Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis characters belong to Takeshi Konomi (durr)
Warning: My spelling/grammar isn't the greatest (even if English is my first language, haha)

Summary: "Things to be achieve in life." How dare that dirty bastard of a father challenge him? Before even opening the letter to read the contents, he had already accepted the challenge. Unexpectedly, Ryoma wasn't too sure if he could fill the empty checkbox…

Chapter 1: The Empty Checkbox

Fan, fan, junk, fan, fan, fan, junk, fan junk, fan, fan, junk…

After returning from the U.S. Open as the reigning champ, he stood before a refined glass table, frowning irately.

Papers crinkled under his firm grasp, shifting and shuffling under callused hands. His brow wrinkled in frustration. His brain pulsed in annoyance; he was really succumbing under the utter dullness.

It was so simple and yet so excruciating. Easy and yet unbearable.

Echizen Ryoma was sorting out his mail.

Why was he doing this again?

Oh right. Ryoma could not trust any one else to this task. You'd think it would be simple to distinguish junk from junk, but the useless assistants his manager had hired in the past could not figure out what was junk and what was not. They sometimes decided that stupid endorsement jobs such as underwear modeling had some priority in his life.

Seriously, underwear modeling? Couldn't they find something decent to endorse nowadays? Like, hmm…a certain hat-brand or maybe a certain fruit soda company.

It really wasn't that hard to figure him out. He was a simple guy with (somewhat) simple needs.

But no, they liked to make his life a little more difficult. A little more agonizing.

So he left this tedious and menial task for himself. If you want something done right, you need to take matters into your hands. So that's how he was stuck here, shuffling through mounds of paper rather than swinging a racket.

Why did people even use this method as means of communication at all, any how? It was the 21st century. You would think man kind would be past the barbaric paper-wasting service that has been dubbed "snail mail." It was understandable that it was essential for packages and such, but if it was something redundant and dumpy, it could easily be sent via e-mailing.

E-mailing. Another source of headaches.

With a sigh, he raked his tired hand through dark green, feathery locks. He emitted a low, deep grumble, sighed melodramatically, and then resumed sorting.

Fan, junk, fan, fan, fan, fa—wait, what's this? Fa…mily?

Ryoma stared at the envelope incredulously. He had received so little communication from this address he was so familiar with. What ever could be the business to be discussed? It was so…out of the ordinary. He thought he had made his intent very clear when he left. He thought he had finally been able to cut his ties. He thought he had finally been able to become independent. He thought he could live his own life in solitude (or as much solitude as you get when you're a tennis professional).

He thought he had been able to become his own man.

Guess not.

He peered closer at the scribble written on the backside in ball point pen: Seshounen.

You've gotta be kidding me.

Heaving another heavy sigh, Ryoma tore the envelope open across the top. Hesitantly, he reached inside with lengthy fingers and pulled out its contents, revealing a thin sheet of plain white paper, crisply folded in half. Words were scrawled on the back in messy letters:

Things to be achieved in life.

Amber eyes continued to scan the paper.

I achieved everything on this list by the time I was 22. Don't let your old man beat you out.

Those last lines lead him to humph in amusement and disgust. Yeah right, what a bastard of a father. He could and would beat him out in anything, any time.

Before even opening the paper to read the contents, he already accepted the challenge.

You'd think it'd be impossible to get even cockier than he was at the age of 12, right? Well, that assumption was incorrect. His head was inflated from winning four junior titles. Winning Nationals for Seigaku and his head got a bit bigger.

He went pro at 14 years old. That did contribute to his self-esteem a bit more.

Then factor in that he won every tournament he participated since then.

Then add that he consecutively won the U.S. Open for the last 5 years.

Multiply it by the fact that he won the last Wimbledon games.

So you could imagine that Ryoma's self was pretty well intact. Actually, his ego inflated so much to the extent that it put Atobe Keigo's level of self-importance to shame (well, at least when he was in middle school. His ego, as well, enlarged when he was introduced into the underwear modeling industry that Ryoma despised so much. But that's another story).

Now, it was easy to understand why Ryoma confidently accepted a challenge he didn't even know the details of with haste. He would soon regret it…

He slowly unfolded the paper and everything began to reveal itself.

Attached to the interior of the paper, with a sliver of transparent tape, was a single photograph, grayed and worn with age. Photographed were a man and a woman, standing side by side under an arbor of flowers. The scruffy man was smirking in a black suit while the charming woman's smile radiated; she was simply glowing in a white gown with a veil upon her head…

…Wait, it couldn't be.

Under it read, Echizen Nanjirou and Takeuchi Rinko's wedding, 19XX

No way… his bastard of a father was not implying…was he?

Oh god, he was.

Under the photo, there was only one task written with a single blank box beside it, awaiting a check mark to fill it. Right then and there, Ryoma wasn't too sure if he could fill it…

"Find the woman to spend your life with."

Echizen Ryoma, age 21, was screwed the moment he opened the envelope.

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To be continued.

A/N:My version of a "betting" fanfic. This is a commonly-used concept/theme to motivate our stingy Japanese American tennis star into finding love.

I had totally forgot to upload this. It's been rotting in my little "TeniPuri Fanfiction" folder. Was intended to be a one-shot, but since I made a cliffhanger, I thought "Hey, why not make it a bit longer?"

Reviews are always appreciated! They make me happy ('cuz you care so much about my happiness xD). Oh, and they tell me "People want to see more" and get me motivated. :3

Oh and if you see mistakes or get confused, please tell me!

EDIT: Ahh, I just touched up on it just barely for mistakes and just a little more fluidity. Also… UGH, I'm so OCD about how to format these fanfics! I keep changing my style, but nothing seems to really stick…

Started 05-01-2009. Finished and Uploaded 06-06-2009. Edited 06-24-2009.