A Reason to Live

-ººº-

'Pok' goes the sound of the rackets kissing tennis balls. Every day, every hour, even when there are no tennis players on the court and the school is empty, he can hear that.

Pok pok pok pok.

It's not like clockwork; it is clockwork. Every second, there is that audible evidence that the tennis players are hard at work, training to be ever stronger, ever faster, ever better than their peers and those older than them.

It is a competitive environment, not one for those weak of body and weak of mind. There is no place for softness here, no time for gentility. If you are deemed unworthy, you will be pushed aside and replaced. It's a simple system that everyone understands and accepts. Therefore, they make it their aim to train so hard their muscles ache. Inevitably they will ignore the protests of their body and push themselves towards beyond the breaking point. Even then, they will continue to test their endurance. At that point, it isn't physical or mental strength that sustains them but the power of the soul and the spirit. They will carry on no matter what their own mind or body says.

The students here take pride in their strength and their independence. It is how they were brought up and their way of life.

Pok pok pok pok.

He has heard comments once that a person may go insane here… simply because everything is so cold and hard. If one could paint the scene, it would be filled with sharp edges, like ice and glass shards. They would be painted in cold, winter colours like white, blue and gray. Surprisingly, there is no black here. There are only the cool, arrogant, monotonous colours… colours that symbolize unending and unyielding work.

Occasionally, there is a burst of red and yellow plus some orange from the fighting spirit of the players. For the regulars of the team, this is a change from the ice and the frost. They are the source of the hot colours in the painting with their skills and spirit. But like fire, they scald and burn. There is not much restraint of the sharp flames they produce.

He knows his own fire is there, blazing side by side with the other regulars… but he hopes it scalds little and warms more often. He accepts his friends' scorching fires, accepts the fact that it makes them who they are.

But he doesn't want his brand of fire to be lost in the midst of it all.

Pok pok pok pok.

He silently stands in front of his locker, packing his belongings and preparing to leave after a long day of school and tennis practice. His mind is in the uncommon state of quiet contemplation, thinking more than speaking. He mechanically packs his tennis racket, his tube of tennis balls, his spare clothes, a few books… his hands touch them but doesn't feel as he places it all in his bag.

He should be staying longer, he knows. All of the others are staying back at least two more hours past sunset. But today the tennis court doesn't have its usual magnetic hold on him. The grip of the tennis racket and the anticipation of facing off against an opponent are not as attractive to him as the urge to head out of school… away from the sounds of 'pok pok pok'.

The sound of the zip echoes through the empty room and he sighs a little.

"Going home early?"

He looks up and smiles at the newcomer. "Yup." Picking the bag up, he hefts it on his shoulder. "But not home. Elsewhere."

The newcomer smirks. "A date and you didn't have the guts to tell the rest of us. Scared your senpais will steal her away?"

He chuckles amusedly. "Not a date. Even if it were, I wouldn't be afraid of anyone here stealing her away."

"And why's that? You underestimate our wooing skills?"

"Never that, senpai. I just like to think that I'll treat my girlfriend well enough to keep her by my side."

The smirk grows a bit wider. "Logical as ever, Choutarou."

He grins, taking steps forward to the door while his senior moves into the locker room. "See you tomorrow, Shishido-senpai."

The older boy nods, slapping Ohtori's palm with his own in a goodbye high-five. "See ya. Have fun, whatever you're doin'."

"I will."

He goes, leaving Shishido to head for his locker to grab a bottle of water.

-ººº-

He walks along the familiar path, unnoticing the glow of orange and yellow sunset, making a backdrop for the silhouettes of the trees. He's still thinking of his team and the fire they make amidst the ice; the difference between his and their own inner flames of their spirits.

Pok pok pok pok.

He wonders how he has managed to survive in a world such as Hyotei. How has he come through, head untouched by the prestige and the pride, mind unscathed by the rigours of practice? He remembers there were times when he felt weak, the times when he felt like it wasn't worth all the effort. He has been tempted so many times before to drop out of the school, move away to another one where there was less of this pressure.

It hadn't only been the tennis… but the personalities surrounding him. He isn't unaware of their outlook on the sport and on life in general. He has discovered very early on that there is a fine line between arrogance and confidence. His friends go back and forth between that line so often that it's blurred. He believes he has crossed that line one time too many over the years as well. His fire has probably scorched a few people too.

He has also wondered if tennis is the only reason he breathes… the only reason he lives. His teammates certainly seem to think so.

Pok pok pok pok.

His sneakers crunch some loose pebbles and gravel as he walks along. And he remembers how he managed to keep his fire in check. He remembers learning that his fire didn't need to burn other people. He learned and keeps learning how to keep it behind a barrier, restraining the scalding flames. He has learned how to clear the line when it has blurred.

He remembers the reason for not losing himself in the competition of Hyotei.

Where he learned it and how he learned it… well, that had been rather unexpected.

As the sun sinks beyond the western horizon, he approaches a building and a smile grows on his face. A strong tune emanates from within the stone walls. Silently, he slips in a wooden side door and the melody is translated into words. People stand in rows, singing the lyrics from songbooks in their hands. In the front, a large but simple cross hangs on the wall.

A man standing at the front looks up and notices the young man standing in the background. He smiles, nodding at the young boy.

Ohtori nods back smilingly at the priest. When the older man turns back to his songbook, Ohtori gazes upon the large cross on the wall opposite the congregation.

He remembers wandering past this church years ago, when he had been playing ball at the age of six. He had wondered why they were singing and went in to investigate.

"Hello there."

He looks up to meet the kindly expression of a man wearing spectacles and a smile.

He grins back. "Hi. Um…can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why are you all singing?"

The man chuckles amusedly. "You could say that we're celebrating."

"Celebrating? What?"

The man's smile gets wider. "Someone very special…"

Seven years after that meeting with Father Suzumori… here he stands, joining in the chorus of the hymn they are singing.

While he sings, Ohtori's hand closes over the silver cross he keeps around his neck, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. His parents had given it to him the day he made the regulars' team.

It is not the pendant that gives him strength, but the one it reminds him of. As the young boy continues to gaze at the cross on the wall and feels the one in his palm, he remembers what he has come to believe.

The strength he possesses doesn't come from the tennis racket he owns or how many tennis balls he can lob. Ohtori believes that God keeps him strong and keeps him away from the tempting egotism… should he ever feel weak, he can always come to Him, no matter what the circumstance. He has learned and he believes the story of God's only begotten Son coming through His trials and hardships. So he believes that he can come through the challenges as well as long as God is there beside him.

It is because of God that he knew it was worthwhile helping Shishido in his time of need… worthwhile to keep staying in Hyotei. It is because of God that he will not lose himself in the midst of the pompousness and the ego trips.

The music has soothed away the rhythm of the tennis balls in his head. Ohtori's smile grows wider as his voice rises towards the end of the hymn.

It is because of God that he has a reason to live.

End.

A/N: A fan's explanation on Ohtori's quiet, inner strength and where it comes from. If you feel offended in some way, I apologize. This story wasn't meant to be an insult or an accusation or anything. It was just... I'm not really sure how to explain it. Thanks for reading anyway.