Title: Vow

Summary: Ryoma is very sick of his father and decides to go rebellious on him.

Notes: If Nanjiro was my father I would've gone and moved in with my godparents (that doesn't happen in the story, btw).

Rating: T… mostly for topics covered and usual Nanjiro fodder.

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Ryoma walked in the door to his house. He removed his jacket and put it in the closet. He removed his shoes and put them below the step.

Then came Nanjiro:

'Boy! Want to hit a few balls around? Not that you have any!' He laughed at his own, stupid joke that has been made on The Nanny like 5 thousand million times.

Ryoma placed his racquet case near the door but kept his hat resolutely on. 'No, not right now, I've exams coming up.'

'What? Don't be stupid! You can ace those with your eyes shut. Having a bad hair day?' Nanjiro indicated the cap. 'Zoink!' He pulled it off to reveal Ryoma had a minor bleach job and—the gasp—one little gold hoop in his right ear!

Nanjiro choked lightly and pointed to his now mildly fashionable son. 'What is that?'

'What is what?'

'That-that THING in your ear!'

'Whatever,' Ryoma headed towards the baths. 'I don't have time for this.'

The ex-pro tennis guy ran in front of him and blocked his way. 'Don't take one step or I'll rip that queer piece of gold right out of your ear!'

'What?'

'You heard me! It's queer! And so is your ugly Ska bleach-job!'

'Dad, that is so 90s,' gestured with a flick of his wrist that his dad was being such an arse and waste of his time. 'Everyone has earrings now!'

'Liar!'

Ryoma rolled his eyes: 'Whatever, dad.' And continued in his pursuit of cleanliness.

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While his newly "fruity" son bathed Nanjiro pondered this sudden change of taste. Before Ryoma was nothing but masculine—wearing peg-leg jeans, watching chicks, and not talking—definitely a son to be (not very) proud of.

This "Ryoma 2.0" was not very cool, in fact, "Ryoma 2.0" was annoying and Nanjiro couldn't stand being annoyed. He decided to take a quick look in his progeny's room, you know, to see what made him change suddenly.

The first thing he noticed was a big cardboard box with a note attached to it:

Echizen-kun –

Here is some stuff. I hate you. I am now bald. I hate you. You're an effing midget with body odour.

Signed,

Atobe Keigo

P.S.: Die.

'Hmm,' thought Nanjiro. 'Could be a bomb.' He opened the package and out fell some of the most obnoxious pieces of clothing he'd ever seen.

'No this can't be—' thought he, looking through the shiny garments.

Armani? Sure, Armani he would have been able to accept. The simplicity of lines was strong and masculine in its way-

However, no, this was not Armani—this wasn't even Kenzo—this was—

Dolce & Gabbana

Nanjiro gasped again—this was too much! First his son was sporting a gold earring and bleached hair, and now he was receiving tacky gifts from his queer, bald friends!

There was only one thing to do. Nanjiro pulled out one of his magazines and kissed it tenderly. He would miss it—yes—but something had to be done! He ripped out one of the pages and placed it in—

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Ryoma entered his bedroom, wrapped in towel, and quickly shut the door. He checked-out his cool new look in the mirror. His lightly frosted hair looked very hip and his earring made his jaw look less seventh-grade.

Sitting on the floor was a box with a note on it. Ryoma threw away the note and opened it.

'Oh my God! D&G! Bitchin',' he said, quietly, and removed on of the tight tops from the parcel. It was just his size and he hastily put it on.

The material was a bit sweaty but the fit—I mean, he may as well have been running around naked! It was just like an extension of his natural self.

He turned and opened his underwear drawer. 'I've got to find the right pair! They can't show through!' He pulled on a pair of Tighty-whiteys but stopped as something fell out of his drawer. It was a cumpled up piece of paper. He bent, picked it up, and opened it.

It was a photograph—

Of a woman—

Naked—

Ryoma dropped the picture—his face bright red—and pulled his underwear on the rest of the way. He got down on his knees and picked up the picture again and examined it more closely; what exactly had made him feel so… strange.

He'd seen naked women before, duh. I mean, who hasn't? But this lady was different, her figure was nothing like those of classical paintings, her breasts were huge and round, her waist was as narrow as Sakuno's, and she was sitting in pose that he'd never seen a woman sit before revealing something they never show in paintings…

He put the picture down—he was starting to feel nauseous—and went to the bathroom. His face was bright red and his head felt a bit light. He took a quick pee and returned to his room. The picture was still there. He took it, crumpled it up, and placed it in the rubbish bin. 'There,' thought he. 'End of that.'

He returned to the box and put on a pair of very tight black trousers and looked in the mirror. 'Yes, I look cool.'

He sat down on the bed. That picture was so nasty, it was everything his mum had told him not to think about girls. She'd told him it's fine to think they're gorgeous and all—they think the same of you—but never think of them as animals. They're people, just like you, with feelings, thoughts and cares.

He thought of the women of Picasso, Velasquez, and Da Vinci—those women had thoughts, feelings, and cares. The woman in the photograph—though hot—was practically bovine in comparison.

He shook his head quickly, trying to rid himself of the image, and descended the stairs.

Nanjiro was sitting there tapping his foot and "reading" the midday paper. He looked up when Ryoma entered the room: 'What'd you think of the picture, boy?'

'I hated it,' he felt quite a good deal of rage build up inside him. 'Don't put dirty pictures in my room.'

'You thought that was dirty?' Nanjiro laughed and Ryoma's stomach turned. 'What's with the queer clothes?'

'I like these clothes,' said Ryoma. He headed towards the phone. Maybe he could call Momo-sempai and all this could be forgot.

'You're going to turn into a queer!' called Nanjiro from the other room. 'A fairy.'

That was it—Ryoma couldn't take anymore—he spun round and stomped over to his father. 'Okay,' he took a deep breath. 'I don't care if I'm a fruit, a fairy, a queer or whatever you want to call me. I like girls, okay? Not sluts and I'm not going to sleep around if that's what you want either!'

'Fruit,' Nanjiro scoffed.

'Okay, you know what?'

'What?' He tilted his head and rolled his eyes in a very annoying way.

'I'm going to make a vow!'

'Of…?'

'Chastity! I shan't have sex until I'm completely sure I'm in love! Or married, whichever.'

Nanjiro gasped (for the third(?) time in this) and dropped his paper.

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Yeh, if you want me to do a follow up chapter/story I can. I just felt like writing this.

Thought process:

OFSI (me writing partner): What would really irk Nanjiro?

OFNFR (me): If Ryoma made a vow of chastity.

So yes… all I really want to do is annoy Nanjiro Echizen.

Please review.

Cheers,

Old Fiat Northern France