A/n: So, I was trying to write the next chapter of Prove Them Wrong when this one won't get out of my mind. So, I decided, since I can't concentrate on writing the other one, why not write this one? It's kinda inspired (but it will not be an exact copy or a verbatim account of Parent Trap)
Disclaimer: Any object, event, scene or person (including but not limited to PoT and Parent Trap) holding a resemblance to reality or is reality is not owned by me but their respective owners.
PROLOGUE
"Not good enough. Not yet!" Echizen Nanjiroh said happily, hitting the ball back to the receiving court. Now closer to the age of 55, he was even more passionate about the sport he loved.
He really had no regrets. It was right that he forfeited that match then, on what would've been the pinnacle of his career. This was better. He loved this feeling, and, he would always be content, not happy per se, as Rinko had left him in this world, but content, playing with his seishounen.
"Hurry up! JiJi! So slow." A young girl of about 12 faced him from the other end of the court, "Serve, already."
Even with her long black hair with greenish tints set into a lopsided ponytail atop her head and sweat dripping from her forehead, his granddaughter was beautiful. Echizen Seika was only 12, but she was his next greatest dream.
With his other seishounen already grown up and stronger than him, that dream was finished. But now, he had his cute little granddaughter to play with. And though it wasn't golden cat-like eyes staring at him from her face, he loved riling her up, which, oddly enough, was easy for him to do, considering Seika was generally a calm person.
"Ei. Brat, play seriously."
Something he doesn't like about his granddaughter, however, was that she didn't have the drive. He knew it. And he suspected she knew that he knew it. It was disappointing, really. All that talent and she just plays well enough to win.
Kind of like Ryoma, he mused, before going to Seigaku.
"Oyagi!"
Now, there was his Ryoma.
At 30, his daughter was now only playing tennis for fun. Sadly, she hadn't followed his dreams of pro-tennis for her after quick wins at US Open and Wimbledon, but, instead, she had retired and became a coach. Which, now that he thought about it, was a good match of a career for his pushy and assertive daughter.
"Stop playing with Seika, already. It's 10 pm and she still has school tomorrow."
"It's her last day." Nanjiroh grumbled, "Probably not even important."
Seika laughed, "Tough luck, jiji." She hugged her old man goodnight and followed her mother to the house.
"We'll play tomorrow, seishounen." He announced.
He was saddened as blue eyes flickered to the ground, "I have a photography exhibit tomorrow, grandpa. Maybe next time?"
Ryoma watched as her dad got suckered by her manipulative daughter's face. "She's a handful, isn't she?"
Now alone with his daughter, Nanjiroh slipped back to his native tongue, "She is. I wonder…"
"Dad, stop it." Ryoma warned.
Silence surrounded the backyard tennis court as both father and daughter searched for things to say.
Finally.
"Seika's bored again." Nanjiroh broached. "There's a training camp in Japa-"
"Oyagi, stop." Ryoma glared at him. Gold eyes flashing dangerously, "You don't get to force Seika into anything."
She entered the house, lingering in the kitchen to make tea.
"She's good. She could be better if—"
"Oyagi." Ryoma growled. "Don't force her."
Nanjiroh looked at the tiled kitchen floor, "Did I force you, seishounen?"
Ryoma looked at him blankly before shaking her head no.
"Let me ask her, then. Maybe she'd want to go."
Gold and gold clashed as Ryoma weighed her decisions.
"Fine, you can ask her."
Nanjiroh broached the subject at breakfast. Flipping through his copy of Maxim, he addressed his granddaughter in his sing-song Japanese. Like his daughter, Seika wasn't a morning person and he hoped that using her 2nd language would disarm her enough that she would say yes without thinking.
Hey. It could happen.
"There's a tennis training camp in Japan."
"No."
Seika slathered jam on her bread.
"There's a lot of strong opponents there. Even your mother-"
"Jiji. I don't want to play tennis after middle school."
"What?"
Nanjiroh's eyes widened comically. "Oi. You can't jut say something like that. Don't kid around."
"I'm not." Seika widened her blue eyes at her grandpa, "I want to concentrate on photography in High School."
"Yadda." The elder Echizen crossed his arms, "Waste of talent!"
Seika just looked down at the breakfast table.
"No. Won't fall for that. No." Nanjiroh stubbornly ignored his granddaughter before sighing. "Go to this and we'll see."
Blue eyes flashed. "I'll drop out after Middle School for sure."
Nanjiroh scratched his head, "High School. And 2 Grand Slam Tournaments as Wild Cards."
Seika immediately shook his hand, "Deal."
"Deal."
Seika stepped out of the yellow taxi, glancing at the scattered cabins and vast tennis courts. She was in Japan. And so close to—
She bumped into a girl her age.
"Watch where you're going!" She was told heatedly, never mind that it was the girl that bumped into her.
So, to rile her up, she just smiled at her, "We should both watch where we're going, ne?"
Surprisingly, the girl laughed and offered a hand, "You must be new here. Fuji Reiko. Yoroshiku."
A/n: So, what do you think?