(no subject)
Self;
Name/Alias: Song
Personal LJ: 1adychaos
E-mail Address: asongforcrows [at] yahoo [dot] com
AIM: minstrel zee (OOC) or fudo grrrl (IC)
Other Messengers:
Character;
Character: Tachibana An (An Tachibana "Americanized")
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Character age: Just turned 18 (born March 21, 1991)
Residence: Flushing, Queens
Occupation: Works part-time at Strand Bookstore
If [student], then specify school: Enrolled at NYU College of Arts & Sciences beginning in the Fall semester
Reserved Character? Yes
History;
Canon or AU? AR--An is canon up to the end of the series. Since she's four years older, I've had to fill in the blanks.
Supernatural powers? Does Super Saiyan Tennis count? Incredible Little Sister Twisting Around Finger Power of Doom? How about the ability to drag people into her schemes before they have time to protest? Didn't think so. No powers, but she plays a mean game of tennis. Then again, in the PoT verse, tennis is a superpower.
Wikipedia [or other] link to Canon Information:
I’m providing three links for An because it’s nearly as hard to find information on her as it is to find it on Hard to Live in the City. You’ve heard that, right? The song by Albert Hammond, Jr.?
Prince of Tennis
FET (Note: An's true birth date is March 21. The June date you see on a lot of sites belongs to her seiyu.)
Wikipedia
NationMaster (Note the return of the wrong birth date. The March date appears on one of the videogames. Too bad, because the thought of Tachibana and An being back-to-back babies amuses me.)
Anything else we should know?
• An's searching for that doorway into Narnia. She’ll find it one day, too.
• She feels really, really bad that she couldn't return Kamio's feelings (but not bad enough to pretend that she did).
• She'd do anything for her big brother.
• An’s a darn good cook. She makes a mean batch of brownies.
• An has a fascination for Roger Federer's furry tummy, which is odd since she's neutral about male body hair in general.
• Her most prized possession is a Federer poster her brother gave to her when she started to play tennis. An superstitiously rubs Poster Feds' belly before each of her games. It gives her good luck.
• An keeps a memory box full of odd mementoes and items she finds interesting or that will remind her of a specific event, from pebbles to autographs.
• She still sleeps with a blue, stuffed toy elephant she calls Mr. Snuffles.
In-Game Backstory: [ie. Character history]
An's history follows canon up until autumn of her 8th grade year. By then, the National Tennis Championship had finished and the tennis season was over. An's brother, Kippei, began cram classes and started to apply to high schools in the area.
A chance remark--Ishida declaring Fudomine would be sure to win Nationals next year with An as their mascot/good luck charm--started everything in motion. Was that all she had to give? Was that all she wanted, to sit in the stands and cheer? After all, she had attended all the same tennis camps and studied under all the same pros as her brother. She was a decent player in her own right (albeit a bit rusty). But once her family had moved to Tokyo, An had set all that aside. If her brother was going to give up tennis, so would she. Besides, An knew it wouldn’t be long before she knocked some sense into Kippei and got him playing again. Once that happened, she could pick up her own racket. Only, Fudomine didn’t have a girls’ tennis team and Kippei wasn’t the same person he’d been before. He’d fallen into a deep funk after the accident that landed Chitose-niisan in the hospital. Kippei needed her to stand by his side. Her brother came first.
Kippei found atonement at Nationals and moved on with his life. Wasn't it time for An to do the same?
"Much as I love you guys, that’s not happening," she'd told Ishida. "I’m petitioning the school to start a girls' team. They should go for it since you guys did so well.” The very next day, An marched into the school office and presented the paperwork. She may have thrown her name around a little, so what? Tachibana might be a common surname, but at that time, in that place, it had clout. An believed in using every advantage.
Fudomine's girls' tennis team struggled that first year (after all, most of its members had never swung a racket before trying out). Still, it did much better than anyone expected. An applied to a high school with an established girls' team and was named captain in her junior year. She took Yamabuki to the National Semi-Finals that year. In her senior year, her team walked over the competition. She began playing in JTA tournaments as often as her school team commitments--and finances--would allow.
When An’s coach was offered a position at the USTA Training Center in New York, she offered to take An with her to continue her training and to compete against a greater variety of opponents. An’s parents grudgingly approved the move. An’s promise to attend NYU in the fall may have had something to do with that. After taking a few weeks to say goodbye to all her friends, An set out to begin her new life.
Presentation;
Third Person Sample:
By six in the morning, Tachibana An had run eight kilometers--five miles that is (and would she ever get used to this weird measuring system)--practiced 500 swings, 500 backhands and, oh yeah, been peppered by Midorikawa Sensei’s ego-shriveling encouragement. By 6:05, An had had enough.
“A 90 year-old granny could have returned that!”
“Faster!”
“Lunge!”
“Tennis courts are supposed to have tennis players, not weak little girls!”
“Too slow!” “Too weak!” “Too predictable!” “Crawl back to Japan and cry to your mommy!”
And the hated, “Again! Again! Again!”
They pissed her off, those insults, sparked her determination, kindled her hunger. An shifted her grip on her racket and grimaced. The blisters had broken open again. She shook off the pain. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except returning Midorikawa’s serves, preferably right into her coach’s pretty, smirking face.
An’s expression never changed, but the thought of an imaginary ball slamming straight into Midorikawa Sensei’s mouth calmed her. Her coach didn’t need all those teeth anyway.
“Again!” Midorikawa threw up her hands in disgust. “Focus! Don’t waste my time if you’re not going to show up.”
What made her think she wasn’t focusing? An crouched in the service box and awaited the next serve. If she put enough spin on her imaginary return, maybe the ball would land smack in sensei’s mouth mid-yell and she’d wind up looking like a roasted pig. Now that she’d pay money to see. Her lips twitched.
The yellow ball whizzed dangerously past her ear. An jumped, lost her grip and watched forlornly as her racket clattered to the ground, spinning a little on the rim like a top before toppling over. Great. Just great.
Midorikawa gave her a mocking salute and sauntered back to the baseline. “Pay. Attention. Next time you’ll be nursing a concussion.”
An snatched up her racket and scrambled after the next serve. Sensei could be a real bitch when she wanted to be. She wasn’t adverse to pelting An with tennis balls to get results. All the more reason to picture her with a tennis ball straight to the face. There’d be blood. She hurled Midorikawa’s volley right back to her with interest. Maybe bone-that’d be cool. An sneered when her coach took a familiar stance. She had to be kidding. Twist serve? Was that all she had? An had been returning Ibu-kun’s for five years now. It’d take more than a fancy serve to trip her up.
But nothing had ever slapped so hard into An’s racket that it sent tremors up and down her arm. Her grip loosened for a split second and she clamped down. Hard. Warm liquid trickled down her palm. Damn it. More broken blisters. She. Would. Not. Be. Defeated.
“Not happening!” she bellowed and swung with all her might. At the last minute, she gave her wrist an extra twist. The ball hurled over the net, taking a surprising turn towards her coach’s backhand. Midorikawa let it bounce and go out.
“Enough for this morning.”
An nodded and trudged to the sideline. Her aching legs shook too much to hold her, and she sank gratefully onto the bench. She wondered if she should worry about her violent imagination. The pros all claimed you had to visualize your wins in order to win. But, somehow, An didn’t think Federer spent a lot of time picturing Rafa strewn across the court in a gory trail of blood and entrails. Hmmm. Maybe she should lay off the late night horror movies. And the midnight ice cream raids. She thought about it. Nah. Not the ice cream. Besides, she’d never really try to hurt someone with tennis, not really. Okay, so she could think of a few players who deserved a little poetic justice by way of bloody mayhem, but that didn’t mean she wanted to see anyone actually hurt. It shouldn't be this warm on an early April morning. An dug in her tennis bag, found a bottle of water and dumped it over her head.
“What have I told you about that?” Her coach chastised.
An rolled her eyes and mimicked. “Water is for drinking, not showering.” She twisted the cap off another bottle and gulped down the cool liquid. “’m hot.”
“It’s 45 degrees out. Save your bathing for when it’s ninety. And put on your sweat jacket before your muscles freeze up. That’s enough water. Start your cool-down.”
“Yes, Sensei.” She obligingly shrugged into her jacket.
"Better get used to calling me Coach. We're a long way from Japan." Midorikawa ran her fingers through sweaty hair. Bet she dumps water all over herself soon as I’m not looking, An thought uncharitably.
“When did you learn the inside-out forehand?”
“Eh?”
“Your last return. It looked like a regular forehand return but veered off to my backhand at the last minute.”
An thought about it. “Oh, that. Dunno. Kippei, probably. Been doing it since forever. You mean I’ve never used it before?”
Her coach shook her head. “You’re too lazy, Tachibana. You won’t exert yourself unless you’re interested. I have to get you mad before you knuckle under and pay attention. You have good instincts and you keep your head no matter how much I piss you off, but you need to get to that angry place sooner.”
“But-“ Her brother had played violently and the repercussions from it had almost destroyed him. She could still see the blood squirting through Chitose-niisan’s fingers. She swallowed. “I don’t want to hurt people.”
Midorikawa cuffed the side of her head. “You won’t. You can’t play if you lose control, idiot. But you need to find that passion earlier in your game or you’ll lose when you’re up against a pro.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Do that.”
An nodded and began the long, slow jog around the courts. Had she really been coasting all this time? What was her tennis, anyway--not her brother’s, not Kamio-kun’s, not Ibu-kun’s-hers? She’d flown halfway around the world to figure it out. Maybe she should start working on finding the answer.
But first she had to finish cooling down and get cleaned up. Then there was work, and if she was lucky, that little ice cream parlor down the street from Midorikawa’s apartment would still be open when she got off. Thursday was strawberry chocolate swirl cheesecake day. Time enough to think about tennis later.
But maybe she’d give Kippei a call. Just in case.
Questions;
Set I.
Would you rather learn everything there is to know or experience everything there is to experience?
I'm one of those people who learns best by doing. You can't live locked up inside musty old books. Not going to let anything-or anyone--clip my wings.
Which would you rather give up, television or books?
That one's easy. Books give you more choice, and the stories are always better in them. Besides, you never said a word about movies. I can have the best of both worlds. I don't watch much TV anyway.
Is the glass half empty or half full?
Half full, of course, but I like to top it off as often as I can.
Do you believe in love at first sight?
I’ve met people for the first time and felt like I’ve known them all my life, so I suppose love at first sight is possible. But-and it’s a big but--I’m fairly certain people mistake good old animal attraction for love. Maybe the big whammy hits you when you’re incredibly attracted to one of those instant friends. Anyway, I think real love develops over time, after you’ve had a chance to experience the good and the bad. Maybe you can’t really love someone until you’ve held their head while they barfed.
Would you sleep with your boss to keep from losing your high-end job?
Oh, HELL NO. Ew. And if he tried to pull that on me I'd serve him up one cup crushed nuts.
What is your guilty pleasure?
Roger Federer's furry tummy. It's definitely ice cream, but basashi* makes a close second. Hey, bet if I dumped ice cream over basashi I could turn a lot of faces green. I’ll have to try that.
*Basashi is a Kyushu delicacy, raw horsemeat served over ice with daikon and garlic.
If you were stranded on an island and could only take one thing, what would it be?
Duh. A boat with a working sail and/or plenty of fuel.
What is your biggest pet peeve?
Bullies, especially the sort who pick on people who can't fight back. I'm always happy to put a bully in his place.
Set II.
Describe your first kiss.
Wet, sloppy and painful. I might have liked it better if the guy hadn’t slammed our foreheads together-I had a bruise for three days afterward-and ground his mouth against mine. I mean, seriously. This guy cut my gums. Is that even possible? That’s the last time I ever volunteer to play seven minutes in heaven, let me tell you.
Describe the most difficult experience you've ever had to deal with.
You need a little back story to understand this one. My brother, Kippei, and I are really close. I thought the sun rose and set with him. I still do, kind of. He's a really great guy. He doesn't suffer fools gladly. I've seen him be a complete jerk to someone, then turn around and shore up someone else until they found their feet. Then both people wind up thanking him. I guess that's what they mean by charisma.
We had our share of the inevitable comparisons once I started to seriously compete. It annoyed me at first. Later on, all the hype amused me. I mean, why get angry if someone compares you to a player who’s one of the best in the country?
The real problem was Kippei’s over protectiveness. I mean--God--it drives me insane--steam blowing out your ears kind of insane. I know he means well, but it's freaking insulting! About the time I grew boobs and discovered boys (and vice versa) Kippei decided his little sister was made of porcelain, sugar and spice and everything nice-hah!--and definitely was not to be sullied by mortal hands. I swear, if chastity belts were still in style, he’d have convinced our folks I needed one for my own protection.
when Kippei let his team know that his little sister needed protection from the wide, wide world (read, boys) I found myself saddled with seven big brothers where before I'd had just the one. I couldn't go anywhere--and I mean anywhere--without one of the seven turning up. You haven’t lived until you’ve been escorted to and from the ladies’ room at the arcade. Anytime I thought I might like some guy and want to get to know him better, someone from Kippei's little cult of personality would appear. It was like they possessed some bizarre An’s Found a Guy sense. Kippei was the absolute worst. In his defense, he never said a word to discourage anyone. Then again, he didn't have to. My brother’s not a small guy. He sort of looms. And flexes without flexing. And sheds disapproval and threat in a thick black cloud. I never had a boyfriend while I was home--not one (at least, not for longer than a day).
It's not all Kippei's fault. He’s my big brother and I love him. If Kippei was happy then I was happy. See, I stopped playing tennis when our family moved to Tokyo because I thought Kippei needed me. Don't get me wrong. My brother never ever ever would have asked me to do that. He didn’t even know I had tennis goals of my own 'cause I never said. (Kippei would have been the first to smack me upside the head and tell me not to put myself last.) I simply fell into the habit of putting Kippei first.
Then I met this guy I really did like. A lot. I thought he liked me. Kippei didn't even have to loom at this jerk. Turns out the guy only got close to me in an attempt to get close to my big brother. He never liked me at all. He didn't even like girls. I felt pretty stupid, let me tell you. And hurt. And mad.
Then Midorikawa Sensei told me she was moving to the US. I couldn’t believe it. Just how was I to find another coach at her level? I was only eighteen, and my entire life was going down the drain. Pretty sure I wasn’t any fun to be around during that time. Ahah. Yeah. So when Sensei came to me and said she believed in me, that I could make it as a pro if I trained hard enough and that she wanted me to come with her, I jumped at the chance. Okay, maybe I didn’t jump as fast as it sounds. It was tough, you know? Should I leave my family, friends, Kippei behind or should I give up on my dream forever?
I thought about it for a long time. If there's one thing my brother taught me, it was to never give up without a fight. I might gripe about Kippei's shadow, but until I made the move, I'd always be content to shelter in it. I needed to stand on my own feet and see if I could make my dream a reality.Win or lose, I'd never be able to move on until I knew the answer. In the end I packed my bags and said goodbye to Japan and basashi and hello to New York and hot dogs. This fledgling should have left her nest a long time ago. Time I find out if I can fly.
So in a nutshell, the hardest thing I've ever done is to pull up my roots and move across the world.
Name/Alias: Song
Personal LJ: 1adychaos
E-mail Address: asongforcrows [at] yahoo [dot] com
AIM: minstrel zee (OOC) or fudo grrrl (IC)
Other Messengers:
Character;
Character: Tachibana An (An Tachibana "Americanized")
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Character age: Just turned 18 (born March 21, 1991)
Residence: Flushing, Queens
Occupation: Works part-time at Strand Bookstore
If [student], then specify school: Enrolled at NYU College of Arts & Sciences beginning in the Fall semester
Reserved Character? Yes
History;
Canon or AU? AR--An is canon up to the end of the series. Since she's four years older, I've had to fill in the blanks.
Supernatural powers? Does Super Saiyan Tennis count? Incredible Little Sister Twisting Around Finger Power of Doom? How about the ability to drag people into her schemes before they have time to protest? Didn't think so. No powers, but she plays a mean game of tennis. Then again, in the PoT verse, tennis is a superpower.
Wikipedia [or other] link to Canon Information:
I’m providing three links for An because it’s nearly as hard to find information on her as it is to find it on Hard to Live in the City. You’ve heard that, right? The song by Albert Hammond, Jr.?
Prince of Tennis
FET (Note: An's true birth date is March 21. The June date you see on a lot of sites belongs to her seiyu.)
Wikipedia
NationMaster (Note the return of the wrong birth date. The March date appears on one of the videogames. Too bad, because the thought of Tachibana and An being back-to-back babies amuses me.)
Anything else we should know?
• An's searching for that doorway into Narnia. She’ll find it one day, too.
• She feels really, really bad that she couldn't return Kamio's feelings (but not bad enough to pretend that she did).
• She'd do anything for her big brother.
• An’s a darn good cook. She makes a mean batch of brownies.
• An has a fascination for Roger Federer's furry tummy, which is odd since she's neutral about male body hair in general.
• Her most prized possession is a Federer poster her brother gave to her when she started to play tennis. An superstitiously rubs Poster Feds' belly before each of her games. It gives her good luck.
• An keeps a memory box full of odd mementoes and items she finds interesting or that will remind her of a specific event, from pebbles to autographs.
• She still sleeps with a blue, stuffed toy elephant she calls Mr. Snuffles.
In-Game Backstory: [ie. Character history]
An's history follows canon up until autumn of her 8th grade year. By then, the National Tennis Championship had finished and the tennis season was over. An's brother, Kippei, began cram classes and started to apply to high schools in the area.
A chance remark--Ishida declaring Fudomine would be sure to win Nationals next year with An as their mascot/good luck charm--started everything in motion. Was that all she had to give? Was that all she wanted, to sit in the stands and cheer? After all, she had attended all the same tennis camps and studied under all the same pros as her brother. She was a decent player in her own right (albeit a bit rusty). But once her family had moved to Tokyo, An had set all that aside. If her brother was going to give up tennis, so would she. Besides, An knew it wouldn’t be long before she knocked some sense into Kippei and got him playing again. Once that happened, she could pick up her own racket. Only, Fudomine didn’t have a girls’ tennis team and Kippei wasn’t the same person he’d been before. He’d fallen into a deep funk after the accident that landed Chitose-niisan in the hospital. Kippei needed her to stand by his side. Her brother came first.
Kippei found atonement at Nationals and moved on with his life. Wasn't it time for An to do the same?
"Much as I love you guys, that’s not happening," she'd told Ishida. "I’m petitioning the school to start a girls' team. They should go for it since you guys did so well.” The very next day, An marched into the school office and presented the paperwork. She may have thrown her name around a little, so what? Tachibana might be a common surname, but at that time, in that place, it had clout. An believed in using every advantage.
Fudomine's girls' tennis team struggled that first year (after all, most of its members had never swung a racket before trying out). Still, it did much better than anyone expected. An applied to a high school with an established girls' team and was named captain in her junior year. She took Yamabuki to the National Semi-Finals that year. In her senior year, her team walked over the competition. She began playing in JTA tournaments as often as her school team commitments--and finances--would allow.
When An’s coach was offered a position at the USTA Training Center in New York, she offered to take An with her to continue her training and to compete against a greater variety of opponents. An’s parents grudgingly approved the move. An’s promise to attend NYU in the fall may have had something to do with that. After taking a few weeks to say goodbye to all her friends, An set out to begin her new life.
Presentation;
Third Person Sample:
By six in the morning, Tachibana An had run eight kilometers--five miles that is (and would she ever get used to this weird measuring system)--practiced 500 swings, 500 backhands and, oh yeah, been peppered by Midorikawa Sensei’s ego-shriveling encouragement. By 6:05, An had had enough.
“A 90 year-old granny could have returned that!”
“Faster!”
“Lunge!”
“Tennis courts are supposed to have tennis players, not weak little girls!”
“Too slow!” “Too weak!” “Too predictable!” “Crawl back to Japan and cry to your mommy!”
And the hated, “Again! Again! Again!”
They pissed her off, those insults, sparked her determination, kindled her hunger. An shifted her grip on her racket and grimaced. The blisters had broken open again. She shook off the pain. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except returning Midorikawa’s serves, preferably right into her coach’s pretty, smirking face.
An’s expression never changed, but the thought of an imaginary ball slamming straight into Midorikawa Sensei’s mouth calmed her. Her coach didn’t need all those teeth anyway.
“Again!” Midorikawa threw up her hands in disgust. “Focus! Don’t waste my time if you’re not going to show up.”
What made her think she wasn’t focusing? An crouched in the service box and awaited the next serve. If she put enough spin on her imaginary return, maybe the ball would land smack in sensei’s mouth mid-yell and she’d wind up looking like a roasted pig. Now that she’d pay money to see. Her lips twitched.
The yellow ball whizzed dangerously past her ear. An jumped, lost her grip and watched forlornly as her racket clattered to the ground, spinning a little on the rim like a top before toppling over. Great. Just great.
Midorikawa gave her a mocking salute and sauntered back to the baseline. “Pay. Attention. Next time you’ll be nursing a concussion.”
An snatched up her racket and scrambled after the next serve. Sensei could be a real bitch when she wanted to be. She wasn’t adverse to pelting An with tennis balls to get results. All the more reason to picture her with a tennis ball straight to the face. There’d be blood. She hurled Midorikawa’s volley right back to her with interest. Maybe bone-that’d be cool. An sneered when her coach took a familiar stance. She had to be kidding. Twist serve? Was that all she had? An had been returning Ibu-kun’s for five years now. It’d take more than a fancy serve to trip her up.
But nothing had ever slapped so hard into An’s racket that it sent tremors up and down her arm. Her grip loosened for a split second and she clamped down. Hard. Warm liquid trickled down her palm. Damn it. More broken blisters. She. Would. Not. Be. Defeated.
“Not happening!” she bellowed and swung with all her might. At the last minute, she gave her wrist an extra twist. The ball hurled over the net, taking a surprising turn towards her coach’s backhand. Midorikawa let it bounce and go out.
“Enough for this morning.”
An nodded and trudged to the sideline. Her aching legs shook too much to hold her, and she sank gratefully onto the bench. She wondered if she should worry about her violent imagination. The pros all claimed you had to visualize your wins in order to win. But, somehow, An didn’t think Federer spent a lot of time picturing Rafa strewn across the court in a gory trail of blood and entrails. Hmmm. Maybe she should lay off the late night horror movies. And the midnight ice cream raids. She thought about it. Nah. Not the ice cream. Besides, she’d never really try to hurt someone with tennis, not really. Okay, so she could think of a few players who deserved a little poetic justice by way of bloody mayhem, but that didn’t mean she wanted to see anyone actually hurt. It shouldn't be this warm on an early April morning. An dug in her tennis bag, found a bottle of water and dumped it over her head.
“What have I told you about that?” Her coach chastised.
An rolled her eyes and mimicked. “Water is for drinking, not showering.” She twisted the cap off another bottle and gulped down the cool liquid. “’m hot.”
“It’s 45 degrees out. Save your bathing for when it’s ninety. And put on your sweat jacket before your muscles freeze up. That’s enough water. Start your cool-down.”
“Yes, Sensei.” She obligingly shrugged into her jacket.
"Better get used to calling me Coach. We're a long way from Japan." Midorikawa ran her fingers through sweaty hair. Bet she dumps water all over herself soon as I’m not looking, An thought uncharitably.
“When did you learn the inside-out forehand?”
“Eh?”
“Your last return. It looked like a regular forehand return but veered off to my backhand at the last minute.”
An thought about it. “Oh, that. Dunno. Kippei, probably. Been doing it since forever. You mean I’ve never used it before?”
Her coach shook her head. “You’re too lazy, Tachibana. You won’t exert yourself unless you’re interested. I have to get you mad before you knuckle under and pay attention. You have good instincts and you keep your head no matter how much I piss you off, but you need to get to that angry place sooner.”
“But-“ Her brother had played violently and the repercussions from it had almost destroyed him. She could still see the blood squirting through Chitose-niisan’s fingers. She swallowed. “I don’t want to hurt people.”
Midorikawa cuffed the side of her head. “You won’t. You can’t play if you lose control, idiot. But you need to find that passion earlier in your game or you’ll lose when you’re up against a pro.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Do that.”
An nodded and began the long, slow jog around the courts. Had she really been coasting all this time? What was her tennis, anyway--not her brother’s, not Kamio-kun’s, not Ibu-kun’s-hers? She’d flown halfway around the world to figure it out. Maybe she should start working on finding the answer.
But first she had to finish cooling down and get cleaned up. Then there was work, and if she was lucky, that little ice cream parlor down the street from Midorikawa’s apartment would still be open when she got off. Thursday was strawberry chocolate swirl cheesecake day. Time enough to think about tennis later.
But maybe she’d give Kippei a call. Just in case.
Questions;
Set I.
Would you rather learn everything there is to know or experience everything there is to experience?
I'm one of those people who learns best by doing. You can't live locked up inside musty old books. Not going to let anything-or anyone--clip my wings.
Which would you rather give up, television or books?
That one's easy. Books give you more choice, and the stories are always better in them. Besides, you never said a word about movies. I can have the best of both worlds. I don't watch much TV anyway.
Is the glass half empty or half full?
Half full, of course, but I like to top it off as often as I can.
Do you believe in love at first sight?
I’ve met people for the first time and felt like I’ve known them all my life, so I suppose love at first sight is possible. But-and it’s a big but--I’m fairly certain people mistake good old animal attraction for love. Maybe the big whammy hits you when you’re incredibly attracted to one of those instant friends. Anyway, I think real love develops over time, after you’ve had a chance to experience the good and the bad. Maybe you can’t really love someone until you’ve held their head while they barfed.
Would you sleep with your boss to keep from losing your high-end job?
Oh, HELL NO. Ew. And if he tried to pull that on me I'd serve him up one cup crushed nuts.
What is your guilty pleasure?
Roger Federer's furry tummy. It's definitely ice cream, but basashi* makes a close second. Hey, bet if I dumped ice cream over basashi I could turn a lot of faces green. I’ll have to try that.
*Basashi is a Kyushu delicacy, raw horsemeat served over ice with daikon and garlic.
If you were stranded on an island and could only take one thing, what would it be?
Duh. A boat with a working sail and/or plenty of fuel.
What is your biggest pet peeve?
Bullies, especially the sort who pick on people who can't fight back. I'm always happy to put a bully in his place.
Set II.
Describe your first kiss.
Wet, sloppy and painful. I might have liked it better if the guy hadn’t slammed our foreheads together-I had a bruise for three days afterward-and ground his mouth against mine. I mean, seriously. This guy cut my gums. Is that even possible? That’s the last time I ever volunteer to play seven minutes in heaven, let me tell you.
Describe the most difficult experience you've ever had to deal with.
You need a little back story to understand this one. My brother, Kippei, and I are really close. I thought the sun rose and set with him. I still do, kind of. He's a really great guy. He doesn't suffer fools gladly. I've seen him be a complete jerk to someone, then turn around and shore up someone else until they found their feet. Then both people wind up thanking him. I guess that's what they mean by charisma.
We had our share of the inevitable comparisons once I started to seriously compete. It annoyed me at first. Later on, all the hype amused me. I mean, why get angry if someone compares you to a player who’s one of the best in the country?
The real problem was Kippei’s over protectiveness. I mean--God--it drives me insane--steam blowing out your ears kind of insane. I know he means well, but it's freaking insulting! About the time I grew boobs and discovered boys (and vice versa) Kippei decided his little sister was made of porcelain, sugar and spice and everything nice-hah!--and definitely was not to be sullied by mortal hands. I swear, if chastity belts were still in style, he’d have convinced our folks I needed one for my own protection.
when Kippei let his team know that his little sister needed protection from the wide, wide world (read, boys) I found myself saddled with seven big brothers where before I'd had just the one. I couldn't go anywhere--and I mean anywhere--without one of the seven turning up. You haven’t lived until you’ve been escorted to and from the ladies’ room at the arcade. Anytime I thought I might like some guy and want to get to know him better, someone from Kippei's little cult of personality would appear. It was like they possessed some bizarre An’s Found a Guy sense. Kippei was the absolute worst. In his defense, he never said a word to discourage anyone. Then again, he didn't have to. My brother’s not a small guy. He sort of looms. And flexes without flexing. And sheds disapproval and threat in a thick black cloud. I never had a boyfriend while I was home--not one (at least, not for longer than a day).
It's not all Kippei's fault. He’s my big brother and I love him. If Kippei was happy then I was happy. See, I stopped playing tennis when our family moved to Tokyo because I thought Kippei needed me. Don't get me wrong. My brother never ever ever would have asked me to do that. He didn’t even know I had tennis goals of my own 'cause I never said. (Kippei would have been the first to smack me upside the head and tell me not to put myself last.) I simply fell into the habit of putting Kippei first.
Then I met this guy I really did like. A lot. I thought he liked me. Kippei didn't even have to loom at this jerk. Turns out the guy only got close to me in an attempt to get close to my big brother. He never liked me at all. He didn't even like girls. I felt pretty stupid, let me tell you. And hurt. And mad.
Then Midorikawa Sensei told me she was moving to the US. I couldn’t believe it. Just how was I to find another coach at her level? I was only eighteen, and my entire life was going down the drain. Pretty sure I wasn’t any fun to be around during that time. Ahah. Yeah. So when Sensei came to me and said she believed in me, that I could make it as a pro if I trained hard enough and that she wanted me to come with her, I jumped at the chance. Okay, maybe I didn’t jump as fast as it sounds. It was tough, you know? Should I leave my family, friends, Kippei behind or should I give up on my dream forever?
I thought about it for a long time. If there's one thing my brother taught me, it was to never give up without a fight. I might gripe about Kippei's shadow, but until I made the move, I'd always be content to shelter in it. I needed to stand on my own feet and see if I could make my dream a reality.Win or lose, I'd never be able to move on until I knew the answer. In the end I packed my bags and said goodbye to Japan and basashi and hello to New York and hot dogs. This fledgling should have left her nest a long time ago. Time I find out if I can fly.
So in a nutshell, the hardest thing I've ever done is to pull up my roots and move across the world.