Disclaimer: I do not in any way own "The Prince of Tennis".
- Inexpressible-
Victory
"Game! Kikumaru-Oishi pair, 7 games to 5!" the referee called out. Fuji Syusuke walked up to the net, and extended his hand to his opponents, his eyes in its usual position of being seemingly closed from lightly smiling. His doubles partner, Kawamura Takashi did the same.
"It was a good game, Eiji," Fuji said. "Really, we never seem to be able to defeat you two in doubles."
"No worries, Fuji!" Kawamura shouted, waving his racket around. "We can play them again and defeat them-" He stopped short when Fuji pulled the racket out of his hand. "I mean... it was a good game. You two are really strong." Even though they had experienced Kawamura's split personality for three years now, it was all Kikumaru and Oishi could do not to burst out laughing.
Losing was something that Fuji was far from used to. Even if it was against his own teammates and friends, he still did not like to lose. He played for the thrill of it all - the feeling of his racket hitting the ball, the adrenaline rushes that surged throughout him, the bliss of victory. No matter how many adrenaline rushes he had through the game, no matter how fast his heart pounded from excitement, the bliss of victory would be nonexistent if he lost. All that was there would be... nothing.
"Well?" a voice sounded behind him. Everyone on the court turned to face their captain, Tezuka Kunimitsu, who was standing by the door that led to the tennis courts. "Losers of this game run 50 laps around the courts."
Fuji and Kawamura sighed in defeat, while Kikumaru and Oishi stared at their retreating backs. It was not unusual for Tezuka to make his teammates run laps during practice, though 50 laps were pretty extreme.
Kawamura reached the door first, and began running his laps. Fuji paused when he reached Tezuka, who in turn looked at the prodigy.
"Must you always be so cruel, Tezuka?" Fuji asked. "Fifty laps is a lot now, don't you think?"
Tezuka blinked. "As much as you like to see other people suffer, Fuji, when you lose, it's your turn. And no," he added, glancing at his friend. "Looking cute won't save you this time from running."
With that, Tezuka walked off to observe another match, leaving a bewildered prodigy standing at the door. Several moments passed before Fuji's lips curled up into a smile, racing out to complete his laps.
For it wasn't the emptiness of defeat that he felt, nor was it the aching of his muscles. Instead, though barely there, it was the sensation of victory.