Title: Captain, my captain

Author: runningondreams

Disclaimer: Tennis no oujisama belongs to Konomi-san and Shonen Jump. I own no characters, names, images, plot-lines, places, or production rights. Nor do I own Walt Whitman's poem 'O Captain, my Captain.'

You know you're too obsessed with Prince of Tennis when: You start saying 'nya' like it actually means something. Seriously.

Warnings: none.

Summary: Minami's thoughts on Sengoku and captaincy.

Sometimes Minami wondered why Banji had even bothered to make him captain when he so obviously favored Sengoku. Especially since doubles players were not particularly known for making good captains in the first place.

There had been no explanation, no real reasoning. Everyone had thought that Sengoku, as the singles player, the All-Japan representative, the star would be captain. It made sense that way. But their enigmatic coach had just smiled and declared the redhead second in command, placing the full honor and responsibility around Minami's neck.

He'd stood in shock for a moment before Sengoku had flashed that addictive smile, shouted "Lu-cky!" and given him a rather hard slap on the back.

There was no jealousy in the gesture, and as they planned for the coming season together Minami found himself caught in a constant war. Not for taking command, but for not taking it. He caught himself continuously trying to defer to Sengoku for his talent, and the red-head consistently ducked even lower. Whenever he thought he'd finally managed to shift some responsibility onto the star, something minor, something suited for a singles player, something that required a higher profile than he was used to, his blasted vice captain would just grin and strike back with "Whatever you say Minami-buchou."

And there was no recovering from that.

Sometimes he felt that Sengoku really was the one in control, and he himself was just a marionette, acting at the whim of his two puppeteers.

Other times he knew with one hundred percent accuracy that his fukubuchou would do anything to separate himself from 'responsibility' and 'control.' The boy skipped enough club meetings to be suspended if he were anyone else. He took tennis seriously, they both did, but Sengoku, for all his accolades, seemed determined to treat it as a hobby. If he wasn't having fun there was no point, and so he introduced new elements, new restrictions. He insisted on playing at his opponent's level, "To make it more interesting," he said. He declared Luck his patron goddess and actively threw himself into belief. Minami knew the all-Japan player tapped amazing talent but he also knew that talent and skill weren't enough for his teammate. Sengoku would throw his natural-born grace away in an instant and hang by his teeth from strips of luck and passion if he thought it looked like fun.

Maybe Banji had seen that too, and wanted someone who might look out for the rest of the team every once in a while. Not that there was much point, since Yamabuki seemed to attract the most independent tennis players he'd ever seen. Minami doubted that they even really needed a captain; by the time they made the regulars most Yamabuki students were intimately acquainted with their own personal training needs. Half the time his job amounted to saying 'you know what to do, now do it.'

On the other hand, the figurehead was a necessity. And the independence was only possible because Banji put that effort into them when they joined up. He needed a captain to sort out all the details while he was training the next up-and-coming tennis stars. And as a successful star himself Sengoku was more useful as an inspiration than the voice of authority.

Or maybe, Minami mused as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, Banji knew a 'jimi' was the only person on the team stupid enough to actually pick up the phone at four o'clock in the morning.

Damn smiling bastard.

-owari-

random generator: Minami Kentrou, Banji, 4am.