Echizen Ryoma leaped high into the air, brought his racket forward. He felt every muscle in his arm tighten and he forced every single ounce of his strength that he had left into that smash. Seeing that his opponent had a deathly way of handling smashes, Ryoma made sure that the ball brushed the net before continuing it's journey. And as the racket came into contact with the ball, he followed through, and the ball hit the net ever so lightly, and sailed towards the opponents court. The opponent carried out his deathly move, and the ball was soon flying high over Ryoma's head. But Ryoma wasn't watching the ball. He was silently praying.

"Out!" came the umpire's call.

Ryoma let out a sigh so huge, the whole stadium would have heard it. And

That was it, Echizen Ryoma had just won Wimbledon. World ranking #1. He stared into the crowd and saw his oyaji sort-of-smirking-sort-of-grinning face. Then he tugged his cap lower and moved towards the net.

"Mada mada dane." Came his trademark catchphrase, and he reached out to shake hands with his opponent.

"I always knew you would defeat me one day."

Fuji Shuusuke stared down at his opponent, his own kouhai in junior high, eyes wide open, serious.

"Mada mada dane." Fuji saw the words smoothly roll from Ryoma's tongue, and he shook hands with him.

"I always knew you would defeat me one day." Fuji commented. Ryoma raised his head and saw that Fuji's serious face had now turned into a smiling, contented one. Eyes closed, mouth curled up at the corners.

"You're not so bad yourself, Fuji-senpai." Ryoma replied. How come Fuji had decided to take tennis as a career, no one knew. But it didn't matter. Ryoma had won Wimbledon. Again he looked toward the crowd. He saw his Buchou, who gave him a firm nod. Tezuka resigned as a pro player after winning Wimbledon. The rest of that page was for Ryoma to fill up. Ryoma saw all his senpai's from junior high. Eiji was bouncing happily, but somehow a bit of that spark was gone. Probably because Fuji WAS his best friend and had lost. Oishi was smiling happily, Momo was crazy. Momo was grabbing Eiji by the neck and screaming for joy. Kaidoh and Inui were simply… staring. Then he saw her.

"Sakuno." He heard himself say. And it seemed that Fuji heard it too.

"Saa… You still like her?"

"I never said that."

"Ryoma, you're only 17 and you just won Wimbledon, dammnit! It's not been THAT long since you last saw her! And you think about her, right? Go do something! It's tiring you know, watching you scan the crowd just to find her, and when you do you don't do anything!" The tensai argued. "She's been supporting you all this while, give her something back, eh?"

The two top players in the world walked back together to the changing room. While being surrounded by photographers and reporters on the way, Ryoma turned to see Sakuno leave. His heart sank and his feet began to feel heavy. But he ignored it, just like every other time. He never really talked to her since junior high, but was always watching her. Not that he didn't want to, he didn't know how. But now his Senpai was here to give him advice. Not that he was sure he wanted to follow it. But in desperation, he followed Fuji into the changing room and sat very silent.

Fuji pulled a shirt from his locker and took off his sweaty one.

"Ryoma, just go up to her and start a decent conversation. Pretend you didn't know she was here. Kind of like a… hey-what're-you-doing-here-oh-you're-here-to-watch-me-play? Kind of conversation. Don't be too distracted, but don't seem so focused either. CASUAL! Yes, that's the word. Be casual."

Ryoma was too distracted to say anything. Why was she here? Didn't she give up, just like she said? This was too difficult to figure out.

Flashback

"Ryoma. I give up. I really really like you. But you always seem so distant, so ignorant. Why waste my time, right? Right. But I just wanted to let you know that although I give up now, I will never forget you. Ever. And you should also know, before you go breaking any more hearts, that even though you may take pleasure in it, to girls, it hurts a hell lot. And that's what I feel now, telling you all this." Sakuno said in one breath.

Ryoma thought he had never heard he speak so many sentences without stammering once. But suddenly Sakuno's firm, brave face returned to her shy and fragile look, as she began to say, "I-I mean e-everything, r-ryoma-kun." Then as if realizing her stupidity, she turned and walked away, scolding herself along with something like, 'I really wish I were dead right now.'

Ryoma watched her leave. Don't you know it hurts me too, Sakuno? Everytime I see you I don't know what to do. And it hurts me so much that I, buchou of Seigaku Tennis Club, simply cannot get you. I can get any girl I want, but somehow I can't get you. His heart felt like it burst into millions of smithereens. He turned, and he too walked away, from what could have been something good.

And so, soon enough, for the rest of his life at junior high, Sakuno never existed. No more Sakuno watching his tennis practice, no more Sakuno cheering him at his games, no more Sakuno, ever. She had faded away, and he remembered nothing of her until his first game as a pro player. She was watching. But he didn't do anything.

End flashback

Just like now, how he wasn't doing anything.

"That's all I can help you with. I've got to go. Got another match soon. I'm flying to idontknowwhere to win something else. Take my advice, alright?" Fuji picked up his bag and walked towards where his manager was standing. Ryoma looked up to see his senpai's eyes open, sincere. Ryoma nodded.

"Fuji, we need to go now. You're scheduled for an interview with some reporters…" Fuji's manager continued.

"Shut up! I hate your constant mumblings… Why the hell did I even hire you…" Ryoma heard Fuji complain. Then he remembered why he never hired a manager. Because of that. He picked up his tennis bag too, and walked out of the room to come face to face with around ten thousand flashes and about ten times more noise. He pulled his cap lower and forced his way through the crowd. Making sure that no one recognized him, he made his way to the main street and caught a cab.

"Where to, sir?"

"Hilton hotel."

"Are you… Echizen Ryoma?" Ryoma froze. Looks like the making sure no one recognized him thing didn't work. Then he turned desperately to his father's technique.

"Uhh… Me no Ryoma. Ryoma not me." Surprised at his customer's sudden accent change, the taxi driver ignored it and drove. Upon reaching the hotel, Ryoma forgot that he was in the US, and mouthed a "Arigato" to the taxi driver.

"what?"

"Uh. Nothing. Sorry. Thanks." Ryoma shut the door and walked towards the hotel's gleaming glass doors. But standing before him was someone. And that someone had changed. And that someone was refusing to let him pass until that someone finished what that someone had to say

HMM. My first POT fanfic, R&R PLEASE!

Did out of random boredness, but might continue. (:

And disclaimer! I forgot to put it up there: POT IS NOT MINE. But I wish it was…