Tezuka sets his racquet bag down and looks around. The room is luxurious but fairly standard as far as hotel rooms go; possibly he has just become too used to this transient lifestyle. The bed looks like it will be too soft, but the time change is enough of a blow that he knows he will sleep like the dead. Outside the window the sun is bright.
The knock on the door manages to be both obtrusive and anticipatory. When Tezuka opens it he is unsurprised to see Ryoma already in tennis clothes.
"Let's go practice before the courts get too busy."
It's ten PM in Japan. Tezuka hesitates, but Ryoma is grinning up at him, looking far too sure of himself.
"Come on, buchou. Unless you want to test the bed�"
Tezuka has a momentary flash of Ryoma spread out and gasping beneath him, arching up into his hands. He turns away to pick up his bag before Ryoma can see it in his face. "It's far too early to sleep."
"Heh." Ryoma closes the door behind himself and leans against it, hands shoved into his pockets as he smirks. Tezuka eyes him for a moment, then sighs and begins unbuttoning his shirt to change.
Three days before the start of the tournament, the practice courts are crowded enough that they have to wait their turn. Ryoma scowls and mutters something about joining a private club for the season, but Tezuka sits patiently on the bench, stretching out his calf muscles. The players on the court are all good; he watches them carefully, knowing that he will be facing some of them over the next two weeks.
A blond-haired man approaches and asks Ryoma for a game. Ryoma looks him up and down with a frown, then glances at Tezuka and declines in lazy American English that sounds just a little out of place. When they are alone again, or as alone as a populated court can get, he leans back against the fence, crossing his arms.
"Che. I wish they wouldn't do that."
"You should play him," Tezuka observes quietly, turning his sweatband on his wrist. "It would be good experience � for both of you."
Ryoma makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, glancing at him sideways. "Why would I want to play him when you're here?"
Tezuka sighs, then gets to his feet as two players walk off the nearest court. Ryoma wanders after him, already tossing his racquet from hand to hand. He always dozes through long flights, curled up in his seat with his head drooping onto Tezuka's shoulder. Tezuka reads books and tennis magazines, and never mentions the jet-lag.
Ryoma bounces on his toes at the service line, grinning across the net. "Best of fifteen points, buchou?" There are people gathering at the fence to watch; the past year has made their faces recognisable.
"Aa." Ryoma has never given up calling him captain, Tezuka thinks. It sounds too intimate for public, but he never says anything.
There are murmurs from the fence as he serves � practice or not, Tezuka has never given Ryoma less than his best. This year they are on opposite sides of the draw; if they meet at all it will be at the final, and there are many strong players standing in the way. Tezuka is looking forward to the challenge, and he knows that Ryoma feels the same. There are high walls to climb before they can face each other, but that is far from new.
Seigaku Shake-Ups
Seishun Gakuen boys' club is adjusting to the presence of a first year on its Regular team. This month's ranking tournament caused a stir when twelve-year-old Echizen Ryoma fought his way to the top of Block D, beating second and third year Regulars Kaidoh Kaoru and Inui Sadaharu. Kaidoh-kun later beat Inui-kun to the second Regular slot in the block.
Under normal circumstances first years are not included in Seigaku's ranking tournaments. Coach Ryuuzaki Sumire refused to comment on the decision to include Echizen-kun in the ranking blocks, but Pro Tennis Monthly has learned that Echizen Ryoma's father is none other than the legendary former professional player Echizen Nanjiroh. We will all be interested to see whether the Samurai's son lives up to his potential.
Seigaku's boys' team line-up for the coming season is as follows: Captain Tezuka Kunimitsu, third year; vice-captain Oishi Shuuichiroh, third year; Fuji Shuusuke, third year; Kawamura Takashi, third year; Kikumaru Eiji, third year; Momoshiro Takeshi, second year; Kaidoh Kaoru, second year; Echizen Ryoma, first year.
"Buchou?" Ryoma is sprawled on his stomach on the bed, bare feet waving in the air as he idly flips through a tennis magazine. The glossy pages flick and whisper in his fingers; Tezuka looks up for a moment, then returns his attention to his racquet grip. The tape is familiar enough in his hands that he could do this in his sleep, but he takes care anyway, wrapping it precisely.
"What?" he asks eventually, when he is satisfied with the feel of the retaped grip in his hand.
"You've got Federer tomorrow." Ryoma rolls over, propping himself on his side and staring across the room at Tezuka. His eyes are opaque and guarded, his face a picture of careful apathy that hides nothing at all.
"Aa." Tezuka sets the racquet carefully into his bag, zipping it slowly. "I don't intend to lose." He stretches, easing the ache out of muscles cramped by three hours of watching Ryoma's semi-final match, and starts toward the bed.
Ryoma's eyes go wide, suddenly, and Tezuka freezes. It takes a moment for him to realise that his hand has crept to his left elbow, and another moment to connect that with the familiar taste of the words in his mouth. Oh, Tezuka thinks.
Ryoma is looking at him as though one or both of them may shatter. Tezuka drops his hand slowly, fingers tightening into a fist. He is not going to lose before he faces Ryoma in the final. Carefully, he rotates his shoulder, reassuring himself that the range of movement is the same as ever. There is no pain.
Tezuka closes his eyes for a moment, then takes a deep breath and sits down on the bed. Ryoma looks away from him, poking at his magazine. Tezuka recognises the English characters for his own name; he leans closer to look, and Ryoma shoves the magazine out of the way, scrambling to his knees and inching around until he can press himself to Tezuka's back, face buried in his left shoulder.
"I want to play you, buchou." The words are half-muffled, but Tezuka can feel them hot against his skin. Ryoma's hands clutch at his chest with the force of memory. There is no need for this, Tezuka thinks; he is in his best form, and it has been years since that injury has been anything but a ghost. He closes his eyes, and lets Ryoma hold him.
The Match To End All Matches
The tennis career of Seigaku's National-level captain Tezuka Kunimitsu may be on the line today after he lost to Hyoutei's Atobe Keigo in the longest tie-break ever seen in the Kantou tournament. Tezuka-kun collapsed with a shoulder injury when serving for his match point at six to five, but subsequently returned to the court to finish the game. With Tezuka hampered by his injury, Atobe took the game and the match went into twelve-point tie-break. Atobe-kun eventually won the match at thirty-seven to thirty-five, but even he appeared stunned by Tezuka's determination.
Both Seigaku and Hyoutei were determined to win this match, as only the victor could progress to the National Tournament next month. Seigaku unexpectedly took Doubles Two with a makeshift combination, but lost Doubles One to Hyoutei's Ohtori and Shishido pair. Singles Three, a power match between Seigaku's Kawamura and Hyoutei's Kabaji, was declared a no-game after both players were injured. Singles Two was won by Seigaku, with Fuji Shuusuke beating Hyoutei's Akutagawa six to one. Tezuka-kun's injury and subsequent loss made the match a tie, and the reserve players were called for.
Both schools turned out to have stunning aces up their sleeves. Hyoutei second year Hiyoshi Wakashi, however, was obviously not expecting to be facing a player of Echizen Ryoma's calibre. After exchanging words with his captain, Echizen-kun proceeded to take control of the match with brutal use of the Twist Serve, his signature Drive B, and the surprise appearance of Tezuka's Zero-Shiki Drop Shot. Hiyoshi-kun's innovative martial-arts-inspired tennis was ultimately unable to compete; Echizen took the set at six games to four, securing the victory for Seigaku.
At this point, it is uncertain whether Tezuka Kunimitsu's shoulder will heal well enough to permit his return to tennis. Ryuuzaki Sumire, Seigaku's coach, told Pro Tennis Monthly that only time would tell, but that Tezuka-kun would not be satisfied with anything less. "Seigaku's team is full of stubborn young men," Ryuuzaki-sensei said. "Everything they did today was about getting into the Nationals; none of them are going to give up."
After the inevitable round of interviews and speculations (yes, of course he is looking forward to the final. Yes, he's well acquainted with Echizen's tennis. Yes, they've known each other for some time. No, they have never faced each other in a major final), Tezuka returns to the hotel and stands under the shower for a long time, thinking about his last official match with Ryoma. When he comes out of the bathroom, wrapped in a too-fluffy hotel towel and hair still damp, Ryoma is sitting in the middle of the bed.
"There you are." Ryoma slides off the bed as Tezuka crosses the room, stepping in front of him and splaying a hand across his chest. "I'm going to win, buchou." The smile on his face is pure Echizen, all cocky self-confidence and vicious glee, edging into a smirk at the corners.
"You can try." Tezuka raises an eyebrow, looking down at him impassively. Ryoma moves closer, eyes intense as he slides his hand up Tezuka's chest and around to the nape of his neck, tangling his fingers into damp hair. Tezuka does his best not to shiver, and Ryoma laughs, stretching up to kiss him.
The final is tomorrow, Tezuka thinks, opening his mouth to Ryoma's. He is still feeling the aftermath of an incredibly intense game, and they have not yet had dinner. He takes Ryoma to bed and presses kisses into the insides of his thighs until they are both shaking with need.
The National Tournament: Day One
Seigaku Captain Tezuka Kunimitsu, who was forced to retire from the team after sustaining a serious shoulder injury in the first round of the Kantou Tournament, has completed a stunning return to form with a 6-4 victory over Higa Chuu's Kite Eishirou. Tezuka, who at first appeared disadvantaged by Kite's violent and unpredictable game, came back from four games down to take the set with a display of skill and precision that left his opponent powerless against him. His victory ensured that Seigaku will proceed to the quarter-finals with a no-loss record.
Seigaku first-year Echizen Ryoma began the match with a tie-break victory, countering Tanishi's Big Bang Serve with the Cool Drive he first employed to beat Rikkai's Sanada in the Kantou finals. Seigaku's Fuji then showed off a new counter shot in Doubles 2 before the great surprise of the day: doubles specialist Kikumaru Eiji taking Seigaku's victory in Singles 2. Seigaku's remaining two matches might almost have seemed anticlimactic, but Tezuka's game put paid to any such thoughts; even his own team-mates could barely believe their eyes.
(Full report page 6)
It doesn't take long for the match to fade into a blur of grass under his feet, sun overhead, the murmurs and applause of the crowd. The world narrows to the boundaries of the court, and Ryoma's grin across the net is the only constant. Later, Tezuka will remember that; now is for the moment, the precise smack of ball on gut that reverberates up his arm. Tezuka no longer finds it remarkable that he plays his best tennis against Ryoma.
They know each other's games as well as their own. Ryoma is the first to find the Zone, and Tezuka can see him laugh as the ball curves back to him, turning a corner smash into an easy shot. It's enough of an advantage to give Ryoma the first set, and the second rapidly descends into a battle for control. Ryoma's grin turns into a scowl and a muttered curse when he reaches the net a fraction too late to pick up the zero-shiki. Tezuka breathed deeply and serves for set point, unsurprised when Ryoma catches what should have been an ace, turning it into a lobbed return. There is an edge to his movements that speaks far louder than words; he glares when Tezuka gives him back one of his own drive volleys, mouth shaping around syllables that make Tezuka momentarily glad that they are not in Japan.
It is a warm day, and Tezuka feels the sweat running down his back as he moves to meet Ryoma's serve. The sensation blends into the familiarity of the day; this is Ryoma's tennis, and Tezuka knows that he cannot let his guard down for a second. He has never felt so exhilarated in his life.
By the end of the fourth set, Ryoma's face is intent, his eyes fixed on Tezuka. The crowd is almost silent now, the umpire's calls creating only faint ripples. Tezuka hears the familiar words but doesn't absorb them; his whole body is caught up in the game, in the stretch and burn of muscle, the arc of the ball as it curves between them, the flex and shift of Ryoma's form across the net. Tezuka feels as though he is moving through a dream; it no longer matters why they are playing this game, only that Ryoma is countering everything he has, pushing him higher with every step and shot. This is their tennis, and if they have ever had limits then Tezuka has forgotten them.
Tezuka doesn't realise he's won until the roar of the crowd strikes him like a physical blow. Ryoma is laughing as he stumbles to the net, magnetic despite sweat and exhaustion. Tezuka can feel his own limbs trembling with fatigue, but it all seems very far away. He extends his hand out of pure habit, and Ryoma's fingers slide over his with a slick shock of contact that sends tremors through his whole body. Then Ryoma's hands are on his shoulders, pulling him forward into a kiss that seems an extension of the game: hard and demanding and filled with the need and life that only exists on the court. Tezuka is responding before he can think or draw breath, and by the time the shocked hush filters into his ears Ryoma is already pulling back, the haze fading from his eyes. Tezuka cannot help but regret it, a little.
Grand Slam Scandal
The pro tennis world was rocked yesterday by an unprecedented incident at the Wimbledon Men's Singles final. At the conclusion of the match, officials and spectators alike were shocked and baffled when finalists Tezuka Kunimitsu (19) and Echizen Ryoma (17), both Japanese, abandoned the traditional handshake for an undeniably passionate kiss at the net.
"If this is a joke, it's in very poor taste," commented one spectator, who did not wish to be named. The ATP and ITF have made no official statements as yet, but a spokesman for the English Lawn Tennis Association has ruled out any question of impropriety surrounding the match itself, calling it "one of the best games ever seen on Centre Court."
Tezuka overcame a significant first-set disadvantage to take the second and third with narrow margins; Echizen fought back to take the fourth, and the match and tournament went to final-set tie-break. Tezuka eventually took the tournament 3-6, 7-5, 7-6 (7-5), 5-7, 7-6 (23-21), his first Grand Slam victory since last year's US Open. He has never previously faced Echizen, who currently holds the other two Slam titles, in a major final.
Both players refused to comment on the incident to the press, neither confirming nor denying that they have a relationship beyond the courts. Their rivalry, however, goes back to middle school, where both were members of the National-winning Seigaku team, Tezuka as captain and Echizen as an extraordinarily talented first year. Two years ago, they were reunited at Seigaku High, exchanging Singles One and Two for the season and surprising no one with a reprise of their National victory. Echizen turned professional immediately after his sixteenth birthday, stunning the world by making the final of the Australian Open. Tezuka followed him after graduating high school, and narrowly beat him out of a place in the French Open semi-finals; Echizen retaliated by claiming last year's Wimbledon title after Tezuka lost to Federer in the semi-finals. With the Grand Slams divided between them, the national press has described them more than once as "the pillars of Japanese tennis."
Scandal aside, yesterday's match is unlikely to change this assessment. Both Echizen and Tezuka were on top form, playing a game that dazzled even the top pros in the crowd. The atmosphere was intoxicating and tense, as the players rendered it impossible to predict the course of the match. During the second set break, an official in the ATP booth was heard to remark that he had never seen two players so obviously enjoying a major game.
The conclusion of the match, however, has shocked everyone. Rather than exhibiting shame or disappointment, Echizen laughed out loud when Tezuka scored the final point. Both players seemed almost to be glowing as they met at the net, and the crowd fell utterly silent as their handshake turned into what can only be described as a lingering kiss. Thus far, all requests for interviews concerning the incident have been turned down.