Five Middle School Tennis Clubs Fuji Never Joined (And One He Did) [Part 2/6]
title: Five Middle School Tennis Clubs Fuji Never Joined (And One He Did) [Part 2/6]
fandom: Prince of Tennis
summary: Fate takes care of itself. What will be will be, and circles eventually follow themselves back round.
notes: One of those Five Things Fics again ;) Fuji-centric. Brought about by his questioning how he and Tezuka might have been if they had gone to rival schools, though that question isn't addressed much here.
part two: In which sometimes, no matter the different choices made, you end up eventually travelling down the same road.
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Five Middle School Tennis Clubs Fuji Never Joined (And One He Did)
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St. Rudolph Gakuen
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Fuji knows by the second day that he should not have made his decision quite so rashly. But if he had not left Seishun Gakuen, Yuuta would quite possibly never have forgiven him for it. St. Rudolph had been close, and had an opening in both his year and the tennis club. He never stopped to wonder why until the second day.
It took a certain sort of person to be on the St. Rudolph tennis team, Fuji could see. You had to be strong, tough, determined, good at taking advice. No, not advice... Orders. Phrased more politely than that perhaps, but orders of what to do nonetheless.
He did not let it bother him at first; Fuji could play most of the team with his eyes closed, and one hand behind his back if he had wanted, but he was not going to embarrass any of them. He could accept any advice thrown his way, because he was new, and they did not know completely what he was capable of. He could say that for the coach, at least, anyway. Mizuki was a different story completely.
Mizuki was a third year like him, but obviously had too much self-confidence, because he only attended the club once, maybe twice a week. As though he did not even have to practice. Fuji wasn't openly outraged at something like that, but he found it distasteful. Even his own skills were not luck and talent alone; he had sharpened some of them to some extent through his training. As for his skills, Mizuki seemed to know about them in vast detail.
"You never use that Tsubame Gaeshi thing on someone else's serve, did you know that?"
"Your Higuma Otoshi isn't patented you know, another guy in another school does it too. Ever wondered if it might be better than yours?"
He liked to say the names of them anyway. A lot. As if rolling the syllables around in his mouth would make Fuji like him better. It so wasn't going to happen.
Mizuki pled his style was a form of data tennis, but it was just an excuse to spy on other teams. His data tennis was nothing like Inui's, whom Fuji still remembered, and spoke to as regularly as he found the chance. Mizuki rubbed him completely the wrong way, and it wouldn't take long for him to open his big mouth and show Fuji why.
"I saw your brother at that old school of yours, Seigaku," Mizuki said one day, as though discussing the weather, "Fuji Yuuta; he is your younger brother, isn't he? He didn't look all that happy to meet me, but I'm sure he was just surprised. I gave him some tips for improvement; he's not in the Regulars at Seigaku you know."
"I do know." Fuji said in a warning tone. Mizuki was generally oblivious to it.
"He would be in the Regulars here, if he could just master something like the Twist Spin Shot."
Fuji opened his eyes and glared at Mizuki. "Is that what you told him?" He demanded. Mizuki smirked.
"Are you afraid he might listen?"
Fuji flinched noticably. "Not to someone from a rival team, no."
"What if they had come from his brother, offering a piece of friendly advice?"
Fuji went cold inside. Mizuki could just be faking it, but it wasn't beyond him. More than one team-member had been injured, even slightly, before now because of Mizuki's advice and insistence on the win. No matter what it cost his players. It was a dedication to win unlike any Fuji had ever seen, and it made him feel sick. He knew he could stay at St. Rudolph no longer.
"Excuse me, I'm leaving now." He said, brushing Mizuki aside so that he could leave. But Mizuki caught the back of his jacket
"But it's still training time." Mizuki said. "And I am here. I think we should play a match, Fuji-kun."
"I suppose delaying my errands won't hurt for a little while." Fuji said icily. "Fine, a match."
From Mizuki's very first return, Fuji knows he has been present at more practices than it seems. He has spent far too much time watching Fuji, collecting data he believes is unbeatable. Fuji lets him keep that belief for a long time, ignoring the gasps and talk from the tennis club who have surrounded to watch them. Five games down, Mizuki is preening.
"Sorry, Fuji-kun," he says, smirking, "but there are casualties to victory."
Fuji has to muster all his self-control not to smile. The next five games fly past Mizuki before he has a chance to even blink. He can't get a hit in, he barely even swings his racket. Now Fuji does smile.
"I'm sorry, were you trying to get a point?" He asks. "You won't like this. I think your data is flawed."
He takes the last two games just as easily, and when the call is made Mizuki just begins to comprehend what has happened to him. The crowds have thinned; people not daring to even say they have seen the match happen, and there is silence everywhere.
"You bitch!" Mizuki shouts at Fuji, down on his knees and defeated. "You lost the first five games on purpose!"
"Thanks for taking care of my brother." Fuji says, and walks away without so much as glancing back at St. Rudolph's.
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fandom: Prince of Tennis
summary: Fate takes care of itself. What will be will be, and circles eventually follow themselves back round.
notes: One of those Five Things Fics again ;) Fuji-centric. Brought about by his questioning how he and Tezuka might have been if they had gone to rival schools, though that question isn't addressed much here.
part two: In which sometimes, no matter the different choices made, you end up eventually travelling down the same road.
-
Five Middle School Tennis Clubs Fuji Never Joined (And One He Did)
-
St. Rudolph Gakuen
-
Fuji knows by the second day that he should not have made his decision quite so rashly. But if he had not left Seishun Gakuen, Yuuta would quite possibly never have forgiven him for it. St. Rudolph had been close, and had an opening in both his year and the tennis club. He never stopped to wonder why until the second day.
It took a certain sort of person to be on the St. Rudolph tennis team, Fuji could see. You had to be strong, tough, determined, good at taking advice. No, not advice... Orders. Phrased more politely than that perhaps, but orders of what to do nonetheless.
He did not let it bother him at first; Fuji could play most of the team with his eyes closed, and one hand behind his back if he had wanted, but he was not going to embarrass any of them. He could accept any advice thrown his way, because he was new, and they did not know completely what he was capable of. He could say that for the coach, at least, anyway. Mizuki was a different story completely.
Mizuki was a third year like him, but obviously had too much self-confidence, because he only attended the club once, maybe twice a week. As though he did not even have to practice. Fuji wasn't openly outraged at something like that, but he found it distasteful. Even his own skills were not luck and talent alone; he had sharpened some of them to some extent through his training. As for his skills, Mizuki seemed to know about them in vast detail.
"You never use that Tsubame Gaeshi thing on someone else's serve, did you know that?"
"Your Higuma Otoshi isn't patented you know, another guy in another school does it too. Ever wondered if it might be better than yours?"
He liked to say the names of them anyway. A lot. As if rolling the syllables around in his mouth would make Fuji like him better. It so wasn't going to happen.
Mizuki pled his style was a form of data tennis, but it was just an excuse to spy on other teams. His data tennis was nothing like Inui's, whom Fuji still remembered, and spoke to as regularly as he found the chance. Mizuki rubbed him completely the wrong way, and it wouldn't take long for him to open his big mouth and show Fuji why.
"I saw your brother at that old school of yours, Seigaku," Mizuki said one day, as though discussing the weather, "Fuji Yuuta; he is your younger brother, isn't he? He didn't look all that happy to meet me, but I'm sure he was just surprised. I gave him some tips for improvement; he's not in the Regulars at Seigaku you know."
"I do know." Fuji said in a warning tone. Mizuki was generally oblivious to it.
"He would be in the Regulars here, if he could just master something like the Twist Spin Shot."
Fuji opened his eyes and glared at Mizuki. "Is that what you told him?" He demanded. Mizuki smirked.
"Are you afraid he might listen?"
Fuji flinched noticably. "Not to someone from a rival team, no."
"What if they had come from his brother, offering a piece of friendly advice?"
Fuji went cold inside. Mizuki could just be faking it, but it wasn't beyond him. More than one team-member had been injured, even slightly, before now because of Mizuki's advice and insistence on the win. No matter what it cost his players. It was a dedication to win unlike any Fuji had ever seen, and it made him feel sick. He knew he could stay at St. Rudolph no longer.
"Excuse me, I'm leaving now." He said, brushing Mizuki aside so that he could leave. But Mizuki caught the back of his jacket
"But it's still training time." Mizuki said. "And I am here. I think we should play a match, Fuji-kun."
"I suppose delaying my errands won't hurt for a little while." Fuji said icily. "Fine, a match."
From Mizuki's very first return, Fuji knows he has been present at more practices than it seems. He has spent far too much time watching Fuji, collecting data he believes is unbeatable. Fuji lets him keep that belief for a long time, ignoring the gasps and talk from the tennis club who have surrounded to watch them. Five games down, Mizuki is preening.
"Sorry, Fuji-kun," he says, smirking, "but there are casualties to victory."
Fuji has to muster all his self-control not to smile. The next five games fly past Mizuki before he has a chance to even blink. He can't get a hit in, he barely even swings his racket. Now Fuji does smile.
"I'm sorry, were you trying to get a point?" He asks. "You won't like this. I think your data is flawed."
He takes the last two games just as easily, and when the call is made Mizuki just begins to comprehend what has happened to him. The crowds have thinned; people not daring to even say they have seen the match happen, and there is silence everywhere.
"You bitch!" Mizuki shouts at Fuji, down on his knees and defeated. "You lost the first five games on purpose!"
"Thanks for taking care of my brother." Fuji says, and walks away without so much as glancing back at St. Rudolph's.
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