Love set

It happens on a normal day of practice right after winter holiday. No one really notices, except the two most observant people on earth. Something in the air hums with a renewed intensity, foretelling a story of unexpected intimacy, as if with just these words they can blur all the lines between them.

"Buchou, will you play a match against me?"

And the clock ticks again, the sounds rush in and their breath returns. The answer, the only response possible in this sort of situation, lies bare at their feet.

Then everything goes back to normal. The regulars play practice matches, while the non-regulars do their stretches and pick up the stray balls lying around.

On court B, a certain tensai who witnesses, grins knowingly at their buchou. Tezuka doesn't look like he has noticed anything. A perfect no touch ace goes straight past Fuji, who opens his eyes for a second, just to close them back the next.

Tezuka takes the set 7-5. Inui murmurs, "Ii data," and jots quick notes for further reference. He even forgets about his Inui Jiru New Deluxe prepared especially for that practice.

Other matches come to an end. Oishi wins his match with Momoshiro; Kaidoh has overpowered Taka, while Echizen dashed through his match with the same easiness. It's a good practice, thinks Tezuka, until Momoshiro stumbles on a lying racket, bumping into Kaidoh who is knocked to the ground, and everything turns into a total chaos.

Tezuka silences everyone with 40 laps and heads to the school to attend a student council meeting.

After several hours, it's late and the others seem to have already left. He takes his shower in silence, trying not to think at the promise he'd made to his kohai. Truthfully, he's trying really hard to chase away all the thoughts concerning a certain white-capped 12-year-old boy.

As soon as he finishes, he packs his things into his bag with deft, calculated movements, then closes the door behind him. At the school gate a white material catches his eye. A very familiar silhouette appears before him.

"Buchou," is uttered in greeting by a voice too well known to leave any doubt.

"Echizen," he acknowledges.

"Are you free now?"Ryoma challenges with his smirk in place.

Tezuka takes a mental check of his assignments and homework, and inwardly sighs. He will have to wake up a few hours earlier to finish them. When did he begin to accede so readily to his kohai's bidding?

"Aa," it's all he can manage and surprisingly, it is enough to gain himself a genuine smile from Ryoma.

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Silence. Their road towards the courts is swallowed in silence. It is the good kind of nothingness, not littered with meaningless words. It is their only way to speak the things sounds cannot manage, the deepest depths of their souls. Only if it were possible to leave all their feelings in sight for the other to see!

It is a calm that surges from their whole being, surrounding them and just barely letting go.

No one would have guessed that they knew each other. No one would have guessed that they shared the same passion for tennis. Nothing can give away the fact that they are both eager and anticipate the match they will be playing together. Tennis. It is the sole language they are both fluent in. Every shot, every volley, will replace whole paragraphs.

When they arrive at the courts near the rail way, not a single word is uttered. They both know the event that took place here. It is present in every step, every gesture, and every thought. As they go to opposite sides of the court, it is like they are immersed in a reiterated ritual, passed down through generations. Once they go to the net, the logical thing will be to wish each other good luck; instead, they just stare. This is too important for them both. Golden eyes gaze into brown. One last glance into pools of confidence, a single one to trace features dear to both.

"You can serve,"a stern voice, deep and tinged with gentleness, offers.

Ryoma stares at him for a few moments, as if guessing a change, a crack in the inexpressive demeanor of his captain. He smiles a little, covering the redness of his face with his cap. His captain…He shakes his head, these thoughts are just insane, he thinks. After all he is his senpai, and the captain of Seigaku. What are these feelings? Every time he is in his captain's presence his heart rate will increase and he feels a knot in his throat.

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The first game is long and they don't feel the need to rush through things.

Ryoma shifts the racket from his left hand to his right, soars in the air and delivers his Twist Serve. Tezuka is already there returning it with equal intensity. They rally back and forth, giving their all, but at the same time not giving an inch. It's the only way they know. Once they start,it is like a frenzy settles in and no one can stop them anymore.

The second is much faster, fierce, like there is no tomorrow. And maybe there isn't for them.

With every ball cut by Tezuka, he pushes Ryoma higher, further, closer to the place where he is standing. In spite of giving up ground, Ryoma is also moving forward with every sprint; with every shot he is centimeters closer to the net. And though Tezuka has already managed to unleash his zone, he can't say for sure if he is still in the same spot he was in the beginning. He is forced to move along with Ryoma.

While all of Ryoma's balls are sucked in Tezuka Zone, Tezuka is two games ahead, sending Zero-Shiki drop shots, so angled that Ryoma barely has any choice other than to clash with the net. Where Ryoma Drive B fails to create a hole in the zone, Ryoma goes up and up in the air, turns and sends a Cyclone Smash blazing past Tezuka, only to be pulverized by Tezuka Phantom.

"As expected from buchou!"

In order to defeat the zone Ryoma knows that he has to put a subtle contrary rotation to the ball. He throws everything he has, Drive C and even Cool Drive. He wriggles his body and undercuts the ball with his backhand putting enough spin that it blasts through Tezuka, defusing his zone.

Such are they dragging out each other's potential, that when they pause to catch their breaths, they are panting, and this is only the first set. They sit on the bench so close to each other, their knees bump and their shoulder touch, but neither has the strength to move a muscle. They haven't played for a week, but they both were hungry for the other's tennis.

When they resume their play, Tezuka takes the first set 7-6, after a grueling tie break. In contrast, on the second set they both unleash their zones, and Ryoma overtakes it by 6-4. Yet the third set is the hardest to determine a winner. They ignore the pace of the game and go past their limits, and then beyond even them. Later, when neither of them can stand, they crumble on the court, two pillars drained of energy.

By the time Tezuka stands and heads to gather his things, Ryoma is lying boneless on the bench. Tezuka takes the seat next to him and drinks from his bottle, before passing it to the younger one. However, Ryoma has other plans. He leaps from his seat and stands in front of the older teen and leans down and rests their foreheads together.

"Buchou," he whispers. They stay like this for several moments looking at each other, drawing in the intensity of their gaze. And then he is gone. Everything lapses into silence, but the warmth remains.

Tezuka has to think if he hadn't dreamt all of it. His left hand is throbbing and aching, the only evidence left that this was real, that Ryoma had played against him, and suddenly he understands his feelings.

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At practice Ryoma ignores him, refuses to play matches against him, thus running countless laps. Tezuka narrows his eyes. He doesn't remember doing anything wrong. He is confused. Why is the boy acting so strange in his presence? Usually, it was he who would ask for matches, who would drag Tezuka to the nearest court just to play, and now he isn't even looking at him, doesn't even speak to him, not that they were very good at conversation, but still…It is unnerving to not know. He cannot avert his eyes from the boy anymore. His concentration has decreased by 3.5 percent Inui informs him.

The tension is tangible when he steps into the club room after practice to change. He feels as if he has abused his power as captain by assigning so many laps that the team has fallen apart at the seams at the end of practice. Oishi approaches him and asks him if he is all right. He pushes him aside murmuring a faint "Fine,"before heading to the showers. He feels the prick on his neck and knows that Ryoma is staring at him; he brushes the thought away as soon as it enters his mind. He has had enough of it already.

He spends almost an hour calming himself from all the strain accumulatedthrough the day. He sighs for the umpteenth time and wishes he hadn't been so affected by Ryoma. Despite trying so desperately to reign in his thoughts, they keep twirling back to his protégé over and over again. He tried everything that was in his power; he cornered him and commanded him in his buchou voice to tell him what he had done wrong, but much to his misfortune Ryoma had stubbornly kept his moth shut. He has run out of options. He has never felt so vulnerable in his life. And only Ryoma could have this effect on him.

He will forgive Ryoma for bringing him so close to insanity, because he loves him. Why is it so hard to tell him that?What has drawn him to Ryoma? Ryoma is arrogant, bratty, insufferably cocky and defiant. Ryoma is everything Tezuka is not. At the same time Ryoma is similar to him like any other. He has realized it only recently and it is too much for him to handle.

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It is after practice and Ryoma is reluctant to go home. He hits a tennis ball on the brick wall with so much intensity that his hands burn and his knees buckle from the pressure. He kept avoiding Tezuka for some unknown reason. Every time he was in the presence of the captain he would avert his eyes or become numb, not even able to say "madamadadane", which isn't right. Even Ponta tastes stale in his mouth, and Karupin hides from him, whenever he so much as bends to caress him between the ears.

Yesterday, when his buchou fell asleep on the bench in the club room, he padded on tip toes and sat near him and watched him sleep, unwinding the frown from his face, and he even kissed his forehead. What would have happened if Tezuka had woken up right at that moment? He would have been unable to explain what he was doing. Only thinking back does he blush furiously, like an infatuated girl. Wait, he has not just thought he is a girl, has he? Nah, impossible. Girls are always boring and annoying, with their long hair hanging around preventing them to play well. Like that girl with braids, what was her name again? As if he cares! Buchou is never annoying and never talks too much, he likes being in his presence, but not recently. Something is amiss with him. However he can't quite put a finger on it.

Buchou is always warm, and although he gets mad sometimes, he has never refused to play a match with him. Lately he is getting pissed off more often, and makes the team work twice as hard. He thinks he is at fault. He has disobeyed him by not playing with him in those stupid practice matches. The captain must hate me by now.Despite knowing this; he doesn't stop hemming a silent wall between them.

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The next morning, on Saturday, Ryoma is woken up by Karupin who jumps on his stomach. He is half asleep when his mother informs him he has a guest from his tennis club. He grudgingly agrees to leave his bed, and goes and brushes his teeth; he dresses slowly, stalling as long as possible, and then comes down to see who it is. After all, it's only 8:30 am. If it is Momo-senpai, he will go back to sleep. If it's Inui –senpai he will close the door in his face. The same goes for Fuji-senpai. Hard as he tries to guess who it is on the other side of the door; he will have never been even close.

He gapes. The wood is suddenly too cold. There in front of him is none other than Tezuka Kunimitsu. His heart starts beating at an abnormal rate, he can feel his face heating and his breath caught in his throat. What is buchou doing here? To some extend he can mask his surprise, though his eyes are wide with shock. Tezuka doesn't say anything;just stares at him from behind his glasses. His daze amplifies as one calloused hand grabs one of his and drags him out of his house.

"Come, "An apparently calm voice breathes.

He has no choice but to follow. He remembers always having to see broad shoulders who will guide him to his next goal, to a new path when he has lost his. He wants for once to walk side by side with this person, to feel as his equal for once. Yet, he feels compelled, mesmerized, devoid of will and quiet and submissive as he is led to his future.

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Tezuka stops only when he finds himself behind the safe door of his room. He has never done something so careless in his life. What was he thinking? Going to his kohai's house and kidnapping him, and now bringing him to his room! It is all wrong! He used to have more self-control, but of late everything has stopped functioning well for him. It all began when he fell in love. He feels like a teenager in the middle of an existence crisis. And maybe he is having a crisis, and maybe Ryoma will give him all the answers he seeks.

Ryoma takes in the room. He has been to Tezuka's house before, during the Junior Sembatsu, when he went as far as to beg Tezuka to let him play a match against Kevin. He had been lucky Tezuka understood him too well and allowed him to be the reserve. It happened months ago, but the memory is still vivid in his mind. The room looks exactly the same. Old, neat and clean. Not one of a teenager, more one of an old man.

"Have a seat," Tezuka finds himself suggesting, his respectfulness emerging just in time to save him from totally embarrassing himself.

Ryoma looks around and finally sits on the bed, looking at his feet as if there is something very important that needs his attention. He doesn't know what to say, and thus an uncomfortable silence settles between them. Why was I brought here? He doesn't know how they arrived in this sort of situation.

"Echizen," And the reality of the fact amazes him. Echizen is here in his room, sitting on his bed. "Why?"

Ryoma is startled by his captain's voice. He shyly looks up and meets soft eyes, calm, filled with affection. It's too late to avoid those earnest brown pools. He has never heard his captain talk so gentle and hushed, as if afraid to give away a secret entrusted to him. All the arguments to carry on with his stubbornness crumbled.

"Why what?" he exclaims and is astonished by how powerless his voice sounds.

Tezuka cannot believe his ears. Is Ryoma speaking to him again?

"Why have you been avoiding me?" Tezuka tries.

"Oh, that. Hmm…I wonder why?" It is definitely not the answer he has been awaiting.

"What do you mean by that? Have I done something wrong?" Tezuka mutters, almost desperate.

"No, no, you haven't. It's just….I don't understand it either." Ryoma whispers the last sentence, but Tezuka hears it anyway.

"Oh," Tezuka gives up all hopes.

"But, if it helps…it is not that I hate you. " Ryoma gives away his deepest thought.

A flare of hope burns in Tezuka's chest. Ryoma doesn't hate him. He thanks any deity for this tiny chance he is given.

"You don't?" Tezuka helplessly adds.

"No, I don't think it is that. Every time…Every time I am in your presence my heart beats really fast and my breath gets stuck in my throat. I don't think it is hate, it can't be…" Ryoma is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even notice that he has voiced them all.

"Ryoma…" Tezuka lets the word roll off his lips and he likes how it sounds.

"Bu-"Ryoma tries to utter, but is cut off when a pair of lips crush against his. He freezes. He has never experienced anything similar before. He is unable to move for a second, but when Tezuka brings him closer to his body, he surrenders completely to his Kunimitsu. He feels like a kite set free and carried on the wind's wings, to places unknown. Tezuka kisses him gently at first as if trying to take all his breath away. When a wet tongue is swiped across his lower lip, he gasps and opens his mouth to grant it access.

Tezuka has never tasted anything so sweet in his life. Ryoma's mouth tasted of oranges and grapes, a mixture so delicious mingled with the uniqueness of Ryoma. He wishes he will never let go. His tongue cannot cover all that intoxicating perfume, his mouth cannot consume more. Their tongues tangle, their eyes closed and Tezuka's glasses pressing into Ryoma and leaving traces that will not disappear so easily. Their kisses are ardent, passionate, telling stories of beginning, of first encounter, of so many years of restraint. It is the only way a heart knew how to speak to another heart. The language of love.

They eventually separate, in much need of air. However, they are both reluctant to let go. Ryoma has encircled his neck just to bring their foreheads closer. Tezuka has his arms tight around Ryoma's waist."Buchou…." Ryoma repeats like a mantra. And as if on common account they lock their lips together again. And again and again. After an hour, or maybe more, they are lying on the bed. Ryoma's head rests on Tezuka's chest, while Tezuka's hands are holding him firm, possessive.

"So what is this?" Ryoma demands in a sleepy voice.

"Love. I love you, Ryoma," Tezuka whispers, placing a kiss on Ryoma's dark locks.

"I love you too…" Ryoma agrees, thinking he really knows what love is.