Title: Defensive
Summary: Somebody needs to defend Tezuka's honor, after all.
Note: Based on this part ( i22. photobucket. com /albums/b334/kaokao_/Tenipuri/ryomamegane. png ) of Shinpuri 02.
Tezuka knows what Ryoma's going to do before he does it. He could've stopped him, but seeing that sly twist at one corner of his lips, the almost too-quick wink his left eye creases into, Tezuka doesn't complain when cool fingers slide gently against the bridge of his nose and hooks around the middle rim of his glasses.
Ryoma slips on Tezuka's frames without a word and as good as saunters onto the courts, racket slung casually across his shoulder.
The Sasabe guy's still shouting by the time Ryoma's made it to the net. Ryoma slouches down onto it, arms crossed over, and resists the urge to roll his eyes. "You okay with me?" Everything about his form is smug; his voice, his expression, the way he adjusts the glasses that are too large and sliding ever so slightly down his nose.
Sasabe's underestimating him, just like everyone usually does. He's annoying too, not so different to the usual either.
Suddenly another high school student intervenes, some bald guy wearing a flat cap that's out of place on a tennis court. Confident, arrogant – this would be fun. Ryoma allows his smirk to widen, takes the glasses off, and places it carefully in the right pocket of his Regular's jersey.
After the unofficial match, Ryoma hears Tezuka before he sees him. Ryoma glances over his shoulder to see Tezuka standing tall, looking down at him with that same stern expression on his face. Tezuka's gaze, however, is unfocused. He looks a little off balance – Ryoma doesn't miss that.
He shoulders his racket again and turns around fully with a grin – Tezuka won't be able to make it out very clearly. Ryoma palms the glasses in his pocket, fingers dancing over the smooth edge of one lens. He hands it over after a moment's deliberation.
Tezuka's eyes are closed when he puts his glasses back on. "Thank you," he says, after a short pause. He opens his eyes, vision focusing sharply through the lens.
Ryoma knows it's not the return of clarity that he's thanking him for. His grin settles into a smirk as he looks over his shoulder. "Heeh."
Tezuka follows his gaze to land on the sight of the player sprawled out across the other side of the court, blood staining the grass.
Tezuka narrows his eyes back on Ryoma, who's now smiling innocently up at him. "You're welcome, Buchou."