Disclaimer : I do not own Prince of Tennis
AN: Hello. I never write extensive fight scenes. PLEASE COMMENT AND CRITICIZE! I NEED IT! Ahem. Well I know it's unlikely for the PoT people to fight. lol. This is completely fictional and weird and just wrong. I intend to write more! LOL! well here you go.
Round One: Echizen v Tezuka in the Locker Room
There was a moment of utter incredulity as Tezuka touched his stinging cheek and pressed against the locker. This was perhaps the first time he had ever been struck, and for it to be his kohai well, had it not been for his throbbing face he'd think he were dreaming.
Echizen was standing a few feet in front of him, glaring, fist clenched and teeth set hard in his mouth, scowling.
"Buchou—" the younger boy growled.
Tezuka straightened up, adjusting his glasses on his face. He was at a loss for words. He could always tell on Echizen. He could run right over to coach Ryuuzaki's office, pouting in earnest and snitch. But Tezuka, despite what others may have believed, was a 14 year old boy. And 14 year old boys generally didn't snitch.
"What was that for?"
"Shut up!" Ryoma was dashing towards Tezuka, pushing him into the lockers. Tezuka grunted, his shoulder hitting the metal loudly, completely drowning out the clatter of wire framed glasses. They both fell to the ground in a heap as Echizen brought one fist up, ready to have it mingle with the constitution of Tezuka's now far from stoic gaze.
Tezuka's eyes shut as he turned his head, feeling the impact of the small fist to his ear. There was a ringing and when he turned his head to see another small fist coming down. Tezuka brought his arms up, grabbing Echizen's small fist and then pushing the boy back by the shoulders.
Echizen let out a grunt as his back hit the bench, and squirmed in his captain's grasp.
"Echizen…" Tezuka panted. "What are you—"
Ryoma kicked his leg up, kneeing the older boy in the chest. Tezuka let go of the hand on Ryoma's fist, to grab at his own chest in pain, allowing Ryoma time to worm his shoulder out too and to push Tezuka's head to the ground.
Tezuka's head cracked with the impact and he tried forcing his way back up, only to feel Ryoma pressing down harder, fingers laced in Tezuka's brown hair. Desperate, Tezuka flailed his left arm back. He needed to grab something. Anything. He latched onto Ryoma's school jacket, pulling down as hard as he can. He could feel the fabric ripping, and Ryoma's body pressing into his, but the boy wouldn't let go of his head. He wouldn't stop pressing him into the floor. Ryoma jerked Tezuka by his hair, allowing the other boy to breathe. A bubble of blood escaped as Tezuka exhaled sharply. He looked, his eyesight hazy, and spotted a racket on the bench nearby.
Ryoma forced Tezuka's head down again, grinding it into the cement floor. Tezuka shifted, inching his arm up towards the racket on the bench. He felt Ryoma pull his head up again and summoned his strength to elbow the small bow away. He grabbed the racket, tightening his grip on the handle. He sniffed, swallowing a sizeable amount of blood, and turn to wear Ryoma lay, sprawled on the ground. A look of dismay flashed in the boy's golden eyes.
"Buchou," Ryoma purred. "Rackets are for hitting balls not people!"
Tezuka smirked, his eye twitching in pain. He could barely think straight through the pain. Not to mention there was so much blood in his mouth he had to spit. So he did.
"Tell me about it."
Tezuka knew that very well. Of course rackets were for hitting balls. Maybe two years ago Tezuka wouldn't of even—
His thoughts were cut off as Ryoma shot up quickly and snatched the racket away. He attacked, and went straight for Tezuka's knees. Tezuka grabbed Ryoma by the waist, pulling him down along with him. Ryoma twisted, attempting to get out of Tezuka's grasp, swinging the racket down repeatedly against his assailant's back.
Tezuka ignored the beating against his back, forcing Ryoma to the floor. He grabbed Ryoma's free hand and pinned it above the boy's head. Ryoma winced as his knuckles scrapped against the surface. Tezuka pretended not to notice. Besides, Ryoma had done far more damage to him than just a scrape to the knuckles.
There was a sound as the racket in Ryoma's left hand clattered to the floor.
"Buchou—"
Ryoma winced as Tezuka tightened his grip on his wrist.
"I give up."
"Give up?" Tezuka's mouth twitched and he grabbed the boy's other hand. His blood dripped from his mouth, his teeth, his gums, his nose and onto Ryoma's flushed and clean face.
"Yes—" Ryoma shifted, trying to pull his arms away. Tezuka's grip was too strong.
"You started it," Tezuka growled.
Ryoma's eyes widened. He never heard Tezuka speak like that before. He figured he could easily win this fight. Ryoma guess wrong. The boy let his eyes slacken again as a grin danced across his face
Tezuka's plowed his fist into Ryoma's side, causing the boy to buck in pain beneath him.
"Mada mada da ne… Buchou."
"Don't get careless—" Tezuka growled.
Ryoma laughed. And then there was a fist, connecting to his face.
--- FIN
Thank you for reading. Please leave me some comment or crit so I can make the next fight even better. I don't know who will fight next but be sure there WILL be a round two.