Love-Game [A Prince of Tennis FanFiction]

[02] Practice & Perfection

Chapter 2: Practice and Perfection

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After Echizen’s bloody match, I realized (rather late might I add) that his match was the decisive match. They beat the other school because of an injured first year. I guess the Seigaku boys do have quite the spirit. I wonder what happened to mine...

Feeling suddenly energized, I wander over to a set of empty tennis courts, but not after literally walking into a really good looking guy. And even though he’s really good looking (like a prince), I can’t help but wonder why he’s smiling at me like that. And is it just me or are his eyes closed?

“So sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” I try to smile back, but he’s just so weird!

“It’s alright.” He’s still smiling. And he hasn’t moved an inch. What is going on here?

As I search for a way to escape, I notice he’s wearing a Seigaku jersey. Wait a minute. He goes to Seigaku?! I didn’t know we had such weird people at our school. Then I remember. I saw him. He was in doubles 2. He did the weird sliding shot. What was it called again? Tsubame Gaeshi.

His smile widens and he turns to leave. “Wait. Can I ask a favor?” he turns, looking curious, though I have no idea how I knew that since he’s still smiling.

“Sure, what might that be?”

It’s not he would say no, right? I’ll just ask. “Would you ... play a game of tennis with me?” His smile falters. Is he shocked? I hate how I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

His smile widens in a rather creepy way, or maybe that’s just me. “Sure”

Almost immediately, I feel a grin coming on. I quickly stop it before it reaches my face.  Only a slight smile is visible. “Thanks! Oh, I forgot to bring my racket, do you think I could borrow one of yours?”

He smiles and turns to the direction of what I assume are the practice courts. Now I just have to make him use that Tsubame Gaeshi or whatever it’s called. That shouldn’t be too hard right?

When we finally get to the tennis courts he hands me a black and gold racket from his rather large tennis bag. He also produces several tennis balls.

We both stretch quickly before taking our positions. He tosses me a ball. “Ladies first” I almost laugh. He did not just say that with that creepy smile. I catch the familiar ball and take my position at the service line. Ready, set, go.

My all too normal serve spins to him at an average speed which he returns easily with a slight frown. Oh my goodness. He’s frowning. And for a spit second, if not less, I could’ve sworn his eyes opened. They were very blue.

“15-love” The call brings me back to reality. I lost the first point. I am definitely rusty. Sigh. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.

Sighing, I return to service position. This time, I won’t lose.

Pause. There it is. My fighting spirit.

The ball drops but I barely notice. What is wrong with me? It’s just tennis. I’m pretty sure I don’t like the stupid sport, so why is my heart racing? Why do I want to win so badly against a stranger?

“Are you alright?” He’s at the net, and he looks concerned. I nod and pick up the ball. “I’m fine”

He returns to his position still looking concerned. I serve the ball right this time; a bit faster than the last. He isn’t impressed. The ball comes flying back at a rather alarming speed. Was the ball always this fast?

Before I realized, the ball had already left my reach and hit the fence behind me. I’m beyond rusty. His frown deepens. “30-love” he pauses “Do you not play tennis?” I sigh. I can’t believe it’s come to this.

“I do...” I prepare to serve again before I realize. If the ball was fast when he returned it, then my serve must’ve been at a snail’s pace to him! Never mind, I’m a lot rustier than I thought.

I take a deep breath. Come on Akari, you can do this. When the racket finally connects with the ball, I feel like I’ve made a huge accomplishment. This one is definitely faster, or so I thought. Before it hit the net.

I couldn’t hold back a frustrated groan. Why isn’t this working?! I’m supposed to be good at this! Angry and frustrated, I throw the ball in the air. I will not lose. The racket hits the ball and it goes flying toward him. His eyes open. They really are blue.

I don’t know how I’m keeping up with this, but the ball just changed. Why is it heading for his face? He avoids the strange ball by barely a centimeter. Shock is etched on his pretty face.

What just happened?