Title: Downfall

Words: 617

Summary: Data seemed only to be a useful tactic in tennis, but to Mizuki, it was his life. And he could not pull it away.

Authoress: The Wonderful K. Muffin

Rating: T for suggested themes (?) and possible OOC

[General] Not romance you know. GENERAL. Hurray for non-romantic fan fictions in the Prince of Tennis fandom!

A/N: I had two parts, but I deleted one of them accidentally!

EDIT: I deleted it! I deleted it accidently! I'm so sorry, Frog-kun and the xxkoffexx who already reviewed my story!

I feel stupid.

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Mizuki watched quietly as the cheering Seigaku Regulars thrust Echizen in the air once, then twice, the surprised look on the capped boy, the happy tears streaming down the vice-captain's face, the renewed energy of the defeated doubles one pair, it was all perfect, the defeated Ouja Rikkai lay down their pride and banished their humiliation with newborn determination. The matches had been amazing to see, but Mizuki Hajime wasn't strongly interested in any of them except one. The match with Sanada and Echizen was close to make him almost gape―the freshman and the fukubuchou of Rikkai were nearly close to breaking the Laws of Physics, but no. The heated game between Fuji Syuusuke and that little devil called Akaya wasn't burned in his mind, even though it had been breath-taking. No, it wasn't them or any of the doubles' matches.

It was the fight with Yanagi and Inui, and every little detail was literally branded into his memory.

"Then from this moment on, I will throw away my data tennis!"

The hard panting, the movements, it even said it in his eyes.

"When you threw away your own playing style, you lost any chance you had of winning."

Yet he did win with just power alone. No predictions ever crossed his head. No chances. No percentages. He abandoned what he learned from the past and faced Yanagi as a whole new person. The only instruction left in him was to merely hit the ball. Mizuki didn't realize he was clenching his fists so tightly it left angry red marks in his skin until after the match was over. He stood up and strode through people back to the dorms, nodding slightly at Yuuta's statement to stay at the courts. He wasn't really paying attention to what was in front of him, all he did was put one foot in front of the other with a running thought passing through his head:

What if I could throw away my data?

But it was quickly gone and tucked away to the deserted corner of his brain. That was preposterous, outrageous, Mizuki is data. And he had a painful moment without it when Seishun Gakuen went against St. Rudolph. He became a nobody and was stripped of his calm composure. He laid before Fuji Syuusuke with only a racket. That day, the absence of it only emphasized how important it was. Inui Sadaharu was already strong to begin with, and became even more remarkable without his regular strategies to hold him down; it was pure instinct that drove him to victory.

Mizuki was never strong in the beginning; he was only gifted with intelligence and the ability to hide his raw, raging emotions under a thin, serious expression. His play-style was his wall from others, his own façade. It had always worked for a good amount of time during his beginning junior-high days, but those childish feelings were still out on the sleeve. He wanted to win. He had to win. It was a must.

Those feelings brought down any trust and respect his teammates had for him.

And when Mizuki thought it couldn't get any worse, his cool and calculated mask broke even more under the immense guilt that stayed like a rock in his chest. Yet Fuji Yuuta still forgave him without any apology needed, Akazawa even forgot about the loss. But his teammates never treated Mizuki the same after that. He hated Yuuta's strained smile. The growing guilt. Everything.

Mizuki's data is cruel, unmerciful. His teammates know that. He himself knew that, but he never cared. Until now.

Under the impression of a strong manager at St. Rudolph, Mizuki is still a childish teenager, still unable to expel the one thing that got in the way of anyone's true forgiveness:

His data. But without it, Mizuki is nothing.

[end]