Written for the "doubles" challenge on PillarChallenge. My inner Inui wants to title this Pair-Bonding Rituals, but I refuse to be that pretentious.
You wonder, sometimes, why it is that you have never seen Tezuka-buchou play doubles. Every other senpai on the Regular team has been paired up at some point, although only the Golden Pair and Inui-Kaidoh have lasted beyond a few matches. Doubles is most emphatically not your game, and you wonder whether partners on the court get in Tezuka-buchou's way as well. It's hard to imagine your captain tempering himself to another's style.
When Tezuka steps out onto a court, it becomes his. This, at least, you can understand; you're the same, after all. Too focused on the burn of the game, on pushing yourself as high as you can, to let anyone else drag you down.
Sometimes, though, you feel a stupid stir of jealousy when you watch the Golden Pair on-court. There is no doubt in your mind that there is more between them than tennis. It's the way their eyes linger, the way they smile for each other, and the way Eiji-senpai is always trying to drag Oishi-senpai behind the clubhouse after practice. You're not stupid, after all, and at fifteen you're long past confusion in any number of areas.
It seems so easy for them, you think; love or whatever they call it isn't far at all from the partnership and friendship that they have always had. You have to wonder if maybe that's what doubles does to people, if they keep it up long enough; it hasn't escaped your notice that Kaidoh-senpai blushes whenever Inui-senpai corners him with another training plan. He scowls as well, of course, and you find it hard not to laugh at that.
Watching the Golden Pair play makes you wonder what it would be like, to stand on that court with a person you love, to support each other and build something intricate and beautiful out of the game. You are who you are, though, and you have never needed support from anyone.
It doesn't matter, though, because when you step out onto the court (finally) and look up into Tezuka-buchou's eyes across the net� it feels like the world snaps into high colour. Your mouth twitches up into a grin of anticipation and you wonder whether you're imagining the smile that's hovering in the corners of Tezuka's mouth. Everything else fades into the background as you serve, and you are caught up in the thrill of the game.
Nothing in the world feels quite like playing a match against Tezuka-buchou; it's as though you and he are pushing each other, challenging each other, calling each other on. You have never faced another opponent who can knot breathlessness and need under your ribs as you stretch to reach a shot that has scraped the edge of your defences. It's as though his Zone play pulls you in as well, until you are orbiting each other, higher and faster and stronger, as close to perfection as you've ever experienced. It almost makes the waiting game you engage in off-court worthwhile, and you think that maybe the doubles players are the ones who should be jealous.
"Mada mada dane," you mouth with a smirk as your backspin slides the ball below his racquet. As always, you can hear the pre-regulars in the background complaining about your lack of respect for the captain, but Tezuka really is smiling now. After all, even if you don't acknowledge it, you both know that there is far more between you than simple respect. Maybe one day you might get around to doing something about that, too.