Captivate (Part 2)

At first, Shishido was relieved to hear he'd be rooming with someone from his own year. He'd been afraid, due to the last minute placement, he'd get stuck on a floor full of freshmen. Then, he opened the door to his new home, walked in, and saw just who it was he'd be living with for the next semester.

"Aw, fuck."

Mukahi Gakuto, fellow tennis player and general bane to Shishido's existence, looked up him and sneered.

"Hey there, roomie. Good to see you too."

"Fuck."

"My, aren't we eloquent this morning?" Gakuto rolled his eyes and went back to trimming his fingernails.

"Fuck me," Shishido cringed.

"Ryou!" Shishido jumped as his father's voice admonished him from behind. "Such language!" He shook his head in disapproval.

"Er . . . sorry, dad," Shishido awkwardly threw his bag onto the other end of the sofa Gakuto was sitting on and took his suitcase from his father's hands. He lugged it into a bare corner of the room while his father introduced himself to Shishido's new roommate. Shishido silently prayed that Gakuto wouldn't mortally offend his father, and went to fetch his other suitcase from the car.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ohtori's new roommate was a quiet, serious sort. He showed up a couple hours after Ohtori had, just as Ohtori was beginning to get settled in. Ohtori was unpacking some of his clothes into the small closet in his room, when he heard the front door to their suite open.

"Hello?" Ohtori called and a figure appeared in the doorway to his room. He was shorter than Ohtori (not surprisingly), his hair hung around his head in a rough-looking sort of bowl cut, and he had a set of the most incredibly sharp, penetrating eyes. He also had on one of the most somber expressions Ohtori had ever seen. Ohtori wondered if he was always like that, or if he was just having a bad day. Ohtori actually found the expression rather cute, in a big, grumpy teddy bear sort of way.

The boy's name was Hiyoshi Wakashi, and he was actually rather friendly, albeit serious and a bit too proper, once Ohtori got him talking. Ohtori was delighted to learn the boy also played tennis, and planned to join the club once the semester began. The spoke for a little while as Hiyoshi made them tea - with the elaborate traditional ceremony and everything. After he finished his tea, Ohtori decided to take a look around campus and invited Hiyoshi to come for a walk around with him. His roommate politely declined, preferring to unpack and get settled in.

The campus was huge, crowded, and simply gorgeous. Ohtori couldn't help but smile to himself as he walked around, mentally noting where each building was, taking in the lush scenery. Most buildings were lined on the outside with brick, deep brownish-red, although they managed to look very modern just the same, giving them a new, but comfortable aesthetic. There wasn't too much order to the campus, buildings and courtyards were spread out and around in every direction, some areas even seeming like a maze. The pathways, paved in white stone, were lined with enormous trees, many of them cherry blossoms, whose petals were scattered over the grounds in typical elegance. Small courtyards, terraces, and gardens were dispersed between buildings, carpeted by either lush, green grass, or flat, antique-looking stones. Bushes and small trees outlined areas, exotic flowers bloomed in sectioned spots, and enormous benches made of smooth concrete were thrown about here and there. The campus had an amazingly homey, cozy feel, and Ohtori was enchanted by it.

He smiled at other students as he passed them by. Some smiled back, some pretended not to notice, and some just plain didn't notice, as their minds looked very much occupied at the moment. People ran around frantically, carrying boxes and bags, some excitedly greeting friends. Groups of girls would form in places, squealing and giggling as friends were reunited. Ohtori almost felt like an outsider who had stepped into these people's personal world. But, he reminded himself, this was now his world as well.

A sakura petal flew into his face and he flinched, broken from his reverie. He reached a hand up to his face to remove it, now sticking to his lip. He peeled it off and licked his lips, the bitter taste of the plant lingering. He was still walking, slowly, while he stared down peacefully at the petal in his fingers. He ran his thumb and forefinger back and forth, at first softly, enjoying the velvety texture, then roughly, rubbing and crushing the petal into his skin. The withered remains fell to the ground and he paused, lifting his fingers to his nose and inhaling the flower's earthy scent. He breathed in and closed his eyes, feeling at peace.

'This smell,' he said to himself, 'will always remind me of this place.'

He had wandered off into a less populated area of campus and laughed to himself when he realized he was actually right next to his dormitory. He sighed contentedly and sat down on a bench of cool stone placed right next to the building. He watched other students walk by, some talking to each other, some deep in their own thoughts, and one even singing to himself, much to Ohtori's amusement. A soft breeze blew into him from the right, the vague scent of sakura lingering in the wind. Ohtori turned his face into it and inhaled deeply. His eyes followed along the trail of the breeze, and a second later, he was in love.

Two wide eyes of disbelief stared down the path. Ohtori had never given the concept of "love at first sight" any thought or merit, the very idea seeming sweet, but a bit too romantic. Oh, how things change.

Okay so perhaps, a rational voice spoke in his head, he wasn't exactly "in love" . . . but god be damned if he'd ever seen anyone who could instantly make his heart just stop like that. His stomach fluttered with an intensity far more powerful than any infatuation he'd ever had. He really didn't want his brain to break into love sonnets, but he still couldn't help hearing music in the back of his mind. It was a soft, beautiful piano . . . Mozart? One of his concertos, definitely. Oh dear gods, he was hearing fucking music . . . maybe he was in love.

Ohtori realized his eyes were stinging because he'd been holding them open, unblinking, for too long. He soothingly rubbed his eyelids and opened them again, almost hesitant to look up, as if the person had been a figment of some delusional fantasy of his.

He definitely wasn't, Ohtori was happy to know. With this knowledge, his insides began squirming in what could be described as "the inner glee of a schoolboy(or girl) in love." He was real. Oh wow, he was a student at this school and he was real and he was right there, talking to someone else. He was . . . beautiful. No, gorgeous. No, heavenly. Oh dear lord, maybe he was going to start spouting love poetry. The beautiful boy flipped his long, dark hair over his shoulder and smiled at his companion, revealing a bright line of perfect, white teeth. Was it just Ohtori, or was the heavenly being actually shining? It must be just him. Ohtori rubbed his eyes again.

He opened them again and his breath stopped. The heavenly being was looking over here. Not at Ohtori, but in his direction. He must have felt Ohtori staring though, because a moment later, their eyes met, dark, intense blue meeting with wide, soft brown for the first time. Ohtori couldn't remember how to breathe, but he figured it must be inconsequential anyways because right now the beautiful boy was looking right at him with razor sharp eyes, sharper than Hiyoshi's even, and Ohtori hadn't before realized that someone could make you feel naked just by looking at you in the right way.

The eye contact broke quickly, as the boy's companion (an old man - probably his father) was still talking to him. Ohtori gasped, remembering that whole "breathing" thing, and snapped his neck forward again so he was no longer looking in that direction. He stared at the ground, feeling his heart pound in his chest, the sound of it echoing in his ears. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute in a thousand different directions, all of them leading to the image of two dark, penetrating eyes staring into his own. He wondered what that long, glossy hair would feel like running through his fingers, what that slim body would feel like- Ohtori squeezed his hands into fists. Stupid perverted brain with its stupid hentai thoughts. He was making a futile effort to clear his thoughts when he heard footsteps approach.

Ohtori looked up, anticipating. The beautiful boy - who was far, far more beautiful close up - passed him by, not sparing him a second glance, and Ohtori felt his heart sink in disappointment. Unaware of himself, Ohtori stared after him, as he quickly turned the corner towards the front of the building, out of Ohtori's sight. At first, Ohtori almost cried at the loss, before he realized something: the boy must live in the same building as him. Ohtori stood up with an enormous smile and began walking nonchalantly to the front of the dormitory - their dormitory, both his and Ohtori's, whistling happily and stepping so light he was practically skipping.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ohtori was so, so excited. Not just about the beautiful creature living in the same building as him (whom he, unfortunately, hadn't seen since that first day), but about . . . well, everything else. Classes had started the day before yesterday, and he was pleased that he had been able to fit right in. He knew that his height could be intimidating to some, especially to other boys his age, but no one was at all apprehensive of broaching the subject.

"Holy crap! How tall are you?"

"Sugooooooi. Do you play basketball?"

"You're taller than most seniors!"

The banter was all in good humor, and Ohtori easily warmed up to those who approached him. He especially had begun to make good friends with two boys in particular: Junnosuke, a small, bookish boy with glasses who had, much to Ohtori's surprise (he didn't think the boy looked at all athletically-inclined), signed up for the soccer club, and Minoru, a slim but strong-looking boy with an adorable, flirtatious smile that made Ohtori's stomach squeeze, who was having trouble deciding which club to sign up for. Since he had apparently played for fun off and on for years, Ohtori ended up convincing him to join the tennis club.

Which was why Ohtori was really, really excited. Not so much because he'd gotten his friend to take tennis with him, but because the first tennis practice was finally tomorrow after school. Moreover, tomorrow (being the first day of all clubs) was the first meeting for music club as well, which Ohtori would be attending in the morning. Schools generally frowned upon students taking up two clubs, and Hyoutei was no different. In order to get special permission, he was required to meet with the music teacher and perform for him, which was basically the teacher determining if he was worth the time. He had met with him yesterday afternoon and played for him, feeling nervous but confident in his skill. Luckily, the teacher was impressed.

"A lot of potential, to be sure," the teacher, Sakaki-sensei, was a very somber man, and also (Ohtori hated himself for thinking it but...) rather handsome. "But why do you need special permission? What's the other club that gets in the way?"

Ohtori shuffled his feet, feeling kind of dumb. "Um . . . tennis."

Sakaki-sensei quirked an eyebrow, "Oh?"

Ohtori blushed. Of course the music teacher would see Ohtori's other passion as something that would "get in the way."

"Excellent. I'll be seeing you then, before and after school."

Ohtori looked up, confused. "After . . . ?"

Sakaki-sensei nodded firmly. "I hope to see that your tennis is as good as your musical skill," and with that, dismissed Ohtori with a wave.

It wasn't until later, after Ohtori had relayed the experience to his roommate, that he realized what Sakaki-sensei was getting at.

"Baka," Hiyoshi chided him, "you didn't know he's the tennis coach?"

Well, that made having double-club a whole lot easier.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shishido's first week at school was not going as well as he'd hoped. The excitement of living on his own fell flat within the first twenty-four hours, especially the point at which he walked in on Gakuto making out with Oshitari on their sofa.

"Fuck," seemed to be the primary part of Shishido's vocabulary these days.

"Ah, Shishido-kun . . ." Oshitari Yuushi, another fellow tennis player and something of a friend, straightened out his uniform, sitting up. "Nice to see you're living with us this year. Must make things easier."

"Us?" Shishido gritted his teeth. "If you think I'm going to put up with both of you-"

"No, you misunderstand me, Shishido," Oshitari said with a small laugh, "I meant 'us' as in the dormitories, of course."

Shishido just let out a long-suffering sigh, and escaped to his bedroom.

On top of dealing with the "dirty pair," as Shishido had begun to call them, there were other issues making his first week less than enjoyable. Of course, some of this had to do with that unfortunate half of the dirty pair he was forced to live with. Some of it was small things, like getting back in the swing of schoolwork, and adjusting to a new schedule. There was adjusting to life in the dorms, which was difficult enough without his roommate driving him up the wall.

On the other hand, there was tennis club, which Shishido found himself loving even more. Now that he was no longer a freshman, practice was much, much more enjoyable, albeit a lot more difficult. Shishido had made for a perfect first day of practice, defeating two top juniors in singles, hopefully securing himself a singles position for the upcoming match. Tennis competitions started early in the school year, and their first formal match was only two weeks away. The peculiar aspect of Hyoutei's club system was that it only consisted of freshmen and juniors; seniors, who usually quit halfway through the year anyway to study for exams, were encouraged to take the entire school year off from extracurricular activities, and dedicate the year to academics. It wasn't a requirement, and there were some seniors who did participate in clubs, but they were almost always in the clubs more academically-inclined; clubs like English, Literature, or Science. It was an unusual system, unique to Hyoutei. Sakaki, Kantoku of Hyoutei's tennis team, just plain did not allow seniors back onto the team.

The regulars consisted currently of eight juniors: Shishido, Atobe, Oshitari, and Gakuto, as well as Jirou, Taki, Kashiwa, and Kaida. Kantoku had, for whatever reason, seen it fit to appoint Atobe as the new captain. Of course, deep down, Shishido knew he was perfect for the role, but he still didn't like having the queen boss him around.

Ranking matches were to be held after their first match, in which everyone - freshmen and juniors alike - was allowed to compete for one of the eight regular spots. Of course, most freshmen, as with most juniors for that matter, didn't stand a chance of making it onto the regulars (there being over 200 members and only 8 spots), and most club members were only in it for the workout and the fun. Usually, there was a group of about 30-40 who was in it for the competition, and these were the ones who signed up for the ranking matches.

After the first few practices, Atobe had approached Shishido in the regular's weight room, with the intent of discussing likely prospects amongst the new freshmen. Shishido hadn't been worrying too much about the new freshmen, feeling confident in his position. Atobe, however, saw this as a serious misjudgement.

"They are a threat to your position, Shishido. How can you not see that?"

Shishido just rolled his eyes. "They're just freshmen. Who cares?"

"And weren't we just freshmen last year, when we defeated our sempai?" Atobe spoke in that condescending manner that Shishido despised.

"Whatever. Why, do you think any of the freshmen could beat me?" Shishido doubted it himself, although he figured Atobe must have some particulars in mind.

Atobe, however, put off by Shishido's behavior, decided not to divulge this information. "Well, if they're so inconsequential, you don't need to know, do you?"

"Whatever, Atobe," Shishido rolled his eyes again and headed for the showers.

Atobe sighed, watching him leave. "Shishido," the word came out hard, demanding.

Shishido stopped in his tracks, Atobe's very captain-esque tone unsettling him. "What?" he asked, not turning back.

"You should keep a leash on that pride, you know. One of these days, you're going to fall and when you do, you're going to fall hard."

Shishido bristled, snapping his head around to give his captain a death glare. "Is that a threat, buchou?"

Atobe shook his head, looking disappointed. "It's not, actually. Just . . . advice."

Shishido snorted and turned back, walking out of the room. "Thanks for the advice, buchou," he drawled out the last word mockingly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Despite his aloof attitude, Shishido did end up considering Atobe's words. Not the advice part, so much, but that he really shouldn't just dismiss the freshmen so easily. Shishido thought about it, and grudgingly admitted to himself that Atobe, arrogant prick though he was, could very well be right.

So, he began to observe the freshmen a bit. For the most part, they made him laugh out loud. There were even some who obviously hadn't even picked up a racket before this, and Shishido could only snort as they made one stupid mistake after the other. He did have to admit, though, there were a few potentials amongst the horde of incompetence. Atobe had taken a liking to one in particular: a big, hulking mass that went by the name of Kabaji. He was strong (Shishido would hope so, given his size), he was good, and he was, apparently, easily trained. Shishido felt a stab of pity for the kid when he noticed that by the end of the fourth practice, he had become Atobe's personal servant. There were a few others who didn't seem too bad, but Shishido still didn't think they were up to his level, and didn't give them much thought.

That was until the fifth practice. This day's practice, much to Shishido's dismay, would be focusing almost entirely on doubles. Therefore, everyone was matched up, by Atobe and Kantoku, to those who were apparently of similar skill. Shishido got matched up with a freshman by the name of Hiyoshi - a scrawny, not terribly friendly, but reasonably-talented player. Together, they were going up against Taki, another regular, and another freshman, a tall, muscular boy named Ohtori. Shishido hadn't seen him play much, but trusted Kantoku's judgement that in matching the four of them together, he must also have reasonable skill.

Apparently, the two freshmen knew each other, as he saw Ohtori flash Hiyoshi a knowing smile as they shook hands before the match. Shishido narrowed his eyes at him, grabbing the freshman's attention, and causing him to blush. When they shook, Shishido squeezed his hand much harder than necessary, and felt the boy tense. He cheered inwardly; intimidation was always a good approach in a match.

Or, so he thought.

The thing was, Shishido didn't play doubles. He much preferred singles, because he just wasn't comfortable with relying on someone else in a game. He preferred to play at his own pace, not having to adjust to that of a partner. He and Hiyoshi took the first game; the kid having a decent-enough serve. Shishido just let things be, not barking out at the boy like he wanted to, trying to remain calm and get into the flow of the game. All was going well, and when they switched courts after the first game, Shishido gave Taki an arrogant smirk as he walked by.

Taki rolled his eyes at Shishido and shot an annoyed glance at his own freshman partner. The kid, who seemed to have this almost-constant awareness to his surroundings, noticed and turned red. For a moment, he looked like he might cry, and Shishido let out a short, abrupt laugh.

"Why don't you let the freshie serve, eh Taki?"

Taki narrowed his eyes at him. "I don't-"

"I can serve, sempai," Ohtori interrupted. He immediately realized that it was rude, however, and panicked. "Ah! I'm sorry! I mean, I, um . . . I can serve first, if you don't mind, Taki-sempai. If it's okay," he finished lamely.

"Whatever," Taki snapped in that girlish manner he got when irritated. "Just serve already."

"Hai!" Ohtori beamed and Shishido smirked in delight. He was eagerly looking forward to showing the kid a thing or two.

Then, however, things began to get ugly.

Shishido didn't know what he was expecting when the tall freshman went to serve. He watched the serve closely, admiring the boy's form, as well as his nicely-toned body, perfect for tennis. Shishido had to admit he might have been a bit envious - Shishido's own body, although very fit, looked rather slight in comparison. Shishido noted the silver cross on his neck - a Christian? Not a very common occurrence at Hyoutei. Ohtori threw the ball into the air with impressive grace, a look of utmost determination flashing in his face; a look Shishido felt himself momentarily sympathize with. Maybe he and the kid had certain things in common.

Shishido's thoughts clouded the next moment, as he noticed the boy's lips move, apparently saying something, as he served the ball.

Shishido stood there, stupidly, as the ball whizzed right past his side.

His jaw dropped and he felt himself go red. He was instantly angry - he wasn't sure at what exactly, for it certainly wasn't the kid's fault he had an amazing serve, so it was probably more annoyed and a bit embarrassed at himself for just standing there like an idiot as the perfectly aimed serve passed him by.

To say he was surprised was an understatement. Tall and broad-shouldered as the freshman may be, he didn't look like he was packing that much strength. Shishido, however, wasn't alone on this; apparently, everyone was just as surprised as him.

"Sugoi, Ohtori-kun!" Ohtori's partner, Taki, yelled enthusiastically. Shishido looked over and saw Hiyoshi's eyes were as wide as his own. But . . . didn't Hiyoshi know him? Shishido felt confused.

"No fair, Choutarou! You've been hiding that from us, haven't you?" a voice called over from the adjacent court, and Shishido looked around to see a crowd of other players assemble toward their court.

Ohtori - or 'Choutarou', who was apparently already on first-name terms with the other freshmen - gave a modest laugh, scratching the back of his head, blushing rather cutely.

Shishido stamped his foot. Cute? Where the hell did that thought come from?

"I guess, I wanted to save it for the sempai," Ohtori spoke loudly so his friend on the other court could hear him.

By this point (rumors spread like wildfire at Hyoutei even on the tennis courts), a crowd had gathered around the court, and Shishido cringed as he spotted Kantoku heading over to break it up.

"What's wrong, Shishido? Freshmen giving you trouble?" Shishido swore inwardly as the voice of his captain sounded behind him. He turned to see Atobe smiling at him with his eyebrows raised inquiringly.

Shishido snarled and faced back toward the court. Ohtori was currently being prodded into conversing with some gathering freshmen.

"Hey, freshman! Serve already!" Shishido yelled angrily, causing Ohtori to jump and stutter an apology.

Shishido took a deep breath, grounding himself, and focused his attention completely on the other side of the court. He relaxed and felt his confidence return. He just hadn't been ready for it the first time, he reasoned. This time, it was all his.

Ohtori served it once again, obviously not at all bothered about the audience, impressively enough, and Shishido gripped hard on his racket, narrowed his eyes, and prepared himself.

The ball was served and Shishido kept his eyes locked on it, taking aim. He swung for it as it reached him, and, before realizing, his racket had been knocked straight out of his hand.

The collective sounds of awe reverberated around him. Shishido looked back and saw his racket was now in three different pieces. Atobe said nothing, but Shishido could feel him smirking at his back.

"Enough!" Kantoku's voice boomed over the excited babble of the crowd, silencing them quickly and firmly.

"Back to your matches! Atobe!" Atobe narrowed his eyes. "Keep an eye on this match. Everybody else, back to your match, or thirty laps. Now!" The crowd scattered soberly back to their courts.

The rest of the match was a nightmare for Shishido. Whether it was his lack of skill and enthusiasm for doubles, or his irritation at being one-upped by the freshman, Shishido couldn't remember the last time he'd played this badly. His concentration was just not in the game. He got annoyed with his partner far more than the kid deserved, and by the end, had made a total and complete idiot out of himself. His team lost 2-6, and Shishido couldn't help but feel ashamed as he walked by Atobe afterwards, the feel of his captain's glare burning into him.

Shishido was at least grateful that he didn't get a lecture. However, he was in an incorrigible mood the rest of the night, unable to concentrate on his homework, lacking appetite, and snappy with anyone who came within ten feet of his vicinity. His mind brooded endlessly on the match and on the freshman whose name he'd somehow already forgotten. Choutarou? He thought he remembered someone calling him that. He had become so engrossed, so obsessed with picturing the match and the freshman in his mind, he'd lost track of all such technicalities as names. It even took him a few minutes to remember the name of whom he'd been partnered with, despite the fact he'd probably yelled it out cursing dozens of times during the match.

He tossed and turned in his bed, not getting to sleep until three hours after he'd laid down, thoughts of the tall, silver-haired freshman grating on his nerves and keeping him awake.

End of Part 2

On to Abatement (Part 3)

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