Challenge – Chapter Four
Niou and Yagyuu settle into their partnership.
“You do realize,” Masaharu murmured, “that you can be polite while still smashing them into jelly.”
Niou and Yagyuu settle into their partnership.
“You do realize,” Masaharu murmured, “that you can be polite while still smashing them into jelly.”
Niou coaxes Yagyuu into more intimacy; or perhaps it’s the other way around.
He reached out and, delicately, removed Yagyuu’s glasses. A signal, a symbol, a talisman, but more than anything else an intense desire to see Yagyuu Hiroshi’s eyes.
Niou has an idea for a trick.
Yagyuu moved forward, fingers trailing ever so lightly over Masaharu’s wrist in passing. Masaharu suppressed his reaction, sternly, but couldn’t hold back a grin. Who would have thought that Yagyuu would be an incorrigible tease?
Disaster strikes for the whole team.
After such a golden autumn, no one expected what happened in the heart of winter.
The team starts to recover, and Niou and Yagyuu find another kind of comfort.
It stretched him to the edge of pain, but never quite over. It was, perfectly, everything he desired of his partner, every reason he pressed Yagyuu to let himself go, the extremity of sensation that could have been destruction but, to him, was not.
For Regionals, the team pulls out all the stops.
Masaharu didn’t know about the others, but he’d had to catch Yukimura from falling more than once, while spotting for his “light” practices, and had to carry him back inside twice. He’d watched the frustration his captain could keep out of his voice but couldn’t keep out of his eyes, and shuddered to think what it must be like.
The team brings the results to their captain.
“Is it over, do you think?” Yagyuu asked, at last, barely whispering in the silence. He didn’t protest when Masaharu twined a hand into his hair, drawing his head down to Masaharu’s shoulder.
Just before the end of Chapter Ten Kirihara comes to talk to Yukimura about his final match at Regionals.
If a hawk could smile, it might smile the way Yukimura-san was now.
Sanada and Kirihara address the unproductive aspects of their interpersonal relationship, pursuant to one of Yanagi’s observations in “Water Over Fire”.
Genichirou tried to take the opinions of his hormones with a grain of salt. Akaya was impulsive, considerably moreso than any other member of the team. Giving his impulses free rein was a large part of what had brought them to their current, slightly uncomfortable, position. It behooved Genichirou to at least make sure his younger teammate thought twice. Even once might do.
Kirihara decides to tease Sanada, and the results are about what one might expect.
“Do you remember what I said about teasing, Akaya?” he asked, softly.
Pressed against the length of Sanada-san’s body, so tightly he could feel as well as hear the deep, smooth voice, Akaya couldn’t hold back a triumphant grin.
“That it works?” he suggested, breathless.
Sanada teaches Kirihara a lesson about teasing. Or, possibly, a lesson in teasing.
The look in Sanada-san’s eyes should have warned him.
A small snafu leads to some practice time between Rikkai and Seigaku, just before the end of Nationals.
Momo cast his erstwhile opponent a thoughtful glance. “You know, Marui-san,” he said, slowly, “all of you are acting really different, today.”
Marui cocked an eyebrow at him. “Of course we are,” he responded, easily, “Yukimura’s back.”
Immediately following “The Continuation of War”, Kirihara finds himself somewhat disturbed by the day’s experiences, and Yukimura offers him reassurance.
The lurch as the bus stopped woke Akaya from a half dozing dream that promptly escaped him. All he remembered was that it had involved cutting a tall chain-link fence. And that Fuji had been mixed up in the project. There were really days Akaya wished his subconscious could just send him a memo.
The long awaited last match of Nationals.
Seiichi’s smile changed, undiluted pleasure added to the satisfaction. It was the last round of Nationals, and they were ready.
Tezuka and Echizen settle in with each other.
“But, really! I never thought, in a hundred years, Echizen would actually catch him…”
When the third years retire from the club, Kirihara has to deal with taking over.
It was an obvious truth that few, if any, of them could become what Yukimura or Sanada or Yanagi was. Akaya nodded, and raised his voice. “It doesn’t matter. What we are is Rikkai. We will win.”
Possible answers about Kirihara’s proclivities.
Niou’s eyes narrowed. “So,” he drawled, “it’s one of yours that makes him do that thing with the red eyes and the violence?”
Belial gets a tennis team.
"Absolutely no interfering in the games in any way, shape or form, or the whole deal’s off," Sanada declared, firmly.
Belial leaned hir chin in hir hand. "Doesn’t that conflict with the clause about injury-proofing, though?"
The seal of the contract.
Seiichi remembered when Belial had set the seal of their contract.
Some embarrassment over the seal.
Genichirou, Renji noted, seemed unwilling to look anybody in the face—no, that wasn’t strictly accurate. There were specific people he wasn’t looking in the face, and all of them had just signed the same contract.
Kirihara has a problem with spillover.
No one had told him that he was signing up for this.
If the seal broadcasts sensation…
"Niou," Sanada said, carefully, "are you really suggesting an… orgy?"
Kirihara in Hell.
"You… you… you ate Tash!" Jadis declared, pointing a shaking finger at Akaya. Or, possibly, at the cloud of smoke in front of him that had, until very recently, been one of Jadis’ inferior demons.
Kirihara meets Yanagi while out studying, and they chat about literature, history, psychology and teammates.
Of course, in the past few weeks Akaya had also learned that if he didn’t look up when the door opened he was liable to find himself lassoed by Niou-senpai’s scarf or pounced on by Marui-senpai, who turned out to be a lot more solid than he looked.
Kirihara deals with a stressful practice and finally snaps. In a good way.
Akaya tried to unclench his teeth before he gave himself a headache. “Both of you be quiet,” he growled.
Kirihara sets up some practice matches with Fudoumine, to the general annoyance of most concerned.
What was it, he thought crankily, with pushy senpai who couldn’t retire properly when they were supposed to?
The new year starts, unsettling Kirihara a bit until he talks with Jackal.
The second years he could handle; he had earned what he saw in their faces when they called him Kirihara-buchou. Respect or fear or pride, he had earned it. But the glow in the first years’ eyes, the awe in their voices when they whispered to each other about him, that made him twitchy.
The start of the new year gives Fuji some new problems to deal with. Yamato-buchou is his mildly evil self.
Shuusuke regarded the lineups for the first ranking matches of the year as though the board might bite him.
Tournament season starts, and Kirihara gets a present from his coach.
Akaya turned a glower on Suzuoki, silently demanding to know what he was up to this time. Suzuoki smirked at him. “You got to play exactly once this weekend and last. You should unwind a little. Besides, you could use an actual challenge.”
Kirihara’s second spin through Regionals, and Nationals, as a captain this time.
The pace of what Akaya couldn’t help but think of as the real tournament season had two very different parts. There was the daily practice with his team, which, while demanding and sometimes intense, had a smooth swoop to it. And then there were the actual tournament matches, that sprinted along like a heartbeat after an adrenaline spike.
After the tennis season ends, and the third years retire, Kirihara finds himself at irritatingly loose ends.
Akaya toed the door open and leaned in the frame. “Have I forgotten anything?” he asked, unable to keep the plaintive note out of his voice.
Kirihara finally gets that serious match he wanted out of Tachibana.
Akaya flipped restlessly through the pages of his book, cursing the English language and the educators who thought it was a good idea to make Japanese schoolchildren learn it. The voice that interrupted him wasn’t one he especially wanted to hear, most times, but at the moment even Seigaku’s terrifying old lady coach would have been welcome.
Tachibana and Kirihara stumble into intimacy.
Tachibana was leaning over him, now, playing the same game of dare and counter-dare they played on the court.
The new year begins and Kirihara suffers a bit of culture clash.
“What are you doing here?” Akaya exclaimed, wide eyed.
Suzuoki blew a stream of smoke at him. “The coaches drew straws to see who would stay with each division this year. I got the short one.”
Kirihara’s relationship to Sanada and his temper.
The first time wasn’t really a surprise. Even one summer of observation was enough to tell anyone that Sanada-senpai had no sense of humor.
Some friendly bickering within the Rikkai team.
They were all getting off the bus, stretching and exchanging dinner plans, when Masaharu heard Yanagi ask Kirihara, softly, “So which are you going to be, Akaya? A tiger cub, or the boy who swallowed a dragon pearl?”
Yukimura’s reaction to his team’s behavior during his absence.
“Too many of those games were sloppy, and too many were aimed at cheap victories that were unworthy of you. We are Rikkai. We are the best.” His eyes narrowed. “We don’t need to win by default. Ever.”
A scene that might come just after issue 339. Kirihara angsts a bit until his team makes him see reason.
Yukimura-buchou didn’t look away from the game. “Did you hear what they were calling you?”
Arriving in high school, Kirihara gets a nice welcome back from Sanada. Written for Porn Battle, with the prompt: Sanada/Kirihara, size queen.
The day couldn’t get much better than this. It was a new year; he was a Regular on the high school team; everyone else had gone home and Sanada-san was fucking him, hard and big, stretching Akaya open perfectly.
Kirihara’s view of Yukimura. Written for the Porn Battle prompt: Yukimura/Kirihara, elemental.
When Seiichi-san made love to him it was pure and intense and wiped Akaya’s mind clean of everything but the body over him, inside him, the hands spread against his back, the dip of Seiichi-san’s dark head over him.
A rewrite of the end of Regionals and the month until Nationals. Echizen gets obsessed, Rikkai is still on edge, Tachibana is brooding, Momo is insightful, Kirihara retrains, Atobe is annoyed, Fuji gets down to business, An is delighted, Yukimura is not particularly happy, Tezuka is plotting, and everyone is coming to town.
When the match with Sanada reached five games all, Ryouma knew he was in trouble. It was a new feeling. When he played his dad, he was always in trouble, so the knowledge was meaningless and he’d learned to ignore it. When he’d played Tezuka he’d barely had time to understand that he really was in trouble, and notice what it felt like, before the game was over. After all, it wasn’t like a lower score meant he was losing! He’d come from behind plenty of times and won anyway.
But he could feel his pace falling, now.
Quarter-finals. Fudoumine is making progress and gives Shitenhouji a run for their money, Higa is shocked by Rikkai, and Kirihara has an epiphany that he doesn’t particularly enjoy. Atobe, on the other hand, enjoys his quite a lot.
Semi-finals. Atobe takes Sanada by surprise, Zaizen’s senpai help him start to think more flexibly and Echizen finishes the job, and Shiraishi pushes Fuji all the way.
Finals. Spectators gather and next year’s players start to think about the future, as Rikkai and Seigaku battle it out. Yuuta is gleeful, Kirihara is thoughtful, Zaizen starts getting to grips, and Echizen finally figures out what’s more important than winning.