Disclaimer: I do not own the Prince of Tennis.
Ryoma's chapped lips parted in a soft groan the moment he woke from his five-day long coma. And in the days that followed, it gradually dawned to him that he had lost the one thing he treasured the most.
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Everyone's Alright
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Plainly looking at Ryoma showed nothing amiss. It was as if he was the typical haughty tennis prince. Seeing him this way, as if nothing horrendous had happened, was breaking Sakuno's heart. In contrast to Ryoma, she couldn't keep up with her grief over his loss. After the accident, she'd suddenly find herself tearing up before balling into a fit of hot tears. She had always idolized Ryoma. And seeing him this way, bereft of living out his dream, made her swell up like never before.
It was during their lunch break when Sakuno, eyes swollen from nights spent crying and blankly staring into space, that Ryoma casually approached her.
"Ryuzaki." The young boy called out in front of her. "I haven't seen your Japanese history notes yet."
Listless, Sakuno looked up in surprise before shaking her head and diving into her book bag in a frantic search of her notes.
"Sorry." She apologized. "I might've missed it." She said, finally handing the notebook to Ryoma. "Neh," She suddenly said, looking straight into his anticipating eyes. "How are you feeling?"
Ryoma's brows raised in the slightest before taking the notebook from her grasp.
"Normal." He simply muttered before nodding in thanks and turning away.
Trembling auburn eyes followed his back as he returned to his desk. And Sakuno couldn't help but simply turn away and break down for the nth time that day.
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They were eating fish for dinner when Sumire slammed her chopsticks back down in frustration, making Sakuno jump in surprise.
"Can you stop crying, Sakuno!" The old woman yelled at her granddaughter who then froze in shock. The bags on her eyes were ever present. "Instead of helping Ryoma move on, you're reminding him of his loss every time he sees you." She tiredly said in a choke. "So please," she said more calmly now, her wrinkly features creasing in understanding. "Please help Ryoma by being strong for him, Sakuno. He needs your strength now more than anything."
With quivering lips, Sakuno nodded, fully and truly understanding.
Still, for the longest time, she couldn't taste her food.
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"I'm sorry." Ryoma suddenly told her as she was slipping on her rubber shoes for PE. Both donned their school's required athletics uniform. Sakuno looked up to him in surprise. She was already used to the growing ache in her chest whenever Ryoma was near. The boy looked away, his cheeks lightly tinting in embarrassment. "For all the pain my accident has caused you." He looked back at her. "Sorry."
To which Sakuno's lips quivered again. And, before Ryoma could utter anymore, move or speak, Sakuno leapt from where she sat and wrapped her arms over his neck in a tight and desperate embrace.
"Idiot." She whispered into his ear. "You're an idiot, Ryoma-kun." Her voice was choking as her hold on him tightened. "An idiot."
In that time, Ryoma could only get himself to rest his weary head on the crook of her neck, gradually letting go of his stolid mask.
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Sakuno swung her feet, bored, as she waited by the fountain. He was ten minutes late and in counting.
Thirty minutes into her wait, she received a message from Ryoma which made her suddenly leap to her feet in a cry of utter joy.
I made it to the finals.
That day, as she walked around Shibuya with her date, all she could talk about was how her good friend made it to the French Open finals with a prosthetic leg.
END.
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Don't forget to keep tabs on the sequel if you're interested. It'll be RyoSaku, Romance/Friendship, at an older, more substantial age. Don't forget to tell me what you think!