Now I face out, I hold out--

[restardom.livejournal.com]

Who: restardom and usedlaserbeam
Where: A tennis court in Goldenrod City
When: Monday, July 25
Summary: Because practice matches are a good time for psychoanalyzing. HOORAY BONDING.
Rating: PG...?
Log:

[ it's never failed; every time she steps onto a court, there's both a surge of nervousness and a tiny thrill that overtakes her... almost like that strong tidal wave of anticipation that happens before she whirls onstage. Practice match, rehearsal, it's as good as the real thing to her. Especially when it's her first time practicing with this particular teammate of Yukimura's-- the one she really doesn't know. But there's something familiar about going into the unknown, too. Familiar and uncertain.

Not that Rise looks nervous, stretching on her side of the court and smiling over at Yagyuu. If nothing else, she'll get better from this. ]

This feels kinda official, somehow.

Comments

[restardom.livejournal.com]

[ Rise regards him for a few seconds, taking the opportunity to catch her breath as she also catches the ball. There's nothing searching in her expression, nothing expectant, just a quiet, stubborn acknowledgment: This is my answer.

In terms of tennis, he's got the upper hand. He's taller, faster, more experienced, stronger, more skilled-- she doesn't need her ability to read the unvoiced things to know that much. Next to Yagyuu - next to any of them - she's tiny, delicate, fragile, inexperienced, weaker.

Physically. She has no doubt that Rikkai's strong, and she respects them, knows they've carried the weight of countless victories on their shoulders, how hard they fought to win this time. And Yagyuu, she suspects, carries the additional burden of that mask for whatever reason, keeping things repressed until provided the proper catalyst. What she's seen of him today was both unexpected and unsurprising, because she's seen the sort of things people hide, she's hidden them herself.

And eight of them had hidden them until their Shadows said otherwise, and eight of them had faced formidable obstacles to save the entire world.

She might not have their stamina, but she can last longer than most girls her age, more than most idols. Something like this certainly won't keep her down (you don't know true exhaustion or pain until you've faced everything ripped from inside of you, welcomed it back, changed it into your own power, and even then, she'd stood back up and told the others to get ready), and since Yagyuu had so kindly extracted the part of her that she rarely showed to many people...

She's not releasing the tension now. It's like the burst of adrenaline that the stage gives her, the music blending with her movements, except now her only beat is the thundering one in her chest, the one she can hear, and Rise exhales softly, backs up, and serves.

From this point on, she won't stop moving; slowing down, stopping, not giving it her all, it means she's given up, and she won't. Not until he ends it. ]

[usedlaserbeam.livejournal.com]

[There, at last, this is the game he'd wanted when he'd first approached the topic of a match. She wanted to probe his defenses and he wanted to test her mettle, and the only reasonable way to accomplish both was like this, through tennis, because this time Yagyuu is in control and these are his boundaries, his standards, his rules. Someday, he knows, he may find their positions flipped--set off-guard in some endeavor or another where it's Rise's place to shine and his charge to do everything he can just to keep up--but this isn't a conversation they could've had in words, and that in itself was something he could only express through the game they're playing now.

This is who he is, how he plays, why he strives, how he wins. And she's shown him, too, that there's more to her than she lets on, that there's something worth seeking beneath the facade he'd otherwise deflect out of sheer habit. And someday, if she truly wants to see perfection on the court, she'll watch him at doubles with his partner by his side, when everything makes sense no matter whose face he's wearing, and he finds himself feeling truly invincible in those perfect moments of serve and return and attack.

But this isn't doubles, and she isn't at his level, and no matter how good of an impression she's doing of Kaidou Kaoru (that's who it was, that tenacity, that perseverance), the physical reality is that she's not going to be able to keep up if he drags this match out beyond the limits of her stamina. Calling the game in the middle would only humiliate her, burning the bridges he's already gone to such careful lengths to forge. So he'll have to beat her (not that he ever planned to do anything different), soon but not fast, taking the points at exactly the right moments so her endurance and pride will both hold out until the end.

It's a daunting task, but Yagyuu once accepted the challenge of making a gifted defeat look like a crushing one, and the precision necessary for this one is nothing compared to the careful calculation it took to convince Akaya that his senpai had actually been up against a foe he couldn't handle.

And so he begins taking games, carefully and methodically, hiding his aims behind seemingly intense rallies (that are gradually growing shorter and shorter before he "manages" to score--ah, but that could simply be your endurance wearing out, couldn't it, Kujikawa-san?) and finishing shots to the back corners. Better to take points off shots that were just a little too fast or too far for her to reach, rather than using the Laser. His fingers itch to grip the racket, his arms ache to let it fly, but that, too, is part of the greater psychological game, and he'll use it when he needs to--sparingly, when the setup isn't just perfect but a perfect she's seen before, and it's easier to conceal just how many times he could've unleashed it before now.]

[restardom.livejournal.com]

[ she's seen it twice-- enough to go on, to commit to memory, and to know that, for all intents and purposes, she's forced to dance to whatever bizarre and intricately coordinated tune he's fashioning. He could use that Laser of his at any time, and she's constantly aware of his movements, braced for a failed attempt to counter when he retreated to the baseline.

But Yagyuu is finding other ways to chip away at her, things she could have worked on, balls she could have hit if she'd been a little faster, a little more poised to react, instead of falling victim to a rallying pattern. Each missed ball is added to a growing list of things she'll have to practice later-- it's no different from making a mistake during rehearsal or a shoot, making note of it and striving to correct it so it didn't happen again. Not that it makes her any less frustrated, but she doggedly continues, hitting back any balls she can reach, and maybe she's beginning to feel like she's running an uphill marathon, and maybe she's wondering how long they've been at this, and maybe she realizes what he's doing, some part of her, that the differences mean he's gracefully drawing it to a close, and maybe she looks a little pained - no, not good enough, it's embarrassing to miss these, and trying just isn't good enough against someone of his caliber - but Rise plays on. Sometimes suspicious, sometimes second-guessing herself, always stubborn.

And when it does end, she won't allow for collapse. ]

[usedlaserbeam.livejournal.com]

[And though she may not realize it through her frustration, there's something in her continued tenacity that stands out (not quite impresses him, but certainly forces him to make note of it) in the last minutes and points of the match; losing may be unforgivable according to their team's code, and Yagyuu in particular has very little tolerance for those who inevitably are forced to concede defeat, but to see this girl hold out to the very last, refusing to surrender when this has been a lost battle since before she ever set foot on the court--yes, there's something admirable in that, and it's an option that many might not have taken.

But she loses, as expected, and his win is impeccable, as predicted. And he's tired, of course, but not even close to the way that she must be; his is that sort of delicious creeping exhaustion that comes from an excellent effort and an accomplishment to show for it, the warm fade of adrenaline into a comfortable, content relaxation.

(This is the part when he's supposed to retreat to the stands, wipe his face with a towel, climb the steps to his seat and bask in that familiar, fond afterglow of victory as his teammates take their turns at battle. Except this isn't an official match, and he still has things to take care of.)

Heading immediately for his backpack, he replaces his racket carefully inside it and produces two bottles of water, returning to hand one to Rise with a firmness that invites no protest. She's going to feel this match tomorrow, and quite possibly a few days after that--more than enough to raise questions from anyone that cares to pay attention--and there's no helping that. It's the least he can do, to see that the other concerns and considerations are attended to.]

Traditionally, we ought to have shaken hands immediately following the conclusion of the match, but I think this time it can stand to wait awhile, don't you?

[restardom.livejournal.com]

[ it's over before she knows it, and she has to rely on automatic motions to tuck her racket under her arm, inspecting her palm with an almost detached glance. There's a faint line of ridges there, testament of just how hard she was gripping the handle, but she relaxes her fingers, just in time to be handed the bottle.

She's exhausted, and much like the way she'd known she was going to feel the very first practice session with Yukimura and running with ankle weights, Rise is already envisioning tomorrow and how much it'll hinder her usual pace. Especially since she'll still need to practice. She can't even relax in this tiredness, the way she would after a successful dungeon run or a victim saved. If anything, the feeling now reminds her of how helpless she'd felt, knees pressed to the ground and gasping for air in a fog-clouded world and straining to find what she knew was there-- ultimately, she'd been useless. The team had to withdraw, because their support couldn't decently guide them when the world itself was making her feel sick, obscuring her senses.

It's that same helplessness she feels now, without as much distress, but the frustration was still present. Not a point scored, and nothing to show for it but wobbly legs and shallow breathing and defeat.

No, she corrects herself, glancing up at Yagyuu, she'd gotten something from this. Motivation, for one. Experience. And a better look at Yagyuu Hiroshi.

It still hurts, though, and she can't lie to herself and say that it doesn't.

Rise takes a moment to settle, and once again, her eyes are dark with some unvoiced thought-- but then she lifts her head and her hand comes up with it, extending towards him once she's shifted the bottle to the same side as the racket. She may look like she's three seconds away from collapsing, but her knees don't buckle and she's still upright when she speaks. ]

Nah. It's a little late now, but I don't really feel like keeping you waiting, Yagyuu-kun. [ she'd done enough of that on the court until he'd drawn out what he wanted. ]

[usedlaserbeam.livejournal.com]

I appreciate it, Kujikawa-san. Having caused a fair amount of it myself.

[And it's surprisingly not tennis he's thinking of as he takes her hand and shakes it with the firmness and respect due any worthy opponent at the end of a match; no, she showed him precisely what he wanted to see, and so he'll permit this much of a concession in the aftermath. If she takes it to mean the match, then so be it--just one more subtle misdirection in play--but Yagyuu's mind is nowhere near this court or this girl or even this city. At the moment he's spinning back to a park bench in Cherrygrove, a chill evening breeze, a partner falling apart against his dampening shoulder.

I hope I didn't keep you waiting, Niou-kun...

Six months to the day. And Kujikawa Rise somehow, inexplicably, in the middle of it. He may not know what she did, the lengths to which the history and attachment run, but he arrived to find his partner covered in a spiderweb of cracks, one tap away from shattering--but intact. He'd had Yukimura, he'd had Akaya, he'd even (surprisingly) had Fuji Syuusuke. And somewhat perplexingly, he'd had Kujikawa Rise. And it had been enough to hold him until Yagyuu could finally catch up.

That alone was enough to draw Yagyuu's attention, but it wasn't enough to win his respect. Not until this match, when he'd been able to see her earn it for herself.

He knows she's looking for answers, whatever ones she can manage to draw out of him, and so he'll give her that one and let her ponder it. That much genuine honesty won't hurt at this point. And if anything, it'll be just enough of a gain to keep her looking for more. Normally he might not be nearly so generous with a tacit invitation to continue prodding at his masks, but at this point it's simple reinforcement. Show me who you are, and perhaps you'll see some of me.

(Assuming she's willing to work for it, of course.)]

You played well. It was a good match.

[restardom.livejournal.com]

[ that's almost an odd thing to say, but if there's one thing Rise's learned, it's that this person doesn't typically make pointless remarks. And again, she's reminded of Naoto (except she knows all the ways to fluster her best friend), who never says anything that doesn't have some sort of meaning or purpose to it.

And maybe it's just that she's had plenty of experience with that sort of thing or that she's always remembered phrasing, word choices, the things that told her how to respond-- or maybe it's the knowledge that he didn't keep her waiting in this match at all. From the feel of it, he'd always been ready to react. But Rise can assume that he's talking about something else, and from the thoughtful way she releases his hand after a firm shake of her own, she's going to be thinking about it when she's taken care of everything else.

'Everything else' starting with making it back on weak legs, but she's already twisting the lid off her bottle. Regardless of his methods, she can't bring herself to regret this match. At last, she feels like she's starting to get it. At the very least, she's got a more solidified opinion on the mysterious gentleman now. ]

I've got a lot to work on, but you know... [ and she takes a deep, steadying breath. ] I'm gonna make sure I play even better next time. Thanks for the match, Yagyuu-kun.

[usedlaserbeam.livejournal.com]

[Another opponent, from a different team, might fill in the moment that followed those words with a laugh of encouragement, a lighthearted review of the match, friendly commentary on the things she'd done well and the places she still had yet to improve. And surely there are people in the world like that, but Yagyuu isn't one of them, and attempting to open that venue of discussion after the match they've just had only seems ignoble and discourteous.

Let that sort of instruction come from Yukimura, with his unfailing ability to draw out the best of a player and hone it into excellence. For now, Yagyuu's expertise is best put to use by being a rival--something to set her sights on, something to pursue. She's got a long way to go if she thinks she's going to be able to take him head-on when he's playing at his best, but he doesn't doubt now that she has it in her to try.

Yukimura once said that people become stronger in equal measure to the defeat they've endured. It's a Rikkai sentiment. And now he can believe she honestly understands that.

On the other hand, the match is over, and it's come time to sink carefully back into their respective roles--which means it's a gentleman's next duty to see the lady home, if only to make sure she doesn't collapse on the side of the road along the way.

...Whoops.]

I was pleased to oblige, and I'll certainly look forward to your next challenge. For now, though, let me walk you home.

[Funny how neither of those two remarks are questions.]

[restardom.livejournal.com]

[ not even close to a question, is it? Rise would raise an eyebrow, if she hadn't been settling back into the more familiar part of herself - the one most people know the best, anyway - and so instead she merely smiles and peeks up at him through her lashes.

It's sad that she counts still standing as one of her great accomplishments of the day, but again, worth the opportunity. ]

Who could say no to that?

[ no, really. She doesn't think refusing is even an option. ]