Disclaimer in chapter 1

The hours had passed and the lights had flickered on at the darkening sky. Two figures lay panting for air on the scuffed surface of the tennis court. While it was obvious that Echizen had evolved and was significantly better, it still surprised Fuji just how talented and skilled his kouhai had become. The training, focus and special diet were paying off.

Slowing his breathing down, he recalled the first minutes of their match. He had, in fact, lost the spin and found himself on the receiving end of Echizen's twist serve. A twist serve that was faster and a lot more accurate. The younger boy had easily won that game and tied the match up before Fuji was able to formulate a way to counter. And he did. Despite Echizen's far more intense training, he still was in the process of building up his strength.

To which Fuji himself gladly used to his advantage. Despite not being a power player, some of his new counters did exert some force behind them.

In the end, Echizen did win, 7 games to 5, as a matter of fact. Still, he thought as looked to the side, he managed to get the younger player winded. Echizen's chest was still heaving slightly. The younger boy had grown only a bit and even though Fuji himself hadn't really had that much of a growth spurt, he was still a bit taller than his kouhai. Enough that it made a difference.

Closing his eyes, he let the cool breeze that was making its way in wisp pass his face, tickling his senses and cooling his body down. The sweat from the exertion was starting the dry in sticky patches and he knew he'd have to shower as soon as he got home. But at that moment, it didn't matter. In that instance, he was simply relishing the moment.

Relishing the thrill of it all.

He had felt his nerves tingle, his muscles flex in anticipation. His heart had noticeably pounded at a quicker pace and his mind had run a million kilometers an hour. He had felt himself get excited. He had learned to play for a team, learned to really want to win. Learned to put everything into his tennis and enjoy it. But there never was a match that thrilled him.

There were very few players currently who could even pull that off. Despite Tezuka's career damaging injury and decreased performance, Fuji still felt a rush when he played against his friend and former captain. However, since Tezuka simply could not physically play as well as he used to, Fuji himself was hard pressed to find someone who allowed him the thrill of the match.

He smiled. He was glad Echizen returned.

"Ne, Fuji-sempai. That was a good game." The solid, unbroken voice came through the air. Opening up his eyes again, he pushed himself up to see his kouhai sitting cross legged on the court, racket balanced on his knees. Clothes appearing unruffled, breathing normal. If Fuji hadn't just played him, it would be difficult to tell Echizen had even played.

"Must be that training," he said quietly, gently allowing himself to rise up. His heart was still pounding and he was still trying to slow his breathing. "Echizen, I have to thank you. I haven't played a match like that in a long time."

"Where you've gotten beat? It was a pleasure." There it was. That snarky attitude. Despite the sarcasm, though, Fuji caught the glimpses of a smile on his kouhai's face. It was a real smile and not a smirk.

"So it would seem." Packing their things, they took one last look at the court being heading toward the train station.

POT

Resting his elbow on the armrest, Ryoma casually rested his chin in his hand and glanced out the small airplane window. His trainer was right, the two week vacation had been a much needed break. And although he would never admit it out loud, his baka oyaji had been correct about sending him to Japan. It had been great seeing his old teammates. He especially enjoyed going to the old burger hangout with Momo-sempai and indulging in something that he had rarely eaten since starting his more serious training. It was even better when they had gone to the street courts to get in a few matches.

He enjoyed seeing Kawamura-sempai and eating his sempai's sushi. Those dinners were even more memorable considering they were with Tezuka-buchou. The advice and wisdom that was passed down to him from a senior he had come to respect were greatly valued and Ryoma had enjoyed those few moments when he could seriously discuss his career with a like minded individual. Tezuka Kunimitsu could not physically match up to Ryoma, not anymore. But his understanding and love of tennis was something that Ryoma still continued to strive to achieve. He was glad that he had been able to have more than one conversation with him.

But the clincher, he decided, was finishing that long awaited match with Fuji-sempai. He could still see his graceful, intelligent sempai across the net, eyes always watching, mind always working. It was an exhilarating match. It was even better that he had beat him. The pulse of the volley, the sound of the ball meeting the racket, it all continued to echo through his mind. Leaning back in his seat, he let his eyes flutter shut. He could see that first match, rain pouring down, wet shoes skidding on the slick ground, blue ice flashing from the across the way. This memory blended with the recent match and ended with the bright yellow ball hitting the ground less two feet from the net and then preceding to roll toward the net. Zero-Shiki drop shot. He had done it before. But judging from his sempai's wide eyes, his movements this time were not as apparent.

It was a victory, both on the court and his own personal growth. As the plane took off, he felt a sense of satisfaction settle in. Finally, the match that began all those many years ago came to an end.

Thank you, Fuji-sempai. For not forgetting.

The End