Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis nor its characters.
When I Play Like This
The tennis ball hit the net and fell to the ground, each bounce resonating throughout the stadium.
"Game and the match, Hyoutei Gakuen Atobe, 7 games to 6," the umpire called out. Just as these words were said, Tezuka Kunimitsu fell to the ground on his knees, right hand clutching his left shoulder. The spectators watched, unable to move from their seats, as the white racket fell from his left hand and landed with an ominous clatter.
The whole stadium was rooted to their seats. Meanwhile, the Seigaku regulars stared wide-eyed at their stoic buchou, with the obvious exception of Fuji Shuusuke, the resident tensai of the team. They immediately leapt over the divider and ran towards him, shouting "Buchou!" or "Tezuka!". Fuji Shuusuke remained where he was.
He couldn't believe that the famous national level Tezuka Kunimitsu had broken down in front of everybody. THE Tezuka Kunimitsu. The one and only Tezuka Kunimitsu. Coming to his senses, Fuji shook his head and tried to ignore the stares directed at him for being the lone regular not rushing towards their buchou. Closing the blues orbs that were revealed just for a moment a while ago, Fuji jumped over the waist tall divider and joined the team.
"Tezuka!" Fuji exclaimed as he helped him up. "Are you all right?"
Tezuka tried to get onto his feet and grunted, "Ah-," and stopped abrubtly. His face contorted into an image of great pain and it took him intense effort to ward it off. The rest of his teammates were looking in his direction, concern etched on their faces. "I'm fine," he managed out. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief.
Fuji, however, was not fooled. "Get him to the hospital," he told Kikumaru.
"Huh?" the red head replied, "Tezuka said he was fine."
"Just do it," Fuji said irritably, and the harsh tone in his voice frightened the acrobatic player.
Just then, Inui decided to barge into the conversation. "If Fuji says so, just do it. He is, after all, the genius of the team."
Fuji shifted his balance and rested Tezuka's arm over Kikumaru's shoulder. "Okay," Kikumaru whispered, and he, together with Oishi, brought Tezuka to a hospital despite his protests, which were drowned by
the barrage of words coming from the mother hen of the team. Tezuka sighed and glared weakly at Fuji before succumbing to the awesome power of Oishi's incessant ramblings.
Tezuka's opponent was still fixed in his I'm-going-to-return-a-ball stance and his face was contorted into a shocked look. It seems like he too was caught by surprise by Tezuka's fall. Suddenly, he spun around and came face to face with…Fuji. With his light hearted smiling face, he said, "Let's have a match."
The guy before him was startled, but smirked and said, "Whatever. Give it all you've got from the start."
"Oh, I plant to." Fuji suddenly revealed his sharp sapphire eyes. The other party participating in that small talk flinched but brushed it off. "Ore-sama no bigi ni yoi na! (Be awed at the sight of my prowess!)"
Fuji gazed on sadistically at Atobe and returned the smirk. "Be awed at the sight of MY prowess."
Atobe waved his hand dismissively and got into position. "Bring it on."
While all that went on, Inui, Takasan, Momoshiro, Kaidou and Echizen were staring blankly at Fuji, whom, they had just realized, had asked for a match with Atobe, self-procalime "King" who had beaten Tezuka. They returned back to their stand and watched on, still seriously doubting Fuji's ability to stand up to Atobe.
The tensai picked up Tezuka's forgotten white racket from the ground and the whole stadium, which had just started a hubbub, grew silent. A match was starting.
Fuji took a ball from his pocket and served. From that serve, Fuji played the match side by side with Muga no Kyochi. Fuji could feel the rage building up in him. Atobe dared to hurt Tezuka. Well, his shoulder, that was. And Fuji would not let him get away unpunished.
Oh, and his punishment has to be severe.
Ten minutes later, the game was over, and Atobe didn't even manage to steal even one point from Fuji. "G-game and the match, Fuji, six games to love!" the umpire stuttered.
The game consisted of mainly Fuji's triple counters and disappearing serve, topped up nicely with a knuckle serve, and almost every other special move by almost every player Fuji had seen to end the game and match. All the while, Fuji's eyes had been opened wide, blue eyes flashing menacingly, scaring the wits out of Atobe.
Of course, Atobe was too dignified to admit that.
That was the worst tennis experience Atobe had ever had. He was beaten flat. By Fuji.
"Ore-sama no bigi ni yoi na," Fuji whispered, threat hanging from every word, then he ran at least the distance of a hundred and fifty laps around the tennis courts at school to the hospital, with the tennis racket in hand.
Minutes later, he appeared at the door of Tezuka's ward, panting heavily.
And no one had told him which one Kikumaru and Oishi had brought him to.
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"Oi oi." Momoshiro said. "We've never seen him play like this before. It's like he's got a whole army fighting for him."
"Mada mada dane," came Ryoma's curt reply, then took a sip of the can of Grape Ponta in his hands.
"Ii data," Inui mumbled, tying up the loose ends of his data collection on Fuji. "This has got to be the tensai Fuji going full out." Inui fingered the recording instrument in his lap. "I wonder what made him so angry though, although I already know that it most likely had something to do with Tezuka's shoulder. In fact, I'm one hundred percent sure that is has something to do with his shoulder."
Inui looked up into the sky. "But I wonder why…"
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"Tezuka, how are you doing?" Fuji leaned over his buchou's hospital bed and gave him a worried look that one would have thought would only be possible for Oishi to achieve. Tezuka's racket was on the bedside table, completely forgotten.
"I'm fine. I don't know why they hospitalized me."
At those words, Fuji flung his arms around the poker-faced boy who looked so much older than his age. Tezuka stiffened at the contact while Fuji mumbled into his deep golden hair, "I'm glad."
Kikumaru's face distorted into an expression that would have been commonly seen around any of Inui's Vegetable Juice (count the Aozu in this one too) and pure shock bloomed on Oishi's. The Golden Pair left the room, acknowledging the fact that Fuji wanted some alone time with the bespectacled boy. Well, only Oishi did, actually. He had to drag his partner with him.
Kikumaru was so shocked he couldn't think or move.
"Ah, Fuji, you didn't have to do that."
Fuji released his hold on Tezuka and smiled sheepishly. "I'm just glad you're fine." Not to mention really relieved too, Fuji thought. I must apologize to Atobe-sama for spoiling his winning streak with anybody other than Tezuka himself.
At that moment, the ward door burst open. "Fuji-senpai, amazing!" Momoshiro shouted.
"Fushuu. Porcupine head, you're too loud."
"Shut up, Mamushi (Viper)!"
"Shut up yourself, bastard."
"What did you say, mamushi?"
"I said shut up!"
"You bastard!" Kaidou pounced on Momoshiro and a fight ensued.
Oishi poked his head into the ward and said apologetically, "I tried to stop them."
"Ah, Fuji-senpai, Tezuka-buchou, ignore them. Inui-senpai has something to show you," Ryoma said.
Inui connected a video camera to the television in Tezuka's ward and played one of the videos in there. Those who had already witnessed the match took time to admire Fuji's elegant play style even though he was playing very aggressively and those who hadn't sat shell-shocked. Literally. Kikumaru, who was standing, just fell flat on the ground, his eyes not once leaving the TV screen.
And Fuji, who had never actually seen himself play before watched the video silently. Ten minutes later the video ended, and ten minutes later, no one in the room stirred, until Tezuka cleared his throat, that is. "Fuji, you're sitting on my leg."
"Ah, sorry!"
"Inui," Kikumaru started, "why are you showing us random people playing tennis? And where's the rest of the video? Why does that guy, or girl, in blue and white look like someone of the opposite gender? Who's that person's opponent?"
All those present at the match, with the exception of Fuji, stared at Kikumaru.
Inui was the first to come round. "Ahem. Let me clear your queries. Kikumaru, that person's opponent is Atobe." Kikumaru sucked in a lung full of air.
"Amazing. I didn't know anyone other than Tezuka can play evenly against him, let alone so well."
"Secondly, haven't you noticed that that person is wearing Seigaku's regular uniform?"
"What?!" Kikumaru exclaimed. "Fujiko? Was that you? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to call you a girl! But, Fujiko played against Atobe and got such a head start? When did he play?" He spoke so quickly that he choked on his own saliva.
Oishi sighed and patted his back hard. "Eiji, calm down."
"Okay."
Fuji didn't know how to respond.
"Next, the video wasn't cut short. That's the whole match."
"WHAT?!" the Golden Pair shouted. "That's it?" Oishi asked.
"You mean Fujiko finished a match against Atobe Keigo of Hyotei six games to love in…" Kikumaru trailed off to check consult the clock in Tezuka's ward, "ten minutes?"
"Yes."
"Lies! Fujiko! What madness drove you to play Atobe that roughly and mercilessly?"
Fuji shrugged his shoulders and tried not to look at the man whose bed he was sitting on. "Nothing."
"Ah! Fujiko you liar!"
"Ah. That's what I wanted to know too." Tezuka's deep voice startled everyone. They had forgotten that he was there.
"Um, I'll tell you some time later," Fuji muttered under his breath and hastily walked out of the room. Once safely out of range of anyone in the room, Fuji leaned on the wall and slumped to the ground. "Why me?"