Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

Look for the Finding Nemo reference.

-Skyla Ladona

Why Fuji isn't a Leader

ooo

"Neh? Why hasn't Fuji ever been selected for vice captain?"

The Seigaku regulars looked up at Ryoma. They were all in the changing room, preparing for classes after and early morning practice. Tezuka and Oishi were both presently absent. They were having a meeting with Ryuzaki-sensei. Fuji was absent as well. That morning the tensai had been a strange hurry. Normally carefree and careful, the lover of cacti and meditation music had been the first to walk (rather quickly) into the changing room and proceeded to throw all his tennis clothes off. He literally jumped into his black school uniform, hopping to get his pants on. Before the regulars were even able to set down their bags, Fuji had walked out, grabbing his bag to go to class.

The regulars thought about Ryoma's question quietly and looked at one another, curious. "Nya, Ochibi's right?" Kikumaru said. "Fuji has never expressed interest in leading anything."

Kawamura nodded and counted off student groups with his hand. "Student council, class leader, the herb and garden club. You're right. He doesn't do any of that."

"Who doesn't do what?" Oishi was walking into the clubroom, looking about curiously. Tezuka followed.

"Why doesn't Fuji ever try out for any leader positions in student activities?" Eiji asked.

Oishi laughed. "Well, you know Fuji. He's not the type to put himself in the center of things."

"But why isn't he like that?" Momo asked. He began to relay information, slightly envious. "He'd be really good at it. He gets the most chocolates at valentines. The girls love him. The teachers think he's an angel. There is no reason he shouldn't be elected for any leadership roles within the school."

Kaidoh hissed, but didn't say anything. In fact, he did not want to admit it, but he agreed with Momoshiro-baka. There was no reason Fuji couldn't be elected for a high position.

Tezuka remained silent as he walked over to the locker to get out his school uniform. He felt seven pairs of eyes watching him expectantly. "Get ready for class or 50 laps," the buchou said.

The sound of frantic movement was music to Tezuka's ears and he gave a rare smile to the face of his locker that no one could see. The power of laps, he thought. Almost as powerful as Inui juice.

He turned about, holding a washcloth and some soap, and found that someone had not moved. Echizen still stood with his arms crossed, a smug smirk on his face. "Neh, buchou," he said. "You know why, don't you?"

Tezuka didn't even blink. "Inui could always give you a drink after your laps."

Echizen's smug smile trembled and his shoulders shook with an involuntary shudder. The first year walked away to get changed.

The poor regulars, by the time they had gotten changed and ready for class, were desperate now for the truth. Inui kept formulating possible ideas about Fuji's lack of leadership roles from his elementary school years in Chiba to the present writing them all down in his notebook. "I could always find Yuuta . . . Interrogate him. I still have some Aozu. He will definitely like that. Like brother like brother, as the expression goes. Ha. Ha. Ha."

Kawamura and Eji, who sat next to him in class, edged away from the data tennis player as he mumbled and laughed to himself. "Nya. We should warn Yuuta-kun," Kikumaru whispered.

"Where's Fuji-kun?" one of the girls asked, confused. She turned to look at the Seigaku regulars. "Did you see him this morning at practice?"

Oishi, who had just sat down, nodded. "He was there . . . but he rushed out rather quickly. He should have been here by now."

They waited . . . and waited . . . class went by without Fuji.

"Moh!" Eiji exclaimed when the bell rang and the class began to disband. "Where is he? I don't remember him ever doing this!"

Inui straightened his glasses. "Actually, he has done this before. On the 24 of November, last year. Then on April 5th. Then on—"

"Alright! So he's done this before!"

Oishi looked concerned. "Maybe he is getting sick." They walked out of class. Kaidoh and Momoshiro, pushing and shoving in the hallway, walked passed. "Minna, have you seen Fuji?"

Kaidoh and Momoshiro, in the process of shoving books into each other's faces, looked up at their senpai. "No," the said in unison. The looked back again at each other with a heated glare. "OI! Who said you could copy me?!" they barked in unison. "SHUT UP! MAKE ME!"

Ryoma, rubbing his eyes sleepily (He had just gotten out of English class . . . in other words, he had just woken up.) looked at his fellow teammates with surprise. "Eh? Did we plan a meeting in the hallway?"

"Anou, Echizen, have you seen Fuji?" Kawamura asked worriedly.

Echizen blinked. "Hai."

The regulars eyes widened. "Nani?" They crowded around Echizen. "Where is he?"

"He is sitting outside, reading note cards."

The regulars blinked down at the freshman with confusion. "Note cards?" Oishi asked.

"Hai. I need to get to class." Ryoma walked passed them.

The regulars looked at one another. As one they snuck to the double doors of the school and tip toed outside. Eiji caught sight of Fuji first he waved erratically to keep Kaidoh and Momoshiro quiet. The two of them were fighting again . . .

But really, he didn't have to waste his efforts. Fuji was sitting hunched over, deeply absorbed in the note cards, muttering to himself.

"What is he saying?" Kawamura whispered. The rest of the team shushed him and crept closer, all five of them hiding behind a bush to peer out at the tensai. Eventually they could hear him.

"Hello, I'm—I'm Fu—fuji Syuusuke, and my presentation today is about sea anemenemonene—anemonemone—anemone." His eyes were opened and he was sweating bullets. "The sea anemone is, contrary to common belief, not a plant. It—it is a animal. With animal cells. And . . . and it has . . . it has . . ." He flipped through the note cards. "It has testicles, NO! It has tentacles. Ten-ta-cles. Yes, tentacles and it lives at the bottom of the ocean . . . You don't have to say that! Everyone knows where they live already. They . . . they are poisonous and—They—they come in all shapes and sizes, colors and . . . and their real purty."

Fuji ripped apart the jumbled and discombobulated note cards violently. "Saaaaaa! These note cards aren't going to help!" Fuji glared with cerulean blue eyes down at the grass, clenching his hand in quiet, seething anger.

After a minute he stood up and shoved his note cards into his bag, smiling serenely once again, and walked away. The only sign of his discomfort was the perspiration that dripped down his brow and the slight twitching of his delicate, honey eyebrow.

There was complete and utter silence. Kikumaru was the first one to move. He fell over. Momo kept staring in shock at the grass, folded over where Fuji had been sitting on it. Kaidoh was turning blue. He did not hiss. He had forgotten how to breathe. Kawamura, who had grabbed his racket for moral support, was too mentally disturbed to warp into "burning mode."

Oishi blinked, concerned. "Minna . . . was that really Fuji?"

"Aa," Inui said. He meticulously wrote notes in his notebook, glasses flashing. "That was him . . . and now we know the reason he will not apply for any leader positions. Ii data."

It all seemed impossible. But still, it explained a lot. The only reason a genius like Fuji would not become a group leader was simple.

Fuji Syuusuke dreaded public speaking.