Try This

My first fanfic. worked 3 hours in the middle of the night. moderate flames accepted.

I don't own tennis no ohjisma. I wish I did. then I could really manipulate the characters ;D

-valfare

:+:+:+:+:

Echizen Ryoma stared up at the ceiling as he woke up. It's Sunday, no practice today. Dragging himself out of bed, he could smell the familiar scent of bacon and eggs drafting through the house. Bacon and eggs again? We're in Japan! He slowly trudged to the table.

"Ohayo Ryoma-kun," his cousin greeted him. Doesn't she know how to cook anything else for breakfast?

"Ohayo"

Ryoma scanned the room for a sign of his father. Usually the older Echizen was somewhere about the house, but today it was oddly quiet. Where could he have gone?

As Ryoma got up from the table, Echizen Nanjiro popped in.

"Where were you?" asked Ryoma cocking an eyebrow.

"Filling up the car," his father replied, his back turned as he picked up the newspaper from the table, "I've got to take you to your lesson. Don't tell me you forgot."

Ryoma wasn't getting tennis lessons; not many people in Japan were up to his level. Instead, he had been bribed into helping out Ryuzaki Sakuno, the granddaughter of his former coach. He wouldn't have agreed under normal circumstances, however, Ryuzaki sensei offered him a meal of sushi at Kawamura-senpai's restaurant. An ample bribe.

"Be ready in fifteen minutes," Nanjiro called as he walked to the bathroom to wash up.

They picked her up a little after 10 o'clock a.m. Still groggy from oversleeping, she managed an "Ohayo Ryoma-kun" before collapsing into the seat next to him.

"Where's Tomo-chan?" Ryoma looked puzzled.

Sakuno suddenly woke, stuttering an "Um, nobody said she was coming" before blushing and looking away.

As they drove in the direction of the tennis courts, Ryoma thought, Well, at least she won't get distracted today. He recalled the previous times when Tomo chan came along, always trying to attract Ryoma's attention but instead making Sakuno more nervous.

"It looks like a good day to play," commented the older Echizen as the car rolled to a stop. "You kids have fun."

Ryoma and Sakuno stepped out of the car and trotted to the nearest open court. Ryoma noticed that the hopper of balls he brought with him had been filled not with cheap practice balls like usual but brand new Penn championships, Ryoma's favorite American tennis balls. How'd those get in there? Strange.

The court they chose was secluded; the next nearest one was about a hundred yards away. Perfect. He picked it because it was by itself - stray balls would stay close and Sakuno wouldn't have any visual or audio distractions.

Ryoma and Sakuno stretched together before he moved the hopper to the North side of the court, placing it in the space between the service line and the base line. He picked up a few balls.

"Let's begin with your form," said Ryoma as he motioned for Sakuno to the opposite side of the court.

After about twenty out-of-control returns, Ryoma stopped feeding the balls. Sakuno looked down as he approached the net. Is he already frustrated with my terrible returns? Sakuno sulked.

"Let me see your racquet," Ryoma called as he stared at the pink thing clutched in her hands.

She nodded and handed him the racquet. Was something wrong with it? I hope it's not broken. Surely it wasn't the wrong kind; her grandmother had picked the frame herself. My other one lasted two whole years. I've only had this for six months!

"Just as I thought," said Ryoma as he carried the racquet over to where their bags lay.

"What is it?" Sakuno asked, puzzled.

"How long have you had this?"

"Um maybe six months? I try not to dent it."

"Dents aren't the problem," Ryoma explained with a grin, "your strings are way too loose, they must have stretched too much since you first got it. They need to be replaced."

Oh no, thought Sakuno as the possibility of a shortened practice crossed her mind. She did want to get better. Sakuno looked down, closing her eyes, disappointed. However, when she opened them, just the smallest crack, she was startled by the movement of something red.

"Try this," Ryoma said, handing her one of his many backup racquets, then turned to walk back to the half-full ball hopper.

Sakuno looked down at the expensive pro racquet Ryoma had just let her borrow. He trusts me, clumsy Sakuno, with one of his nice twenty-five thousand yen racquets?

"Arigato," she said, hugging the racquet to her chest as she took her place again.

Now I can see what's wrong, thought Ryoma as he watched Sakuno perform an ungraceful rendition of a Justine Henin backhand. It was easy to see her jerky motions; especially since she wore a short sleeveless tennis shirt and equally short skirt. He did take notice that she didn't look bad at all. He never really noticed her at all, but today, they were alone. Of course, Ryoma was watching her body movements, too occupied with analysis to think deeper thoughts.

After they finished the rest of the balls, and picked them all up, Ryoma walked over to her side of the court, and then turned to face his back to her.

"Try to copy this," he said, then began to repeat successive forehands and backhands.

He then turned around to watch her motion. It was still a little off track, her chest wasn't twisting to face the direction of her opponent.

What is Ryoma staring at? She continued to repeat forehand and backhand strokes. She followed his gaze … down … to her body. She noticed for the first time that the clothes she was wearing were somewhat revealing, and, well … he was staring at her body, her chest, her waist, her legs. No. He couldn't be thinking of that. He's probably just watching my strokes … then again … he is staring. Well, he is in high school now, and boys his age begin to think of… She shook the thought from her mind. That's not Ryoma.

Suddenly she felt hands on her shoulders - he was behind her now. They moved down past her elbows to her wrist. She tensed and almost shrieked with surprise, but for some reason, she stopped herself and instead began to follow the guidance of his hands. No need to worry; he's just leading me. Her jerky swings slowly melted into long, smooth, powerful strokes. She felt warmth from Ryoma, who was close behind her, not touching except for his strong hands on her body. Although he was only leading her stroke, she felt something… a warm feeling spreading through her body, calm, patient, relaxing. Is this Ryoma?

"Can you feel the way I want you to move?" he asked.

She smiled, "Hai."

Ever since Ryoma won the All-Japan title for Seigaku, Sakuno wanted to get better at tennis. Sometimes she was able to convince Ryoma to help her out, and other times her grandmother bribed him to. Tomo-chan came along every time. He had always been a good help. She wanted to be serious about tennis. She cut her hair so it wouldn't get in the way, practiced daily, and of course, had him there to help her out. However, Tomo-chan didn't come today. It was just the two of them, Sakuno and Ryoma… alone. In the past few years, she never felt this warmth, this feeling. Something is definitely different.

Ryoma began to feed balls from the other side of the court again, this time increasing the pace a little. However, instead of hitting balls too hard and deep, or lobbing them lazily towards the base line, her shots came back solid, accurate, and with much more speed. A few went too deep but most of them came low across the net and into the corners.

"Much better. That's a flat shot," Ryoma called from across the court.

Sakuno just smiled back and whipped a ball back into the corner. She could still feel it. The memory of the moment before brought a calm over her, slowing her movement down to another smooth, silky, coordinated return placed between Ryoma's legs. Ryoma is amazing.

Two hours later, Ryoma and Sakuno packed their bags and collected the scattered balls.

Wiping her drenched forehead with a small towel, she handed back the expensive red racquet she borrowed from Ryoma. However, he pushed it back to her.

"You'll need it if I'm going to string and tune your racquet. I'll bring yours back Tuesday, so you can use that one for now."

Sakuno stared in disbelief. Not even Horio, who breaks his strings regularly, has gotten Ryoma to string his racquets let alone borrow one of Ryoma's. She managed to sputter a short "Arigato," hugging the racquet to her chest again. His racquet. Ryoma trusts me with it.

Ryoma looked up at the bright mid-day sky, "Where to now?"

"To the sushi you were promised of course!"

Ryoma was caught off-guard. Sakuno is the one treating me to sushi?

Before he could say anything, Sakuno explained, "My grandmother will pick us after lunch."

Ryoma still couldn't hide his surprise. Did someone do this purposely? Together they silently walked to Kawamura's sushi bar.

"Echizen! Sakuno-chan!" burst Kawamura Taka as they entered. They sat down at a table for two. Sakuno and Ryoma together… alone.

"Thank you for all the help today," said Sakuno, trying to stir up conversation again, "I… I think today… h-helped a lot. I feel more confident in my stroke now."

"Well, I guess it did improve your shots a lot." I wouldn't have helped her like that if Tomo-chan were around… she'd kill me. I knew it would help.

They both went silent again: Ryoma stared off to space; Sakuno's gaze fixed itself to the cups of hot tea on the table. Not a single "mada mada dane" from him yet. They ate silently, not sure what to say next.

As he chewed, Ryoma thought himself. Today wasn't a waste of time like before. She improved a lot today. It is different. She's changed. She's not the annoying girl's friend, not Ryuzaki-sensei's granddaughter. All these years she's always cheered for me… come to me for help… made me lunch almost daily… now I know why. She's a friend. Maybe even… more?

As they got up to leave, Sakuno blushed, "Thank you for today, it was fun practicing with you."

At that moment, he knew. He knew he felt something. It was more than an emotion. The warmth that he felt when he helped her improve her stroke, the way she looked at him, the way he looked at her now, it all came together into a new feeling: a warm, fuzzy, comforting feeling. Is this…? He had to tell her, to ask if she felt the same. He knew he couldn't wait.

"Sakuno-chan, I think… I think… when I'm with you… I feel different… something… special."

She stared at him. Could it be? Her heart fluttered.

"…do you feel the same?"

But as she was about to respond, their ride pulled up to the curb.

Hearts pounding, they sat in Sakuno's grandmother's car, once again silent. She was of course, Ryuzaki-sensei, the former coach of both Ryoma himself and his father.

Is this Ryoma? Sakuno blushed again. …he felt it too?

Ryoma was frightened. I just spilled myself, I admitted that I felt something for her and well… she won't be able to reply until tomorrow. What if she won't talk to me ever again? He might lose her before he could get her. Baka, he thought, you're an idiot, Ryoma.

Ryuzaki-sensei slowed to a stop in front of the Echizen residence. Ryoma thanked her for the ride, grabbed his tennis bag, and proceeded to step out of the car. To his surprise, Sakuno stepped out as well, grabbing the handle of Ryoma's ball hopper that was sitting in the trunk.

"Let me help you with this," she said, still blushing.

They walked together to his door. Suddenly Ryoma felt a hand on his own, drawing his away from him, turning his body around to face hers. She then took his other hand, smiling, giving him a look he'd never seen before. This time, the feeling was stronger, more inviting.

"I feel it too," she said and then pulled him closer and kissed his cheek, wrapping her arms around his body. Her warmth spread through him like electricity, however, ecstasy flowed instead of pain. Ryoma pulled his arms tightly around her body. They stood silently, entangled in embrace. She can feel it too. He looked up at her and, without thought, pressed his lips to hers, released, and looked into her eyes. Both of them now understood the warmth they felt from each other - it was… love. Minutes later, they pulled apart. "Thank you again for today," smiled Sakuno, no longer afraid.

"I'm free next Sunday… are you busy?" asked Ryoma with a new confidence. Nothing to hide now.

This is why I've always watched him…after all these years.


"It's a date."

And they released their grips simultaneously, smiling.

Ryoma-kun…ai shiteru.

It's a date.