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sarisiaI can hardly breath because my nose is so clogged, and I've been sneezing every five minutes. And if I'm developing allergies now well, that just totally sucks. But, no, what's cool is that it's Spring Break and I'm out of school. And even though I have book reports and tests to study for still and despite the fact that I seem to be coming down with some sort of cold, Spring Break means that I don't have to wake up early for a whole week.
Oh, yeah. And having finally reached episode 75 of Prince of Tennis.... I simply must say that the "It's a Date!" episode (72, I think) is the most giggle-worthy episode yet! Kaidoh's panic-induced pacing is the cutest thing ever. [But what's best of all is that I've found a green bandanna in my closet to match Kaidoh's. It's the complete bomb.]
Title: Knowledge Without Power, Love Without
Fandom: Tenipuri/Prince of Tennis
Couple: Inui/Kaidoh
Genre: Angst, Recovery
Rating: PG or PG-13ish
Summary: Kaidoh's fall and recovery.
The very minute he'd spotted Inui chatting all-too-amiably with another student from his class, Kaidoh supposed he should have seen it coming, should have expected Inui-sempai to approach him, adjusting his glasses nervously and clearing his throat before speaking.
The day had been going so well, too. Kaidoh'd won twice against Momoshiro and received a firm nod of approval from the captain - a testament to his fine training under Inui's watchful eyes. His English test had come back with a higher grade than the norm - another thing he could attribute to Inui-sempai's presence in his life.
But now, Inui's voice had gone soft, though it still retained the deep reverberations of normal conversation, as if he were simply giving Kaidoh advice or asking Kaidoh to meet him at the tennis courts at some later date. It was not the same voice that had been whispering hot, wanton things into his ear (against his throat, along the line of his ribs) for the past three months.
"Do you like me, Kaidoh?" he had asked and Kaidoh was still standing in front of him, unresponsive.
It wasn't because Kaidoh was an antisocial person, or even inexpressive. Kaidoh couldn't respond. Not to that. Not here, on the school grounds where the rest of the tennis club were just a few strides away, packing up their rackets and putting away the tennis balls with curiosity plainly written on their faces. Not when Fuji, Ryoma, and even Tezuka were waiting for his answer just as expectantly as Inui was.
Not when the answer should have been obvious to a man who collected data on everything he saw.
The pressure Kaidoh felt weighing on his shoulders left him in a rush. "Don't you know already, Inui-sempai?"
His eyes darted to the courts, flashing dangerously at Momoshiro, who looked to be on the verge of laughter, and while Inui looked over his shoulder to see what he had glanced at, Kaidoh made his escape without saying goodbye. By the time, Inui responded to the sound of Kaidoh's shoes scraping against the ground, the Viper had already disappeared into the dressing rooms.
A quick look in the mirror near the showers let Kaidoh know that he wasn't blushing. (At last, a time when his body actually did what he wanted it to instead of betraying itself and everything Kaidoh felt to the world at large.) Inside, he was seething. He rushed into his school uniform as quickly as possible because he knew that Inui would give chase. Their conversation hadn't been finished and wouldn't be until Inui was satisfied with the conclusion. He finished buttoning his shirt just as Inui rounded the lockers.
"Maybe I owe you an apology," Inui offered, hands buried in his pockets.
Yes, you do, hissed Kaidoh inside his own mind, where his venom could be spat in whichever direction he pleased. Apologize now for leaving me for someone else!
Outwardly, Kaidoh stayed silent and zipped his gym bag closed, slinging it over his shoulder. He didn't move to brush past Inui-sempai. He didn't slam his locker door. He didn't say anything. What was the use in arguing when Inui had already set his sights on someone else, someone more interesting and less predictable than a snake? The same someone, perhaps, that Kaidoh had seen watching their tennis matches from the sidelines for the past week?
His hand slipped through his hair. Now that the bandanna was no longer covering it, his entire head felt lighter and strange. Kaidoh closed his eyes. He shouldn't be talking about this on school grounds. If a teacher came in, if he overheard, both of them would be expelled in a heartbeat. And some things were meant to be private, after all. What could Inui-sempai have possibly thought he would gain from asking about such a personal matter in such an open area, where everyone was watching?
"Speak to me, Kaidoh," Inui said - maybe pleading. "I can never tell what you're thinking." When Kaidoh blinked at him in disbelief, Inui gave him a soft smile that was maybe-regretful, maybe-resigned. "Surprise."
"Aa," Kaidoh agreed. "Surprise." It was because Inui had spoken and broken the silence between them that finally made Kaidoh move. He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder, shifted his weight from one leg and then the other. "Did I bore you, Inui-sempai?"
The question slipped from his lips without warning. He ducked to hide his face immediately after, already feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. He could hear Inui shifting too now, uncomfortable, and he could hear Inui's hands flexing, itching for a pencil so that he could record this new information. It wasn't everyday that Kaidoh revealed that he was as insecure as any other student in the Seigaku high school.
"No," Inui assured him in a breath and reached out to touch Kaidoh's cheek, brush his fingertips across the sharp cheekbone. "You could never bore me, Kaidoh. It's just..."
Kaidoh, who had been leaning into the light touches, now jerked away with the last two words. "Aa," he said again. "I get it. It's fine." When he excused himself, he was careful not to touch Inui when he walked past.
Inui called after him just when he reached the door. "Kaoru! I did love you."
His reply was not what he wished it would be. His "I loved you too, Sadaharu," couldn't make it past his heart. It stuck in his chest and wouldn't go any further. The effort it took just to push away the pain of it forced him to pause in the doorway, but it wasn't enough to still his voice altogether. He nodded, too stiffly to be natural, and said, "Aa. I got that too, Inui-sempai. I'll see you around."
He didn't make a big scene about it, though it was obvious from the way everyone had stopped just to watch as he crossed the courts to Tezuka. He asked if it was alright for him not show up to tomorrow's practice, and agreed to Tezuka's deal of doing seventy-five laps in exchange for his absence. He tipped his head gratefully in the captain's direction before leaving. Fifty laps, let alone seventy-five, would keep him occupied for the entire practice, giving him a second practice period to avoid Inui.
He passed another teenager on his way out. The Other One. Watanabe Satori. The one who had stepped into Inui's life so easily and snatched his attention as securely as nothing but the most interesting of people could. He slowed for a second as he jogged past and sensed, more than saw, Inui observing from a distance.
Kaidoh wanted to say something. Something snooty or mean, just to see the Watanabe from Inui's homeroom class get a bit ruffled. Wouldn't it just be the worst, Kaidoh thought, to realize that your soon-to-be-boyfriend's ex-boyfriend was not only a sophomore but that he also knew some of the most intimate details about said future boyfriend?
So... "Hi," he said. "His eyes are green."
It seemed like the most lame thing that he could have said, ever, but he was a little happy to see the other man stare at him in shock. His happiness was short-lived, however, because Watanabe bowed to him as he pushed himself off the wall and smiled so brightly and so cheerfully that Kaidoh couldn't bear it.
And what was worse was Watanabe's answer (whispered in that secretive manner that only gossiping girls did when they were sharing things that were never supposed to be shared): "I know."
For all of a minute, Kaidoh felt resigned. "Aa. Good luck, then."
..........
He still played doubles with Inui, sometimes, though he'd long ago mastered his Boomerang Snake and resumed his singles games. At the oddest moments, he would turn and catch Inui watching him from the baseline, green eyes carefully masked behind glasses, but he would end up continuing the turn or stopping too soon so that Inui was never completely within his sights but still in the peripheral. It took him months before he was able to walk anywhere without immediately noticing Inui's presence. It took less time for the memories to begin to blur, though the memory of the way Inui had made him feel and react still remained. He could bring the sensations forward, if he chose, and he never did.
His tennis skills did not whither with the end of their relationship. He wondered if he should be worried by that, but then he remembered that he tended to tune everything out when he was playing tennis, from the cheering crowd to the referee, from the eyes of his team mates to the weather. He always ended up playing tennis, anyway, when he felt he needed the distraction.
A few times already, he'd hissed at Momoshiro and jerked his head in the direction of the courts. "Let's play. I'll kick your ass."
At first, Momoshiro had narrowed his eyes at him and refused, but a few well-placed challenges and barbs had Momo yelling insults at him from across the net. It was relaxing. Even if he spent that time shouting back and despite the times he lost, he always, always felt better afterward, and he knew that Momoshiro wasn't stupid enough (no matter the evidence to the contrary) to not realize what the games were for.
So, time was passing. And Kaidoh was moving, still. And Inui and Watanabe seemed content to be together.
It was only at the turn from spring to summer, when training exercises ended and tournament season began, that Kaidoh finally found the nerve to ask Inui-sempai for a game - his last one during training. Though Inui raised a brow at him in curiosity, there was no hesitancy as he crossed to the opposite side of the net and raised his racket.
Kaidoh served. A part of him felt that it was the best game he'd played all spring. No matter how much data Inui had on him, he was still able to return the volley, even when Inui shot them toward the left side of the courts, his weakest side. He slid from one side to another with a speed he couldn't remember having. No acrobatics like Kikumaru, but somehow, stretching his body - to reach a chance ball or to return a shot that went too sharply to the side - was easier.
The best part of it all, though, was hearing Inui's silence throughout the game. Normally, there would be small mutterings: "Cross-shot. Sixty-eight percent," or "Snake. Eighty-three percent." Silence meant that Inui was being forced to play against someone he had no data on, and that thought drew a pleasant hiss from between his lips.
He won. Six games to four.
Inui met him at the net, and a proud smile was on his sempai's face. "Your strategies have changed, Kaidoh. I hardly know who I'm playing against anymore."
"Aa," Kaidoh agreed. "Maybe that's best." He threw a smirk over his shoulder as he turned away. He tucked his racket under his arm. "Well, then. Bye, Inui-sempai."
Oh, yeah. And having finally reached episode 75 of Prince of Tennis.... I simply must say that the "It's a Date!" episode (72, I think) is the most giggle-worthy episode yet! Kaidoh's panic-induced pacing is the cutest thing ever. [But what's best of all is that I've found a green bandanna in my closet to match Kaidoh's. It's the complete bomb.]
Title: Knowledge Without Power, Love Without
Fandom: Tenipuri/Prince of Tennis
Couple: Inui/Kaidoh
Genre: Angst, Recovery
Rating: PG or PG-13ish
Summary: Kaidoh's fall and recovery.
The very minute he'd spotted Inui chatting all-too-amiably with another student from his class, Kaidoh supposed he should have seen it coming, should have expected Inui-sempai to approach him, adjusting his glasses nervously and clearing his throat before speaking.
The day had been going so well, too. Kaidoh'd won twice against Momoshiro and received a firm nod of approval from the captain - a testament to his fine training under Inui's watchful eyes. His English test had come back with a higher grade than the norm - another thing he could attribute to Inui-sempai's presence in his life.
But now, Inui's voice had gone soft, though it still retained the deep reverberations of normal conversation, as if he were simply giving Kaidoh advice or asking Kaidoh to meet him at the tennis courts at some later date. It was not the same voice that had been whispering hot, wanton things into his ear (against his throat, along the line of his ribs) for the past three months.
"Do you like me, Kaidoh?" he had asked and Kaidoh was still standing in front of him, unresponsive.
It wasn't because Kaidoh was an antisocial person, or even inexpressive. Kaidoh couldn't respond. Not to that. Not here, on the school grounds where the rest of the tennis club were just a few strides away, packing up their rackets and putting away the tennis balls with curiosity plainly written on their faces. Not when Fuji, Ryoma, and even Tezuka were waiting for his answer just as expectantly as Inui was.
Not when the answer should have been obvious to a man who collected data on everything he saw.
The pressure Kaidoh felt weighing on his shoulders left him in a rush. "Don't you know already, Inui-sempai?"
His eyes darted to the courts, flashing dangerously at Momoshiro, who looked to be on the verge of laughter, and while Inui looked over his shoulder to see what he had glanced at, Kaidoh made his escape without saying goodbye. By the time, Inui responded to the sound of Kaidoh's shoes scraping against the ground, the Viper had already disappeared into the dressing rooms.
A quick look in the mirror near the showers let Kaidoh know that he wasn't blushing. (At last, a time when his body actually did what he wanted it to instead of betraying itself and everything Kaidoh felt to the world at large.) Inside, he was seething. He rushed into his school uniform as quickly as possible because he knew that Inui would give chase. Their conversation hadn't been finished and wouldn't be until Inui was satisfied with the conclusion. He finished buttoning his shirt just as Inui rounded the lockers.
"Maybe I owe you an apology," Inui offered, hands buried in his pockets.
Yes, you do, hissed Kaidoh inside his own mind, where his venom could be spat in whichever direction he pleased. Apologize now for leaving me for someone else!
Outwardly, Kaidoh stayed silent and zipped his gym bag closed, slinging it over his shoulder. He didn't move to brush past Inui-sempai. He didn't slam his locker door. He didn't say anything. What was the use in arguing when Inui had already set his sights on someone else, someone more interesting and less predictable than a snake? The same someone, perhaps, that Kaidoh had seen watching their tennis matches from the sidelines for the past week?
His hand slipped through his hair. Now that the bandanna was no longer covering it, his entire head felt lighter and strange. Kaidoh closed his eyes. He shouldn't be talking about this on school grounds. If a teacher came in, if he overheard, both of them would be expelled in a heartbeat. And some things were meant to be private, after all. What could Inui-sempai have possibly thought he would gain from asking about such a personal matter in such an open area, where everyone was watching?
"Speak to me, Kaidoh," Inui said - maybe pleading. "I can never tell what you're thinking." When Kaidoh blinked at him in disbelief, Inui gave him a soft smile that was maybe-regretful, maybe-resigned. "Surprise."
"Aa," Kaidoh agreed. "Surprise." It was because Inui had spoken and broken the silence between them that finally made Kaidoh move. He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder, shifted his weight from one leg and then the other. "Did I bore you, Inui-sempai?"
The question slipped from his lips without warning. He ducked to hide his face immediately after, already feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. He could hear Inui shifting too now, uncomfortable, and he could hear Inui's hands flexing, itching for a pencil so that he could record this new information. It wasn't everyday that Kaidoh revealed that he was as insecure as any other student in the Seigaku high school.
"No," Inui assured him in a breath and reached out to touch Kaidoh's cheek, brush his fingertips across the sharp cheekbone. "You could never bore me, Kaidoh. It's just..."
Kaidoh, who had been leaning into the light touches, now jerked away with the last two words. "Aa," he said again. "I get it. It's fine." When he excused himself, he was careful not to touch Inui when he walked past.
Inui called after him just when he reached the door. "Kaoru! I did love you."
His reply was not what he wished it would be. His "I loved you too, Sadaharu," couldn't make it past his heart. It stuck in his chest and wouldn't go any further. The effort it took just to push away the pain of it forced him to pause in the doorway, but it wasn't enough to still his voice altogether. He nodded, too stiffly to be natural, and said, "Aa. I got that too, Inui-sempai. I'll see you around."
He didn't make a big scene about it, though it was obvious from the way everyone had stopped just to watch as he crossed the courts to Tezuka. He asked if it was alright for him not show up to tomorrow's practice, and agreed to Tezuka's deal of doing seventy-five laps in exchange for his absence. He tipped his head gratefully in the captain's direction before leaving. Fifty laps, let alone seventy-five, would keep him occupied for the entire practice, giving him a second practice period to avoid Inui.
He passed another teenager on his way out. The Other One. Watanabe Satori. The one who had stepped into Inui's life so easily and snatched his attention as securely as nothing but the most interesting of people could. He slowed for a second as he jogged past and sensed, more than saw, Inui observing from a distance.
Kaidoh wanted to say something. Something snooty or mean, just to see the Watanabe from Inui's homeroom class get a bit ruffled. Wouldn't it just be the worst, Kaidoh thought, to realize that your soon-to-be-boyfriend's ex-boyfriend was not only a sophomore but that he also knew some of the most intimate details about said future boyfriend?
So... "Hi," he said. "His eyes are green."
It seemed like the most lame thing that he could have said, ever, but he was a little happy to see the other man stare at him in shock. His happiness was short-lived, however, because Watanabe bowed to him as he pushed himself off the wall and smiled so brightly and so cheerfully that Kaidoh couldn't bear it.
And what was worse was Watanabe's answer (whispered in that secretive manner that only gossiping girls did when they were sharing things that were never supposed to be shared): "I know."
For all of a minute, Kaidoh felt resigned. "Aa. Good luck, then."
..........
He still played doubles with Inui, sometimes, though he'd long ago mastered his Boomerang Snake and resumed his singles games. At the oddest moments, he would turn and catch Inui watching him from the baseline, green eyes carefully masked behind glasses, but he would end up continuing the turn or stopping too soon so that Inui was never completely within his sights but still in the peripheral. It took him months before he was able to walk anywhere without immediately noticing Inui's presence. It took less time for the memories to begin to blur, though the memory of the way Inui had made him feel and react still remained. He could bring the sensations forward, if he chose, and he never did.
His tennis skills did not whither with the end of their relationship. He wondered if he should be worried by that, but then he remembered that he tended to tune everything out when he was playing tennis, from the cheering crowd to the referee, from the eyes of his team mates to the weather. He always ended up playing tennis, anyway, when he felt he needed the distraction.
A few times already, he'd hissed at Momoshiro and jerked his head in the direction of the courts. "Let's play. I'll kick your ass."
At first, Momoshiro had narrowed his eyes at him and refused, but a few well-placed challenges and barbs had Momo yelling insults at him from across the net. It was relaxing. Even if he spent that time shouting back and despite the times he lost, he always, always felt better afterward, and he knew that Momoshiro wasn't stupid enough (no matter the evidence to the contrary) to not realize what the games were for.
So, time was passing. And Kaidoh was moving, still. And Inui and Watanabe seemed content to be together.
It was only at the turn from spring to summer, when training exercises ended and tournament season began, that Kaidoh finally found the nerve to ask Inui-sempai for a game - his last one during training. Though Inui raised a brow at him in curiosity, there was no hesitancy as he crossed to the opposite side of the net and raised his racket.
Kaidoh served. A part of him felt that it was the best game he'd played all spring. No matter how much data Inui had on him, he was still able to return the volley, even when Inui shot them toward the left side of the courts, his weakest side. He slid from one side to another with a speed he couldn't remember having. No acrobatics like Kikumaru, but somehow, stretching his body - to reach a chance ball or to return a shot that went too sharply to the side - was easier.
The best part of it all, though, was hearing Inui's silence throughout the game. Normally, there would be small mutterings: "Cross-shot. Sixty-eight percent," or "Snake. Eighty-three percent." Silence meant that Inui was being forced to play against someone he had no data on, and that thought drew a pleasant hiss from between his lips.
He won. Six games to four.
Inui met him at the net, and a proud smile was on his sempai's face. "Your strategies have changed, Kaidoh. I hardly know who I'm playing against anymore."
"Aa," Kaidoh agreed. "Maybe that's best." He threw a smirk over his shoulder as he turned away. He tucked his racket under his arm. "Well, then. Bye, Inui-sempai."
