Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is Konomi Takeshi's. I'm not Konomi Takeshi. That tell you anything about my claim on Prince of Tennis?
A/N 1: The second in the series. This one is meant to be read after Indefinable, so if you haven't read that yet, I'd suggest you do. This can be read on its own, though it's much better if you read Indefinable first. And review, of course. ^_^
A/N 2: TezuRyo!!!
A/N 3: Not quite as long as I would have liked to be, but long enough for my purposes. A much more informal style than the first one, I should think. Last piece in the series coming right up! It's written on paper, I just need to type it up. ^_^
Summary: So it's your first date. Except it's not a date… it's just an outing. Right?
Wonder
"Anywhere you want to go, Echizen-kun?"
Golden eyes looked up in amusement. "You're the one who asked me out, buchou," the young boy said in a mildly reproving tone. "You ought to have thought of where to go on our date."
The other boy, considerably taller, looked vaguely panicked for just a second. "This isn't a date…" he countered. "It's an… outing."
Ryoma raised an eyebrow, but let it drop. "The amusement park," he suggested. "I haven't been in a while."
Brown hair swayed gently as Tezuka nodded slightly, relieved to have gotten out of dangerous territory.
The amusement park was easily the most fun either of them had had in a long time. Neither screamed as they descended the roller coaster at dizzying speeds. Both managed to strike the bell in a game to test one's strength. Both won at the rifle-shot game. By the time they had reached the next stall, their little 'outing' had turned into an impromptu contest, each trying to outdo the other.
Ryoma bounced the ball in his hand tentatively, wishing he had his racket with him.
"It's simple," the stall owner assured him. "Just get the ball through the hole. Get one through and you'll win a prize." Ryoma nodded, aimed carefully, and let fly.
The ball sailed through the air and bounced off the board.
Undaunted, Ryoma picked up his second ball and threw it again. This one came closer, bouncing off the edge of the hole. The stall owner wore a confident, smug look on his face.
Ryoma hefted his third and last ball absently, mentally measuring the distance with his eyes. Tezuka bumped his elbow encouragingly, leaning against the counter. A smirk curving his lips, Ryoma flung the ball quickly, suddenly, not apparently aiming. The ball flew straight towards the board –
– and got stuck in the hole.
Ryoma gawped at it for a moment, the green ball neatly plugging up the hole. Tezuka arched an eyebrow as the stall owner lost his self-assured look and began to stammer excuses. Reaching over the counter, Tezuka set down a hundred yen and picked up an orange ball – leaning back, he snapped his arm forward viciously.
Orange smashed into green, wood creaked dangerously, a loud crack sounded, and both balls popped through the hole. The stall owner's mouth dropped open mid-word. Smirking contentedly, if such a thing were possible, Ryoma hopped down off his stool, reached over the counter and selected two prizes.
"Two balls, two prizes," he stated gleefully. He never had taken well to cheaters. Wrapping a hand around the other boy's wrist, he pulled him away. "Come on, buchou!"
They walked some distance and were safely away from the stall before Ryoma showed him his prize. "Here," the golden-eyed boy said, giving him a little plushie. Tezuka studied it carefully.
"It looks like you," he said finally.
Ryoma choked on the Ponta he had just brought to his lips. "Exactly how does that thing look like me?" he asked indignantly.
The 'thing' in question was a little blue duck, its body made of feathery, fluffy cotton. Two large buttons were sewn on for eyes, and it had a grin on its pale orange beak - or at least, they assumed it was meant to be a grin. The whole thing had the air of a hand-made toy about it, and the grin had somehow deformed to become a scowl. This, along with the overly large eyes, was what Tezuka pointed out.
Ryoma huffed. "My eyes are not that big."
"They are," Tezuka felt compelled to point out. Upon seeing the mutinous look on Ryoma's face, he hastily added, "But they suit you. I like them." As soon as the last three words had left his lips, he wished he could take them back, but Ryoma looked pleased. Tezuka gave him a small smile, and then wondered why Ryoma's eyes had widened; why he had suddenly frozen.
"Echizen-kun?" he asked. Ryoma started, and then grinned at him.
"Come on, buchou. Anything else you want to do here? Because if not, I'll be just as happy to leave now."
Tezuka felt a pang of disappointment that their da… outing was over. He shrugged, inexplicably warmed when Ryoma slipped his hand back into his.
"Ne, buchou. Let's go to the park," Ryoma suggested. "I don't want to go home yet."
Tezuka nodded absently. His piercing grey eyes were fixed firmly on a girl not far from them, who was obviously checking out Ryoma. Suppressing a growl of annoyance and possessive streak he hadn't known he had, Tezuka took his hand away from Ryoma and wrapped his arm firmly around the younger boy's waist, pulling him closer.
Tezuka didn't let go of Ryoma until they'd arrived at the park. Ryoma wasn't complaining, unless snuggling up against his side was considered a complaint. As Tezuka moved his arm away, Ryoma let out a mewl of protest and latched on to it.
Needless to say, Tezuka's arm remained wrapped around Ryoma a while longer.
They didn't speak overly much, but then that was only characteristic of both of them. They strolled for a while, Ryoma leaning against Tezuka's side; the older boy soaked up his warmth and simply just luxuriated in his presence. There weren't many people around whom he could be himself – he always has to put on a mask for the team, his classmates, his teachers. He always had to be the silent, responsible one. Not that he wasn't by nature, but he didn't feel the same pressure to keep up that image when he was with Ryoma, as compared to when he was with anyone else.
Evening came soon – too soon for either of them. With the junk food they had eaten at the amusement park, neither had much of an appetite. A pity, really, Tezuka reflected, or he could have taken Ryoma out for dinner. His grandparents were generous with his allowance; he could have brought him to a restaurant. Or a sushi bar. Or even that American fast-food place that he personally couldn't stand, but Ryoma was exceedingly fond of. As it was, though, all he could offer to do was walk Ryoma home; an offer Ryoma readily accepted, partly because of the late hour, but mostly because he didn't feel like leaving Tezuka yet.
At his gate, Ryoma paused, wondering if Tezuka would – he noticed a shadow lurking behind the door and sighed in exasperation.
"Idiot father's behind the door," he muttered. He squeezed Tezuka's hand, gave him a quick smile that nearly stopped Tezuka's heart, and then stepped away. "Mind you take me out on another date soon, buchou. See you at practise tomorrow."
Tezuka stood there, stunned, as Ryoma entered his house, purposely kicking the man who had been crouched behind it. A pained yelp, quickly followed by loud demands for all the "sordid details" made their way through the open door, before said door was shut. Tezuka mused that the kick, placed strategically right in the elder Echizen's stomach, hadn't seemed to faze him at all. He certainly still had his breath.
Tezuka smiled to himself as he strolled down the street, heading back to his house quickly. He didn't want his grandparents to worry, after all. He patted the thing on his shoulder, glancing at it out of the corner of his eye. A flash of blue and large, unblinking button-eyes greeted him.
Tezuka smiled. Again. It had to be some kind of record.
Unaware of the records he had just made Tezuka smash, the young tennis prodigy was currently flopped ungracefully on his bed. His father was still sitting outside his door whining for details about his date – he didn't seem to care overly much that his only son had gone out with another boy (as long as he was getting some action, who cared?) and Ryoma could only hope Tezuka's grandparents would be as understanding.
He scoffed at himself suddenly. Look at you, he thought, momentarily disgusted. Thinking this is some kind of permanent thing?
A smirk curved his lips the next instant, though. He didn't seem to mind, did he?
Rolling over, Ryoma came face to face with a furry face. At his feet, Karupin mewed loudly, trying to get his attention. Ryoma ignored Karupin for the first time in his short life, picking up his plushie and lifting it up above his head. Lying on his back, he held it up, the plushie blocking the light from his overhead lamp. A halo of light formed around the plushie, making it seem as if it were glowing. Little button-eyes looked out of a golden-brown face. Ryoma ran his fingers through the tufts of brown hair, looking at it intently. Karupin gave up on him and curled up to sleep.
The stuffed bear was a colour very similar to Tezuka's, he noted. And it had a blank sort of look on its face; except that its eyes were lopsided, so it looked like it was quirking a non-existent eyebrow at you. Just like Tezuka, Ryoma thought. Seemingly blank, cold and unfeeling, but with a passionate soul underneath. A soul that peeped through every so often and left everyone in a state of shock. Was it really that odd for Tezuka to smile?
Ryoma suddenly hugged the bear to himself, feeling the fur tickle his face. Eyes closed, he breathed in the musky smell of the bear, mentally comparing it to that heady scent Tezuka possessed. It came nowhere near. He determined to borrow some of Tezuka's cologne – or whatever it was that made him smell so absolutely divine and apply it to the bear. He turned again, on his side this time, and curled up into a little ball, cuddling the bear.
He fell asleep with a smile on his face.
~fin