Title: Not a Henchman
Author: Luce Red
Series: The Prince of Tennis
Disclaimer: characters and situations are the property of Konomi, Jump, Shueish and their affiliated parts.
Notes/Rating: General, taking liberties with canon

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Kabaji wonders.

He was always slow as a child, but he was not stupid. His parents, brilliant and successful in their different ways, were dismayed at a son who defied expectations of what the heir of an electronics business should look like. Certainly it was not a tall and hulking boy, with a naturally dull-looking face and an ambling gait, which gave strangers the impression of a big dumb giant. Kabaji wonders if the image of Oshitari would suit their image better.

But they were not neglectful parents, only concerned ones, and on the recommendation of friends, got him to learn tennis on the basis that it would improve his interaction skills. He didn't shine on the courts, but he held his own, exceeding all expectations, except perhaps his own. Kabaji was not inclined to personal introspection or expectations: he only knew to give all he had, because that was the way he was. Occasionally, he wonders about data tennis and why it works.

He had always been big for his age; he towered over his classmates throughout elementary school, which helped to deflect bullies, but didn't make the other children less frightened of him. And after the first few years of elementary school, the attacks were no longer physical, anyway, but came in the form of taunts and jeers about the big 'weirdo' which he shrugged off, and tried not to remember. He was always cast in the role of a henchman, or a follower, as if he was too stupid to think for himself.

It continued even when he got into Hyotei.

Kabaji wonders, on the rare times that he wonders--for he was generally not, as a person, given to much retrospection--why anyone would assume that he was stupid. Hyotei, one of the top private schools in Japan, simply didn't accept students who were deemed incapable of doing the schoolwork and could impede the school's record of having all of its students going to the top five universities in the country, every year. Kabaji's father was good at what he did, but he was not as rich as, say, Atobe (not that Atobe needed to buy his way anywhere).

Kabaji considered briefly the possibility, in advanced social studies class, that these assumptions continued because he simply didn't fit into Japan's preferred image for a successful and popular male: a charismatic leader, good looking, talented in every field, confident and fully recognizant of those facts. Someone exactly like Atobe, in fact.

He had met Atobe on his first day at Hyotei, when his teachers were already giving him suspicious looks, as if to wonder why he was in Hyotei, despite the fact that Kabaji had breezed through--if a person of his hulking appearance could be said to 'breeze' through anything--the entrance exams without breaking a sweat. As a second-year pupil (he had a whole year to impress all nay-sayers), Atobe already shone wherever he went, attracting fans by the dozen in the school. Kabaji had wondered what it was like to be so popular, and had quickly made up his mind (a rare instance for him) that it would be far more exhausting than he liked.

He had brought his tennis bag along--his parents said it would help, if he joined a club in school--and when he got to the tennis club in the afternoon, Atobe was there. He'd seen Atobe play tennis, beating a boastful third-year player with a smug ease he envied. Aghast at losing, the third-year got his friends to confront Atobe, where he sat wiping sweat from his face, where Kabaji sat watching. Without knowing why, Kabaji shifted forward on the bench, just a little, and watched as wary faces took in his massive built, and shifted into familiar, taunting expressions.

Atobe drew himself up with a smirk, with a quick glance at Kabaji. "Prepare to be beaten," he said to the challengers, before turning to him.  "Kabaji, right?  Why don't you show our senpai here how you play tennis?"  His tone told him that he did not expect Kabaji to lose; the smirking expression invited Kabaji to be amused at the forthcoming defeat.

It was not in Kabaji's nature to gloat, but the expectation made him pause as he stood up, clumsier than ever, while the senpai jeered.  He muttered "usu," because that was what he usually said, even if it got him jeers and taunts.  That was all right; Kabaji was used to unkindness.  He made his way to the courts, conscious of Atobe's lazing form at the side, watching.

The conclusion of the match was foregone, of course.  By that afternoon not only Atobe but the coach had seen him play.  He joined the club and was soon known as 'the scary guy with Atobe-sama'.  He was the person who followed Atobe around, carried his books and his tennis bag, stood around looking threatening, and who played tennis solely, it seemed, on Atobe's say-so.  Atobe's popularity grew, and teasing of Kabaji lessened.  Atobe became captain in his third year and Kabaji became the first second-year to make the school team.  But Kabaji did not choose to follow Atobe for that.

He did, however, follow Atobe because Atobe was one of the rare people who didn't assume that he was a bully, or that he was a henchman, because he was Kabaji. Atobe expected Kabaji to carry his books and his tennis bag and to run his errands because Atobe was the kind of person who expected everyone to do the same for him. It was just that Kabaji volunteered first.

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