Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, (no matter how much I want to) If anyone thought I did, well, I would be wondering if you were smoking PoT….hahaha…no, it really wasn't funny….
A/N: This story has been bugging me for a while so i am justgoing to put it down.I know this story is probably really bad and sounds mary-sue-ish but it really and truely isnt, I love FujiRyo, TezuFuji, TezuRyo, OshiEiji pairings too much to add a mary sue... thiswill probably have some sort of pairing later on so just Fyi.
Beginnings (corny,I know)
"Welcome to Japan," the captain's voice crackled across the PA system, "the time is 10:37 am local time, we should be landing in a few moments, Please take your seats and prepare for landing. And again, welcome to Japan ."
While the stewards and stewardess helped passengers get ready, a girl with blue black hair stared out of the tiny plane window. Her body was twisted to take full advantage of the small 6x8 inch window; her eyes looked on the Japanese geography with wonder. Anyone looking at her would see a girl returning to her home country, but in reality, she was alien to this country as Columbus was to America .
"Um, sorry to disturb you but you must bring your chair back to the upright position." The steward said interrupting her musings.
"Oh, I'm sorry. This is the first time I've been in Japan , actually Asia , I wanted to see everything." It would take more will than the poor over worked steward had to not react to the girls smile. Although this was his second cross continent flight, there was something in the girl's grin that was just infectious. It seemed to lift the exhaustion and jetlag of the flights from his mind. He felt the smile spread across his tired face. It continued until even after the plane landed, all he knew was this girl was something else.
The plane landed smoothly and the passengers began to depart, the steward noticed that the girl was reaching into the over head compartment. He went to help her, "Do you need help getting something down?" when she nodded he continued, "which bag is it?"
"That one," she pointed to the light blue bag with black stripes towards the back of the compartment. "Please be careful, there are some really fragile items in there for my friends."
"Okay," it took more effort than the steward thought to extract the bag; it turned out to be a multiple racket bag. "Do you play Tennis?"
"Only a little and I just play for fun. Mostly I just use the bag as a regular bag." She smile up at him again, "thank you for the help and the flight was just wonderful."
I really should have learned more Japanese and more about their culture before I decided that it would be a great idea to travel to Japan . The blue-black haired girl mused to herself. She at a normal height for her age she was five feet five inches tall, actually in her high school she was considered lower average. However in this strange country she felt like a giant, all the women were a head shorter then she was, she was the height of most the taller men. Dammit why do people have to be so short, instead of feeling superior, like she had told her friends she felt like a side show freak. Everyone is probably staring at me, staring at the American Godzilla.
Actually, she blended in fairly well with all the traffic. The only thing that was different was that she was slightly taller than most folks but she wasn't quite towering above them like she felt.
The best course of action she felt was to quickly find a taxi to bring her to where she was staying. She dragged her luggage and adjusted the strap to her tennis bag on her shoulder and went to the customer service counter in the airport, "kon-nee-che-wa, go-men, do you speak English?" she ended the sentence quickly in English, the customer service officer nodded, "where would I find the taxis?"
The officer told her in broken but passable English that the taxi "station" was located two terminals down and toward the right. "Arigato," the girl said with a wave. She tried to follow the directions but she got lost, and it took several attempts for her to find the taxis.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she flagged down a taxi and loaded her bags and got into the back of the car. She told the driver the address where she wanted to go. Maybe my Japanese isn't as bad as I thought it was, if the driver understood everything I said. What? He thinks I am Japanese? Why else would he be talking to me in Japanese…I can make out about 75 percent of what he is saying…better humor him or else he might try to scam me… that was one of the things she learned when she traveled around Europe, tourist and foreigners were taken advantage of when they least suspected it. It wasn't that hard to convince the driver, all he did was talk in a monolog pausing only enough for her to insert a "hai" or an "iie" when it was needed.
When he stopped and said they were at the address she thanked him and paid him, adding a good tip. He helped unload her luggage all except for her tennis bag, which she kept with her, not trusting the driver's driving skills. He said goodbye and drove off.
It was along time, well not really, about half a year since Ryoma and his family moved back to Japan . She and Ryoma, the son, were about the same age, she only younger then he was by a month. The place that was right in front of her looked more like a temple then a home, it had a concrete wall around the yard and in the middle of it was a central building. From the front, she could barely make out a gazebo with one of those big bells that monks ring. Since when did the family turn into monks? It made her think that she had the wrong address, before she could panic she saw a sign, "Echizen Residence" the plaque said.
So I didn't have the wrong address. She looked around the fence for some sort of doorbell but couldn't see any. She pushed the door to see if it was open, and sure enough it was open. No one was around. She brought her luggage up to the front door and knocked. Nothing. She knocked again. Silence.