Title: Sunday Mornings
Fandom: Prince of Tennis: Fudomine Chuugaku
Characters: Mori Tatsunori, Sengoku Kiyosumi, Uchimura Kyosuke, Sakurai Masaya, Kamio Akira
Prompt: 089 - Work
Word Count: 1170
Date finished: 06/20/2007
Rating: G
Summary: Mori has to work - and gets a friend out of it.
Author's Notes: This one was chosen by my friend Natalie (lj user skyangel2009), and is from the crack generator: "Mori Tatsunori / Sengoku Kiyosumi - Nighttime job". I had no idea where it came from, but it seemed to work okay.
Disclaimer: Characters are owned by Konomi Takeshi, and whoever did the anime. At any rate, it's not me.

Because if he couldn't sleep, he could at least get something done.

He only worked there part time - three hours a night, three days a week - and only once in a while did he wonder who the other guy was on the days he didn't work. Or guys, maybe; he really had no idea. He was pretty careful not to leave anything of his behind.

At least, he thought he was, until a tall (well, everyone was tall compared to him, still) redhead approached him in class one day and wordlessly handed him his ipod - carefully labeled with his name. Mori blinked at him. "Oh. Thanks," he said.

"I wondered who else worked there. Sengoku Kiyosumi. Nice to meet you."

Mori started. "Wait. I know you. An said you were a pain."

The redhead snorted softly. "Tachibana An?" he asked, and winked at Mori. "I can give her the same compliment. Ah…" he said suddenly, hands up in surrender as Mori glared at him. "By that reaction, you must have been one of her brother's teammates. Why aren't you still playing?"

Mori calmed down a little - enough, at least, to notice his face had flushed. "I had to find work," he said softly. "I… My mom was laid off, and so…."

Sengoku nodded. "I understand. I'm working to support my tennis habit."

Mori chuckled, relaxing completely. "It really is a habit, isn't it?" he asked, and didn't notice how wistful he sounded.

"Do you still play at all?"

"I'd like to," Mori said, "but there just isn't time."

"It's not your only job."

"It's where I get my homework done," Mori said.

Sengoku nodded slowly. "I see. When's your next day off?"

Mori shook his head. "Sunday. But I'll spend it getting…"

"Sunburned," Sengoku said. "Join me for a game, and then I'll study with you. Fair?"

He should say no, and he knew it, but his hands ached for a racquet, and he wanted to play so badly he could taste it. Instead of shaking his head, like he wanted to, he nodded.

"Good." The redhead smiled. "I'll see you at the street courts at ten a.m. Bring a lunch and your books."

Before Mori could protest, the redhead was gone.

It became a regular occurrence, one his mother whole-heartedly supported. "I know you worry about your grades," she told him one Sunday morning as he not-so-reluctantly packed up his books to meet Lucky (the boy had insisted, and as he was one of the better senpai Mori had ever known, he agreed to call him that). "But I worried about you." She poked him gently in the chest. "I think this is healthy."

It certainly made him feel better; the gray cloud lifted and stayed away a little longer than usual after a game, and the future didn't seem quite so… dismal.

In fact, to be honest, those matches were about the only bright thing in his life. He'd never really regretted going to Yamabuki's high school, but now he was glad he'd gone. And even more glad that his new friend - imagine, calling a senpai other than Tachibana-san a friend - had talked him into the games.

His former teammates - the others who had chosen Yamabuki - noticed a difference. Uchimura noticed first, of course; they were in the same class, although he hadn't been there when Sengoku had returned his ipod. Mori would have expected him to notice first anyway; they'd been doubles partners, after all, and probably knew each other better than anyone else on the team.

"What's going on?" Uchimura asked one Monday as they walked down to lunch.

"Going on?" Mori asked, confused.

"Yeah. You're not… walking around in this cloud of doom."

Mori snorted softly. "See! That's what I mean. You actually almost laughed, and you've been so… gloomy that nothing I said seemed to break into it. So. What gives?"

"I... uh… I've been playing tennis on Sundays."

Uchimura glared. "You what?" he demanded. "You said you couldn't, that you had to study…."

"I know. I don't know what happened. He insisted and I went and…." He ground to a stop at the look on Uchimura's face.

"Who?"

It came out much more gentle than Mori would have thought. "Um. Sengoku."

Uchimura's eyes widened to comical proportions just as Sakurai joined them. "Lucky?" he demanded. "The guy that kept hitting on An?"

"What about him?" Sakurai asked.

Mori sighed and waved good-bye to any thoughts of a quiet lunch.

By the time he'd finished explaining, Kamio had joined them, sitting across from Mori and next to Sakurai. They were all quiet, staring at him as if he'd grown a second head so convincingly that he actually checked both shoulders to make sure he hadn't.

"I'm glad."

Uchimura was the first to speak, and in a tone very different from how he usually spoke. Mori looked at him, confused. "What?"

"I'm glad someone broke you out of that," he went on. "I mean… I haven't seen you that… depressed since before Tachibana-san joined us."

"I was not that bad!" Mori protested.

"Actually, yes, you were," Kamio said, folding his arms and placing them on the table. He leaned forward. "I could see it, too, and I had no idea how to get you out of it."

Sakurai nodded in agreement, and Mori flushed. "Oh. I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "I didn't think…"

"Hey, as long as you're okay," Sakurai said, slapping his shoulder.

"I am. Mostly."

"How's your mom?" Uchimura asked.

Mori sighed, and thus began the weekly interrogation.

He knew he'd miss it, though, if they ever stopped.

The next Sunday he quite literally bounced up the stairs to the street courts, waving enthusiastically to Lucky as he started over. "You've got some good news," Lucky said as Mori sat down next to him to tighten his laces and get his racquet out.

"Yep. Mom got a better job - better pay - so I can quit one of my jobs. I think I'll keep the night one, though," he said. "Just because I'm going to have to earn money for this tennis habit of mine."

Lucky laughed and got to his feet. "Yep. Does that mean you'll join the tennis club?"

"As soon as I can," Mori agreed. "I think I was more addicted than I thought. The withdrawal nearly killed me."

Lucky laughed again. "I'll let you serve this time," he said, and Mori headed to the other side of the court, lighter than he'd been in months.

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