheerfully. "You had it all figured out, too. But you know, I didn't say I wasn't going to date girls. I said I wouldn't waste any more of my time chasing them. I just decided I'd sit back and let them come to me from now on."

Saeki blinked, confusion swamping his face. "Then the person you were meeting was a girl...?"

"No."

"…I don't get it."

Sengoku laughed and patted a hand on the pale-haired boy's back. "That's because it's a secret. But since I can tell you who it's not, it's definitely not Rhythm-kun. He's cute enough, but he's not really my type. Didn't seem too interested in me, either. I don't mind a chase, but jeeze, he'd run all over me, and where's the fun in that? I'm not exactly a push-over, you know."

Saeki sighed. "You're not going to help me out at all, are you."

"Why would I?" Sengoku grinned. "You shot me down before I even thought about hitting on you, so it's not like I owe you info on my rebound target."

A droll expression fell over Saeki's face as he remembered the incident. He was still irritated at the joke that had been played on him. "I really need to pay that Kajimoto back..."

"I wouldn't worry too much," said Sengoku. "I have it on good authority that he wasn't invited. Besides, you were cute when you thought I was going to ask you out. I don't think anyone's ever been that polite about turning me down. Almost made me wish I'd asked you first."

"You would laugh," Saeki grumbled. "I spent two hours planning out what to say so I wouldn't hurt your feelings."

Sengoku nodded sadly. "And that's why I never even thought about asking you out. You're way too nice for me, Saeki-kun."

"Playboy."

"And then some," said Sengoku.

Over by the gray-haired statue of doom, otherwise known as Akutsu Jin, Kawamura was beginning to falter. Whatever strange form of friendship they had wasn't enough to convince the former player to step on the court, let alone to...mingle. Akutsu was very blunt about the danger aimed at anyone who tried to sway him in this.

"I agreed to come," he spat coldly. "I never said I'd play. I've no intention of stepping onto a tennis court again."

Kawamura bit his lower lip, sending a worried glance over at Fuji, who'd come to stand near him as if providing moral support. He didn't feel comfortable talking about the short game Akutsu had played with Echizen before the match against Rikkaidai, not with his teammate right there. As far as he knew, Echizen had never mentioned it to anyone, so only they knew the Yamabuki player had broken his vow never to touch a racket again so soon after making it. Of course, it had been Kawamura's racket, borrowed for the occasion, but still. He'd seen his old friend play shortly after walking away from the team, a game played solely to encourage someone he swore he hated. That wasn't the sort of subject he could broach with Fuji nearby, which was probably for the best. Akutsu was annoyed enough that he might have seriously considered killing him if he'd mentioned it right then.

"Did you leave your things on the other side of the clubhouse?" asked Kawamura, doing his best to smile at Akutsu's nasty glare. "I can help you bring it over if-"

"You're so pathetic," Akutsu marveled, his upper lip rising a hair. "I'm here under protest, you moron. They've gotten me to go, but they're not getting anything but me. If you're so desperate to be helpful, you can go get the kid's bags since he's too scrawny to carry them himself. And take your little tensai with you. He's so territorial he looks like he's about to piss on your leg."

Kawamura blanched, a furious flush striking out on his pale cheeks. He couldn't even look back at Fuji as he stepped to the side to block him from Akutsu's sight. His voice was a scandalized whisper.

"Akutsu-san, that's uncalled for. Fujiko-chan hasn't done anything to you. If you don't want to be bothered, then-"

"Of course I don't want to be bothered," Akutsu growled, leaning forward so his glare was inches from Kawamura's wide eyes. "Why the hell do you think I'm standing over here instead of prancing around with the rest of you? Leave me alone, Takashi. I've had a very bad day."

Akutsu gave the orange-haired teen a firm shove and turned away just as quick. A moment later he was sitting on the grass opposite the building where everyone else had congregated. Everything in his demeanor, from the large branch he'd torn from a nearby tree and had every intention of using on the next idiot to approach him, to his scowling eyes and sneering mouth, said to leave him the fuck alone or die.

Kawamura wilted and pulled away from Fuji, who'd steadied him after the shove. He turned with a woebegone air, his eyes locked on his feet.

"Gomen, Fujiko-chan..."

"For what?" Fuji smiled. "Come on, Taka-san. He's had a bad day, ne? You can talk to him another time."

Flashing Fuji a grateful smile, Kawamura let himself be drawn over to where Saeki and Sengoku were. He couldn't resist one last glance over his shoulder to where Akutsu was seated, but the resulting glare had him whipping back around very quickly. That hadn't gone at all well...

"You sure are a brave one," Sengoku said, when Kawamura and Fuji joined them. "You and Dan are about the only people who can talk to him, and even Dan had trouble when we met up on the way here. I had to walk between them to keep the kid from saying the wrong thing. Whatever they used to blackmail Jin, he's really sore about it. You just don't do that sort of thing to him and expect to live long."

Fuji frowned and wondered what that would mean once they were surrounded by the very people who were behind that insult. Kawamura, on the other hand, was relieved to know that Akutsu really did have a reason for his current mood. While the shove hadn't been particularly hard, Akutsu had never really lashed out at him physically before. He seemed to prefer publicly humiliating him over the sort of violence he enacted on everyone else. That was the main reason Kawamura refused to stop considering him a friend. Or maybe it was just his painfully consistent good nature, wanting to see the best in everyone.

The only two members of Jyousei Shounan to have been invited showed up with a sullen cloud hanging over their heads. Their coach, Hanamura, had thrown a royal fit when she found out that the invitations were not a joke, and that only two of her masterpieces had been chosen. The old wizard had somehow convinced her to let them go, but the way she'd looked at them when she told them the news...

Reiji's shoulders had taken on a permanent slump and even Wakato's pleasure at one-upping Kajimoto was dampened. The red-haired player walked as if each step was painful, and it had nothing to do with the heavy bags hanging over his shoulder. But unlike Reiji, he managed to divert himself when he glanced over the other players. His attention locked on a certain reptile-like teen, who appeared to be...cuddling…with a fluffy orange cat. He abruptly abandoned his teammate in favor of annoying the self-proclaimed viper.

Reiji stopped on the edge of the court, once again feeling lost. Not only had he inadvertently incurred Hanamura-sensei's wrath, but he was surrounded by people he barely knew by name and didn’t care to know any better. He wasn't the sort to start trouble with people he'd played against in the past, nor was he interested in joining the 'captain's circle', since he wasn't representing his team now that he'd lost his coach's approval. He sighed and walked over to leave his things near the very large pile of bags. He paused when he noticed the pair seated at the edge of the stack.

Oishi had learned that it was difficult to sit quietly with a warm friend sleeping against his side. After a few minutes of smothering yawns, and flashing weak smiles at Tezuka's raised eyebrow, he'd given in. He'd dozed off almost immediately, and didn't so much as twitch when Reiji carefully set his bags down.

Tempted to join the pair - not in overly close slumber, thank you so much, but in sitting and using the bags as a back-brace while he waited - Reiji sent one slow look over the other players to make sure there wasn't anything better to do. Across the sea of carefully and not so carefully placed bags, he spotted Wakato mocking a fuming Kaidoh, Echizen dozing near a cage with what appeared to be a fluffy Himalayan cat, a few vaguely familiar St. Rudolph players, and the only stranger he'd ever played doubles with.

Shinji blinked at him and tilted his head to the side, reminding Reiji of a cocker spaniel puppy his sister had tried to stick him with the last time she’d gone on holiday.

The similarity brought a tiny hint of a smile to his face, but he winced at the thought of going over there. They'd shared a room during the Goodwill tournament, after Oshitari decided he couldn't spend another night with the boy, and they'd shared a court together in an unquestionably interesting doubles game, two things he'd never done with anyone he didn’t know. And still, Reiji couldn’t decide what to make of him. The Fudomine player was definitely a tensai, but he mumbled at the oddest times, even when he was sleeping, and he'd apologized when they lost their match, as if Reiji wasn't equally to blame. Reiji had found him to be unusual, annoying, interesting, and easy to be around, all at the same time. And the tensai slept with his shirt off. Not that it mattered since Reiji Shinjou was undeniably straight, and had been since he'd first laid eyes on Hanamura-sensei. It was just another detail to add to his informal inventory of Ibu Shinji.

With a resigned sigh, Reiji gave in and answered that tilted head with a slight nod. He crossed over the court and stopped next to the Fudomine player. Shinji's head tilted a bit more so he could look up at him.

Reiji shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and gave another nod. "Hello."

"Hi," said Shinji.

They stared at each other for a minute. Then both turned to watch the theatrics passing between Kamio and Yuuta, who were quite deep in a discussion about how many times Fuji had visited Tachibana at the hospital, and whether he'd been seeing Ann since. Yuuta had no idea what the redhead was talking about, but with Momo on his side, Kamio wasn't about to back down. It had built to an interesting impasse. Mizuki was hanging on every word, Kamio was fuming at the idea of Fuji having a secret affair with Tachibana's little sister, and Momo was getting a kick out of seeing Kamio yell at someone else for a change.

None of the talk seemed to bother the two boys dozing off to the side of them. Yamabuki's Taichi Dan had taken his Echizen-mimicry to a new level and was currently pretending to sleep a foot from the prone Seigaku freshman. It would have been more believable if he'd had a cap to cover his bored face.

A pained cry broke out over the court, making the Golden Pair jerk upright with blurry eyes, and causing Ryoma to scowl and jerk his hat further down over his face. Wakato had just learned exactly how much that fluffy orange cat - formerly Shinji's and now Kaidoh's - liked red hair. One minute he'd been mocking a growling and bristling Kaidoh, with Inui smirking and taking notes a few feet away. The next he was on his backside in the middle of a pile of bags, holding his scratched cheek with a horrified expression on his face. The only thing going through his mind was that he didn't want a scar because he couldn't pull off the permanent plaster on the face thing like Kikumaru Eiji could.

Wakato didn't even pause to yell at Kaidoh for not controlling his rabid pet better. He made a beeline for his bag, intent on finding his mirror and making sure the damage was minimal. He'd resigned himself with being separated from his doting fangirls for the next month, but he couldn't go back to them with a scarred face. They were too shallow for that. They'd dump him and he'd have to start gathering fans from scratch. The prospect was too depressing to even entertain.

Eiji yawned and leaned to his right so he could stretch his arms without whapping Oishi upside the head. Then he flexed forward and winced at a light pop in his back from leaning against the bags. Beside him Oishi was rubbing a hand over his eyes and marveling at the fact that he'd actually dozed off with so many people around him.

"Oishi?" Eiji murmured, once he'd woken enough to notice all the players gathered on the court. "When did Fuji get here?"

Oishi smothered a yawn and pushed his sleeve back to glance at his wristwatch. "It's only been an hour...? Fuji got here a few minutes after you fell asleep. Feels like we've been here all night, or morning."

"No," Eiji muttered, rubbing his own eyes. "I'm still tired. I definitely wasn't asleep for hours."

He flashed his partner a knowing smirk. "I can't do the power-nap thing like you. If I'm not out long enough to dream, it's not a real sleep."

"Sorry," Oishi offered with a wan smile. "But it's probably just as well. It looks like most of the teams have arrived. Fudomine, St. Rudolph, Yamabuki, only one person from Rokkaku...? And Jyousei Shounan's Reiji is over there with Momo."

"I'm here, too, you know," Wakato grumped.

The two teens turned to look over at him with surprise, not having noticed him where he was crouched over a bag to their right. Eiji winced in sympathy at the red scratch marring the boy's cheek and fingered his own bandage. "What happened?"

"That snake's cat scratched me," said Wakato, with a nasty glare over at Kaidoh, who was petting said cat with a smug smirk.

"It's Kaidoh's cat?" Eiji blinked, looking from Kaidoh to Oishi. "Nya, Oishi. I thought it was Ibu's cat."

Oishi shrugged. "It's been a busy hour..."

“It’s about to get busier,” said Tezuka.

Oishi and Eiji were surprised to see that the informal ‘captain’s circle’ had broken apart, with Tezuka and Fuji now standing near them and their luggage, the others rounding up their own teammates. Oishi got up and pulled Eiji along with him. He ran a quick hand over his slightly rumpled clothing and was ready when the Hyoutei team made its entrance onto the courts.

Atobe Keigo sauntered across the court with an almost helplessly amused smile on his face. They’d remodeled the cheap ‘public’ court since the last time he’d visited it, but it was still pathetically inadequate for a player of his esteemed talents. Not to mention that it was dirty and had real grass separating the court from the little clubhouse. He walked right up to Tezuka and stopped, his team spreading out behind him.

“Who’d have thought we would have a rematch before the Nationals,” Atobe said as a greeting. “Fortuitous, isn’t it?”

Tezuka didn’t give any reaction to the taunting gleam in Atobe’s eyes. It was too troublesome to egg the rival player on. With his ego, Atobe did well enough without provocation.

“There’s no guarantee that we’ll be matched against each other at this event,” Tezuka said evenly. “But if we are, it should be a good game.”

“Yes, it will,” Atobe said silkily, almost giddy at the prospect – not that he’d show it since that sort of immaturity would have undermined his perfectly superior demeanor. “This time I will defeat you at full strength. Is it safe to assume your arm is actually healed this time? I wouldn’t want to put you in the hospital again…”

Tezuka’s eyes narrowed a fraction, the only sign he gave to that taunt. Neither of them had been satisfied with the results of their match, but he knew for a fact the victory had been empty for Atobe. He’d made that clear when they’d shaken hands after the match. Why the insufferably arrogant captain insisted on pretending otherwise was a mystery that Tezuka wasn’t quite masochistic enough to try and solve. So instead of speaking and encouraging the narcissist, he held his stoic silence and simply stared. Tezuka was very good at staring.

“Well,” Atobe said, after the silence had stretched a little longer than he cared for, “there will be more than enough time for that when we get to Hogwarts. I take it you’ve never been there, Tezuka-kun?”

Kamio, who’d joined Tachibana the moment the Hyoutei team strolled onto the court, snorted at the taunt. He was never going to see Atobe Keigo as anything but a pretentious worm who had to threaten girls to get them to date him. The fact that the girl he’d threatened was none other than Tachibana’s sister made it even more condemning. Why was it all the really annoying tennis players had to go after Ann-chan?

“I’ll bet you have,” Kamio muttered, just loudly enough for the self-absorbed jerk to hear him. “Hanging out with perverted owl-raising weirdos would be right up your alley.”

Atobe blinked in amazement, disbelief lighting his perfectly porcelain complexion. He turned to stare at Kamio as if he’d never seen him before in his life. “Who said you could speak to me? Kabaji, get rid of this peon.”

“Usu.”

The tall teen bent over to set a snoring body on the ground. Then he reappeared, his head towering over the rest of Hyoutei’s team. He stalked through them with his sights set on Kamio, who actually took a step back in surprise.

Tezuka let out a silent groan and dropped his head, rubbing his temple again and not interfering since, happily, it wasn’t his team this time. Atobe smirked at the pained look on his eternal rival’s face, more interested in that than the mayhem he’d instigated. Neither of them noticed when Fuji slipped off with an innocent smile.

Kamio wasn’t the sort to back down when someone he taunted actually got angry enough to try and attack him. Normally he’d just dodge a little, make the person look like an idiot, and taunt him some more. But the very large Hyoutei player was like a brick wall when it came to insults, and anyone who’d seen him play knew he had impossible speed to go with his hulking mass. A deep sense of self-preservation had Kamio swallowing his pride and letting Ishida shield him from the oncoming menace. He hadn’t counted on how very focused Kabaji could be when he was given a direct order from Atobe.

Kabaji pushed Ishida aside with a little more force than necessary. Tachibana stepped forward and caught the rival player’s wrist, not the least bit intimidated by the size difference.

“That’s enough,” said Tachibana. His tone was as cold as any parent lecturing a delinquent child.

Kabaji halted and blinked down at him in slow surprise.

“This is hardly the sort of behavior for upstanding Japanese tennis players to be displaying,” Oishi started, though his disapproving tone was directed at Atobe, rather than Kabaji. “Do you want Hyoutei to be known as Neanderthals?”

Atobe didn’t take his eyes off Tezuka’s pained expression, but his smirk widened a bit. “Your vice captain sounds quite distraught, Tezuka-kun. Shouldn’t you look to see what’s disturbing him?”

Tezuka’s eyebrow twitched. Atobe wanted him to look, wanted him to get a pounding migraine, just so he could smirk at him and take credit for having caused it. He knew the supercilious captain would stop his lumbering thug before anyone from Fudomine was actually hurt. The entire thing was just a display of his supposed power – that prowess he liked to go on about so often.

“Are you all right, Ishida-san?” asked Kawamura, who was now standing near the Fudomine player and frowning unhappily at Kabaji.

“Take this, Taka-san,” a cheerful voice murmured.

Tezuka’s head jerked back. He knew that voice, especially when it said those particular words. He rounded on Fuji a few seconds too late. “Don’t-“

“GREAT-O! I’m BURNING!”

Tennis racket in hand, Kawamura was transformed into a raving lunatic with a very loud voice and mangled English, complete with fire billowing in his eyes and so much energy a person could almost see it flaming around him. Kabaji turned to stare, blinking his brown eyes in an almost curious fashion. He didn’t notice when Tachibana released his wrist in favor of lecturing Fuji for making a bad situation much worse. Fuji simply smiled that pleasant ‘I’m enjoying the show’ smile of his. A few people on the outskirts of the crowd turned to blink in surprise at the low chuckles coming from a certain similarly psychotic player seated on the other side of the court.

“No one touches MY friends!” Kawamura bellowed, grinning in challenge at the significantly larger teen. “You want to try me?? Yosh! LET’S GO!”

Kabaji cocked his head to the side and blinked over at Atobe, clearly uncertain as to how he should get through the interesting bipolar player. The last time he and Kawamura had played each other, both of them had ended up in the hospital, and Kabaji wasn’t exactly eager for a repeat performance. That had really hurt…

Tezuka was scowling over at the peacefully smiling Fuji, who was looking quite pleased with himself. Atobe finally realized that he was no longer the center of anyone’s attention, except for the obedient Kabaji, who didn’t really count anyway since he always had Kabaji’s attention.

Atobe’s smirk faded into a little scowl and he sniffed in distaste. “Kabaji. Wake up Jirou and start bringing our things from the van. The little peon isn’t worth this much trouble.”

“Usu,” said Kabaji.

“Oi!” yelled Kamio.

Momo and Oishi caught the redhead before he could launch himself at Atobe, both of them feeling a very strong sense of déjà vu. Luckily for them, Tachibana was there this time. Kamio gave up the fight the moment his captain frowned at him.

Sulking angrily, Kamio sufficed with grumbling under his breath about insufferable asses who were too stupid to realize his name was much more important than Momo’s and that it was an honor to be given it, and he’d definitely show the jerk the next time he caught him away from his bull-like bodyguard. He didn’t really notice that his grudge and grumbling were very reminiscent of Shinji. If he had, he might have questioned how much time he spent with his friend, and the bad habits that were undoubtedly rubbing off on him.

Now that his hands were free, Oishi hurried to take the racket away from Kawamura. The tall orange-haired player looked ready to chase after Kabaji, or at least start ranting about how cowardly it was to run away from a challenge. The moment the racket was slid from his grip, the ranting faded into an abashed sigh. The kind, shy, and all-around nice guy was back, just like that.

Oishi handed the racket to Fuji with a pointed frown. The tensai smiled at him and returned it to Kawamura’s tennis bag.

Fuji didn’t show a hint of regret for having acted so rashly because, really, he didn’t regret it at all. It was always fun to see Kawamura fired up, and if the display annoyed the heck out of Tezuka, well, that just made it even better. There was also the added bonus of drawing attention away from Atobe. Truly, there was absolutely nothing to regret about his actions. Except maybe that he would have liked it if the display had lasted a while longer. He’d never seen Akutsu Jin chuckle before, and he was curious how a ‘burning’ Kawamura would greet his old friend. As it was, he filed the idea away as something to test out the next time he was bored.

The Hyoutei players dispersed a little when Kabaji walked through them. He bent down and picked up the limp body from where he’d placed it on the ground. Holding the boy by the back of his shirt, he gave him a rough shake and let go.

Akutagawa Jirou, third year Hyoutei regular and bona fide narcoleptic, let out a whimpering groan and slumped onto his backside when Kabaji dropped him. He was on the short side, with curly pale brown hair that lent itself to orange and was constantly tousled due to his habit of dozing off in the strangest places. He swayed gently, blinking sleepily at his teammates, and then past them to Atobe, and few feet to the right where a familiar Seigaku player was standing. A tiny spark ignited in his eyes and grew, brightening slowly until a wide, happily curious expression took over his face.

“It’s Fuji Syusuke!” he chirped cheerfully, coming as close as he got to being fully awake, outside a really interesting tennis match. He hopped up as if he hadn’t just been dead asleep, and hurried over to beam at the smiling tensai.

“What do you think the matches will be, Fuji-kun? Ne? You think we can play each other? Mmm! I want to play you again! If we don’t get matched, would you play a game with me, anyway? Please? You’re really fun to play! Your triple counters are so interesting! I wanna return your tsubame gaeshi! Or your higuma otoshi! That would be so cool…!”

Fuji smiled at the cheerful teen and resisted the urge to pat him on the head. While Jirou was undoubtedly a Hyoutei player, his personality was more akin to Eiji than any of Atobe’s normal regulars. Jirou’s enthusiasm could be irritating to some – Tezuka had called it as exhausting to watch as Eiji on coffee – but his genuine curiosity and love of the game were endearing.

Back with the Hyoutei players, Oshitari was frowning at the bubbling Jirou, his eyebrow twitching with irritation. "He never shows enthusiasm like that when I use higuma otoshi on him. As if Fuji is the only one who can do that move. Once you have seen it, the dynamics are hardly difficult to understand.”

“Bah,” Gakuto sniffed, wrinkling his nose at the annoying narcoleptic. “Jirou just has bad taste. I liked it better when the only rival he went stupid over was that Marui Bunta guy. At least he’s from Rikkaidai instead of a cheap school like Seigaku. It’s one thing for Jirou to pick up that rising shot of his, but if he starts copying Fuji’s moves…egh!”

“Atobe might not disapprove of that,” said Oshitari, though he didn’t look very enthusiastic about the idea. “It doesn’t matter who he picks up the moves from, so long as it improves his game. There is a good chance we will be separated according to House, rather than team, in which case Jirou will most likely be placed with the majority of Seigaku. It’s convenient that he’s so able to ingratiate himself with their tensai. ”

“There you go talking about houses again,” said Gakuto. “This pig place-“

“Hogwarts. It's British.”

“- sounds stupid,” Gakuto finished. “There’s no way I’m getting put with some Seigaku rejects.”

Oshitari gave a slow, scheming-tensai smile that might have rivaled Fuji’s if his eyes had gleamed just a tad more. “Now, Gakuto, don’t be so hasty. Just imagine the chaos you could cause. Between you and Jirou, Seigaku would self-destruct within a week. You should give yourself more credit.”

Gakuto preened and leaned into Oshitari’s side with a smug smile. “I would drive them crazy, wouldn't I. Even Tezuka. Heh, Atobe would have a fit over that.”

“He would,” Oshitari drawled with a smirk. “Best keep your sights on the tensai and leave the captain to Atobe. He’s been looking forward to crushing him far too long to deprive him of that pleasure.”

“Mm, torturing a tensai does sound fun…”

A few feet away, Eiji was squirming with frustrated annoyance. He fidgeted and tugged on his arm, Oishi playing spoilsport on the other end. “Unya, Oishi! You heard that rat. I have to warn Fuji!”

Oishi sent a knowing look from Eiji, over to the speculating Hyoutei pair. He wasn’t fooled by his partner’s claim. The minute he let go of Eiji’s wrist, the spirited teen would be in Gakuto’s line of sight and another unnecessary argument would break out. While Eiji wasn’t really a troublemaker, at least, not all the time, there was something between him and Hyoutei’s own acrobatic player. The two couldn’t even look at each other without Gakuto saying something foul, and Eiji jumping to take the bait. They were natural enemies.

“I’m sure Fuji can take care of himself,” said Oishi. “Can you really see him feeling threatened by them? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were just jealous of the attention Jirou is getting…”

Eiji blinked a bit and frowned over at Fuji, who still seemed to be entertained by the curly-haired narcoleptic. He stared for a long minute, willing himself to see what it was that Fuji found so amusing about the guy. Then he gave up and shot his partner a pouting look. “I’m not jealous. I’m bored…”

“Have you been waiting long, Kikumaru-san?” a soft voice asked.

They turned to find Ohtori Choutarou giving them a somewhat shy smile. Eiji immediately returned the smile with a wide grin. His happy greeting was cut off by Ohtori’s scowling partner.

“You don’t have to be so damned nice about it,” scoffed Shishido. He sent a resigned look at Oishi and shrugged his shoulders. “Choutarou wants a match with you guys. With our real double pairs this time. I told him it was pointless. You had enough trouble trying to return his scud serve when you were paired with me. There’s no way he can do it, so it would be more like two on one than a real doubles game.”

“Oi!” Eiji blurted.

“Shishido-san,” Ohtori said, reprovingly.

“What?” Shishido scowled. “It’s true. They might have beaten Oshitari and Gakuto, but it’s a lot different facing power players like us. You saw how much trouble he had against Kabaji. He’s only good as a cheerleader, anyway.”

Eiji bristled, red spots striking out on his cheeks at the reminder of his single practice game against Hyoutei’s giant. That big moron had driven him to distraction with his ‘usu-usu-usu’ crap, not to mention the humiliating jumping contest they’d had. Reminding him of that match was a low blow. Calling him a girl was lower.

“Yeah?” Eiji sniffed at Shishido. “You’re just mad that Ohtori-kun and I beat you in such an easy come-back. Have you ever won a match without having to bank on your opponent forfeiting, Shishido-san? I’d be more worried about Ohtori-kun, than I would about you.”

Ohtori blanched, sending a wide-eyed look at his now fuming partner. Shishido didn’t react immediately. When he did, it was to give a slow, derogatory smirk at the redhaired Seigaku player.

“Come on, Choutarou,” said Shishido, his eyes flicking away from the pair. “If we get matched with them, I’ll make him eat his words.”

Eiji snorted at the threat, but the gesture was ruined when Ohtori flashed him a regretful look. He winked at the gray-haired youth and made a face at Shishido’s back. Of the two, Ohtori had a much better attitude, even if he were a little reserved. Once he stopped worrying so much, he was really fun to play with.

Shishido started off to meet Kabaji, with the intention of grabbing his and Ohtori’s bags before they were buried under the lot. He paused partway and turned back. “Oi, Gakuto.”

The redhead glanced over his shoulder. “Nani?”

“Seems Kikumaru had a lot of fun playing with Oshitari in that tournament,” Shishido drawled. “You might want to keep an eye on your partner.”

Gakuto whirled around and locked a blistering glare on Eiji. “You keep your beady eyes off Yuushi! Just because you got picked for the tournament doesn’t mean shit. Your acrobatics are pathetic, and your fashion sense is – is…”

Eiji was caught between vehemently denying that he’d enjoyed being matched with Gakuto’s partner, and getting angry at the insults being thrown at him for no reason. He blinked in surprise when Gakuto’s rant trailed off before it had even gotten started. The Hyoutei player was staring at him as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or be sick. Eiji had a sudden urge to look behind him.

“Yuushi,” Gakuto whispered, in a choked little voice, his very wide. “Have you ever seen such a putrid color…? My eyes are burning…”

Oshitari smoothly moved his hand over the redhead’s eyes, blocking his view of Eiji’s green jacket. He grinned down at the trembling player and gently turned him away. “Poor Gakuto. Don’t look directly at it. I wouldn’t want you to hurt your delicate eyes...”

After a strained moment, the trembling broke into semi-hysterical laughter and Gakuto half-leaned on his partner’s arm for support. “It’s just so – so…awful! I can’t even insult him – I can’t look long enough to insult him...! I can't believe he'd w-wear that...that thing...!”

Eiji exploded and Oishi lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Eiji’s waist and almost lifting him off the ground as he did his best to hold the struggling boy back. He was suddenly very aware of a growing silence on the yard, broken only by Eiji’s growls and Gakuto’s laughter. He was also aware of how difficult it was to restrain someone who squirmed and twisted like a rabid cat.

“Let me hit him!” Eiji growled through his clenched teeth. “Please, Oishi! Just once? My mom bought me this coat – I have to hit him! I don’t wanna hurt you, Oisihi, so just let me go hit him, okay? Just one hit? He’s scrawny enough I only need one…!”

Tezuka’s voice cut through the pleas, or demands, as it were. “Oishi, take Kikumaru for a quick walk to cool off. Fuji, why don’t you go with them.”

“Can I go, too?” Jirou asked, his eyes sparkling at Fuji.

“Of course,” Fuji smiled. This time he did pat a hand on the boy’s curly head, because he really reminded him of a puppy. He could almost see the fluffy tail wagging.

Tezuka turned a droll look on Atobe, who was still following him around with a smug expression. “I thought you had better control over your team than this.”

“They’re only being friendly,” Atobe said smoothly, with a pleased, catlike smile. “No harm in that, Tezuka-kun.”

“Yeah?” Momo blurted, having been drawn by the impending cat-fight sounds. His wide ‘I’m looking at one heck of a train wreck’ eyes were locked on Eiji. “You’ll see harm, if he gets loose.”

Eiji could be quite slippery when he wanted to be, though he waited till Tezuka was sufficiently distracted by the smirking Atobe. He ducked under Oishi's arm and darted right into Fuji, who promptly turned him back around with a sweet smile.

"Na, Eiji," Fuji murmured into his ear. "Wouldn't it be better to get him when he isn't expecting it and there are no witnesses? We'll be away from school for a month. I'm sure there will be ample opportunities for your revenge."

All hints of resistance melted away, and Eiji flashed a very wide and equally worrisome grin. Oishi, who hadn't actually heard Fuji's suggestion, but who knew that grin intimately, winced. He quickly put himself between Eiji and Fuji, hoping to avoid any really deviant ideas that might jump from the tensai to the mischief-maker. He was almost grateful to have Jirou hopping alongside them. When he was awake, and even when he was asleep if he fell in a conspicuous place, the Hyoutei player had a way of drawing attention to himself and away from revenge plots.

They passed Kabaji on their way down the concrete steps that ran from the courts to the street below. The tall player had a dozen bags hanging from his arms, but he gave a blink to Jirou, who waved happily at him. A large van was pulling away when they reached the street. Jirou waved at that, too.

"So where are we walking to?" Jirou asked, beaming at Fuji as if the other two didn't exist.

Oishi stopped and looked at the bottom steps. "We can probably just wait here for a while. Mostly Tezuka just wanted to defuse the situation. If we went too far, we might miss Rikkaidai, and the guide is supposed to meet us when we're all here."

Jirou blinked and looked over at Oishi, as if he'd just noticed him there. "Rikkaidai? Is Marui-kun coming? Do you know? He'd have to, right? Atobe said he probably wasn't invited since he's not a real tensai, but I don't believe that. You don't believe it, either, do you, Fuji-kun? Marui-kun is really cool, so he'll have to come. Right?"

"Saa," Fuji sighed, with a mysterious smile as if to say only time would tell. He watched as Jirou sighed and sank to the steps, wilting until his eyelids sagged. Fuji shook his head and looked past the boy. "If you fall asleep now, you won't be able to greet him if he does come."

"That's okay," said Jirou, his gaze shifting over the sharp edges of the steps and wondering how many kinks he'd have if he fell asleep there. "I couldn't talk to him - I've never talked to him. He's too cool. I want him to come so I can watch him play, that's all. He's my idol..."

The formerly happy boy turned wide, soulful eyes up on Fuji, looking just like a puppy whining for some show of affection. Fuji gave an almost involuntary smile. "I see."

"Mm. Just tell 'tobe where I am when you go back, ne? It's nice and quiet down here..."

Eiji eased close to Fuji and peaked over his shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at the Hyoutei player, who appeared to have passed out in the most uncomfortable position possible on a set of cement steps. Jirou was seated sideways, his legs curled on the sidewalk, his head pillowed in his arms on a higher step, the sharp edge digging into his ribs. If Eiji hadn't seen Jirou sleep through half the matches Hyoutei had ever had, usually being carried in by Kabaji, he might have thought the boy was faking it.

"Now that's one weird skill," said Eiji, tilting his head and looking from Fuji to Oishi. "Why do you think Atobe keeps him on the team? He's almost always sleeping."

Fuji answered with that same involuntary smile. "Because he's cute and harmless? His tennis is quite good when he's interested in the game. I wouldn't mind playing him again."

"Just be careful," Eiji said quickly, remembering what he'd overheard earlier. "He's still from Hyoutei. Maybe he's Atobe's secret weapon."

"No," said Fuji, with a careless smile. "That would be Hiyoshi, and he wasn't invited."

"I guess..."

Oishi sent a long look down the road, which was lit by streetlamps spread out so much that large patches of blackness remained. He glanced at his watch, at Jirou, and then at Fuji and Eiji. "It won't be long now. I need to help Tezuka get our things ready. Do you think we should take Jirou back with us?"

"I'll stay," said Fuji. "We can't go without Rikkaidai, and they're more likely to come by car now. If they were walking, they'd have been earlier than this."

"Me, too," Eiji said quickly, flashing Oishi an overly bright smile. "I wouldn't want to start another fight with the rat. I'll just stay down here with Fuji. You go on ahead."

Oishi's expression turned wary and he looked from Fuji to Eiji. The two of them alone when Eiji was bearing a grudge and Fuji was being mischievous? That was a recipe for disaster. He quickly racked his brain for an excuse to get Eiji to go with him. He was still trying to come up with something when headlights lit the street.

"Oh, good," Oishi sighed. Eiji pouted and looked at him suspiciously. He quickly flashed his partner a guileless smile. "That'll be Rikkaidai. See you guys on the court."

Eiji watched until Oishi disappeared up the steps. "I think he heard you earlier, Fuji. I'll have to plan my revenge when Oishi isn't expecting it, too. He'd just spoil it, otherwise."

"There'll be plenty of time later," Fuji assured him, his eyes opening to glint above his devious smile.

"Nya," Eiji grinned. "Remind me never to make you mad at me."

A large gray van pulled to a stop in front of them and they stepped to the side so the team would be able to pass them on their way to the court. Fuji's eyes remained open once he saw who was exiting the vehicle first. Any hint of a smile left his face, and he stared impassively at Kirihara.

"Great welcome," Kirihara muttered, rolling his eyes and making it a point not to look directly at Fuji. "So glad I got roped into this."

"Don't be such a grump, Akaya."

Kirihara sniffed and shot a sideways look at the cheerful teen. Marui Bunta, a third year member of Rikkaidai, had short messy cherry-colored hair and pale lavender eyes. He was carrying his tennis bag and a bulky leather sachet over one shoulder. The rest of his luggage he left in the van. He smirked at Kirihara's expression and popped a noisy bubble of apple-flavored gum in the boy's direction. Kirihara rolled his eyes and looked away again, grumping even more.

"You're not going to carry any of this?" an exasperated voice called from the van.

Kuwahara Jackal, also a third year, was taller than his doubles partner. He had chocolate brown skin, dark gray-blue eyes, and a striking lack of hair. His bald head drew a lot of looks, but he wasn't the sort to care. At the moment he was dragging a pile of bags out of the van and sending light scowls in Marui's direction.

"You don't want to carry them all?" Marui asked, as if he were surprised. "I guess I can carry mine, then, if you really don't want to."

Jackal's eyebrow twitched. "Why would I want to carry your bags? I have enough with mine and Akaya's."

"Did I tell you to carry mine?" Kirihara scowled as he shoved over to grab his bags. "I was just waiting for everyone to get out of the way first. Don't touch my stuff."

"He is grumpy," Jackal blinked, exchanging a look with Marui. "Must be Fuji."

Fuji closed his eyes with a smile, and Kirihara scowled off to the side.

A slightly mocking voice commented from the van as the rest of the team got out. "And Kikumaru's here, too. Nice of you to come greet us."

Niou Masaharu was a tall third year player, with jagged and wild silver-gray hair that he wore pulled back into a tight three inch long braid at the nape of his neck. He had turquoise eyes and a naturally taunting smile. At the moment, that smile was aimed at Eiji, who didn't seem to appreciate it in the slightest.

"I'd hope there wouldn't be any hard feelings," he said. "Since we're all heading off on a trip together, and all."

Eiji shrugged and waved a hand at Fuji. "I'm going to see if the others need any help."

Niou blinked and for a quick second a frown flashed over his face. It was gone by the time Eiji disappeared up the steps, having taken them two at a time. "Huh."

"I don't think he likes you," his partner commented.

Hiroshi Yagyuu, another third year, was about the same height as his doubles partner. He had more of a tan, and his neatly combed short purplish-black hair gave him a sense of being the refined one of the two. He wore white oval glasses that usually reflected the light and hid his eyes from view. Often referred to as 'the gentleman', he acted the part. The first thing he did was nod politely to Fuji. Then he flashed a look at Niou, who was raising an eyebrow at him.

"He's probably holding a grudge," said Yagyuu. "We nearly broke their doubles game. That isn't something a person would forgive easily."

"Whatever," Niou waved. "I didn't see them holding back, so there's no reason I should feel guilty. That's what you do in a game. You win. Whether you have to break up the Golden Pair, or play without your partner, as long as you win, that's what counts. Right?"

Yagyuu looked for a moment, but there was no sign of resentment, just Niou's usual taunting smirk. "Ah."

Sanada exited the van and went to have a few words with the driver before he left. Yukimura crossed to Fuji with a pleased smile.

"I look forward to seeing you play," he said. "Sanada told me about your match with Akaya."

Fuji sent a veiled look at Kirihara, who bristled and made a sudden beeline for the steps. Whether it was his need to put more distance between them, or his annoyance at hearing the hint of gratitude in his captain's voice, Fuji couldn't tell. Either way, he reminded himself that Kirihara had given up his old style of tennis. He didn't have a reason to watch him that closely.

Fuji returned Yukimura's nod, his smile genuine this time. "Tezuka will be very surprised to see you. We didn't know you'd recovered already."

"I'm surprised Sadaharu didn't predict it."

Yanagi Renji stepped up to stand beside Yukimura, his seemingly closed eyes moving from his captain to Fuji. He had sepia brown hair in a straight bowl cut, with the bangs falling around his eyes. Like Fuji, he played with his eyes closed, only he'd never been seen with them open, even during serious matches. Although he had experience as a doubles player, he was commonly known as one of Rikkaidai's Magificent Three.

"Inui did predict it," Fuji smiled at Renji. "He just didn't have absolute proof, so he wouldn't state it as a certainty. We didn't know your entire team had been invited, either."

"Is that odd?" asked Sanada. "I heard Hyoutei had their entire team."

Fuji nodded and glanced over his shoulder at Jirou. "Us, Hyoutei, and you. The other teams had four people at most, Rokkaku only had one."

"Oi," said Niou. "Is he really sleeping like that?"

He prodded the Hyoutei player with the toe of his shoe and arched an eyebrow. The only response he got was a sigh as Jirou curled a bit more into the steps, seeming to melt around the hard edges. Niou stared for a moment before turning and raising both eyebrows at Jackal.

"That isn't natural," Jackal stated, tilting his head and staring at the curly-haired teen.

"No shit," Niou snorted. He grinned and prodded Jirou again.

"Really," sighed Yagyuu, shaking his head in disapproval. "Must you do that? He isn't hurting anything there."

"Looks painful, though, doesn't it?" Marui put in.

Renji frowned at the four doubles players and was glad Kirihara had gone on ahead. There were more than enough players to babysit without Akaya in the mix. Sanada seemed to agree. He frowned at Niou, his cap making his eyes look harder than they were.

"Leave him alone," said Sanada. "Atobe will retrieve him if he doesn't wake up."

"He mentioned that," Fuji nodded. "He said to let Atobe know where he is when we went back to the others."

"What?" asked Niou, frowning a little. "We just leave him here?"

"If that's what he wanted," said Yukimura. He frowned as well, looking from his teammates to Fuji. "Is this common?"

"As far as I know," Fuji smiled. "The only person I've seen wake him up is Kabaji, and that involved dropping him a few feet."

Niou laughed and shot his partner a taunting look. "And you thought I was being mean."

"You were," Yagyuu returned evenly.

"We'll bring him up," Sanada said, ending any more discussion.

"He'll do it," Marui announced cheerfully, turning to point at Jackal.

"Oi," Jackal protested, distress pulling his face. "I thought you were going to stop volunteering me for things."

Marui blinked in surprise. "Don't worry, we'll carry your bags. What? You don't want to?"

"Why would I want to? He's not even on our team."

"So? He isn't any bigger than Akaya. He's cute, too. I bet he's a junior."

"He's a senior," Fuji corrected, his smile just a tad devious. "But he is cute."

Marui grinned and laughed at Jackal's pinched expression. "See? Even Fuji thinks so. Go ahead."

Jackal turned to his captain and vice captain for support. He almost face-vaulted when he found them already halfway up the stairs, Renji right behind them. Niou was grinning at him, clearly not planning to help. And Yagyuu was reaching over to take his bags, as if he'd already agreed to Marui's plan. Jackal frowned at his partner and gave up.

"Do you need help?" asked Fuji, his tone ever so pleasant.

Marui cut him off by handing him one of Jackal's bags. "Yeah, thanks. These bags are heavy."

"He meant me," Jackal muttered, a tad sullen. No one paid him any attention.

Kirihara was waiting at the edge of the court, looking oddly comfortable a few feet from Akutsu. The other players were grouped by school now, each with his bags ready. Kirihara fell in behind Renji and followed the three across the court. Yukimura went straight to Tezuka, Sanada detouring to tell Atobe the location of his missing player.

Atobe reacted with vague annoyance that shifted into surprise when he spotted the rest of the Rikkaidai team. The sight of Jirou being carried piggyback style by an eyebrow-twitching Jackal brought a slow smirk to the Hyoutei captain's face. Atobe turned that smirk on Sanada, even as he waved Kabaji to recover their errant teammate.

"Doing me favors now?" asked Atobe.

"No," Sanada frowned. "I don't know this area. It would have been unsafe to leave him alone at this hour. I thought you would watch your teammates better than that."

Atobe sniffed. "You don't know Jirou. More importantly, is that your captain I see talking to Tezuka? I didn't realize he was so...soft looking."

Sanada's eyes narrowed, but he didn't bother responding to that. "Yukimura wants to have a match against Tezuka."

"He'll have to get in line, then," Atobe said coldly.

"Excuse me," a voice called out, the English catching everyone's attention. "Sumimasen, des ka...?"

Remus Lupin, wizard and newly appointed professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, waved a hand at the students. His sudden appearance, and similarly sudden switch from English to Japanese, brought all eyes to him. He was of medium height, a little on the pale side, and in his late thirties. His hair was brown with premature graying which, along with the stress lines around his eyes, made him look older than he was. He was dressed in shabby tan robes that had definitely seen better days, and he was holding a narrow black wand in his right hand.

Sanada joined the rest of his team, and even Akutsu stood up to glare at the stranger.

"Hello," Lupin greeted in magically enabled Japanese. He moved to stand in the middle of the court closest to the building. "My name is Remus Lupin - that is...Lupin Remus, I think, last name first in Japanese culture...? Just call me Lupin. I'll be your escort. If you'll all move a little closer to the edge of the court - that's right, leaving that court open. Good. Now, then. Normally we'd use a port key for such a large group. I know most of you have no idea what I'm talking about, but explaining would take far too much time. Since none of you has been cleared to apparate, and a port key might prove too strange for muggles like yourselves, we'll be taking the Knight Bus.

"Normally it doesn't travel outside London - has some trouble crossing water, you see - but Dumbledore has taken care of that. What you're going to see is a large bus appearing on that court there, accompanied by a very loud popping noise. We're going to board the bus and take it to London. Once we're there, we'll transfer to train for the rest of the trip to Hogwarts. If you all remain calm, I'll be happy to answer any questions you have once we're underway."

A lot of glances were exchanged among the players, but no one spoke. Lupin was surprised until he remembered how old most of them were. He smiled and turned to face the empty court. Shaking back the sleeve of his robe, he held his wand hand out. A pop and a squeal of brakes later, the bus arrived. Unfortunately for the city officials, the bus burned long tread-marks right down the court, eating straight through to the cement beneath. Fortunately for Lupin, none of the tennis players panicked at the sight.

.-.
TBC

Notes: I warned that this part had lots of dialogue, right? I'll narrow it down in future parts, here I just wanted to get the entire collection of players together and follow them around a bit. A lot of the discussions were based on filler episodes, but the backstory with Sengoku and Saeki is mine. I needed Saeki to have a friend who isn't a Fuji, and Sengoku volunteered. The character focus in future parts will probably be more on my favorites unless I get attacked by some interesting plot bunnies. Expect more HP point-of-view in the future, but the main focus will stay on the PoT boys. (Small credit - I don't know if the anime refers to Yukimura, Sanada, and Renji as the 'magnificent three', I got the term from 'angel of life'.)

Next up, the trip to Hogwarts, aka, lots of rivals in claustrophobic contact with each other and one very disturbed werewolf. ;p