The Next King (1)
"No way." A pair of sky-blue eyes widened beyond belief. Facing the person that had been tormenting him ever since he met him was something that Kiseki had not planned for. A sense of impending doom rattled his mind as a cold chill ran down his spine. A malicious grin that had now become tied to Eiji had still been labeled on his face. "Thanks to Coach. For this easy win," he chuckled as he declared the upper half of the court as his domain. Students cleared the court, and there they stood. Just the two of them, to face off in the game of tennis. But Kiseki had not moved from his position at the side of the court. He stood frozen, trapped in an endless thought. "Isn't this what I wanted? To destroy him?" Kiseki reflected on his very reason for even being here. To impress the girl of his dreams or destroy the person who made his life miserable. He had to choose which he truly desired more.
His racket shook in his grasp as his hand trembled from the countless eyes watching him. On a chair positioned at the side of the court, the same student who had announced their match would speak. "Alright! Before the match begins, I'll give you a rundown of the rules of tennis." In what many would see as a rather kind act, Eiji responded with the rolling of his eyes followed by a scoff. "Just hurry the hell up. We all know you're doing this because this mutt here is a complete novice." Eiji took this time to hurl another insult at Eiji before he was stopped by the supervising student.
"Enough; demonstrating acts of sportsmanship is a quality needed to join this team. Now, here's an explanation of tennis. Tennis is a game that is played between two or four different players. Two players going against each other are known as singles, and four are doubles. Today you'll be playing one-versus-one, or simply singles. To win in tennis, you must win a match. Matches consist of sets. For a player to claim a set, they must win six games while having two more wins over their opponent. Games are won by the first player to reach points with a two-point lead. In the game of tennis, zero points are called love, one point is called fifteen, two points are called thirty, and three points are called forty. If a player reaches four points, then that's the game; if the score is tied, then that will be referred to as all. If the game is tied at forty-four, then it's called a deuce. Tied games go on until one of the players wins by two. It may seem confusing, but I promise, if you don't understand, it'll get easier. Today, you two will be going head-to-head in a match with one set. Kiseki will serve first. Now, let the game begin!" The student waved his hand signal for the start of the game as the students observing from behind the fence cheered for Eiji to dominate.
Kiseki gripped a lime tennis ball in his hand while clenching his racket in his other. His mind overflowed with thoughts. You're not good enough; you weren't cut out for this; you should just give up. Even though he had pushed himself this far out of his comfort zone, maybe it was time to go back to the life that he had designed for himself. "Hurry the hell up and serve! We don't get all day, ya'knoww," Eiji shouted at the now frozen Kiseki. Maybe he should simply hide away and place himself back into the role of Kiseki Yamazaki, the mixed-breed mutt who will never be anything. Or he could challenge himself, break down the limits that he had set for himself, and become something greater than what he already was. "I got this." He said with a tone of confidence that he had never spoken before. Maybe, possibly, he had found the thing that he desired the most in those fragile new minutes as the game began. The desire to destroy the image of himself that was framed by everyone and anyone who knew his name. And rebuild himself as a star! Kiseki exhaled as his eyes flared with a hunger never seen before—a hunger to devour the enemy in front of him and come out of the top.
Muscles that had once been hidden under the layers of fat that Kiseki had accumulated over the years began to pulsate as blood rushed throughout them. Energizing them to their very core. The bright yellow ball soared into the air; it lay there, awaiting to be hit on the other side of the court. "I got this!" Kiseki screamed out in his mind. His arm reeled back as if it were a sling shot ready to be sent flying at its wielder's target. With the snap of a finger, Kiseki let out all of the strength that he had built up over the years in this single swing. The swing that would make or break him joining the team and him winning this match. The collision of Kiseki's ratchet and the ball rang throughout the area. But he didn't stop there; even with the collision of the two, Kiseki pushed his arm forward with all of the strength that his body could possibly muster. He lunged forward, with the ball propelling forward.
It spun and spun within the air as it was sent flying toward Eiji directly. "Damn! That's got to be at least sixty-three miles per hour. Pretty impressive for someone who struggles to hit consistently." An onlooker said, but his remark was quirky and was responded to by another onlooker. "Yeah, but it's pretty bad for someone who plans to join one of the top tennis teams in Japan." As they spoke, the ball hastily charged toward the other side of the court. Kiseki smiled as he was proud that he actually hit the ball. But all of his joy would quickly be drained from his body as he stared down at an unfortunate sight. The ball hadn't crossed over the other side of the net but rather smashed directly into it, bouncing back directly to Kiseki's feet.
The group of onlookers burst out into laughter as even Eiji began to cackle. Countless insults were hurled at the boy, but the uproar was quickly put out by the student supervising the match. "Alright, alright. It's pretty funny, but you all need to calm down. No distractions will be tolerated." After the student spoke, the crowd instantly died down; even Eiji himself did so. This person wasn't your average administrator; it seemed that he had some control over the participants there. But that was not a concern the moment Eiji tossed a ball into his hand. Kiseki, hitting the next and causing the ball to land on his side of the court, automatically turned the ball over to Eiji, as he would be the next to serve.
Sigh. A cool stream of air exhaled from Eiji's mouth. He had been rather amused by the mutt's failures, but it was time for him to get serious. "How about I show you a real serve, eh mutt?" Eiji proclaimed that he was as confident in his abilities as ever. Whip. The ball had been tossed into the air, but there was a difference between when Eiji and Kiseki performed this action. Kiseki's was noticeably lower in the air than Eiji's; just what was he planning to do?
Silence. Nothing could be heard as everyone awaited the results of Eiji's first serve. The boy, destined for greatness, was forged to become nothing but the best. Eiji gritted his teeth fiercely, and what soon followed was his first step. At the moment, it had clicked in everyone's mind what he was about to do—well, except for Kiseki. Instead of winding up for a swing, his arms swing behind him as he gathers energy to launch himself into the sky. Swish! Eiji floated in the skies above Kiseki and everyone else with their feet tied to the ground. From below, he truly looked like nothing more than a god. In one swift and fluid movement, Eiji swung his racket. A devilish smile was stained upon his face as... BAM!! There was a collision between racket and ball, but as Kiseki observed the sky, he saw no ball.
Only Eiji landed on his feet. Cheers erupted behind Kiseki; he knew what had happened. Turning his body, he faced the tennis ball that had already rolled against the wall. "GO SHIMIZU!! GREAT SERVE!!!" The crowd cheered. Eighty six miles per hour. A serve speed that surpassed most on the juniorvarsity team. And a speed that was truly impossible to beat.