They complimented each other, both dispersing along the bordering line of the canvas that bound the other together, kissing softly the paper; they meld together as one beautiful effect.
Not only was this an art form, nor was it a simple technique.
This was a life style. A life style outlined in dramatic designs lit aglow with delicate shades.
This was watercolor.
Suisai Enogu
Extra Chapter
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is the anime/manga series created by mangaka Konomi Takeshi.
AN: To one such person who was not yet satisfied of the final work. Credit goes to Soraku who helped me with the ending, you have saved my butt. This is the final verdict, the last string of words. Have fun reading, reviews are welcome.
Two days. That's what it came down to for Nazu Ayumi.
She had only entered the art competition the week before the last and the deadline was only two days away.
She had nothing, simply said, nothing to show for it. What was she going to do now? Was she even going to try? Would she run?
No, she couldn't run this time. She couldn't do it.
She had to strive on forward. No more running away. No more excuses.
Ayumi gazed at the faintest traces of her latest sketch on the easel in front of her and settled the "F" pencil on the table. The sketch was of the scenery outside the window of the art classroom, snow had begun to pile up. The tree's branches cast off darkened shadows and shapes upon the blanket of white.
"It doesn't feel right," she thought and tilted her head in different angles to stare at the sketch, "it feels so dead."
Ayumi exhaled sharply and lowered her gaze to the remains of her previous work in the trash can two feet away from where she sat.
That's right. She ripped it up at that time.
Her mind was a blur and everything around her seemed to move so quickly, passing her by. He was no exception. Like everything else, while he moved forward, she kept back and stayed, afraid and uncertain of choosing a pathway from the crossroads that determined her fate, her future.
Future, that very word scared her. Maybe it was just too much to think of so many things that had happened that it all wound up overpowering her thoughts, confusing her.
She had left the school and left that world she'd solely entered herself behind.
Ayumi was standing outside the park's tennis courts, dusted with frozen water. She wondered why she was here, if it was by instinct or an undetected urge that lead her here to this very place. Even so, she felt rather comforted because this was the place they both shared such a love for, a long time ago. Those times seemed almost too close and yet so far, her arms weren't long enough to trace back and reset the clock.
Her mind was spiraling down into a deep whirling tide of mismatched emotions, her thoughts ran around in circles giving her a headache. What should she do now?
She heard it, the resounding echoing of a tennis ball connecting with a wall in the stillness of the afternoon. Was she imagining the sound? It was so clear like the ripples created as she dipped her paintbrush into a small container, mixing it in with paint.
Ayumi shook her head, she was trying to relax out here, not bind herself to the burdening recesses of her mind. Burdens, was that what she thought of everything she loved, they were all a burden?
Was she going crazy?
Ayumi's eyes flickered to life as she noticed that she was unconsciously pursuing the sound of a tennis ball bouncing across the ground. She passed the lined path of trees and turned round a corner.
She saw him there, tennis racket in hand and a long scarf round his neck. He took short concise breaths and hit the green ball directly in the same spot, down the middle of the wall. His legs shifting side to side to catch the ball, to hit it again in repetition. His stature in perfect form as he swung his right arm, performing a simple backhand as the ball swerved to his opposite left.
It was nostalgic to see the sight before her eyes, it was like old time's sake back in they're junior years. Ayumi stood behind Ryoma and watched as he continued with his basic exercise. She breathed softly as to not disturb the peaceful aura of concentration.
The movements of his whole body were almost flowing like a brush scaling the edges of a canvas, wistfully deep strokes and flicks of the wrist creating deft dabbing across white. Ayumi just couldn't look away; she could only sigh in amazement, lost in her reminiscence.
"Are you going to stop watching and play?" His voice rang out; he didn't bother turning to question her.
Ayumi closed her eyes, "I'm…satisfied with just watching."
There was short pause before he continued with the conversation at hand, "Why?"
"Just, because." Ayumi replied in an irresolute fashion.
"Have your skills gone that Mada Mada Dane that you won't play against me?" Ryoma turned around and looked at her.
Ayumi stared back at Ryoma, "Don't be as so cocky to say that, Ryoma."
"You'll play then." Ryoma turned around while bouncing the ball underneath his racket.
"I didn't agree to anything." Ayumi muttered, "You're the one who started it."
Ryoma hit the tennis ball towards Ayumi as she caught it with her hand, "Your serve."
A ball swerved into the air and twirled magnificently through the chilly winter air. Echoing of rackets hitting the yellow ball with great precision and speed as the ball now resembled a spur of yellow travelling through either side of the court. Feet kicked up dusty white and whirling cold; wrists whipped and flicked angling the rackets in hand to meet up with the ball matching the movement of footwork.
On her side, she was gapping for breath and the familiar aching feeling of the bitter wind filled her ears. On his side, he merely glanced over at the girl on the other side, his mouth soon etched into a taunting smirk as soon their eyes met.
Doubtful thoughts that had accumulated beforehand and the sense of keeping an imperturbable state were lost on that tennis court. The fuel of adrenaline, competition and excitement came back full force. Ayumi couldn't think on that court, she was immersed, engrossed and completely absorbed, nothing made sense but it all made sense in the end anyway. Nothing mattered as so much as tennis at that moment.
Unlimited power surged through her veins and the sight of the yellow ball passing through her vision erupt a severely intense animalistic urge of onslaught as she pulled and twisted her body to hit that ball back with different styles and techniques. Tennis just wasn't a game, it was a war. A bloodless war that could have drove anyone to absolute insanity. The score was uneven as her breath after the numbers of battle that had ensued between Ayumi and Ryoma.
Out of breath, the feeling of infinite intensity that flowed through her fingertips seeped outwards and she was tired. On the other side of the court, he matched the very state that Ayumi was.
It was his serve, the final serve. It was down onto that very final serves that determined this battle between the two. The forceful passionate connection between them grew much more deeply severe in the quiet and enveloped the two in its clutching grip. Heartbeats thudded in her chest and eyes watched the ball soundlessly as it stuck a dear chord with Ryoma's racket.
Before she knew it, it was over.
He let her win.
"What are you trying to play at?!" Ayumi shouted as she charged over to the young male on the other side of the court. He was putting back his prized racket into its case and zipped it closed.
He shifted the bag carrying his racket on his shoulder, "Who said I wasn't playing at my best?" He looked at Ayumi blankly.
"Don't give me that Ryoma," Ayumi's eyes flared with the anger percolating the irises entirely, "Why did you lose on purpose?"
Ryoma stood quietly and stared at Ayumi as she continued to rant.
"I don't understand…" She grabbed the sides of her head, beginning to shake her head from side to side, "I don't understand, not you, not anyone! I don't even understand myself anymore!"
"Everyone winds up making decisions for me and making me walk down a path that wasn't mine from the beginning! They all do strange things that I can't comprehend! You were so close to me, you've always been by my side! But now, everything's changed!" Tear stricken eyes pierced through the final barrier blocking Ayumi from Ryoma, "Everyone is going away. You're going far, far away to a point where I can't even reach you! And I can't… I can't go on without you. I don't know what to do anymore! Tell me what to do Ryoma! I just don't want to be apart from you, I don't want all of this to be just a broken memory of us…"
Her words were caught inside of her throat as Ayumi's lips were caught by delicate warmth melting the cold grip across her soul. Her heart beat fast about to burst out from her chest that it hurt so much, it was unbearable.
It was the slowest of seconds when he removed his bruised lips and he drew her in a hug. The silence was enough for the both of them as snow fell from the sky.
Idiot, you should have said so before.
I love you.
Watercolor and Tennis are battles of passion that collide, of wars within the world, and within itself. But these battles are won, when water and paint flow as one to create a beautiful painting.