[ her muscles are already protesting as the rally keeps on, and maybe it's reckless to pour this much into a tennis match, but it's in her nature to push herself when necessary. And having Souji as a leader had taught her, over the span of that memorable year, that it didn't matter what you did, what was at stake, you didn't half-ass it. Even races at school festivals. He had pushed himself then, and Rise had understood.
She'd fought, maybe not in sports, not before Yukimura had started teaching her, but she'd stood there, vision blurred, breathing harshly, unable to straighten, and the first thing she'd felt when Chie had delivered a well-meaning "But you can't handle it!" hadn't been fear or exhaustion or trepidation.
It had been anger. Yes, she damn well could, and she was going to, and she had. She was going to fight. She was going to push herself to the point of collapse, she was going to fight her way back to her fans, agency opinions be damned, she was going to make sure her team ended this, and they'd all fought like hell to ensure that.
Rise knows subtlety, and she knows how to humor and when to be tactful, but she also knows how to fight, after everything. And Yagyuu now isn't coaxing her to fight, he's demanding it from her. It's manipulation, she knows this, and she knows that he could end this at any time, but he's not, and as long as he keeps slamming the ball back at her, she's going to keep meeting it. She's not above seizing risks.
And he's been hiding quite a bit, too, so that she'd been initially surprised when she'd first met him. Niou's partner hadn't quite matched up with pristine and put-together gentleman, but she takes in the sight of him now, racing to keep her on her toes, less pristine, more powerful, and she thinks that she prefers him this way. She doesn't feel like she's possibly treading on his toes, she doesn't feel obligated, it's just the desire to win against someone who's gone and pushed her this much-- and that's new to her in this match, because she's used to feeling competitive in the idol industry, she's used to the battles, zeroing in on weak spots and almost ruthlessly exploiting them, because that had been for the team, for whoever they were trying to save. They'd needed to win. They'd only grown fiercer after Nanako had been taken to the hospital.
But here? Playing tennis?
She's never played this hard before, unsmiling, perspiration drenching her bangs, eyes alight with some kind of fierce tenacity, and adapting, always adapting, because adapting means survival and victory, and that part of her had never changed. Of course, she still has to think on her movements, correcting them when she has the chance to, making the pivots sharper, the impact better; she still needs work.
But this time when the Laser flies her way, she's already turned in that direction, racket moving towards it.
... And she still misses by a long shot, which doesn't come as a surprise, but it's an additional sting that has her eyebrows furrowing and her grip on the handle turning white-knuckled as she staggers to a halt.
no subject
She'd fought, maybe not in sports, not before Yukimura had started teaching her, but she'd stood there, vision blurred, breathing harshly, unable to straighten, and the first thing she'd felt when Chie had delivered a well-meaning "But you can't handle it!" hadn't been fear or exhaustion or trepidation.
It had been anger. Yes, she damn well could, and she was going to, and she had. She was going to fight. She was going to push herself to the point of collapse, she was going to fight her way back to her fans, agency opinions be damned, she was going to make sure her team ended this, and they'd all fought like hell to ensure that.
Rise knows subtlety, and she knows how to humor and when to be tactful, but she also knows how to fight, after everything. And Yagyuu now isn't coaxing her to fight, he's demanding it from her. It's manipulation, she knows this, and she knows that he could end this at any time, but he's not, and as long as he keeps slamming the ball back at her, she's going to keep meeting it. She's not above seizing risks.
And he's been hiding quite a bit, too, so that she'd been initially surprised when she'd first met him. Niou's partner hadn't quite matched up with pristine and put-together gentleman, but she takes in the sight of him now, racing to keep her on her toes, less pristine, more powerful, and she thinks that she prefers him this way. She doesn't feel like she's possibly treading on his toes, she doesn't feel obligated, it's just the desire to win against someone who's gone and pushed her this much-- and that's new to her in this match, because she's used to feeling competitive in the idol industry, she's used to the battles, zeroing in on weak spots and almost ruthlessly exploiting them, because that had been for the team, for whoever they were trying to save. They'd needed to win. They'd only grown fiercer after Nanako had been taken to the hospital.
But here? Playing tennis?
She's never played this hard before, unsmiling, perspiration drenching her bangs, eyes alight with some kind of fierce tenacity, and adapting, always adapting, because adapting means survival and victory, and that part of her had never changed. Of course, she still has to think on her movements, correcting them when she has the chance to, making the pivots sharper, the impact better; she still needs work.
But this time when the Laser flies her way, she's already turned in that direction, racket moving towards it.
... And she still misses by a long shot, which doesn't come as a surprise, but it's an additional sting that has her eyebrows furrowing and her grip on the handle turning white-knuckled as she staggers to a halt.
Dammit! ]