Entry tags:

40_loves, ayame fanfiction

33

Title: First Impressions III
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Kamiya Ayame (OC)/Yagyuu Hiroshi, Tachibana An/Sanada Genichirou, Yukimura Seiichi
Claim: Prince of Tennis General Series
Prompt: #33 Silence
Word Count: 4,486
Rating: PG
Summery:  Ayame had a knack for making fairly negative first impressions.  This one was just another in a long list.

It was a week and a half before Ayame worked up the courage to make the journey to the tennis courts.  She had been discharged from the hospital the day after her attack, and once her father had ascertained that she wasn’t dying or in danger of dying, he had sent her right back to school two days after she got home.

But approaching boys that had saved your life, attractive, popular boys, at that, proved to be difficult for Ayame.  An asked her every day if she had gone to thank them, and every day Ayame had had to confess that her courage was lacking as of late.  An never once offered to go with her, and Ayame wasn’t sure how to feel about that.  She might have worked herself up to it sooner if An had have offered to come with her right away, but then it was hard to say.  Every time she thought about it her throat burned and her stomach began an acrobatic display that rivaled even Kikumaru Eiji.

Finally, however, it was An that pushed the whole thing forward.  Exclaiming that Ayame was going to do it, even if An herself had to drag her to the tennis courts, the dark blond had proceeded to do just that.  Ayame struggled for the first leg of the journey.  An being there or not, she did not want to face those young men.  She didn’t want to face the embarrassment that she knew would accompany it.

Yet she didn’t fight nearly as hard as she could have.  Every day since her discharge, the innocent yellow daffodils stared at her accusingly from her nightstand, where she had kept them in her room at home, and in her dorm room.  They told her she was a coward and that she could hardly consider herself a respectable human being if she couldn’t even thank people who had saved her life.

At the same time they warmed her heart.  That they had taken time from their tennis schedule to come to the hospital and give them to her meant a great deal to Ayame, and she was truly honored for it.  Part of her was disappointed that she hadn’t been awake for it.  After all, it would have solved this whole problem.  On the other hand, she couldn’t imagine what she would have said to them, or they to her.

By the second leg of the journey, Ayame had resigned herself to the confrontation about to happen.  Her face already ablaze, she followed meekly behind An as the girl trudged forward in determination.  Silently, Ayame wondered if anything fazed An.  Of course, it wasn’t her that had made a fool of herself and had had to be rescued because of it.

The familiar sound of tennis balls hitting rackets and concrete hit them before the courts came into sight.  Normally, it was a comforting sound, one that was reassuring and strengthening.  Now, however, it only served to make her knees weak and her heart pound.

Why was it so difficult to face them – to face him?  Yes, she had done something stupid and embarrassing and yes he had had to rescue her, but sometimes that happened.  She didn’t remember feeling quite so embarrassed when Seigaku had come across her in a similar position. Fuji had even fished out her inhaler for her! 

But he hadn’t held her as she struggled to breathe.  He hadn’t spoken to her in a low, soothing yet commanding voice.  He most certainly hadn’t put his hand on her chest and touched her in an intimate manner.

Perhaps that was why she was struggling so much with the whole thing.  Even if he was saving her life, intimate contact was awkward – he wasn’t even her friend!  But he was very attractive, she had always thought so.  There was something infinitely unsettling about being touched by an attractive male.  Especially when you knew that male would never see you as anything other than that girl he saved.

Good looking guys just didn’t pay attention to her in that way.  She had been surrounded by them in Seigaku, and though they all loved her in their own ways, it wasn’t in the way she, and most girls her age craved. 

An was always the one that garnered that sort of attention.  An was beautiful, lively and smart and she drew male attention better than most idol singers.  Especially if that male attention belonged to tennis players.  Next to her best friend, Ayame was mousy and small.  She had never made any attempt to appear more attractive (although, neither did An particularly), and she was always over looked.  Her glasses hid her most attractive feature, her eyes, and even her cute, tiny pigtails hadn’t made any headway as far as boys were concerned.

New, stylish black-framed glasses and a more sophisticated hair-style (shoulder length, straight and side-parted) hadn’t done much to change the situation.  No matter what An said, Ayame knew she would always be the mousy one – it was her lot in life.  And that was fine.  She was secure with just her intelligence, and she knew for a fact she wasn’t ugly.  She just wished that even once, a cute, preferably tennis playing, guy would notice.

Before Ayame knew it, they were standing in the bleachers surrounding the tennis courts, watching the tennis club run various drills.  They were in the middle of practice, and Ayame did not want to interrupt them, and so she tugged An to a seated position.  Unhappy with the idea, An nevertheless sat beside her friend.  Rightfully suspicious, she had a feeling that it was all an excuse, but she couldn’t object because at least Ayame hadn’t tried to flee.

Ayame had been sorely tempted to.

They sat and watched the practice, unnoticed for the most part, which was fine for Ayame.  Having them stop practice on their account would have been humiliation she couldn’t stand.  At least this way she could gradually get used to the idea of facing them – him – down.

Her eyes found her rescuer amidst the other players of the club.  His movements were graceful and flowing, but powerful as he rallied with a boy she thought was Yanagi Renji.  The sun glinted off his glasses, obscuring his eyes, but she could see the determination set in his face, as well as the calculation and the thought put behind each and every move he made.  His movement wasn’t flawless, there were a couple of points she could see that with minor correcting, would increase his speed and power, but it was close and spoke of a quiet talent that others sometimes overlooked.

Ayame watched him for a long time, engrossed in the beauty of motion and play that he embodied.  Eventually, however, An’s not-so-subtle clearing of her throat forced Ayame to tear her eyes away from him.  Her gaze roamed over the club, surveying each for a hint of recognition.  All the regular members of the former middle school team were there, and all were practicing in top form.  They’re going to be difficult to beat, Ayame thought absently, her gaze finally settling on the lithe, almost feminine form of the second year captain.

He was flying, or so it seemed.  The last time she watched him play had been the same, and the same sense of awe ran over her.  His play was flawless, each movement necessary.  It was impressive.  The way he stutter-stepped on occasion, and the fact that he was neither sweating, nor breathing heavily told her that he was holding back on his opponent, which was probably just as well, since the opponent in question seemed to be a miscellaneous club member.  Ayame felt a trifle bad for the boy – there was nothing like playing a player of Yukimura’s quality to make you feel worthless and inept.

Beside Ayame, An was shifting impatiently.  It wasn’t that she wanted to get the whole thing over with, rather it was more that she knew the longer the time passed, the higher the chance her friend would chicken out and try to disappear.  Thus, when Sanada stopped practicing and strode over to the benches where water bottles and towels were stacked – which were, conveniently, not fifteen feet from where they were seated – An called out, waving slightly as she did so.  “Sanada-kun!”

Sanada looked up, towel halfway to his face.  He showed no reaction, even as the dark red-blond dragged her friend down the bleachers toward them.  Almost mechanically, he took his hat off and swiped the towel over his forehead and face, watching the girls’ progress as he did so.  “What do you want?” He said as soon as they were within earshot. 

An ignored the way he looked at them, eyes cold and unrecognizing.  She knew he was aware of who they were, and he probably had a pretty good idea what they wanted.  “We came by to thank you,” she smiled prettily at the tall vice-captain.  “For your help the other day.  Didn’t we Ame-chan?”

Ayame stumbled forward on An’s tug, embarrassment stinging the back of her throat.  Straightening herself, Ayame bowed stiffly, her arm still in the vice grip of her friend’s hand.  “Th-thank you, Sanada-san.”

Sanada refrained from mentioning that the other day had been almost two weeks before.  An’s smile was enough to have him grunting a response and giving them a nod of recognition.  His hazel gaze lingered on the strawberry blond briefly before moving away to look at the sun.

At An’s rough yank, Ayame squeezed her eyes shut and composed herself again.  “A-and, thank y-you, for the flowers.”  The words felt as if they were pressed out of her, and they almost lodged in her throat.  He’s so intimidating!  How can An just stand there and smile, as if he isn’t glaring at us?

“That was Yagyuu and Yukimura,” Sanada said firmly, looking back at them slowly.

Of course it was.  Ayame highly doubted that Sanada would have even thought of it.  She probably ceased existing the moment the stretcher carted her away.  “Ah well, tha-thank you all the same.”

An noticed Ayame’s nervous stammer was getting a bit better, and decided it was time for the final push.  Boys, the kind she wanted, would never notice her if she wasn’t at least a little more assertive.  “Why don’t you go thank them Ame-chan?  Practice seems to be on break, so they probably have some time.”

Ayame made a squeaky sort of noise in the back of her throat.  “Wh-what about you?”

The other girl’s smile was mischievous as she turned away from Ayame to Sanada once more.  “Sanada-kun and I are going to have a chat.”

Ayame could see what he thought of that idea, but he didn’t actually voice his feelings, nor did he turn and walk away like she expected him to.  That left her with nothing to do but do as An suggested.  Sighing, Ayame clamored over the wall separating the bleacher from the courts with only a glance at Sanada for permission.  He wasn’t even paying attention to her – his attention was focused on An who was now chattering at him like they were childhood friends.

A quick survey around her told her that Yukimura was closer to her, and that Yagyuu had not finished playing his set.  Squaring her shoulders and taking a big breath in, Ayame paced furtively towards the Rikkai captain, just as he was seating himself on one of the benches that lined the courts.

Yukimura saw her coming and smiled in welcome.  He didn’t get up, instead shifting over and motioning for her to sit down beside him.  Flustered, Ayame obeyed, but only because she wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to do.  She had only planned on quickly bowing and thanking him for the thoughtful gift, before moving on.  Her goal was to get it all over with as soon as possible so that she could return to her dorm and sulk off the embarrassment. 

“You’re looking well,” Yukimura said conversationally when she didn’t speak right away.

“Th-thank you,” Ayame replied, grasping the edge of her skirt rightly.  “And thank you… for the flowers I mean.  They are very pretty, and I… I really appreciated them.”

It had sounded much more refined in her head.  She had gone over and over what she was going to say to them in the week and a half since the incident.  All of those ways had seemed so much more… mature? Sophisticated?  All around better?  Now she sounded like the stuttering, nervous schoolgirl she was.

His gaze was kind and his smile warm, not at all like the tennis captain she had seen leading his team in the nationals years before.  He wore ease like a glove now, relaxed and comfortable in her presence, even as she was a wreck.  “You’re welcome,” he said softly, leaning forward and resting his weight against his knees.  “I’m glad they made you feel better.”

They had and they hadn’t.  On one hand, the thought was sweet, and it did mean a lot to her that they had given them to her.  On the other hand, the pretty flowers had been the source of much woe in the past week and a half.  A reminder of her embarrassment.

“Although I admit to having come up with the idea, it was Yagyuu that picked them out.”

“Eh?” Ayame blinked at him, suddenly even more flustered. 

Yukimura’s smile became knowing, irking her right along with the twinkle in his eyes.  “Why don’t you wait here?  I’m sure he would appreciate your thanks as much as I did.”

There was mischief in the captain’s tone, but Ayame had no chance to get a word in edgewise.  As soon as he spoke he was standing and gone, striding across the court, hands tucked in his pockets, looking completely at ease with himself and his surroundings.  Ayame watched under her bangs as he walked up to Yagyuu and spoke quietly to him, saying more than was necessary to let him know she wanted to thank him.  Yagyuu turned his gaze from his captain to her after a few moments and nodded briefly, before starting towards her.

His pace was casual, and to Ayame it seemed to drag on forever.  If he was moving slow for effect, it was working, because it was having an undue effect on her.  The more seconds that passed, the warmer she became, and the more she wanted to wring her hands.  Seeing him brought back the painful memories of the attack, except that the pain was gone and all she could feel was his solid frame behind her, his hand on her chest and his voice in her ear.

 Inside she was all girl – a giggling mush of femininity that would probably melt at his feet before talking to him.  Outside, however, she was stiff and frozen.  Her teeth caught her bottom lip and began to gnaw, her hands further clenching her uniform skirt.  She had to remind herself to breathe.

“Kamiya-san.”

That voice should be outlawed.  It did strange things to her stomach and made her spine quiver.  She was probably not the first girl that it had had that effect on.  She wished she didn’t find him so attractive – it would have made the whole process so much easier.

“Ya-yagyuu-san…”

Shooting to her feet, Ayame, bowed abruptly, bending almost in half before he could even completely reach the bench.  “Th-thank you!” She blurted, remaining bent over.  “F-for everything!  The flowers.. an-and saving my life.”

The gratitude was wholly inadequate for what he had done for her, but she couldn’t completely put her emotions into words.  Just saying ‘thank you’ to someone who had saved you from dying seemed childish and trite.  It wasn’t enough, but Ayame didn’t know how to make it enough.  Even if she served him like a slave for the rest of her life it would never be enough.

A hand on her shoulder stilled her inner chastisement.  Yagyuu pulled her back up to her full height, all but forcing her to look at him.  He wasn’t smiling, and she couldn’t see his eyes, but there was a certain softness to the set of his face that she couldn’t remember being there before.  Though it certainly was possible.  The last time she had been this close to him she had been suffocating in a stairwell.

Yagyuu let his hand remain on the smaller girl’s shoulder as it looked like she needed some gesture of comfort.  Yukimura had said she was nervous, but to Yagyuu it looked more like she was a wreck waiting to fall apart.  Her color was better than it had been the last time he saw her, and there was no trace of blue in her lips.  Her glasses weren’t even half as concealing as his were, and so he saw straight through her eyes and to the admiration and attraction that lay there.

She was not the first girl to find him attractive.  Like the other members of the tennis team, it was routine for him to find love letters in his shoebox.  He ignored most of them, turned down others that were more direct.  He wasn’t like Yukimura who took the time to write each one personally.  And when faced with a girl that liked him, he dismissed them in a gentlemanly way and put them out of his mind.

But she wasn’t actively telling him her feelings.  That the emotions were in her eyes, behind the nerves and the embarrassment, were not her fault.  He was practical enough to realize that, and so he said nothing on the subject.  If she worked up the nerve to say anything, he would do something about it then.

For now, she was just thanking him, and that was fine.  Nodding his head he accepted her gratitude.  “You are welcome Kamiya-san.”  He didn’t add that he had done what was necessary and that was all.  She was fragile enough, and he didn’t particularly like hurting girls’ feelings.  It had likely taken all she had even to approach him.

Nor did he mention that her parents had already given him all the gratitude he would ever need.  They had come to him personally, fussed over him, and contacted his parents – unnecessary in his opinion – and they had given a sizable donation to the tennis club.  In his opinion the matter was finished. 

“Ano, may I suggest something?” Ayame wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she couldn’t take the weird silence any longer.  He had remained cool and distant – unsurprising, but slightly hurtful – and the silence was only making the sting worse. 

“Go ahead.”

Shuffling, Ayame turned her eyes to the ground.  “Your backstroke is a bit off time, if you tried lengthening your stride a couple of inches it would speed it up as well as take some strain off your arm.” She was uncomfortable and felt guilty for bringing up his flaws when she was supposed to be thanking him, but since she had started, there was no point in stopping now.  “Also, you would get even more power from your Laser Beam if you angled your racket five degrees forward.”

Yagyuu turned her suggestions over in his head.  Mentally replaying the match he had just had with Yanagi, he thought about it.  In seconds he realized that she was right.  His backstroke had been off time, though he hadn’t noticed it.  Likewise with his Laser Beam.  It was strong as it was, but it would probably be even stronger with her suggestion.  Why hadn’t he thought of it before?

Looking upon the smaller female with new appreciation, Yagyuu studied her.  She had changed since middle school, grown into her femininity.  Her hair and glasses suited her, as did the Rikkaidai uniform.  Her legs were long, though she wasn’t particularly tall, and her body well shaped.  She was still mousy, and he probably wouldn’t have noticed her at all if she hadn’t been dying in the stairwell, but now that he looked at her, he could see more than he did at first glance.

That she had overcome her nerves enough to point out errors in his play said a great deal about her as well.  That she had thought to add suggestions to the pointed out errors said even more.  She clearly knew tennis, although she obviously couldn’t play it.  She also clearly possess superior observation skills – she had noticed errors where others, including himself and Yanagi, hadn’t. 

It was hard to remember that this girl had managed the Seigaku team that had beat them two years ago.  His memory of her was hazy, and he had a superb memory.  She sort of blended in with the background, not standing out at all, but remaining quiet and supporting behind her team.  He remembered Tachibana An better than he did Kamiya Ayame, and he had never met either directly.

But now, talking to her, he could see why she had been Seigaku’s manager, and why they had won Nationals.  If her insights had been half as good as she had just demonstrated, then Seigaku had found a rarity for a manager. 

Yukimura would be interested in her.  He probably already was, otherwise he wouldn’t have emphasized her nervousness.  It was possible that she could be of some use to their team this year.  Of course, her intelligence and knowledge would have to be further tested.

“Yukimura was playing just now, what did you notice about his play?” He found himself asking, as if testing her right then was too tempting.

Ayame blinked in surprised then frowned in thought.  “Well… his play was perfect for the most part.  He stutter stepped, but I think that was because he was physically slowing himself down to go easy on his opponent.  It put some strain on him, but he doesn’t appear to be ill effected.”  She then thought for a couple more seconds.  “He’s even better now than he was two years ago.  Although, I think if he’s not careful he could become complacent… again.”

Interesting.  Yagyuu noticed right away that she lost her stutter when she started talking about tennis.  An aura of confidence surrounded her and he caught a glimpse of what she would be like if she wasn’t nervous and embarrassed. 

It was so easy to talk about tennis, Ayame didn’t even realize that she was speaking at length, or that he was studying her in a new, less cold manner.  “Yanagi-san was also almost perfect.  His tennis is a lot like Inui-kun’s but there are a lot of differences.  His movements are almost too calculated though, and I think he would benefit from a little spontaneity.  Although, I wish I could do something like the kamaitachi.”  She sighed at the end in a morose fashion.  “No sense wishing for the impossible, I guess.”

The way in which she blossomed was fascinating.  When she forgot where she was and focused on tennis, something she evidently loved very much, she became a different girl.  This girl was nothing like the one that shuffled awkwardly and bowed too deeply.  The change baffled Yagyuu. 

Yes, Yukimura would be interested in this one, for her skills if nothing else.   It was likely also, that she would prove useful in the coming months.  His decision not to dismiss her was now affirmed as a good one.  He felt more interest towards this strange, mousy female than any of the other long-legged, big chested girls that had left him notes or made eyes at him.  Maybe it was knowing that she was intelligent and that she understood a passion for tennis.

She wasn’t hard to look at, a little plain maybe, and easily over looked, but not ugly.  Perhaps her attraction to him could be useful in some way.

Ayame realized then that she had been monopolizing his time and all but blabbering at him.  Blushing, she laughed lightly and tugged at the ends of her hair.  “I’m sorry!  I’ve taken too much of your time.  Thank you again, Yagyuu-san.”  She bowed, feeling accomplished and not half as nervous as she had when he first approached.  “Good bye!”

She shuffled away without looking back, waving a bit at Yukimura as she passed and smiling wider than she had when she had been speaking to him.  An was still where Ayame had left her, only now it seemed like Sanada was an active participant in the conversation.  His deep, stoic voice calmly refuted whatever argument An was making, and there was a hint of a smile in his normally cold eyes.  An was caught up in the conversation, her eyes sparkling with interest and excitement, her face flushed with enjoyment. 

Ayame was loath to interrupt what could be the start of a friendship, but there was no sense in them hanging around and getting in the way of the rest of the practice.  Yukimura had probably given them more time than he had intended anyway.  “An-chan, are you ready to go now?”

Visibly disappointed, An turned to her best friend and nodded, sighing as she waved at Sanada.  “It was nice talking to you Sanada-kun,” she said brightly with a cheeky wink.  “Thank you for keeping me occupied.”

Sanada only nodded, but he didn’t move, not even when the two girls started up the bleacher stairs.

Ayame was unaware of their audience until a voice called out. “Kamiya-san!” Yukimura called from his  position in the middle of the court.  Ayame turned, surprised, and found Yagyuu standing beside the captain, Yanagi on the other side, and the other regulars scattered nearby.

“Yes?” She answered hesitantly, acutely aware of all the attention.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to come by tomorrow during practice?  Yagyuu mentioned that you have some suggestions on how to improve our play.”

He did?  Looking at Yagyuu now, she couldn’t see anything that would suggest that.  But her heart fluttered at the thought that he had been listening to her inane tennis drabbles.  She wasn’t sure she could be much help to Rikkaidai, but her love of tennis had her excepting the offer before she could even think it over completely.  “Sure… I guess.”

Yukimura smiled and lifted a hand in farewell.  “Then we will see you tomorrow.  Good day, Kamiya-san, Tachibana-san.”

An giggled, eyes flashing.  “It appears you already have a new job,” she drawled as they left the tennis courts.  “All the better for me – it give me a more valid excuse to hang around and get Sanada-kun to talk to me.”

Ever candid, An had no problem disclosing how much she liked Sanada, and how he was now firmly in her plans for the future.  Ayame laughed at her friend while her own thoughts drifted to the purple haired megane.

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