Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Reason ❯ Reason To Stall ( Chapter 2 )

Title: Reason to Stall
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Author: Lethanon
Archive: www.geocities.com/lethanon
Pairing: TachibanaxIbu
Warnings: Angst,yaoi, NC-17 for a very small hand-job at the end…heh…
Notes: Takes place prior to Fudomine meeting Seigaku, follows a weird mix of the anime AND manga storylines. Occurs after `Reason to Stay' and before `Reason to Worry'.

Tachibana Kippei pulled his jacket tighter about his shoulders and tried to suppress the shiver as the cool wind tore through his clothing despite his efforts and chilled his skin. It was an odd sort of cold, as much trapped inside as it was free without and combined the cold made a chill that seemed to ice your bones, even though it wasn't actually that cold. It didn't surprise Kippei; it had been cold often lately.

The swish of the wind as a racket whipped the air was drowned by the crack of the strings as they smacked the ball, sent it cutting through the space in between, a brief moment of silence until it was met once more. Swish, whip, crack, smack. The rhythm of it grew steadily stronger as the days passed, each body adjusting to the freedom of tennis; to the right to play it, to the sense of it, and with each day Kippei grew more wary, all too well aware of the speed at which the balls accelerated and the accuracy that was honing itself to perfection. They almost frightened him, his monsters, but they were his.

The practice ground to a close and they moved off to collect the balls before making their way to the change-rooms. Kippei watched them go before moving off to where Ann waited by the side of the courts, camcorder in her lap, a slight frown on her face as she watched the players leave the courts. He watched her face, studied where her gaze fell, and wondered what she had seen that he had not. What had the camera shown her and what would it show him.

"Interesting?" It always was. Since their first practice they had already filled a shelf with footage of the team's play, using what they studied on the screen each night to improve each individual play the next day. They were such a diverse range of abilities; such an extraordinary combination of plays it was hard to tell which would make the best doubles combinations, the most effective singles placements.

It did not surprise Kippei that Ann had taken such an active interest in the team's performance. She had, after all, always been his unofficial side-coach, training him behind the scenes to overcome the weaknesses he encountered, never leaving his side, always there to see the match. She was his anchor to tennis and when he had needed the break from it all she had gone with him, knowing perfectly well there was nothing that could have kept him from playing. Not even the previous tennis team of Fudomine and its corrupt coach.

"Intriguing," Ann finally whispered, eyes focussed on the closed door of the change room. He wondered what had caught her attention, very much aware there was a distinct difference between interesting and intriguing in the mind of Tachibana Ann. Whatever it was, he was sure it was on film and that he would be seeing it soon enough so he didn't probe to know more, merely left her waiting by the fence as he headed to the change rooms.

Sakurai and Ishida were, as usual, already dressed and packed up, ready to go. They thanked Kippei for the practice, promised to work on the improvements he had shown them that afternoon and marched off, tall and proud with wide smiles on their faces. There was a time when Kippei would have sworn Ishida never smiled and it only made him more determined to get this right; to be a good Captain for them.

Uchimura leant back on the bench he was typically sprawled over to get a glimpse of Kippei from under the cap that one could almost assume was glued to his head. He gave Kippei a peace sign but didn't interrupt Mori's rather loud rant about the injustices of their overzealous math teacher and the pile of homework he apparently was never going to catch up on. Kippei just smiled and moved past them, letting his eyes tune in to the soft, muted beat spewing from the phones in Kamio's ears and letting his eyes adjust the darkness in the far corner and the quiet form hiding in the shadows.

Ibu Shinji was talking to himself, which was not, Kippei had come to learn, all that unusual. But his words had a purpose, each one prompting a mental note Shinji had filed away during the course of the day, creating a nonsensical list of what had to be done that afternoon. There was homework for three subjects, more tennis practice and a trip to the corner store, but none of these things were actually mentioned. In fact, had Kippei not known better he would have sworn Shinji was merely doing what Mori was doing; bitching about a teacher he didn't like, or his sister for being lazy, or about Kippei himself for making him work harder than Shinji would have liked. But Kippei did know better and so was able to see the genius of it, and the humour in it.

He smiled as he watched Shinji peel off the sweat-drenched shirt, inspecting the pale flesh and finding no mark out of the ordinary, no sign of pain or abuse. Nothing like the first stray glance he had received. It was the length by which Kippei measured his own success, that expanse of skin and it told him he was doing fine.

He quickly changed, pleased when he was pulling his shoes on just as Shinji and Kamio were headed for the door. He didn't hurry though, watching with a faint smile as Kamio walked out the door and he could hear Ann call his name, as she did every day, while Shinji hovered in the doorway, still mumbling to himself, but waiting for Kippei.

Tachibana Kippei picked up his bags, slung them over one shoulder and turned off the lights before walking to the door and reaching out to run the fingers of his free hand through Ibu Shinji's hair, watching the way it fell back into place as if his hand had never passed there. But they both knew it had and Shinji shifted instinctively closer, never actually touching, but right there, a breath away, the warmth of his body so near scaring away the cold that had shifted across Kippei's skin all day.

"Have fun?" Kippei asked, watching Shinji's face for a reaction and mildly surprised when Shinji smirked at him and continued to murmur about Kamio's stupidity. Wondering just what he had missed to make Ann intrigued and put Shinji in one of his more nasty moods, Kippei decided to just wait, and let it come to him in the form of a rather succinct video tape.

It was a little disappointing when Shinji followed Kamio home, but not overly so. Kippei liked it when Shinji followed him home, true, but in his current mood Shinji would probably end up saying or doing something Kippei didn't like, and he didn't want that to happen. So he didn't mind when occasionally Shinji would follow Kamio home, without any explanation. It was why they rarely made plans. If Shinji turned up at his house, great, if he stayed away for a few days so be it. Kippei would deal with it. It was how they worked and it worked well and that was all that mattered. Besides, it left him free to focus some of his attention on Ann, so he turned and started walking home, watching her frown from the corner of his eye as she watched Kamio and Shinji march off in the opposite direction. It interested him, that frown. Greatly.

The walk home was familiar. It was an odd thing, to think of it as familiar when the life he had known his whole life was now anything but. It made him realise fully how completely Fudomine, in all its aspects, had taken over his life and how succinctly he had let it. Ann chatted the whole way, about small, mundane things that had caught her attention throughout the day but they both knew all that either really cared about was what was on the tape, so it was no surprise when Ann headed straight for her room when they got home and Kippei followed quickly behind. Their parents didn't comment, having become accustomed to the daily event. If there was tennis practice there was video replay and sometimes they even joined their children, intrigued by what Ann and Kippei were trying to do. Create a team from scratch. From a fistful of nobodies who had never really played. They were proud, as was Kippei.

Ann was already firing up the small projector and booting up the computer, the soft hum of technology louder than he soft breathing which as harsher than usual, the only sign of her excitement as she plugged the camera into the USB and patched it through to the projector. Kippei spent the short waiting period studying the bookcase of small tapes lining one wall, reading through the small labels only half-heartedly, pausing always on the shelf of tapes labelled `Ibu Shinji', fingers reaching to caress the small plastic spines as if they were the real thing and in a sense they were. They were the catalogue of memories of the time Kippei had spent with Shinji, minus what happened behind doors, each tape a bookmark of the hours in the day he enjoyed most.

"Ready?"

Kippei moved over to the bed immediately, pulling the thick notebook out from under Ann's mattress and lying down to watch the wall, pen already at the ready as Ann hit play and raced over to lie next to him.

The wall came to life with the familiar scene of Fudomine's rather rundown courts, a cat running across the bottom of the screen. Ann chased it for a moment before the camera focussed on the court again, and in particular on Mori and Ishida who were playing against Uchimura and Sakurai. They were interesting combinations, but that didn't mean they worked.

"Uchimura and Sakurai don't really work together. They could win, but they have no synch, and Sakurai isn't fast enough to deal with Uchimura's net play," Ann noted and Kippei agreed, scribbling down his own notes based on the pair. Uchimura was interesting, and his abilities were improving daily. The more he played the closer he stuck to the net and it was become quickly apparent that in the right doubles pair he would be a deadly effective player. You just needed someone with the speed to back him up on the rest of the court.

"He could go well with Akira," Ann noted. "He has the speed."

"But not the concentration, or the temperament to stay in the background while Uchimura steals the show," Kippei noted and it went back and forth between them until Ann wheedled what he wanted to try next from him. Not that it was unexpected. Ishida was strong, but again not light enough on his feet and Kippei saw dangers to several of his tennis techniques in the long term situation. No, the player who would match Uchimura and create a doubles one pair for them was Mori. Strong but fast, a wicked sense of the back half of the court and a deviousness that matched Uchimura was exactly what was needed.

Ann seemed incapable of keeping the smirk off her face as Mori slammed a ball straight at Sakurai and won the game. They both knew Kippei was right about the doubles.

The video chased another cat and Kippei raised an amused brow at Ann who merely blushed and pointed to the screen as the camera refocussed on Shinji and Kamio in the background. Kippei had been watching the doubles match and had trusted the others to play between themselves, but by the excitement humming through Ann's body he had a feeling he should have turned around to see what was happening behind him.

"Kamio is getting faster," Ann noted and Kippei agreed. Every day Kamio's speed increased, as did his awareness of the court and the fastest way to get from point A to point B. His accuracy was likewise improving and…

Kippei frowned at the screen and Ann just smirked. Shinji was standing stock still in the middle of the court, staring at his racket as if it were a snake about to bite him, the ball having gone straight past him, Kamio yelling at him from across the net. He watched as Shinji slowly recovered and Kamio served again, the rally repeated itself, almost identical to the previous rally and Kippei thought it must have been a fluke until Shinji, at the exact same point, simply dropped his arms and let the ball go past him. Kamio was fuming again, waving his arms and racket in the air, demanding an explanation but Shinji just stared at his racket, absorbed by it, and refused to play again.

"Rewind it," Kippei ordered and Ann hopped off the bed to replay the two matches. He watched the way Shinji ran, the way he hit the ball, everything. Twice. It was identical each time.

"Again." Ann was watching him, curious, but he didn't care. He almost had it as he watched the play over and over, writing notes on the angle of the racket, the type of hit, the spin on the ball. When he had watched it through three more times he stared at the page, reading through his notes until it struck him that he was looking too hard. He pulled back from the book and stared at the pattern right there on the page.

"Oh god…" Kippei stared at the screen as Ann paused it on a still of Shinji still standing there, staring at the damn racket, Kamio midway through jumping over the net to yell at him some more.

Ann looked over his shoulder at his notes, frowning.

"I don't get it. I figured you would understand, but when I watched it I didn't really understand why he wouldn't play. He did it on purpose both times right? If he does this pattern, what happens?"

Kippei just nodded, reaching out as if to caress the wall, a smirk twisting his lips that matched the one Shinji had given him before leaving that afternoon. He wondered if Shinji realised the enormity of what he had done, or if it was just another little trick Shinji had wanted to try. Had he done it by accident the first time? Most importantly, Kippei wanted to know how he'd done it. What did Shinji see when he played tennis that he could become such a monster. And how cruel was he to even try it?

"It's a spot technique that requires perfect accuracy in every shot of the rally. Continuously played like this it would eventually numb your arm for a few seconds. You would swing the racket and then feel nothing. It would be impossible to hit the ball back with anything even mildly resembling accuracy, if you could hit it back at all."

Ann stared at him, mouth slightly ajar before she snatched the book from his hands and began flicking through the pages, studying the endless reams of notes he had made on Shinji's play.

"You haven't mentioned anything about it before!"

"He's never done it before," Kippei whispered, and that was the truly horrid thing about it. Shinji's tennis sense had to be beyond his comprehension; had to rival the rumours he had heard of Seigaku's Tensai Fuji Syuusuke. Only Shinji was meaner in his use of that sense and Kippei could understand why. Shinji had learnt to use tennis as he used anything else; as a tool to protect himself from the world that demanded he lose. It was going to be a very interesting tournament.

"Shinji…is not normal," Ann noted, a hint of amusement in her voice, and Kippei could not agree more. He had never really like normal, anyway.

He had strange dreams that night and they plagued his thoughts through school until he was finally able to reach the courts and initiate the new line-up he wanted to try, Ann following the team with the camera, leaving Kippei free to do what he needed.

He snagged Kamio as he and Shinji were walking onto the court, pulling him back and asking him to take notes on the doubles game while he worked with Shinji. Kamio gave him an odd look but in the end just shrugged and wandered off to take the notes.

Shinji was startled, but not surprised. His gaze narrowed and Kippei could see his lips moving as he mumbled under his breath. Kippei doubted they were nice things but it didn't matter. On the court he was the Captain and nothing more, nor anything less and they both knew it, and Shinji would do as he said.

"Don't hold back, Shinji. Show me how it works."

Shinji continued to mumble, but moved into position as Kippei moved to the back of the court to serve, watching as the lips finally stilled when he served, then eyeing the ball, hoping Ann was taping because he had a feeling he would want to see this. Again and again.

The ball was returned easily. Too easily. It had not been that easy last week, and it merely affirmed to him the speed at which all of them were improving. It was unheard of, but he didn't let it stun him, returning the ball and watching Shinji catch it again. Easily. It came back and he felt a slight unease enter his body as he once again hit it into Shinji's half of the court, and again, and again, and again, and finally it came and Shinji didn't hesitate, merely hit it and then stood there, perfectly still, waiting, as Kippei raced for the ball, swung his racket, and his heart skipped a beat.

The racket slipped from lax fingers, skidding across the court, the sound of it shocking the others enough that they paused in their game and all turned to see what was happening. Kippei saw the recognition on Kamio's face from the corner of his eye as he walked over to pick up the racket before moving around the other side of the court to stand in front of Shinji.

"Knew you shouldn't have done that, just because he said you had to doesn't mean you have to listen to him, even if he is Buchou, that was a stupid thing to do, don't know why you did it, you shouldn't have even tried it yesterday, just because you were bored and Akira was annoying you by running all over the place like that and you could see him using his muscles too much doesn't mean jack and you know it. You could have hurt someone…"

Kippei gently took the racket from Shinji's hand and put it down on the court with his own before he reached out and slipped a hand behind Shinji's head, pulling him closer, letting his fingers slide into the dark, silky strands of hair and forcing Shinji to meet his gaze. The mumbling trailed off to nothing as Shinji waited, weighing and judging, as always.

"You're a monster, Ibu Shinji," Kippei said very seriously, making sure the words hit home, and he saw the moment they almost hurt and leapt in before they could. "My monster of Fudomine." It was the emphasis he placed on `my' that won him the recognition from Shinji, as he had known it would. Hopefully always. Shinji just nodded, shifting to remove himself from Kippei's grasp by trailing his arm across the front of Kippei's shirt, sending a shiver through Kippei's bones.

"Alright, I want Kamio and Ibu against Mori and Uchimura! Sakurai and Ishida on the singles court!" They followed his orders quickly and brilliantly and he didn't see the spot again that day, or the one after that, but it was there, lurking under the surface, just waiting for the right day while the rest of Shinji's tennis quickly reached the same standard.

It was three days before the first big match of the season. Kippei was nervous as hell and trying his best not to show it. Ann was almost hyperventilating with excitement as she raced from one side of the court to the other with her camera, trying to gather as much data as she could at the last minute. The players were nervous, but in a good way, humming with the energy, ready to prove themselves. They had worked hard, to get to where they were.

Shinji was shaky, but it didn't surprise Kippei. He had researched the teams and revealed who they would have to play if they faced each particular team and they all knew at some point they would be facing Seigaku if they wanted to win, which they did, and so Shinji would be facing Fuji. The prodigy from hell. Shinji hadn't seemed to mind, but he had asked about the freshman they suspected would be playing in doubles. They didn't know much, just that he had a twist serve to die for. Shinji's tennis had been shaky since that. It was making Kippei more nervous, because it wasn't the normal kind of shakiness, rather the sort that meant Shinji was curious about something and trying to hide it.

Kippei had no choice but to pair Shinji with Kamio. If he decided to try something new Kamio was the only one who might actually get out of the way in time. Kippei's fears seemed unfounded for most of the training session and he was getting ready to call a stop when there was a loud yell, the sound of joggers skidding on the court and then the familiar sound of the ball hitting the fence. Kippei spun round to see Akira several paces away from where the ball must have landed, glaring at Shinji, and Shinji staring once again at his racket.

"…Ace…" Ann called, voice shaking a little and Kippei raised a brow as Shinji pulled another ball from his pocket, stared at it for a full minute and then just shrugged and served.

The ball slammed into the court, spun and rebounded straight at Kamio's face, who yelled again and barely managed to rave out of the way. He started yelling at Shinji immediately, but Shinji wasn't paying him any attention as he looked over at his captain.

Kippei smiled, a slow, dark and dangerous thing that matched Shinji's current mood. Whoever had mentioned Echizen's twist serve, Kippei could have kissed them because it had apparently interested Shinji enough to give it a go. It wasn't quite the same, probably not even as strong, but just as effective against the majority of players. He called an end to practice and waited as they all walked off the courts. Shinji, typically, brushed past him on his way to the change rooms and Kippei lifted his hand to trail his fingers across Shinji's cheekbone, into the long strands of hair, a brief congratulations as he whispered.

"My monster of Fudomine."

It wasn't until Shinji was gone from his sight that Kippei dared to walk over and pick up the two balls, holding one in each hand and just staring at them, weighing them, recalling how they had been made to move. He was fascinated by what Shinji could achieve, but he also knew Shinji had to be stopped, and soon. He was brilliant, his tennis sense gorgeous, but…

First Spot, then the Kick serve. Each of them violent techniques that could very easily injure anyone they were used against who didn't understand what they were, and with Shinji controlling them. With Shinji's temperament, with his cold-hearted detachment and desire to see others hurt as he was, Kippei feared what Shinji might come up with next.

He had to hold him back, let his mind recover before his tennis matured into something truly horrendous. A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked down at Ann, understanding her slight frown all too well. There was no time, so he just put it aside. He would start in four days. Shinji had three days to calm down on his own, and that was all.

The first match passed in a blur. They had gone to school before the tournament to warm up and headed over to the tournament as a team, signing in early and inspecting each of the locations they would be playing at, reviewing the teams they had to play. By the time they were on the court they had been awake for hours and were more than awake, ready to slaughter their opponents, which they did. Their doubles won in straight sets and Akira wiped them off the board. The next match went in a similar fashion, and then Kakinoki came up. The runner-ups from the year before with mouths like a pack of vipers. Kippei had studied them carefully and knew they would be simple to defeat. Seigaku, as he had predicted, was their only problem. So he let Shinji warm up against the Captain of Kakinoki; Kuki Kiichi.

The kick serve came out instantly, shocking everyone and Kippei most of all. He glanced at the look on the other team's faces and understood though. Shinji had something to prove and while Kippei wasn't sure what it was, he wasn't going to try and hold Shinji back. Wasn't sure he could at that stage. So he just sat and watched, like everyone else.

It was a simple match, in the end. But the taunting coming from the sidelines was giving the whole team a headache and Shinji was tense and cruel on the court. Kippei watched his lips, watching for the muttering, but there was none and it was enough of a sign to tell Kippei what sort of mood Shinji was in. He didn't like this guy at all. Wanted to crush him and was doing a damned good job of it.

It wasn't until the last shot of the match that the Spot technique made its debut, knocking Kuki to his knees, a shuddering, quaking wreck as he stared at his hand which Kippei assumed was still slightly numb. Shinji stood there, waiting for what was to come.

"This isn't possible, they're not this strong a team!"

Kippei knew it was not the best thing Kuki could have thought to say as Shinji walked slowly around the net, completely silent, and over to his defeated opponent. Kippei assumed he was just going to force Kuki to shake hands, as he was obligated to do, until Shinji's racket raised and the way it swung, the way the wrist shifted like a snake of some kind was too familiar to Kippei.

"Stop Shinji!" Kippei bellowed as the racket came down and Kuki whimpered loudly. The racket stopped barely an inch from his face and Kippei breathed out in relief short-lived as Shinji leant down and whispered something in Kuki's ear that only the two of them could hear before walking over to Kamio, who was holding Shinji's jacket out warily, not saying a word.

Kippei sent the rest of the team off to one of the small resting areas, dragging Shinji off to the public bathrooms, nervous as hell about the match coming up against Seigaku. If that was what Shinji was like against Kakinoki what would he be like against Fuji? He didn't want to think about it but knew he had to. He had to stop Shinji now; had to stall him somehow.

"Shinji…What the hell are you thinking out there?" He pushed Shinji into one of the cubicles and locked the door, pushing Shinji up against the hard plank of wood, a hand to either side of his slightly surprised face as they glared at one another.

"He deserved it."

Kippei just continued to glare, playing Shinji's game, waiting, weighing, judging and trying to think of something he could offer to replace the rage. To replace the feeling of worthlessness.

He pulled his weight back onto his feet, out of his hands as he leaned closer, until they were nose to nose and his nose pressed hard into Shinji's, breath mingling as he pushed even closer, running one hand down Shinji's chest, using the other to hold him still, to give him some kind of reassurance that it wouldn't hurt and to make sure he wouldn't bolt.

"Kippei…" Shinji's breath hitched and he blinked, glare turning into a nervous stare as he looked down to watch Kippei's hand slide down his chest, and down into his shorts before it rubbed against the outside of his boxers.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop," Kippei breathed, leaning forward to claim Shinji's lips, forcing him to think about what he wanted before he replied and when he pulled back Shinji didn't say anything, just wrapped long, slender arms around his neck and hid his face in Kippei's shoulder as he pushed his groin harder against the palm of Kippei's hand.

Kippei shuddered as he lifted his hand only long enough to slide it back down, this time on the other side of Shinji's boxers, pushing him harder into the door for support for the both of them as he pushed one thigh between Shinji's legs and rubbed himself against Shinji's hip, wishing he had thought to do this three days ago and not a few scant hours before their match against Seigaku.

Shinji's breathing sped up and Kippei could feel his pulse pumping through every inch of his body as he rubbed his hand over the slowly hardening skin in his hand, memorising the way it stretched, shifted and grew to fit his fist as he palmed it to life until at last he could wrap his hand about it, all the while feeling his own pleasure grow as he humped against Shinji's hip.

The arms about his neck tightened and Shinji shifted, pushing his hips forward, gasping loudly as Kippei's thumb slid behind his sack and grazed the sensitive patch of skin behind. Kippei looked down into glazed eyes as Shinji's head rocked back, smacking against the door, fingers pressing painfully into Kippei's shoulders. Studying him carefully, Kippei rubbed his thumb over the place again, scratching a little and listened to the soft, low-key moan that whined past Shinji's lips, leaning down to claim them as he did it again.

He wished there was more time, to learn Shinji's body properly, to take it slowly like he wanted, to do more like he had dreamed, but there was no time and there was only what they had, so Kippei grazed himself faster over Shinji's hip until Shinji groaned and stiffened for a moment, sticky wetness pooling over Kippei's hand before Shinji sagged between Kippei's grip and the door.

Kippei rubbed himself harder against Shinji's hip one more time before he let himself let go, forcing his limbs to stay upright and support them both as he felt warm liquid pool against his boxers and smear over his thigh, and he blushed when he realised he liked it. Loved the weight of Shinji in his arms, of the stickiness of it all and the heat slowly cooling in both their bodies. But most of all he loved the way Shinji finally looked at him, just for the hell of it, with a small, lazy smile. No waiting, no weighing, no judging. Just the two of them.

"You're my monster, Shinji, and out there I'm in charge. Remember that."

"I'll remember," Shinji whispered, voice thin and barely there, but Kippei heard it.

It took them a while to get their breathing under control and to finally leave the toilets. Kippei couldn't wipe the smirk off his face the whole way. Not only because he had enjoyed it, nor even because he had finally had a way to stall Shinji's progress, however roundabout and unorthodox it was. It wasn't even because he was now confident Shinji was his. Rather, he smirked because they had left both their boxers in the toilet bin and would now face Seigaku with no underwear.

There was just something terribly satisfying about sitting across from Tezuka Kunimitsu with no underwear.