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Fic: "Victory Road" (Ryoma, Fudomine) Gen, Part Two
“Victory Road”, Part 2
by: Trinity Helix
Feedback: Everything to trinity_cross@yahoo.com
Website: www.trinityhelix.com
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Characters: Ryoma, Fudomine (Seigaku, Hyotei, etc.)
Genre: Gen, AU
Warnings: None
Notes: Based on a concept by prillalar: What if Ryoma had gone to Hyotei/Rikkaidai/Fudomine/etc. instead? Other AUs of this nature can be found here: "King" by prillalar (Ryoma, Hyotei), and "Champions" by assyrian (Ryoma, Rikkaidai).

Victory Road Part One Here: http://trinityhelix.livejournal.com/163113.html



6. Even Ground

People turned to look when Fudomine registered for Districts. They were a no-name school fielding a freshman and second years, their coach was also the captain, and he was the only third year on the team.

Never mind that some of the older players raised an eyebrow when they saw the dark-haired boy’s name-- it was chalked up to coincidence and after all, wasn’t /he/ supposed to be from Kyushuu?

Echizen looked at the captain curiously, but Tachibana ignored them all. He bent down and filled in their forms, Kamio with the line-up right behind him.

There were only two schools in this district that were rumored to be of any substance, in any case: Seishun Gakuen and Kakinoki.

“Seigaku’s the top seed,” explained Kamio. “So they don’t have to come until later.”

“I suppose we’ll see what they’re really made of,” muttered Uchimura, tugging his cap off and running his fingers through his hair. “They’re supposed to have a Nationally-ranked doubles pair.”

An uneasy ripple went through their bench, but Tachibana merely smiled. “Numbers on a board don’t make you a good player,” he said.

He tapped a finger on the left side of his chest, just once.

Even Ryoma relaxed.



***


Their first match was won quickly and in straight sets; a small ripple ran through the crowd when their numbers were reported. Those that had managed to see some of their matches were impressed, others less so.

“A no-name against a crap team-- one of them had to win.”

Shinji raised his fist at that, but a look from Tachibana held it back.

“It’s not worth it,” said Kamio, throwing a disgusted look at the boy who’d spoken-- his shirt had the Kakinoki crest-- and taking a drink from his canteen.

“Who are we playing against next, buchou?” Echizen asked, pressing his can of ponta to his forehead.

“Sunanobori Daini,” replied Tachibana. “They came in third last year.”

Ryoma sighed.

“…does this mean I have to play doubles with Shinji-senpai, again?”



***


People were starting to remember them.

Echizen’s debut in Singles occurred after he was benched against Sunanobori (Fudomine swept them completely) and he took to his new placement like a fish to water.

The Kamio-Uchimura pair needed field practice, and with Akira’s speed and Kyosuke’s netplay, they made short work of Kakinoki’s second doubles. Sakurai and Ishida were in perfect synch, and Echizen in Singles Three completely dominated their captain, Kuki Kiichi.

“Kakinoki was the second seed; I can’t believe I didn’t even get to play,” Shinji mumbled. “Why does Echizen get all the fun? Tachibana-san isn’t being very fair; if he knew we were going to win the first two doubles, why didn’t he put me in Singles Three? I need field practice, too…”

Echizen accepted the towel that Kamio handed him, grinning slightly as Sakurai ruffled his hair and Ishida clapped him on the back.

“Good.” Was all Tachibana said.

And there was that curious feeling again, the tingly sensation in his stomach, but Ryoma squashed it down. “Buchou,” he said, and put his cap back on.



***


7. Rock Face

They were due to play Seigaku that afternoon, and Tachibana was well aware that every eye was on him. He was tapping his pen against his clipboard, rhythmically keeping in time with the beat of his heart.

The line-up.

He had to concentrate on the line-up.

“Tachibana-san--“ Kamio started, but Tachibana stood abruptly from the bench.

“I’m going for a walk,” he said, knowing that they would understand his need for solace. For time alone.

He found a seat near the vendo machines some distance away from their assigned space, absently stroking his chin.

He looked down at his clipboard, mentally running through the matches in his head. /This,/ he thought rather grimly. /Will end at Singles 2./

That was a good thing, wasn’t it? Ending it without needing to run the full five matches was a commendable strategy. Nothing short of brilliant, even.

Except…

“Buchou,” Echizen said, taking a long gulp from his can of Ponta. “Didn’t you want to play against Seigaku’s captain?”

Tachibana sighed inwardly.

Of course, he should’ve expected this. Ryoma was, after all, a boy who had very little use for things like ‘alone time’.

“Aa,” he replied, after a moment’s pause.

“Then why are you putting yourself in Singles Two?” Ryoma asked. “If you break up the Kamio-Ibu pair and distribute one of them into singles, the chances are higher that we’ll reach Singles One.”

Tachibana put his pen down, steeping his fingers in front of him. “This is the District finals,” he said. “Whether or not we win or lose, we’re moving on to the Prefecturals.”

He looked at Ryoma measuringly. “If I manipulate the line-up in order to please myself, what outcome do you think that would have?”

Echizen frowned. “But you wouldn’t lose, anyway,” he said. “Even if you went against Tezuka.”

“I’m not talking about the team win,” Tachibana replied. He swung his pad around so that Echizen could clearly see the names he’d encircled. “Oishi Syuuchiro and Kikumaru Eiji are nationally-ranked players. The doubles team I’m fielding against them is one that actually has a chance of winning.”

Echizen smirked. “I thought you said national rankings were just numbers.”

Tachibana raised a brow. “They are,” he said. “But numbers have power on the courts, and it would be foolish to ignore them.”

He took back his pad and scribbled something down beside Shinji’s name. “Even if they lose, they will only grow stronger from the experience,” he continued. “Do you understand?”

There was a heavy pause as Ryoma mulled it over. “I suppose… you’re saying that letting them play against the Kikumaru-Oishi pair now-- while the match won’t have any real bearing yet-- will drive them to improve.”

Tachibana nodded. “And this will further the entire team’s chances of winning later on,” he finished.

“Hn.” Ryoma blinked at him almost lazily, those large golden eyes glinting. “Doesn’t change the fact that you want to play their captain, though.”

Tachibana almost laughed. Almost.

“No,” he agreed. “But it will give me something to look forward to.”

There was an even heavier pause as Ryoma stared at him, unblinking.

“…I won’t lose today,” he said finally. “We’ll make sure you get to play him at Nationals.”

And as he walked away, he added: “If I don’t beat you before then, of course.”

And this time, Tachibana /did/ smile.

“Mada mada da ne, Echizen.”



***


8. Sheer Drop

Tachibana’s strategy proved sound and they won second doubles, Ishida receiving a nod from Tachibana and powering his way to a forfeit. Seigaku’s Fuji-Kawamura pair were good, there was no doubt about that, but they lost their drive after Ishida’s hadokyuu reared its head.

Echizen frowned slightly; he hadn’t really expected it to be that easy.

Kawamura was a known power player, one of the strongest, but he wasn’t the popular one among the two. No, it was Fuji Syuusuke who was called a genius when it came to singles play, and Ryoma wondered what odd decision had shuffled him into doubles.

“Improvise. Adapt. You know your strengths; make the best of them.” Tachibana was talking to Ibu and Kamio in a low voice, and Echizen sat up straighter.

Time for doubles one.

There was a hush that seemed to descend over the crowd as Seigaku’s ‘golden pair’ stepped forward.

Echizen squinted; aside from the weird hairstyle that one of them was sporting, they didn’t really look like much.

He turned out to be wrong, of course, and he realized this as soon as they won two sets in a row.

Shinji’s kick serve changed the flow of the game, but his spot didn’t work as well when there was another player to factor in. Using that technique meant he’d have to focus on hitting the ball to just one of the players, and the golden pair was far too synched to let him do that. On the other hand, Kamio’s speed play was a good counter to Kikumaru’s acrobatics.

Ryoma realized with a start that their doubles one pair were indeed a good match for this ‘Golden Pair’.

/So /this/ is what nationally-ranked players look like,/ he thought. /This is what we’ll be going up against./

On the court, Oishi returned a volley with an impossible height-- the cheering freshmen called it a moon volley-- and Echizen watched as it landed right on the line.

Kamio and Shinji exchanged a look, and from the determined set of their jaws, Echizen knew they’d fight tooth and nail for this win.

/Adapt,/ he chanted in his head. /Improvise./

The air was fairly crackling with energy as the Kamio-Ibu pair fought valiantly. Echizen held his breath with the rest of the team (except for Tachibana, of course), and he set his jaw when they finally suffered a loss at 5-7.

“That was so damned close,” Mori muttered.

Echizen watched as Kamio and Shinji approached the bench together, coming to a stop in front of their captain. Their heads were hanging low; Kamio’s bright red hair was matted against his forehead and Shinji’s mouth was clamped tightly shut.

“Tachibana-san, I’m so sorry--" the speed player began, his voice unusually high.

“Consider this a win,” Tachibana interrupted him gently, standing to lay a hand on his shoulder. “For you to push a nationally-ranked pair so close to the mark means that you’ve truly improved your game.”

Shinji opened his mouth, but Tachibana quickly overlapped him. “We’ll continue our assessment after the matches,” he said. “But you both learned much today-- ensure that you use it to improve yourselves.”

He turned to Echizen.

“Are you ready?”



***


“Don~!”

Echizen blinked slowly as the force of his opponent’s smash ripped the racquet from his grip. Across the net, Momoshiro Takeshi was raising his fists, an inane smile on his face.

“Point! Seigaku-Fudomine, one game to love!”

“I don’t take it easy on kids,” Momoshiro called over, walking over to the receiving line.

Echizen smirked. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

He gripped his racquet in his right hand, knuckles white against the black grip. “I’ve played far stronger than /you/.”

And his twist serve was a bullet aimed for Momoshiro’s face.



***


Tachibana was on his feet by the time Echizen finished his match, a half-smile on his face.

“He was a power player,” was all he said, and Ryoma nodded.

“Thanks, Ishida-senpai,”” he mumbled, and the upperclassman ruffled his hair.

They watched as Tachibana shrugged off his jacket and picked up his racquet; no one missed Tezuka look up from the opposite bench.

“Singles two! Fudomine’s Tachibana Kippei and Seigaku’s Inui Sadaharu.”

Later, when they lined up to congratulate each other, Tachibana and Tezuka shook hands.

“We’ll see you at the prefecturals,” Kippei said.

“We don’t plan on losing to you again,” Tezuka replied.

“You will, anyway,” Shinji piped up. “We’re not going to let anyone get in our way, and your Oishi-Kikumaru pair just got lucky today and there’s no way I’m going to let that pass another time--"

Kamio kicked him in the shin.


***


9. Detour

“Your doubles play,” Tachibana pronounced one day. “Is terrible.”

Echizen looked up from the crate of dumbbells he was currently hauling away. “Buchou?”

“You pulled off a win with Shinji during the District tournament,” Tachibana said. “But that level of play won’t help during the Prefecturals.”

He stooped down to pick up Shinji’s socks (and did that boy ever actually /wear/ the damned things?), and put them on top of his duffel. “I need everyone to be able to fill in both roles,” he said. “You can’t just concentrate on singles.”

Echizen made a small noise in the back of his throat, considering. “…should I ask Shinji-senpai for more practice time?”

Tachibana tapped a finger to his chin.

“Have you ever heard of the street tennis courts?”


***


“Why do we have to play with Echizen? We go here to have fun, not teach the rookie doubles tricks… I should talk to Tachibana-san and complain about Echizen barging in on our free time; we really shouldn’t have to--"

Echizen hit him on the head with his tennis ball.

It wasn’t entirely an accident.

Kamio hid his snicker behind his hand. “You better watch it, Shinji,” he called out from across the court. “If Tachibana-san comes by and Echizen doesn’t look like he got any better, we’re /all/ in trouble.”

“Echizen, you might want to aim a little higher than that,” Mori advised. He was Kamio’s partner. “You’ll have to adjust your line of sight a little, because Shinji’s taller than you are.”

“A lot taller,” put in Shinji, rubbing the back of his head. “Sometimes I check club attendance for Kamio and I look all over for Ryoma but I can’t find him and I think he’s skipped, but it turns out he was there all along, just too short to be spotte--"

“Shinji!” yelled Kamio, turning red.

Echizen was starting to look a little cross-eyed, and he was afraid the rookie would start /really/ aiming for Shinji.

“Can we just play, already?” Mori pleaded. “There are other doubles pairs waiting for a turn.”

“Fine,” Ryoma said. He tossed the ball up and adjusted accordingly, aiming a perfect twist serve at Mori’s head.

Mori had played against him before, of course, (and Shinji before him), so he moved back a half-step and caught the ball. It wasn’t a perfect return but he managed it, and Echizen ran up to return it.

Only Shinji was there first, and Echizen tripped on his shoelace and ended up sprawled on the cement.

“…ow.”

Kamio sighed. “Mada mada da ne, Echizen?”


***


Their first meeting with Hyotei Gakuen occurred during a practice session very much like the last, and as Echizen and Shinji both dove for a ball, they heard a very loud, obnoxious clapping.

“Oh, very /good/,” said a young man with an over-styled hair cut.

He was seated at the bleachers surrounded by other players wearing the Hyotei crest, a smirk across his attractive features.

Echizen frowned. “And who the hell are you?” he asked, picking himself up off the ground.

“Atobe Keigo,” replied the boy. “And you must be Fudomine’s ace, Echizen Ryoma.”

“If that’s the team that won Districts,” chimed in another member. “We’ll take Prefecturals easy.”

Shinji was already half-way to the bleachers by the time Kamio caught him, and he grabbed the other boy by the hood of his jersey.

“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed.

The boy who’d spoken earlier leaped down from his spot beside Atobe, doing a double somersault while he did so.

“I’ll take you on,” he said. “I don’t even need a partner.”

Slowly, Shinji turned around to look at him, shrugging off Kamio’s hand. “…you’ve got to be kidding,” he said. “Echizen is the worst doubles player ever. If I had to play anyone with him in a real tournament, I’d just forfeit and get it over with.”

“Hey!” Echizen protested. “It’s not like you’re any better.”

He turned to the Hyotei player, pointing his racquet at him. “I’m not interested in playing you,” he said. “But I do want to play your monkey king over there.”

Atobe’s eyes glittered rather dangerously.

“Another time, perhaps,” he said. “Hyotei doesn’t play on courts as… plebian… as this.”

He stood up with a flourish, haughtily tossing his head.

“…weren’t we just playing against Seigaku here last week?”

“Shut up, Choutarou.”

“…hai.”

Echizen shook his head.

“Shinji-senpai,” he said, tapping the other boy on the shoulder. “Let’s play.”


*tbc*