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Entry tags:	40_loves, an fanfiction, ayame fanfiction

Themes 14, 16, 22

Title: What I knew About You
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Atobe Keigo/Kamiya Ayame (OC), Tachibana An
Claim: Prince of Tennis General Series
Prompt: #14 Winter
Word Count: 1904
Rating: G
Summery:  He realized he knew nothing about her and that looks could be deceiving.

“Kamiya.”

Ayame jumped, startled at the sudden, authoritative voice that came from directly behind her.  Twirling with awkward grace, she came face to face with Atobe Keigo, or rather she came face to chest with Atobe Keigo, since he was quite a bit taller than she was.  “Ara?” she replied in confusion, tilting her head back to look up at him.

It was not every day that Atobe called out to her in public.  Actually, it was never that he did that, and the freak occurrence unnerved her more than she would have liked.  Alarm spiked through her and she nervously glanced around for a possible escape route.  She wasn’t even aware that Atobe knew of her existence.  So she was once the manager of the National Champion Seigaku tennis club?  At the time he had been trying to defeat said tennis club, and since then, though their paths crossed fairly often, he hadn’t done anything to suggest that he knew of her beyond her capacity as manager for a rival team.

Which made him seeking her out in the middle of the street tennis courts that much more strange.

“We’re going on a date.”

He was completely serious.  There was no malicious humor in his face, and only a touch of haughty arrogance.  It wasn’t like when he demanded a date from An, where he knew she would say no and so never took it seriously.  He was actually asking her out.

Completely unsettled now, Ayame shuffled the few rocks that rolled along the pavement under her feet.  How did one say no to Atobe Keigo?  She wasn’t An… An had been telling him no for years.  He had never even looked at her!  Was she supposed to feel grateful?  Elated that the great Hyotei captain had deigned to place his attention on her?  Was it some kind of joke, some bizarre form of revenge for something Seigaku had done in the past?  String the manager along and break her heart… then have a merry little laugh?

Well there was no way she was going to be party to something like that.  Her self-esteem was shaky enough without being completely destroyed by the whims of one attractive boy.  “Um, thank you Atobe-san, but-”

“I wasn’t asking.” He said abruptly, cutting her off.  One of his hands reached out to grab her arm and he began dragging her along to the exit of the park.

“But I was-”

“Atobe!  Take your hands off her you jerk!”

An had caught sight of the pair, and wasted no time dropping her game to come to her best friend’s defense.  Atobe barely spared a glance for her, continuing on his merry way, as if he wasn’t kidnapping someone.  “Go away Tachibana.  Kabaji.”

As if summoned out of nowhere, the very large boy appeared directly in An’s path, blocking any and all access to Ayame.  Ayame could only watch helplessly as the park disappeared up the stairs they were traveling down.  No one else came to her defense, probably because it had happened so fast.  An had only noticed because their path had taken them right along the baseline of her court.

Now completely captured, Ayame gave up trying to struggle (not that she had been struggling very much) but continued to drag her feet, more out of necessity to control the pace than anything.  “Atobe-san, please slow down.  I don’t do well with strenuous physical activity.”

Glancing down at her, he saw that she was completely serious and slowed his pace accordingly.  He did not relinquish his hold.

Ayame was used to being dragged around.  An dragged her, Eiji dragged her, even occasionally Inui and Oishi dragged her.  But she was unused to being seen practically on the arm of someone like Atobe.  The few people on the street whispered as they passed, some giggling, some staring incredulously. Ayame felt acutely embarrassed, and not a bit slighted at the insinuation in the glances.  Like he was better than she was.

Gathering her courage, which was not all that hard to gather seeing that she was getting rather annoyed with his silence, she said stiffly, “Atobe-san, has anyone informed you that you are supposed to ask a girl on a date, instead of abducting her randomly without warning?”

Surprised, Atobe stopped, looking down at her and blinking.  “What?”

Encouraged, Ayame continued.  “Or maybe people have informed you and you just weren’t listening.  You’re supposed to ask so that the girl has a chance to decide whether or not she wants to go out with you.”  Which is probably why he doesn’t ask, she thought with some amusement.  “Taking liberties isn’t going to win you any fans.”

“Are you lecturing me?” He asked skeptically, eyes narrowing.

She was, though she hadn’t meant it as a lecture.  Instead, she used the words as a defense, so that she wouldn’t feel nervous or afraid.  So that she wouldn’t have to think about why he was dragging her out on a date.  Coughing, she looked away, cheeks tinged with pink.  “Sorry, but you kind of have it coming.  Someone needs to tell you when you’re being… well, a jerk.”

After staring at her a few seconds, he snorted, dropping her arm to shove his hand inside his pants pockets.  “That’s what An-chan is for,” he said, a small, arrogant smile playing along his lips.  Looking at her, a new light entered his eyes, making Ayame wonder even more what it was all about.  “Come on Kamiya.”

 

--

 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He wasn’t supposed to like her.

What had started as a way to alleviate his boredom, as well as a way to get back at Tachibana An for ignoring him for two years, had become something else entirely.  The girl he had always overlooked for being mousy and shy, was completely different underneath her exterior.  She was opinionated and strong willed, but quiet about it.  She was tactful, and avoided hurting people’s feelings wherever possible.  There was a sort of sweet, unassuming charm about her, and while she would never be as attractive as he was, she was pretty in her own way.

A paradox surrounded her, and at every turn he found himself finding out something new.  She was quiet, yes, but she could also be loud and animated when she was excited about something.  She was demure and would be led easily, but she was also passionate and stubborn.  She would be led only to a certain point, and she would fight if she thought it necessary.

She was so many things that he hadn’t expected.

Once he thought about it, however, he realized that she had to be more than she appeared to be what she was to the Seigaku team.  Intelligent and strategic, she was aware of the subtleties of the sport, from careful wrist movements to play styles.  His new insight into the mousy girl made him wonder just how much of an effect she had had on that team two years prior.  How much of their victory was due to her skills?

She would never be a tennis player – she would never be an athlete.  She was ridiculously fragile.  But she was smart, and her mental capacity made up for her inability to perform physically.  She knew every theory, every play, she could see the nuances in a players body and know what they were doing wrong and why.  She had even gave him a few hints on how to improve his game.  His game was perfect – until she pointed things out that he had never noticed.

He should have paid more attention to her back when it mattered.  She wasn’t quite the mouse he had believed her.  One had to be strong to be the backbone of a team, and he could see now that she was.  Even Tezuka had valued her opinion, and that said a world about her.

Thus what had started as a way to cure boredom became a genuine want.  He liked spending time with her.  Their first date had flown by, though it had started slow.  Once she recognized that he wasn’t playing some nasty trick on her (and though he was, sort of, he never got the chance), she began talking to him and he discovered that she was not boring or dull.

She wasn’t like any of the girls he had dated in the past.  There was not an insipid bone in her body.  She didn’t try to play coy.  She didn’t flatter him endlessly because she thought he wanted to hear it (and prior to this girl, he had).  She wasn’t a fangirl, nor was she in awe of his power or skills.  She giggled and blushed, but it was unaffected and sincere.

She listened, and replied, debated and gave advice.  She never let him talk down to her, or bad mouth her friends, and she never took his egotism seriously.  This was slightly annoying at first – he was, and always would be, superior, but when she simply laughed at him, he slowly became acclimatized to it.

He surprised himself by asking her out again, and he asked her this time.  He did it away from anyone, so he wouldn’t have to be forced to fend off the protective gestures of her friends.  Ayame surprised them both by agreeing.

Two dates turned into four, which turned into a month, and eventually into a steady relationship.  Being who he was, he never spoke to her of being his girlfriend, but she was sensitive enough to pick up on it, and since she never said anything to the contrary, he assumed that she was happy with the arrangement. 

It was a year and a half into their relationship that he realized that he loved the small, mousy girl from Seigaku.  And then it only happened because she had gone away for a term with a group from her school – coincidently several of the old Seigaku team, and Tachibana An – on an exchange.  She wrote him, and called him, but the time she was away was more difficult than he would ever admit to anyone.

He had tried to break it off.  He told himself and anyone that would listen that she was just a distraction and that he wasn’t particularly attached to her.  His parents had smiled and nodded, his friends had shook their heads in disbelief.  He dated other girls (without her knowing of course), but all of them were uninteresting, and frankly stupid.  They weren’t good enough for him.  He didn’t want them.

The problem was that he had come to depend on her.  His attitude had a way of getting away from him and pushing people away.  She grounded him, and though he lost none of his arrogance or superiority, with her at least, he wasn’t allowed to consume himself in himself.

When he hopped on a plane without a word to anyone and flew to America during winter holidays, no one was surprised except for Ayame.  He swaggered when he showed up on the front porch of her host family, owning every step he walked, his eyes gazing around the two story structure in apparent disgust.  Ayame appeared behind the screen of the house, mouth open in surprise.

“Kamiya.”

“Ara?” She replied, shocked and confused.

Atobe smiled, a wide arrogant smile and tilted his head.  “We’re going home.”

Title: The Plan
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Tachibana An/Oshitari Yuushi
Claim: Prince of Tennis General Series
Prompt: #16 Autumn
Word Count: 215
Rating: PG
Summery:  An had a plan.  Could she help it if it wasn’t exactly clear on the details?

An’s plan was simple.  Talk to the boy.  Date the boy.  Possibly marry the boy.  Of course, since she was only in junior high school, the whole marriage plan was a little far-fetched, but not completely unattainable or unrealistic.  An liked to think she was at least a realist.

When questioned by her best friend on the details of the plan, An simply replied, “I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

And so that was exactly what she did.

One day, in late Autumn, while at the street courts, she had marched right up to him and, standing on her tip-toes, kissed him right in front of all his friends and hers – and many people neither of them knew. 

Of course, being that he was Oshitari Yuushi, he was too smart to act surprised, even when she chirped grinning, “Where are we going on our date, Yuushi-kun?”

It was an extremely forward course of action, and one that not even she would dare normally, but it was the only thing she could think of on the fly.  Her plan had never been exceedingly detailed anyway. 

And besides, it was worth it simply to see all the shocked and flabbergasted expressions on the other boys of the tennis part – particularly one Atobe Keigo.

.

Title: Alone
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Kamiya Ayame (OC)/Fuji Syusuke, brief Inui Sadaharu
Claim: Prince of Tennis General Series
Prompt: #22 Bed
Word Count: 1,808
Rating: PG
Summery:  He had waited three years to get her truly alone.

“Would I lie to you?”

“Yes,” was Ayame’s instant response and she didn’t feel guilty for it.  Her flush was bright, and her nerves pronounced, but there was a stubborn set to her jaw.  She wasn’t going to back down.  “If you felt the need.”

Fuji continued smiling his usual smile, admiring the way her violet eyes were filled with distrust.  It didn’t hurt that she didn’t trust him in this – she trusted him in everything else, everything that mattered.  And she was so adorable when her jaw was clenched and her face blushing.  “Ame-chan, please sit on the bed.  It’s not going to bite.”

It wasn’t the bed she was worried about, it was the boy who owned the bed.  Especially when all parental figures were absent from the house and the siblings were away at school.  Especially when she had never even seen the inside of his room prior to this occasion.  “You never explained why it was so urgent that I come over…”

Amusement growing, Fuji only smiled back.  “Ara?  Did I say it was urgent?”  Raising a finger he scratched the side of his face, angling his eyebrows to seem embarrassed.  “I thought maybe we’d watch a movie.”

Knowing calculating when she saw it, Ayame took a step towards the door.  “You did say it was urgent… I was in the middle of my homework.”

“Is that so?” Casually, he took a step to the side, effectively blocking the only escape route.  The increasing nerves in her fed his amusement and Fuji’s smile darkened a bit.  “I’m sorry if I mislead you.”

No you’re not! Ayame thought uncharitably, cheeks puffing in frustration.  He was purposely blocking the door, making escape impossible.  If her calculations were correct he would start herding her towards the bed soon. 

His new found amorous mood made the situation even more awkward.  She had known him to be kind when he wanted to, and protective towards her, but he had never shown romantic interest before.  It was embarrassing being alone with him in his bedroom, the door closed and all but barricaded.  They weren’t even dating!

It was improper and he knew it!

“Ame-chan is cute when she’s flustered.”

The soft words ruffled her bangs as Ayame suddenly found her personal space being encroached upon.  Her assumptions had been correct!  He was trying to get her on the bed.  But why?

Fuji hummed to himself, tempted to back off a bit for fear of her health.  She was as stiff as a board and her body was practically thrumming with nerves.  Her breathing was changing, becoming erratic even as her face overheated.  It was not his intention to set of a panic-induced asthma attack.

Still, if he moved out of her space she would be gone in a flash, scared away by his sudden interest in her.  He should tell her that the interest wasn’t sudden, that it had been blooming for three years.  He had watched her grow from a shy, awkward fourteen year old to a graceful, intelligent seventeen year old.  He saw her strength solidify with her confidence, and admired her all the more for it.

He should tell her that he was simply biding his time.

But he didn’t.  That would ruin the fun of the whole thing, and by that point she should have figured out that he wanted more than friendship from her anyway.

“It’s just a movie, Ame-chan.”

The way he kept saying her nickname was distracting – almost as distracting as his breath on her temple or the hands that hovered over her arms.  She refused to budge, however.  She would not be cornered into the situation of his choosing – bullied until he got what he wanted without any regard to her feelings on the matter.  Fuji could be mean spirited and he liked to dominate in his quiet way.  She hadn’t known him for three years and not realized the malicious streak he had in him or the way he liked to watch others, especially friends, squirm. 

She was stronger than she was when she was a second year middle school student.  Stronger than having to depend on him and the rest of the boys tennis team for strength.  She didn’t need to be protected anymore, or coddled, and she wasn’t in the least intimidated by Fuji Syusuke!

Liar, chanted a voice in her head.  She was incredibly intimidated by him.  He was handsome and talented and smart.  He was a genius in his way.  One would be a fool not to be intimidated by him.

Putting that aside, she knew very well it wasn’t just a movie he wanted.  If it had been they would have been seated in the living room, two feet part, with popcorn or something equally as innocuous between them, and probably not alone.  Instead they were ensconced in his room, and though there was a TV present, there was nowhere to sit but his bed and the floor, and either place would mean being closer to him than strictly proper for people who weren’t dating.

Luckily for her, her cellphone chose that moment to ring and Ayame nearly sighed in relief.  The tension in the room had grown palpable and she was struggling to breathe within it.  Now she could step back without losing ground, since she had to fish her phone out of the pocket of her jeans.  “Hello?” she answered, turning away from the honey blond young man.  “Ah! How are you?”

Fuji was not going to be defeated by a phone.  The distraction dredged up irritation in him and he frowned. He didn’t like being dismissed, especially not when they were in the middle of something.

Eyes cracking open, Fuji stepped back into her space, lining his body up with hers so that his chest was pressed along the length of her back and his chin hovered to the side of her head.  Reaching up, he plucked the phone away from her ear and set it against his own, his familiar mask slipping over his face once more.  “Hello?”

“Fuji?”

Inui’s deep voice echoed through the receiver returning the frown to Fuji’s face.  “Mm, Inui.  Ame-chan is in the middle of something, she will have to call you back.”

“Na?”

Without waiting for a proper response, Fuji hit the ‘end’ button and held it, turning off the phone.  “It isn’t nice to ignore people, Ame-chan,” he murmured, tossing the phone on his dresser some feet away.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Ayame cried, whirling on him despite the confined space between them.  If at all possible her flush grew brighter in her anger and Fuji found it even more attractive.  He liked the way her eyes snapped at him, an expression she rarely got.  “You can’t just hang up on people!”

She really couldn’t believe him.  He got pushy when things didn’t go his way, but usually he was not so outwardly rude.  He wasn’t known for hanging up on people, in fact, generally he listened with a good deal of empathy.  What was wrong with him?

Fuji tilted his head, gazing down at her through his mostly closed eyes.  “You should keep that in mind yourself,” he returned, crowding her again.

Huffing, Ayame met his gaze.  “I had to answer the phone, I was expecting that call and you-”

“Ayame.”

The new tone in his voice, coupled with the use of her full name, stilled Ayame and cut her off abruptly.  She hadn’t noticed the shadow take over his face, or the suddenly dangerous aura he only got when he got serious about something – an exceedingly rare occurrence.  But in that moment she saw all of those things and wondered what she had done that had irritated him so badly.

“I don’t want to share you with anyone today.”

The meaning of his words hit her like a slap to the face.  The meaning was significantly augmented by the fact that he had wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him once more.  Somewhere between terrified and euphoric, Ayame gaped, her mouth falling open and her skin burning like a wild fire.

“I want to watch a movie with my Ame-chan.  Alone.  With no interruptions.”

Unmistakable possession marked the rumbling words and Ayame felt her entire body heat and melt into him.  She had always wanted to be held as she was, to be wanted as he apparently wanted her.  She just had never thought it would come from him.

His unusual bluntness was offsetting, but as she thought about it, wrapped in his arms, she supposed she had forced it on him.  She hadn’t been very bright when it came to his sudden advances.  She had assumed, perhaps foolishly, that he was playing some kind of game with her.

But there was no playing in his face, no game in his voice.  He wasn’t trying to make her uncomfortable or skittish (at least not too much, and not terribly intentionally).  He was simply telling her how he felt about her in an unpredictable, classically Fuji way.

Fuji saw the sudden awareness on her face.  He watched as it dawned on her what was going on and his body became even more conscious of hers when her eyes took on a lidded, smoky quality of a woman that was waiting to be kissed.   The want was there, and he picked up on it easily, as if it had been his own want.  She had always shown particular attention to him, and he had always known that there was a part of her heart that was reserved for him and him alone.  There were never any other men, and there never would be if he had anything to say about it.

It was time to collect that piece of her heart.

With exaggerated care, he lowered his lips towards hers, gradually taking them over and enveloping them too in his embrace.  He tasted her, savored it, and kissed her like it was the last time instead of the first.  Ayame gave in instantly, letting him take her over without anymore fight, perfectly satisfied with the impropriety of being alone in his room being kissed into mush by him.  Caution didn’t seem to matter anymore.

Parting, he lingered millimeters from her mouth, allowing their breaths to mingle intimately.  “You can work later, na Ame-chan?” He whispered.

“W-work?”  So distracted, hoping he would kiss her again, she failed to comprehend what he was saying.

His smile made the next kiss taste sweeter somehow, and Ayame was so consumed by it that she found herself pressed against the mattress of his bed without noticing the transition.  Her former distrust fled the moment her back hit the comforter and in that instant she knew she could trust him no matter what he did – even if he would lie to her if he thought it necessary.

.