[Prince of Tennis] fic: He Never Knew part 5
Haha...ha. So I thought I would tackle the remaining themes with short drabbles, but there were some themes I really wanted to use for this fic. And then this happened. OTL (How am I going to finish like this? Only a few hours left...) This is not a short drabble. I wish I could have divided this one up into further parts, but it had to be one single part.
Title: He Never Knew part 5
Day/Theme: 8. Discombobulated people en masse
Series: Prince of Tennis
Character/Pairing: Echizen Ryoma, rival schools
Rating: PG
Words: 2,367
Notes: for 31days_exchange, 31_days masterlist. Er, some 2nd person POV sneaking into this? I have no idea anymore.
Previous Part
Part 5: That is Not Echizen Ryoma
There wasn't a single middle school tennis player who hadn't heard that Echizen Ryoma had lost his memories and along with that, his ability to play tennis. Many of them had even been present during that crippling match that had sent the used-to-be tennis wonder to his knees in front of the overwhelming presence that was Yukimura Seiichi. If they hadn't been present, they easily heard about it from others because this was Echizen Ryoma they were talking about, Seigaku's bratty first year that created waves no matter where he went.
If you listened carefully to Ibu Shinji, the first player Echizen Ryoma had ever played singles against in the official matches, you would find phrases like impertinent rookie, I bet this grip tape would spark his memory, ah but he's not impertinent anymore...that's an improvement, but no tennis...how boring sneaking into his mumblings to himself. Ibu would see things and remember the wide-eyed boy from Nationals that he had rallied against to help jog the boy's memory, but that boy was not Echizen Ryoma. Ibu had always complained about Echizen's rudeness to players older than him and had always been annoyed by Echizen's taunting play-style that was so like his infuriating personality, but that irritating Echizen Ryoma was the one Ibu wanted to play against once more, not the trembling boy whose racket had looked too big for his hands. He is still impertinent after all, going off and losing his memories of tennis like that... was Ibu's conclusion and the next topic for his mumblings.
The rest of Ibu's teammates at Fudoumine had also seen what Echizen Ryoma's amnesia had done to him. What a pity, Tachibana Kippei had said in response. But perhaps this will be the trigger for his rebirth. He spoke from experience, from the time when tennis had become too overwhelming for him and had forced him to change. Change he did, but ultimately, he did not run away - he could even say he was a better person for it, and for that he had his younger self to thank.
If you directed your attention to St. Rudolph and followed Fuji Yuuta, the first left-handed player (like himself) that Echizen Ryoma had gone up against in the matches, you would find him frowning and poking at his food, even at his favorite cakes and pies that he usually always devoured on the spot. That would be how Fuji Yuuta showed his confusion over Echizen's loss of memories and his ability to play tennis. Echizen Ryoma had helped Yuuta escape his urging need to defeat his brother once-and-for all so that he could emerge from his shadows. While Yuuta's complex about being compared with his brother still existed, it was Echizen Ryoma who had opened Yuuta's eyes to the world beyond his brother, and made it so that Yuuta no longer exploded in his brother's presence (in fact, he thought his brother was the best, but he'd rather die than tell his brother that). In the evenings, Yuuta would phone his brother and ask, hopeful for a breakthrough, but his brother would answer, No, he still refuses to come to tennis practice. A pause. He seems to be avoiding us. Yuuta would fall silent because even though he missed that confident and cocky southpaw that had pulled him out of his funk, his sense of loss was nothing compared to his brother's and the rest of Seigaku's. He would hear it clearly in his brother's quiet tone over the phone.
He should have come to us, Mizuki Hajime sometimes said after Yuuta got off the phone. We would not have let something like that happen to him. Mizuki had always wanted a talent like Echizen Ryoma for St. Rudolph. It was his opinion that clearly, Seigaku hadn't looked after their star player carefully enough. If Mizuki had been in charge, he would not have let something so outrageous happen to a budding tennis player. (Other people would not agree).
If you spied on Akutsu, the terrifying third-year tennis monster that had served rocks at Echizen Ryoma's teammates at Seigaku, that everyone had thought would slaughter Echizen Ryoma during their match with his violent nature, you would find him pausing at the sound of tennis even though he had "quit". He would throw his cigarette on the ground and snub it out, growling in frustration at his inability to block tennis out of his mind when the one who had challenged him in the first place had forgotten it completely. Tennis was an even worse addiction than nicotine, yet the person who had gotten him so thoroughly addicted no longer existed. That small, withdrawn boy who had stood before him at Nationals, who had cowered at the shots Akutsu had slammed at him to get him to remember, was not Echizen Ryoma, the player that Akutsu had wanted Dan Taichi to look up to as a model. There is no room for cowardice in your tennis, Akutsu would think. Who do you think you're masquerading as?
When Akutsu's teammates at Yamabuki began pleading for him to return and help with the club, Akutsu would actually show up from time-to-time as a demonstration that he wasn't running away, so Echizen Ryoma should not run away either. At the club, the topic of "Echizen Ryoma" sometimes came up, though they would quickly skirt around the name when Akutsu's shots became too furious for them to handle. On days when practice was slow, Dan Taichi, who aspired to one day become a tennis player like Echizen Ryoma (who despite being just as short as Dan, never once let that become a weakness), would wonder if it was okay for him to continue striving for "Echizen Ryoma" now that he was no longer the strong player Dan had known. Dan would breathe in deeply and throw himself back into practice. If that ideal no longer existed, then he would have to become the ideal himself and show Echizen Ryoma.
If you walked along the courts of Hyoutei and observed Hiyoshi Wakashi and Atobe Keigo's rally, a rally between a player who had experienced first-hand Echizen Ryoma's evolution into a player of his own rights, and a player who had battled with Echizen Ryoma until both of them had dropped in exhaustion after pushing their bodies to their limits, you would find them prodding and questioning each other through tennis, trying to put Echizen Ryoma behind them because that was Seigaku's problem, not theirs (but they would be unsuccessful). Gekokujou, Hiyoshi Wakashi would think as he sliced at the ball. Tennis is about overtaking those above you, players or not. This "amnesia". You better conquer this too. He would pant and tremble from the exertion his captain forced him to make, but he would think again and again that Echizen Ryoma had once said he was still game for another one hundred matches. You better not have been lying. Hiyoshi would continue playing and improving and overtaking those above him. He expected no less from Echizen Ryoma, or else he would not be worth his attention.
After the match, Atobe Keigo would wipe his sweat and think to himself that he already has his own budding tennis player to look after. He certainly didn't have time to be concerned about Echizen Ryoma, but he was (wasn't everyone?), especially since he had been on the scene as part of the search team that had gone to pick up Echizen Ryoma. When his helicopter had landed and the greeting had not been ehh, the Monkey King has personally come to pick me up? I'm flattered, he hadn't been worried (he had just felt a mild, nagging sensation), but now he was, because dammit, he had gone out of his way to pick up Echizen Ryoma, but who had he found instead? Someone who refused to play tennis, someone who would not be capable of returning hit after hit until Atobe could move no more. After practice, Oshitari Yuushi would fall into step with Atobe and wordlessly hand him a water bottle. He had been on that helicopter too.
If you made your way to Midoriyama to see Kiraku Yasuyuki, the second-year whose father used to be a tennis pro much like how Echizen Ryoma's father used to be a tennis pro, he would be shaking his head at his team and wondering if they had it in them to beat Seigaku next year, but would it even amount to anything if Echizen Ryoma were no longer on the team? Kiraku had been confident in his skills before Echizen Ryoma and he had thought himself good enough for his father to be proud of him, but Echizen Ryoma had come and shaken up his world. I thought both of us were going to surpass our fathers, he would think to himself while he watched his team. What happened to that? And what about "next time" that you promised?
Take a rest, Kiraku's teammates would tell him. Even if you push yourself past your limits, Echizen Ryoma won't know. Kiraku knew this, he did, but he still pushed himself, and from time to time, he would ask his father if he had heard anything from Echizen Nanjirou, the person that Echizen Ryoma had tried so hard to beat but had thrown to the wayside now that he no longer had his memories.
If you swung around Higa and went out of your way to visit Tanishi Kei, the strongest-hitting player Echizen Ryoma had played against, the most difficult player possible for Echizen's physical stature, you would find him running on the beach along with his teammates, angry at Echizen's loss of memories. You won last time, Tanishi would think to himself, But I would have won if we played again. Why did you have to forget? He knew he was chubby. He knew he had room to improve. He was nimble on his feet despite his size. He was strong with his shots because of his weight. If he could turn his excess fat into muscle, he could be even quicker, even stronger, and then Echizen would have no chance against him. When Echizen Ryoma had first stood in front of him across the net, Tanishi had found him laughable. How would such a short and skinny player ever be able to withstand his powerful shots? He had thought he proved his point when his serve had slammed Echizen Ryoma into the wall, but the boy was resilient and resourceful and frustratingly sneaky. When Echizen Ryoma had stood in front of him a second time, this time without his memories, he was no longer that resilient player who had climbed back up after getting slammed into the wall. He had looked every bit the short and skinny player he appeared to be, yet that was not Echizen Ryoma.
Higa's captain, one Kite Eishirou, would push up his glasses and shrug about Echizen. It is a pity, true, but it benefits us greatly. He would have liked to play against Echizen, to find out what other people saw in him, and while it was a pity that there might no longer be such a chance, he also couldn't deny that with Echizen Ryoma out of the picture, Higa would have a much better chance at the championship next year. Whether or not he regains his memory, Kite would tell his team, we practice. (And then perhaps the team next year would be able to help him take revenge on Seigaku that had so utterly dominated them during Nationals. Revenge would be sweeter, of course, if Echizen Ryoma were there).
If you took a hike to Shitenhouji, you wouldn't even need to approach the tennis club before hearing loud clamoring from Tooyama Kintarou, the first year who had been scheduled to play against Echizen Ryoma but who hadn't been able to because their team match had ended before they could play. If Echizen were the super rookie of the Kantou region, then Kintarou was the super rookie of the Kansai region. They had been a pair of sorts, and Kintarou had wanted to find out what his counterpart was like, but now he was alone in his title of super rookie, and they would never have the chance to play. Let go of me, Shiraishi! Kintarou would yell when his captain would forbade him to run all the way to Seigaku to find Echizen hours and hours away. Koshimae can't have forgotten just like that! Kintarou was convinced that if only he could exchange one more shot with Echizen, then maybe he would remember and recall that one exciting rally they had exchanged - a mere one point, much too little to satisfy Kintarou especially now that he knew that might have been their last. But no matter how much Kintarou protested, Shiraishi would not let him go.
Shitenhouji gave their condolences to Seigaku. If something like that ever happened to our own rookie, I'm not sure how we would deal. They would look at Kintarou, who would be sulking from not being able to go to Tokyo, and think that they could not imagine Kintarou without tennis. They would never want Kintarou to stop playing. He had so much potential, so much room to grow.
Rokkaku was not unaffected by Echizen Ryoma's predicament, but none of them had personally played against Echizen Ryoma. They were good friends with Seigaku, however, and kept in touch to see how things were going. Saeki Kojirou would sometimes contact Fuji Shuusuke (he sure got called a lot), though they more often than not talked about other matters instead. It was simply easier for everyone involved.
If you stopped by Rikkaidai and Seigaku, you would find yourself surrounded by too many affected players to count. Out of all the schools and all the players, they had been affected the most, one team for being the ones who had a hand in Echizen Ryoma discarding his racket, the other for being the closest to Echizen Ryoma, almost like a family, though they were not guiltless either.
-----
At Rikkaidai, Sanada stood in front of Yukimura and stared him down.
-----
to be continued
Title: He Never Knew part 5
Day/Theme: 8. Discombobulated people en masse
Series: Prince of Tennis
Character/Pairing: Echizen Ryoma, rival schools
Rating: PG
Words: 2,367
Notes: for 31days_exchange, 31_days masterlist. Er, some 2nd person POV sneaking into this? I have no idea anymore.
Previous Part
Part 5: That is Not Echizen Ryoma
There wasn't a single middle school tennis player who hadn't heard that Echizen Ryoma had lost his memories and along with that, his ability to play tennis. Many of them had even been present during that crippling match that had sent the used-to-be tennis wonder to his knees in front of the overwhelming presence that was Yukimura Seiichi. If they hadn't been present, they easily heard about it from others because this was Echizen Ryoma they were talking about, Seigaku's bratty first year that created waves no matter where he went.
If you listened carefully to Ibu Shinji, the first player Echizen Ryoma had ever played singles against in the official matches, you would find phrases like impertinent rookie, I bet this grip tape would spark his memory, ah but he's not impertinent anymore...that's an improvement, but no tennis...how boring sneaking into his mumblings to himself. Ibu would see things and remember the wide-eyed boy from Nationals that he had rallied against to help jog the boy's memory, but that boy was not Echizen Ryoma. Ibu had always complained about Echizen's rudeness to players older than him and had always been annoyed by Echizen's taunting play-style that was so like his infuriating personality, but that irritating Echizen Ryoma was the one Ibu wanted to play against once more, not the trembling boy whose racket had looked too big for his hands. He is still impertinent after all, going off and losing his memories of tennis like that... was Ibu's conclusion and the next topic for his mumblings.
The rest of Ibu's teammates at Fudoumine had also seen what Echizen Ryoma's amnesia had done to him. What a pity, Tachibana Kippei had said in response. But perhaps this will be the trigger for his rebirth. He spoke from experience, from the time when tennis had become too overwhelming for him and had forced him to change. Change he did, but ultimately, he did not run away - he could even say he was a better person for it, and for that he had his younger self to thank.
If you directed your attention to St. Rudolph and followed Fuji Yuuta, the first left-handed player (like himself) that Echizen Ryoma had gone up against in the matches, you would find him frowning and poking at his food, even at his favorite cakes and pies that he usually always devoured on the spot. That would be how Fuji Yuuta showed his confusion over Echizen's loss of memories and his ability to play tennis. Echizen Ryoma had helped Yuuta escape his urging need to defeat his brother once-and-for all so that he could emerge from his shadows. While Yuuta's complex about being compared with his brother still existed, it was Echizen Ryoma who had opened Yuuta's eyes to the world beyond his brother, and made it so that Yuuta no longer exploded in his brother's presence (in fact, he thought his brother was the best, but he'd rather die than tell his brother that). In the evenings, Yuuta would phone his brother and ask, hopeful for a breakthrough, but his brother would answer, No, he still refuses to come to tennis practice. A pause. He seems to be avoiding us. Yuuta would fall silent because even though he missed that confident and cocky southpaw that had pulled him out of his funk, his sense of loss was nothing compared to his brother's and the rest of Seigaku's. He would hear it clearly in his brother's quiet tone over the phone.
He should have come to us, Mizuki Hajime sometimes said after Yuuta got off the phone. We would not have let something like that happen to him. Mizuki had always wanted a talent like Echizen Ryoma for St. Rudolph. It was his opinion that clearly, Seigaku hadn't looked after their star player carefully enough. If Mizuki had been in charge, he would not have let something so outrageous happen to a budding tennis player. (Other people would not agree).
If you spied on Akutsu, the terrifying third-year tennis monster that had served rocks at Echizen Ryoma's teammates at Seigaku, that everyone had thought would slaughter Echizen Ryoma during their match with his violent nature, you would find him pausing at the sound of tennis even though he had "quit". He would throw his cigarette on the ground and snub it out, growling in frustration at his inability to block tennis out of his mind when the one who had challenged him in the first place had forgotten it completely. Tennis was an even worse addiction than nicotine, yet the person who had gotten him so thoroughly addicted no longer existed. That small, withdrawn boy who had stood before him at Nationals, who had cowered at the shots Akutsu had slammed at him to get him to remember, was not Echizen Ryoma, the player that Akutsu had wanted Dan Taichi to look up to as a model. There is no room for cowardice in your tennis, Akutsu would think. Who do you think you're masquerading as?
When Akutsu's teammates at Yamabuki began pleading for him to return and help with the club, Akutsu would actually show up from time-to-time as a demonstration that he wasn't running away, so Echizen Ryoma should not run away either. At the club, the topic of "Echizen Ryoma" sometimes came up, though they would quickly skirt around the name when Akutsu's shots became too furious for them to handle. On days when practice was slow, Dan Taichi, who aspired to one day become a tennis player like Echizen Ryoma (who despite being just as short as Dan, never once let that become a weakness), would wonder if it was okay for him to continue striving for "Echizen Ryoma" now that he was no longer the strong player Dan had known. Dan would breathe in deeply and throw himself back into practice. If that ideal no longer existed, then he would have to become the ideal himself and show Echizen Ryoma.
If you walked along the courts of Hyoutei and observed Hiyoshi Wakashi and Atobe Keigo's rally, a rally between a player who had experienced first-hand Echizen Ryoma's evolution into a player of his own rights, and a player who had battled with Echizen Ryoma until both of them had dropped in exhaustion after pushing their bodies to their limits, you would find them prodding and questioning each other through tennis, trying to put Echizen Ryoma behind them because that was Seigaku's problem, not theirs (but they would be unsuccessful). Gekokujou, Hiyoshi Wakashi would think as he sliced at the ball. Tennis is about overtaking those above you, players or not. This "amnesia". You better conquer this too. He would pant and tremble from the exertion his captain forced him to make, but he would think again and again that Echizen Ryoma had once said he was still game for another one hundred matches. You better not have been lying. Hiyoshi would continue playing and improving and overtaking those above him. He expected no less from Echizen Ryoma, or else he would not be worth his attention.
After the match, Atobe Keigo would wipe his sweat and think to himself that he already has his own budding tennis player to look after. He certainly didn't have time to be concerned about Echizen Ryoma, but he was (wasn't everyone?), especially since he had been on the scene as part of the search team that had gone to pick up Echizen Ryoma. When his helicopter had landed and the greeting had not been ehh, the Monkey King has personally come to pick me up? I'm flattered, he hadn't been worried (he had just felt a mild, nagging sensation), but now he was, because dammit, he had gone out of his way to pick up Echizen Ryoma, but who had he found instead? Someone who refused to play tennis, someone who would not be capable of returning hit after hit until Atobe could move no more. After practice, Oshitari Yuushi would fall into step with Atobe and wordlessly hand him a water bottle. He had been on that helicopter too.
If you made your way to Midoriyama to see Kiraku Yasuyuki, the second-year whose father used to be a tennis pro much like how Echizen Ryoma's father used to be a tennis pro, he would be shaking his head at his team and wondering if they had it in them to beat Seigaku next year, but would it even amount to anything if Echizen Ryoma were no longer on the team? Kiraku had been confident in his skills before Echizen Ryoma and he had thought himself good enough for his father to be proud of him, but Echizen Ryoma had come and shaken up his world. I thought both of us were going to surpass our fathers, he would think to himself while he watched his team. What happened to that? And what about "next time" that you promised?
Take a rest, Kiraku's teammates would tell him. Even if you push yourself past your limits, Echizen Ryoma won't know. Kiraku knew this, he did, but he still pushed himself, and from time to time, he would ask his father if he had heard anything from Echizen Nanjirou, the person that Echizen Ryoma had tried so hard to beat but had thrown to the wayside now that he no longer had his memories.
If you swung around Higa and went out of your way to visit Tanishi Kei, the strongest-hitting player Echizen Ryoma had played against, the most difficult player possible for Echizen's physical stature, you would find him running on the beach along with his teammates, angry at Echizen's loss of memories. You won last time, Tanishi would think to himself, But I would have won if we played again. Why did you have to forget? He knew he was chubby. He knew he had room to improve. He was nimble on his feet despite his size. He was strong with his shots because of his weight. If he could turn his excess fat into muscle, he could be even quicker, even stronger, and then Echizen would have no chance against him. When Echizen Ryoma had first stood in front of him across the net, Tanishi had found him laughable. How would such a short and skinny player ever be able to withstand his powerful shots? He had thought he proved his point when his serve had slammed Echizen Ryoma into the wall, but the boy was resilient and resourceful and frustratingly sneaky. When Echizen Ryoma had stood in front of him a second time, this time without his memories, he was no longer that resilient player who had climbed back up after getting slammed into the wall. He had looked every bit the short and skinny player he appeared to be, yet that was not Echizen Ryoma.
Higa's captain, one Kite Eishirou, would push up his glasses and shrug about Echizen. It is a pity, true, but it benefits us greatly. He would have liked to play against Echizen, to find out what other people saw in him, and while it was a pity that there might no longer be such a chance, he also couldn't deny that with Echizen Ryoma out of the picture, Higa would have a much better chance at the championship next year. Whether or not he regains his memory, Kite would tell his team, we practice. (And then perhaps the team next year would be able to help him take revenge on Seigaku that had so utterly dominated them during Nationals. Revenge would be sweeter, of course, if Echizen Ryoma were there).
If you took a hike to Shitenhouji, you wouldn't even need to approach the tennis club before hearing loud clamoring from Tooyama Kintarou, the first year who had been scheduled to play against Echizen Ryoma but who hadn't been able to because their team match had ended before they could play. If Echizen were the super rookie of the Kantou region, then Kintarou was the super rookie of the Kansai region. They had been a pair of sorts, and Kintarou had wanted to find out what his counterpart was like, but now he was alone in his title of super rookie, and they would never have the chance to play. Let go of me, Shiraishi! Kintarou would yell when his captain would forbade him to run all the way to Seigaku to find Echizen hours and hours away. Koshimae can't have forgotten just like that! Kintarou was convinced that if only he could exchange one more shot with Echizen, then maybe he would remember and recall that one exciting rally they had exchanged - a mere one point, much too little to satisfy Kintarou especially now that he knew that might have been their last. But no matter how much Kintarou protested, Shiraishi would not let him go.
Shitenhouji gave their condolences to Seigaku. If something like that ever happened to our own rookie, I'm not sure how we would deal. They would look at Kintarou, who would be sulking from not being able to go to Tokyo, and think that they could not imagine Kintarou without tennis. They would never want Kintarou to stop playing. He had so much potential, so much room to grow.
Rokkaku was not unaffected by Echizen Ryoma's predicament, but none of them had personally played against Echizen Ryoma. They were good friends with Seigaku, however, and kept in touch to see how things were going. Saeki Kojirou would sometimes contact Fuji Shuusuke (he sure got called a lot), though they more often than not talked about other matters instead. It was simply easier for everyone involved.
If you stopped by Rikkaidai and Seigaku, you would find yourself surrounded by too many affected players to count. Out of all the schools and all the players, they had been affected the most, one team for being the ones who had a hand in Echizen Ryoma discarding his racket, the other for being the closest to Echizen Ryoma, almost like a family, though they were not guiltless either.
-----
At Rikkaidai, Sanada stood in front of Yukimura and stared him down.
-----
to be continued