Game

This is fan fiction for the anime Prince of Tennis, enjoy:

Ryoma Echizen loved tennis. He loved the way the handle of his racket fitted perfectly in his hand. He love the way the ball bulged in his pocket or the solid "thunk" of the ball when it hits the racket squarely in the center. He loved the smell of burnt rubber when a ball gets worn out by the hard smashes. Ryoma also loved the courts, the rectangle within the reactangle, the way the white lines bordered on the edge of his vision, the way the world world seem to revolve around him and his opponent when they played.

Tezuga Kunimitsu loved tennis. He loved the way his focus is always drawn to the ball, a blurred spot that seem to sharpen his awareness of it. He loved the way the movement, hard or soft, rough or graceful, all merge together to form a work of art, a dance between opponents. Tezuga loved the way his mind absorbed the style of his opponent and allowed him to read the language of tennis. He loved creating his own brand of perfect tennis, but most of all he loved leading the Seigaku team to further and higher than they ever had.

Ryoma had never had such an opponent as his captain. His father, a pro tennis player, had always tried to make his defeats into a learning point, and Ryoma had never met a player besides his father that could beat him... until now. Tezuga was his buchou, the one person he looked up to even more than his father. As he stood across the net, facing his own defeat, he felt fear burn across his chest, and something else, something that felt very much like dissapointment, like shame, left a sour taste in his mouth. It was then that he realized it. He did not want to lose. He did not want to disapoint the sandy-haired youth that stood facing him from across the net. The same youth that had competed with the top professionals in the Nationals. His captain. He wanted to win.

Tezuga noticed a change in the ball he had just recieved. It was subtle, a little more weight in the hit, a little more spin to the side and a little faster serve. Ryoma rallied the ball back at him. This ball was seemingly average, coming right at him in the center of court. He pulled back his racket and swung. Tezuga's sharp eyes widened. The muscles in his arm strained. The ball was heavy! Still tezuga managed to hit a cross-sourt with the speed and precision he was so wll known for. However he miscalculated and the return ball slammed into the opposite side of his court, winning Ryoma his match point.

The game resumed in earnest now. Whoever won this final point would be the best player in Seigaku and perhaps someday, in the world. Ryoma gripped his racket in his left palm. Tezuga shifted his weight onto his right leg and hunched his back into the ready position. It was a fight to the finish.

I wish

Lately I've been to busy to write... too busy to type... too tired of life...

School is draining my soul, my imagination, my will to fight... I am but a machine, waking up in the week hours having only a few hours rest the previous night. I do wish that life would be life a chocolate box, not knowing what I would get, but knowing that since its chocolate, anything will be good. i wish...

I wish for a thousand tiny little stars,
All smiling and bright,
I wish for a hundred chocolate bars,
All milky and nice,
I wish for a dozen blood red roses,
From a person I've never met,
I wish I was not myself,
But some anonymous name on the net.

Hahaha, I wish I can still smile the way I use to,
Or laugh from deep in my heart,
I wish he would smile at me too,
And it would be but a sweet tart,
I wish my best friend was here,
And smuggle me food,
I wish my never ending homework pile
Would just dissapear!

There're a thousand and one things I wish for
But the most important one
Only now that you have read it
Would you ever know
I wish to fall in love
To someone tall and nice
I wish for a happily-ever-after
With fairies and castles and my white knight!

Doodles

No one can see me.

I am invisible.

People's minds are always so full that they cannot comprehend what it is like to think of nothing. Philosophers say that one can never think of nothing, because the very fact that you are think of nothing means that you are already thinking of something. I'm telling you that it is not true. Nothing is simple. It is not so hard to comprehend. You don't need to be proficient in biology, physics, chemistry or moath to know it. All of us were nothing once. before the sperm fused with the egg and you were conceived, you didn't exist. And after you die, you simple cease to be.

Right?

Then why are there so many stories about the afterlife? Why are there so many theories about rebirth? Why do people need religion but to give themselves hope of spiritual immortality?

Wait.

So what if you do exist after death? Does it mean that you exist before you were born as well? If so, where were you? In the air? Or the earth? Or perhaps on another plane that no living person knows about. Well, let us assume a more scientific point of view. Eliminate the air... and the earth... and the spirituak plane... what do you get then? Nothing. Space is nothing, but to us humans it is still something. What then is nothingness to us?

Ah, what can you see that you can't feel? Illusions. What can you feel that you can't see? Me. When I think of nothing. I become nothing> Despite the oxymoron you might see in my words, I assure you I am speaking the truth.

Friends? Not...

This entree was not written in a whimp of fansy, but rather as a way to to express my feelings, one of the few ways that i can. You can take it as part of the previous story or u can read it on its own... either way, enjoy...

Friends? Not...

“Friends?” he asked, his eyes looking at me earnestly.

I swallowed the hysterical laugh that threatened to erupt and nodded my head mutely. Friends…

He smiled then, for the first time that morning and said, “you know, its better this way, after all, you wouldn’t want to rush things right?”

He was right; of course, we were in high school, that vital period before entering into collage. Any mistakes now could practically cost us the rest of our lives. That doesn’t make it any easier, doesn’t make that cold hard claw around my chest ease a little. I still felt like choking and I was desperate to flee from him – to flee from him so that he couldn’t see my tears.

Oh how ironic! Moments ago I was yearning to finally be alone with him, to open my heart to him and finally release the burden that has held me captive for the past two months. I had it all planned out, how to approach him… how to keep that tone just right- not too serious but not too light either- how to make him see me in a whole new light. But even before I spoke he already knew. And now, I want nothing more than to be as far away from him as possible, which is impossibility already, what with my heart being filled by him and all.

His sweet scent washed over me, threatening to weaken the iron walls of my will. I could feel the tightness around my eyes, the sourness in my nose, the huge hole where my heart used to be.

He could tell that I was about to cry – he knew me so well – and reached out towards me, trying I suppose, to comfort me. But then he faltered half way through… and his arms returned to hang awkwardly at his side. I smiled, a bitter smile, more of a grimace than a smile, and whispered “thanks Nick.” Then I turned and walked away. He didn’t follow.

Bye … I’m going to miss you.

The thing was that I knew that he wasn’t ready for a relationship. I knew that he didn’t feel the same way as I do, but I had to try… no matter how painful it is I had to try, because well, if I didn’t I will regret it for the rest of my life. I knew and had braced myself for the disappointment, but the intensity of it when it came shocked me. It came out of nowhere, a blow to my gut, so strong that for a moment I couldn’t breathe…

The dull ache continue to throb somewhere deep inside even as most of the actual pain wore off, following me as I went about the day as well as I could, flaring up only when he came too close. Now, even as I type this, it’s making it presence known, carving itself into my very flesh.

Friends… Will it ever be enough ?




I might continue on this or I might not... we'll see. Thanks for reading! :)

Love, that's all it is

This is pyro again... short story... not really a story but a slightly modified version of real life exp. Enjoy XD.

Love, That's All It Is

Love is so simple. Love is just that: love.

The dictionary’s definition of love is this: a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person. And that is exactly what it is, yet it is also so much more.

It is silent and invisible. It is small and insignificant, but when it comes into your life, it is brings with it big changes and big happenings. The great city of Troy fell because of it. It can’t get any bigger than that.

But for most people, all those earth-shaking changes occur inside, deep down, where only they themselves can feel it. A shy girl may suddenly put down her books and approach the guy she likes with a hesitant smile on her face. A guy who practically lived on the soccer field may just change out of his jerseys and take the girl he likes to a movie. No one told them what to do. No one went up to them and forced them to deviate from their usual behaviour, all that happened was that they fell in love.


And so it happened to me. High school had just started and everybody was as confused and lonely as I was – the perfect opportunity to make friends. I was by nature a quiet and shy person, a person who is very much internalised and as usual, I was sitting alone at a table designed for two. Home room in the morning was a mess, what with the students streaming in, the teachers shouting for order and the chit-chat of the girls. After checking in my attendance, I turned my attention to my book and sat there, enjoying my novel until the bell for first period rung.

Straight after home room was Literature, a subject that very few of my class mates took. Nervously, I began looking at the name list, filled with information about all our subject combinations, hoping to find a fellow literature student. Just as I was about to give up and go on by myself, my eyes caught at a name: Nicholas Jonathan Fieze, I read, only realising that I had spoken out loud when a dark head shot up and looked directly at me. Our eyes met of their own accord and I found myself looking into a pair of intense, dark eyes, set beneath a wide forehead and perched above a strong nose ridge. His head was neatly trimmed and his shoulders wide.

Then, I blinked and the moment was gone. He was still there however, looking at me quizzically. I gave him a wide smile and mouthed the word “literature”. He caught on immediately and returned my grin with a smile on his own, nodding his head to my unspoken question. Excited at the prospect of making a new friend, I quickly gathered my things and off we went to a lesson that I was never to forget.

Little did I know that it was the start of a whole new love story…

[One shot] Him

Pyro checking in again! So, are you excited about Ori's upcoming story? I know I am. Ori haven't even let me read the draft yet! But in the meantime, you'll have to settle with me and my crappy one-shot. :P

HIM

Whenever I get this feeling in my tummy I know that he is near. Whenever I enter the classroom in the morning I would automatically look towards his seat. Whenever he speaks to me, I feel extraordinarily happy. I do all those things and now I know why. I like him.

I like the way one of his eyes would be smaller than the other eye when he smiles. I like the way he laughs at my sarcastic remarks. I like the way his forehead creases when he is deep in thought, trying to figure out a math problem. I could go on and on about what I like about him, but the thing I like best is the way his figure stands out in a room full of strangers. He makes me feel safe and that's something that looks cannot achieve.

I’ve only known him for three weeks. Perhaps some would tell me that that is too soon to really judge a person. But I seem to have known him forever and yet he continues to surprise me with things that I never thought he would do. Like the fact that he plays the piano – very well.

From the very first time our eyes met, I have liked him. Now, I just need to make him like me back. I tried to talk to him, to get to know him, to sit beside him during lunch, anything that would allow me his company. I smile when he look my way and try to make that delightful smile of his appear on his face numerous times throughout the day. I got his number on the second week and I’ve been texting him at the slightest possible opportunity. I fear however, that if I plague him too much, he’ll find me repulsive.

Well, the good thing is that he actually talks to me now and then. But the bad thing is that I’m pretty sure he thinks of me only as a friend. To him, I’m but one friend, amongst the many that he has. I would watch him as we walk down the corridor; he would always stop for one reason or another, for many of his friends are in different classes now and the only time they meet outside of his co-curriculum activity is during break. I know that it is wrong of me, but every time that happens I would feel a tinge of jealousy inside. If it was me standing in the corridor would he stop to greet me like that? Would he laugh and smile with that same carefree manner?

There are times when I’m almost sure that he likes me. Like when he looks right into my eyes as he talks to me, or when he text me a goodnight with a smiley face beside it, or even as he looks at me with a beautiful smile on his lips. Then there are times when I know that he only puts up with me because I constantly stick to his side. Like that afternoon, during the science fair. I hadn’t seen him all day and was eager to visit his booth, where his experiments were set up, but when I got there he was busy talking to another friend and barely said hi and bye before turning back to his conversation. I don’t know whether to continue smiling like he didn’t affect me at all, or break down and storm out of the hall. I ended up just getting as far away from him as I can.

Is this what people call a crush? Is this what people mean by liking a guy? If so I don’t really want to have a crush. Because when you have low self-esteem and absolutely no experience with the opposite gender like me, you’ll find that having a crush is a torment. A thousand questions would plague you 24/7 and you’ll be distracted from almost everything you do. You’ll think of him every moment and it’s almost like having a disease. You’ve been infected and the only medicine is him.

Later on as I sat in my bus, I thought about him. Perhaps it is better if we just remain friends. If I don’t hope for more, I’ll never be disappointed by his lack of motivation; instead I’ll be patient and wait for his every smile, his every laugh. And maybe someday... just maybe... this romance I seek would finally find me.

Ha as if! Tis truly easier said than done.

Fin

P.S : Certain parts of this one-shot is based on real life experiences.

That'll keep you entertained till next time then. Bye! XD

Love, Pyro.

[Upcoming] NO...

IMAGINE A WORLD LIKE THIS: NO CONFLICTS, NO DISPUTES, NO WARS, NO RIOTS, NO ECONOMIC RECESSIONS, NO HOMELESS PEOPLE, NO STRAVATION, NO FAMINE, NO FLOODING, NO DROUGHTS, NO FOREST FIRES, NO HURRICANES, NO SOIL EROSION, NO DEFORESTATION, NO PROPAGANDA, NO TERRORISM, NO STRESS, NO HUMAN MASSACRES, NO TEENAGE PREGNANCIES, NO GLOBAL ILLITERACY, NO GLOBAL WARMING, NO NUCLER WEAPONS, NO PROSTITUTION, NO SMUGGLING, NO INCEST, NO SLAVERY, NO ROBBING, NO CRIMES, NO MURDER, NO ILLNESS, NO PSYCOPATHES...

PERHAPS you notice that there’s a lot more NOs…
MAYBE NOs are not so bad…
Check up this story: NO… (upcoming)

Cheers, Ori