High School Demon Sweetheart | By : TrishaMCH Category: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1049 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any of its characters. It belongs to Konomi-sensi. I’m merely using the characters because I like to have fun with them. No profit is being made. |
CHAPTER 7
Hiyoshi arrived early to the Hyotei versus Rikkai match out of habit. As he wandered by the Hyotei locker room, he found the team walking to the courts. When he saw the familiar uniforms and determined expressions, a spike of envy made him hesitate.
“Yo, Piyo-chan! You came!” Gakuto shouted in his direction, making him wince. Choutarou waved, Oshitari smirked, Shishido snorted, and Atobe did his stupid insight thing. Everyone else turned to look at him with different levels of surprise or indifference. Rolling his eyes, he turned away and walked towards the court.
Kirihara was in the locker room with his team, getting on his game face and getting ready to annihilate Hyotei, looking really fired up. He walked out with his team, standing just to the side of the three demons, his eyes dark and serious. He could hear the calls of Hyotei and Rikkai’s teams mixed and raised his head a bit more, bright yellow jersey moving in the wind with his curly hair.
Spotting Kirihara with his team, Hiyoshi chuckled seeing the familiar expression and attitude before a game. He stopped with his arms crossed and a trained indifferent expression as the Rikkai team passed by him. He tried not let his attention stray to just Kirihara for too long.
Kirihara glanced over at Hiyoshi, picking him out of the crowd immediately. He didn’t smile like he normally would but did lift his fingers in a little "V" then kept walking, a small evil smirk finding its way onto his face.
Hiyoshi went to the side area of the courts, away from the crowds. He hoped to avoid the cheerers and other club members as much as possible.
The first match would be Hyotei Gakuen’s Mukahi & Issou pair versus Rikkaidai’s Marui & Kuwahara pair. Following that was the Shishido & Ohtori pair versus the Niou & Yagyuu pair.
Kirihara watched the doubles matches, eyes following the movements, taking in everything with complete focus. He frowned when Marui and Kuwahara lost, but was on his feet cheering when Niou and Yagyuu took the win.
Hiyoshi was proud of his ex-doubles partner. Gakuto had come a long way from one of the supposed under dogs of the team back in middle school. He’d obviously been training very hard over the last two years, and his new doubles partner Issou was a good match for him. Contrary to those thoughts, during Choutarou's match, he'd felt like killing something. He itched for his racket so bad that he’d had to literally keep himself from jumping onto the court and pummeling both of them. Shishido, for being an ass. Choutarou, for being an idiot. If he’d been on the team…He caught sight of Kirihara and his thoughts changed focus.
“Win, Akaya.”
“Roger that, Fukubuchou,” the junior ace replied and looked at Hiyoshi with a confident smirk, eyes sparking with excitement before standing and pulling off his jersey jacket.
Hiyoshi answered a smirk with one of his own then looked over to see who he was playing. His smirk widened. He was playing Oshitari. Kirihara was really going to have to work for it.
As they both walked out onto the court, Hiyoshi could almost feel the competitive aggression in Kirihara’s stance. Oshitari just looked like he was about to play a very interesting chess match.
“Nice to see you again, Kirihara-kun.” Oshitari extended his hand. “Or is it Medusa boy?” he chuckled good-humouredly.
Kirihara shook his hand in a crushing grip and glared at him. “Watch your mouth, you backwater weirdo,” saying it with a little sneer. He turned back to walk to the baseline, his racket over his shoulder, determined to crush the cocky tensai.
Oshitari, not at all put off, called out to him, “Thank you for bringing our Hiyo-chan with you!” He smirked satisfactorily as he assumed his position, ready to play.
At Oshitari’s loud words, his statement swept through the crowd, immediately causing a backlash of murmurs. Hiyoshi felt like killing a certain tensai and crawling into a hole. He was very glad he’d opted out of sitting in the bleachers.
Kirihara glared at Oshitari and served hard and fast, the unpredictable knuckle serve racing over the net at rocket speeds.
Predicting such a response, the tensai did not immediately go for the serve and let it fly by him, missing him.
To Hiyoshi, it was already obvious what was happening. His tensai sempai liked to play mind games with his opponents, and Kirihara was one of the simplest minded people he knew. If Kirihara was pushed, he may lose his focus. Then again, he might also end up killing Oshitari. After that comment though, and still hearing the gossip vultures whispering in the stands, Hiyoshi was completely okay with Kirihara killing the blue-haired bastard.
Kirihara growled at Oshitari and served again, waiting for the other to start fighting back, but his opponent just smiled that irritating knowing grin and once again missed the serve on purpose. Cursing in frustration, he served again, this time aiming for Oshitari.
Oshitari had been waiting for that. He knew if he egged the temperamental boy on enough, the knuckle serve, which was difficult to predict, would then be directed at him. Now he had a general idea of where the serve was going to hit and be able to return it. Perhaps it was a somewhat unreasonably dangerous tactic, but where was the fun without a little danger? He sent the ball back over the net.
Kirihara returned the ball as hard as he could. Before the end of the first game, his eyes had already started turning red.
When the time came to change courts, except for a few minor scratches, Oshitari was still in one piece. As they passed each other, Oshitari made it a point to tease in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Please forgive me Kirihara-kun, if I've upset you. I'm sure we can find you a doctor if your case of red eye becomes permanent.”
“Go to hell, blue haired freak.” He replied simply and walked over to the other side of the court, hearing the cheers of some of his senpai.
Hiyoshi spotted Gakuto jumping up and down in excitement and had to smile for his old team. He was a little concerned about Kirihara's temper though. Usually, the idiot’s temper didn’t go off quite this fast.
Before getting into position on his side of the court, Oshitari grinned at Kirihara again then winked at Hiyoshi as he walked by him.
Kirihara growled and gripped his racket tightly.
Sanada stood and frowned, eyebrows furrowing. “It's coming...”
“Eh? This early?” Marui asked surprised.
“It seems Oshitari-san has found a sore spot.” Yagyuu added with a grim expression.
Niou laughed. “Yeah, one even Aka-chan wasn’t aware of.”
Satisfied at the situation, Oshitari strengthened his grip and readied himself for what he knew was likely to happen next. He sent a hard but straightforward serve to test the situation first.
Kirihara hit it back, aiming right at Oshitari’s face, his skin dying itself red as he did. “I'll make you red too you son of a bitch.” He didn’t understand why he was bothered so much, but he couldn’t help it.
The attack was too sudden, and Oshitari barely escaped in time. It left a small cut on his cheek. His smile turned to a serious frown as he re-evaluated his opponent and got back into position.
Kirihara raised his racket at Oshitari, challenging him as he laughed evilly. “Let's go.”
Oshitari just smirked, actually excited by the challenge. “Shall we?”
“Bastard...” Kirihara gripped his racket tightly and glared over the net at Oshitari, his eyes red and focused.
Oshitari tried to take that focus away as much as possible. Altering between graceful tensai moves meant to confuse, trying not to get killed by his opponent’s vicious attacks, and teasing remarks meant to aggravate him even further. One small miscalculation resulted in a hit on his upper thigh. “I do hope your little training sessions with our Hiyo-chan doesn't result in such abuse,” he commented while trying to hide a grimace.
Hiyoshi raised an eyebrow as he was mentioned again. What did it matter if Kirihara ever got serious on him like that? If the idiot ever tried that shit on him, he’d be more than capable of taking care of himself. He was irritated that Oshitari would even mention it. Wait... How did he know they trained together? And what the hell was wrong with Kirihara, anyway? Why did he get so worked up that fast in the first place?
“You just don't shut the fuck up, do you?” Aiming for him mercilessly, Kirihara did his best to bring him to his knees. He aimed for his face, his knees, anything and everything he could to bring the cocky tensai down.
Oshitari could see Kirihara was now solely aiming at him which made it much easier to anticipate his shots, but also made the situation significantly more dangerous. Thankfully, control being one of his greater skills, he was able to maintain his composure and use it to his advantage. Kirihara's own control slipped farther and farther until the game was finally drawing to an end.
Hiyoshi heard the Hyotei cheers becoming louder and louder as opposed to Rikkai's as it became obvious who was going to win. He wondered if Kirihara like this even noticed it was almost over.
Kirihara managed to drag them into a tiebreak, but he wasn’t even aware of the score. He missed one of the shots and slid on the court, face first. He managed to push himself up with a quiet curse, but froze on his hands and knees when he heard the announcer give the score, “Game set. Won by Oshitari, 7 games to 5.” He dragged his fingers over the court, then slowly stood and walked over with his head hung to shake his opponent’s hand. The red demonic skin was long gone, replaced instead by a look somewhere between depression and fury.
Oshitari shook Kirihara's hand with a grin, looking every bit as beat up and worn out as Kirihara did. “Good game. I hope to play you again once you've worked on your control, and maybe your temper.” He winked good-humoredly then turned back to where his teammates were cheering his name.
Hiyoshi wasn’t sure if he was pleased or disappointed with the outcome, but was glad the match was over. The Hyotei in him was proud, but he understood with clarity the disappointment Kirihara was feeling. He saw Jiroh at the side getting ready for his match, but walked closer to the Rikkai benches, curious how Kirihara was taking the loss.
Formalities completed, Kirihara walked over to the bench where his own team was waiting with frowns and disapproval. He knew why no one, except the demons, were looking at him. He walked over to Sanada obediently, “Sorry, fukubuchou… I—I failed...” He didn’t even have time to brace himself before the back of Sanada’s hand landed hard against his cheek, sending him falling to the ground again.
Everyone on the Rikkai bench, except the ‘big three,’ winced at the familiar sound. With only one word, Sanada gestured to the bench, “Sit.” Slowly, Kirihara climbed to his feet again and trudged over to sit next to Niou, his head hanging and his eyes focusing on anything that wasn’t Hiyoshi.
“Come on,” Niou murmured quietly and opened the first aid kit, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He murmured and started tending to his kohai’s wounds.
It wasn’t Hiyoshi’s place to interfere and talk to Kirihara, so he left the area to get a drink before going back to watch the rest of the matches. The games seemed to go by almost too quickly with Sanada playing against Jiroh in doubles two, winning his match and clearing the way for Yukimura to win his match as well, giving Rikkai the win.
Hiyoshi sighed in disappointment and regret at Hyotei's loss, but he couldn’t help but wonder if his presence on the team would have made any difference. He watched with a strong sense of regret as the teams lined up and bowed respectfully to each other.
As he watched the teams head back to their locker rooms, he himself headed back towards the school.
All of Rikkai started back toward the locker rooms, except Kirihara. He wandered off where he’d seen Hiyoshi leave to, towards the school. Not sure where he was going, he sat on a school fence, feet swinging and head hanging. “Damn it...” he murmured, wiping at his face with his jersey.
Hiyoshi found him there not long after, and walked over to stand by him without saying anything.
“I fucked up...” he mumbled, feeling Hiyoshi standing near him, though not sure how. Maybe it was the way he got that weird feeling in his chest when the other was around. “So... I'll be your slave for a day, just like we agreed...”
“Actually, that wasn't the deal. You only had to be my slave if Hyotei won.” Hiyoshi sighed and went to stand in front of him, taking his chin into his hand to make him look up at him. Examining his beat up face, he smirked. “You took a pretty hard fall at the end, and your vice captain doesn't hold back much.”
“I lost… You won, alright?” The fallen player said unhappily, turning his eyes away from him. “It's alright, I'm used to it. I've had a lot worse than this...”
Hiyoshi took in his glum appearance and decided immediately he didn’t like it. Brushing Kirihara’s hair out of his face, he settled his hand gently on his un-bruised cheek. “So... are you saying you want to be my slave?” He grinned. “I certainly won’t turn down the offer.”
Kirihara blinked, looking up to him at the touch and finally smiled a bit. “Yeah, yeah, don't let it go to your head. Next time you'll be my slave.”
“Don't be so sure about that.” Glad to see the demon’s smile again, Hiyoshi took his hand away and held it out to help him up. “You need a shower. You smell awful.”
“Yeah,” Kirihara laughed, “alright. So, 'master'… When am I going to be your slave? Hm?”
Hiyoshi didn’t mind being called that at all. “Hm...” He hadn't really thought that far, and they usually only met up on Wednesday’s. “Are you free this Sunday?”
“Yeah... You wanna hang out on Sunday?”
Hiyoshi rolled eyes. “Would I have asked if I didn't, idiot?”
“I guess not.”
The idiot looked so pathetic that Hiyoshi was having an awkward moment where he just wanted to hold his hand and bring him closer... which was a really, really, really, stupid idea. “Right. So stop moping here like a brat and go celebrate with your team.” He glared. “Bastards.”
Kirihara stepped closer and wrapped him in a quick hug. “Yeah... Though, I still have laps tomorrow...” He sighed a little.
“Good, you deserve them.” Hiyoshi’s heart seemed to jump in his chest when Kirihara came so close of his own volition. Awkwardly, he forced himself to wrap an arm around Kirihara and held him back for only a moment before letting him go and backing away, looking to the side embarrassed. “Come on. I'll take you back to your team so you don't get lost.”
“Shut up,” the other boy teased and took his hand again. “Alright, let's go.”
Hiyoshi honestly didn't want to, but he squeezed Kirihara’s hand lightly before releasing it and gestured towards the guest locker rooms. “It's this way.” He put his hands in his pockets so the Rikkai boy wouldn’t try to take it again. If anyone caught them, the rumors would spread like wild fire through the whole campus by the next morning.
Kirihara blinked as the hand was pulled away and put his hands in his pockets as well, feeling depressed all over again, though he wasn’t sure why.
When they arrived just a little ways away from the guest locker room, Hiyoshi stopped. He thought it smarter not to get any closer, just in case to avoid being seen together. “I'll see you Sunday.”
Kirihara didn’t even pause, feeling frustrated for some reason. “Yeah... I'll meet you in the usual spot.” He turned around, walking into the locker room, not looking back.
Hiyoshi watched him, waiting for him to go in with a complex look on his face. Once the other boy disappeared from view, he let out his own frustrated sigh, then left.
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