Title: Don't Ever Forget
Words: 1,060
Summary: How long has it been ever since he died? Ever since the team had completely split apart?
Authoress: The Wonderful K. Muffin
Rating: K+
Warnings: Character death, OOC(?), Non-romance, meaning if you clicked this for romance, you're lookin' at the wrong story
[General]
A/N: Doing his first point of view is pretty difficult, since this is my first time doing this team and I haven't read the centered-arcs in the manga about this team in a while, so expect obvious OOC. It's pretty easy to tell whose first point of view it is, since there are some pretty clear details. Oh well, I tried. I'm not too happy with the ending either. This short story was made in about two hours, most of it being musing and trying to listen to music over my mom's vacuuming. Hopefully I'll be able to redeem myself by writing a well-characterized fan fiction of this lovable team after reading the manga again.
Main theme(song): Dareka no Negai ga Kanau Koro (When Someone's Wish Comes True) by Hikaru Utada, it really is a beautiful song!
I'm not Konomi Takeshi, who would have written cool action/tennis stories and wouldn't have a problem with OOC-ness like me, thus, I do not own The Prince of Tennis.
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Don't Ever Forget
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How long has it been? I don't remember the date, I doubt anyone did. No one cares when it happened, but that it did happen. The sun shone dazzlingly during that day with few clouds floating in its large open sky. Everyone's laughing, everyone's happy. It was the day after the Finals of the Kantou Tournament, we were about to bring news… But then… why did it have to…?
"I'm sorry, he died this morning."
The entire team had a quick and terrified response, smiles forced off their faces. Some burst into tears right on the spot. Some shook the doctor's shoulders violently, screaming. Screaming. I don't know how it slipped out of my mouth so coldly, so monotonous. If I had said something different, would everything have changed?
"Let's go, we need to practice."
All of them turn their heads to me slowly, shocked. Their hurt faces showed it all and then I regretted it immediately. Why did I say that?
"Don't you even care?! Don't you care about him?!"
Everyone left the hospital. The sun was still shining bright, joyful, widely grinning, and I wondered if it was mocking us, but I had to keep the team together, I have to. The Nationals… we still need to win the Nationals. If everyone was not up to his best then all that we worked for would be lost. We shouldn't grieve. We don't need tears. We are supposed to be strong.
I didn't come to his funeral.
No one mentioned about it the next day. It was quiet; no conversations were exchanged except the thwacks heard across the courts, when did the sound become so hollow?
"He's so heartless, look at him! He's not even affected by it all!"
Tennis. Tennis was I need to think of. To win for my team. To defeat the opponents.
"Maybe he was only waiting for this chance to become captain."
The day of the finals was the moment I was waiting for. I realized my hand was cold with sweat, but I gripped my racket even harder. This is our chance. This is our chance…
"He didn't come to his funeral, what kind of cruel person is he?"
When I began serving, everything started to fall around me.
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How long has it been ever since he died? Ever since the team completely split apart?
I'm now a senior in High School, tennis was the past. It was time to advance and completely forget about it. School had been particularly stressful, final exams for college, cram classes. I had been so caught up in my work I almost had forgotten the existence of the term: taking a break. My teachers had insisted me to rest for a few days, and when I said that I was fine, they told me to not touch another textbook or my parents would "surely hear of your inability to improve your social skills and evenly balancing work and rest." Then they locked me out of their classroom and I'm standing right outside of the school.
"He's such a workaholic; didn't he used to be a captain of a tennis club in Junior High?"
I let my feet wander, taking out an old, black cap and tugging it further down my eyes. I bumped into a few irritated people at some times, and I vaguely wondered if I should keep note of where I am so I could go back to the dorms. Eventually I stopped at a nice bench and sat down. Hearing a very familiar sound of a ball hitting the pavement in the distance, I sat back and closed my eyes.
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"Everything has changed ever since…"
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"Captain, I… want to resign. I don't think I'll be playing tennis anymore, I'm sorry."
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"We lost the Nationals; you said that we would…!"
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"You have failed yourself as a captain."
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"Maybe if he didn't die. We would've won."
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"Do you mind if I sit here?"
I blinked; someone was standing in front of me. I remember those seemingly closed eyes…
"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" he said quite cheerfully, I noticed he was holding a bouquet of assorted flowers.
"Aa," I muttered, and moved aside for him to sit. He seemed a lot taller since Junior High,
"How have you been?"
"I've been doing well," I lied, hoping that the dark circles under my eyes would not deceive me, but then I realized that I was talking to an old friend.
"It's pretty sunny today."
I must have sent off a sudden reaction to the seemingly harmless comment, because he looked at me strangely. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," I leaned forward with my elbows resting on my thighs. "Sorry."
He sighed, "Are you still affected by his death?"
"You haven't moved on already?" I couldn't stop the low growl in my voice; I tried not to lead the conversation to this point, and a visible slight frown printed on his lips.
"You're the one who hasn't moved on. Look," he stopped looking at me and stared at the bird feeding her chicks in a nest at a tree nearby, "I'm sorry what we, the team, had said to you after the Nationals."
I prevented the urge to laugh dryly. "If I was a better leader, then our tennis team could still be together."
"It doesn't matter anymore," he said quietly, a small smile went back on. "You see, it wasn't your fault."
"The Nationals?"
"You just weren't thinking clearly, after his death; you never talked about him anymore. The team thought you didn't care."
Didn't care. Maybe he was right.
"You do know that today is the fourth anniversary of his death. I was about to visit the cemetery until I saw you," he stood up and picked up the flowers. "Do you want to come too?"
"I… can't, Renji."
He smiled again, a little more sadly. "You can't forget about the past. Remember Genichirou, it isn't your fault."
I knew it was. The Nationals. The fall. And did I really have thought that our tennis team would have lasted forever?
"If I should die in the surgery, don't forget about me, okay?
Closing my eyes once again, I pushed my old memories towards the back of my mind and wished for it all to go away.
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[end]