Tennis no Oujisama Nationals OVA Ep. 15 – Thoughts

With a beautiful face, gorgeous blue eyes, silky brown hair, pale skin, slender figure, and quiet, gentle voice, Fuji Syuusuke, to be honest, has got to be one of the most boring main characters from this series.

A shock to those of you who know me? Yes. I do think Fuji is boring, at least as far as a character reputation goes. Even more boring than Ryoma. Why?

Because he’s never, ever lost a match.

“Genius” Fuji Syuusuke, “Tensai” Fuji Syuusuke, whatever you care to call him. Put aside the fangirl drool-inducing appearance and you’ve a pretty shallow character. We don’t really get to see deep into Fuji, aside from the fact he’s a sadist and likes to see other people suffer more than basically anything else, and that he is obsessively protective of his younger brother Yuuta. We know that Fuji has a habit of showing up randomly behind people, sneaking along in the background (I, quite clearly, remember one episode where my eye was caught by Fuji ever-so-conspicuously walking past), and is a technical genius when it comes to tennis.

Still, the fact that he’s never lost serves to dull his character.

Fuji could be a rather good well-rounded character, if he’d have a good history of losing matches. Since he’s never lost, he’s never had a reason to really try to improve, just the same as anyone else in a situation like unto it. Why fix what’s not broken?

In contrast, Ryoma is constantly losing, if only to his father. While it did take losing to Tezuka-buchou to stimulate Ryoma to improve himself, Ryoma has, time after time, been pushed into corners that require him evolving to some degree in order to scrape a victory, basically right from the very start.

Fuji doesn’t have that. So, disregarding the blatant humour I like to poke at Fuji while watching episodes, he rather seems to fade into the background and, story progressive-wise, become as obscure as some of the characters that you don’t see much. At least to me.

Until this episode.

In the Nationals, in the battle against Osaka’s Shitenhouji Chuu, Fuji faces off against the captain of Shitenhouji’s tennis team, Shiraishi Kuranosuke. And, right off the bat, an epic and miraculous thing happens:

Fuji can’t win. Not even a point.

I won’t deny the fact I was a little excited. Seeing someone lose is always fun, even if at the same time I feel bad because it does negatively affect their team. But since it was Fuji, I really didn’t feel too bad. To see Shiraishi’s “Tennis Bible” consecutively break down all of Fuji’s Triple Counters and make Fuji scramble desperately for a way to win was wholly pleasant, as nasty as it may sound.

Watching Fuji run all over the court, I thought to myself, “Finally, Fuji will lose. This way, he’ll evolve. This way, he’ll become better. This way, he can change. He won’t stay the same throughout the entire series. That’s good.” Developing characters are always more interesting than static ones, even if it means in-universe suffering and defeat. Sometimes, to be honest, I wish something like this would happen a little more often in fiction. I’ve read too many books, too many stories, where the main character(s) continue to win, win, win, with whatever they already had going for them and just keep going on, no harm done, or where they just stay the same no matter what happens.

For awhile, I was afraid the same thing would happen here – that maybe Fuji just had no interest in winning and thus wasn’t trying. It sounds ridiculous, especially at a stage like the National Tournaments, but I wouldn’t put it past Fuji to be so casual. He’s shown before he really couldn’t be made to care less about a match.

But, it seems something about Shiraishi pushed Fuji to become better.

Okay, so my heart did ache a little bit to see Fuji so beaten. But just a little. As I’ve mentioned, it’s for his own good, as a character and as a competitor.

With a beatdown from Shiraishi, one game from a perfect loss, and a little bit of cockiness from Ryoma, Fuji got to his feet and entered the realm of character development.

… Well, at least visibly, the realm technique development.

Tsubame Gaeshi (Swallow Return), a move which utilizes the opponent’s return, hits the ground and due to the incredible amount of topspin, rolls along the court. Shiraishi defeats this move by returning it before it hits the ground. Tsubame Gaeshi becomes Houou Gaeshi (Phoenix Return), which has the same concept save that it drops a lot faster and closer to the net.

Higuma Otoshi (Bear Drop), which neutralizes the force of an opponent’s smash and returns the ball, which bounces right inside the baseline. Shiraishi was too strong for Fuji to completely neutralize the spin. Higuma Otoshi becomes Qilin Otoshi (Qilin Drop), in which Fuji uses both hands to return the ball, thus able to control the force of Shiraishi’s return.

Hakugei (White Whale), where Fuji causes the ball to “hop” into the air by forcing more spin onto the ball. It lands just inside the baseline and returns to Fuji’s hand with the help of the wind. Shiraishi broke this by waiting at the net to hit the ball back. Hakugei becomes Hakuryuu (White Dragon), which, instead of returning to Fuji, bounces off to the side.

And finally, Fuji completes his “final counter”, Hecatonchires no Monban (Gatekeeper of Hecantochires). He quadruples the spin of the ball and returns it. Due to the incredible spin, the ball will not go past the net…. effectively scaring the living daylights out of Shiraishi and myself.

Well, that’s good and all… but has anything become of Fuji’s personality in the meantime?

Yeah, I think so.

Forgive the long episode summary, but I think it’s a good background to looking into hints that Fuji might have changed and become a deeper character.

Now, you can call this the AP Literature student in me, but I’ve found symbolism in the evolution of Fuji’s technique that may denote a change in his personality, however slight. While all four mythical beings – phoenix, qilin, dragon, and Hecatonchires – may simply be recognized as just powerful, fantastical beings, they can be read deeply. Syncretion, I think is the art history word for it. Tabun.

First of all, the implications of “Houou.” We all know the story of the phoenix’s triumphant revival from its ashes after it has burst into flame at the end of its life. Anyone that’s read Harry Potter should know that, and if you did read that whole series and don’t know, shame on you. This, to me, is a rather explicit symbol – Fuji has realized he cannot continue on as he was, and, after destruction, begins to rise higher than he had before.

A “qilin”, to anyone unfamiliar with the term (including myself), is a mythological Chinese beast. From my reading on the subject, it symbolizes the Chinese ruì, serenity and peace. It punishes the wicked and is normally gentle, but can become fierce if a pure person is threatened by a sinner. Assuming the name “qilin” was meant to be read into this far, we can scrape out of this Fuji’s attitude towards his trouncing, and towards Shiraishi.

Now “ryuu” or dragon. In China, the 5-clawed dragon was the symbol of the emperor and a representative of the primal nature of earth, religion, and the universe, of wisdom, and longevity. Aside from these powerful implications as to what (maybe) Fuji sees of himself, there is also the ancient Japanese belief that seahorses one day grow into full-fledged dragons – an idea of something humble and small becoming great.

Finally, the Hecantonchires were three colossal figures of archaic Greek mythology and were part of the beginning of things, as they were the children of Uranus and Gaia. Supposedly, they were giants of incredible strength and ferocity. … Perhaps Fuji is not just honourably naming his moves, but again implying his opinion of himself?

Of course, these things may or may not be read into so deeply, as I believe I have already disclaimed.

And, what if we aren’t supposed to read into the names of Fuji’s techniques? What else points in the direction that he’s changed, something that’s already there that doesn’t require deep-reading?

Flashbacks are always a good clue.

A few episodes earlier, Fuji remembers that when confronted by Tezuka-buchou, upon hearing why Tezuka plays tennis, that he asked to be removed from the team, should he be standing in the way of Tezuka’s goal. Another flashback reveals that Fuji is aware he needs to be stronger in order to continue to win.

Situational hints are also good.

I think that after watching his teammates sacrifice so much and try their very hardest to win, Fuji feels pressured to not lose. At one point, after his “revival” initiated by Ryoma, Fuji screams, “I cannot allow myself to lose this match!” as he dashes to return a near-unreachable ball. Whether for selfish reasons, or because he does feel connected to the team on some level, Fuji demonstrates that, for once, he does want to win and he will push himself to the limits in order to accomplish a win.

Fortunately for anyone that is like me whom appreciates a character not having a perfect record, Fuji does lose. Thanks to Shiraishi, even Hecatonchires is broken by the end, after long, grueling attempts to counter the move. Shiraishi figures out that topspin will counter whatever spin Fuji has put on the ball, and, after going into tiebreak, Fuji slips up and smashes the ball barely outside the baseline, granting Shiraishi a 7-6 win.

Oh, stepping aside from Fuji, I'd like to mention another thing I like about this episode – the end of the match. It’s so nice to see good sportsmanship. Though Fuji is visibly upset, Shiraishi’s face tells no lies when he says “You’re strong” to his opponent. Fuji, with a weary smile, accepts the handshake. Back to Fuji and his possible personality change, he looks extremely frustrated and upset with himself when he sits down. He doesn’t seem to be able to bring himself to look at the rest of the team. That inof itself should be a good indication that something deep within Fuji, who has never before shown such great regret for the outcome of a match, has changed.

What grants me ability to ramble on about this happening with Fuji is the fact that the other characters have mentioned it before. Since Fuji's never gotten serious in a match, he's felt no inclination to win. Since he's never been under the threat of losing, he's felt no reason to improve, or to do his best.

It will be interesting to see if, in the future, Fuji will again cross somebody that can push him this far, and, if so, whether or not he has allowed this experience to teach him a valuable lesson.

/story and plotline comments.

A small technical compliment: I like these OVA episodes because the matches are never longer than two episodes at most. A match can be intense, but if it’s stretched out over four or five episodes like what happened in the anime, it does get a little dull. For a match like this, I think twenty minutes was a perfect amount of time to capture the highlights, get the important plot points down, and wrap it all up without losing intensity or anything of the sort.

In my opinion, "Roar" is truly a good example of an excellent episode.

[Screencaps taken by me, so if you take, please credit to me :)]