Hi!! I dont normally leave any commentary on fics ive read before but i just read your nba gojo fic in one sitting and just WOW. When i tell you it was one of the best sports aus i have ever read in my entire life i would not be exaggerating. The way you describe the matches genuinely had me at the edge of my metaphorical seat. AND THE CONFESSION SCENE UGHH!! You conveyed it in a way that was so striking and memorable i smile whenever i think of it.
Youâre such a talented writer ily đŤś
THIS IS THE SWEETEST THING EVERđ iâm so glad you liked it!! thank you so much for reading & leaving this note my entire week is MADE omfg â¤ď¸đĽ°
summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.
content: 49.6k words. complete. fem!reader. warnings preceding each chapter. mild angst, lowkey enemies to lovers but not really, solid amount of fluff. implied sexual content. language. aged up characters. fake nba teams. written by someone who knows nothing at all about basketball.
directory
one // two // three // four // five // six // seven // eight // nine // ten // eleven // twelve // overtime.
AH WAIT RIGHT OMG jjk s3âŚthoughtsâŚđťđâŚgenuine peak omds
ITâS SO GOOD OH MY GOD iâve read the whole thing so i knew what to expect but holy crap the animation KILLS ME it is GORGEOUS and the intro goes so hard i cannot even
Hi!!!!! How are you feeling? Anything interesting going on in your life?đđđđđđ
HI! i am feelin good thanks for asking! life has been very very busy recently (itâs a busy time of year at work and iâm wrapping up my first semester of grad school) and tonight was lowkey the first night iâve had to myself in ages and i used it to FINALLY catch up on jjk and it was fabulous. i am really hoping to have some time to lock in and write soon! hope youâre doing well <3
đž no man's land đ match point: a double endeavor
olympian!yuta x d1!reader | directory | prev.
summary: at the division one level, tennis is more than a sport. itâs your livelihood, and with your doubles partner maki training overseas for the summer, you know you need to step up your game for your last season. luckily for you, your coach has connections. and who better to train you than a rising star olympian? over the course of the summer, youâll push each other to your breaking points, and maybe farther. set by set, day by day, you start to untangle the mystery that is yuta okkotsu, the man he is off the court and the force he is on it. you might have finally met your match. but just like alwaysâitâs all in the name of the game.
warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, more excessive use of italics and em-dashes, naoya being naoya, maki and mai and the weirdest sibling dynamic in the world, satosugu probably i mean come on, also rachel try not to put itafushi in a fic challenge level impossible, uraume plays women's tennis bc it's harder, florida, time jumps/flash forward, olyyyympiiiiics, the second half of this is basically an epilogue
|| sfw. 9.2k words.
WHEN YUTA STROLLSÂ onto the court the next morning, thereâs a new calmness about him, a relaxed easiness to his gait that for some reason makes you smile. Part of you thinks you might be more nervous for this match than he isâall of you are, Maki on your left and Toge on your right, tense with anticipation.
Opposite Yuta on the court stands Naoya Zenin, leering, arrogant. The sun makes their silhouettes stretch long and spindly along the ground, exaggerated puppets of their true forms.
As the two of them approach the net to shake hands, Maki goes rigid beside you. Toge is fully ready to start booing before you elbow him in the ribs.
Thereâs a low exchanging of words, and you canât help remembering what Naoya said to Toge at their match. Worthless son. Great expectations.
What has he dug up on Yuta? God, you hope heâs not spewing shit about Rika or something. No doubt that Naoya would stoop that low.
But Yuta looks at ease as he walks back to his side of the court, and youâre a bit far away to tell, but you think Naoya might even look a little annoyed.
The asshole serves first, and you hold your breath as he sends a ball to Yutaâs boxâitâs slow, easy to hit, Naoyaâs attempt at throwing off his opponent early.
And Yuta just stands there and lets it hit the ground.
You clap a hand over your mouth as Toge starts giggling beside you.
âHoly shit,â Maki says.
Holy shit, indeed.
Yuta is doing to Naoya exactly what Naoya did to Toge. Psyching him out. Playing with him. You arenât sure if you want to congratulate him or run down to the court and shake him by the shoulders.
But you trust Yuta. You trust his ability and his knowledge of that ability. He gave up a point because he knows he can get it back, and that confidence says volumes. Naoya is absolutely off his game now.
Yuta service breaks in the first game. Wins the second. The third is Naoyaâs again, but heâs already faltering, no match for the unpredictability of Yutaâs movements, the sporadic nature of his serves. His aces, right into no manâs land.
By the time Yuta takes the first set, whatever apprehension youâd been feeling about this match is somewhere deep in the gutter, melted off you like snow in spring. Itâs earlyâin theory, Naoya could still get this back. But you know for a fact that he wonât.
With the lead secured, Yuta continues to play with Naoyaâs emotions, building off his frustration as he racks up games. When Naoya snags a point, Yuta grins at him, and Naoya nearly throws his racket into the ground.
On set three, Yuta puts on a show, makes it close, but everyone knows damn well he just let Naoya win. And then⌠then he lets him win set four, too.
Itâs unlike him to draw it out like this. Yuta is a good sport, not manipulative, there to win the game fair and square. Heâs already won and everyone here knows it. But the crowd isnât upset, even as the match enters its fourth hour. Theyâre eating this up, watching Naoya Zenin get played like a fiddle.
Toge is downright giddy beside you. Maki is thoroughly enjoying watching Naoya get pummeled, and you donât say anything when she quietly pulls her phone out and records for a few minutes. Footage of Naoya losing his shit. Perfect for a rainy day.
Yuta runs Naoya Zenin into the ground. When he snags the final point, he doesnât so much as smile, just leveling Naoya with a calm expression from across the court. The rage that sweeps over Naoyaâs face is heated and visceral, and you and Maki have to physically turn around because youâre laughing so hard.
You donât kiss Yuta in front of everyone, but you waste no time doing so as soon as you get him behind closed doors.
â
âAre you dating?â Toge asks casually as you hit back and forth, wiggling his eyebrows as he sends the ball across the court to Maki.
Youâre back on campus, and Yuta and Toge are joining you until a few days before the invitational. For the last few days, theyâve been testing you and Maki as a unit, but today youâve switched up your pairings for a change of pace.
Are you dating?
What a question. You havenât talked about that, the label, but not because of any hesitationâit just hasnât seemed important, in the grand scheme of things. Youâre⌠something, certainly. But is he your boyfriend?
Apparently youâve hesitated too long, so Toge shouts to the other side. âYuta! Are you guys dating?â
Yuta stumbles, wide-eyed, and misses the ball.
âOh my god.â You make a pleading face at Maki, but she just smirks.
âYeah, Ace,â she calls. âYou guys dating?â
Yuta straightens, making eye contact with you over the net. Heâs wearing black shorts and a white tank, which is a stupid decision but one youâre infinitely grateful for. Itâs scorching, and all of you are drenched in sweat. The image of the fabric clinging to Yutaâs torso is⌠not an unpleasant one, to say the least.
He shrugs with one shoulder, as if to say Iâm cool if youâre cool.
You shrug back. Sure.
âYes,â he says firmly. A grin breaks out across your face unbidden. That warm, fluttery thing thatâs been rooted in your chest for months now seems to hum a little. âYes, we are.â
âOh my god, yeah you are,â Toge gapes. âYou just did that creepy twin thing where you have a whole conversation without talking.â
You snort and make to swat him with your racket, and he nearly falls on his ass dodging your swing. âMaybe donât compare us to twins when we just told you weâre in a relationship.â
âCreepy couple thing,â Toge amends, serving a new ball. Your rallies are long, your hits all over the place, and even alongside Maki you can see the love of doubles in Yutaâs playstyle, how much heâs remembering his own joy as he moves across the court. Itâs addicting to watch, and you have to make a conscious effort to focus on your own game.
The days go by, and it feels like nothing has changed, even though in a way, everything has.
Yuta Okkotsu is your boyfriend.
Nobody seems surprised, but Nobara does scream so loud in her apartment that the girl from across the hall comes over to make sure sheâs okay. She and Toge go back and forth between terrorizing each other and everyone else. Gojo loudly gives Yuta the shovel talk in front of your entire team, and you want to die, but Yuta just stands there smiling politely and then says, seriously, âIf I ever hurt her, everyone on this court better come after me with everything they have.â
Shoko just looks all-knowing and unfazed. Tsumiki asks if she should give you the safe sex talk with a shit-eating grin on her face. Ino starts sending you Instagram reels of Yutaâs matches captioned do u know him?
The assistant coaches are back from their big coaching convention or workshop or whatever that Shoko and Gojo skipped out on, so now your practices are more structured, with Kusakabe and Nitta around to pick up some of the slack. You throw yourself into the extra work, and you keep going after hours, when Yuta and Toge drill you and Maki into the ground.
And then, after after hours, Yutaâs all yours.
He takes you on a date to a nearby restaurant, hat pulled low over his face to avoid recognition.
Then he takes you on another one and doesnât bother hiding. You raise a questioning brow when he picks you up outside your building with no hat or sunglasses, and he just shrugs. âLet them know,â he says. âYour heart is more impressive than anything else Iâve ever won.â
He says it so casually. You donât stop thinking about it the entire night, not when he takes your hand and leads you down the street, not when he pays for your ice cream at the corner shop, not when he kisses you in front of the California sunset and whispers âIâm so in love with youâ against the shell of your ear.
You say it back.
Everything about it feels right. He just fits perfectly into your routine, inside and outside of tennis, with or without the rest of your friends present. Somehow heâs become so integral to all aspects of your life over the span of just a few months.
Heâs not your âother half.â You are both whole, and when youâre together, your Venn diagram becomes a circle. Itâs just⌠easy.
Toward the end of August, you drive him and Toge to the airport. The US Open is coming up, and your whole team is in full training mode anyway. Even though itâs the second year of the pilot program, itâs strange, this being a fall sport. You like it like this, the immediacy of it. A fresh start on all fronts.
Before Yuta gets out of the passenger seat, he kisses you and says, âBe back soon.â Like itâs normal. Like youâve always done this. Like youâre going to keep doing this for the rest of your lives.
Youâre grinning the whole way home.
â
âIâm going to kill you!â
Ah, some things never change.
Iori Utahime stands glowering up at a relaxed, smirking Gojo, her fists clenched and shaking so violently you half expect her to combust. Sheâs red in the face and absolutely livid, and youâve been here for all of⌠you glance at your watch.
Four minutes.
Youâre familiar with the Kyoto campus and most of the players on its tennis team. Most are welcome faces, but there are a few you never know quite what to do with.
Mai, for instance.
No matter how many times you see them interact, no matter how many times Maki explains that she and her sister have an understanding, you do not understand how they actually feel about each other. Theyâll spit lethal words at each other and then shrug and shake hands. In some ways, they remind you of a pair of middle school boysâhaving a fight, punching each other, and calling it even.
They donât greet each other when you and Maki walk onto the court. Mai just looks at her coolly, and Maki inclines her head ever so slightly.
âI donât get you,â you say for the thousandth time. âAre you mad at each other?â
âNo more than we usually are,â Maki says unhelpfully.
Geto has stepped between Gojo and Utahimeâfinally done with embarrassing the twins in front of everyoneâand Utahime stalks off in the other direction, fuming, as Geto and Gojo settle into their weâre flirting in front of the students and weâre going to deny it later routine.
âYou guys!â Kasumi Miwa shouts as she runs up to you and Maki, towing Muta behind her. âHi! Itâs been so long!â
âHey, Kasumi.â You grin, accepting her side-hug and nodding at Mutaâheâs shy, but kind, always at Kasumiâs back looking unsure of whether he should join the conversation. âNobara says hi.â
âOh, I love her,â Kasumi says, like she does every time. âTell her hi back, will you? We should hang out.â
Across the court, Todo and Choso are having some kind of standoff while Yuji flits anxiously between them. Megumi has abandoned him in favor of slinking off with Ino and Hakari, and Junpei is warming up with Riko near the gate.
You love this organized chaos, the way the energy of a matchday builds up in the air until everyoneâs buzzing with it. And itâs all the better when all these people are your friends, and the sun is high in the sky, and you all want the same thing: to win, and to have a good fucking time doing it.
The Kyoto Tech Invitational is a standard tournament format with three simultaneous doubles matches, but unlike actual NCAA play, the guys and girls arenât scoring separately. Everyone plays doubles and singles, because this is a mock tournament made possible mostly by the fact that Gojo and Geto canât stay away from each other for that long.
Itâs a preseason exercise. Not that you ever take it as such. This is a competition as much as anything else, and you intend to win.
Nanami, per usual, is the one to rein everyone in and get things going. He coaches the menâs team and Geto coaches the womenâs team, but they for the most part all train together, not dissimilar to the way Gojo and Shoko run things at Kaisen.
The tournament starts with doubles, three simultaneous matches. Ino and Junpei are on the far court with Hakari and Choso in the middle, but Yuji and Megumiâs match is the one youâre focused on. Because theyâre up against the lethal combination of Noritoshi and Todo.
Getoâs calling their match, and it escalates fast. Yuji and Megumi are all speed, but Todo is raw strength. Coupled with Noritoshiâs impeccable technique, theyâre a tough battle. By the time the other guys have wrapped up their matches, Yuji and Megumi have just won game four, tying it up 2-2.
The sun is blazing, so youâre glad when it doesnât go all the way to a tiebreak round. Todo dives for a lowball from Yuji, and just when it looks like heâs not going to make it, somehow Noritoshi is there in his stead, slamming it back to Megumi at an insane angle.
Youâre sure he doesnât stand a chance. But he loosens his grip on his racket ever so slightly, letting it slide nearly out of his hand, to reach the ball on the right side. And then he turns his entire body with the racket to build up momentum, enough to get it back over the net, and the move was so unexpected Todo doesnât reach for it in time.
âShit,â you breathe, thoroughly impressed. Yujiâs all over Megumi, crowing about how amazing he is, and Megumi just shrugs nonchalantly like he doesnât care.
You know he does. Especially when he catches Gojoâs proud dad smile from the sideline and promptly faces the other direction, ducking his head to hide the flush on his face.
You and Maki are up against Mai and Kasumi, to nobodyâs surprise. Usually, you wind up feeling like an accessory to Makiâs weird, silent battle with her sister. But this time, youâre locked in. Youâre matching them all hit for hit, then surpassing themâonly one side of this court has been training with Olympians all summer. And it doesnât take long for that to show.
âThat was amazing,â Kasumi pants at the end, stumbling up to the net to shake your hand. âYouâwow, guys, good job.â
Mai strides silently up to the net, looking you up and down, then doing the same to Maki. Maki holds her gaze, raising a brow.
They silently shake hands over the netâonce, firm, like a business transaction. And then they turn away from each other.
You will never understand them.
Your match wrapped up before Riko and Kiraraâs, and you tune in just in time to hear Haibara, one of the assistant coaches, call it in favor of Kyoto. Momo is a beast on the court. Thereâs something so biologically impossible about how high she can jump. You swear to god sheâs a witch or something.
Rikoâs sulking, but Kirara is already animatedly discussing strategy with Momo, ready to take the loss in stride and use it to improve their play.
At one point the Kyoto trainer, Ijichi, slinks out to supervise some of the singles matches while Utahime makes a lunch run âto get Gojo out of her face for two goddamn minutes.â Itâs a whirlwind of sets and sweat, camaraderie and rivalry, shared stories and arguments.
By the end of the day, Kaisen has taken Kyoto by just a few points, and youâre dead on your feet.
samurai:Â howâd it go?
you:Â killed makiâs sister in doubles. got momo for singles, sheâs brutal
samurai:Â but you won! :)
you:Â you know what they say about assuming
samurai:Â but iâm right
You laugh, a little dumbfounded still by Yutaâs wholehearted faith in you.
you:Â yes you are
you:Â and you? how goes the slam
samurai:Â decent so far
You already looked up the scores. Yuta is doing a lot fucking better than decent.
You send him an article from The Athletic waxing poetic about how he might just be the best tennis player of this generation.
Heâs quiet for a few minutes, and then:
samurai:Â ah. well
samurai:Â i was thinking you about the whole time
â
You catch Yuta and Toge on TV when you can, record them when you canât. After all⌠thatâs your boyfriend. Your pro tennis player boyfriend.
He wins the US Open. Heâs in the Davis Cup. Heâs a legend.
And in the NCAA circles, youâre becoming a legend, too.
As the season goes on, you and Maki are an unstoppable force. You feel amazing, you play amazing, and nowâyouâre bringing that energy into your singles play. You were always the best womenâs doubles players in the conference. But now, youâre holding your own.
There are four ways to qualify for NCAA Championships, scattered throughout the fall season. Gojo and Shoko split you up accordingly, strategically, finding the best routes for each of you to give it your best shot.
You and Maki qualify in late September through the All-American Championships, pulling out a win over a pair of crazy good girls from Washington. When you walk off the court, Shoko grins at you and says, âI canât wait to watch you kick ass like that in the Olympics, kid.â
Yuji and Megumi represent the guys, and though theyâre runners-up, they still qualify for Championships by a landslide.
Yuta calls you that night and whispers to you over the phone. He wants you to come out to his place for a weekend when the seasonâs over.
âI know Iâm not home a lot, but I want you to see that part of me,â he murmurs. âAnd⌠I want to see you in that part of my life, you know? I want to see you with messy hair looking out the window in my bedroom. I want to kiss you awake and make you coffee and make fun of your morning breathââ
âExcuse you.â
ââand,â he says, talking over you, âI want to give you a key.â
You freeze.
âWhat?â
âI⌠sorry. Is that coming on too strong? I know itâs only been a couple months, I justââ
âYuta,â you cut in, before he can go on spiraling. âNo, IâI was just surprised. I would love to. I mean, I would love to see your place, and wake up with you, and put your key on my keychain.â Youâre a little bit breathless with the possibility of it. âAnd make fun of your morning breath, which is objectively worse than mine.â
âExcuse you!â
In October, Kirara and Riko and the twins go to regionals. Ino and Junpei win sectionals in November. Then itâs time for Conference Masters, and you and Maki go all-in just for the hell of it, Hakari and Choso on your heels. Itâs a crazy season, and a mix of players from both teams qualify in doubles and singles combinations.
And through it all, youâre playing the best you ever have, somehow balancing school and tennis and the reality of having a serious relationship in the middle of it all.
And then the season is nearly over, and the Championships are on the horizon, and all of your blood and sweat and tears have been for this.
If you win this, that Accelerator spot is yours.
â
The East Coast is so different from your ownâpalm trees and ocean salt, sure, but Florida is more humid. The air holds the moisture blown in from the warmer ocean currents, and you feel like youâre sweating bullets the second you step off the plane.
NCAA Championships are in Orlando, as always, at the USTA National Campus. You and Maki spent the flight going over the rosters and the bracket, the standout players who have the potential to really give you some trouble.
To qualify for the Accelerator in singles, you need to get to the quarterfinals. But you know thatâs not enough for you. You want to win.
There arenât many competitors here to play both doubles and singles. Even from your team, only a handful of players have made it this farâYuji and Megumi in doubles, along with Hakari and Choso. Kirara and Ino in singles.
And you and Maki, for both.
âAt least itâs November,â she offers dryly as you make your way through the airport to the waiting bus. âImagine being in this hellhole in July.â
âDid you just call Florida a hellhole?â Yuji squawks. âThis is heaven. I want to live here.â
âYouâre a moron,â Megumi says flatly.
Yuji beams.
âHead count, you obnoxious children!â Shoko calls, herding the lot of you toward the entrance while Gojo is being absolutely no help, insisting that the airport is the best place to buy donuts right now. Shoko swats him on the back of the head and shoves him toward the bus.
âOw,â he whines.
âAlright, give me the matchups,â Kusakabe calls once youâre all on the bus. Heâs pacing up and down the aisle, handing out brackets, and you scan up and down the row for the Round of 64, then 32, then 16, trying to guess the most likely opponents like you did on the plane.
Youâre not worried about the first round, or even the second, although you recognize a few names. Flipping to the doubles bracket, you see that you and Maki are facing a pair of girls from Texas.
Sure enough, all of you kill the Round of 64 in singles. The next day, the doubles matches start as well, kicking off with the Round of 32 because of the smaller draw.
Nobara calls you right before your singles match.
âSaori!â she yells in lieu of a greeting, and you grimace, pulling the phone away from your ear.
âHeadphone warning, my god.â
âYouâre playing Saori!â she repeats, ignoring your protests. âRemember her? We grew up together!â
You groan. âNobara! Donât tell me that!â Maki glances at you as you walk toward the courts, and you smirk. âNow Iâm gonna feel bad when I kick her ass.â
You shove your phone into Makiâs hand and grin as you walk onto the court, leaving Maki to entertain her girlfriend while you take on her childhood best friend and, hopefully, crush her.
âI hear we have a mutual friend,â you tell Saori as you shake her hand over the net. Sheâs pretty, short brown hair with windswept bangs and wide brown eyes, and you know for a fact that Nobara had a crush on her as a kid.
âBara?â Saori laughs, her voice bright and airy. âWell, donât let her make you feel too bad if you beat me.â Sheâs teasing, but thereâs a truth in her voice that startles you. The fact that youâve been training with Yuta isnât a secret. You just havenât quite realized the extent of your reputation until itâs staring you in the face, accepting loss before the match even starts.
You know youâre going to win. She knows, too. But you can tell sheâs going to give it her all, anyway.
And she does, but itâs not enough.
The first game goes your way, then the next, and the next. Saori isnât as fast as Maki or Yuta or Toge, as fast as you, and you realize halfway through the first set that you can flawlessly predict her movements. All those hours of you and Yuta analyzing film, of him drilling you on match strategy, are paying off. Never has your progress felt as tangible as it does right now.
By the time youâve swept her in two sets, you still feel ready to play three more.
Saori smiles resignedly, panting as you approach the net to wish her a good game.
âYouâre real good, you know,â she says. âTell Bara I said hi.â
You and Maki beat the girls from Texas the same day, moving onto the Round of 16, and the next day is just as muggy and sweltering as ever. What a sad excuse for autumn. But itâs hard to even be irritated by the heat when youâre playing at your best, and Yutaâs dominating the US Open, and the rest of your team is steadily progressing through their respective matchups.
Old friends seem to be a trend. The next girl you play catches Yujiâs eye immediately, and after you beat her, he rushes up to her and practically tackles her right on the spot.
âOzawa! Hi!â Yuji grins, pulling her into a hug. She yelps, but smiles when he pulls back. âItâs so good to see you, how have you been?â
They devolve into small talk while Megumi stands beside Yuji, reluctantly polite. To anyone else, he probably looks his stoic self. To you, he looks annoyed and territorial. You catch a few snippets of Yujiâs ramblings and figure out that the two of them went to high school together.
âShe was into you,â Megumi tells Yuji flatly as you all make your way to the far courts to watch Inoâs match.
âWhat?â
Kirara snorts and throws her arm around Yuji, ruffling his hair like heâs her little brother. âOh, Yuji, you sweet summer child.â
Yuji just beams. âAw, thanks!â
â
You knew you could beat Saori.
This new girl, youâre not so sure.
Hana Kurusu stands on the other side of the net with flawless form, looking entirely at ease in a way that unsettles you. This is a girl whoâs confident on the ball. This is a girl who can give you a run for your money. Her name isnât new to youâsheâs been making big waves up in New York this year.
But itâs only the quarterfinals. Youâre not done yet. Youâre going to win it all.
Kiraraâs out for the count as of this morning, and Choso and Hakari are fighting for their spot right this second. You refuse to be the next one to fall.
âLove-love,â Hana calls, her voice unnervingly sweet, and she sends a bullet your way. You have to dive for it, but you return, and then youâre rallying and you know this wonât be easy. Sheâs got a lethal slice, but now, so do you.
The game goes to her, but you win your service game. 1-1.
Her facial expressions donât change no matter what happens. She snags a point with a clever lowball, and the set of her brows doesnât even remotely move. You get a service break to take game three, and she doesnât even blink.
You already know what Yujiâs going to say. Do you think sheâs a robot? Imagine tennis-playing robots. Should we make one?
Itâs not until you win set one that you finally get her to crack. The official calls it in your favor, and you simply nod rather than breaking out in a grin, wanting to give Hana a taste of her own unnervingly non-expressive medicine.
She turns around to face the fence and takes a breath so deep you can see her shoulders move. Composing herself.
Got her.
After that, itâs easier to get under her skin, easier to tell where the flow of the game is taking you. Sheâs a tough opponent, but halfway into the second set, you know this is a victory you can pull off, so long as you donât let up. Sheâs giving you hell, but youâre serving it right back.
Set two is yours. You advance.
When you get off the court, Yujiâs there bouncing on the balls of his feet, Megumi and Maki standing behind him with more subdued pride.
âGood job!â Yuji throws his arms around you and you laugh, hugging him back. âChoso and Hakari lost. We have to avenge them.â
That means that as far as doubles go, itâs just you, Maki, Yuji, and Megumi in the semis. In singles, you, Maki, and Ino are the last ones standing.
âShe was a menace,â Maki says as she slaps you on the shoulder in congratulations.
You groan. âThat girl has one facial expression.â
âDo you think sheâs a robot?â Yuji gasps. You canât explain to him why youâre laughing so hard.
In doubles semifinals, you and Maki take down a pair of sisters from the Midwest, and Yuji and Megumi shut down their opponents in three sets. Maki narrowly loses her singles match and Ino narrowly wins his. You prevail over Momo Nishimiya in a brutal three-set match that goes to the tiebreak game, not nailing her down until the last second, when you fake her out on a lowball that she was expecting to have to jump for.
Just like that, youâre in the finals.
That night, the lot of you are gathered in the hotel common space, sprawled out on the spread of couches and armchairs talking or playing cards. Makiâs phone on the coffee table lights up with a FaceTime call from Nobara, and she glances around, as if asking for permission to take it.
For all Makiâs confidence, sheâs so shy about her relationship. Nobara is one of the most physically affectionate people you know, but Maki avoids PDA like the plague. Sheâs even hesitant to take a call in front of the team, like itâs somehow disruptive. But itâs Nobara. She might as well be an honorary tennis playerâGojo once offered to make her the mascot, much to her indignation.
In Makiâs hesitation, you reach forward and pick up the call in her stead.
âHellooooo,â she sings as soon as the call connects. âMy wifeâoh, youâre not my wife. I mean, youâre also my wife, but youâre not my wife wife, you know? Hi.â She grins. Sheâs splayed on the floor of her dorm room, one cheek imprinted with the pattern of her rug.
Maki rolls her eyes and wrenches the phone from your grasp as a chorus of âHi, Nobara!â and âKugisaki!â sounds from around the room.
Nobara starts yapping immediately, and then your phone lights up with a phone call.
Suddenly, you understand Makiâs trepidation on a very deep level.
âWhoâs samurai?â Ino grins, leaning over your shoulder. You swat at him, and he just wiggles his eyebrows.
âShut up,â you grumble, sliding to accept and putting the phone to your ear. âHi.â
âHi.â You can hear the smile in his voice. âHeard you killed it today.â
âAre you surprised?â you tease, ignoring the heart Yuji is obnoxiously making with his hands.
Megumi kicks him in the ankle, and when Yuji looks mortally offended, he just glances pointedly down at their abandoned card game and says, âItâs your turn, dipshit.â
âNever,â Yuta says. âWhoâs on the docket tomorrow?â
âPut it on speaker, coward!â Hakari yells from across the room, and Yuta snorts. You flip him off.
âUraume. Theyâre... really good.â After all, they're the ones who knocked Maki out of the singles competition. And that's not something to be taken lightly.
âFrom Virginia? I remember the news articles about the school admin letting them choose between menâs and womenâs. It was a whole thing.â
Indeed, it had been. And Uraume had chosen womenâs tennis, because itâs always been the harder sport, and anyone who canât see that is a moron. Forget five sets. Women donât need all that wiggle room to prove their worth.
âYep,â you say, popping the p. Yuta hums thoughtfullyâhe knows Uraumeâs reputation as well as you do. And itâs a damn good one.
âAh, well, youâll kill it.â
You feel suddenly vulnerable. Because what if you donât? What if going up against Uraume is where your luck runs out?
Reading your silence, Yuta says, softer, âDonât sell yourself short, Ace. You deserve better than that.â
You look around the room at your team. At some point, Choso and Hakari started arm wrestling. Kirara is debating the merits of some metal band with Ino next to where Megumi and Yuji play cardsâyouâre pretty sure Megumiâs letting him win just to see if he noticesâand Maki is trying not to blush as Nobara loudly talks about how hot it is when she serves.
You love your team, and you love your sport. You didnât think you needed anything more. But Yuta is a quiet, steady reassurance in your ear that you canât help but lean into.
âThanks,â you whisper, smiling softly. âYâknow, youâre not half bad at the pep talk thing.â
âYeah, I practiced that one in the mirror all morning.â
âShut the fuck up,â you laugh.
Thereâs a silence in which you can just see Yutaâs smirk. âWish you could make me.â
â
The finals.
Today is all or nothing, and it wonât be easy for you in particularâyou have your doubles match in the morning and your final head-to-head against Uraume just hours later. Itâs almost unheard of for a player to take home national singles and doubles titles in the same year, let alone on the same day. Even the thought of it makes your muscles burn.
Your phoneâs been silent this morning. Yutaâs been in Spain this week for the Davis Cup, and the finals areâwereâtoday. Time differences, and all that. Italy always wins, it seems, but the U.S. put up a good fight. You figure heâs out enjoying MĂĄlaga while it lasts.
Itâs clear a half-second into the match that youâre going to have to fight for this one. The girl servingâRemiâhas deceitfully innocent-looking bubble braids, and sheâs lithe but so fast you nearly miss the return. Her partner, Takako, seems to move through the air like itâs a part of her, and itâs a constant struggle to keep up with the way she takes space.
But itâs you and Maki. Youâve taken this title before, and you know damn well you can do it again.
These girls donât make it easy. You stretch it to three sets, and then a piercing whistle draws your attention to the stands after a game point.
At first you think youâre hallucinating. The heatâs gotten to you. Youâre just making shit up.
But no, there he is. Yuta Okkotsu, an Olympian at an NCAA womenâs tennis match, looking jet-lagged as all hell, and grinning proudly at you from the bottom of the bleachers.
âOh my god,â Maki hisses in your ear as you swap sides. âYou know what that means, right? That he skipped out on the Italy match to fly his ass back here.â
âSimp,â you say, grinning.
Your heart swells.
And you and Maki kick absolute ass.
â
âI canât believe you came all the way here.â You lean into Yutaâs side, the gorgeous Floridian sunset stretched out before you.
The curb of a local gas station isnât inherently the most romantic place in the world. But you wanted ice cream, and the clouds are lit up with purples and oranges, and Yuta is at your side, and it all feels a little bit surreal.
âYou should be enjoying Spain!â you go on, nudging him with your elbow.
Yuta just smiles softly, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. âI wanted to be here.â
Heâs not lying, but thereâs something you canât quite parse in his expression. His eyes are a little⌠sad? Thereâs something heavy about him.
âYou played well, you know,â you say, knocking your knee against his.
âI know.â He sighs. âItâs not that. Sorry. I do want to be here. And I know itâs a huge privilege to just be able to go to Spain, and come back, andâjustâŚâ
You donât push. This is a familiar dance for you, now. He talks when heâs ready to talk.
For a while, the only sounds are softly chirping crickets and the rumble of passing cars, laughter floating from down the block, birds flitting between the trees. And then Yuta says, âItâs, uhâitâs Rikaâs birthday.â
You sit up, turning to face him fully. âOh, Yuta. IâŚâ
âI donât want you to feel bad, or anything,â he rushes, backpedaling the way he always does when heâs nervous. âI just didnât want you to think I was being weird because of you, or something, I donât know. I just⌠sorry.â
You reach out and lace your fingers through Yutaâs, resting your joined hands on his knee. âHey.â You wait until he looks at you, his wide, dark eyes reflecting the floodlights of the gas station parking lot. âNothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.â You squeeze his hand. âI⌠how are you doing? That feels like such a stupid question. But is there anything I can⌠I donât know, do? To help?â
Yuta softens a little, shakes his head gently. âYouâre helping,â he murmurs. âI came back early to see you play. To see you win. But also just to⌠see you. I thought it would help.â
On one of the hardest days of Yutaâs year, he thought seeing you would help. Enough that he flew back here from Spain to find out.
âI love you, yâknow,â you murmur. Something about the situation seems to call for hushed words, quiet affections.
âI love you too.â He seems to deflate in relief, having gotten this off his chest now. âYou just felt safer, somehow. Than all my teammates. They have good intentions, they just donât know. Which is my fault, too, obviously. I could have told them. I justâshe would have really liked you, you know? And you made me fall back in love with the game, Ace. No, I mean it,â he doubles down when you open your mouth. âYou did. And I think she would have been grateful for that. So it justâfelt right, to be here. With you.â
Yutaâs cheeks are a little flushed, partially with heat and partially with something sheepish and shy. You lean in and kiss him. Short, sweet. Easy. You want this to be easy for him.
âI didnât know Rika,â you say, not breaking eye contact. âBut I think sheâd be really goddamn proud of you, Yuta.â
He swallows once, hard, and swipes the back of his hand across his eyes with a wet laugh. âYeah?â
âYeah.â You scoot closer to Yuta on the curb and turn back to the sun, now almost hidden behind the horizon, and lean your head on his shoulder. âAnd Iâm proud of you, too.â
â
Uraume is a walking contradiction.
They canât be taller than 5â4â or so, and their thin build is covered by the baggiest tennis clothes youâve ever seen. Still, you know they have one of the strongest backhands in the country. They have the worst resting bitch face youâve ever seen, but as you shake hands at the net, they crack a little smile and say, âIâm excited to play you. Iâve watched you, you know.â
âOh?â Youâve watched Uraume, too, of course. Nobody gets to this stage of the competition without studying up.
âYou trying to take home both titles?â Uraume says, and doesnât wait for your response. âThatâs ballsy. I respect it.â They donât say good luck. Neither do you. Despite their words being sparse and stiff, you somehow take a liking to them immediatelyâtheyâre honest, and theyâre not here to play any mental games. Just the one you both love.
Itâs one of the hardest matches of your life.
Uraume doesnât pull any punches, and in the first set, they run you all over the court. But thereâs no malice in it, just calculated moves that prove their undeniable skill.
The second set is yours. As you pull back on a brutal slice that gets you the winning point, they look up through a shock of white hair and grin. Thatâs more like it, they seem to say. And then itâs their serve.
Sweat is pouring in a river down your back, and your breathing is fast and shallow, but you feel alive with it, the love of this sport. You have no idea whoâs winning this match. Itâs their game, your game, their game, your gameâyouâre even alternating every other point, youâre so well-matched. Theyâre making you fight for this.
Somebody hollers from the standsâYuji! He and Megumi must be done with their doubles final now, and have made their way over to your match. You sneak a glance out of the corner of your eye and find Megumi looking properly satisfied beside him. They won, then. Kaisen swept doubles. Ino lost his singles match earlier, which means as far as individual play goes, youâre the sole survivor. Heâs there too, next to Choso and Hakari, and beside them is Maki, looking entirely unconcerned. Like she knows you can do this.
And beside her is Yuta. He waves, a little shy, and you suddenly feel lighter on your feet.
By the time you reach the tiebreak game, youâre running purely on adrenaline. Uraume came into this match fresh and rested. You came into it right after one of the toughest doubles matches of your life.
Itâs match point.
And itâs Uraumeâs serve.
You have the disadvantage here and everybody knows it. Itâs like the bleachers are holding their collective breath. But you force yourself to breathe long and deep, not giving in to the urge to look back at Yuta, at Maki, at all your friends hanging onto your every move.
This oneâs yours.
Uraume raises their racket, and you realize with a jolt exactly where the ball is headed. It feels, somehow, like everything has led up to this moment. Every grueling training session with Yuta, every tournament at Makiâs side, every moment watching film in Gojoâs office. It was all for this, right here, right now.
Itâs headed to no manâs land.
And youâre ready.
Itâs a bullet of a ball, and you can tell Uraume meant for it to throw you off balance, butâhow could they know? This isnât your weak spot anymore. No manâs land isnât no manâs land to you, not after Yuta. Itâs yours.
You send it sailing back, and Uraume backpedals to return it to you. In their hesitation, they send it higher than they shouldâve. It sets you up perfectly.
You stretch out your arm, leap into the air, and slam that shit right back into Uraumeâs no manâs land.
It lands just inside the line.
This isnât your first rodeo, though. You know in your bones that was in, but itâs all down to the official now, and youâve had shit luck with umps in the past. There was this one back in sophomore year, Shiu Kong, and you swear to god he was getting paid off.
Across the court, Uraume is staring at you steadily, their head ever so slightly inclined. They know theyâve lost.
And Higuruma steps up to the line and calls, âIN!â
Just like that, itâs over. You let out a whoop, jumping into the air one more time just for the hell of it, and the stands erupt, your team clamoring right up against the fence.
Youâve won.
The second youâre out of the gate, your team is on you, full dog-pile, and even Maki is screaming, and Megumi mutters good fucking job in your ear and Gojo lifts you up and twirls you in the air and then Yuta pushes back your visor and kisses you in front of everybody, and this, this is everything.
Life is so, so good.
â
With your dual titleâsingles and doubles in the same yearâyou become a national sensation, qualify for the WTA College Accelerator, and segue smoothly into WTA play postgrad. And you and Yuta are doing life together, and it feels⌠right.
He takes you to his place up the coast, and soon it becomes as much your home as it is his. Your schedules are demanding, and the both of you are constantly traveling, sometimes together, sometimes not, but every time you come back to his little house on the waterline, and it feels perfect.
You and Maki have both proved yourself enough in singles, gravitated back to each other like binary stars. Youâre meant to play this game at each otherâs sides and you both know it, and soon youâre dominating the circuits as a unit, the way it always should have been.
And one day, you get a phone call from Gojo.
âWhatâs up?â you ask, yawning and accepting the smoothie Maki pushes into your hand. It's been years since you graduated, but Gojo simply never stopped being your coach. You never know if his calls are you going to be real business or something stupid.
âAre you with Zenin right now?â
Maki picks up on his question and raises a brow, sitting down on the couch and motioning for you to join her. Toge is being obnoxious in Yutaâs kitchen and saying something about how if he puts every flavor of Gatorade into a blender, itâll give him superpowers.
You scoff at Gojoâs question. âDuh?â
The call turns into a FaceTime, and Gojoâs face fills the screen as you settle beside Maki. Heâs leaning back in his office chair, phone propped up on the desk, with his hair all messy after practice.
âWhat do you want?â Maki says, but thereâs no heat in it, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
âYou love me,â Gojo says. âListen. Ooh, Ieiri, câmere!â
Shoko must have been passing by in the hallway, because soon she appears beside him in the frame. âOh! Hey, you.â
âYou didnât look that excited to see me,â Gojo mutters.
âI see you every day, dipshit. Have you told them yet?â
âOh my god,â you cut in, wishing you could reach through the screen and grab Gojo by the shoulders. âTold us what? Cut to the chase, old man.â
The old man in question sticks his tongue out at you. âListen, I got a very important phone call earlier today,â he says, and your heart starts thundering in your chest. Could itâŚ?
âYuta! Thing Two!â Maki hollers, like she too can sense whatâs about to happen, knows that you want Yuta to hear it too. Toge makes an offended squeak and stumbles out of the kitchen, Yuta on his heels, head tilted inquisitively.
When youâre all crowded around the phone, hanging onto Gojoâs every word, he finally tells you.
âYou, my friends,â he says slowly, breaking out into a genuine grin, âare going to the Olympics.â
â
JULY 28, 2028.
âMe!â you holler as you dive for the ball thatâs coming right to the center, twisting just in time to get it back over the net and nearly scraping your knee on the court in the process. You scramble back, panting as Maki returns the next hit.
She catches your eye ever so briefly, and you know exactly what she wants you to do.
With an imperceptible nod, you shift back into position. On the next rally, Maki returns it long, forcing the opponent all the way back to the line.
And when they send it sailing to the far end of your box, youâre right there waiting with your racket in the air.
Your strike is decisive, swift, a bullet on an unstoppable trajectory. Itâs high, and then itâs low, and itâs too shallow for the women on the other side of the court to get there in time.
The ball lands, uncontested, in no manâs land.
And the whole world erupts.
âHoly shit!â Makiâs screaming in your ear, and youâre grinning and sweating and laughing out loud, and then your gaze lands on a very familiar pair of eyes sparkling in the stands.
âGo, you stupid lovebird!â Maki shouts, shoving you toward him. And you go to leap right over the barrier, right into Yutaâs waiting arms, and kiss him in front of all the cameras and the tabloids and the fans.
âYou did it!â he calls over the din, smile splitting his face as he pulls back. âYou won the fucking Olympics!â
Nobara is on you then, nearly tackling you back over the barrier, and then sheâs kissing Maki on the lips in public, which Maki would never allow under any other circumstances in the entire world. But youâre gold medalistsâfor that matter, so is Nobara, fresh off her first Olympic victory the day beforeâand right now anything is possible.
The whole celebration is a haze, and everyone is hereâGojo, Shoko, Akari, Kusakabe. Yuji and Megumi. Riko, the twins. Even Mai is there, and you swear to god you see her and Maki hug.
âI am so goddamn proud of you,â Gojo says in your ear, and then heâs stepping back, letting you get swept away by the press. In front of the sponsored Olympic backdrop, cameras glowing in your faces, you and Maki recount the best moment of your lives.
âI knew she had it,â Maki says, arm around your shoulder. âThey donât call her Ace for nothing.â
âShe set me up perfectly,â you say, elbowing her for trying to give you all the credit. Itâs hard to focus on the interviewers talking to you when the whole of Carson Courts is bursting with celebration, but you manage to get through a series of questions before another news outlet pulls Maki away.
Seizing the opportunity, the reporter on your right catches sight of Yuta and hauls him into frame. He stumbles into you, caught off guard, but the guyâs already talking.
âThe famous couple, fresh off a pair of golds! Tell me, how does it feel? And Mr. Okkotsu, why back to doubles?â
âIt feels amazing,â you say breathlessly, hand on Yutaâs back. He still gets shy in front of the press, even after all this time. âI mean, winning the Olympics at home? Right in Cali? I couldnât ask for anything more. And doing it in tandem, it makes it even better.â
âYeah,â Yuta says, latching onto your words. âIt really does. And doublesâyou know, if it werenât for her, I donât know if I ever would have realized how much I love playing this sport as a pair.â
âYou donât mind sharing the glory?â another reporter presses, shoving a mic closer to Yuta.
âNo,â he shrugs honestly, briefly scanning the crowdâfor Toge, probably, but you know heâs got to be wreaking havoc elsewhere by now. âI mean, learning to stand on your own is important. Great, even. In the end, though, on that podium⌠god, itâs better to be half of a whole.â
He glances at you, smiling. âGloryâs not meant to be a solo endeavor.â
âA double endeavor,â you grin, leaning into his side.
âWould you ever consider mixed doubles? Playing together?â someone else calls.
âWe play together all the time,â you say. âAnd love it. But Maki and I are gonna ride this wave as far as itâll take us.â
Yuta laughs. âSame here.â He and Toge are a well-oiled machine. Yesterday, they took the gold by beating down a total asshole from Japan named Mahito and that blond-haired ponytail guy from the Cincinnati Open, whoâs apparently become a doubles player as well.
You finally ditch the reporters and catch the end of another interview of Makiâs, where sheâs politely declining to comment on her cousinâs incredible downfall. She canât entirely hide the smug look on her face, though, and you canât blame her. Watching Naoya do horribly this year has been a source of immense joy.
Itâs been a long road to get here. Years and years of training, long bouts of competition, the lowest of lows and the highest of highs. But you have never been alone. Makiâs always been at your side. Yutaâs always been your biggest supporter. Gojo even managed to keep coaching you and Maki independently after you graduated, giving up the head coaching job to Kusakabe and staying on as an assistant.
âYou donât have to,â youâd said, sitting in his office when he told you and Maki the news.
âI know,â he said. âBut you guys are something special. And I want to see this all the way through, if youâll let me.â
Gojo has so much pride in his students, and he has so much pride in you. Between him and Shoko, you have all the support you could ever ask for, plus all of their many professional connections and several of your college teammates, who have gone on to have incredible careers.
And watching Gojo guide you through your career has sparked something in Yuta, too.
âI think I want to be a coach,â he tells you later, when youâre back in your hotel room, sprawled out on the bed with womenâs swimming coverage on in the background. âWhen this is all over, I mean.â
You prop yourself up on an elbow, raising a brow. âWhen this is all over?â
He grins sheepishly. âLike, when I retire.â
âSo next year?â
He swats at you as you devolve into laughter, insisting, âI am not that much older than you!â
You stick your tongue out, very maturely, and he starts tickling you, which is a cheap move that guarantees his victory.
âYuta!â
âYes, Ace?â
âStop thâhey!â
You have only one card left to play. You squirm your way out of his grasp and then launch yourself at him, pushing him back down on the bed by the shoulders, and kiss him.
All tickling efforts immediately cease.
The court is your first love. You never anticipated youâd have the space in your heart for anything more, and even if you did⌠it scared you more than youâd have liked to admit. Your own personal no manâs land.
But with Yuta, itâs not a challenge. Itâs not an obstacle. He taught you to navigate no manâs land, and apparently that wasnât only true on the court.
This? This is easy.
The next day, thereâs a headline from The Athletic in your inbox, forwarded from Gojo. You sidle up to Yutaâs side with your computer open in your lap, clicking into the new tab.
âA double endeavor,â he reads out loud, chuckling. âYou sure are quotable.â Your names are just below the bold lettering, detailing your pair of gold medals and then launching into a history of your tennis career with Maki, then Yutaâs journey from doubles player to singles and back to doubles at Togeâs side.
âIn many ways, itâs been a parallel journey for this pair of standouts,â you read, scrolling down the page. âBut in others, itâs been a map of crossed paths and opportunities, ups and downs.â
Itâs trueâso many things had to happen to get you to this point. All the people you met, beat, lost to. Every grueling hour on the court. Thousands and thousands of hours, choices, steps, hits, all to get you right here, right now.
âOne thing is for sure: Former Olympian and renowned coach Satoru Gojo was right when he told us, âYou havenât seen the last of these guys.â For all four of them, whether in singles or doubles play, the stars of this generation of tennis players are just getting started.â
âAw,â Yuta hums. âGojo said that?â
You donât miss a beat. âYeah, I paid him to.â
âOh, shut up.â
You close the computer, sliding it onto the bedside table, and look up at Yuta. âOh? Make me.â
Yutaâs grin is slow and lazy, rays of sunlight slipping through the blinds and lighting him up in gold.
âWell,â he says, one hand on your jaw. âI do like a challenge.â
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a/n: NOTHING MAKES ME MORE PATRIOTIC THAN THE OLYMPICS i hate this country but also RAHHHH you know what i mean
it's finally over !! i truly am sorry to have left you hanging for so long. balancing the full-time job and grad school and somehow still having a social life is a lot but i hope the wait was worth it! thanks for all your support !! feel free to blow up my asks, i love talking about these silly little anime AUs (or anything at all) with you all <3
AHHH CONGRATS ON FINISHING THIS OH MY GOSHHH đđđ Yuta tennis player Okkotsu Iâll never forget you omg Rachel thank you for bringing this absolute magic to life <333 what a ride this one was đĽš
đž no man's land đ match point: a double endeavor
olympian!yuta x d1!reader | directory | prev.
summary: at the division one level, tennis is more than a sport. itâs your livelihood, and with your doubles partner maki training overseas for the summer, you know you need to step up your game for your last season. luckily for you, your coach has connections. and who better to train you than a rising star olympian? over the course of the summer, youâll push each other to your breaking points, and maybe farther. set by set, day by day, you start to untangle the mystery that is yuta okkotsu, the man he is off the court and the force he is on it. you might have finally met your match. but just like alwaysâitâs all in the name of the game.
warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, more excessive use of italics and em-dashes, naoya being naoya, maki and mai and the weirdest sibling dynamic in the world, satosugu probably i mean come on, also rachel try not to put itafushi in a fic challenge level impossible, uraume plays women's tennis bc it's harder, florida, time jumps/flash forward, olyyyympiiiiics, the second half of this is basically an epilogue
|| sfw. 9.2k words.
WHEN YUTA STROLLSÂ onto the court the next morning, thereâs a new calmness about him, a relaxed easiness to his gait that for some reason makes you smile. Part of you thinks you might be more nervous for this match than he isâall of you are, Maki on your left and Toge on your right, tense with anticipation.
Opposite Yuta on the court stands Naoya Zenin, leering, arrogant. The sun makes their silhouettes stretch long and spindly along the ground, exaggerated puppets of their true forms.
As the two of them approach the net to shake hands, Maki goes rigid beside you. Toge is fully ready to start booing before you elbow him in the ribs.
Thereâs a low exchanging of words, and you canât help remembering what Naoya said to Toge at their match. Worthless son. Great expectations.
What has he dug up on Yuta? God, you hope heâs not spewing shit about Rika or something. No doubt that Naoya would stoop that low.
But Yuta looks at ease as he walks back to his side of the court, and youâre a bit far away to tell, but you think Naoya might even look a little annoyed.
The asshole serves first, and you hold your breath as he sends a ball to Yutaâs boxâitâs slow, easy to hit, Naoyaâs attempt at throwing off his opponent early.
And Yuta just stands there and lets it hit the ground.
You clap a hand over your mouth as Toge starts giggling beside you.
âHoly shit,â Maki says.
Holy shit, indeed.
Yuta is doing to Naoya exactly what Naoya did to Toge. Psyching him out. Playing with him. You arenât sure if you want to congratulate him or run down to the court and shake him by the shoulders.
But you trust Yuta. You trust his ability and his knowledge of that ability. He gave up a point because he knows he can get it back, and that confidence says volumes. Naoya is absolutely off his game now.
Yuta service breaks in the first game. Wins the second. The third is Naoyaâs again, but heâs already faltering, no match for the unpredictability of Yutaâs movements, the sporadic nature of his serves. His aces, right into no manâs land.
By the time Yuta takes the first set, whatever apprehension youâd been feeling about this match is somewhere deep in the gutter, melted off you like snow in spring. Itâs earlyâin theory, Naoya could still get this back. But you know for a fact that he wonât.
With the lead secured, Yuta continues to play with Naoyaâs emotions, building off his frustration as he racks up games. When Naoya snags a point, Yuta grins at him, and Naoya nearly throws his racket into the ground.
On set three, Yuta puts on a show, makes it close, but everyone knows damn well he just let Naoya win. And then⌠then he lets him win set four, too.
Itâs unlike him to draw it out like this. Yuta is a good sport, not manipulative, there to win the game fair and square. Heâs already won and everyone here knows it. But the crowd isnât upset, even as the match enters its fourth hour. Theyâre eating this up, watching Naoya Zenin get played like a fiddle.
Toge is downright giddy beside you. Maki is thoroughly enjoying watching Naoya get pummeled, and you donât say anything when she quietly pulls her phone out and records for a few minutes. Footage of Naoya losing his shit. Perfect for a rainy day.
Yuta runs Naoya Zenin into the ground. When he snags the final point, he doesnât so much as smile, just leveling Naoya with a calm expression from across the court. The rage that sweeps over Naoyaâs face is heated and visceral, and you and Maki have to physically turn around because youâre laughing so hard.
You donât kiss Yuta in front of everyone, but you waste no time doing so as soon as you get him behind closed doors.
â
âAre you dating?â Toge asks casually as you hit back and forth, wiggling his eyebrows as he sends the ball across the court to Maki.
Youâre back on campus, and Yuta and Toge are joining you until a few days before the invitational. For the last few days, theyâve been testing you and Maki as a unit, but today youâve switched up your pairings for a change of pace.
Are you dating?
What a question. You havenât talked about that, the label, but not because of any hesitationâit just hasnât seemed important, in the grand scheme of things. Youâre⌠something, certainly. But is he your boyfriend?
Apparently youâve hesitated too long, so Toge shouts to the other side. âYuta! Are you guys dating?â
Yuta stumbles, wide-eyed, and misses the ball.
âOh my god.â You make a pleading face at Maki, but she just smirks.
âYeah, Ace,â she calls. âYou guys dating?â
Yuta straightens, making eye contact with you over the net. Heâs wearing black shorts and a white tank, which is a stupid decision but one youâre infinitely grateful for. Itâs scorching, and all of you are drenched in sweat. The image of the fabric clinging to Yutaâs torso is⌠not an unpleasant one, to say the least.
He shrugs with one shoulder, as if to say Iâm cool if youâre cool.
You shrug back. Sure.
âYes,â he says firmly. A grin breaks out across your face unbidden. That warm, fluttery thing thatâs been rooted in your chest for months now seems to hum a little. âYes, we are.â
âOh my god, yeah you are,â Toge gapes. âYou just did that creepy twin thing where you have a whole conversation without talking.â
You snort and make to swat him with your racket, and he nearly falls on his ass dodging your swing. âMaybe donât compare us to twins when we just told you weâre in a relationship.â
âCreepy couple thing,â Toge amends, serving a new ball. Your rallies are long, your hits all over the place, and even alongside Maki you can see the love of doubles in Yutaâs playstyle, how much heâs remembering his own joy as he moves across the court. Itâs addicting to watch, and you have to make a conscious effort to focus on your own game.
The days go by, and it feels like nothing has changed, even though in a way, everything has.
Yuta Okkotsu is your boyfriend.
Nobody seems surprised, but Nobara does scream so loud in her apartment that the girl from across the hall comes over to make sure sheâs okay. She and Toge go back and forth between terrorizing each other and everyone else. Gojo loudly gives Yuta the shovel talk in front of your entire team, and you want to die, but Yuta just stands there smiling politely and then says, seriously, âIf I ever hurt her, everyone on this court better come after me with everything they have.â
Shoko just looks all-knowing and unfazed. Tsumiki asks if she should give you the safe sex talk with a shit-eating grin on her face. Ino starts sending you Instagram reels of Yutaâs matches captioned do u know him?
The assistant coaches are back from their big coaching convention or workshop or whatever that Shoko and Gojo skipped out on, so now your practices are more structured, with Kusakabe and Nitta around to pick up some of the slack. You throw yourself into the extra work, and you keep going after hours, when Yuta and Toge drill you and Maki into the ground.
And then, after after hours, Yutaâs all yours.
He takes you on a date to a nearby restaurant, hat pulled low over his face to avoid recognition.
Then he takes you on another one and doesnât bother hiding. You raise a questioning brow when he picks you up outside your building with no hat or sunglasses, and he just shrugs. âLet them know,â he says. âYour heart is more impressive than anything else Iâve ever won.â
He says it so casually. You donât stop thinking about it the entire night, not when he takes your hand and leads you down the street, not when he pays for your ice cream at the corner shop, not when he kisses you in front of the California sunset and whispers âIâm so in love with youâ against the shell of your ear.
You say it back.
Everything about it feels right. He just fits perfectly into your routine, inside and outside of tennis, with or without the rest of your friends present. Somehow heâs become so integral to all aspects of your life over the span of just a few months.
Heâs not your âother half.â You are both whole, and when youâre together, your Venn diagram becomes a circle. Itâs just⌠easy.
Toward the end of August, you drive him and Toge to the airport. The US Open is coming up, and your whole team is in full training mode anyway. Even though itâs the second year of the pilot program, itâs strange, this being a fall sport. You like it like this, the immediacy of it. A fresh start on all fronts.
Before Yuta gets out of the passenger seat, he kisses you and says, âBe back soon.â Like itâs normal. Like youâve always done this. Like youâre going to keep doing this for the rest of your lives.
Youâre grinning the whole way home.
â
âIâm going to kill you!â
Ah, some things never change.
Iori Utahime stands glowering up at a relaxed, smirking Gojo, her fists clenched and shaking so violently you half expect her to combust. Sheâs red in the face and absolutely livid, and youâve been here for all of⌠you glance at your watch.
Four minutes.
Youâre familiar with the Kyoto campus and most of the players on its tennis team. Most are welcome faces, but there are a few you never know quite what to do with.
Mai, for instance.
No matter how many times you see them interact, no matter how many times Maki explains that she and her sister have an understanding, you do not understand how they actually feel about each other. Theyâll spit lethal words at each other and then shrug and shake hands. In some ways, they remind you of a pair of middle school boysâhaving a fight, punching each other, and calling it even.
They donât greet each other when you and Maki walk onto the court. Mai just looks at her coolly, and Maki inclines her head ever so slightly.
âI donât get you,â you say for the thousandth time. âAre you mad at each other?â
âNo more than we usually are,â Maki says unhelpfully.
Geto has stepped between Gojo and Utahimeâfinally done with embarrassing the twins in front of everyoneâand Utahime stalks off in the other direction, fuming, as Geto and Gojo settle into their weâre flirting in front of the students and weâre going to deny it later routine.
âYou guys!â Kasumi Miwa shouts as she runs up to you and Maki, towing Muta behind her. âHi! Itâs been so long!â
âHey, Kasumi.â You grin, accepting her side-hug and nodding at Mutaâheâs shy, but kind, always at Kasumiâs back looking unsure of whether he should join the conversation. âNobara says hi.â
âOh, I love her,â Kasumi says, like she does every time. âTell her hi back, will you? We should hang out.â
Across the court, Todo and Choso are having some kind of standoff while Yuji flits anxiously between them. Megumi has abandoned him in favor of slinking off with Ino and Hakari, and Junpei is warming up with Riko near the gate.
You love this organized chaos, the way the energy of a matchday builds up in the air until everyoneâs buzzing with it. And itâs all the better when all these people are your friends, and the sun is high in the sky, and you all want the same thing: to win, and to have a good fucking time doing it.
The Kyoto Tech Invitational is a standard tournament format with three simultaneous doubles matches, but unlike actual NCAA play, the guys and girls arenât scoring separately. Everyone plays doubles and singles, because this is a mock tournament made possible mostly by the fact that Gojo and Geto canât stay away from each other for that long.
Itâs a preseason exercise. Not that you ever take it as such. This is a competition as much as anything else, and you intend to win.
Nanami, per usual, is the one to rein everyone in and get things going. He coaches the menâs team and Geto coaches the womenâs team, but they for the most part all train together, not dissimilar to the way Gojo and Shoko run things at Kaisen.
The tournament starts with doubles, three simultaneous matches. Ino and Junpei are on the far court with Hakari and Choso in the middle, but Yuji and Megumiâs match is the one youâre focused on. Because theyâre up against the lethal combination of Noritoshi and Todo.
Getoâs calling their match, and it escalates fast. Yuji and Megumi are all speed, but Todo is raw strength. Coupled with Noritoshiâs impeccable technique, theyâre a tough battle. By the time the other guys have wrapped up their matches, Yuji and Megumi have just won game four, tying it up 2-2.
The sun is blazing, so youâre glad when it doesnât go all the way to a tiebreak round. Todo dives for a lowball from Yuji, and just when it looks like heâs not going to make it, somehow Noritoshi is there in his stead, slamming it back to Megumi at an insane angle.
Youâre sure he doesnât stand a chance. But he loosens his grip on his racket ever so slightly, letting it slide nearly out of his hand, to reach the ball on the right side. And then he turns his entire body with the racket to build up momentum, enough to get it back over the net, and the move was so unexpected Todo doesnât reach for it in time.
âShit,â you breathe, thoroughly impressed. Yujiâs all over Megumi, crowing about how amazing he is, and Megumi just shrugs nonchalantly like he doesnât care.
You know he does. Especially when he catches Gojoâs proud dad smile from the sideline and promptly faces the other direction, ducking his head to hide the flush on his face.
You and Maki are up against Mai and Kasumi, to nobodyâs surprise. Usually, you wind up feeling like an accessory to Makiâs weird, silent battle with her sister. But this time, youâre locked in. Youâre matching them all hit for hit, then surpassing themâonly one side of this court has been training with Olympians all summer. And it doesnât take long for that to show.
âThat was amazing,â Kasumi pants at the end, stumbling up to the net to shake your hand. âYouâwow, guys, good job.â
Mai strides silently up to the net, looking you up and down, then doing the same to Maki. Maki holds her gaze, raising a brow.
They silently shake hands over the netâonce, firm, like a business transaction. And then they turn away from each other.
You will never understand them.
Your match wrapped up before Riko and Kiraraâs, and you tune in just in time to hear Haibara, one of the assistant coaches, call it in favor of Kyoto. Momo is a beast on the court. Thereâs something so biologically impossible about how high she can jump. You swear to god sheâs a witch or something.
Rikoâs sulking, but Kirara is already animatedly discussing strategy with Momo, ready to take the loss in stride and use it to improve their play.
At one point the Kyoto trainer, Ijichi, slinks out to supervise some of the singles matches while Utahime makes a lunch run âto get Gojo out of her face for two goddamn minutes.â Itâs a whirlwind of sets and sweat, camaraderie and rivalry, shared stories and arguments.
By the end of the day, Kaisen has taken Kyoto by just a few points, and youâre dead on your feet.
samurai:Â howâd it go?
you:Â killed makiâs sister in doubles. got momo for singles, sheâs brutal
samurai:Â but you won! :)
you:Â you know what they say about assuming
samurai:Â but iâm right
You laugh, a little dumbfounded still by Yutaâs wholehearted faith in you.
you:Â yes you are
you:Â and you? how goes the slam
samurai:Â decent so far
You already looked up the scores. Yuta is doing a lot fucking better than decent.
You send him an article from The Athletic waxing poetic about how he might just be the best tennis player of this generation.
Heâs quiet for a few minutes, and then:
samurai:Â ah. well
samurai:Â i was thinking you about the whole time
â
You catch Yuta and Toge on TV when you can, record them when you canât. After all⌠thatâs your boyfriend. Your pro tennis player boyfriend.
He wins the US Open. Heâs in the Davis Cup. Heâs a legend.
And in the NCAA circles, youâre becoming a legend, too.
As the season goes on, you and Maki are an unstoppable force. You feel amazing, you play amazing, and nowâyouâre bringing that energy into your singles play. You were always the best womenâs doubles players in the conference. But now, youâre holding your own.
There are four ways to qualify for NCAA Championships, scattered throughout the fall season. Gojo and Shoko split you up accordingly, strategically, finding the best routes for each of you to give it your best shot.
You and Maki qualify in late September through the All-American Championships, pulling out a win over a pair of crazy good girls from Washington. When you walk off the court, Shoko grins at you and says, âI canât wait to watch you kick ass like that in the Olympics, kid.â
Yuji and Megumi represent the guys, and though theyâre runners-up, they still qualify for Championships by a landslide.
Yuta calls you that night and whispers to you over the phone. He wants you to come out to his place for a weekend when the seasonâs over.
âI know Iâm not home a lot, but I want you to see that part of me,â he murmurs. âAnd⌠I want to see you in that part of my life, you know? I want to see you with messy hair looking out the window in my bedroom. I want to kiss you awake and make you coffee and make fun of your morning breathââ
âExcuse you.â
ââand,â he says, talking over you, âI want to give you a key.â
You freeze.
âWhat?â
âI⌠sorry. Is that coming on too strong? I know itâs only been a couple months, I justââ
âYuta,â you cut in, before he can go on spiraling. âNo, IâI was just surprised. I would love to. I mean, I would love to see your place, and wake up with you, and put your key on my keychain.â Youâre a little bit breathless with the possibility of it. âAnd make fun of your morning breath, which is objectively worse than mine.â
âExcuse you!â
In October, Kirara and Riko and the twins go to regionals. Ino and Junpei win sectionals in November. Then itâs time for Conference Masters, and you and Maki go all-in just for the hell of it, Hakari and Choso on your heels. Itâs a crazy season, and a mix of players from both teams qualify in doubles and singles combinations.
And through it all, youâre playing the best you ever have, somehow balancing school and tennis and the reality of having a serious relationship in the middle of it all.
And then the season is nearly over, and the Championships are on the horizon, and all of your blood and sweat and tears have been for this.
If you win this, that Accelerator spot is yours.
â
The East Coast is so different from your ownâpalm trees and ocean salt, sure, but Florida is more humid. The air holds the moisture blown in from the warmer ocean currents, and you feel like youâre sweating bullets the second you step off the plane.
NCAA Championships are in Orlando, as always, at the USTA National Campus. You and Maki spent the flight going over the rosters and the bracket, the standout players who have the potential to really give you some trouble.
To qualify for the Accelerator in singles, you need to get to the quarterfinals. But you know thatâs not enough for you. You want to win.
There arenât many competitors here to play both doubles and singles. Even from your team, only a handful of players have made it this farâYuji and Megumi in doubles, along with Hakari and Choso. Kirara and Ino in singles.
And you and Maki, for both.
âAt least itâs November,â she offers dryly as you make your way through the airport to the waiting bus. âImagine being in this hellhole in July.â
âDid you just call Florida a hellhole?â Yuji squawks. âThis is heaven. I want to live here.â
âYouâre a moron,â Megumi says flatly.
Yuji beams.
âHead count, you obnoxious children!â Shoko calls, herding the lot of you toward the entrance while Gojo is being absolutely no help, insisting that the airport is the best place to buy donuts right now. Shoko swats him on the back of the head and shoves him toward the bus.
âOw,â he whines.
âAlright, give me the matchups,â Kusakabe calls once youâre all on the bus. Heâs pacing up and down the aisle, handing out brackets, and you scan up and down the row for the Round of 64, then 32, then 16, trying to guess the most likely opponents like you did on the plane.
Youâre not worried about the first round, or even the second, although you recognize a few names. Flipping to the doubles bracket, you see that you and Maki are facing a pair of girls from Texas.
Sure enough, all of you kill the Round of 64 in singles. The next day, the doubles matches start as well, kicking off with the Round of 32 because of the smaller draw.
Nobara calls you right before your singles match.
âSaori!â she yells in lieu of a greeting, and you grimace, pulling the phone away from your ear.
âHeadphone warning, my god.â
âYouâre playing Saori!â she repeats, ignoring your protests. âRemember her? We grew up together!â
You groan. âNobara! Donât tell me that!â Maki glances at you as you walk toward the courts, and you smirk. âNow Iâm gonna feel bad when I kick her ass.â
You shove your phone into Makiâs hand and grin as you walk onto the court, leaving Maki to entertain her girlfriend while you take on her childhood best friend and, hopefully, crush her.
âI hear we have a mutual friend,â you tell Saori as you shake her hand over the net. Sheâs pretty, short brown hair with windswept bangs and wide brown eyes, and you know for a fact that Nobara had a crush on her as a kid.
âBara?â Saori laughs, her voice bright and airy. âWell, donât let her make you feel too bad if you beat me.â Sheâs teasing, but thereâs a truth in her voice that startles you. The fact that youâve been training with Yuta isnât a secret. You just havenât quite realized the extent of your reputation until itâs staring you in the face, accepting loss before the match even starts.
You know youâre going to win. She knows, too. But you can tell sheâs going to give it her all, anyway.
And she does, but itâs not enough.
The first game goes your way, then the next, and the next. Saori isnât as fast as Maki or Yuta or Toge, as fast as you, and you realize halfway through the first set that you can flawlessly predict her movements. All those hours of you and Yuta analyzing film, of him drilling you on match strategy, are paying off. Never has your progress felt as tangible as it does right now.
By the time youâve swept her in two sets, you still feel ready to play three more.
Saori smiles resignedly, panting as you approach the net to wish her a good game.
âYouâre real good, you know,â she says. âTell Bara I said hi.â
You and Maki beat the girls from Texas the same day, moving onto the Round of 16, and the next day is just as muggy and sweltering as ever. What a sad excuse for autumn. But itâs hard to even be irritated by the heat when youâre playing at your best, and Yutaâs dominating the US Open, and the rest of your team is steadily progressing through their respective matchups.
Old friends seem to be a trend. The next girl you play catches Yujiâs eye immediately, and after you beat her, he rushes up to her and practically tackles her right on the spot.
âOzawa! Hi!â Yuji grins, pulling her into a hug. She yelps, but smiles when he pulls back. âItâs so good to see you, how have you been?â
They devolve into small talk while Megumi stands beside Yuji, reluctantly polite. To anyone else, he probably looks his stoic self. To you, he looks annoyed and territorial. You catch a few snippets of Yujiâs ramblings and figure out that the two of them went to high school together.
âShe was into you,â Megumi tells Yuji flatly as you all make your way to the far courts to watch Inoâs match.
âWhat?â
Kirara snorts and throws her arm around Yuji, ruffling his hair like heâs her little brother. âOh, Yuji, you sweet summer child.â
Yuji just beams. âAw, thanks!â
â
You knew you could beat Saori.
This new girl, youâre not so sure.
Hana Kurusu stands on the other side of the net with flawless form, looking entirely at ease in a way that unsettles you. This is a girl whoâs confident on the ball. This is a girl who can give you a run for your money. Her name isnât new to youâsheâs been making big waves up in New York this year.
But itâs only the quarterfinals. Youâre not done yet. Youâre going to win it all.
Kiraraâs out for the count as of this morning, and Choso and Hakari are fighting for their spot right this second. You refuse to be the next one to fall.
âLove-love,â Hana calls, her voice unnervingly sweet, and she sends a bullet your way. You have to dive for it, but you return, and then youâre rallying and you know this wonât be easy. Sheâs got a lethal slice, but now, so do you.
The game goes to her, but you win your service game. 1-1.
Her facial expressions donât change no matter what happens. She snags a point with a clever lowball, and the set of her brows doesnât even remotely move. You get a service break to take game three, and she doesnât even blink.
You already know what Yujiâs going to say. Do you think sheâs a robot? Imagine tennis-playing robots. Should we make one?
Itâs not until you win set one that you finally get her to crack. The official calls it in your favor, and you simply nod rather than breaking out in a grin, wanting to give Hana a taste of her own unnervingly non-expressive medicine.
She turns around to face the fence and takes a breath so deep you can see her shoulders move. Composing herself.
Got her.
After that, itâs easier to get under her skin, easier to tell where the flow of the game is taking you. Sheâs a tough opponent, but halfway into the second set, you know this is a victory you can pull off, so long as you donât let up. Sheâs giving you hell, but youâre serving it right back.
Set two is yours. You advance.
When you get off the court, Yujiâs there bouncing on the balls of his feet, Megumi and Maki standing behind him with more subdued pride.
âGood job!â Yuji throws his arms around you and you laugh, hugging him back. âChoso and Hakari lost. We have to avenge them.â
That means that as far as doubles go, itâs just you, Maki, Yuji, and Megumi in the semis. In singles, you, Maki, and Ino are the last ones standing.
âShe was a menace,â Maki says as she slaps you on the shoulder in congratulations.
You groan. âThat girl has one facial expression.â
âDo you think sheâs a robot?â Yuji gasps. You canât explain to him why youâre laughing so hard.
In doubles semifinals, you and Maki take down a pair of sisters from the Midwest, and Yuji and Megumi shut down their opponents in three sets. Maki narrowly loses her singles match and Ino narrowly wins his. You prevail over Momo Nishimiya in a brutal three-set match that goes to the tiebreak game, not nailing her down until the last second, when you fake her out on a lowball that she was expecting to have to jump for.
Just like that, youâre in the finals.
That night, the lot of you are gathered in the hotel common space, sprawled out on the spread of couches and armchairs talking or playing cards. Makiâs phone on the coffee table lights up with a FaceTime call from Nobara, and she glances around, as if asking for permission to take it.
For all Makiâs confidence, sheâs so shy about her relationship. Nobara is one of the most physically affectionate people you know, but Maki avoids PDA like the plague. Sheâs even hesitant to take a call in front of the team, like itâs somehow disruptive. But itâs Nobara. She might as well be an honorary tennis playerâGojo once offered to make her the mascot, much to her indignation.
In Makiâs hesitation, you reach forward and pick up the call in her stead.
âHellooooo,â she sings as soon as the call connects. âMy wifeâoh, youâre not my wife. I mean, youâre also my wife, but youâre not my wife wife, you know? Hi.â She grins. Sheâs splayed on the floor of her dorm room, one cheek imprinted with the pattern of her rug.
Maki rolls her eyes and wrenches the phone from your grasp as a chorus of âHi, Nobara!â and âKugisaki!â sounds from around the room.
Nobara starts yapping immediately, and then your phone lights up with a phone call.
Suddenly, you understand Makiâs trepidation on a very deep level.
âWhoâs samurai?â Ino grins, leaning over your shoulder. You swat at him, and he just wiggles his eyebrows.
âShut up,â you grumble, sliding to accept and putting the phone to your ear. âHi.â
âHi.â You can hear the smile in his voice. âHeard you killed it today.â
âAre you surprised?â you tease, ignoring the heart Yuji is obnoxiously making with his hands.
Megumi kicks him in the ankle, and when Yuji looks mortally offended, he just glances pointedly down at their abandoned card game and says, âItâs your turn, dipshit.â
âNever,â Yuta says. âWhoâs on the docket tomorrow?â
âPut it on speaker, coward!â Hakari yells from across the room, and Yuta snorts. You flip him off.
âUraume. Theyâre... really good.â After all, they're the ones who knocked Maki out of the singles competition. And that's not something to be taken lightly.
âFrom Virginia? I remember the news articles about the school admin letting them choose between menâs and womenâs. It was a whole thing.â
Indeed, it had been. And Uraume had chosen womenâs tennis, because itâs always been the harder sport, and anyone who canât see that is a moron. Forget five sets. Women donât need all that wiggle room to prove their worth.
âYep,â you say, popping the p. Yuta hums thoughtfullyâhe knows Uraumeâs reputation as well as you do. And itâs a damn good one.
âAh, well, youâll kill it.â
You feel suddenly vulnerable. Because what if you donât? What if going up against Uraume is where your luck runs out?
Reading your silence, Yuta says, softer, âDonât sell yourself short, Ace. You deserve better than that.â
You look around the room at your team. At some point, Choso and Hakari started arm wrestling. Kirara is debating the merits of some metal band with Ino next to where Megumi and Yuji play cardsâyouâre pretty sure Megumiâs letting him win just to see if he noticesâand Maki is trying not to blush as Nobara loudly talks about how hot it is when she serves.
You love your team, and you love your sport. You didnât think you needed anything more. But Yuta is a quiet, steady reassurance in your ear that you canât help but lean into.
âThanks,â you whisper, smiling softly. âYâknow, youâre not half bad at the pep talk thing.â
âYeah, I practiced that one in the mirror all morning.â
âShut the fuck up,â you laugh.
Thereâs a silence in which you can just see Yutaâs smirk. âWish you could make me.â
â
The finals.
Today is all or nothing, and it wonât be easy for you in particularâyou have your doubles match in the morning and your final head-to-head against Uraume just hours later. Itâs almost unheard of for a player to take home national singles and doubles titles in the same year, let alone on the same day. Even the thought of it makes your muscles burn.
Your phoneâs been silent this morning. Yutaâs been in Spain this week for the Davis Cup, and the finals areâwereâtoday. Time differences, and all that. Italy always wins, it seems, but the U.S. put up a good fight. You figure heâs out enjoying MĂĄlaga while it lasts.
Itâs clear a half-second into the match that youâre going to have to fight for this one. The girl servingâRemiâhas deceitfully innocent-looking bubble braids, and sheâs lithe but so fast you nearly miss the return. Her partner, Takako, seems to move through the air like itâs a part of her, and itâs a constant struggle to keep up with the way she takes space.
But itâs you and Maki. Youâve taken this title before, and you know damn well you can do it again.
These girls donât make it easy. You stretch it to three sets, and then a piercing whistle draws your attention to the stands after a game point.
At first you think youâre hallucinating. The heatâs gotten to you. Youâre just making shit up.
But no, there he is. Yuta Okkotsu, an Olympian at an NCAA womenâs tennis match, looking jet-lagged as all hell, and grinning proudly at you from the bottom of the bleachers.
âOh my god,â Maki hisses in your ear as you swap sides. âYou know what that means, right? That he skipped out on the Italy match to fly his ass back here.â
âSimp,â you say, grinning.
Your heart swells.
And you and Maki kick absolute ass.
â
âI canât believe you came all the way here.â You lean into Yutaâs side, the gorgeous Floridian sunset stretched out before you.
The curb of a local gas station isnât inherently the most romantic place in the world. But you wanted ice cream, and the clouds are lit up with purples and oranges, and Yuta is at your side, and it all feels a little bit surreal.
âYou should be enjoying Spain!â you go on, nudging him with your elbow.
Yuta just smiles softly, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. âI wanted to be here.â
Heâs not lying, but thereâs something you canât quite parse in his expression. His eyes are a little⌠sad? Thereâs something heavy about him.
âYou played well, you know,â you say, knocking your knee against his.
âI know.â He sighs. âItâs not that. Sorry. I do want to be here. And I know itâs a huge privilege to just be able to go to Spain, and come back, andâjustâŚâ
You donât push. This is a familiar dance for you, now. He talks when heâs ready to talk.
For a while, the only sounds are softly chirping crickets and the rumble of passing cars, laughter floating from down the block, birds flitting between the trees. And then Yuta says, âItâs, uhâitâs Rikaâs birthday.â
You sit up, turning to face him fully. âOh, Yuta. IâŚâ
âI donât want you to feel bad, or anything,â he rushes, backpedaling the way he always does when heâs nervous. âI just didnât want you to think I was being weird because of you, or something, I donât know. I just⌠sorry.â
You reach out and lace your fingers through Yutaâs, resting your joined hands on his knee. âHey.â You wait until he looks at you, his wide, dark eyes reflecting the floodlights of the gas station parking lot. âNothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.â You squeeze his hand. âI⌠how are you doing? That feels like such a stupid question. But is there anything I can⌠I donât know, do? To help?â
Yuta softens a little, shakes his head gently. âYouâre helping,â he murmurs. âI came back early to see you play. To see you win. But also just to⌠see you. I thought it would help.â
On one of the hardest days of Yutaâs year, he thought seeing you would help. Enough that he flew back here from Spain to find out.
âI love you, yâknow,â you murmur. Something about the situation seems to call for hushed words, quiet affections.
âI love you too.â He seems to deflate in relief, having gotten this off his chest now. âYou just felt safer, somehow. Than all my teammates. They have good intentions, they just donât know. Which is my fault, too, obviously. I could have told them. I justâshe would have really liked you, you know? And you made me fall back in love with the game, Ace. No, I mean it,â he doubles down when you open your mouth. âYou did. And I think she would have been grateful for that. So it justâfelt right, to be here. With you.â
Yutaâs cheeks are a little flushed, partially with heat and partially with something sheepish and shy. You lean in and kiss him. Short, sweet. Easy. You want this to be easy for him.
âI didnât know Rika,â you say, not breaking eye contact. âBut I think sheâd be really goddamn proud of you, Yuta.â
He swallows once, hard, and swipes the back of his hand across his eyes with a wet laugh. âYeah?â
âYeah.â You scoot closer to Yuta on the curb and turn back to the sun, now almost hidden behind the horizon, and lean your head on his shoulder. âAnd Iâm proud of you, too.â
â
Uraume is a walking contradiction.
They canât be taller than 5â4â or so, and their thin build is covered by the baggiest tennis clothes youâve ever seen. Still, you know they have one of the strongest backhands in the country. They have the worst resting bitch face youâve ever seen, but as you shake hands at the net, they crack a little smile and say, âIâm excited to play you. Iâve watched you, you know.â
âOh?â Youâve watched Uraume, too, of course. Nobody gets to this stage of the competition without studying up.
âYou trying to take home both titles?â Uraume says, and doesnât wait for your response. âThatâs ballsy. I respect it.â They donât say good luck. Neither do you. Despite their words being sparse and stiff, you somehow take a liking to them immediatelyâtheyâre honest, and theyâre not here to play any mental games. Just the one you both love.
Itâs one of the hardest matches of your life.
Uraume doesnât pull any punches, and in the first set, they run you all over the court. But thereâs no malice in it, just calculated moves that prove their undeniable skill.
The second set is yours. As you pull back on a brutal slice that gets you the winning point, they look up through a shock of white hair and grin. Thatâs more like it, they seem to say. And then itâs their serve.
Sweat is pouring in a river down your back, and your breathing is fast and shallow, but you feel alive with it, the love of this sport. You have no idea whoâs winning this match. Itâs their game, your game, their game, your gameâyouâre even alternating every other point, youâre so well-matched. Theyâre making you fight for this.
Somebody hollers from the standsâYuji! He and Megumi must be done with their doubles final now, and have made their way over to your match. You sneak a glance out of the corner of your eye and find Megumi looking properly satisfied beside him. They won, then. Kaisen swept doubles. Ino lost his singles match earlier, which means as far as individual play goes, youâre the sole survivor. Heâs there too, next to Choso and Hakari, and beside them is Maki, looking entirely unconcerned. Like she knows you can do this.
And beside her is Yuta. He waves, a little shy, and you suddenly feel lighter on your feet.
By the time you reach the tiebreak game, youâre running purely on adrenaline. Uraume came into this match fresh and rested. You came into it right after one of the toughest doubles matches of your life.
Itâs match point.
And itâs Uraumeâs serve.
You have the disadvantage here and everybody knows it. Itâs like the bleachers are holding their collective breath. But you force yourself to breathe long and deep, not giving in to the urge to look back at Yuta, at Maki, at all your friends hanging onto your every move.
This oneâs yours.
Uraume raises their racket, and you realize with a jolt exactly where the ball is headed. It feels, somehow, like everything has led up to this moment. Every grueling training session with Yuta, every tournament at Makiâs side, every moment watching film in Gojoâs office. It was all for this, right here, right now.
Itâs headed to no manâs land.
And youâre ready.
Itâs a bullet of a ball, and you can tell Uraume meant for it to throw you off balance, butâhow could they know? This isnât your weak spot anymore. No manâs land isnât no manâs land to you, not after Yuta. Itâs yours.
You send it sailing back, and Uraume backpedals to return it to you. In their hesitation, they send it higher than they shouldâve. It sets you up perfectly.
You stretch out your arm, leap into the air, and slam that shit right back into Uraumeâs no manâs land.
It lands just inside the line.
This isnât your first rodeo, though. You know in your bones that was in, but itâs all down to the official now, and youâve had shit luck with umps in the past. There was this one back in sophomore year, Shiu Kong, and you swear to god he was getting paid off.
Across the court, Uraume is staring at you steadily, their head ever so slightly inclined. They know theyâve lost.
And Higuruma steps up to the line and calls, âIN!â
Just like that, itâs over. You let out a whoop, jumping into the air one more time just for the hell of it, and the stands erupt, your team clamoring right up against the fence.
Youâve won.
The second youâre out of the gate, your team is on you, full dog-pile, and even Maki is screaming, and Megumi mutters good fucking job in your ear and Gojo lifts you up and twirls you in the air and then Yuta pushes back your visor and kisses you in front of everybody, and this, this is everything.
Life is so, so good.
â
With your dual titleâsingles and doubles in the same yearâyou become a national sensation, qualify for the WTA College Accelerator, and segue smoothly into WTA play postgrad. And you and Yuta are doing life together, and it feels⌠right.
He takes you to his place up the coast, and soon it becomes as much your home as it is his. Your schedules are demanding, and the both of you are constantly traveling, sometimes together, sometimes not, but every time you come back to his little house on the waterline, and it feels perfect.
You and Maki have both proved yourself enough in singles, gravitated back to each other like binary stars. Youâre meant to play this game at each otherâs sides and you both know it, and soon youâre dominating the circuits as a unit, the way it always should have been.
And one day, you get a phone call from Gojo.
âWhatâs up?â you ask, yawning and accepting the smoothie Maki pushes into your hand. It's been years since you graduated, but Gojo simply never stopped being your coach. You never know if his calls are going to be real business or something stupid.
âAre you with Zenin right now?â
Maki picks up on his question and raises a brow, sitting down on the couch and motioning for you to join her. Toge is being obnoxious in Yutaâs kitchen and saying something about how if he puts every flavor of Gatorade into a blender, itâll give him superpowers.
You scoff at Gojoâs question. âDuh?â
The call turns into a FaceTime, and Gojoâs face fills the screen as you settle beside Maki. Heâs leaning back in his office chair, phone propped up on the desk, with his hair all messy after practice.
âWhat do you want?â Maki says, but thereâs no heat in it, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
âYou love me,â Gojo says. âListen. Ooh, Ieiri, câmere!â
Shoko must have been passing by in the hallway, because soon she appears beside him in the frame. âOh! Hey, you.â
âYou didnât look that excited to see me,â Gojo mutters.
âI see you every day, dipshit. Have you told them yet?â
âOh my god,â you cut in, wishing you could reach through the screen and grab Gojo by the shoulders. âTold us what? Cut to the chase, old man.â
The old man in question sticks his tongue out at you. âListen, I got a very important phone call earlier today,â he says, and your heart starts thundering in your chest. Could itâŚ?
âYuta! Thing Two!â Maki hollers, like she too can sense whatâs about to happen, knows that you want Yuta to hear it too. Toge makes an offended squeak and stumbles out of the kitchen, Yuta on his heels, head tilted inquisitively.
When youâre all crowded around the phone, hanging onto Gojoâs every word, he finally tells you.
âYou, my friends,â he says slowly, breaking out into a genuine grin, âare going to the Olympics.â
â
JULY 28, 2028.
âMe!â you holler as you dive for the ball thatâs coming right to the center, twisting just in time to get it back over the net and nearly scraping your knee on the court in the process. You scramble back, panting as Maki returns the next hit.
She catches your eye ever so briefly, and you know exactly what she wants you to do.
With an imperceptible nod, you shift back into position. On the next rally, Maki returns it long, forcing the opponent all the way back to the line.
And when they send it sailing to the far end of your box, youâre right there waiting with your racket in the air.
Your strike is decisive, swift, a bullet on an unstoppable trajectory. Itâs high, and then itâs low, and itâs too shallow for the women on the other side of the court to get there in time.
The ball lands, uncontested, in no manâs land.
And the whole world erupts.
âHoly shit!â Makiâs screaming in your ear, and youâre grinning and sweating and laughing out loud, and then your gaze lands on a very familiar pair of eyes sparkling in the stands.
âGo, you stupid lovebird!â Maki shouts, shoving you toward him. And you go to leap right over the barrier, right into Yutaâs waiting arms, and kiss him in front of all the cameras and the tabloids and the fans.
âYou did it!â he calls over the din, smile splitting his face as he pulls back. âYou won the fucking Olympics!â
Nobara is on you then, nearly tackling you back over the barrier, and then sheâs kissing Maki on the lips in public, which Maki would never allow under any other circumstances in the entire world. But youâre gold medalistsâfor that matter, so is Nobara, fresh off her first Olympic victory the day beforeâand right now anything is possible.
The whole celebration is a haze, and everyone is hereâGojo, Shoko, Akari, Kusakabe. Yuji and Megumi. Riko, the twins. Even Mai is there, and you swear to god you see her and Maki hug.
âI am so goddamn proud of you,â Gojo says in your ear, and then heâs stepping back, letting you get swept away by the press. In front of the sponsored Olympic backdrop, cameras glowing in your faces, you and Maki recount the best moment of your lives.
âI knew she had it,â Maki says, arm around your shoulder. âThey donât call her Ace for nothing.â
âShe set me up perfectly,â you say, elbowing her for trying to give you all the credit. Itâs hard to focus on the interviewers talking to you when the whole of Carson Courts is bursting with celebration, but you manage to get through a series of questions before another news outlet pulls Maki away.
Seizing the opportunity, the reporter on your right catches sight of Yuta and hauls him into frame. He stumbles into you, caught off guard, but the guyâs already talking.
âThe famous couple, fresh off a pair of golds! Tell me, how does it feel? And Mr. Okkotsu, why back to doubles?â
âIt feels amazing,â you say breathlessly, hand on Yutaâs back. He still gets shy in front of the press, even after all this time. âI mean, winning the Olympics at home? Right in Cali? I couldnât ask for anything more. And doing it in tandem, it makes it even better.â
âYeah,â Yuta says, latching onto your words. âIt really does. And doublesâyou know, if it werenât for her, I donât know if I ever would have realized how much I love playing this sport as a pair.â
âYou donât mind sharing the glory?â another reporter presses, shoving a mic closer to Yuta.
âNo,â he shrugs honestly, briefly scanning the crowdâfor Toge, probably, but you know heâs got to be wreaking havoc elsewhere by now. âI mean, learning to stand on your own is important. Great, even. In the end, though, on that podium⌠god, itâs better to be half of a whole.â
He glances at you, smiling. âGloryâs not meant to be a solo endeavor.â
âA double endeavor,â you grin, leaning into his side.
âWould you ever consider mixed doubles? Playing together?â someone else calls.
âWe play together all the time,â you say. âAnd love it. But Maki and I are gonna ride this wave as far as itâll take us.â
Yuta laughs. âSame here.â He and Toge are a well-oiled machine. Yesterday, they took the gold by beating down a total asshole from Japan named Mahito and that blond-haired ponytail guy from the Cincinnati Open, whoâs apparently become a doubles player as well.
You finally ditch the reporters and catch the end of another interview of Makiâs, where sheâs politely declining to comment on her cousinâs incredible downfall. She canât entirely hide the smug look on her face, though, and you canât blame her. Watching Naoya do horribly this year has been a source of immense joy.
Itâs been a long road to get here. Years and years of training, long bouts of competition, the lowest of lows and the highest of highs. But you have never been alone. Makiâs always been at your side. Yutaâs always been your biggest supporter. Gojo even managed to keep coaching you and Maki independently after you graduated, giving up the head coaching job to Kusakabe and staying on as an assistant.
âYou donât have to,â youâd said, sitting in his office when he told you and Maki the news.
âI know,â he said. âBut you guys are something special. And I want to see this all the way through, if youâll let me.â
Gojo has so much pride in his students, and he has so much pride in you. Between him and Shoko, you have all the support you could ever ask for, plus all of their many professional connections and several of your college teammates, who have gone on to have incredible careers.
And watching Gojo guide you through your career has sparked something in Yuta, too.
âI think I want to be a coach,â he tells you later, when youâre back in your hotel room, sprawled out on the bed with womenâs swimming coverage on in the background. âWhen this is all over, I mean.â
You prop yourself up on an elbow, raising a brow. âWhen this is all over?â
He grins sheepishly. âLike, when I retire.â
âSo next year?â
He swats at you as you devolve into laughter, insisting, âI am not that much older than you!â
You stick your tongue out, very maturely, and he starts tickling you, which is a cheap move that guarantees his victory.
âYuta!â
âYes, Ace?â
âStop thâhey!â
You have only one card left to play. You squirm your way out of his grasp and then launch yourself at him, pushing him back down on the bed by the shoulders, and kiss him.
All tickling efforts immediately cease.
The court is your first love. You never anticipated youâd have the space in your heart for anything more, and even if you did⌠it scared you more than youâd have liked to admit. Your own personal no manâs land.
But with Yuta, itâs not a challenge. Itâs not an obstacle. He taught you to navigate no manâs land, and apparently that wasnât only true on the court.
This? This is easy.
The next day, thereâs a headline from The Athletic in your inbox, forwarded from Gojo. You sidle up to Yutaâs side with your computer open in your lap, clicking into the new tab.
âA double endeavor,â he reads out loud, chuckling. âYou sure are quotable.â Your names are just below the bold lettering, detailing your pair of gold medals and then launching into a history of your tennis career with Maki, then Yutaâs journey from doubles player to singles and back to doubles at Togeâs side.
âIn many ways, itâs been a parallel journey for this pair of standouts,â you read, scrolling down the page. âBut in others, itâs been a map of crossed paths and opportunities, ups and downs.â
Itâs trueâso many things had to happen to get you to this point. All the people you met, beat, lost to. Every grueling hour on the court. Thousands and thousands of hours, choices, steps, hits, all to get you right here, right now.
âOne thing is for sure: Former Olympian and renowned coach Satoru Gojo was right when he told us, âYou havenât seen the last of these guys.â For all four of them, whether in singles or doubles play, the stars of this generation of tennis players are just getting started.â
âAw,â Yuta hums. âGojo said that?â
You donât miss a beat. âYeah, I paid him to.â
âOh, shut up.â
You close the computer, sliding it onto the bedside table, and look up at Yuta. âOh? Make me.â
Yutaâs grin is slow and lazy, rays of sunlight slipping through the blinds and lighting him up in gold.
âWell,â he says, one hand on your jaw. âI do like a challenge.â
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a/n: NOTHING MAKES ME MORE PATRIOTIC THAN THE OLYMPICS i hate this country but also RAHHHH you know what i mean
it's finally over !! i truly am sorry to have left you hanging for so long. balancing the full-time job and grad school and somehow still having a social life is a lot but i hope the wait was worth it! thanks for all your support !! feel free to blow up my asks, i love talking about these silly little anime AUs (or anything at all) with you all <3
hii rachel how are youu? it's been a while since we heard from you đĽš
I wish you all the best in uni! hope you enjoy living your dream and become the bestest beautifulest person you could ever be đŤśđ¤
hi fivi!! life is craaaazy right now but iâm doing well! havenât had a ton of time to write (though my day job is writing and so is my program of study so i suppose thatâs not entirely true), but iâm hoping to get a few hours to dial in on my fics soon :) thanks for checking in! <3
one: my ask box is doing the stupid thing again where it says i have messages and then doesn't show me any, so if you sent an ask in and i haven't already responded, feel free to resend! idk why it hates me
two: i recently got promoted at work and i also start graduate school TOMORROW, so i fear updates may be coming slowly as i drown in the intellectual abyss.
"but rachel," you say, "your posting schedule is already so sporadic and sparse" I KNOW I AM SO SORRY AGH BUT!! IT'S A WRITING PROGRAM so maybe the creative juices will just get flowing so much that i'll channel it into my fics. we shall see. rest assured the final part of no man's land IS in progress and i've got more fics cookin' in the background :)
i am so so grateful for all your sweet comments and messagesâi lowkey published buzzer beater as a bit and then you were all so lovely i just kept going. HAVE A LOVELY WEEK !!
You have to be the most talented writer on da big tđĽđĽđĽ (tumblr) Gosh I love your writing so much it motivates me to live â¤ď¸ Iâve just finished reading all your works so far & am waiting for the last chapter of no manâs land!!! Soooo excited thank you for blessing me like this
THIS IS SO KIND you are single-handedly getting me through my 9-5đŤĄđ owe you my life. thank you sm for reading!! iâm SO glad you enjoyed
hiiii, i really like your writing! Your style is so absorbing, it makes me feel like Iâm actually in the story, and itâs just wonderful!
Before I gush about you so much that your ears start bleeding, Iâm just wondering if you know what the sport field hockey is? Iâm newer to your blog, so Iâm sorry if this is a repeat question or anything, thanks in advance!
HAHA AW, thank you so much!! thatâs SO sweet and absolutely made my day, iâm so glad you enjoy the stories <3 and yes i do! iâve never played it (ice hockey is a big deal where iâm from) but actually one of my fav books (we ride upon sticks) is about field hockey and itâs sooo good
đž no man's land đ set three: work-life balance
olympian!yuta x d1!reader | directory | prev. | next.
summary: at the division one level, tennis is more than a sport. itâs your livelihood, and with your doubles partner maki training overseas for the summer, you know you need to step up your game for your last season. luckily for you, your coach has connections. and who better to train you than a rising star olympian? over the course of the summer, youâll push each other to your breaking points, and maybe farther. set by set, day by day, you start to untangle the mystery that is yuta okkotsu, the man he is off the court and the force he is on it. you might have finally met your match. but just like alwaysâitâs all in the name of the game.
warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, obscenely excessive use of italics and em-dashes as always, memelord toge inumaki, choso being awful at technology, THE RETURN OF THE KING (maki), naoya warning, naoya warning against just in case, jogo is also here but he's just a guy, think of this as the beach episode but they're just at a tennis tournament in ohio, where there's a wii there's a way, toge has such incredible beef with matt the npc mii it's not even funny, lil' steamy toward the end there tbh
|| sfw. 10k words.
YUTA OKKOTSU ISÂ not an impulsive person.
Itâs part of what makes him such a good tennis player. Heâs calculating, always measuring his opponents up against every possible variable, treating every set like a game of chess. Itâs why he and Rika were unstoppable at each otherâs sideâbecause he was calm and cool and collected, and she was bright and reckless and undying, until she wasnât.
He knows the moment Gojo sends him your highlight reel that you have potential like he hasnât seen in a long, long time. Something about the way you navigate the court as if itâs your natural habitat, the way you serve like a first language. And that ace.
âShe wants the Accelerator Program,â Gojo tells him over the phone.
âSheâs making it,â Yuta says without missing a beat. âIâll make sure.â He doesnât say what heâs thinking, which is more along the lines of sheâs going all the way to the fucking Olympics, as soon as I can get her out of her head.
He recognizes himself in you. Raised on doubles, afraid to stand alone. To excel in singles is to learn to take up your share of space on the court, to be unafraid of the dive and the fallback, to take advantage of the openings on the oppositionâs side that come with solo play. He has struggled with all the same things, and Miguel has trained them out of him, by sword and by racket and by telling Yuta to stop holding himself back and just play already.
Youâre brilliant, and he knows he can help you get even better.
He doesnât quite expect how much youâll make him better.
He knows heâs too serious about the game, but he canât help it, itâs inside of him. Victory in his veins, Gojo said once, and he wasnât really wrong. But you donât shy away from the intensity of Yuta on the court the way everyone else seems to. You rise to meet him, dish out the trash talk as well as you take it. He hasnât felt matched like this in a long, long time, not just as a player but as a person, and he savors it, becomes addicted to it, canât get enough of the strain and push and pull of the way you play, the way you tease, the way you exist.
And you make him feel normal. Like a part of something. He sits surrounded by your friends in the campus dining center and laughs and bickers and tells stories, and he shows you his favorite songs when you drive him to the airport, and he starts to think of your team, your friends, as his friends, too. Something in him settles, something that hasnât been still in a very long while.
You beat Gojo and heâs so proud he feels like he could burst. He didnât know it would feel like this, helping someone become better, teaching them, guiding them. Maybe itâs just because itâs you. His puts his hand on your elbow and you learn a move he took years to master in a single attempt.
He feels like heâs on fire.
Itâs not until the Generali Open that he realizes just how deeply youâve settled into his bones. He raises the ball to serve and thinks, Letâs do this.
That was not part of the plan.
Every time he plays in the pro circuits, he presses his lips to the ball and thinks, Itâs for you, Rika. Every time. For years and years and years, her face in his mind, her voice in his ear.
Why didnât he think that? What changed? Whatâ
Itâs not rocket science. He can put two and two together. Youâve transformed him from a single-minded tennis machine on autopilot to the person heâs been trying to become for years. He has been trying for so, so long to decide if he loves this game without Rika in it.
He was beginning to think the answer was no.
But here he is, pressing the ball to his lips and feeling energized not by the memory of Rika but by the thrill of the game, and he knows thatâs because of you.
It shouldnât feel like a betrayal, but he canât get past it.
He loses the match.
He canât stop thinking about you.
Thereâs a tourist shop on the way back to his hotel, and he slips inside, only half-conscious of what heâs looking for. He knows it when he sees it, a flower unfurling, the way you make him feel every time you egg him on, ask him a question, listen to him in a way that doesnât just hear but sees.
Itâs the only thing he purchases in Austria, and he knows he wonât remember this trip for the destination or the tournament but for what it made him realize. For what you made him realize, even from six thousand miles away.
When he gets back, he knows he should just get a taxi to Gojoâs and crash. Should act like a sane person and wait until he sees you the next morning. But the pin burns a hole in his pocket and itâs pouring rain and somehow, somehow, he knows that the weather hasnât stopped you.
His first love was supposed to be his last. That was part of his plan, his careful calculations. If Yuta knows anything at all about himself, itâs that heâs all-in. Tennis. Love. One and the same, really.
Falling for you, falling into you, accidentally and seamlessly and so, so easily, was not part of the plan.
In the end, though, how could he not? You move like the game was made for you and your laugh puts the sun in the sky and you challenge him every damn day, on the court and off of it, with that sharp grin and quick wit and undeniable talent and drive. You are a force, and after your very first training session, he thought, God, Rika would have loved you.
So he walks through the rain, thinking about how much he loved her. And he doesnât know what to do.
But the turmoil in his mind comes grinding to a halt when he sees you in the rain, untouched by the chaos of the weather, like the sky is sparing only you. And it should, he thinks. You deserve the whole sky, and everything else.
And then he presses the pin into your hand and suddenly heâs talking about Rika, spilling his guts, laying all his insecurities and his tragedies out for you to pick through, and you do not pity him. You do not offer empty words. You listen and you see and you tell him why you play, and he remembers.
He remembers all over again how he fell in love with tennis. The sheer joy he felt the first time he hit the ball over the net, the pride of his first victory, the dance of the sport that became so much a part of him itâs written in his bone marrow. How he loved Rika and he loved the game and they conflated until he thought those things were one and the same. And theyâre not.
He knows heâs obsessive. Things have a tendency to consume him, and Rika was no different. But your love of the game is so great it strikes some tuning fork inside of him, and thereâs this resonance, and itâs not just because heâs infatuated with you, and that is the difference.
Youâve just proven to him that he can love his career and he can love a person, and you know what, he might even have more love to spare. You put your hand over his and suddenly he understands that he has the capacity to extend his devotion to the world around him. His heart was broken once, but the excess of love in it has not escaped through the cracks.
The words are out of his mouth before heâs even decided to say them, just like his hand wrapped around your wrist without his permission. Come with me.
It is not part of the plan.
You say yes, and he thinks he could power entire galaxies with the supernova in his chest.
Realizing that heâs in love with you and acting on it are two very different things, and Yuta is too afraid of derailing this bright, new thing to ruin it now. Heâs going to wait it out. Heâs going to get you into that Accelerator Program and heâs going to congratulate you and then heâs going to ask you if you feel what he feels, this absurd tangle of livewires that shouldnât fit inside his heart, and if you say no, he will⌠he doesnât know.
But that is not for now. That is for later.
Until you beat him.
âDonât get comfortable,â he says, stealing Fushiguroâs words because youâre right in front of him and he canât think of any of his own, and you smirk because of course you never get comfortable, thatâs why youâre so goddamn good, thatâs why heâs so goddamn in love.
You beat him so gracefully, so undeniably, with sharp hits and brilliant returns and inevitable serves, and his plan evaporates. He cannot wait, not with you right here, right now, sweat painting your cheekbones in the floodlights and your breath coming uneven through your teeth.
âI won,â you say.
Youâve won everything.
Yuta Okkotsu is not an impulsive person, so when he backs you up against the chain link fence and his breath tangles with yours in the air, he knows heâs completely, royally fucked.
He doesnât remember dropping his racket, too focused on the curve of your lips as they part slightly, an unasked question trapped behind your teeth, and your face is so close to his he thinks he might just keel right over, and he has to claw his fingers around the fence just to keep himself standing.
This is nothing. His hand is on your waist and youâre looking at each other and that is not a sin, that is not even an action. This could be an innocent touch, an accidental glance at your lips, this could (should) be nothing.
But somehow, with this one touch, with your eyes wide and locked on his, heâs both bigger and smaller than heâs ever been all at once.
He doesnât know if he moves first, or if you do. All he knows is the taste of you, the clash of teeth and tongues, the slip of sweat and the press of bodies and oh, how stupid to think he could have waited a second longer for this.
You say his name and he implodes.
âYouâre amazing,â he whispers, and itâs all he can get out despite the millions of other words balled up in his chest, You saved my life because you saved my heart and I am so in love with you and I feel alive with you and I never want to take my hand off your skin again.
You deflect, you try to give him credit, and he will have none of it. Because sure, Gojo called him and asked him to train you, and he did, for a while. But you havenât needed him for a long time now. You trained yourself into the ground and built yourself back up again and you are a brilliant, intangible thing. âDonât.â He will not let you take this from yourself. âDonât be humble.â
Your hand is cupping his jaw, and he canât help leaning into the touch, and suddenly heâs spinning and the cool metal of the fence is pressing into his back and youâre the one in control, which feels right, because havenât you always been?
Yuta Okkotsu is not an impulsive person, but with you, heâs an unchecked electrical charge.
He loses and finds himself in the gaps between your fingers, your lips against his skin, and he knows something so fundamental has just clicked into place.
It is almost unfathomable, Yuta thinks as you slide a hand up his spine, that he was asleep for so long and did not know it.
But heâs wide awake now.
YOU HAVENâT TALKEDÂ about it.
You havenât talked about the kiss.
Kiss feels like such a ridiculously small word for the way he set you on fire at that tennis court, the way his touch lit you up from the inside out. But whatever it was, you havenât brought it up since. Every time the feeling floats to the tip of your tongue, you arenât sure how to put it into words, and so you channel it into the game, hitting and serving and rallying until your arms are sore, and then itâs time for Cincinnati. Everything is crazy and busy and surreal, and youâre on a plane, watching California grow small through the half-open window, and you havenât talked about it.
Youâre hardly about to do so on a plane next to a veritable tennis celebrity, whoâs already been recognized at least three times. Itâs strange, realizing that this comes with the territory of being good at your game, being an Olympian. You wonder if youâll get there, and then quickly shake the thought away in favor of a statement, like Nobara taught youâbecause my god, girl, could you doubt yourself any louder? Weâre practicing manifestation. Sit your ass down.
So: You wonder what it will feel like when you get there.
The Round of 64 wonât start until Saturday, but you arrive on Thursday to get settled and watch some of the qualifiers before Yuta is slated to play. The courts here are standard concrete, hard and blue, but maintained so well you itch to play on them the second you lay eyes on the property. Itâs the kind of court you know youâd kill on, unlike clay or grassâyouâre still constantly in awe of how easily Yuta adapted to the courts at Wimbledon, the way he could anticipate the ballâs movement on grass despite the slower pace of the game. You resolve to ask him about that, soon, about training on other surfaces. You need to be ready for everything.
But first, Yuta has a meeting on the agenda. Not a meeting for himâa meeting for you.
âThis,â he says, nodding with a small smile, âis Toge Inumaki.â
When Yuta talked about Inumaki, you pictured someone calm and collected like he is, someone with an indomitable presence. Imposing. Intimidating. Yuta said you canât not listen to Toge. So you thought heâd be⌠well, you donât know what you thought.
But it sure wasnât this.
Toge greets you with a very dramatic bow, floppy blond hair nearly brushing the asphalt, and then grins and says, âAt your service. Get it? Service? Tennis pun.â
You like him immediately.
Yuta just sighs, but youâre instantly reminded in a weird way of Nobara. Youâre certain they would either despise each other or get along in a way that would threaten the whole of the universe.
You introduce yourself, shaking his hand, and say, âYuta speaks very highly of you.â The shit-eating grin Toge shoots him over your shoulder just makes Yuta sigh again.
âAs he should,â Toge says, then drags you toward the courts. âNow, Yuta tells me youâve got quite an ace.â
The court is a practice one, populated only by a few doubles players on the far end, but youâre fairly certain itâs reserved only for actual competitors.
âI donât think Iâm allowed to be here,â you murmur to Yuta as Toge skips through the open gate.
He just smiles. âNobody is going to see you play and think you donât belong here. I can promise you that.â
Something in you warms at the praise, and you have to turn your face away under the guise of adjusting your visor so he doesnât see your blush.
Toge tosses you a ball, and you catch it in one hand before bouncing it a few times, getting a feel for the court.
You glance at Yuta, uncertain. He nods.
You hold your racket high and serve an absolute bullet.
Toge actually shrieks as it barrels toward him, lurching back but coming up drastically short. The ball bounces inside the line and rolls harmlessly toward the fence, and Togeâs jaw drops as he turns to you.
âHoly shit,â he says, then starts bouncing on the balls of his feet as he glances between you and Yuta. âYuta. Where did you find this woman? What the fuck? Sheâs a god.â He looks back at you. âYouâre a tennis god.â
Yuta just smiles at you sheepishly, like sorry about him, but Toge has already launched into a very off-key rendition of God is a Woman and you actually think youâd like him to be your friend immediately.
You accept the next ball Yuta tosses your way and interrupt Togeâs singing with a shouted, âLove-love.â
And you play.
â
Yuta is going to take his first opponent in three sets without even breaking a sweat. Heâs already dominated the first two, and heâs not letting up on the lanky guy across the court, some guy named Eso who looks oddly familiar but you canât place.
Toge, fresh off his own first match, whistles low beside you.
âWhat a freak,â he says reverently. Your phone buzzes.
cho:Â can you tell your man to chill?
cho:Â he has no mercy. none
cho:Â :((((
It takes you a moment to figure out what heâs talking about, and then you remember with a start that Eso is Chosoâs brother, one of the ones from out of state heâs always talking about. You swear to god he has a million siblings and you canât keep track to save your life.
you:Â âmy manâ
you:Â youâre typing in lowercase?
you:Â who are you and what have you done with choso
cho:Â ino shut off my auto caps and punctuation and i cant figure out how to turn them back on
cho:Â he said i type like a heathen
You laugh out loud. Choso is maybe the most hopeless person you know when it comes to technology. Once, heâd wanted to watch one of his brothers in the US Open and couldnât figure out how to get to the stream. Hakari had to explain the concept of pirating and painstakingly get Choso to get to the bootleg link without infecting his computer with a thousand viruses.
Toge looks at you questioningly. âThatâs my friendâs brother,â you say, nodding at Eso. âOne of his other ones is here too, actually.â You pull up the bracket and scan for his name. âHe could end up playing Yuta too, if he gets to the third round.â
âShould I start booing Yuta?â Toge asks earnestly. âI have no issue with that.â He opens his mouth as if to start shouting obscenities and you clap a hand over it.
âToge!â
Even if he had wanted to boo Yuta, thereâs no time, because the set has just ended with a killer backhand to the far corner of the court. Yuta wins. Esoâs shoulders slump in a sigh, but he approaches the net to shake Yutaâs hand over it. You can see their mouths moving as Yuta laughs, and you wonder if theyâre talking about Choso. He and Yuta get along well and are around the same age, Choso having stretched his D1 eligibility like Maki to stick around another season.
When you and Toge find Yuta after the match, heâs already pulled up the bracket on his phone, searching for his next opponent.
âYou canât let yourself bask in the glory for two seconds?â Yuta is such a single-minded beast on the court. Always thinking about his next move, his next set, his next opponent.
When he hears your voice, he looks up from the screen so fast youâre briefly worried his neck might snap. âHey,â he grins.
âHey yourself.â
âWhy donât you ever look that excited to see me?â Toge says, offended, and goes to tackle Yuta in a hug. âGive me your affection!â
âGet off me, you gremlin.â Heâs doing a terrible job stifling his laughter.
Two days later, Yuta takes on a cocky guy with a long, blond ponytail and a leering, condescending smirk. You donât even remember his name after hearing it twice, but his voice is high and grating, and youâre glad when Yuta pummels him.
Menâs tennis, at least in the pro circuits, plays five sets rather than three, and it fascinates youâseeing the pace work itself out, the stretch of time that forces each player to their limit. Not that Yuta has really been pushed to his limit yet, or anywhere close.
Toge is also impressive on the court, sweeping through his opponents effortlessly, and then itâs the third match.
Sure enough, Yuta winds up against Choso and Esoâs brother. His name is Kechizu, and you can see something of Chosoâs playstyle in his movements. Choso comes from a tennis family, and all of them have distinct serves but the same familiar backhand that makes them such a threat. You wonder what happens when they play each other.
By now, the crowd knows what to expect of Yuta Okkotsu, and theyâre dialed in on his every move. You almost feel a little bad for Kechizu, pitted against such a big-time opponent. But Kechizu doesnât look sorry. In fact, he looks like heâs having the time of his life, absorbing every blow without a flinch and adapting to Yutaâs strategy as he goes.
This match goes to the fourth set, and Kechizu even manages to get a service break once, but heâs still out of his element against Yutaâs sheer skill.
cho:Â oh my god
cho:Â not again
takumaaa :D: girl choso is in mourning
takumaaa :D: mourning? morning? wait
You donât know when Ino got into your phone again to change his contact name. Itâs been a recurring battle for years now.
takumaaa :D: AHA itâs mourning i was right
Right as Yuta wins, your phone rings, and you glance down to see Makiâs name dancing across the screen.
âAre you in Pacific time?â you ask without prelude. âI can feel it. I can feel the aura.â Youâve been religiously counting down the days until she comes back from Japan, and today sheâs supposed to have landed back in the States. Fucking finally. Your one hesitation about going to Cincinnati with Yuta was that you wouldnât be there to greet her, but she shut you down so fast you didnât even have a chance to argue. Youâre going, sheâd said, and if you fight me Iâll stay in Japan.
You both knew damn well it was an empty threat, but you laughed and told her the message had been received.
âIndeed,â she says through a yawn. âAlso, no you canât. Youâre in Central. Shut up.â She has a point. âListen, Iâm about to go sleep for at least twenty-four hours. But what if I came to Cinci after?â
You almost drop your phone.
âWhat?â You process the words. Maki, here. âI mean, yes, god, yes. But are youâlike, are you sure? You just got back.â
âIâm sure,â Maki says, and you were expecting it, because sheâs sure about everything. Except when she was pining after Nobara, which Nobara has begged you for details about ever since that one dinner. âI want to meet this Okkotsu guy, watch some pro play before we have to lock in for the invitational. Also, my dickwad cousin is there, and I wanna see him get his assed whooped. Is that cool with you?â
âIs that cool with me,â you scoff. âI mean, Nobara might kill us both. But yes. Please do. Please come. Thatâsâyes.â Youâve missed Maki so much, and youâre dying to get her on the court again, to test your new skills against hers, to hear all about training under Mei Mei and to introduce Maki and Yuta andâ
Oh, god.
Maki knows you as well as you know your own racket. Even through the phone, sheâs picked up on more of your whirlwind of feelings surrounding Yuta than youâd like to admit. You havenât told her about the kiss yet. But sheâll know the second she lays eyes on you.
Toge nods toward the courts, an indication that heâs going to go catch up with Yuta, and you wave him off and mouth be there soon.
âDonât bother with a hotel room,â you tell her. âYou can crash in mine.â
âYou sure?â she says, that teasing undertone shining clear through her exhaustion. âYou donât wanna share that bed withââ
âMaki!â
â
Itâs a Saturday morning the day Maki finally arrives, the day of the quarterfinals. The Ohio sun is unrelenting, the air humid and slicking the back of your neck with sweat. You spent the morning hitting with Yuta and Toge, the two of them warming up for their matches today and you absorbing everything you could.
The way they play together reminds you of you and Makiâwordlessly anticipating one anotherâs moves, making for long rallies and fast shots, and it made you miss her even more. She steps out of the cab, all quiet confidence and readiness, wholly herself after settling in back home and kicking the jet lag.
You practically scream as you barrel into her, nearly knocking her right back into the backseat. âChrist, hello to you too,â she huffs, but you can hear the affection in her voice as she hugs you back.
âI missed you so much,â you say. âNever, ever, ever do that again.â
âWhat, train under an Olympian?â she smirks, knowing that wasnât what you meant. âI feel like that resolution wonât last long, givenâŚâ When she pulls back, you follow her gaze over your shoulder to see Yuta engaged in animated conversation with Toge. She raises a brow at you and you feel your whole face go beet-red.
âItâs notââ
âYes,â she interrupts, slinging an arm around your shoulder. âIt is.â
You sigh and lean into Makiâs familiar warmth, and itâs like she never left. Thank god. You missed your partner. You missed your best friend.
She grabs her stuff from the trunkâracket, tennis bag, and alarmingly small backpack. Sheâs an absurdly light packer, and youâre the opposite. Yeah, you probably donât need ten pairs of socks for a weekend trip, but what if something happens to eight pairs of them and then youâre left without extra socks? You never know.
You snag Makiâs stupidly light backpack and let her handle her tennis stuff, leading the way to the hotel entrance. âThis is Maki,â you proclaim proudly as Yuta and Toge turn to face you. âDoubles partner extraordinaire, and also my best friend.â
Yuta holds out a hand. âNice to meet you,â he says, and it would sound like stiff small talk coming from anyone else. But you can tell he means it.
âOkkotsu,â Maki says, shaking his hand firmly before he can introduce himself. âHeard a lot about you.â Yuta raises a brow your way, and you tug your visor down on your head as if thatâll hide the red in your face. âAnd you must be Inumaki.â
Togeâs eyes widen. âShe knows me,â he stage-whispers to Yuta.
Maki and Yuta fall into conversation as you enter the hotel, and Toge holds the door before letting it swing closed behind the both of you. âSheâs scary,â he murmurs.
âOh my god. Sheâs not, I promise!â As soon as you say it, youâre pretty sure youâve just lied.
Maki can be pretty imposing if you donât know her, and even if you do know her, sheâs someone you want to keep on your good side. As Yuji and Megumi well know, the wrath of Maki Zenin is not lightly incurred or escaped.
Toge gives you a meaningful look that reads something like yeah right, and you just giggle. Maki and Yuta seem to already get along, having jumped into a conversation about her awful cousin Naoya and the way he tries to run his opponents down early. Itâll be a beneficial discussion if he does make it far enough to play Yuta or Toge.
You hope he doesnât. Heâs a dick.
After dumping Makiâs stuff in your room, Toge heads out to get ready for his quarterfinal matchup and Yuta heads to the practice courts. You and Maki walk around the many courts hosting the dayâs matches, catching glimpses of familiar and unfamiliar players, simultaneously analyzing matchups and catching up on the summer.
âThat woman is insane,â Maki says. âI actually donât know how Iâm not dead. I swear she doesnât feel normal human emotions. She ran me into the ground.â
Mei Mei is terrifying on the court, but according to Maki, sheâs also terrifying off of it. âHalf the time I was convinced sheâs living a double life scamming people out of their money. But the other half, sheâs such a damn good tennis player I couldnât even care.â
Maki goes on a tirade about the drills Mei Mei had her run day after day, and her kind of creepy little brother who was always hanging around the courts, but the ranting is punctuated with statements that subtly make you understand Maki had a great summer. That it was hard, but worth her time; that it was brutal, but necessary. That she respects Mei Mei as a tennis player even if maybe nobody should respect her as a person, and that sheâs excited to get back on the court here and kick some ass.
Then she asks about you.
More specifically, about you and Yuta.
For a while youâre able to dodge the question, walking her through your summer training in the same way she did hers, but by the time youâve done two laps around all the courts, youâve run out of ways to evade.
âSo you kissed,â she says, and you stop in your tracks.
âDamn it!â You glare at her. âHow do you know everything all the time? Do you have spies?â
âNo, but I have eyes,â she drawls, leaning against the side of a vacant set of bleachers. âYou keep dancing around each other. Whatâs the deal? Are you a thing or not?â
You climb up onto the bleachers and bury your head in your hands. âI donât know,â you groan truthfully. âWe havenât talked about it since it happened. I canât figure out if itâs just a casual thing or if he, likeâŚâ
âForget his feelings for a second,â Maki says, and you look up through your hands at her. âDo you want to be with him?â
You instinctively go to blurt out I donât know, but Makiâs no-bullshit expression stops you.
Of course you do know. Itâs all youâve been able to think about since he pressed you up against that fence.
âYeah,â you murmur, and Maki nods, unfazed.
âThen ask if he does, too, and get it over with. Worst case scenario, it was a casual thing and you move on. Best case scenario, it wasnât, and youâre dating a pro tennis player.â She shrugs, like this is all simple and easy and black-and-white, like the concept of asking Yuta what you mean to him doesnât tie your stomach into a bunch of knots like a fucking balloon animal.
Reading your hesitation, Maki sighs, pulling herself up onto the bleachers next to you. âIf you wait, itâs just gonna mess with your head even more.â
You know sheâs right. Makiâs always right.
The gates open and an official leads two players onto the court in front of you as people start to file in from other matches. Toge finds you in the crowd and waves excitedly, and you crack a grin and wave back. Youâve unintentionally stopped right at his court.
Someone sits down beside you, and you turn to find Yuta, a relieved smile on his face. âThought I was gonna be late,â he says, then glances over you and waves at Maki.
Maki is entirely at ease, but youâre worried Yuta can somehow read the conversation you just had in the air. Like your messed up feelings are written all over your face.
But he just turns to face the court, elbows on his knees, dialing in. He must recognize the other guy on the court, though you donât. âOh, heâs got this,â Yuta says, half to himself.
And he does. Whatever worries you have about Yuta fade into the back of your mind the second Toge serves, and youâre locked in, head following the ball back and forth and back and forth as Toge wins one set, loses, wins another.
Four sets and the guy is slinking off the court while the PA system announces that Toge Inumaki has advanced to the semifinals. Youâre cheering, grabbing Yutaâs arm as you jump up and down, and he laughs and throws an arm over your shoulder in celebration.
Did the sun just get hotter?
Maki shoots you a look out of the corner of her eye. Fine, you mouth.
Youâll talk to him.
But right now, itâs his turn.
You reconnect with Toge outside the court as Yuta splits off to get to his own match, and the three of you take your time getting there, knowing youâll be early enough to get good seats.
Yutaâs opponent is a bulkier guy, Jogo or something, who plays an incredibly different style of tennis than Yutaâs other opponents. Heâs all power and brute force, none of Yutaâs finesse, but itâs threatening in a different way. You can see the calculation in Yutaâs eyes, and by the third game of the first set, it becomes clear what strategy heâs settled on.
Heâs going to run Jogo around this court like a dog.
Jogo might have the strength, but he doesnât have Yutaâs endurance, and by the time the second set rolls around, Yuta is consistently winning service breaks. You canât help grinning as you watch. Jogo is undoubtedly talented. But heâs no match for Yuta Okkotsu.
Is anyone?
Jogo is exhausted by set three, but he turns it around and pulls one over on Yuta, though the victory is narrow. He tries to keep Yuta close to the baseline, but thereâs no point, because Yutaâs returns are all over the place. Thereâs no rhyme or reason to his trajectoriesâheâll hit four different places on the court and then the fifth one three times in a row, just to fuck with Jogo.
Four sets and itâs over, Yuta victorious. Toge is grinning, and you arenât sure if itâs because of the win or because of the heightening chances of playing his best friend.
Theyâre not pitted against each other in the semifinals. But if they both win, itâll be a hell of a final round.
You glance at Maki as the announcer crowns Yuta victorious, and to any bystander sheâd look bored. But youâre well versed in the subtlest changes in her expressions, and you can tell sheâs deeply impressed.
âIf he plays like that,â she tells you lowly, âI am so excited to get your ass back on the court.â
â
Toge is hanging upside down on the couch in the hotel common room, watching some Instagram reel without headphones on, and laughing like a maniac.
âThis guy is insane,â he says, shoving the screen your way. You flop down on the floor with your back against the couch beside him and take the phone in your hand just as the reel starts over.
Itâs a guy with pink hair. Heâd remind you of Yuji if it werenât for the dark tattoos on his face and the sheer condescension of his expressionâsomeone who should by all standards be intimidating, if it werenât for the fact that the thing heâs so intensely ranting about is a low-quality recording of Yutaâs quarterfinals match. Heâs giving commentary that also appears in thick white bubble letters, and you feel like youâre watching a video game stream.
âLook at this bitch,â the guy says, zooming in on Jogo. âHe moves like a fuckinâ rock. My nephew can do better than that.â
Then the camera pans to Yuta, and the man whistles appreciatively before laughing a little maniacally. âThis one, though. This little guy is insane, look at himâboom,â he cackles as Yuta hits an ace that Jogo has no hope of getting to in time. âOoh, heâs a good fight. He might look like a little middle school twink, but look at that serve.â He plays another clip back and you donât even hear what he says, because youâre cackling at the way he just called Olympian Yuta Okkotsu a âlittle middle school twink.â
Toge grins, takes his phone back, and hits follow.
âThis guyâs whole livelihood is unhinged commentary on tennis,â he says. âHe even does NCAA.â
You raise a brow and make a note to look into this later. Has he talked about you?
âThat shit is monetized?â
Toge shrugs. âYou can monetize anything nowadays. I have a burner account where I just post AI covers of Waluigi singing Post Malone songs and that shit blows up every time.â
The same man that apparently monetizes AI-generated Waluigi online is set to play Naoya Zenin in the semifinals.
âI kind of wish it was you,â Toge tells Yuta. âMore fun that way.â
âIâll kick your ass any time you like,â Yuta reassures him. Then Togeâs gaze drifts to the loungeâs television setup, lingering on the Wii.
âAnytime?â Toge grins.
Yuta groans. âOh, no.â
Toge tries to flip himself off the couch and winds up half on the floor, half in your lap. âWell, hello,â you say.
Without missing a beat, he asks, âYou any good at Wii tennis?â
âI thought youâd never ask.â You shoot Maki a massive grin as Yuta reluctantly digs four controllers out of the basket near the window, and she smirks back.
Youâve spent many a night in tense competition with Yuji and Megumi on the court. Youâve possibly spent even more nights duking it out on the Wii.
âI love doubles on Wii,â Toge says in a sing-song voice. âThat way I donât have to play Matt. That guy is op numero uno. I swear, he wants me dead.â
The familiar Wii Sports theme has all four of you lining up in front of the TV, and for some reason you feel more competitive about this than real tennis, at least in this moment. Itâs partially the late hour, partially being reunited with Maki, and partially the way Toge keeps sneaking smug glances at you and Maki.
âYou really think you have a chance, huh?â Maki snorts.
Toge goes pale.
âSheâs kidding,â you whisper, nudging him in the ribs. Maki raises a brow at you and you amend, âKind of.â
Toge selects a random Mii and opens up the customization settings so fast nobody has time to stop him. Itâs actually mildly alarming how adept he is at navigating Wii controls, mostly because heâs a professional tennis player and how in godâs name does he have this much time on his hands? The eyebrows are now floating above the head of the green-skinned INUMAKIIII, making them look like alien antennae.
âHe does this every time,â Yuta sighs, resigned.
Yuta picks a generic-looking guy but changes the name to Yuta, and you follow suit, side-eyeing him as you type in Ace.
He smiles.
Maki zeroes in on where, apparently, somebody has painstakingly duplicated the Matt NPC as a playable avatar. She gives Toge a shit-eating grin.
âNo,â he begs with a levity that actually shocks you. âNo, spare me, please. Not Matt. Anyone but Matt.â
She picks Matt.
Toge mourns her avatar choice for the entirety of the first match, which you dominate. Then Yuta looks at him and says, âAre you gonna keep playing around?â
An entirely new Toge emerges from the ashes of the one you once knew.
This man is an absolute menace. You have never seen anyone play the Wii more intenselyâor preciselyâthan Toge Inumaki, at least when heâs not on the ground monologuing about Mattâs vengeance.
âToge,â you say after heâs beaten you and Maki into the ground twice. âWhat the actual fuck? What Wii tennis prodigy school did you go to?â
âThis is just how I train,â he says, so entirely deadpan that for a second you actually believe him.
Once heâs in his element, he loudly challenges âMattâ to a singles âduel of honor,â and Maki obliges. She actually holds her own against him, and they go back and forth for so long that you and Yuta strike up a conversation on the couch.
âHeâs the most insane person Iâve ever met,â you tell Yuta sagely, nodding in Togeâs direction. âAnd thatâs⌠a statement, coming from me.â
âOh, I know.â Yuta nods fondly. âNo words to describe Toge Inumaki, I guess. Did I tell you he lost a bet once and spoke only in sushi ingredients for a full forty-eight hours?â
âHeâŚâ You blink. âWhat?â
âMhm. We call it the Salmon Incident. I still canât decide if the worst part was him running around shouting about tuna mayo, or me actually understanding what he meant by the second day.â
âDear god.â
Yuta shakes his head. âGod certainly was not there.â
Toge shrieks so loud you nearly jump off the couch, instead falling practically into Yutaâs lap as your heart stutters. âJesus, Toge!â
âHeâs done it,â Toge announces, spinning to face you and dramatically wiping away imaginary tears. âHeâs thwarted me once again.â
âHe is right here and warned you that you would lose,â Maki shrugs.
Yuta chuckles, and the sound rumbles against your shoulder. Youâre suddenly hyperaware of your position, your side pressed up against his chest, fingers wrapped around his forearm. Oh, god.
He must register your embarrassment, because he just offers you a reassuring smile. Which makes it worse. He can probably feel your pulse through your wrist.
You very pointedly donât look at Maki as you murmur an apology and stand up, making a conscious effort not to physically shake out your limbs in the absence of Yutaâs warmth.
Toge closes his eyes and points the Wii remote at Yuta. âPlease,â he whispers. âAvenge me.â
Yuta does.
â
Naoya Zenin is a prick.
Every story Makiâs ever told about him has confirmed this, but his match against Toge hasnât even started before you see exactly what she means. From your vantage point about halfway up the bleachers, you can see the harsh movement of his mouth, Toge turned away from you.
Youâre too far to understand what heâs saying, but Yuta grimaces. âTogeâs off his game,â he murmurs. âWhatever that guy just saidâŚâ
Itâs nothing obviousâyou watch Toge grin, make some fast quip, dance back to his side of the court as light as always. But Yuta knows Toge like you know Maki. If he says something is wrong, something is wrong.
âFuck him,â Maki seethes. âI hope Inumaki runs him into the ground.â
For a brief, ridiculous moment, you can only see Naoya as a cartoonish little Mii.
Toge serves harder than usual, and Naoya makes absolutely no move toward the ball. He just lets it hit inside the line, practically gives Toge the point, and then gives him a lazy, wide grin.
âWhat is he doing?â you mutter.
âWhat he does best.â Maki scowls. âManipulation.â
Youâve only known Toge for a few days, but already youâre certain heâs one of the most unflappable people out there. Sure, he might threaten to go to war against an NPC, but itâs hard to imagine anyone actually getting under his skin.
But sure enough, his next serve is off, closer to Naoya as if he wants him to hit it back. To move, to try. Naoya returns a lazy backhand, and they rally a few times before Naoya slams it just inside the baseline. Toge lunges, but itâs too late.
âFuck,â you mutter, glancing at Yuta. He looks concerned, but only mildly.
Earlier today, he and some tall guy named Dagon stretched their semifinal matchup to five sets, pushing each other to the edge. Dagon rivaled Yuta in the fluidity of his movements, like the air was water around him, moving so fast you felt like he mustâve had extra arms or some shit. And he was strong to bootâlike Jogo, but with all of Yutaâs grace.
Still, Yuta won, cementing his spot in the finals. And you expected that final matchup to come down to him and Toge. But now, youâre not so sure.
âGive him a few games. Heâll turn this around.â Yuta sounds so sure of himself, not in an arrogant sense, but in a way so matter-of-fact that you canât help but believe him.
You wonder if Yuta has that sort of confidence in you. The thought makes something dangerous light itself up in your chest.
Toge does turn it around, snagging two service breaks by the time he takes the first set. But Naoya still looks unconcerned, and he keeps sending knowing glances Togeâs way, oscillating between high effort and absolutely none. Itâs not just throwing Toge offâthe audience is antsy, too, and you can tell none of them actually want Naoya to win.
They trade sets, back and forth, and after Naoya ties it up by taking set four, he actually yawns. Arms in the air, stretching, making no effort to hide it.
âOh, fuck you,â Maki mutters beside you. You know looks canât kill, because if they did, Naoya would be burning alive.
At one point, you get so frustrated you stand up to take a lap around the bleachers. Theyâre trading games back and forth, 4-4 now, and itâs been over three hours.
5-5.
6-6.
Itâs a tiebreak game. You canât stop running your hands through your hair, tugging just enough to hurt, because you want to strangle Naoya Zenin and his self-satisfied smirk. Even he canât hide how tired he is now, the both of them panting as they take their positions.
You curse out loud when you realize itâs Naoyaâs serve. The odds are stacked against Toge.
He gets the first point, but Toge gets the second. Then itâs 3-3. 4-4. 5-5. 6-5 as Naoya slams one right to Togeâs feet, giving him no time to get a racket under the ball. 6-6.
6-7, and Toge looks out into the crowd and locks eyes with Yuta. Youâre sure youâre about to witness some kind of serious exchange. But then Toge lifts his hands and moves them up and down like heâs dribbling two balls, mouthing âsix seven.â
âOh my god,â you say out loud. âI actually think he should lose for that.â You donât mean it, and Yuta canât help laughing. But then itâs 7-7. 7-8. 8-8. Itâs been four hours.
9-8. Match point.
If Naoya gets this, the tiebreak is over. The match is his.
âCome on,â you murmur under your breath. âCome on, Toge.â
They rally for what feels like forever but really canât be more than twenty seconds. And then Naoya, with the most audacity youâve ever seen, runs his hand through his hair as Togeâs ball soars through the air toward him. Like heâs bored.
And he slams it back.
Naoya wins.
â
Maki is still fuming hours later as the four of you hit on the practice courts, cursing Naoya out as she nails balls into the fence. âYou have to run him into the ground,â she tells Yuta firmly.
âAvenge Toge like you did last night,â you nod. Yuta sighs.
The thing is, Maki is infinitely more upset about the loss than Toge. Toge actually seems⌠entirely unfazed. You stand at Yutaâs side, watching as Toge balances a tennis ball on his nose like a trick seal.
âHow is he so unaffected by this?â you murmur, not really expecting a response.
âWork life balance!â Toge shouts.
Turns out, whatever Naoya said to him on the court was about Togeâs family. Apparently heâd done some research. Toge was more surprised that Naoya knew anything than affected by the actual shit-talking.
âOh, you know, stuff about how Iâm the worthless son and will never live up to my familyâs great expectations or some shit,â he shrugged. âTruly, I donât care. He doesnât know anything.â
You were sure he couldnât mean that, but he really seems indifferent about the whole ordeal. Itâs like the words slid right off him, rain on a parka. The most you got out of him was a solemn nod and a Yuta, you must fight to the death. He is my Matt.
Yuta shrugs. âHeâs just like that.â
When Maki is done raging about Naoyaâs very existence, you fall into place at her side, the boys across from you on the court. This is what youâve been waiting for. Your blood feels alive with anticipation.
Itâs time to play doubles.
It is everything you thought it would be. Youâre at an entirely new level from where you were at the beginning of the summer, but so is Maki. You read each otherâs intentions and movements, adapt to each otherâs improvements in the silent language of eye contact and minute gestures. Itâs as if youâve been growing side by side all these months, not an entire ocean apart.
This is the level of play youâre hungry for, the kind thatâll matter in the Olympics. NCAA tennis reduces a whole exhausting three sets of doubles to one point, and itâs always felt like such a diminishment of all the work and time that goes into it.
You and Maki lose, but you canât deny itâs the best tennis youâve ever played. Youâre exhausted, limbs sagging, breath coming short and shallow, but you feel more accomplished than you have after any victory.
Well. Almost any victory, you think.
Your back against a chain link fence. Yutaâs breath mingling with yoursâ
âNice, Ace,â Yuta calls, and your gaze snaps to his as if drawn by opposite magnetic poles. âThat last slice was perfect.â
âIâthanks,â you call back, trying desperately to collect yourself. âThat was great, both of you.â
âCount me impressed, Inumaki,â Maki admits.
Toge does a backflipâyou didnât know he could do thatâand then shrugs, and Maki stares at him for a long moment before informing him, âYou are so concerning. As a person.â
He beams.
âI wish you could come back to Kaisen after this,â you sigh as you grab your water bottle, taking a long, cold swig. âWith Yuta. That was the best doubles match Iâve played inâŚâ
Maki meets your gaze. âYears,â she finishes.
âWhat if I did?â
You freeze, turning to face Toge. âWhat? Arenât you on the full ATP tour?â You frown. âWhenâs your next comp, next weekend?â
âI can play hooky,â Toge says devilishly, wiggling his brows. Yuta snorts, and Toge grins. âNah, nah. Iâm not going to Winston-Salem. Itâs a 250 and Iâm in the top thirty already. Should be fine.â
âBrag much?â Yuta teases.
âWould you be cool with that?â Toge asks Yuta. âMe crashing for a few days, playing doubles with these insane college prodigies you found? I wanna see Gojo anyway.â
âYou know Gojo, too?â Maki groans. âWhy does he know everyone?â
Toge just grins and says, âMy secrets shall never be revealed.â
âYou should, though,â Yuta says. âCome back with us. Itâll be good. Keep us sharp before the US Open, get you guys ready for that invitational.â He directs this last part at you and Maki.
âHe knows your schedule,â Maki notes, low enough that only you can hear. âInteresting.â
âYeah, because heâs training me,â you mutter heatedly.
âYeah, thatâs why.â She snorts.
Yuta and Toge are talking travel plans now, calling up Gojo to see if Toge can crash for a few nights, and so you turn back to Maki and desperately whisper, âHelp me.â
âThis, Iâm afraid, is a you problem,â she says, and for what itâs worth, thereâs some genuine sympathy in her voice as she puts a hand on your shoulder. âJust talk to him. Bite the bullet.â
âHorrible advice.â But you turn and look at Yuta again, right as he laughs, bright and loud and open, at something Gojo said on the phone.
Damn it.
You have to talk to him.
â
Your room is directly across the hall from Yutaâs. He booked a single, Toge on the floor below because apparently he snores like an elephant. Makiâs already knocked out on the bed, and you find yourself pacing back and forth, back and forth, just thinking.
He is just feet away, if youâd get your head out of your ass and knock on his door.
For maybe two full minutes, you stand with your hand on your own doorknob, willing yourself to open it.
Whatâs the worst that can happen? Makiâs voice says in your head.
Well, he could say no. No, he doesnât have feelings for you, everything was purely physical, a distraction, a convenience, and why would you think that and now itâs weird and actually I have to go train alone for the rest of the summer and Iâm never coming back andâ
âShut up,â you hiss, and then clap a hand over your mouth, looking back over your shoulder to see if Maki heard. She doesnât stir, and you let out an unsteady breath.
Fuck it.
You open the door.
Youâre staring directly at Yuta.
âOh,â he says. âSorry. I, uh⌠I guess we hadâŚâ
You almost blurt out some stupid lie like oh, I was just going to the ice machine! But you bite your tongue, because something in Yutaâs eyes mirrors yours right now. Youâre pretty sure you opened your doors for the same reason.
âYeah,â you breathe. âUmâŚâ
âDo youâŚâ He laughs sheepishly, glancing behind you to see Maki already occupying your room. âDo you want to come in?â
You nod mutely, quietly closing your own door behind you and padding across the hall. Yutaâs room is neat, just an open suitcase on the floor in the corner with all his clothes tidy and folded, his tennis stuff leaning against the wall near the door. Not enough to pretend to look at, to avert your gaze from his.
He shuts the door, and before you can say anything, he takes a deep breath and says, âLook, Iâm sorry.â
Your heart plummets.
He crosses in front of you on his way to the bed and pats the space beside him. You hesitate for a second before moving toward him, perching on the edge.
âI know we should have talked about this sooner and itâs⌠itâs entirely my fault that itâs taken so long. I justâI guess I had some reservations aboutâŚâ
âYou donât need to do this,â you say in a rush, and Yuta looks at you, surprised. âIâyou donât need to apologize, I mean. Itâs fine, I get it, if it was just a one-time thing and you donât feel that way, we can just keep on training likeââ
âWait, no! No,â Yuta blurts, seeming surprised by his own volume and sitting back a bit, stunned. âI mean⌠no, thatâs not what I meant at all. God, Iâm bad at this. Listen.â He pulls one leg up on the bed, turning to face you fully, and reaches out to take your hand in both of his.
You can feel your heartbeat in every part of your body.
âI donât have reservations about you. Iâve never had reservations about you. Please know that.â He swallows, hard, and you find yourself following the line of his throat, his arms, his watch, anything but his eyes. âItâs more of⌠I told you about Rika, already. I donât know if I told you I loved her like that, but it probably wasnât hard to tell.â He sighs.
At that, you meet his gaze. His eyes are wide, earnest, dark. So many emotions contained in such little space. Itâs just like he makes you feel, like your heart is too big for your skin.
âAfter she died, I didnât feel⌠worthy, I guess. Of survival. Why her and not me, you know? Without her everything felt so pointless.â He laughs humorlessly. âItâs like IâI wasnât needed by anyone, so was any of it worth it? It took me a long time to realize that people did care about me. Iâm still figuring that out, actually. Finding the confidence to⌠to know itâs okay to live, even without her.â
Oh.
All the tension flows out of you, a broken damn. âYuta,â you murmur. His cheeks go a little red at the sound of his name on your lips. âIâm proud of you.â
He goes still.
âI mean it.â You put your free hand on top of his. âItâs⌠thatâs not easy. Letting yourself open up again. And we can take itâthis, whatever this isâas slow as you need to.â
âWhatever this is,â he echoes, a faint smile on his face. âWhat is this?â
Somehow, you feel like the first time you went to the US Open as a kid. Sitting on the very edge of your seat, heart in your throat as the ball flew back and forth, scared to blink for fear of missing anything. Like somehow, everything hinges on this moment, right now.
"Thatâs what I wanted to ask,â you say quietly.
Yuta swallows, looks down like heâs steeling himself. âI know I said, just now, that I was learning to⌠to live, without her.â And then his eyes lock onto yours, dark, intense. âI meant that. But I also meant learning to love.â
The single syllable steals the breath right out of your lungs.
âI know thatâs a big, stupid word with a lot of connotations,â he chuckles nervously. âAnd I know I can be⌠intense. And you donât need to feel that way too, not now, not yet, I justâyou said itâs a hard thing, opening up again. And it is, it should be. But thatâs the thing. Itâs not hard, with you. Itâs likeâgod, I canât even help myself. I canât stop it.â
He lets go of one of your hands, his fingers floating up to your cheek, your jaw. âYouâre incredible, Ace.â
âIâŚâ You find yourself tilting your head, leaning to meet his touch. You want him near you in every way possible. âYuta, you⌠youâre incredible, too. I mean that.â Your wrap your fingers around his wrist, pressing his hand against your face.
And you say, âI want this. I want you.â
There is one long, silent moment.
And then Yuta smiles and says, âThank god.â
In a split second, heâs on you, his hand slipping down your jaw to your neck, your shoulder, and his lips are on yours again, and itâs like you never stopped kissing but also, somehow, like youâve never felt this before. You donât remember laying down. You donât remember sliding your hands beneath the thin, white fabric of his shirt. âYuta.â
He breathes against your cheekbone, so close the strands of his dark hair brush your forehead. âHm?â
His hands are wide, strong, long fingers pressed against your collarbone, caressing the strands of your hair. Every one of your senses is amplifiedâyour heartbeat is thunder, his uneven breaths a bassline, your skin and his hot against each other.
âYouâre sure about this?â you breathe. âItâs not gonna⌠mess with your focus, you donât need toââ
Yuta silences you by pressing his lips to yours, smirking as he pulls away. âIâm sure.â Thereâs a mischievous glint in his eye as he cages you in with his elbows on the mattress, his knee between your legs. âYou know. Work-life balance.â
Well, youâre not going to argue with that.
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a/n: yutaâs POV is for @princess-okkotsu specifically it had not even occurred to me until this brilliant suggestion thank you
