Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis; that is the domain of Konomi Takeshi, and whoever owns the rights to the Anime.

Writer's Note: When I wrote this, the only experience I had with Atobe Keigo was in the Manga, and he was trying to make off with Tachibana An (the younger sister of Fudomine's captain), having "won" her in a doubles game (which is weird - he plays doubles?), and then again when Ryoma called him the King of the Monkeys. I was casually informed that I got his character completely wrong. I'm pretty sure I got Fuji's wrong, too (and now that I read through it, everyone else's), but this is my first published Prince of Tennis fic.

Writer's Note two: I was reading Dream Novels when I wrote this, so it kind of has that flavor - although I'm not putting the Java in to make it one. So, my characters all have their own names. And on the subject of names: please see the first writer's note on Misunderstanding, and it will clarify what's going on. Also, see Writer's Note three - I think there are more words in this one, but I will try to put them at the end so you know what I'm actually talking about!

Competition

"Look. I'm sorry if it offends your pride, or whatever, but really, I'm not interested. Would you please let me go?"

The situation was far too familiar to Fuji Syusuke's ears. As he came up the stairs, he was sure what he'd see - well, not exactly, but variations on a theme. Somewhere on the tennis court - almost always empty by now, it was getting late - Atobe Keigo of Hyotei would have Yamashita Sachi by the arm, towering over her, asking her out on a date. Or trying to intimidate her into going on one with him.

And so it was; they stood by the net this time, near the center of the court, which meant he'd caught her as she crossed to the benches on the other side. He must have been waiting for her to arrive, in fact. Fuji walked across to join them, smiling as he usually did, although really, he wanted to do something a little more violent. Kabaji's presence at the back of the court deterred him, although if Atobe kept this up, it wouldn't for long.

"Again? You are persistent," he said, standing behind Sachi, arms folded. "If she's not interested, she's not. Leave her alone, Atobe."

Atobe's eyes narrowed, then he let her go. "Fuji," he said in greeting, spun on his heel, and walked off the court.

"How does anyone ever do anything with him?" Sachi asked, her voice low so it wouldn't carry across the court.

"I think he makes them," Fuji said. It was hard not to let his smile turn into a smirk; Atobe might have had a chance, once. He made the mistake of telling Sachi that whatever he wanted, he got, and that had not gone over well. She'd been furious.

Not that Sachi was all that interested in him, either, aside from the help he gave her with her tennis. And that was fine. Really. Even if the tone of his thoughts sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"So. What's up for tonight, Fuji-san?" she asked, looking up at him.

He looked at her. "I don't know. Let's see how much better you're doing."

It was a strange situation all the way around. Sachi was taking lessons - not good enough to be on the school team - and never seemed to get any better. It had been so frustrating to her that she'd gone to the street tennis courts to find someone on her level to just practice with - or even someone better who wouldn't play at their level and would help her with her form or whatever it was that wasn't working.

She'd nearly died when Fuji Syusuke had agreed to help her. Oh, she knew who he was, even if he didn't go to her school; she went to every tennis match, boys or girls, that she heard about, to try and study them, to see what she was doing wrong, to see how to improve. And she'd seen how fast he'd taken down one of the best players on St. Rudolf's team. That had been a surprise, apparently to everyone involved. She wished she had a video of that match, to study how he did it.

Tonight, she simply served - what she was having problems with now - and he volleyed the balls back to her. "Wait," he called, and jogged around to her side of the court. "Try that last one again," he suggested. Sachi took a deep breath, and tried it again. "Hm."

"What?"

"Is that how your sensei said to hold the racket?"

"Yes."

He snorted softly. "Arai could teach better than this guy. Even Horio could do better," he muttered under his breath. "Okay. Here's the problem." Gently, he adjusted her grip, had her serve, then did it again. "There. Is that better?"

"It feels weird," she said, and served again.

"That looks better," he told her, and jogged back to the other side of the court. The rest of the time sped by as she got used to the hold on the racquet, used it enough for it to be ingrained in her muscles. By the time they were finished, she was sweating lightly, and felt like she'd accomplished something.

"Thank you again, Fuji-san," she said as they walked down the steps toward the bus stop.

"You are welcome," he said. "Your sensei does not seem to be helping you as much as he should."

She looked at him. "I know."

"Do you know why?" he asked.

"I think… it is because Atobe asked him not to." She laughed suddenly. "When I said I needed more help, he told me to get help from Atobe Keigo, and was even willing to give me his cell number."

"Was that before or after you came for help here?"

"Oh, after." She laughed again. "If Atobe had encouraged him the other way - to pay more attention to me - I might not need to meet you here twice a week."

"Don't say that too loud," he laughed. "He might hear you, and I enjoy teaching you to play."

"I enjoy learning from you," she said, still smiling. "I wouldn't stop even if he did."

"Good."

That one word was enough to make her smile even bigger.

And she needed that cheer through the next couple of lessons, as her sensei continued to ignore her. She left on Thursday night, smiling in some relief - at least Atobe wasn't spying on her that much!

"How are you so happy about this?" her friend Hoshino Akiko demanded as they left the club courts and headed for the locker room. "It's more blatant than ever!"

"I've got another lesson tonight," Sachi grinned. "Haven't you noticed? I'm getting better in spite of him." She gestured back toward the courts.

"So, who is your lesson with?" Akiko asked.

"A friend I met," she said, waving it off. "I'm going to the tournament this Saturday; want to come with?"

"Um… Yes. And I think I can. I'll talk to my parents and let you know, okay?"

"Okay."

The conversation moved on, and they were talking about the homework they still had to do when they left the club. Sachi caught sight of Atobe Keigo, and sighed. "Man, he's here?" She tugged on her friend's arm. "Let's go this way," she suggested, indicating they go away from their bus stop.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to talk to… Hi, Atobe-san," she said wearily as he approached. Akiko just stared.

"Are you dating Fuji Syusuke?" he asked.

Sachi blinked. "What?" she asked, utterly incredulous. "No," she said when he merely stared down at her, an accusing look in his eyes. "I'm not dating anyone, and I don't plan on dating anyone for a while. Forgive me, Atobe-san, but that is my bus." She grabbed Akiko's arm and dashed past him just in time to board, and sank down in a free seat, muttering under her breath.

"Who was that?" Akiko asked, craning her neck for a sight of the boy they'd just left behind.

"That was…." She hesitated, and glanced around. "That was Atobe Keigo," she said finally, deciding not to add her opinion of him. Let Akiko form her own, if she got the chance.

"He wants to date you."

"He can wait like everyone else. Besides, by the time I'm sixteen, he'll have his eye on someone else."

Akiko sighed. "How can you even consider not dating until you're sixteen?" she asked. "I can't even imagine that!"

"It means I can get a good start on my school work, without worrying about boys."

Akiko paused suddenly. "Um. Sachi. Who is… Fuji?"

Sachi felt her face flush and wished it didn't happen so easily. "He's my other tennis coach. The one who actually helps."

"But… who is he?"

"He's one of Seishun's starters. You've seen him; he's the one you keep mentioning never opens his eyes, the one they call tensai."

"Him?" Akiko nearly shrieked, staring at Sachi. After a moment, she blinked and then smiled in such a way that Sachi wished she were on the aisle so she could get away from her friend. "So. Does he ever open his eyes?"

"Yes," Sachi said, grinning at her. "Sometimes I surprise even him."

"And?"

"And what?"

Akiko sighed. "What color are his eyes?"

"Oh. Blue." She sighed and leaned against the side of the bus. "There aren't many people with eyes that blue."

Akiko snorted. "And you claim he doesn't affect you."

Sachi grinned at her friend. "I never claimed that," she said in a low voice. "I only said I wasn't dating anyone until I was sixteen."

"Did you tell him that?" Akiko asked.

"Yes."

"He asked you out and you turned him down?" Akiko said, incredulous.

"Pretty much," Sachi said.

"What about that… Atobe guy?" Akiko asked.

"What about him?" Sachi asked casually.

"Did you tell him?"

Sachi shrugged. "He never asked. All he said was "I always get what I want"." She rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah. Without a thought of what the other person might want." With a wave of her hand, she dismissed him. "Fuji-san hasn't said a word about it since." She smiled slightly, reaching to push the button to let them know her stop was coming up. "And I really appreciate it."

"You're distracted," Tezuka said, and Fuji, looking over the spectators, snapped to attention and looked up at him. "You're not paying attention."

The tournament had barely started; the second doubles hadn't even been called yet, although they would pretty soon. Fuji knew he had a little bit of time to find Sachi before he couldn't get over there to talk to her.

"I'm watching for someone." His eyes went over the crowd again. "And there she is. Excuse me, buchou, I must speak with her." He walked over to where he'd spotted Sachi and her friend. "I'm glad you came," he said, and she squeaked in surprise.

"Fuji-san!" she exclaimed, her cheeks pink. "I didn't see you!"

"I am sneaky," he said with a grin.

"You are very sneaky. Um. May I introduce my friend, Hoshino Akiko, this is Fuji Syusuke of the Seishun tennis team. My best friend," she said, and Fuji bowed.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," he said. "Yamashita-san, for today I want you to watch Momoshiro," he said, turning serious and opening his eyes just a little. "He knows that serve that was bothering you, and he uses it often."

She nodded. "And he is…?"

"The one talking to Ryoma."

"With the spiky hair?"

"Yes. Keep an eye on his serves."

"Thank you, Fuji-san," she said solemnly. "And good luck."

He smiled at her, absurdly pleased. "Thank you," he said, and went to join his teammates.

"Nya, Fuji, who is that?" Eiji asked as he joined them.

"A friend," Fuji said, and sat down on the bench nearby. Eiji sat next to him, barely containing his energy. "I've been helping her with her tennis. Her sensei is… incompetent," he spat. "She'd learn more if Horio taught her."

Eiji choked. "Are you serious?"

"Don't get me started," Fuji said, smiling.

"And you're just teaching her tennis?" Momo asked, sitting down on Fuji's other side.

"What's her name?" Eiji asked when Fuji didn't answer Momo.

"Yamashita Sachi. She studies at St. Rudolf's." He bent down to check his shoelaces, well aware of the glances that flew between his teammates, questioning ones about the girl - and certainly about Yuuta.

"Where did you meet her?" Eiji asked as Fuji straightened again.

"The street tennis court, a few weeks ago. She was looking for someone to help her get better."

"Are you dating her?" Momo asked.

Fuji's smile became a smirk. "No."

"No?" Eiji asked, astonished. "Why not?"

"She isn't interested in dating."

"You?" Eiji squeaked, even more surprised.

Fuji laughed. "At all," he said. "She's turned down Atobe from Hyotei twice a week for the last three."

They both turned to look at her, then back to Fuji. "That's strange," Eiji pronounced after a moment.

"Strange or not, it's helping," Fuji said with a shrug. "She's really getting better with her tennis."

He wondered - not for the first time - if there were a better place for them to meet, to save her the confrontation with Keigo. And he came to the same conclusion - as he had every time - that the street court was the best place for them to meet. Chances were even if they moved, Atobe would find them. He sighed and leaned back to concentrate on the match going before him.

At the end of it all, Fuji went back to Sachi, who was staring out over the court, her brow furrowed. Her friend seemed as preoccupied. "What are you thinking?" he asked, and she jumped at little, her cheeks coloring.

"I wish I'd had a better view," she admitted. "I could see some of what you meant, but…." She huffed angrily. "I couldn't… grasp it. He moved too fast. And I'll never have that power."

Fuji grinned. "I don't have that power," he said. "That's not what you should worry about. I'll see if I can break it down easier for you on Tuesday night."

"Okay." She smiled back. "I enjoyed your game," she said. "You looked like you were having fun."

"He was a challenge," Fuji admitted. It had been a satisfying game, all told. "If I wasn't having fun," he added, "I wouldn't be here."

She looked at him, her smile fading, then it returned, more brilliantly than ever, and he blinked in surprise. "Of course not," she said.

"Oi! Fuji!" Eiji called, and he cursed the other player in his head.

"I'll see you Tuesday," he said mildly, and turned away.

"Bye," she called, and he went to catch up with his teammates.

"So…," Eiji prompted, looking at him.

"What?" Fuji asked with perfect innocence, and chucked as Eiji rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Don't you ever get tired of saying that?" Atobe asked, almost gently.

Sachi rolled her eyes. "Yes. But some people are just dense and don't listen." She wrenched her arm free, sick of the whole thing. "Please. Leave me alone."

She turned away, stalked over to the benches, and pulled her racquet out of her bag. When she turned back to the court, she found he'd followed her. "What?!" she demanded. "Was I not clear enough?"

"Go out with me once, and I will leave you alone."

Sachi scoffed. "Not a chance of that happening. Just go away." She was beginning to wonder where Fuji was, actually. Usually he was here by now. She turned to sweep the empty courts with a glance before looking back at Atobe.

He smirked, which only made her angrier. "Your boyfriend…."

"Sensei, since you mentioned to Kondo-sensei that he should ignore me. What did you do to Fuji-san?"

He paused, a strange look on his face. "You're serious."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you assume everyone lies, like you assume everyone will do what you want? My parents taught me better than that. Where is Fuji-san?"

"Right here." He sounded furious and out of breath. "That was low, even for you, Atobe."

Sachi turned to him, dismissing the other boy without another thought. "Ah, Fuji-san," she said, and then her voice caught in her throat.

She'd never seen him look anything but well groomed, even after one of his games. But now, his brown hair was disheveled, his starter's jacket half unzipped, the top buttons of his shirt - well, gone. "Are you okay?" she finally managed to get out.

"Yes," he said, his eyes still on the boy behind her. "Thank you."

She shifted, uncomfortable, but she wanted to get rid of Atobe and everything associated with him as soon as possible. "Um. You were going to show me that serve?" she asked, and his blue eyes met her brown ones, finally. She caught a glimpse of how angry he was before he smiled, and his eyes closed again.

"Yes. Please." He gestured for her to precede him, and he followed her, leaving Atobe standing there, forgotten.

"It's like this," he said, and performed the serve.

Eyes narrowed, she watched, focusing on his tennis instead of him - which, all things considered, she'd much rather do.

"So, how was your lesson last night?" Akiko asked as she met Sachi one Wednesday morning before class some months later.

"I didn't have one," Sachi said, and covered her cheeks as she blushed.

"Oh?" Akiko's gaze sharpened. "Why not?"

"Because Syusuke took me to dinner."

Akiko's eyebrows went up. "Wait. He… Syusuke?" she stammered. Sachi went even redder, and hid her face from her friend. Akiko laughed low. "Did you have fun?"

Sachi took a deep breath and looked up again, her face still red. "Oh, yes," she breathed, and gave her friend a huge smile.

"You didn't tell me you were going on a date!" Akiko said.

"I didn't know!" Sachi protested. "It was a total surprise."

"Birthday present?" Akiko asked.

"Yeah," Sachi said. "It was lovely, too."

"Is he going to keep giving you lessons?"

"I hope so," Sachi said. "I'm getting so much better, between him and our new sensei at the club."

"Are you sure you need Fuji at all?"

Sachi laughed. "Not as much as I did, but I'm not going to stop meeting him now," she said.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Akiko said, and rolled her eyes. "You are hopeless."

"As if it would change just because I'm sixteen," Sachi said.

She wondered, though, what was going to happen on Thursday; she hadn't seen anything of Atobe the night before, since Syusuke (she giggled just thinking his name) had met her at her bus stop before she'd even gotten to the courts, early for the first time. And then, with a shrug, she dismissed it, thinking instead of the wonderful night - and the kiss Syusuke had given her at her door.

"I heard you went on a date instead of coming here," was Atobe's greeting as she walked onto the street tennis courts.

Sachi met his eyes. "Yes. It was something of a surprise," she said, and couldn't help the smile that curved her lips.

"You said you weren't dating him. What changed?" He sounded angry.

"I had a birthday." She moved around him to the benches, setting her bags down to get a racquet from her bag. When she turned around, he looked confused.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Oh," she said casually, twirling the racquet like she'd seen one of the Seishun's regulars do it, "everything."

His eyes narrowed, then further at Syusuke's call of "Oi! Sachi-chan!"

She looked up and waved. "Syusuke-kun. You're late today," she teased as he walked up to her.

"I was early last time. Can't do it again; Tezuka-buchou nearly took my head off yesterday for skipping off early." He set his bag down, pulling a racquet out. "So, what's for tonight?"

"Practice," she said. "We're having an in-class tournament on Saturday, and I just need to play a little."

"Sounds good," he said. "You serve?"

"Thanks."

She was aware of their observer; it was something of a surprise that Atobe hadn't left already.

It was a huge surprise that he still bothered her like this. She was sure he'd have lost his interest in her months ago, but apparently not. She shook her head and went after a particularly tricky shot Syusuke sent her way. She hit it back to him, but barely. One day, she'd actually win a point off him without him letting her do it.

One day.

"Oh. Pardon me."

The voice of the man who'd nearly run into him in the main lobby was vaguely familiar, and Atobe Keigo stopped for a moment, struggling to remember who it was. It took only a moment. "Fuji Syusuke?" he asked, and the other man turned, still smiling as he had all through junior and senior high.

"Yes?" Recognition was nearly as fast as his own had been. "Atobe Keigo," he said, and bowed.

The years had been good to the other man, although it seemed fate had not. His clothes were in good shape but shabby, his shoes scuffed in spite of the polish on them. He wore a badge of his father's company, although it was half hidden in his jacket, so Keigo didn't know exactly what position the other held.

"If you'll excuse me, I must catch the bus," Fuji said after a moment of silence, and Keigo snapped back to attention.

"May I take you home?"

From Fuji's expression, it was not what he'd expected. "If you so wish," he said after a moment.

"Please."

The ride was quiet. It seemed his companion couldn't get comfortable, but he hid it well. "Do you still play tennis?" Keigo asked after a moment.

"Yes," Fuji said, and his normal smile softened a little. "Weekends. I teach in the summer, as well."

"And you enjoy it?"

"Very much."

"Does Sachi still take lessons from you?"

The smile softened still further. "Sometimes," Fuji said. "She's good enough to give them herself, though, so it isn't often."

He wondered how Fuji had kept in touch with her; he knew they hadn't gone to the same University, but he'd lost track of them both while he was studying abroad. "What do you do for my father?"

"I work in science department," Fuji said. "Mostly as an assistant."

The stretch limo stopped, and Keigo looked out.

The apartment building was old and dirty. He was sure the driver had taken them to the wrong address, but Fuji got out when the driver opened the door. "Thank you for the ride," he said, looking back in.

And suddenly, Keigo was curious. "May I come up for moment?"

Fuji hesitated, and only then did Keigo see the ring on his hand. He blinked, surprised. "Certainly," Fuji said, and backed up to let him out.

The elevator didn't look like it would work, but it lurched upwards after a particularly ominous pause. They were silent, but Keigo could feel the anticipation in his companion as the car drew closer to the right floor.

The hallway was well lit at least, and it seemed someone had made an attempt to keep it clean. Fuji stopped before a doorway, and for some reason made a great production of unlocking the door.

He understood as it opened to shouts of "Papa's home! Papa's home!" and two little girls with long, dark hair ran to hug him. Fuji gathered them up in a hug before setting the oldest down. "Tell Mama we have a guest," he said to her, and took his shoes off. "Please, come in." The little girl ran off to report to her mother.

Keigo did the same, putting on the slippers offered him (so worn he would have thrown them away a long time ago), and followed Fuji - who still carried his youngest - into the main room.

He looked around the small room. It was well lit, and Fuji's wife did a good job keeping the place clean. The floor was polished, the furniture worn, and he could tell that almost everything they had was second hand, or hand made. But there was an air of comfort and cheer that he found relaxing. He sat down next to Fuji on the couch. "How long have you worked for my father?" he asked.

"Since I graduated from University," Fuji said. The smaller girl sat quietly in his lap, staring up at Keigo with blue eyes much like her father's.

"So, six years?"

"Yes. As of September."

Keigo nodded slowly. "How long…."

"I'm sorry to make you wait," a familiar voice said gently, interrupting unconsciously. "I wasn't expecting you home so soon."

He looked around in surprise, and barely kept himself from staring as the woman set a tea tray down on the table. She poured and gave him the cup, and froze momentarily. "Atobe-san," she said, and bowed.

He was stunned. She hadn't changed much; she was still slender, delicate, and beautiful. The years had been good to her, too. "Fuji Sachi," he said softly as she straightened and poured a second cup for her husband.

"It is good to see you, Atobe-san," she said. "Please, excuse me." She bowed again before leaving the room.

Keigo turned to Fuji, eyes narrowed. "You didn't tell me you'd married her."

Fuji shrugged slightly. "I thought you knew," he said quietly. "You always knew everything else." He set the smaller girl down and she toddled out of the room. "I'm sorry it was such a surprise."

He took a deep breath and sipped at the tea; it was what his father gave to his employees with their Christmas bonus, and was probably the best they had. "I'm sorry, it's probably not what you're used to," Fuji said, although he looked like he enjoyed it.

"I think... I will not impose upon you any longer," Keigo said, and rose to his feet. Fuji followed him to the door.

"It was good to see you again," he said softly, and it sounded even like he meant it.

The moment the door opened, both little girls were back in the room in spite of their mother's attempts to call them back. She didn't appear. "No," Fuji said gently as they implored him not to go. "I'm not going anywhere."

"It was good to see you, too," Keigo said. "Good-bye."

He settled back into the seat of his limo and poured himself a drink to rid him of the taste of that tea, wondering how he'd missed that Fuji Syusuke was working for his father, and that he'd married Yamashita Sachi long enough ago that their oldest daughter was at least four years old. He sipped for a moment, trying to figure out what it was he was feeling. He'd arrived home and settled in his room with his favorite tea before he figured it out.

He was jealous. Jealous of the man with a tiny apartment, who was so poor he had to teach tennis on the weekends just to keep afloat…. Who had a wife who loved him enough to keep the tiny apartment full of love, and who had given him two beautiful little girls. His head fell back to rest on the back of his chair and sighed. His rooms felt suddenly cold, and he wished he could go back to the warmth of that place.

Glossary (I hope I got them all!):
buchou: Captain
tensai: prodigy

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