Prince of Tennis: Ibu Shinji, 080: Why?
Title: Questions
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Ibu Shinji (mention of Echizen Ryoma, Tachibana Kippei, Kamio Akira, Ishida Tetsu, Uchimura Kyousuke, Sakurai Masaya, Mori Tatsunori.)
Prompt: 080: Why?
Word Count: 519
Rating: G
Summary: Shinji rambles on paper, and he has so many questions….
Author's Notes: This is a departure in style for me. It’s not a fic so much as it is a character-written piece, like an essay or maybe even a journal entry. Anyone who has read or watched Shinji’s journal in tenipuriu will have seen something like this before. In this piece, Shinji is 13.
Main table can be found here
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There are many things that I do not understand. Many things that I question, many things I want to know the whys and wherefores about. In this world…there’s so much that I want to know, and so much more that I’m not sure if I should know about.
I want to know everything about tennis. I want to know the mechanics of the game. I would like to attempt every move, at least once. I would like to find my own style, something that can be pointed at as something purely Ibu Shinji, and no one else’s. I want to know why people play, why Echizen sometimes has a haunted, or maybe hunted, look on his face when he serves. I want to know why Tachibana-san gets that same expression sometimes. I want to know why a game that brings me so much pleasure can bring others so much pain.
I want to know about my friends. I want to know why Tetsu feels the need to cover his head at all times. I’ve seen him without, and he is handsome no matter what. Why Akira is always listening to music; even after all of these years, he has never told me. Why Kyousuke always wears that hat, pulled so low that it’s hard to see his eyes. Why Masaya, why Tatsunori are always laughing, even when they are crying.
I want to know about myself. I want to know why I have such a hard time keeping my thoughts to myself. Why whenever I try to hide, I am not allowed to. Why Akira and Tetsu keep trying to drag me out of my shell. Why Tachibana-san is suddenly interested in helping them. I want to know why I get berated for my mumbling, and then when I manage to stop it, why everyone asks me why I’ve gone so quiet.
I want to know why I think about people in different ways than most of the world. Why instead of noticing An-chan’s eyes, I’m noticing her brother’s. Why I often want to be the one that is held, not holding, and why I can almost feel Tetsu as the one holding me. Why it is that my friends can talk about their crushes, and I feel ashamed, thinking of mine.
Why do I have all these questions, thoughts, dreams? Why do I wake up in the middle of the night feeling alone and wanting to cry, but never crying? Why do I feel this hollow ache in my chest, a hole that I wonder if it will ever be filled? And…why do I want to fill it, and with what?
Why am I writing down thoughts that will never be voiced, questions that will never be answered? Why will I keep this locked away with the rest of my secrets, never spilling from my lips, as much as everyone thinks I don’t have any secrets? I do. I’ve swallowed a lot of secrets, and no one knows why. I don’t even know why, myself.
Why don’t I even know what the questions I should be asking are?
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Ibu Shinji (mention of Echizen Ryoma, Tachibana Kippei, Kamio Akira, Ishida Tetsu, Uchimura Kyousuke, Sakurai Masaya, Mori Tatsunori.)
Prompt: 080: Why?
Word Count: 519
Rating: G
Summary: Shinji rambles on paper, and he has so many questions….
Author's Notes: This is a departure in style for me. It’s not a fic so much as it is a character-written piece, like an essay or maybe even a journal entry. Anyone who has read or watched Shinji’s journal in tenipuriu will have seen something like this before. In this piece, Shinji is 13.
Main table can be found here
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
There are many things that I do not understand. Many things that I question, many things I want to know the whys and wherefores about. In this world…there’s so much that I want to know, and so much more that I’m not sure if I should know about.
I want to know everything about tennis. I want to know the mechanics of the game. I would like to attempt every move, at least once. I would like to find my own style, something that can be pointed at as something purely Ibu Shinji, and no one else’s. I want to know why people play, why Echizen sometimes has a haunted, or maybe hunted, look on his face when he serves. I want to know why Tachibana-san gets that same expression sometimes. I want to know why a game that brings me so much pleasure can bring others so much pain.
I want to know about my friends. I want to know why Tetsu feels the need to cover his head at all times. I’ve seen him without, and he is handsome no matter what. Why Akira is always listening to music; even after all of these years, he has never told me. Why Kyousuke always wears that hat, pulled so low that it’s hard to see his eyes. Why Masaya, why Tatsunori are always laughing, even when they are crying.
I want to know about myself. I want to know why I have such a hard time keeping my thoughts to myself. Why whenever I try to hide, I am not allowed to. Why Akira and Tetsu keep trying to drag me out of my shell. Why Tachibana-san is suddenly interested in helping them. I want to know why I get berated for my mumbling, and then when I manage to stop it, why everyone asks me why I’ve gone so quiet.
I want to know why I think about people in different ways than most of the world. Why instead of noticing An-chan’s eyes, I’m noticing her brother’s. Why I often want to be the one that is held, not holding, and why I can almost feel Tetsu as the one holding me. Why it is that my friends can talk about their crushes, and I feel ashamed, thinking of mine.
Why do I have all these questions, thoughts, dreams? Why do I wake up in the middle of the night feeling alone and wanting to cry, but never crying? Why do I feel this hollow ache in my chest, a hole that I wonder if it will ever be filled? And…why do I want to fill it, and with what?
Why am I writing down thoughts that will never be voiced, questions that will never be answered? Why will I keep this locked away with the rest of my secrets, never spilling from my lips, as much as everyone thinks I don’t have any secrets? I do. I’ve swallowed a lot of secrets, and no one knows why. I don’t even know why, myself.
Why don’t I even know what the questions I should be asking are?