Motivations [Prince of Tennis: Yanagi, Yukimura]
Yanagi, Yukimura, first year, team try-outs. Yukimura knows best. 245 words.
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Motivations
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"You're good," Yukimura accedes. "You're a good player, a strong technical player, and you can predict your opponents moves in ways that surpass almost anyone else I've ever known..."
The second year who has just played and lost the match takes something from Yukimura's words, as though the fact that his opponent is superlative in something makes all the difference in the world to why he lost the match, makes it somewhat more acceptable. Of course, if he'd known Yukimura any longer than this, he would've realised no defeat is acceptable, and no words of comfort that have to be spoken can do anything other than console a defeated spirit.
"But," Yukimura continues, looking Yanagi dead in the eyes, "I don't want you on my team."
Yanagi meets his eyes and nods, the slightest, smallest twitch of his chin. He does not glance around or attempt to have explained to him the reason why team members with two years on Yukimura are standing idly by like helpless children and letting him make all the decisions. He does not ask why they have not taken Yukimura under their wings, as a freshman who needs guidance, but have instead all rushed to camp out under his own shade. Does his rarely seen talent possess the power to overshadow them so completely?
"Feel free to come back," Yukimura says, turning away and waving his hand casually over his shoulder in dismissal, "when you know how to win."
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Motivations
-
"You're good," Yukimura accedes. "You're a good player, a strong technical player, and you can predict your opponents moves in ways that surpass almost anyone else I've ever known..."
The second year who has just played and lost the match takes something from Yukimura's words, as though the fact that his opponent is superlative in something makes all the difference in the world to why he lost the match, makes it somewhat more acceptable. Of course, if he'd known Yukimura any longer than this, he would've realised no defeat is acceptable, and no words of comfort that have to be spoken can do anything other than console a defeated spirit.
"But," Yukimura continues, looking Yanagi dead in the eyes, "I don't want you on my team."
Yanagi meets his eyes and nods, the slightest, smallest twitch of his chin. He does not glance around or attempt to have explained to him the reason why team members with two years on Yukimura are standing idly by like helpless children and letting him make all the decisions. He does not ask why they have not taken Yukimura under their wings, as a freshman who needs guidance, but have instead all rushed to camp out under his own shade. Does his rarely seen talent possess the power to overshadow them so completely?
"Feel free to come back," Yukimura says, turning away and waving his hand casually over his shoulder in dismissal, "when you know how to win."
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