a/n: well i felt like writing something mean and hopeless today
Dulce Decorum Est
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.
It is all very systematic and conventional; like she'd planned it neatly in a notebook for safe keeping and consulted books and asked her grandmother and asked her friends and took tedious notes. Like she thought it'd be perfect.
There is a note in his shoe locker.
Although it is not the first to be slipped in through the air holes, not the first to be written in loopy penmanship, not the first to have a lingering flowery smell on the paper—it is the first, last, and only letter ever addressed to Ryoma the Boy instead of Ryoma the Prince.
He knows who the author is.
"What's that?" asks Horio, peeking uninvitedly over his shoulder.
Horio, Katsuo, and Kachirou plan to drag Ryoma to karaoke because it is the last week of the last year of middle school, and not only has Ryoma been a stick in the mud for the three years they've known him, but it is also a holy time of firsts.
Ryoma replies, "A challenge letter."
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When he arrives at the tree behind the school, she is there. He doesn't know why she's chosen the one place in school Ryoma's ever felt comfort from besides the courts, but he does feel relaxed when he sees Sakuno pick out a leaf off her head and lets it fall slowly onto the ground with its dying brothers. She wears a bright smile when she spots him.
For a moment he thinks, Oh, she's going to confess to me, and then there's something inside him that blooms in excitement, in haughtiness, in happiness.
But gratitude radiates from her very being, and momentarily he is blinded.
"Ryoma-kun," Sakuno says. She goes on about pleasantries and can you believe school is almost over soon? and I'll miss this place a lot and it looks like we're both going to the same school next year! Finally, he gets a lock in-between one of her ramblings.
"What is it you want to tell me?"
Ryoma is polite, not just because his mother and her grandmother would whip him into shape otherwise, but because he has always wondered what it would feel like to be confessed to by someone he actually knew.
"I—" starts Sakuno. He thinks she's going to stutter some more, except she continues, "I want to thank you, Ryoma-kun. You've been an inspiration to me, and there's no way I can express how grateful I am to you."
The confusion is raw. "What?"
"The years you've led the team to victories," she said, eyes passionate, unblinking, "I've admired your ability and skill. It's like from the day I met you, when I saw you with that racket and that face. Oh, Ryoma-kun, there was so much blood, do you remember? But it was the first time I discovered a feeling so deep…Ryoma-kun, I want to thank you for allowing me to fall in love with tennis."
Third year Ryuzaki Sakuno is Vice Captain of the Seishun Academy Girl's Tennis Team. When she joined the regular set her second year and the team reached Nationals, the goal for this year was the same. They won. Captain Ryoma and his team weren't even there.
Ryoma doesn't know how to fake a smile. He hasn't needed to before.
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After the graduation ceremony, he (begrudgingly) and his Vice Captain (generously) take the team out to a celebratory, end-of-the-year, graduation dinner at the Kawamura's restaurant, as its affiliation with the Seigaku tennis teams was renowned.
"I can't believe the third years just graduated," comments one boy whose smashes helped in securing the Semi-Finals.
Horio says, "I know! I'll miss all my wonderful kouhai!"
"Whatever you say, Unibrow-sempai."
"So mean!"
Katsuo and Kachirou snicker at Horio floundering.
A second year Ryoma will kind of miss because of his quietude says, "It's cool how both our team and the girls' team went to Nationals this year, isn't it?"
"The girls' team is so talented…and cute! Did you see that Singles 2 girl with the braids?"
"Like she'd ever look at your ugly face," croons another boy. The table collapses with roars of laughter.
That's when Ryoma asks Mr. Kawamura where Taka is. He learns Taka has a dog now, and it's his responsibility to walk it every Friday afternoon. Ryoma thinks it'll be good for him.
Ryoma's Vice Captain—no longer Vice Captain and now fellow alumni—makes a speech after they're done eating, mostly since Ryoma is definitely not a speech person and, after all the sushi, everyone's a bit sentimental.
"I know all of you will do your absolute best after we're gone," he announces, and a few boys mutter about how the third years aren't dying, for goodness' sake, only they quiet down for his other words. "The rest of the third years and I have expectations for this team, and we have no reservations in our minds that you will reach it. We've had some tough times, but in the end we always made it—because we are Seigaku. Now as we start our own lives, you'll begin your own cycle again. It'll be up to you how you want to spend it, be it happy or angry or successful.
"Middle school only happens once. It might seem like something small now, but the life you live in is bigger than you think. A life this big is too important to be living with regrets. We'll be counting on you from now on, future regulars, and don't make it too hard for Ryuzaki-sensei, no matter how pushy she gets, okay? She just wants the best out of everyone."
Ryoma has to say something, because he was Captain and that kind of leadership doesn't fade away after the ring of a bell.
"Stop crying," he tells them. "You should only cry when you've lost something."
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"And, you know, Ryoma-kun," she adds rhythmically, "I loved you back then."
Her braids are as presentable as her uniform: crisp without creases. They used to be the same height first year, but he has grown and so has she. The tips of her hair blows slightly from the wind.
Ryoma is not a liar, but the silence he offers is the biggest lie he's ever told.