© 2010 Gold
Title: Beyond: A Tribute
Part Eleven: Kizuna . Nakama
Author: Gold
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is created by Konomi Takeshi. This work is a piece of fanfiction and no part of it is attributed to Konomi-san or any other entity holding any legal right associated with and arising out of Prince of Tennis . It was written purely out of fanservice and it is not to be used for profit or any false association with Konomi-san or aforesaid entities.
Author's Notes: I haven't been writing much - or anything at all, really - these few months. It's been a very hard time at work and I've been very worn out. I did go for a vacation recently, about 9 days (to Japan!), so physically my body feels somewhat better. I was able to dabble in writing again in odd spots. Hence this chapter! We're coming to the end of the story... I don't think we've more than a couple of chapters to go now. Let's do our best!
Part Eleven: Kizuna . Nakama
It was very hot. The crickets chirped incessantly, their cries loud and shrill in the humidity of the summer heat. Someone had turned on the sprinkler system so that the air sparkled with drops of water, occasionally creating a tiny rainbow for a second or two when the water caught the sunlight at a particular angle.
Saeki Kojirou shifted against a cool white pillar of the gazebo, trying to find an appropriate spot that would mould comfortably to his bones. He thought that perhaps he would suggest to Atobe that some extra cushions ought to be included somewhere. It was awfully uncomfortable without something soft for one's back.
A stone's throw away, the Jimmies and Sengoku Kiyosumi lay in peaceful slumber in the cool shade of several big trees, stretched out in a row on the grass. Their old Yamabuki school-team jackets were folded neatly under their heads, serving as makeshift pillows.
In one corner of the gazebo, Akazawa Yoshirou and Shishido Ryou were engaged in an intense session of arm-wrestling. Akazawa had come up with the idea and proceeded to challenge some of the others; Shishido was the last man left standing after a brutal round-robin. The other defeated participants were now the curious spectators: Fuji Yuuta, Kaneda Ichirou and Yanagisawa Shinya.
Mizuki Hajime was nearby, too; he had reached the gazebo first and picked the shadiest corner, where he proceeded to set up his big, dark purple rose-patterned umbrella and then sat under it. He was surrounded by several little tubes and glass bottles, and was busy slathering on sunscreen and a myriad of other skin products to protect his perfect skin from the cruel rays of the sun.
In yet another corner of the gazebo, Kamio Akira sat meditation-style on a bench, his back very upright and his legs perfectly crossed. He had put on earphones and closed his eyes; the faint sounds of a fast and furious rhythm emanated from behind the earphones.
Ishida Tetsu and Sakurai Masaya talked in low whispers from their spot not far off. Ishida kept mopping his head with a large handkerchief and Sakurai fanned himself from time to time with a makeshift paper fan.
The small, antique wooden table in the middle of the gazebo was fully occupied by two sleepyheads: Akutagawa Jirou and Mukahi Gakuto. Jirou was sprawled in his usual untidy fashion over most of the table; he snored lightly and even drooled a little as he slept. Gakuto, by contrast, was curled up rather neatly, as was his usual wont. His eyes were shut very tightly and his mouth was relaxed in sleep.
Such a motley crew.
Seigaku.
Yamabuki.
St Rudolph's.
Hyoutei.
Fudomine.
And Rikkaidai was somewhere else in the grounds, too.
It was rather funny, Saeki thought drowsily, that he still identified them by their schools, even after all these years. He supposed they did the same for him, too. Saeki Kojirou of Rokkaku.
Saeki felt his eyelids slowly sliding shut. It was dreadfully hot.
"Ah… Saeki-san, is this seat taken…?"
Saeki fought off a yawn and bravely managed a smile. "Oh, it's you, Kawamura-san—please, sit down."
Kawamura Takashi sat down gingerly and adjusted his position so that he took up as little space as possible. "Um, there are so many people here," he murmured.
"Sorry…?" Saeki roused himself with a start.
"… what made them come, I wonder…?"
Saeki blinked. "Huh?"
Kawamura shook his head. "Ah, it was nothing." He settled back and looked for all the world as if he was about to nap, too.
But it was a good question that had been asked, Saeki thought. "Hmm…this sounds like a very deep question."
Now it was Kawamura's turn to blink and stare. "Eh?"
Saeki leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, now… why am I here, indeed?" He lapsed into thought.
Kawamura looked faintly puzzled.
Saeki ignored him. "Let's see… Syuusuke called. Then of course I had to call everyone along, too. It's not something that I could keep from them. Already Aoi's pretty sore that he can't come because he's on holiday with his family." Saeki chuckled a little. "But what about the others…? – Hey, Syuusuke's little brother!"
"Stop calling me that," growled Fuji Yuuta without turning his head. "You of all people should know better."
"Sorry, Yuuta. But why are you here?"
Yuuta whipped his head around. "What?"
Saeki grinned disarmingly at him. "Like I said, why are you here? What's your reason? For that matter, why's Mizuki-san here, and Akazawa-san and all the rest of you…?"
Yuuta's brow furrowed. "Is this a trick question, Saeki-san?" he demanded suspiciously.
"No." Saeki held up both hands, palms facing outwards.
Yuuta relaxed. "Oh. Well, I'm here the same reason you're here."
"Which is?" prodded Saeki.
Yuuta shrugged. "'Cause I wanted to." He then turned back to watch the arm-wrestling.
Saeki tilted his head and looked at Kawamura. "There you have it. Just 'cause we wanted to."
Kawamura nodded meekly. He leaned back and tried to go to sleep again, only to be interrupted by a gusty sigh from Saeki.
"Kawamura-san. If it were my captain, I'd want badly to do something too." Saeki's brow furrowed. "For the rest of us here, it's hard to say. There's supposed to be a reason behind everything, yeah? But sometimes, we don't know what it is. It's hard to define." Saeki folded his arms behind his head. "I envy them—Tezuka and all the rest, who went abroad. They're living my dream, you know?"
Kawamura looked at him wonderingly.
Saeki's eyes were dreamy. "But maybe it's because they're living my dream that I want to be here, for them—Tezuka and Yukimura-san and all the others. I imagine that they're carrying with them all my hopes and dreams in tennis. Every time I watch any of them play, I feel as if those are my dreams which are coming true. I keep thinking to myself: I know 'em, I played tennis with 'em, and I remember that we shared—share still—the same dream when it comes to tennis." Saeki flashed Kawamura a wistful smile. "It's the memories that brought us all back. We've all grown up, and some of us don't play tennis anymore. Some of us hurt ourselves and we can't play tennis any longer. Some of us just stopped playing, because life pushed us too far and we just had to stop." Saeki's shoulders rose and fell in a deep, silent sigh. "So I guess maybe one reason I'm here is because if there's anything that can be done to help keep the dream going, I want to be part of it."
Someone cleared his throat. It was Kamio Akira, who had taken the earphones from his ears.
"When Tachibana-san called me, I got a huge shock." Kamio absently wound the cord of his earphones around his fingers. "I didn't know I could help. I also didn't know how I could help. But I didn't care. I wanted to help somehow. Maybe it's like Saeki-san says. They're carrying our dreams out there. When Shinji plays, I know he's playing for me, for Tachibana-san, for all of us who were his team-mates... He carries our dreams with him, 'cause we can't be there ourselves. Tezuka-san… he's carrying my dream, too. He's that kind of guy." Kamio pursed his lips. "Another thing… we've played with and against Seigaku for so many years... we know every one of you. Tezuka-san's not the kind of guy who takes drugs. I think I'd sooner believe that the sun rises in the west."
Saeki stared at Kamio. "You could hear me through all that pounding music in your ears?" he asked, a note of incredulity in his voice.
Kamio shrugged his shoulders matter-of-factly. "I have very good hearing—and I've trained my ears to shut out external sounds or to take them in, if I want to."
Saeki looked interested. "Really…?"
"Yep." Kamio nodded sagely. "Also, your voice got louder and louder, Saeki-san." He looked in another direction. "I think you woke some people up."
Mukahi Gakuto had sat up, his chin propped up in one hand, and he was obviously trying very hard not to yawn. Akutagawa Jirou, predictably, was still fast asleep.
"Ah—sorry, Mukahi-san," said Saeki apologetically.
"'S'okay," mumbled Gakuto indistinctly. "What're you talking about…?"
"Why we're here," supplied Saeki helpfully.
Gakuto yawned. "Oh. How boring." He rubbed his eyes. "We're all here 'cause we got called here. Yuushi called me, so I came. He said Atobe wanted us here. So I came."
Ishida looked up from his conversation with Sakurai. "Me too. I came because Tachibana-san called." He looked apologetically at Saeki and Kawamura. "I didn't think too hard about dreams and Tezuka-san and things like that. I—I do agree with what Akira said, though. I'm not really good at thinking and I'm not good with words. It's just that when Tachibana-san called, I just had to come." He added shyly, "But of course, I'm really happy if I can be of help to Tezuka-san somehow. He's a good person."
"Don't waste time talking about things like that," ordered someone brusquely. It was Shishido Ryou; he scowled as he rose from his seat, massaging his left arm a little. Akazawa, notably, was trying not to look too triumphant.
"But all the answers that have been given so far are pretty interesting, don't you think, Shishido-san?" Saeki asked, with a good-natured smile. "What about you?"
Shishido paused. "Me?" He shrugged his shoulders. "I just wanted to, that's all."
"That's what I said," Yuuta pointed out.
"Not exclusive to you," Shishido told him.
Saeki eyed them both contemplatively, barely hiding a smile. "Ye-es… but then I could take the question further. Why did you want to be here…?"
There was a dead silence.
"You talk too much like aniki, sometimes," Yuuta said finally, scooting away from Saeki.
Shishido, deciding that the conversation was going in a direction that he was not really interested in, started down the steps that led away from the gazebo. But Saeki's next words stopped him.
"There's just one answer, isn't there?"
Saeki continued, reflectively: "Some of us are here because our captains called us here. Some of us are here because our friends asked. And some of us are here because people important to them – like their older brothers – asked them to be here. But if you look at all the answers, there's really only one answer." Saeki's gaze drifted, thoughtfully, beyond the gazebo. "Now, why didn't I see it before?" he murmured softly. "Just look."
What did he see?
What he had seen before.
Seigaku.
Yamabuki.
St Rudolph's.
Hyoutei.
Fudomine.
And Rikkaidai approaching in the distance… was that Niou Masaharu, wine bottle in hand, with Jackal Kuwahara chasing after him?
Shishido Ryou cursed colourfully. "He's broken into one of Atobe's wine cellars. Is he stupid? He's going to have to work for Atobe forever to pay that off!" He raced down the steps of the gazebo, hollering over his shoulder, "GAKUTO! Get Oshitari and tell him Rikkaidai's stolen Atobe's wine!"
Gakuto opened one eye. "What the –?"
"Just do as I say!"
Grumbling, Gakuto searched his pockets for his mobile phone.
"Here, use mine." Kamio tossed him his own mobile phone.
Gakuto caught hold of it. "Thanks!" He gave Kamio a thumbs up by way of thanks, then dialled a number. While waiting for it to ring, he glanced at Yuuta. "Hey, you have Hiyoshi's number, right?"
Yuuta blinked. "Er – I think so, but I haven't called him in years."
"Yeah, well, he's not the kind of guy to change his number. Can you call him and Ohtori? Tell them I said we've a problem – oi, Yuushi, what took you so long?"
Yuuta stared as Gakuto turned away, talking to Oshitari Yuushi.
"Are you going to call Hiyoshi-kun?" Saeki asked with interest.
"Of course," muttered Yuuta, pulling out his mobile phone.
"Why?" prodded Saeki.
Yuuta just stared at him as if he were crazy, and rolled his eyes. "'Cause I want to, okay? – Ah, Hiyoshi? It's Fuji. Yes. Is Ohtoriwith you? Good. Mukahi-san told me to tell you that there's a problem here. What? Oh, Rikkaidai just stole some of Atobe-san's wine." Yuuta winced and held his mobile phone away from his ear. "Well, how should I know? It just happened! We're in the gazebo. Which one? I don't know! There's a huge bunch of oak trees on my left. – Yes, we're east of the clock tower."
In the distance, Shishido had just reached Niou Masaharu and was engaged in a titanic struggle for the wine bottle. Jackal could be seen waving his arms wildly as he tried to stop them. Marui Bunta popped up, seemingly out of nowhere, and appeared to be alternately trying to grab the wine bottle and "assist" Shishido and Niou, depending on which one appeared to be having the advantage at that particular point in time.
In the copse of trees nearby, Sengoku Kiyosumi stirred. He opened one eye. Then he slowly sat up, blinking as he took in the little tableau before him, wine bottle and all. With a little grin, he rose to his feet carefully, so as not to disturb the still-slumbering Jimmies. Affecting a casual gait, he strolled towards the escalating fracas.
From another direction, a figure vaguely recognizable as Hiyoshi Wakashi was heading for the little fight at a fast clip. Even at that distance, one could make out the furious look on his face.
Gakuto, having ended his conversation with Oshitari, glanced over at what was happening. "Urk."
Saeki was grinning. "It's all right. The calvary's here."
Sure enough, there was a little golf buggy approaching at top speed. It stopped about ten metres from the altercation, and deposited two very tall figures: Oshitari Yuushi and Yanagi Renji. Oshitari grabbed Shishido. Yanagi said something. Niou halted his movements and Marui edged a little away. Jackal heaved a sigh – of relief, likely.
"Fight's over," announced Gakuto. He returned Kamio the mobile phone. "Thanks again, Kamio-san."
"Don't mention it." Kamio pocketed his mobile phone. "I think Oshitari-san's beckoning to us. I guess they've finished their meeting with Atobe-san."
"About time they told us what's going on," agreed Yuuta, getting up. "I didn't cut classes just to have a good lunch at Atobe-san's expense. Hope they've got some concrete ideas in mind."
Kawamura, who was preparing to stand up, too, paused for a moment. "Saeki-san?"
"Hmm?"
"I think I know the answer."
Saeki smiled at him. "Did you look?"
Kawamura nodded. "Yes."
Saeki grinned. "What did you see?"
"Shishido-san and Niou-san fighting over a bottle of wine."
"And?"
"Kamio -san lent Mukahi-san his mobile phone so that Mukahi-san could call Oshitari-san."
"And?"
"Mukahi-san asked Fuji Yuuta-san to call Hiyoshi-san and Ohtori-san."
"Go on."
"Sengoku-san wanted the wine, too."
Saeki chuckled.
"Oshitari-san and Yanagi-san… turning up together."
Saeki amiably clapped Kawamura on the shoulder. "You did look."
The beginnings of a smile edged Kawamura's lips and his eyes crinkled with laughter. "I saw."
What was it someone had said before?
Just look.
Seigaku.
Yamabuki.
St Rudolph's.
Hyoutei.
Fudomine.
Rikkaidai.
Their paths had crossed before, years ago, when they were just simple schoolboys, sharing a deep and abiding love for the game they all played. They had common dreams and common aspirations, and their hearts were filled with hope, anchored by the belief that they could do anything – anything at all, so long as they strived for it. For they knew, in the wisdom of their youth, that the journey would be worth every drop of blood, sweat and tears they had to shed. They had destiny on their side. They had friends who shouldered the load with them, laughed with them, and chased the same hopes and dreams with them.
But they could only be schoolboys once.
As they took their first real steps in the world, it demanded something else from them. They found themselves turning their feet towards paths that they thought they had to take, and in their haste, the dreams and aspirations they once shared seemed but distant memories, and they quietly left their old hopes and dreams in the past. It was enough that destiny had given them their day in the sun, and perhaps this was what it meant to grow up: they had to move on.
Until now, when voices from the past called to them, and tugged at the invisible bonds buried deep in their hearts.
Do you… do you remember?
Do you remember the fun we had?
Do you remember the times we shared?
Do you remember that we said we would always be friends?
Do you remember that we promised we would always stand by one another?
Do you remember… our dream of tennis?
They remembered. They understood. They came, because they wanted to.
Kizuna.
Invisible bonds that linked them, stretching back to a time long past, but never forgotten, bonds forged, perhaps, by the most amazing of coincidences.
Nakama.
Companions. Brothers-in-arms.
Hand in hand, heart to heart.
This was the answer.