Last Dance
Title: Last Dance
Author: Aishuu
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Type: Gen!
Pairing: Tezuki/Ryuuzaki Sumire... j/k! *dies laughing*
Rating: G
Note thingie: Combined with the temps_morts challenge - it's currently "May I have this Dance." Written in 54 minutes, so it's not the final that will be released on ff.net.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Too lazy to look up the proper disclaimer at the moment.
He didn’t do dances.
Tezuka wasn’t fond of school functions, finding them trying. Every time he went to one, girls seeking his company immediately swamped him.
It wasn’t his idea of fun.
There was no way out of this one, though.
It was the gr aduation dance, and it was his last chance to see Seigaku. While most of the others would be moving onto the associated high school, he would not.
He had chosen a different road.
It felt odd to be here, seeing his classmates for the last time. Many of t hem he would never see again - people whom he’d spent three years of his life with, destined to fade into the depths of his past.
Kikumaru was bouncing around the celebration, darting between the food table and teasing his classmates. He’d barely managed to keep the grades he needed to enter the high school, but Oishi and Inui had forced him to buc kle down and cram. Now Oishi was looking like he might regret it, as he grabbed his doubles partner by the collar and dragged him away from the punch bowl.
Te zuka was glad that Oishi had Kikumaru. It made him feel less guilty about accepting the scholar ship to the British School.
The music they were playing was loud due to the amplifiers, and Tezuka felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. He liked the o rchestra, but he wished they hadn’t felt the need to hook up the sound-system from hell to mak e sure the entire neighborhood could hear it. He didn’t like noise, and he couldn’t see Inui, Fuji or Kawamura...
There really wasn’t anyone else he was intere sted in seeing. While at Seigaku, his life had revolved around tennis.
He frowned a bit, hop ing that he would be able to excuse himself soon.
“Tezuka?”
A voice startled him, and he looked up, his shoulders tense until he recognized Ryuuzaki Sumire.
A smile almost pulled at his lips as he saw she was wearing a light sundress instead of her us ual tracksuit. He couldn’t ever remember seeing her out of the outfit.
The sight alone made coming tonight worth it.
“Hello, sensei,” he said.
“You don’t look like you’re having fun,” she said.
“I don’t like dancing,” he told her.
She laughed, a bray ing caw that should have been unpleasant, but something Tezuka liked. It was far more honest than the flirtatious giggles the girls threw at him. “That’s too bad. I was going to ask if I could have a dance with you.”
He almost gurgled. Every now and then, Ryuuzaki-sensei totally threw him off-balance. Still, Tezuka was known for his iron-control and he wasn’t about to appear surprised. “Certainly,” he replied calmly, holding out his hand.
She gave him a smile, and there was a light in her eyes as she stepped out onto the floor with him. “I’ll warn you, I like to lead.”
To his surprise, he found that she was easy to dance with. Holding her hand in his left hand, and gripping her waist firmly with the other, they moved in time perfectly, never missing a step.
“I’d like to thank you for your guidance, sensei,” Tezuka said, since the silence seemed to asked to be filled.
Her smile was quieter this time. “It’s bee n a pleasure,” she assured him. “Every now and then, I see players come through with rare talent - and a true love of the game. It’s students like you who make my job worthwhile.”
Her heartfelt compliment embarrassed him, and he hid it by changing the su bject. “Echizen will surpass me.”
“He may. Or he may not. He’s only as good as the people he chooses as his rivals,” she told him. “Going to England will make you very strong, Tezuka. You’ll enter the world stage by the time you’re eighteen. Japanese ten nis will finally return to where it should be, thanks to you.”
The thought terrified him. He had been the pillar of Seigaku, and the pressure had almost broken him. Now...
Ryuuzaki squeezed the hand she had on his shoulder. “How about you go to our tenn is courts, one last time?”
“I should stay here,” he told her reluctantly.
“You should g o there, and say goodbye. Tonight is a night about goodbyes to friends, and tennis was your best friend. I think the court deserves a proper farewell from Tezuka Kunimitsu.”
She stepped away from him as they neared the edge of the floor, merriment dancin g in her eyes. “All the girls are jealous of me now. You didn’t dance with any of them,” she said gloatingly.
He watched her wander off, wondering if she would ever acknowledge that she was old enough to be his grandmother.
The night air outside was col d and brisk. It was still too close to winter for him to be comfortable without a jacket, but he had left his inside.
The music from the dance was still audible, a f aint melody that seemed melancholy and distant. As he moved the familiar path to the ten nis court, another sound came upon him, the sound of tennis balls and racquets.
Hastening his footsteps, he turned the corner to see Kawamura and Fuji on the court, e ach battling other.
Both were wearing the formal suits they had worn to the dance, but Tezuka saw that they had ditched their ties and coats. Fuji had unbuttoned the top few buttons of his collar, but Kawamura hadn’t bothered.
Fuji prepared to serve, dropping the ball with a peculiar twist that Tezuka recognized. The ball moved slowly tow ards Kawamura before darting to the side.
“OH NO!” Kawamura bellowed.
“My game, Taka-chan.”
“Fujiko, play fair!”
“I’m not doing anything illegal,” Fuji returned.
“You’re sneaky,” Kawamura accused. He retrieved the ball; it was his turn to serve. “I’m BURNING!”
Tezuka watched them go at it, feeling a strange sense of longing. Kawamura wouldn’t be playing tennis in high school, and Fuji had decided to transfer in St. Rudolph’s. It would never be the same again.
“Finally here, Tezuka?” someone said fr om behind him.
He didn’t turn, but acknowledged Inui by nodding. “I didn’t know we were playing tonight.”
“Where else would we be?” Inui asked. “We spent all of our f ree time here, together. It’s logical that on our last night, we’d be here. It’s too b ad Echizen, Momoshiro and Kaidou can’t be here, but they’re underclassmen.”
Tezuka watched as Fuji and Kawamura bounded across the court, wearing dress shoes. “They sho uld change into proper equipment.”
“They aren’t playing seriously. Kawamura isn’t hi tting the ball with anything resembling his full strength, and Fuji isn’t stressing himself out.”
He heard a loud voice coming from over the side of the building. “Ne, n e... I know I saw Tezuka come this way!” he heard Kikumaru pipe.
Oishi’s response w as too quiet for him to hear, but Tezuka was willing to bet it wasn’t anywhere near as exasperated as most people would have been.
Second later, the last two third-year m embers showed up. Oishi blinked as he took in the scene, before smiling. “Are we going to play?”
“Let’s! One last game as the golden pair of Seigaku!” Kikumaru said, grabbing his double’s partner’s hand. “Inui... will you play us?”
Inui nodded. “Kawamur a! I need a partner!”
Tezuka had never seen Inui and Kawamura play together. The more logical choice would have been Fuji-Kawamura, but he felt something going on behind the scenes.
Kawamura let a ball go by him, turning to face Inui. “Yes! We’ll kick t heir butts!”
“No, you won’t!” Kikumaru said, before wilting a bit. “I took my ra cquet home already....”
“I had your sister drop it off,” Fuji called from across the court. He pointed to a pile of racquets, and Tezuka somehow wasn’t surprised that all of them were there.
Including his.
Fuji walked over to the pile before digging ou t one of them. He walked over to his captain, giving his friend his famous smile.
“May I have this dance?” Fuji asked, holding out Tezuka’s racquet to him.
Tezuka nodded at the one who had always been just behind him before taking the racquet, feeling a slight smile tug at his own lips. “One last game,” he said. “A goodbye.”
“It’s not goodbye,” said Fuji, and Tezuka saw that the tensai’s blue eyes had opened. “It’s ‘until later.’ We may never be the Seigaku tennis team again, but we’ll always have the memories... and that will keep us coming back to each other.”
/le
Author: Aishuu
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Type: Gen!
Pairing: Tezuki/Ryuuzaki Sumire... j/k! *dies laughing*
Rating: G
Note thingie: Combined with the temps_morts challenge - it's currently "May I have this Dance." Written in 54 minutes, so it's not the final that will be released on ff.net.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Too lazy to look up the proper disclaimer at the moment.
He didn’t do dances.
Tezuka wasn’t fond of school functions, finding them trying. Every time he went to one, girls seeking his company immediately swamped him.
It wasn’t his idea of fun.
There was no way out of this one, though.
It was the gr aduation dance, and it was his last chance to see Seigaku. While most of the others would be moving onto the associated high school, he would not.
He had chosen a different road.
It felt odd to be here, seeing his classmates for the last time. Many of t hem he would never see again - people whom he’d spent three years of his life with, destined to fade into the depths of his past.
Kikumaru was bouncing around the celebration, darting between the food table and teasing his classmates. He’d barely managed to keep the grades he needed to enter the high school, but Oishi and Inui had forced him to buc kle down and cram. Now Oishi was looking like he might regret it, as he grabbed his doubles partner by the collar and dragged him away from the punch bowl.
Te zuka was glad that Oishi had Kikumaru. It made him feel less guilty about accepting the scholar ship to the British School.
The music they were playing was loud due to the amplifiers, and Tezuka felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. He liked the o rchestra, but he wished they hadn’t felt the need to hook up the sound-system from hell to mak e sure the entire neighborhood could hear it. He didn’t like noise, and he couldn’t see Inui, Fuji or Kawamura...
There really wasn’t anyone else he was intere sted in seeing. While at Seigaku, his life had revolved around tennis.
He frowned a bit, hop ing that he would be able to excuse himself soon.
“Tezuka?”
A voice startled him, and he looked up, his shoulders tense until he recognized Ryuuzaki Sumire.
A smile almost pulled at his lips as he saw she was wearing a light sundress instead of her us ual tracksuit. He couldn’t ever remember seeing her out of the outfit.
The sight alone made coming tonight worth it.
“Hello, sensei,” he said.
“You don’t look like you’re having fun,” she said.
“I don’t like dancing,” he told her.
She laughed, a bray ing caw that should have been unpleasant, but something Tezuka liked. It was far more honest than the flirtatious giggles the girls threw at him. “That’s too bad. I was going to ask if I could have a dance with you.”
He almost gurgled. Every now and then, Ryuuzaki-sensei totally threw him off-balance. Still, Tezuka was known for his iron-control and he wasn’t about to appear surprised. “Certainly,” he replied calmly, holding out his hand.
She gave him a smile, and there was a light in her eyes as she stepped out onto the floor with him. “I’ll warn you, I like to lead.”
To his surprise, he found that she was easy to dance with. Holding her hand in his left hand, and gripping her waist firmly with the other, they moved in time perfectly, never missing a step.
“I’d like to thank you for your guidance, sensei,” Tezuka said, since the silence seemed to asked to be filled.
Her smile was quieter this time. “It’s bee n a pleasure,” she assured him. “Every now and then, I see players come through with rare talent - and a true love of the game. It’s students like you who make my job worthwhile.”
Her heartfelt compliment embarrassed him, and he hid it by changing the su bject. “Echizen will surpass me.”
“He may. Or he may not. He’s only as good as the people he chooses as his rivals,” she told him. “Going to England will make you very strong, Tezuka. You’ll enter the world stage by the time you’re eighteen. Japanese ten nis will finally return to where it should be, thanks to you.”
The thought terrified him. He had been the pillar of Seigaku, and the pressure had almost broken him. Now...
Ryuuzaki squeezed the hand she had on his shoulder. “How about you go to our tenn is courts, one last time?”
“I should stay here,” he told her reluctantly.
“You should g o there, and say goodbye. Tonight is a night about goodbyes to friends, and tennis was your best friend. I think the court deserves a proper farewell from Tezuka Kunimitsu.”
She stepped away from him as they neared the edge of the floor, merriment dancin g in her eyes. “All the girls are jealous of me now. You didn’t dance with any of them,” she said gloatingly.
He watched her wander off, wondering if she would ever acknowledge that she was old enough to be his grandmother.
The night air outside was col d and brisk. It was still too close to winter for him to be comfortable without a jacket, but he had left his inside.
The music from the dance was still audible, a f aint melody that seemed melancholy and distant. As he moved the familiar path to the ten nis court, another sound came upon him, the sound of tennis balls and racquets.
Hastening his footsteps, he turned the corner to see Kawamura and Fuji on the court, e ach battling other.
Both were wearing the formal suits they had worn to the dance, but Tezuka saw that they had ditched their ties and coats. Fuji had unbuttoned the top few buttons of his collar, but Kawamura hadn’t bothered.
Fuji prepared to serve, dropping the ball with a peculiar twist that Tezuka recognized. The ball moved slowly tow ards Kawamura before darting to the side.
“OH NO!” Kawamura bellowed.
“My game, Taka-chan.”
“Fujiko, play fair!”
“I’m not doing anything illegal,” Fuji returned.
“You’re sneaky,” Kawamura accused. He retrieved the ball; it was his turn to serve. “I’m BURNING!”
Tezuka watched them go at it, feeling a strange sense of longing. Kawamura wouldn’t be playing tennis in high school, and Fuji had decided to transfer in St. Rudolph’s. It would never be the same again.
“Finally here, Tezuka?” someone said fr om behind him.
He didn’t turn, but acknowledged Inui by nodding. “I didn’t know we were playing tonight.”
“Where else would we be?” Inui asked. “We spent all of our f ree time here, together. It’s logical that on our last night, we’d be here. It’s too b ad Echizen, Momoshiro and Kaidou can’t be here, but they’re underclassmen.”
Tezuka watched as Fuji and Kawamura bounded across the court, wearing dress shoes. “They sho uld change into proper equipment.”
“They aren’t playing seriously. Kawamura isn’t hi tting the ball with anything resembling his full strength, and Fuji isn’t stressing himself out.”
He heard a loud voice coming from over the side of the building. “Ne, n e... I know I saw Tezuka come this way!” he heard Kikumaru pipe.
Oishi’s response w as too quiet for him to hear, but Tezuka was willing to bet it wasn’t anywhere near as exasperated as most people would have been.
Second later, the last two third-year m embers showed up. Oishi blinked as he took in the scene, before smiling. “Are we going to play?”
“Let’s! One last game as the golden pair of Seigaku!” Kikumaru said, grabbing his double’s partner’s hand. “Inui... will you play us?”
Inui nodded. “Kawamur a! I need a partner!”
Tezuka had never seen Inui and Kawamura play together. The more logical choice would have been Fuji-Kawamura, but he felt something going on behind the scenes.
Kawamura let a ball go by him, turning to face Inui. “Yes! We’ll kick t heir butts!”
“No, you won’t!” Kikumaru said, before wilting a bit. “I took my ra cquet home already....”
“I had your sister drop it off,” Fuji called from across the court. He pointed to a pile of racquets, and Tezuka somehow wasn’t surprised that all of them were there.
Including his.
Fuji walked over to the pile before digging ou t one of them. He walked over to his captain, giving his friend his famous smile.
“May I have this dance?” Fuji asked, holding out Tezuka’s racquet to him.
Tezuka nodded at the one who had always been just behind him before taking the racquet, feeling a slight smile tug at his own lips. “One last game,” he said. “A goodbye.”
“It’s not goodbye,” said Fuji, and Tezuka saw that the tensai’s blue eyes had opened. “It’s ‘until later.’ We may never be the Seigaku tennis team again, but we’ll always have the memories... and that will keep us coming back to each other.”
/le