"The second part of the answer"

Summary: Shiraishi plays a match against Yukimura in the nationals and as he starts to lose his senses, he realizes one reason of why he will continue playing even if it seems that he will lose for short. Later on, when alone with Watanabe, he discovers the other reason.

Author's Note: I guess I sort of wrote this as a stress relief as university has been getting to me, I don't really know why but it just is. Anyway, it really seems that I will be taking a break from Chapters and probably prince of tennis in general. I mean, I still like it but I think I ran out of ideas for fan fictions for now. So I guess I'll be writing my genbu kaiden fan fiction again, or my baldur's gate one.

This story is set in Shiraishi's second year and I have decided to let Shitenhouji come second.

Written in: March 12-14, 2008

There were a lot of times when he left his competitors half kneeling on the ground due to a glorious triumph of 6-0 and he would usually celebrate his own win instead of showing any sympathy for his defeated opponents.

That was why he couldn't help but to wonder whether this was karma at work, making him in this situation. He would be able to return these serves if his body would only co-operate and let him do what he was usually able to do.

He clenched his hand over the tennis racquet even tighter but he still could barely feel his grip on it.

"What is this?" he cursed out aloud as he failed to return the ball once again due to his shaking hand and inability of judging.

His version was starting to get very blurry, and he suspected that it was not a mere coincidence because it continued after he wiped his eyes carefully with both his wristband and towel.

But he was still not prepared for the sudden blindness: all the more cruel because he was still able to hear the ball flying towards him. If only he could control his limbs…if only he could see…

The problem was that he simply couldn't.

What was the point to all this? Why did he even bother to continue?

The umpired continued to call out the scores but his voice was getting very distant even though Shiraishi barely moved.

"Is it my hearing now?" he whispered, barely hearing the last set of points being called out.

"I am sorry to use this against you, Shiraishi-kun." Yukimura said with true sincerity. "But I am the buchou of Rikkai…"

That was the last thing he heard…it was highly likely that Yukimura said more, but Shiraishi could no longer hear anything.

How could he continue playing? He couldn't even serve a ball, what he needed to do right now.

He asked himself why he continued once again, somehow managing to grab a ball, but he could hardly feel the rough surface against his fingers.

It seemed pointless for him to try because he couldn't even do anything when he just began to lose his senses, now he couldn't even see or hear.

He used to enjoy silence because it was so rare. Though the members in the tennis club would immediately cease their gossips when he walked past, he could still hear the words they said and would say about him. He did not want a silence that only covered up the still moving words instead of stopping them from being said.

That was why he enjoyed being alone now and then by practising in the deserted court. No one would judge him, no one would interrupt him.

Now he hated it all, he wanted nothing more then to be with the world again by seeing and hearing. Without being told, he knew that this would only end once this match was finished.

And it could be done much quicker if he gave up now.

But he suddenly recollected all the times he mother would force him to eat foods that he dislike due to explaining that they were good for him, just as his father never allowed him to not eat any medicines when he got sick.

There were also times when he would study in his spare time at their training camp or bus trips even though he much rather be playing and joking around with everyone else.

Last of all, he also thought about the time he finally decided to use his perfect tennis all the time.

"I am the buchou." He said once more. "I have to finish this."

There was another reason- one that he was not willing to admit yet. There had been a time when he just finished practising alone and since it was earlier then usual he did the rather childish thing of lying on the ground and starting up at the sky.

"Our new buchou seems to be in a good mood." His coach had commented out when he walked past with a large stack of paper. "What are you dreaming of? Winning the Kansai regional? Participating in the finals of the nationals and winning it?"

"Well, that is the best thing, isn't it?" Shiraishi replied innocently.

"Maybe you can succeed in what I failed then." There was an unusually serious tone in Watanabe's voice as he took a seat beside Shiraishi. "More then ten years ago I became the buchou and I dream this same dream too, but I couldn't win my singles game so we had to take the silver medals.

"I am really proud of what I did but I hope that it will one day be overshadowed by the one who win the national, instead of just being the runner up."

The first thing to return was his ability of feeling- the beginning to the end of this unnatural world Yukimura forced him to be in. The game must have finished already because he was shaking someone's hand with the aid of another person.

He was sure that the one helping his was his coach, as the edge of the sleeves were that of a coat, not the ribbed edge of their sports jacket.

Then he felt a sudden weight around his neck, the medal must be silver as he could recognise the words on it when someone gently guided his fingers to trace the engraving. The overall medal for second place was then placed into his hands as he was the buchou.

When his eyes could finally see again, he was back in his room, as he did not know what happened in the ceremony since he was not able to see or hear.

One of the first things he noticed was the note that was carefully tucked under the medal- a silver one. The message was simple but sincere: his team mates told him to have a good rest if he did not feel like joining them in the common room below.

A bitters mile formed as he picked up the silver medal: this was not what he fought so hard for.

As he thought about his broken dreams he began to hear the sounds that were always present- such as the soft mummer of the people outside his room, the wind blowing. He welcomed these noises as the world of emptiness he was in really scared him.

"So it seems that you can finally hear me now." Watanabe said softly.

Much to Shiraishi's surprise, his coach was actually sitting right by his bed and as he walked to him he could smell that familiar mixture of cigarette mingled with mint- what he brought for his coach almost everyday.

"I have recovered." Shiraishi stated quietly. "What about the others?"

"The others? They are naturally sad that we lost but they are comforted by the knowledge that they did their best and are the runners up of the national." Watanabe said as he gently took the silver medal from Shiraishi. "You should be proud too- you did more then what was expected and…"

"This is not just about Shitenhouji winning." Shiraishi interrupted his coach's words angrily. "There is so much more involved. This is why I am not happy!"

"And what more do you want?" Watanabe demanded, his voice hardening as he took out a cigarette. "Why do you always want so much?"

"Why shouldn't I?" he snapped back angrily.

But Watanabe did not answer him, he continued to smoke in silence for quite sometime before he suddenly extinguished the cigarette with his own hands and though his words were barely audible, the raw emotion in it was very strong.

"You are like a phoenix who keeps on flying higher and higher. I can't even try and hold onto the end of your tail now."

Saying so he stood up and headed toward the door…

…but he suddenly found himself being grabbed very tightly by the waist.

"But it is for you too." The young boy's tone and voice was very much like what he had used when he allowed emotion to speak instead of rationality. "I want to win so people will say that you were right by making a second year into the buchou."

He felt his hand being gently shook off but before he even had time to react, he was enfolded into his coach's embrace, his body right against the much older man.

"And I also want to let you be the coach of a team that win the nationals as you can no longer be the buchou of a team that does so." Shiraishi continued, finally feeling brave enough to admit his other real reason.

Watanabe's lips curled into a smirk and he pulled the boy even closer before he bent down to kiss him on the lips very tenderly- the very beginning of their relationship.

For the first time, Shiraishi did not mind the stench of cigarette that was almost always surrounding his coach. In fact, he was even glad that it was so close to him.

Author's Note: I don't really like the idea that Echizen manages to break Yukimura's tennis- where he take away your senses, because he just always really love tennis. When I first read that bit I thought that some one like Shiraishi might be able to break it by the fact that he will continue doing something even if he doesn't like it, because of duty.