Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Memories Lost ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis in any way, shape, or form.

 

This takes place fifteen years after Nationals.

 

---

 

He felt light...

 

Like he was drifting in the air...

 

He could unconsciously feel the sheets over his body, the pillow under his head, and the bed under him. He felt the needle in his arm, and the tingling feeling that came with it.

 

He could hear snippets of a conversation that seemed far off.

 

“Please pretend-”

 

“Know-”

 

“Okay?”

 

He suddenly broke from his reverie and slowly opened his eyes. White light shown into his eyes and he squinted to get used to it.

 

“So you're awake?” A voice, the same one he had heard earlier when he had been dreaming, greeted him. “Can you sit up?”

 

He groaned, and attempted to do so. A slim hand found his back and carefully helped him into a sitting position.

 

“Here, you might need these.” A pair of glasses was pushed onto his nose.

 

“Thank you.” He fully opened his eyes and saw the person who had helped him was a young man around his own age with honey brown hair and a cheerful face who was sitting by the bed Tezuka was on. “Who are you?”

 

“I think the question is: `Who are you?'”

 

“I'm Tezuka Kunimitsu, age 30, a businessman.”

 

“So you remember, eh?” The smile seemed to arch down further. “Tezuka-san, you were in a train accident. Though you escaped with only a few scratches, something happened to your brain and we figured that you would have at least a mild case of amnesia.”

 

“I really doubt it.” Tezuka grunted, not liking the fact that he was in the hospital.

 

“Well, I want you to think back and relay parts of your life to me. Let's start with your birthday last year. Tell me what you did.”

 

“I went to work and then to dinner with a client.” Tezuka replied.

 

“I see. How about your 25th birthday?”

 

“Same.”

 

“I see. You don't seem to like birthdays, do you?” The grin on the man's face seemed to grow even more.

 

“No.”

 

The next question came immediately. “Your twenty-first birthday? Surely you must have celebrated that.”

 

“No. I went to class and then ate dinner while studying.”

 

“Birthday when you turned eighteen.”

 

“I got a tennis racket, new sneakers, and a laptop.”

 

“You have a good memory, Tezuka-san. Tennis racket? Did you play when you were in Jr. High?” The smile had impossibly grown again.

 

A silence followed.

 

“You can't remember? How about in high school?”

 

The question hung in the air for a minute.

 

“Elementary school?”

 

“Yes. I won a few tournaments.” A sigh of content escaped the smiling doctor's lips.

 

“Well, Tezuka-san, it looks like your memories from the time you began Jr. High and the time you graduated high school have escaped you.” He stood up, white coat gently swaying. “Don't worry. It's temporary for the moment. I'll see you tomorrow to see if you are in a condition to see our psychiatrist.” The man began to leave.

 

“Wait.”

 

“Hm?” He turned back towards Tezuka.

 

“Who are you?”

 

“I'm Fuji Syusuke, your doctor. Just call me Fuji.” Without another word, the doctor left.

 

---

 

Fuji Syusuke...

 

It sounded familiar, even an hour after the strange doctor had left. Why? Perhaps it was the fact that his last name was the same as that of a famous mountain? Tezuka quickly dismissed the thought and pulled his glasses off. Setting them on the table near his bed, he lay down and forced his mind to slow and his body to sleep.

 

He dreamed of smiles and tennis that night.

 

---The Next Day---

 

“Tezuka-san? You didn't die on me, did you? Are you going to wake up?”

 

He opened his eyes and saw the same crazy doctor that had asked all those questions yesterday leaning over him. A smile suddenly crept into his mind, before Tezuka quickly shoved the image away and reached for his glasses.

 

“If I did die, would I be talking right now?” he asked wryly once the lenses were in place. Fuji only kept smiling at the infamous Tezuka-glare that would scare the wits out of a demon.

 

“I guess not, but can you walk? Because if you can, I'm making you walk all the way down the hall to the psychiatrist's office.”

 

“Down the hall? It's not very far, is it?” Tezuka then tried to sit up but groaned at the effort.

 

“It is if you can't walk, no?” Fuji smiled almost triumphantly before a voice interrupted him from the door.

 

“Fuji, I don't think right now is a good time for your sadistic side to be kicking in.” They both turned and Tezuka saw a tall man wearing the same whit coat as Fuji was with black hair that was gelled down and seemed like swim cap was glued onto his head.

 

Fuji brightened. “Hey! We were just about to visit you!” He rushed to greet the newcomer. “You didn't have to come all this way.”

 

“Fuji,” He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. “It's only down the hall; a forty-five second walk. Not that far.”

 

“Yes, but I think Tezuka-san needs the exercise. He hasn't been out of bed in a month.” Fuji pointed at said man. The other doctor looked at Tezuka and smiled.

 

“I suppose you're Tezuka Kunimitsu?” Tezuka nodded slowly. “It's nice to meet you. I'm Oishi Syuichirou, the hospital's resident psychiatrist.”

 

---

 

It's short, but it seemed like a good place to cut off.

 

I would have cut off at where Fuji introduced him, but then it would have been about 500 words long.

 

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