chineseathena

[fanfiction] Katsu no wa Hyoutei

2007-09-17T01:26:27Z

This was actually my first PoT fic. I posted it on ff.net and then kind of forgot about it. ^^;;

Title: Katsu no wa Hyoutei
Rating: G
Characters: Hyoutei regulars
Pairings: None, although you may see some AtoShi or Silver Pair if you try reeeaaally hard.
Summary: Following the long-awaited re-match against Seigaku, Atobe has a few words for his team.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or schools from the Prince of Tennis.
Note: May contain spoilers.

The bus was silent.

Well, no, it wasn’t, not really. Sakaki was talking softly into his cell phone. Mukahi was muttering something to Oshitari. Even Jirou, unusually calm for his state of consciousness, was speaking to an as-usual unresponsive Kabaji.

So maybe the silence was only in Shishido’s head…but somehow, the bus felt silent.

Sakaki muttered something into the phone and then snapped it shut. He turned to Atobe, who was sitting in the seat across the aisle from him—as per usual, the two of them had taken the very front seats. “Atobe, are you feeling better?”

Instead of directly answering the music teacher, Atobe asked, “Kantoku, the bus may leave now, but before you say anything I would like to address the regulars.”

Sakaki nodded first to the buchou and then to the bus driver. The driver picked up a small radio and spoke into it, informing the buses carrying the non-regular members of the team that they were departing.

As the bus began to back out of its parking space, Atobe slowly rose from him seat, his jersey draped over his shoulders, same as ever. But he looked different. He looked tired. Maybe it was the effect of the brisk “haircut” that Echizen brat had given him after their match. How the kid had managed it was beyond Shishido; just watching the match had exhausted him. But maybe, now that his hair had been roughly cropped short, lacking the “wings” that had always flipped out just at ear-level, Atobe had somehow lost his usual luster.

But that was not the case, he knew. Atobe could be stripped, shaved, and painted lime green and still have that same noble air as always.

Now, something was definitely off. It wasn’t that Atobe was exhausted. Yes, he had only just recovered from losing consciousness at the end of the match, but mere physical wear had no effect on his natural charisma. There was something else…something internal and deeply important…

“Regulars,” Atobe began, looking each of them in the eye. For once, Shishido had to fight the urge to look away from his buchou’s piercing gaze. “I wish to address you all. But before I do, allow me to make one thing clear. When I speak to you, I speak not as Atobe Keigo, who stands at the top of Hyoutei’s 200-member tennis team.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again. When he spoke again, his voice had somehow lost that self-important ring that Shishido had gotten so accustomed to hearing. Although no one spoke, Shishido could feel surprise sweep through the bus as Atobe continued, “I speak only as your buchou. Your teammate.”

Teammate, Shishido silently repeated, listening as the word seemed to echo through the bus. Other than that rush of traffic outside, the bus truly was silent.

“Hyoutei Gakuen has always been known for its formidable tennis team. And we knew it. We were proud of it. We entered the tournaments this year believing that this was our year. That this year, we deserved to win. That this year, no one would steal our victory. And what happened? We underestimated our opponents. We made a fatal mistake, and it cost us our first chance at the championship. We lost to a dark horse team.”

Everyone flinched at the memory of that humiliating match against Fudoumine Chuu. That had been a rude awakening to the true strength of this year’s competitors. Atobe adjusted the jersey on his shoulders. “Fortunately, we had a second chance, and we took it. We fought hard in the consolation matches and won what we believed was our rightful place in the Kantou Tournament.”

“What then? This time, we knew better that to take our strength for granted. We trained and became strong”—Shishido could have sworn that he saw Atobe’s eyes flick in his direction—“and, when the time came, sent only our best.”

They all knew what came next. “But our best…lost.” Atobe’s voice was surprisingly gentle as he recollected their loss to Seigaku, as if he were trying to reassure his teammates. “Why? We did not underestimate Seigaku’s tennis skill. What we did not see and did not prepare for was Seigaku’s sheer drive to win. Not because they ‘deserved’ it, as we believed of ourselves. But because they wanted it and worked for it.”

He smiled grimly. “But why did that matter to us? We had lost our chance in the first round at the Kantou tournament. So early in the season…we were done.”

“But we weren’t. Not really,” Jirou breathed, watching his buchou with wide eyes. Somehow, Atobe’s speech had become a fascinating, painful story that fiercely gripped the regulars’ attention. It didn’t matter that they knew the whole story already. They couldn’t wait to hear more, to find out what would happen next…

Atobe nodded at Jirou. “We weren’t done. By some…miracle, some whim of the gods, we were invited to the Nationals Tournament. Just when we had abandoned all hope, we received a third chance! And this time, we would not let it go to waste. We trained. You remember how hard we trained. Hours, days, weeks, eating, sleeping, breathing tennis and a new determination to win. This time, we knew we didn’t ‘deserve’ the championship. We had to earn it. And we labored and sweated and swore to ourselves that we would earn the championship and avenge ourselves against the school that had taken away what we had thought was our last chance.”

There was a long, meaningful pause. Atobe said softly, “Right now, we still remember it in painful detail. We started out with one win. Then one win, one loss. One win, two losses. Two wins, two losses.”

The buchou swallowed. “Two wins, three losses. And with that…our true last chance was gone. This year…the championship will not go to Hyoutei Gakuen.”

He looked down. Silence settled over the bus like a thick, suffocating blanket. Hours seemed to pass before Atobe slowly lifted his head and half-whispered, “The regular members of Hyoutei—the eight people who have fought and battled their way beyond 192 others—these eight people standing at the head of the Hyoutei’s renowned tennis team…lost.”

Shishido felt his gut clench with guilt and shame, which were quickly followed by anger. What the hell was Atobe trying to accomplish by telling them all this?

But before he could his mouth to question Atobe, to yell at him, or maybe just curse at him, the buchou held up his hand. “But we did not lose because we are weak.”

Somehow, his tone of voice cooled Shishido’s anger and brought back that magical storyteller’s aura. “We are strong. Both our playing and our resolve were strong. But our opponents were stronger.”

He cocked his head slightly and stared into space for a moment, saying almost contemplatively, “That is the law of Hyoutei, is it not? Only the strong survive? It is a brutal law, as you all know”—again, Atobe’s gaze seemed to veer for briefest of moments in Shishido’s direction—“but that is what makes our tennis team so powerful.”

“Now, by this law,” he resumed, resting his elbows on the back of the bus seat, “it is only reasonable that that the strongest tennis team should take the championship. And this year, we were not the strongest.”

“But next year…is another season.”

Shishido drew in a quick breath. Don’t tell me he’s been aiming for this the whole time…

Atobe’s eyes suddenly sharpened, and he looked briskly around the bus, his eyes lingering for an instant on the second-years: Kabaji, with his amazing imitation capabilities; Choutarou, with his inhumanly fast serve; and Hiyoshi, the boy Atobe and Sakaki had hand-selected to lead Hyoutei the coming year.

“Five of us will graduate this year. But you second-years will not. You three will remain. And next year, you three will remember the humiliation we suffered when we underestimated our opponents. You will remember the strength of Seigaku’s simple, powerful desire to win. And you will remember the pain we suffer now from losing our third and final chance at victory. You will remember…and next year, you will win.”

Shishido finally managed to tear his eyes away from his buchou to look around the bus. Everyone looked awestruck. But it was the second-years that Shishido really noticed. Kabaji watched Atobe with a focus that normally only appeared in the middle of a tennis match. Hiyoshi’s fists were clenched tightly on top of the bus seat. And Choutarou…shy, hesitant Choutarou was sitting straighter than Shishido had thought him capable of, biting his lower lip and avidly watching Atobe. They all looked…what was the word…

Inspired.

Atobe turned to Kabaji. “You will soon be a third year,” he said firmly. “You will be a sempai. A leader. People will look to you for direction now. You must be ready to take charge.”

Next, he turned to Choutarou. “Ootori, this past year Shishido has taught you how to control your Scud Serve. More importantly, he has taught you more about confidence and willpower than anyone else on the regulars could. It will soon be your turn to pass that on to others.”

Atobe then locked eyes with Hiyoshi, that quiet, strange boy on whose shoulders rested the fate of Hyoutei’s 200-man tennis team. They simply stared at each other for a long moment. And then Shishido almost physically felt something shift. “I’m counting on you, Hiyoshi,” Atobe finally said, and with that, that shift was complete. The team now belonged to Hiyoshi.

But the former buchou had a few more words to say before he sat back down, more exhausted than he had let on to his team. “Remember, we are strong. We deserve victory, not simply because we are Hyoutei Gakuen, but because we want it.” Some of his usual imperiousness returned as he raised one hand into the air and snapped. “Katsu no wa…!”

They had shouted that same cheer for so long that the response was automatic. But for the first time in a long time, Shishido truly believed as he shouted with the rest of team, “HYOUTEI!”

(end)

Buchou: captain
Kantoku: coach
Sempai: upperclassman
Regulars: not actually Japanese, obviously, but this is the same as the “starters” in the English manga (and possible English anime)
Katsu no wa: “The winner will be…”

[fanfiction] New Generation

2007-09-06T06:05:30Z

My very first post! Yoroshiku onegaishimasu!

Title: New Generation
Rating: G
Pairings: None
Summary: Two years later, Inoue Mamoru writes in his column "The Future of Tennis."
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or schools from the Prince of Tennis, nor do I have anything to do with Kamakari Kenta or Ono Kento. I just wanted to throw their names in. =P

Gekkan Pro Tennis

The Future of Tennis
By Inoue Mamoru

In the world of junior-high boy's tennis, the Kantou Tournament has once again come to an end. Every year, sixteen tennis teams gather to compete for the Kantou Championship and for the coveted four tickets to the Nationals Tournament. The line-up for this year's representatives of the Kantou region will hardly surprise anyone who has been following our extraordinary junior high teams' battles for the highest honor they can win: the National Championship.

The third runner-up to the championship is Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku Chuu, a formidable opponent as always. However, there are whispers that Rikkaidai may have lost its edge after the graduation of last year’s captain, Kirihara Akaya-kun—the last of the “Golden Generation” that played under the leadership of Yukimura Seiichi-kun two years ago. In response to these claims, captain Ono Kento-kun states to Gekkan Pro Tennis, “The greatest players in the history of our school have graduated, it’s true. However, what we may lack in skill, we make up for in determination. Rikkaidai will not lose!” This reporter looks forward to seeing this fighting spirit carry Rikkaidai forward through the Nationals Tournament.

Defeating Rikkaidai 3-2 for the position of second-runner up is Yamabuki Chuu, led by the spirited Dan Taichi-kun. Pressing forward with their coach’s shrewd tactics and their captain’s enthusiasm, they have progressed farther than their team has ever advanced in the past three years. When asked for a comment, the good-natured Dan-kun replied, “We at Yamabuki have been working hard to move up the ranks and prove that we are worthy of the National Championship! There are many strong teams waiting for us at Nationals, so cheer for us! We will not disappoint you!”

The first runner-up, the celebrated Hyoutei Gakuen, has lost yet another battle in its now famed rivalry with the Kantou champion team. However, the players’ fighting spirit has not flagged at all. Captain Kamakari Kenta-kun paused on the way from the court to the bus to give this statement to reporters: “This is the fifth time in a row that we have lost to these same opponents. But do not take this to mean that this is a meaningless battle we fight. We will continue to win so we can face the champions again on the Nationals court. A fight is not lost until one gives up, and Hyoutei Gakuen will never give up!” After issuing this challenge to the champions, Kamakari-kun hurried to join his teammates on the bus to return to Hyoutei. Once there, they will review the matches and then restart the rigorous practices that have made Hyoutei such a formidable team in the past. Perhaps this intense dedication will carry Hyoutei to the National Championship this year.

To anyone with any knowledge of boys’ junior-high tennis in the past two years, it will be no surprise to hear that Seishun Gakuen has taken the Kantou Championship for the third year in a row. After years of absence from the Nationals Tournament, the leadership of Tezuka Kunimitsu-kun took Seigaku all the way to the Championship two years ago. Last year, the explosive power and enthusiasm of team captain Momoshiro Takeshi-kun brought Seigaku to yet another victory. This proved a shock to those who had predicted that the graduation of prodigies Tezuka-kun and Fuji Syuusuke-kun, as well as the famed “Golden Pair”—Oishi Shuichiro-kun and Kikumaru Eiji-kun—, would cripple the team. But now, with Echizen Ryoma-kun, son of the famed “Samurai Nanjirou,” leading the team, it is hardly a surprise that Seigaku has taken the Kantou Championship once again.

In the most heated match we have seen this year, Hyoutei Gakuen took the lead with a victory in Doubles 2. Seigaku then won Doubles 1 and Singles 3. The match took a surprising turn when Seigaku lost Singles 2, but the championship was decided the moment Echizen-kun stepped onto the court. Singles 1 was drawn out to a 73-71 tie-break, with Echizen-kun taking the final point with his notorious Cool Drive, a technique he has treasured and improved upon for the past two years. Will the tightly knit Seigaku tennis team and Echizen-kun’s unmatched tennis skill be enough to take Seigaku all the way to the top? When asked to comment, Echizen-kun, exhausted but as unflappable as ever, stated, “As a sempai of mine once said, we came here to win. Every person on this team will fight down to the very last point, no matter how hopeless the game may seem. That is Seigaku’s strength. Let’s see if this year’s opponents can match it.”

Even though the Nationals Tournament has not yet begun, it seems that the courts are already alive with fighting spirit! This reporter hopes to see these incredible young men face worthy opponents in their upcoming matches. Please continue to follow the progress of these still-young players! They are already strong and have the infinite potential to grow in the coming years. Perhaps in a few years, we will be seeing their names, not in the “Future of Tennis” column, but rather in Gekkan Pro Tennis’s feature articles, making their mark in the world of professional tennis.

(end)