Work Text:
Hoshino Airi was a name Sakuno had heard repeated more than once before she even joined the girls’ tennis club, always spoken with the same mix of admiration and caution.
Seigaku’s girls’ team ace. Second-year regular. The player everyone built their matches around.
And, according to most of the upperclassmen, someone “cold.”
Sakuno hadn’t understood what that meant until now.
Because the moment she stepped onto court for doubles practice, she realized she was being paired with Hoshino Airi herself.
“Hey, new girl.”
The voice was flat not unkind, just direct.
Sakuno stiffened instantly. “Y-yes…!”
She immediately regretted how small she sounded.
Airi glanced at her once, briefly, then stepped closer and placed something into her hands.
A hair tie.
“Your braids,” Airi said simply. “Tie them back more. They’ll get in the way.”
“Oh… right. Th-thank you.”
Sakuno hurried to fix them.
And almost immediately, she felt it—the difference.
Her movements were lighter. Cleaner. Less distracted.
Still not good. She knew that much.
But she wasn’t fighting herself anymore.
Next to her, Hoshino Airi moved like she didn’t need to think about where the ball would go.
Not running.
Arriving.
Effortless. Precise.
Like a line drawn through still air.
“Game. 6–4. Hoshino–Ryuzaki pair.”
Sakuno lowered her racket, breath uneven.
They had won.
She knew it hadn’t really been because of her.
But strangely, it didn’t feel like failure.
It felt… like she was allowed to be there.
Airi walked up to the net and stopped in front of her.
Up close, her expression was still unreadable, calm, distant, like she was looking at something beyond Sakuno rather than at her.
“You’re not bad,” she said after a moment.
A pause.
“Just slow.”
Sakuno flinched slightly.
But Airi had already turned her head away, like it was no more personal than a weather report.
“Still,” she added, quieter, “you adjust quickly. That’s useful.”
Sakuno looked up.
“…Useful?”
Airi didn’t answer right away.
Her eyes lingered on Sakuno a fraction longer than before just long enough to feel like awareness, not accident then drifted back to the court.
“You have potential,” she said. “Don’t waste it.”
Then, as if it were an afterthought:
“Your hair tie—keep it.”
And she was already walking away.
After practice, Tomo found her.
“Sakuno! You’re so lucky! First Prince Ryoma, now Hoshino Airi - she’s basically the future buchou! You’re getting noticed by all the big names!”
“Tomo… Ryoma didn’t notice me. He just returned a ball that fell into the boys area once.”
“Still! That’s notice!”
Sakuno didn’t correct her again.
The next day, Sakuno started noticing Hoshino Airi properly.
Not just her reputation but her presence.
Ice-blue eyes that rarely lingered on anything longer than necessary.
Short black hair tied back with absolute practicality.
The way she didn’t chase the ball instead she simply reached it before it mattered.
It wasn’t flashy.
It was certain.
“Hoshino, check the first-years’ basics.”
“On it, buchou.”
Airi moved down the line without hesitation.
She corrected posture with brief touches, minimal words, absolute efficiency.
When she reached Sakuno, she paused slightly longer.
Sakuno held her breath without meaning to.
Airi adjusted her stance with two simple movements wrist, shoulder close enough that Sakuno could feel the controlled steadiness of her hands.
“You’re improving,” Airi said.
Not praise.
Just observation.
Then, quieter:
“Don’t fall behind now.”
Sakuno’s cheeks warmed. “I… I won’t.”
Airi stepped back.
“You should come for mentoring,” she added, already turning away.
It wasn’t a question.
But it didn’t feel like an order either.
Sakuno nodded before she even fully processed it.
She arrived early on purpose.
Not because she needed to.
Because she wanted to.
She had changed into her tennis clothes carefully more carefully than usual—then immediately regretted noticing that.
From the far court, she saw two familiar figures.
Ryoma.
Tezuka.
She didn’t understand what she was seeing at first.
Then Ryoma leaned in.
And everything stopped making sense.
Sakuno’s fingers loosened around her racket.
A voice called her name.
“Ryuzaki.”
Warm. Close.
A hand settled lightly on her shoulder.
Airi.
“Are you ready?”
Sakuno didn’t answer properly.
She just nodded.
She played terribly.
Worse than terrible.
Her timing was gone. Her focus scattered. Her body moved before she could think.
Airi didn’t comment at first.
She just returned everything anyway.
Then—
“Ryuzaki.”
Sakuno froze slightly.
“I’m not distracted,” she lied automatically.
Airi stepped closer.
Not angry.
Not soft.
Just present.
She lifted Sakuno’s face slightly with two fingers, forcing her gaze up.
“Then why are you not here?”
Silence.
Sakuno’s throat tightened.
“I…”
Nothing came out.
Airi released her immediately.
Like she already understood the answer didn’t matter.
“Why do you play tennis?” she asked instead.
The question wasn’t gentle.
But it wasn’t cruel either.
It was clean.
Sakuno looked down at the court.
“I… don’t know.”
Airi nodded once.
“Then you’re wasting time.”
“Find it before tomorrow.”
The next day, Sakuno came back.
Not for Ryoma.
Not because she was told to.
Just… because she did.
And when she stepped onto court, Airi looked at her for a moment longer than usual.
That was all.
But it was enough.
Later, after practice Airi had managed to find her in the locker room.
“I’m open to still mentoring you.”
Airi said it like it was an arrangement, not an invitation.
Sakuno’s hands tightened slightly around her bag strap.
“I… I’d like that.”
A pause.
Airi’s gaze flicked to her—brief, unreadable.
“Good,” she said simply.
“Try not to lose focus again.”
And she walked away.
Sakuno stood there a moment longer than necessary.
Her heart wasn’t calm.
It wasn’t like before.
It didn’t hurt.
It just… wouldn’t settle.
And she didn’t understand why the sound of Airi’s voice felt louder in her head than anything else that day.