Captain, My Captain (Death Note/Tenipuri - oneshoti)
Captain, My Captain
by aishuu
A Tennis no Oujisama/Death Note Crossover
Disclaimer: Konomi owns Tenipuri, Ooba and Obata own Death Note.
Spoilers: None really!
Note: Yes, I broke down and wrote this. It's a prelude for both series. Thanks to arithion for looking it over.
1.
Yukimura Seiichi had entered Rikkai knowing very well that the tennis program was extremely competitive. He was a good player, despite his frail appearance, and wanted to prove his talents against the best. Someday he dreamed of become a professional.
He, like many first years, dreamt of setting the world on fire with his skills. He would become a regular despite his years, defying convention with his passion and abilities. He would inspire others to follow him, his talent winning him the admiration of his peers as he overcame all obstacles before him.
He knew, with the arrogance of the innocent, that he was going to change the world.
Then he met the captain.
2.
On the first day of practice, Yukimura sat by his closest friend, Yagyuu Hiroshi. They had come from the same elementary school, and played tennis together at the same neighborhood courts.
The first years were arranged in a semi-circle, listening to the vice captain explain the rules and regulations. He spoke precisely, with a slightly cynical look in his eyes. "Some of you may have dreams about becoming a first-year regular, but that won't happen. We don't select new regulars until the summer."
"We do, however, encourage you to make us change our minds," said a soft voice from behind them.
They all craned their head to see who had spoken, but the figure was standing with his back to the sun, creating a halo of light and overshadowing his features.
"Buchou!" the vice captain's posture immediately turned more respectful. "I wasn't expecting you today."
"I delegated to one of the vice presidents. I wanted to be here," he said. He came around, and they could see the rather handsome young man wearing a regular's uniform. "I want to welcome you, and encourage you to do your best. The work will be hard, but I hope you'll find it rewarding. Those unwilling to devote themselves to our goal should leave now and save us all the trouble." No one moved, and the captain nodded with satisfaction. "Good. Let's work together to claim the national title," he said.
Then he smiled, and Yukimura developed his first case of idol worship.
3.
It wasn't love, not the kind of oh-my-god-I-want-to-be-your-one-and-only feeling, but an endless fascination that made Yukimura seek out everything he could find on the captain. No one on the team ever called him by his name, merely "buchou," and that was part of his legend. There was just something about him that drew others, and Yukimura was thoroughly caught in his thrall.
He wasn't alone. Another classmate, Yanagi Renji, seemed to feel the same compulsion. Together they would carefully pump their seniors for information, drinking in tales of the captain. It wasn't hard to find people willing to tell them about their captain. His fan following was the largest in the entire school.
"Aside from captaining the tennis club, he's also the president of the student body and head of the math club!"
"He's nationally ranked as a singles player! He won the Junior Nationals last year, and should win this year as well!"
"Did you know that he's the top student in the school?"
"Even though Rikkai lost nationals last year, he still has an unbeaten record! They just didn't get to singles one."
"I heard he received over 100 chocolates last Valentines."
"He was vice captain last year, but really he ran the club. Mouri-buchou always did what he said."
"He's brilliant. He's been helping his father on police cases - I heard that he helped find evidence to convict Masae Ichirou!"
The stories that were told about the captain's brilliance and talents permeated the school like rain. It was natural as breathing, and people all loved him. Yukimura knew that someday, the school would be known as where the captain had graduated from.
4.
He would have liked to believe that the captain took a personal interest in him, but the captain wasn't that kind of person. He was wonderfully unbiased, delivering his attention wherever it was needed. Yukimura became one of his concerns when he defeated a second year regular.
The match had been one of his better ones. Yukimura was the strongest first year player, although Yanagi and another boy, Sanada, were close on his heels. He wanted to surpass them both, and that meant showcasing his strength. Rikkai did not accept those who lost; Yukimura was determined, then, to always win.
He could feel the captain's eyes as he accepted the bottle of water from Jackal, another of his peers. He turned to smile at him, to seek his approval, but instead there was a hardness in his captain's eyes. A slender hand motioned for him to come over.
"You shouldn't play with them like that," his captain said, the censure gentle.
Yukimura felt like his heart had been ripped out, stomped on and tossed back to him. He knew his captain was disappointed in him. "I'm sorry," he said, his head hanging slightly.
The wind started to blow, attempting to muss his captain's light brown hair. Somehow it still remained perfect. "Don't be sorry, guilt gets you nowhere. You're one of the most talented students in your year, and you should set an example for those who don't have your abilities."
"I'll do my best, captain!" Yukimura resolved to throughly demolish his next opponent.
His captain nodded, and his eyes seemed to shine as he easily deciphered what Yukimura was thinking. "You don't have to destroy your opponents, but there's no reason for you to be soft." A slight smile curved his captain's face, and Yukimura would have done anything to keep it there, or maybe even make it grow. "Sometimes a firm hand is the best way to educate."
5.
The first time Yukimura saw his captain play was forever engraved in his mind.
His captain was always placed in first singles, since Rikkai was a team that was inherently fair. No rigging the matches with uneven orders; no, Rikkai was fair. It was just better than anyone else.
Yukimura had seen some of his other seniors play, but the captain, due to his other responsibilities, was only at practice about half the time. Their vice captain, Watanabe, was a good second, picking up the extra responsibility without complaint.
What it meant was that the captain practiced alone, and few of the first years ever saw him in action. Now, against Hyotei, his captain had been called upon at long last. Hyotei was always a competitive school, but Rikkai always beat them.
His captain walked onto the court, and he felt the atmosphere become pregnant with expectation. Rikkai had dropped both doubles matches; now it was time to remind the world why Rikkai had won the Kantou division for over a decade.
He heard the girls yell his captain's name, but his captain ignored it. Instead, he offered his hand to his opponent, welcoming him to the court. He won the serve, of course, and went to take his place.
When he served, Yukimura felt like the ball was an arrow aimed directly at his heart, painful and wonderful. It was so fast, so accurate, that the Hyotei player could only watch in fear. His serve was beautiful, like watching a swan rise from its rest and take to the skies. Yukimura felt himself being pulled into the magnificence of his captain's ability, watching the game breathlessly.
There was no sign of stress on his captain's face. He seemed oddly serene, his movements even and understated. His captain's style was strong and sure, lacking treachery and deceit. He didn't rely on the "special moves" that so many players developed, instead mastering tennis through his own skill. He was the perfect all-rounder, ambidextrous and able to deal with anything that was thrown at him.
Yes, this is what tennis is about, Yukimura realized. It wasn't enough to beat your opponent - you also had to master yourself.
More than anything, Yukimura wished he could become that strong.
6.
Yukimura only played his captain once. It was an utter rout, but Yukimura could not remember enjoying a tennis game more. It was like god himself had descended and offered to showcase his greatness.
It was right before the third years retired. His captain had taken care to schedule a game with each of his underclassmen, two a day, for the final three weeks of practice. Yukimura was the last to play, but he enjoyed watching his friends make their best efforts in the matches before.
Niou hadn't bothered playing around, offering their captain the rare serious side of his nature. He lost, 0-6, and so did Yagyuu. Marui and Jackal hadn't managed to fair any better, but amazingly, Sanada and Yanagi both managed to wring one game each from their captain.
That day, after Sanada lost, Yukimura sat clutching his tennis racket, his heart in his throat. Sanada was flushed, and there was a shimmer in his eyes that Yukimura found almost embarrassing to admire. He did not seem depressed over being defeated; instead he was invigorated, practically shaking in excitement.
"I'll become the best," Sanada said, his look nearly feverish. "I'll make even the captain acknowledge me," he said.
Yukimura felt his nervous ache in his stomach widen to the size of a black hole. He and Sanada were tightly matched, since Sanada won about the third of the time. He wondered how he would be able to do, playing against someone who had only lost a single game in a set - and Yukimura suspected that the captain had used that game as a warm up.
Beads of sweat pearled on his captain's face, but his breathing was deep and easy. His dark eyes looked at Yukimura with a peculiar flatness, as though he was weighing his junior and finding him wanting. "Are you ready, Yukimura-kun?" he asked gently.
"Yes, buchou," he said, and he moved to take his place on the opposite side, a tennis ball gripped tightly in his left hand. The captain had let everyone else have the serve first. Staring down, he halted abruptly. "Let's flip for the serve," he said.
"It's no problem, I've let everyone else have it," the captain said easily.
"I'm not everyone else," Yukimura answered, feeling his fear subside a little. "I want this to be like a real match."
The captain tilted his head, before nodding with approval. They moved to the center of the court, and Yukimura spun his racket.
"Rough," the captain said.
Playing the captain was like learning to fly. There was a depth in his game, like he could anticipate each of Yukimura's moves before Yukimura even decided what to do. The captain's face was a smooth mask, and Yukimura thrilled to realize that he was being treated like an opponent, rather than someone who needed to be taught. If this was the captain's form of diplomacy, then Yukimura wanted to learn it.
Yukimura had never been so thoroughly beaten. The captain wasn't gentle with him, playing more seriously than he had against the other younger players. Yukimura fought him for each point, but never managed to take more than one in each game. Despite the humiliation, he couldn't get enough, playing better than he had ever before, surpassing his limits.
The last game, it was all he could do to remain standing. When they finally announced his utter defeat, Yukimura collapsed by the net.
"Aren't you going to thank me?" the captain asked from across the court, waiting to shake hands.
Yukimura was normally a polite boy, but he couldn't bring himself to concede that easily. "I'll thank you when I win," Yukimura replied stubbornly.
That started a laugh from the captain. "I never lose, Yukimura-kun."
That instant, Yukimura set himself a daring, impudent goal, a goal he would probably never achieve. One day, he promised himself, he would overtake his captain. "You'll lose to me," he said.
7.
Next year, when he joined the team, he heard that the captain had quit when he entered high school.
He couldn't imagine why, but Sanada had understood. "He's already mastered tennis," he said. "It's time for him to do something else."
Yanagi had agreed. "Tennis may be important to him, but in the scheme of things, it's irrelevant. He had much more important things to do with his life. He's going to be one of the most important people of our generation."
Yukimura understood, but that didn't make it any easier. He couldn't imagine the world without his captain's talent on the court. His captain had been his ideal, and he felt empty knowing that he would never witness the beauty and strength of his captain's game again.
Sometimes, late at night when he practiced by himself, he would dream of his captain and that shining tennis he would never see again. Whenever he practiced, he would envision his captain across the net, serving straight and true.
by aishuu
A Tennis no Oujisama/Death Note Crossover
Disclaimer: Konomi owns Tenipuri, Ooba and Obata own Death Note.
Spoilers: None really!
Note: Yes, I broke down and wrote this. It's a prelude for both series. Thanks to arithion for looking it over.
1.
Yukimura Seiichi had entered Rikkai knowing very well that the tennis program was extremely competitive. He was a good player, despite his frail appearance, and wanted to prove his talents against the best. Someday he dreamed of become a professional.
He, like many first years, dreamt of setting the world on fire with his skills. He would become a regular despite his years, defying convention with his passion and abilities. He would inspire others to follow him, his talent winning him the admiration of his peers as he overcame all obstacles before him.
He knew, with the arrogance of the innocent, that he was going to change the world.
Then he met the captain.
2.
On the first day of practice, Yukimura sat by his closest friend, Yagyuu Hiroshi. They had come from the same elementary school, and played tennis together at the same neighborhood courts.
The first years were arranged in a semi-circle, listening to the vice captain explain the rules and regulations. He spoke precisely, with a slightly cynical look in his eyes. "Some of you may have dreams about becoming a first-year regular, but that won't happen. We don't select new regulars until the summer."
"We do, however, encourage you to make us change our minds," said a soft voice from behind them.
They all craned their head to see who had spoken, but the figure was standing with his back to the sun, creating a halo of light and overshadowing his features.
"Buchou!" the vice captain's posture immediately turned more respectful. "I wasn't expecting you today."
"I delegated to one of the vice presidents. I wanted to be here," he said. He came around, and they could see the rather handsome young man wearing a regular's uniform. "I want to welcome you, and encourage you to do your best. The work will be hard, but I hope you'll find it rewarding. Those unwilling to devote themselves to our goal should leave now and save us all the trouble." No one moved, and the captain nodded with satisfaction. "Good. Let's work together to claim the national title," he said.
Then he smiled, and Yukimura developed his first case of idol worship.
3.
It wasn't love, not the kind of oh-my-god-I-want-to-be-your-one-and-only feeling, but an endless fascination that made Yukimura seek out everything he could find on the captain. No one on the team ever called him by his name, merely "buchou," and that was part of his legend. There was just something about him that drew others, and Yukimura was thoroughly caught in his thrall.
He wasn't alone. Another classmate, Yanagi Renji, seemed to feel the same compulsion. Together they would carefully pump their seniors for information, drinking in tales of the captain. It wasn't hard to find people willing to tell them about their captain. His fan following was the largest in the entire school.
"Aside from captaining the tennis club, he's also the president of the student body and head of the math club!"
"He's nationally ranked as a singles player! He won the Junior Nationals last year, and should win this year as well!"
"Did you know that he's the top student in the school?"
"Even though Rikkai lost nationals last year, he still has an unbeaten record! They just didn't get to singles one."
"I heard he received over 100 chocolates last Valentines."
"He was vice captain last year, but really he ran the club. Mouri-buchou always did what he said."
"He's brilliant. He's been helping his father on police cases - I heard that he helped find evidence to convict Masae Ichirou!"
The stories that were told about the captain's brilliance and talents permeated the school like rain. It was natural as breathing, and people all loved him. Yukimura knew that someday, the school would be known as where the captain had graduated from.
4.
He would have liked to believe that the captain took a personal interest in him, but the captain wasn't that kind of person. He was wonderfully unbiased, delivering his attention wherever it was needed. Yukimura became one of his concerns when he defeated a second year regular.
The match had been one of his better ones. Yukimura was the strongest first year player, although Yanagi and another boy, Sanada, were close on his heels. He wanted to surpass them both, and that meant showcasing his strength. Rikkai did not accept those who lost; Yukimura was determined, then, to always win.
He could feel the captain's eyes as he accepted the bottle of water from Jackal, another of his peers. He turned to smile at him, to seek his approval, but instead there was a hardness in his captain's eyes. A slender hand motioned for him to come over.
"You shouldn't play with them like that," his captain said, the censure gentle.
Yukimura felt like his heart had been ripped out, stomped on and tossed back to him. He knew his captain was disappointed in him. "I'm sorry," he said, his head hanging slightly.
The wind started to blow, attempting to muss his captain's light brown hair. Somehow it still remained perfect. "Don't be sorry, guilt gets you nowhere. You're one of the most talented students in your year, and you should set an example for those who don't have your abilities."
"I'll do my best, captain!" Yukimura resolved to throughly demolish his next opponent.
His captain nodded, and his eyes seemed to shine as he easily deciphered what Yukimura was thinking. "You don't have to destroy your opponents, but there's no reason for you to be soft." A slight smile curved his captain's face, and Yukimura would have done anything to keep it there, or maybe even make it grow. "Sometimes a firm hand is the best way to educate."
5.
The first time Yukimura saw his captain play was forever engraved in his mind.
His captain was always placed in first singles, since Rikkai was a team that was inherently fair. No rigging the matches with uneven orders; no, Rikkai was fair. It was just better than anyone else.
Yukimura had seen some of his other seniors play, but the captain, due to his other responsibilities, was only at practice about half the time. Their vice captain, Watanabe, was a good second, picking up the extra responsibility without complaint.
What it meant was that the captain practiced alone, and few of the first years ever saw him in action. Now, against Hyotei, his captain had been called upon at long last. Hyotei was always a competitive school, but Rikkai always beat them.
His captain walked onto the court, and he felt the atmosphere become pregnant with expectation. Rikkai had dropped both doubles matches; now it was time to remind the world why Rikkai had won the Kantou division for over a decade.
He heard the girls yell his captain's name, but his captain ignored it. Instead, he offered his hand to his opponent, welcoming him to the court. He won the serve, of course, and went to take his place.
When he served, Yukimura felt like the ball was an arrow aimed directly at his heart, painful and wonderful. It was so fast, so accurate, that the Hyotei player could only watch in fear. His serve was beautiful, like watching a swan rise from its rest and take to the skies. Yukimura felt himself being pulled into the magnificence of his captain's ability, watching the game breathlessly.
There was no sign of stress on his captain's face. He seemed oddly serene, his movements even and understated. His captain's style was strong and sure, lacking treachery and deceit. He didn't rely on the "special moves" that so many players developed, instead mastering tennis through his own skill. He was the perfect all-rounder, ambidextrous and able to deal with anything that was thrown at him.
Yes, this is what tennis is about, Yukimura realized. It wasn't enough to beat your opponent - you also had to master yourself.
More than anything, Yukimura wished he could become that strong.
6.
Yukimura only played his captain once. It was an utter rout, but Yukimura could not remember enjoying a tennis game more. It was like god himself had descended and offered to showcase his greatness.
It was right before the third years retired. His captain had taken care to schedule a game with each of his underclassmen, two a day, for the final three weeks of practice. Yukimura was the last to play, but he enjoyed watching his friends make their best efforts in the matches before.
Niou hadn't bothered playing around, offering their captain the rare serious side of his nature. He lost, 0-6, and so did Yagyuu. Marui and Jackal hadn't managed to fair any better, but amazingly, Sanada and Yanagi both managed to wring one game each from their captain.
That day, after Sanada lost, Yukimura sat clutching his tennis racket, his heart in his throat. Sanada was flushed, and there was a shimmer in his eyes that Yukimura found almost embarrassing to admire. He did not seem depressed over being defeated; instead he was invigorated, practically shaking in excitement.
"I'll become the best," Sanada said, his look nearly feverish. "I'll make even the captain acknowledge me," he said.
Yukimura felt his nervous ache in his stomach widen to the size of a black hole. He and Sanada were tightly matched, since Sanada won about the third of the time. He wondered how he would be able to do, playing against someone who had only lost a single game in a set - and Yukimura suspected that the captain had used that game as a warm up.
Beads of sweat pearled on his captain's face, but his breathing was deep and easy. His dark eyes looked at Yukimura with a peculiar flatness, as though he was weighing his junior and finding him wanting. "Are you ready, Yukimura-kun?" he asked gently.
"Yes, buchou," he said, and he moved to take his place on the opposite side, a tennis ball gripped tightly in his left hand. The captain had let everyone else have the serve first. Staring down, he halted abruptly. "Let's flip for the serve," he said.
"It's no problem, I've let everyone else have it," the captain said easily.
"I'm not everyone else," Yukimura answered, feeling his fear subside a little. "I want this to be like a real match."
The captain tilted his head, before nodding with approval. They moved to the center of the court, and Yukimura spun his racket.
"Rough," the captain said.
Playing the captain was like learning to fly. There was a depth in his game, like he could anticipate each of Yukimura's moves before Yukimura even decided what to do. The captain's face was a smooth mask, and Yukimura thrilled to realize that he was being treated like an opponent, rather than someone who needed to be taught. If this was the captain's form of diplomacy, then Yukimura wanted to learn it.
Yukimura had never been so thoroughly beaten. The captain wasn't gentle with him, playing more seriously than he had against the other younger players. Yukimura fought him for each point, but never managed to take more than one in each game. Despite the humiliation, he couldn't get enough, playing better than he had ever before, surpassing his limits.
The last game, it was all he could do to remain standing. When they finally announced his utter defeat, Yukimura collapsed by the net.
"Aren't you going to thank me?" the captain asked from across the court, waiting to shake hands.
Yukimura was normally a polite boy, but he couldn't bring himself to concede that easily. "I'll thank you when I win," Yukimura replied stubbornly.
That started a laugh from the captain. "I never lose, Yukimura-kun."
That instant, Yukimura set himself a daring, impudent goal, a goal he would probably never achieve. One day, he promised himself, he would overtake his captain. "You'll lose to me," he said.
7.
Next year, when he joined the team, he heard that the captain had quit when he entered high school.
He couldn't imagine why, but Sanada had understood. "He's already mastered tennis," he said. "It's time for him to do something else."
Yanagi had agreed. "Tennis may be important to him, but in the scheme of things, it's irrelevant. He had much more important things to do with his life. He's going to be one of the most important people of our generation."
Yukimura understood, but that didn't make it any easier. He couldn't imagine the world without his captain's talent on the court. His captain had been his ideal, and he felt empty knowing that he would never witness the beauty and strength of his captain's game again.
Sometimes, late at night when he practiced by himself, he would dream of his captain and that shining tennis he would never see again. Whenever he practiced, he would envision his captain across the net, serving straight and true.