Title : Chibi-napped
Mod you're writing for : Chibisuke
Writers : Apple Snapple, Frog-kun, finding, Eternal. Angel (Kura note: Sorry Angieko your name got cut off by FFnet doc manager. D:)
Betas: , SakuraIroKaze
Genre(s) : Suspense
Pairing(s) : N/A
School(s) : Seigaku
Wordlength : Multi-chapter
Summary : When a mysterious man kidnaps Ryoma, it's up to Nanjiroh and the regulars to find out who did it and why.
Author's note : N/A
It was dusk and Echizen Ryoma was walking home alone. Tennis practice had ended rather late that day and Ryoma felt tired. When he got home, he would flop on his bed and do nothing. Well, sleep, maybe.
Lifting a small, pale hand to his face, Ryoma threw his head back and yawned. He then slipped his hand back to the strap of his slightly lopsided tennis bag. As the familiar material rubbed against his skin, he thought about his tennis and what he would do the next day. There was still much he wanted to accomplish.
Perhaps it was because he was tired that Ryoma didn't notice a man approach him. It was getting dark and so Ryoma couldn't make out the stranger's face but the shape and height was most definitely that of a male.
The man spoke as Ryoma walked past. It was a familiar voice.
"Let's play a little game..."
Ryoma perked up upon hearing 'game'. It was a reflexive action built up over the years of tennis -- 'game' always was a synonym for 'challenge', at least in Ryoma's book, and the Prince of Tennis never did turn down a challenge.
"Che." He smirked almost triumphantly, swinging his racket over one shoulder. "Be prepared to lose." Fatigue from practice had long since been forgotten at the presumed tennis match.
The man only smiled in reply, beckoning with his finger for Ryoma to follow him.
And like the true blue tennis-crazy twelve-year-old he was, he strolled along behind and could not help but inwardly think about how comfortable that limo with the black tinted windows must be, and how much he'd kill to be immersed in the air-conditioning and mini fridges right about now.
The limo pulled over before them, now shadows in the last lights. A figure emerged. His arms were wide open, as if in an over-the-top welcoming gesture.
The buzzing warning lights that should have gone off in Ryoma's head failed to go off. Tennis. Some idiot wants to challenge me to tennis.
Before he could react -- which only happened to Ryoma when he was thinking too much about tennis -- he was whirled away by those welcoming arms and pulled into the limousine, and they were speeding along nameless high roads next thing he knew.
The man took another glance at the boy sitting beside him, sleeping peacefully with a smirk on his face, arms tied behind his back with a long piece of rope. He had captured the boy all too easily; he was surprised at how willingly the boy had come to his side. It made his life a whole lot easier, but he still could not put it past him how easily the boy had walked right into his trap.
The boy had gotten close enough for the man to pull him into the limousine, and before the boy could protest the handkerchief was already there, masking his face until he started feeling drowsy, and eventually fell into a deep slumber. Now he had the boy in his hands, an effective weapon that would help him further his plans.
He looked at the boy yet again, and vowed that he would erase the smirk off his face. The smirk, the smile, the fulfillment didn't belong there, definitely not on his face. He was the son of Nanjiroh, he had no right to comfort, to happiness. As they arrived at their destination, the boy slowly came to, opening his eyes slowly and blinking, clearly not understanding why he was here. Confusion was etched on his face as he realized that he was unable to move his arms.
The boy turned and looked at him. "What's happening?"
However, the man didn't say a word as he turned to face the window. He remained silent as he took out a cigarette box from the pocket of his shirt and squeezed out a cigarette from it, crushing the box slightly. He stuffed the box back inside the pocket it came from and took out a lighter instead. After lighting his cigarette, he stowed away the lighter and took a puff. Sighing, the man finally turned his back from Ryoma and looked at him straight in the eyes. The sharpness and reflection of the man's eyes were clear and bright, and the boy could see his own reflection.
"You'll see for yourself," the man said with a sly smile. "You'll see."
The limousine came to a sudden stop, nearly throwing Echizen off of his seat since he had nothing to hold on to with his hands bound. The locks clicked open, and the man gripped Ryoma by the end of his shirt, wrinkling it all over. The boy could do nothing but struggle as the car's door opened, and the man dragged Ryoma out, with two of his men behind him.
Ryoma lifted his eyes so that they shifted towards the direction the man was taking him. He saw a strange, eerie building that seemed deserted, like it had been abandoned for a while now, and no one bothered to fix it up or lease it out to customers for use. The windows were boarded up with stiff, moldy colored pieces of wood, and there was glass scattered all over the place.
Why? Ryoma wondered. Why was this happening to him? What was the reason for kidnapping him, or whatever was going on? His parents weren't rich. He had no idea what to do in a situation like this.
And for the first time, a particularly unsettling sensation came upon him. He looked down at the ground, feeling like he was going to be sick. The wind, whipping around his head, felt chillingly cold.
He was scared.