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.
