Prologue: Tennis

Far off on the horizon Makoto could see the pallet of oranges and royal purples overtaking the calm blues; it was sunset and no one had arrived. Still, the boy was told that he would be meeting a new doubles partner on this court, so on this court his was determined to stay. He looked back to the court, and pushed a few shimmering caramel-colored hairs from his face. A little speck of white dropped over the court. Makoto assumed it was dandruff, dust, something obstructing his view, but it seemed to grow exponentially. White light began to sear Makoto's eyes, but he did not wince; he stared for a full second before closing his eyes.

It was also a second before his eyes flashed open. Everything was the same, excepting that a turtle lay squirming on its shell in the back of the court. Makoto stood up and paced slowly over to the creature. "Oh, hurry, you incompetent Thwomp!" a scraping, high, and effeminate voice called out. Makoto's thin frame wavered left, then right, and his enormous Royal Tennis Academy hoodie flopped about him, but he could not make out the source of the voice. He inched closer to the turtle and looked down, but it was not quite a turtle. Makoto didn't even know how he could see a shell; a sparkling red dress covered the turtle's back. It had matching, stumpy high-heeled shoes obnoxiously yellow skin, and long, blond hair to boot. "What are you waiting for?" the turtle-thing screeched. "Help me up!"
Makoto automatically offered his hand to the creature. When she pulled herself up, she was only about three feet tall. "Where the hell am I?" the wee thing whispered out into the twilight.

"The Royal Tennis Academy," came another automatic response from Makoto. His voice seemed to disappear as quickly as it came, and without noticeable inflection.
"Oh, another one of Mario's mindless drones no doubt!" the other thing hissed.

"Mario?" Makoto coolly questioned the wind.

"Well, you certainly can't be someone's minion if you don't even know him," the turtle-girl speculated. After a few moments Makoto began to walk away, and she followed along. "You look young enough to be in school. Are you a student of this... 'academy' then?"

"Yes."

"Only what's necessary... Are you sure you're not in association with Mario?"

"Yes."

"I suppose a quick, forthcoming response isn't all that bad... Where are we headed?"

"The headmaster's office," and as soon as the flat voice disappeared, the pair was standing in front of an elegant, aged brick building. "This is the administration office," Makoto offered, anticipating the question.

***

Within five minutes, both human and turtle were sitting in front of a clean mahogany desk, staring at a jolly, balding man with a thick, spiraling mustache and a dull, over-washed brown suit. The receptionist hadn't taken so keenly to the duo. Actually, the only reason they were in to see the headmaster so quickly was that the receptionist had run squealing after catching a glimpse of the visitor.

"Ah, so I see we have a Magikoopa in our presence!" the headmaster offered with a delighted clap.
"She is my doubles partner?" Makoto flat-lined his superior's enthusiasm.

"Er, no, Kathy was paired with you, but she decided to focus on her singles game this year. She was supposed to come by the court to tell you!" The headmaster poked his finger up in the air.
"Oh."
"Well, I suppose disciplinary actions will follow with her, but I can't force her to play with you, Makoto. I suggest that you do your best to reach the Island Open in singles this year."

"I do not play alone."

"Makoto, there's not-" the headmaster began with a pleading, soft smile.
"Forget about tennis!" the Magikoopa raged as she sprang up in her seat. She began to swing about a silver rod with a dull yellow crescent moon at the end. "Tell me how I can get home!"

"Er, yes, about that..." the headmaster made eye contact with the Magikoopa for a few moments, but she seemed not to understand. "Your name?"
"Katrina," Katrina spat.

"Yes, Katrina," he smiled oddly at her. "I don't quite know how you've come to this world, but there's only one way back that I know of."

"And that would be?" Katrina strained, as if there were twenty 'e's in 'be'.

"The three winners if the Island Open-"
"I will be winning this year," Makoto noted while staring out at the stars through the headmaster's window.

"Er, yes, you came very close last year, didn't you, son?"
"Get back to my ride home!"

"Ahem!" The headmaster adjusted his tie. "Well, there could be only two people going if someone in the doubles pair also wins the singles side..." Katrina's right eye began to twitch. The headmaster hurried, "But, anyway, those winners ride a plane to participate in a competition in the Mushroom Kingdom, though most people believe it's an international tournament in a foreign country."
"When is the tournament?"

"Summer," Makoto slipped in. "But it is Fall now."

"As if I couldn't tell by the trees! This is the granddaughter of Kammy Koopa you're speaking to here!" Katrina grumbled. "So I can just catch a ride on that plane?"

"Unfortunately, no. Believe me, dear, we've tried to get more people there to root for our champions, but the Mushroom Airline Company says that it already takes an excruciating amount of energy to transport the plane, the crew, and three people back and forth. They won't be prepared to take an extra."
"But!" Katrina stared wide-eyed at the headmaster. "What if that thing happens where the person wins twice!"

"I could try to make arrangements then, but..."
"But?"

Makoto saw where the director was going and looked to Katrina. "I do not have a partner, but I will win the Island Open in doubles this year. You will be my partner. You will get back to your home based on your skill."

"I don't know the first thing about tennis, you Dry-Bone heads!"

"I will teach you."

With a heavy sigh, Katrina gripped her hair and shook. "... Fine. I suppose there's nothing else here for me to do in 9 months."

"Normally I wouldn't allow a male and female to room together."

"As if it helped before," Makoto muttered under his breath. The headmaster didn't hear, but Katrina leered at Makoto.

"But given your species, the fact that there is no extra housing, and the amount of work Katrina..."

"Koopa." Katrina had the hang of his odd cues now.

"Koopa will have to go through, I see no problem with allowing you to be roommates. Well, off then youngsters. I'll have your paperwork done by tomorrow afternoon, Miss Katrina." The wiggly mustachioed man waved them off. Makoto soundlessly raised from his seat and guided Katrina to their dormitory.

***

Spring's warm breeze tickled up Makoto's flat stomach as he sat up in bed. He checked the fizzing LED display of the alarm clock on the maple dresser between his and Katrina's beds. It read, "3:00" and the last time Makoto had awoke to check, it had read, "2:00." Makoto peered out the open window and wondered what might force him to sleep for the important upcoming day.

… Perhaps the journal that Katrina had been keeping for the past few months would a bore. Just as silently as he executed all of his actions, Makoto slipped a dresser drawer open and tugged out the diary. Absently, he licked his right thumb, flicked to the first page, and clicked on a small lamp beside him.

***

Week 2

I don't understand how I've gone two weeks without breaking down into writing all of this. I don't even remember how I got here. Sometimes I'm not even sure where to begin. Ugh, I'll start with the myths first! Everyone here thinks that Mario is some sort of hero, some knight in shining armor to a peace-loving princess! No one identifies him as the racist that he is. He stops all over the Goombas, Koopas, Bob-ombs, Bloopers, and even Shy Guys. Oh, sure, he may have befriended a few of them in times past, but it was because Mario threatened them... and used them to overthrow the magnificent Bowser! All Bowser wants is to unite the many races under him. Some people get the misguided notion that he wishes to be some sort of dictator, and that prejudice seems to have passed over into the legends of this world. The nerve!

I don't even know how I'll get back to the Koopa Keep by playing tennis. My singles game is awful; I just don't have the knowledge to cut through those weaklings! My power is astounding compared to theirs though. It seems no one here has mastered broom levitation or any other sort of magic. I suppose I have a bit of an upper hand with my wand being converted into a racket. Doubles is the more realistic route, with my power and Makoto's understanding of the game, but I worry that we're never in sync. He never tells me anything personal; he always has his monosyllabic answers. He's 17 years old! You'd think they'd take a break from the courts and teach some vocabulary at this school. Don't get me started on his dress either. He's always wearing that ridiculous hoodie and light blue jeans that cover up his shoes! How can that baggy attire be appropriate for tennis of all sports?!

***

In the margins, Katrina had made a surprisingly accurate sketch of Makoto, flat face and all. Makoto passed his hand over the picture to see if he would feel himself, but it was just rough paper. There was also a more cartoon-like doodle of an enormous shelled being with a crown stomping on a short man in overalls. Not having been bored to dreamland yet, Makoto passed the pages to the latest entry, right in the middle of the notebook.

***

Week 32

Singles games are actually going decently for me. I'm the lowest rank in the varsity class, but I haven't made a challenge to get a higher rank yet. There's no downside for me losing, but I can't bring embarrassment to the Koopa name. I'm trying to work more on the singles game, but Makoto keeps pushing me to challenge the rank 1 team in doubles. We already have a seat in the Island Open at rank 2 and we breezed pass the previous rank 2s. I don't understand why he would want to risk our reputations! That boy still hasn't told me anything about himself. I still swear he's one of Mario's little spies. Ack, in any case, I've chosen to appease him. We make our …

***

Makoto closed the book, slid it back into its drawer, and lay face up on his bed. He tried to force a smug smile as he drifted off.

***

While it dried, Makoto's stuck-out tongue could just barely pick out salt in the oppressive waves of air. "Hnuh" he chortled as he waved about his racket.
Katrina spun around at the unfamiliar noise and noticed Makoto was, for once, grinning from ear to ear. "Lord Koopa!" she exclaimed, "What finally has you happy?"
"My heart is on this court," Makoto explained, hushed and wistfully.

Katrina opened her mouth to remark at the odd statement, but decided to hold back. "Aren't you the least bit worried that our last opponents are the girls who beat us at the academy?"
"We know their moves now... and you can break their telekineses power shots with magic."

"They never thought to write in rules against magic..." Katrina cackled. Katrina's eyes suddenly bulged and she screamed, "Reflect!" Sky blue capsules surrounded the doubles pair. What seemed like two transparent clocks raced toward them, but the bubbles bounced them away. Katrina spun her head around to meet eyes with Makoto. His smile had disappeared. "Do you hear that chanting?"

"Yes. 'Stopga. Stopga.' Why are they chanting?" He hadn't panicked a bit.

"It's a spell!" Katrina squealed. "Some group trying to halt everyone's movement in the entire stadium!" Indeed, Katrina saw it. Thousands of humans were caught in mid scream for their favorite tennis stars. Birds were frozen in mid air in their attempts to steal some kernels of salty popcorn. Even dust particles from the cleaning machines on the court were staying in place. It was as if Makoto and Katrina were walking through the most colorful and busy photograph imagined.

Katrina felt a hand grip her shoulder, spun around, and nearly smacked her tennis racket wand right into a young man's groin. He was about a foot taller than Makoto, 6'3", by Katrina's estimates. His hair was a pitch black and cut into a modest fauxhawk. His leather jacket and sneakers matched his hair perfectly, but he wore a pearly white wife-beater under the jacket, and jeans even lighter than Makoto's. Though Katrina would never fall for a human, she had to admit that this male had a strong build and an appealing face. Still, the appealing faces were those one could trust least. "What do you want?" Katrina barked.

"Oh, I just noticed that you were able to Reflect this too," the guy offered with a grin. "Hey, my name's Kyo. So I guess you know magic too."

"I'm surprised that anyone on this would knows that magic exists," Katrina replied as she turned to face Makoto, but her eyes kept fixed on the newcomer. She deliberated in her had for a moment before deciding to say, "I'm Katrina Koopa, granddaughter of the talented Kammy Koopa... This is Makoto."

"Ah, yea, I know all about you guys! I wouldn't be at this tournament otherwise!" Kyo shifted his attention over to Makoto, even widening his grin for a moment. "I actually heard that you were quite the lady charmer," he said with a crackling, embarrassed tone, but without blushing. Hoping to give the kid's hair a small ruffle, Kyo reached out, but just before his hand made contact, Makoto fell backwards.
"What did you do?" screamed Katrina while she rushed to her companion's side. "He's my only ticket home! I didn't get in the singles side!"
"Odd... I didn't mean to do anything," Kyo shrugged. "My friend has taken the liberty of dispelling those barriers though." Kyo nodded to a man in blue robes in the distance. "Believe me, it's better off for you this way, but we know you're too headstrong to come willingly," he whispered to the flabbergasted Magikoopa as he patted her blond locks.

"You Toa-!" Katrina managed before she was stopped by a sorcerer's spell.