I have no excuse for this crossover. Ignore the horrible incompatibility of the universes and take it for what it's worth – a random whim.

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon or Prince of Tennis.

No Challenge

By Moonlit Aura

Satoshi stared at the portraits in awe and admiration. Each one depicted a past Master, and for the boy who was seeking to join their ranks, such a sight was breathtaking.

"Satoshi, are you done drooling over those stupid paintings? It's late and I'm starving."

Satoshi flushed in embarrassment. "Kasumi!"

"Now Kasumi. There's no need to rush," their companion said calmly. "It's only four."

"I haven't eaten since nine Takeshi!" the redhead retorted. "And for that matter, neither have you and Mr. Human Garbage Disposal over there. I honestly thought he'd be the first to beg for food."

"What can I say?" Satoshi replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "All of these amazing trainers… It sort of made me forget about eating."

"Are you done, Satoshi?" the Pokémon breeder asked.

"Almost," the boy replied. "There's just one more picture I need to see. The current Master."

With a cry of excitement Satoshi grabbed Kasumi arm, ignoring her yelp of surprise, and forded through the crowd to the final room.

Where they were promptly greeted by a blank wall.

"WHAT?" Satoshi exclaimed, outraged. "Where is it?"

"Looking for the portrait of the current Master, are you?" one of the museum staff said. "I'm afraid there isn't one."

"No picture?" Satoshi groaned. "That's lame…"

"No, I mean there's no current Master," the man replied.

"No Master?" Takeshi asked, stunned. "But there was a new one, just a few years ago. And rather young too. What was his name?"

"Fuji Shusuke," Satoshi said promptly. "I was his biggest fan. Only 11 years old and he was already a Master. He was my hero."

"Yes. Master Fuji was the youngest Master in history," the man said. "But not even a year after he became the Master, he suddenly gave up Pokémon."

"Gave up?" Satoshi said in disbelief.

"Can you even do that?" Kasumi asked quietly. Togepi chirped sadly in her arms.

"It seems he grew bored."

"Bored? BORED? You can't give up being the Pokémon Master simply because you're BORED!" Satoshi screamed.

"He retired to his home village of Tokyo," the museum guide continued, ignoring Satoshi's outburst.

With a final strangled scream, Satoshi stormed out of the museum, Kasumi and Takeshi hurrying in his wake.


"What's the next town?" Kasumi asked Takeshi, who had his faced buried in the map. The older male looked up hesitantly.


They both turned to look at Satoshi, whose face had gone from boredom to anger. Pikachu jumped from his trainer's shoulders, sensing the upcoming storm.

"I don't even care," Satoshi said, though the anger in his voice said otherwise. "Let's get there so we can leave. Besides, I'm hungry."

"That's a relief," Takeshi sighed. "I was afraid you would want to find and confront Fuji, but since you don't care-"

"That's a great idea!" Satoshi said, brightening. "I would never have thought of doing that. Thanks Takeshi!" He sprinted off up the path. Kasumi snorted.

"Way to go Takeshi."


Tokyo was an odd town. Despite its size, there was no gym and only a very small Pokémon Center. It was almost as if Pokémon didn't exist.

It was even odder that this was where a former Master had been born and raised. Satoshi fidgeted under the stares from the townsfolk as they eyed his Pikachu. The electric Pokémon chirped nervously.

"Excuse me," Takeshi asked, approaching one woman. The woman gave off an air of cold politeness at his address, which much nicer than any reception Satoshi or Kasumi would probably have received. "Could you tell me where Fuji Shusuke lives?"

"So you're another one of THOSE types of trainers," the woman replied icily. "Don't bother poor Fuji-kun with your stupid ideas. I think it'd be best if you just left town."

"Honda-san!" a younger girl cried. "You shouldn't be so mean to guests."

The older woman huffed in disapproval and turned on her heel, leaving the younger girl with Satoshi, Kasumi, and Takeshi as she strode off at a brisk pace. The young girl bowed.

"Sorry about that," the girl said. "Honda-san has had some bad experiences with some trainers bothering Fuji-san."

"I understand," Takeshi said. "I don't suppose we could convince you that we're not like that?" Behind him, Kasumi was shooting warning glares at Satoshi, who was practically bouncing with impatience.

"Don't worry," the girl said with a laugh. "I'll tell you where you to go, of course. Fuji-san won't be at home at this time of day, but I can guess where you'll find him. But if I tell you, you have to do me a favor, 'mkay?

"Could you give this to Momoshiro Takeshi?" the girl asked, holding out a letter. "I was actually heading there now, but I might be late for practice, and Captain will scold me, so take this to Takeshi for me, and I'll tell you where Fuji-san is."

"All right," Takeshi replied. The girl grabbed a letter from her bag and after adding a few last-minute notes, held it out to Takeshi. He took the letter and tucked it into his vest pocket. "Now where are we supposed to go?"

"Seigaku," the girl replied. "Look for Fuji-san and Takeshi at the tennis courts. And if some girl with twin braids tries to give you directions, ignore them and ask someone else."

"Thank you…"

"Tachibana An," the girl – An – said.


It was a grumbling Satoshi that followed Takeshi as they finally – finally! – found made their way to the Seigaku tennis courts. Takeshi took in the sheer number of tennis club members and shook his head.

"It'll take forever to find either Fuji Shusuke or Momoshiro Takeshi in this crowd."

"And I suppose asking is out of the question?" Kasumi asked rhetorically. "Men…"

With a sigh, the red-head approached a group of younger boys who were gathering up some weird yellow balls.

"Excuse me," Kasumi said, trying to make herself look and sound as adorable as possible. When the three young boys flushed, she gave a mental cheer. And Satoshi said she had no appeal…

"I'm terribly sorry to bother you," Kasumi began, twisting her body this way and that. Gazing up at them with wide, innocent eyes. (This was harder than it sounded. Two of the boys were shorter than Kasumi! It was hard to look cute when you were towering over most of the guys in the vicinity. Stupid middle-schoolers…)

"Could you please tell me which one of those boys is Momoshiro Takeshi? I have some thing for him from a Tachibana An."

One of the boys – the one in the outrageously tacky shirt, smirked, but the shorter of the two others nodded.

"Sure. I'll go get him for you. Momo-chan-senpai!"

The boy that turned to answer the call was tall for a middle-schooler. He had short black hair that stuck up in all sorts of odd directions. Kasumi didn't see what was so special about him, but then he smiled, and Kasumi could sort of see the appeal, if one was into the rouge-ish type.

He jogged over their way as Kasumi liberated An's letter from Takeshi's pocket.


"I'm sorry for bothering you," Kasumi said. "But my friends and I met Tachibana An on our way over, and she asked us to give you this letter." She held it out with both hands. The boy accepted it happily.

"Something from An-chan?" he said gleefully. Without waiting for a reply, the boy tore into the letter. Kasumi waited patiently as Momoshiro perused the note's contents. After a final nod, Momoshiro addressed Kasumi, Satoshi, and Takeshi.

"So, An-chan said that you three wanted to see Fuji-senpai?"

"Mostly Satoshi," Kasumi said, motioning towards the boy.

"Is Master Fuji here?" Satoshi said suddenly.

Momoshiro's expression darkened, but he nodded all the same.

"Yeah, Fuji-senpai's here. I'll have to talk to buchou first, but I think he'll agree to give Fuji-senpai a short break if it'll get you three to leave."

Momoshiro left quickly. He talked to another boy, this one wearing glasses and a stern expression. The other boy's face tightened and his eyebrows narrowed. He said something to Momoshiro, who bowed and got the attention of a thin, delicate boy. The pair made their way over to Satoshi.

"These are the guys An-chan mentioned in her letter," Momoshiro was saying as they approached. "They're trainers, of course, but An-chan said they were different than all the others."

"It's all right, Momo," the shorter boy said with a smile. "I'm used to it, after all. Tell Tezuka I shouldn't be too long. Ten minutes at most."

"Whatever, Fuji-senpai. Just don't terrorize them too badly."

"I'll do my best Momoshiro."

"Why does that not reassure me?" Mmoshiro said with a sigh. "Well, whatever. I'm gonna go back to practice Fuji-senpai. That damn Mamushi will never let me hear the end of it if we loose the next practice match with Oishi-senpai and Kikumaru-senpai."

Momoshiro dashed back towards the tennis courts. The smaller boy turned towards them with a smile.

"I am Fuji Shusuke. What can I do for you?"

There was a brief awkward pause. Kasumi and Takeshi were both focused on Satoshi, waiting for the irate trainer to make the first move. The black-haired boy fidgeted, unsure how to proceed in the face of Fuji's constant smile.

"If you're not going to say anything," the middle-schooler said without any change in expression, "I'll be heading back to practice."

"Why did you leave?"

Fuji smile widened as he gazed at the younger trainer. The tennis genius approached Satoshi and one hand absently reached up to caress Pikachu, who mewed in content.

"I got bored."

"Bored?" Satoshi said. "You were the best! The youngest Master ever! No one could challenge you! How could you possibly get bored?"

"There was no challenge."

Satoshi was brought up short by the announcement.

"No challenge?"

"Let me rephrase it," Fuji said. "Your goal is to become the Pokémon Master, is it not?"

"'Course," Satoshi replied without thinking.

"And what will you do after?"


Fuji laughed hollowly. "Suppose you reach the top and you defeat every trainer there is. You're the one and only Pokémon Master. Now what? What do you do next? What can you do next?"

Satoshi stared in horrified understanding.

"There was no challenge anymore. So I quit."

"Oi. Fuji-senpai."

A small boy in a cap approached, tennis racquet in hand. Fuji turned back to the boy with a smile.

"Yes, Ryoma-chan?"

"Are you done yet," the boy complained. "I want a rematch, and practice is almost over."

"Very well, Ryoma-chan," Fuji said. "I'll be there shortly."

"Mada mada dane."

"If you'll excuse me then," Fuji said to the three Trainers. He followed the smaller boy back to the courts.

"No… challenge…" Satoshi murmured to himself, trying to acquaint himself with the concept. It wasn't something that had ever occurred to him. Every time he passed a landmark, there had always been some new goal. That couldn't change, Satoshi thought. There would always be some new challenge to undertake, someone stranger than himself to defeat.

But if there wasn't…

Satoshi silently left the school behind, Kasumi and Takeshi trailing behind him.