A/N: So, I've started this story. I don't expect this to last too long--mainly because I'm out of ideas, and because, well, I don't love Prince of Tennis as much as I used to. But I've heard that P.O.T. has ended, and I feel like I should contribute something. Just...something. (I actually haven't read the last chapter because I gave up P.O.T. (as one of my manga ) for Lent. T.T)
This fic was inspired by the AMV I was watching, when one random picture of Tezuka with wings was shown, and I realized I wanted to read Fantasy!P.O.T. fanfiction. Unfortunately, there's not much fantasy around. Here's my own contribution. .
DISCLAIMER: There are ideas stolen from various sources, such as...well...the most obvious one being CLAMP. (What, did you think I was going to say 'Prince of Tennis?') There is most likely nothing original here and it all goes to CLAMP. CLAMP IS NEXT TO GODLINESS. WORSHIP THEM WITH ME.
(Of course, there's also stuff stolen from D N Angel, another good manga. But still...NOT AS GODLY AS CLAMP.)
...Also, I do not own Prince of Tennis. If I did, then instead of implied gayness, there'd be explicit gayness. In between the tennis, of course.
My disclaimer nicely brings me to WARNING: IF YOU DON'T LIKE THE THRILL PAIR, DON'T READ. And if you know what the term 'Thrill Pair' means, don't bother to read either. If I do ever get a flame, please make it grammatically correct. If you don't, it will have FAILED as a flame. And I will be very sad for you.
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Prologue
The day that Ryoma had learned he was to be the world's fifth-hundred-and-forty-sixth savior, he had walked straight into the jaws of the Echizen family dumpster.
It hadn't been pleasant in there, with all the flies and ants and half-rotten banana peels. Also inside the dumpster, were decaying dinners and lunches, and sticky half-consumed drinks. And…porn magazines.
Of course, Nanjiro, who had been the one to deliver the shocking news to Ryoma, had simply stood off to one side, roaring with laughter as Ryoma scrambled away from the magazines, banged his head against the lid of the dumpster, and finally clambered out to sulk, a banana peel forlornly hanging onto his head.
Ryoma had proceeded to inform Nanjiro that he hadn't any interest at all in saving the world, and then stomped off to take a nice long bath.
He should have known that problems wouldn't be so easy to take care of.
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"Look, brat, I know that you just want to play tennis all day," said Nanjiro.
Ryoma glared at Nanjiro and said nothing. His good mood from taking the bath had been destroyed as soon as Nanjiro had cornered him before he could enter his room. Ryoma's room was his only sanctuary.
"But let's face it, you'll never be as good as I am." Nanjiro grinned.
Ryoma's eyebrow twitched, but he still didn't respond, which he knew would irk Nanjiro.
"Right now, there's something more important than tennis."
Ryoma's eyes widened in horror and his head snapped up to stare at Nanjiro. He even forgot to look sulky and indifferent.
"You probably won't believe me when I say this, but I'm the reincarnation of the last savior of the world." Nanjiro puffed out his chest, putting his hands on his hips in a show of manliness.
Ryoma snorted and ruined the manly moment.
Nanjiro looked momentarily upset, but moved on. "You're going to be the next savior, kid. It's your fate." He paused, and then said, "Look, you even have the sword."
"The sword?" asked Ryoma, again jolted out of his sulking. Since when does oyaji keep weapons in the house?
"Yeah," Nanjiro grinned. "You got a sword. One that you gotta use against…these…shadow-like things which come in the night."
That is so cliché, thought Ryoma.
"They prey on people," said Nanjiro, his grin fading. "And they…well, they do nasty things."
"They must do some pretty horrible stuff if even a pervert like you uses the words 'nasty things' to describe their activities," said Ryoma, deadpan.
"Yeah, they—what did you say, brat?"
Nanjiro lunged at Ryoma, but Ryoma had been planning for this moment—he twisted away from Nanjiro's outstretched arms and dove for his door. He managed to get the door open as Nanjiro crashed into the wall behind him.
Quickly, Ryoma slid into his room, closing the door even as Nanjiro reached down to twist the doorknob.
Snick. Ryoma grinned as the door was securely locked.
Nanjiro began pounding on the door. "You stupid brat! Open up! Give your old man some respect once and a while!"
"Yeah, right."
Ryoma ignored Nanjiro, who had begun hissing at him from outside the door, and took out his math homework.
It doesn't make sense, anyways, thought Ryoma as he calmly began calculating the foci and vertices of ellipses.
If I was savior of the world, why didn't I find out 'til now? And why would oyaji look so carefree when he was telling me all this stuff?
Ryoma shrugged to himself, and then put the issue of his savior-of-the-world-status out of his mind.
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Nanjiro didn't give up. Ryoma had thought he would give up…except he hadn't. Nanjiro now had Ryoma tied to—this is child abuse, isn't it?—a chair in the kitchen, and was holding a wriggling Karupin.
Ryoma glared at Nanjiro balefully, as did Karupin.
Animal abuse! Animal abuse! said Karupin's glare.
"I know this isn't easy to accept," Nanjiro was saying, "But you know, you can't just go off dumping your responsibility on someone else. I mean, someone's gotta be savior of the world. Might as well be you." He leered. "You're just unlucky."
Karupin chose that moment to swipe at Nanjiro with very, very sharp claws.
Oh, how Ryoma loved Karupin.
"Ow!" howled Nanjiro, but he still didn't let go of Karupin.
"I have to get to tennis practice," said Ryoma over Nanjiro's loud yells and curses. "Could you hurry up?"
"I don't know why you have to be so difficult about this," Nanjiro panted.
"You're just explaining it incorrectly, Nanjiro-san," said Nanako as she entered the kitchen. "Ohayou, Ryoma-kun."
"Ohayou," replied Ryoma, momentarily uncertain. Nanako-san isn't one to play jokes…if oyaji isn't just joking about saving the world—
"I got you, Karupin," grunted Nanjiro. "You aren't escaping. Now—change!"
He dropped Karupin onto the floor triumphantly, and Ryoma leaned in closer, expecting—
Nothing happened.
There was a brief, intensely awkward silence.
It was just a joke after all, thought Ryoma, annoyed at both his father and the relief sweeping through his body.
"You didn't ask Karupin nicely," chided Nanako.
Nanjiro spluttered indignantly. "Ask a cat—nicely?"
"Karupin," said Nanako sweetly, leaning over Karupin. "Would you please change?"
There was a brief pause—and then Karupin's form wavered, a blinding flash of light exploding throughout the kitchen
"Karupin!" shouted Ryoma in alarm, unable to stand up due to the ropes tying him to the kitchen chair.
He blinked away spots from his vision, frantically searching for Karupin. He saw nothing, except for a pair of Karupin-fur-colored wings lying on the floor. There were long and sweeping, with delicate feathers.
"Has Karupin turned into a bird?" croaked Ryoma, horror nearly drowning his voice.
"No, no, Ryoma-kun, everything's alright," said Nanako soothingly. "Karupin is your wings."
"My-my wings?"
"I'm not sure how much Nanjiro has explained to you," said Nanako, moving over to sit across from Ryoma. Ryoma's gaze kept darting from her, to his father, and to what Karupin had become.
Nanako sighed, and called, "Change back, Karupin!"
Ryoma prepared himself for another blinding flash of light, and when he cautiously opened his eyes again, Karupin was back to being a cat. A very offended cat. Karupin glared at Nanjiro, and quickly scrambled away from the kitchen.
"Ryoma, it must be hard for you to accept this, but you are going to save this world."
"From what?" asked Ryoma, still too relieved about Karupin's transformation back to a cat to question the source of his cousin's knowledge, or why he had to have a role in saving the world at all.
"There are shadow demons in this world." Nanako's face was grave as she continued, "These demons are born from people's hearts. And these demons take people's hearts—they—they—"
"Eat the hearts," said Nanjiro. He looked unexpectedly grim and serious, and the idea that this was all just a joke was rapidly slipping away from Ryoma.
"Wait, and what am I supposed to do about this?"
"You have a sword, well, you should have a sword," said Nanako. "And, um, you defeat these demons."
"That's it?" Ryoma frowned. "Why can't anyone else do this?"
"It's a special sword," said Nanjiro quickly.
"And by special, you mean—"
"Look kid, you know what you gotta do now. You got a sword, and you got some demons. You gotta kill the demons with the sword, before the demons overrun the world. Simple enough, yeah?"
"But—"
"Ryoma-kun, you'll be late for tennis practice!"
Ryoma blinked as Nanako fled from the kitchen, and Nanjiro leaned over to untie him from the chair.
"What about breakfast?"
"Heh, you have time to eat breakfast when you still can't beat me?" Nanjiro leered at Ryoma disturbingly.
Ryoma glared and would have snapped something snarky back, except Nanako chose that moment to shove his backpack into his arms and hustle him out of the house.
"Itekimasu," said Ryoma half-heartedly.
"Iterashai!" called out Nanako, and then slammed the door shut as if she was relieved he was gone.
Ryoma paused for a moment, frowning. There was something distinctly disturbing about his cousin and his father's behavior about the subject—but then Ryoma forgot it all when he saw Momoshiro on his bike, waving at Ryoma frantically.
つづく...