Dignity
by Cave Inimicum D. H.
A/N: It may get a little confusing but remember that 'he' is a way to lead the story from Ryoma's point of view. English is not my native language, so if there are any mistakes in the story, please let me know.
Disclaimer: The Raven belongs to Edward A. Poe, Prince of Tennis isn't mine (unfortunately) but Takeshi Konomi's. Also a 'Fila cap' isn't a paid advertisement, just so you know.
He found a box on his bed wrapped in a brown paper. He was suspicious but since it was his birthday…
He ripped it open. A card fell out on his bed. He lifted it up and read:
'Happy birthday, Ryoma-kun.
P.S. I hope I won't need to give you a present next year. ;)'
He stared at it and then looked inside the box.
'Oh.'
There was a set of new shiny blades.
'Today is your big day, sweetheart!' Nanjiro yelled at him as soon as he got into the kitchen.
He ignored it and opened the fridge.
'Oi, Ryoma, don't be like this! You know your daddy loves you~!
He sighed and slammed the fridge door.
'You're drunk, go to sleep.'
And he flashed by before his father could say something.
He didn't take anything to eat.
He stood there facing a big building and watching all those happy people. He wasn't ready for school.
The bell started ringing.
He still wasn't ready.
'Maybe Ryoma will translate the poem to us if he's so bored?' He heard that hated voice and he couldn't it was too much he needed to–
'Yes, sir,' he said standing up from his place.
He looked at the board – 'The Raven' by Poe – and smirked a bit. Too easy, Mr. Iwasaki.
He was at the end of translating when the teacher cleared his throat.
'Ryoma, what are you doing? Your translation was supposed to be in kanji.'
He froze with a chalk in his hand.
'Oh no, I didn't tell you earlier? How forgetful of me. And by the way, happy birthday.'
Other students started laughing and he stared at his teacher with horror written on his face.
Mr. Iwasaki winked at him.
'You brat!'
He received a punch to his stomach.
'Watch where you're going!'
He was knocked down onto the floor.
'And never ever dare to show your face here.'
His mind went blank.
There was no regulars on the courts.
He groaned inwardly. What was he supposed to do without them?
'Hello, Echizen. You finally showed up, huh?' Arai grinned evilly at him. 'Today the club's under my presidency, just so you know.'
One problem less, he thought acidly. At least he didn't need to find any entertainment anymore.
'Let's play a match. How many sets did you win as Seigaku's regular, huh, Echizen?'
'…Don't remember.'
Arai laughed.
'Then I won't remember how many I win.'
A fist connected with his left cheek. Blurriness overtook his vision and he couldn't breathe, his mind switched off.
'Fifteen – love, Ryoma.'
He tried his best not to spit at Arai.
When he crawled to the club house, everyone was at their way home now. Relief came upon him the moment he leaned his back on the wall. He winced in pain but brushed it off. He wanted the silence to stay forever.
A drop of blood sliced down his cheek. His fingertips touched the aching place, smearing the blood a little. He closed his eyes and slowly got up to a standing position. He had to wash himself if he wanted to look fine, hadn't he? He made his way to the bathroom and turned on the water.
He didn't want to cry, he really didn't.
Before he opened the door to his house, he made sure the Fila cap was hiding his face from the view. Even if his father was probably too drunk to notice, he didn't want to take any risk.
First something clicked in him when he took a look at the horrific amount of tennis shoes lying outside.
He frowned but an idea of cozy bed appeared in his head. He moved forward.
'OCHIBI, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!'
He knew what was coming. Before Eiji could glomp him, he screamed.
He'd never screamed.
'…Echizen?' He heard Momo whispering in an unsure tone.
He never looked up from behind his cap. He muttered a quick apology and climb up the stairs as fast as he could.
He really didn't blame the regulars. He just didn't want them to know.
All in all, he was alright, right?
He stared at the box still located on his bed.
He felt hot tears streaming down his face.
He reached out for one blade and grab it firmly.
The cap fell to the floor as he let out a sob.
It was… weird. He didn't particularly feel any pain at all, just numbness. Sighing, he threw the blade on the others and licked his wounds.
At this moment his father stepped inside the room.
He abruptly turned around. No one was supposed to see his face right now.
'Ryoma? Are you alright?'
He nodded.
'So how was your day, birthday boy?' Nanjiro asked surprisingly gently.
He stared off into the distance.
'Great,' he said blankly, 'It was great.'
He didn't know what he was doing. He watched as the flames devoured the present box, his English homework, his cap, the blades… The fire reflected in his eyes better than in any mirror.
He raised his sight only when he heard the shouting. He couldn't make out the words, but that was okay. He observed all those boys in somehow slower motion. He felt the blood dripping down his face and he knew they saw it.
Hyotei, he thought amused, and Rikkai Dai.
'Ryoma.'
Did he misheard or was it Fuji's voice?
'Ryoma. Come here.'
'Okay.'
He got up from the floor and stumbling a bit he made his way to the door, luckily sidestepping the fire. His eyes never left Fuji's heartbroken ones.
When he felt older boy's arms wrapping around him, he was almost calm.
At least his friends won't let him go mad.
Everyone was watching him. His eyes were directed at his knees, but he could feel it. And he didn't like it at all.
Yukimura had decontaminated and dressed his wounds. Now they all waited for the explanation.
Silence lasted for another couple of minutes, before Atobe snapped:
'God, brat! Tell us what happened or Ore-sama'll be forced to use some of Ore-sama's special tactics!'
He almost sneered.
'What a disrespectful– '
'It started about two months ago...' He told them everything, even including his father's worsening alcohol problem.
'Ryoma,' Nanjiro was looking at him with distraught.
'But it never was that much, really. Well, until today.'
Fuji was holding his hand tight.
'You know, Ryoma,' said Tezuka, 'you have to build up your self-esteem.'
'Yeah,' he sneered. 'Like I don't have one.'
'Really, as cliché as it appears, you have to start believing in yourself more.' Yukimura decided to join the tirade. After a short while, he added: 'You could do this, you know. Overcome them.'
He would never ask if Yukimura meant his violators or his fears.
'It won't be easy, Ryoma.'
'I know,' he said with a clenched jaw.
'Easy, just sayin'. Nothing to get angry about, boy.'
His first kanji lesson was supposed to start in fifteen minutes. He was having nausea at thought of Yukimura and Tezuka actually teaching him. He still had some remaining dignity in himself.
'Dignity,' said Tezuka, as soon as he heard him grumbling, 'is not when you don't want to take any help from the others. It's when you admit your weaknesses and you learn to overcome them. It can be hard, but that is real dignity. You have to work a lot and not give up to actually maintain it.'
'Che,' he huffed, 'should I write it down and quote to the next generation?'
'You know, mother, everything was easier when you were here. But is easier better? Don't get me wrong, I wish you were with me now. But I am trying to make my life normal again and I can see the progress. It's really inspiring. I know I wouldn't get through if it wasn't for all the support I get from my friends. And dad, dad is really helping me too. You wouldn't believe that he doesn't read his porn magazines anymore! Though I still think he has them under the pillow and enjoys them when nobody's watching. But to the point…'
He hesitated for a moment. A pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist. He leaned back into Syusuke, feeling an unfamiliar wave of joy washing over him.
'As bad as it sounds, I hope I won't meet you anytime soon.'
A/N: This is my first story of PoT, but I hope I'll get to write another ones. This one is somehow about Thrill Pair, but I also love Royal, Sensual and OT6, sooo… Let me know how it went.