[Nodding again, he steps toward the baseline and draws one of the balls out of his pocket as he does so, idly curling the fingers of his left hand into the familiar green fuzz in anticipation. If he were here to be patronizing, he'd call something across the court to her in these last moments, some motivational tip beginners repeated to themselves like a mantra before the beginning of a match. Keep your eye on the ball, perhaps; as though following a ball with one's eyes was enough to return it.
That thought brings an oddly satisfied smile to his face as he reminisces. The Kikumaru-Oishi pair had thought the same thing (celebrated it, even) in the moments before the Switch was revealed. And how exquisite it had been, rushing the net, pressuring Kikumaru, riding the thrill of knowing that Niou (Yagyuu) was at his back, supporting him, letting him cut loose--
He breathes, and something in his stance shifts, so slight it'd be entirely possible to miss. But this is tennis, and this time it's singles, and that means it's all Yagyuu being drawn out onto the court, the competitive edge and cool analysis that so usually remain concealed behind his congenial exterior.]
Let's have a good match.
[He barely thinks as he bends, releases, arcs his racket around, connects--and smashes a deep serve toward the back corner of her court.]
no subject
That thought brings an oddly satisfied smile to his face as he reminisces. The Kikumaru-Oishi pair had thought the same thing (celebrated it, even) in the moments before the Switch was revealed. And how exquisite it had been, rushing the net, pressuring Kikumaru, riding the thrill of knowing that Niou (Yagyuu) was at his back, supporting him, letting him cut loose--
He breathes, and something in his stance shifts, so slight it'd be entirely possible to miss. But this is tennis, and this time it's singles, and that means it's all Yagyuu being drawn out onto the court, the competitive edge and cool analysis that so usually remain concealed behind his congenial exterior.]
Let's have a good match.
[He barely thinks as he bends, releases, arcs his racket around, connects--and smashes a deep serve toward the back corner of her court.]