Black Rain, a Prince of Tennis fanfic

[Sae-chan]

Name: Black Rain, a Prince of Tennis fanfic
Length: 1151 words, complete
Genre: General, Angst
Warnings: None
Rating: All
Notes: To be honest, I'm really nervous about this one. This is a Prince of Tennis fanfiction, because I have no experience in writing my own story. It's a songfic (Black Rain by Yoshihisa Fujita, which I recommend, by the way). I guess you can read this as a non-Prince of Tennis fanfic, but it may or may not make sense. Features Fuji Syuusuke and Echizen Ryoma. Tell me how my writing is, okay?

Thoughts are not italicized so they won't be confused with lyrics.

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Don't stop the rain

I smile gently in the black rain

They stare at each other, both pairs of eyes unwilling to relent. The first pair is golden and unblinking, and like a cat's they scan their opponent; they hold no secret in their objective, to defeat. The second pair is sapphire and sparkling; they hold a certain ethereal glow to them, and are like the clearest sky in the heavens.

The second person smiles suddenly, and the first person frowns; his smile is dangerous, like the smile of a predator trying to disarm their prey. There is the trace of a smirk on the second's lips, as if he knows exactly what is going to happen. I'll play with you, are the words unspoken, and then I'll crush you.

No, the first's eyes reply. You will not be the one dominating.

Those blue - those inhumanly blue - eyes sparkle in amusement. "Let's have a good game, ne?" he speaks the first words between the two.

The other nods, and thrusts out his hand. Shake hands, the golden eyes speak for themselves. It is the only kindness I'll show you.

The predator's smile widens as he takes the handshake. You'll be my prey, he warns.

Sometimes, the golden eyes seem to say, the prey emerges victorious.

Don't heal my pain

I will show you the me no one has ever known

He bounces the ball against the ground three times. It's only another game, he tells himself, but something doesn't settle. There's something about this game that will be different from all of his other ones, he can tell.

The first bounce. For the game.

The second bounce. For the players.

The third and last bounce. For the winner.

He catches the ball in his left hand and settles into his serving position. He can practically feel the jittery excitement of his nerves. They can't be - won't - calm.

He throws the ball high into the air.

Come at me without fearing defeat

But I won't let you surpass me in the match

They are no longer playing. They are the match, the ball, the rallies. It seems unreal; they keep no track of time, and only the ball matters. Only the ball matters.

Neither will relent; there is a certain inhumanness around them. The first is quick and agile like a cat, returning balls in almost impossible ways. The second is calm but unpredictable like the wind, hitting shots with heavenly moves.

They play on, and on, and on.

The only thing I wish for is a trace of that boundless

And, at times, sinfully perfect strength

His pale blond locks hang over his eyes, but he brushes them away. They are already soaking wet from the rain, just like his clothes and every part of his body. But he barely feels the cold - maybe it's the numbness, maybe it's not - his mind, his soul is above this - there's just himself, his opponent, and the match.

He cannot feel anymore - it feels as if he is looking at his body from outside the court, and yet is still controlling it. Or maybe he's not, maybe he's not controlling his body, and it's acting on its own. Is tennis an instinct now? He wonders.

Glancing at his opponent, he can see - or he knows, perhaps it's both - that the other is feeling the same way. But it's not the same - the other is not completely detached from his body - there, the other just shivered.

So they are not alike, after all.

Don't stop the rain

The wildness in my heart opens its eyes

He can feel something emerging from himself; it's not unpleasant. He likes it, this utter wildness. It is like a beast. So he starts to play like a beast.

I like this, he decides as he returns another ball - it's not myself, this is completely different - but I like it.

And so he plays.

Don't heal my pain

I want to see the prank this entwining time holds

He stares at the other, almost unable to move - and yet he does - this is no time for staring, his body urges as it moves on its own, but he doesn't listen.

The other’s like a beast, like a cat - and yet, he's not completely - he's still playing, but yet not -

I can't match him, he realizes.

But strangely enough, he can - he knows - he can accept that.

Don't stop the rain

My parched heart searches for an oasis

He reaches, he reaches for something he doesn't know. I can find it, I can grasp it -

He grasps it, and suddenly, he changes, and it no longer feels as if he's controlling his body. His body moves on its own, and he can only watch, feel, experience it.

It's like a dream, he thinks.

Don't heal my pain

I will show you the me that no one has ever known

He knows. He knows that he cannot match his kouhai, this first year, this boy from America. He simply knows.

There is something about this boy which he cannot describe; a fierceness and boldness which cannot be matched. He smiles; not one of those fake smiles which has been so accustomed to doing, but a genuine smile.

It has been entirely too long since he has done one, and to think, this freshman is the cause.

The thrill rises as I clash against

That intensely concentrated form

The stirring birds notice

That a new storm draws near

He loves this thrill, this amazing power which surges through his veins. He cannot be defeated now, he is sure of that. But he can't stop now, he won't stop now. He hasn't had enough of this.

Are you done yet? he asks this power, and it answers, Not yet.

Don't stop the rain

I smile gently in the black rain

Don't heal my pain

A moment resembling delight races

Don't stop the rain

My awakening is released into the streaking lightning

Don't heal my pain

I will show you the me that no one has ever known

Fuji Syuusuke collapses onto his knees, for he cannot match that strength. He gasps for breath, sure that he has been defeated.

"Mada mada da ne, Fuji-sempai." Those words echo in his mind - has he stopped saying them yet? - he can't concentrate -

There is silence, except for the rain pouring from the heavens and his own uneven gasps of breath.

Don't stop the rain

The wildness in my heart opens its eyes

Don't heal my pain

I want to see the prank his entwining time holds

Don't stop the rain

My awakening is released into the streaking lightning

Don't heal my pain

I will show you the me no one has ever known
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*slams head on desk* Okay, that went worse than I had expected. And it had a really confusing end, too. *slams head on desk again* Just tell me how I did, okay?

Kouhai = a person who is younger than you, especially in groups such as schools

Sempai = a person who is older than you, especially in groups such as schools

Mada mada da ne = Ryoma's motto. "[You're] Simply not there yet" is the Jap. translation.

[Hana Ryuuzaki]

[font="palatino Linotype"]Wow, I really like this!!
Can't wait for more! ^_^[/font]

[Sae-chan]

Ooh! Really? ^^ Glad you like it. I was really nervous that people wouldn't like my story... Maybe I'll post some other ones later. ^^