"Oi, Seishounen," Nanjiroh called his seventeen year old son over to him.

"What do you want, Oyaji?" Ryoma lazily answered.

"Don't forget about that meeting you have with that old hag this afternoon," he reminded his son with a smirk.

"Hai," he sighed.

"That pretty granddaughter of hers will probably be there too. At least you won't have to be with the old hag by yourself," Ryoma's father smirked.

"Baka."

"Her granddaughter is quite beautiful, Ryoma. She always was so pretty, but you were so dense back then. "

"Che, whatever," he commented back. And he wasn't that dense—he always knew the Coach's granddaughter was pretty, but, really, he was only a twelve year old boy at the time!

"Ah! When is my son going to grow up?! When are you going to start noticing those girls chasing after you?!" Nanjiroh dramatically cried.

"Ugh, Oyaji!" Ryoma glared. In truth, Ryoma did notice girls. He noticed some were pretty, some were not. Some were energetic, some were boring. Some were really aggressive and would walk right up to him, and some would faint upon first sight of seeing him. And he also noticed that all of these girls that chased after him were really annoying. "I have other things I need to focus on, like tennis," he answered his father.

"There's more to life than just tennis, boy. You have been gone for four years in America, so you have missed seeing that pretty Sakuno girl grow into a beautiful young woman," Nanjiroh told him, actually sounding wise for once.

Ryoma knew that there was more to life than just tennis. He wasn't as dense as what everybody thought, he just doesn't like to show it. Honestly, though, he was content with his life being just tennis for now. Nothing else had ever captured his interest quite like tennis did. Well, not yet, anyway.

"I'm going now. Ja," he said bye to his father.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Ryoma knocked on Coach Ryuuzaki's front door.

"Well, hello, Ryoma!" Sumire greeted him. "Come on in. I really am so glad you could come meet me today."

"Hn," he responded.

"Have a seat," she told him as they entered the kitchen. She gave him some tea. "So, first of all, welcome back from America, Ryoma."

"Thanks," he replied.

"Have you seen any of your old Seigaku teammates yet?" she asked.

"No, but I'm going to play tennis with them later tonight."

"Oh, all of them? Are you sure you can take on all of them at once?" she smirked.

"Che, are they all the same as they were before I left?" he asked.

"Most definitely," Sumire said.

"Hn, then yes, I can take them all on. Mada mada dane," Ryoma smirked.

"Haha," she laughed at the cockiness he still had. "They have been so excited for you to return back to Japan. Actually, they were hoping you could give them a few pointers since you have played on the professional tour."

Ryoma smirked again, "Hn, I suppose I can school them."

"That is actually what I wanted to talk to you about--tennis lessons," she stated, finally getting to the point.

"You want me to give my old teammates tennis lessons?" he asked confused. He was sure they couldn't be that bad. Heck, he knows they're not that bad—he used to play with them!

Sumire chuckled, "No, not for the former Seigaku Regulars, but for Sakuno."

Ryoma's eyes widened. He could not believe he was going to get stuck with giving Sakuno tennis lessons again.

"Now, I know what you're thinking, Ryoma," Coach Ryuuzaki explained, "but Sakuno really is not all that bad at tennis anymore. She's been practicing. Seigaku cut the girls' team the year Sakuno could have joined. Sakuno hasn't been able to play for quite some time now, and she greatly misses it. She always wants me to go practice with her, but with my old age I'm afraid I can't run around as much anymore. And I don't want her to stop playing, though, either. She's gotten too good to stop now."

Ryoma, always thinking about doing whatever it takes when it comes to tennis, asked Sumire, "You could have asked my father to teach her. That way she could have been practicing for awhile now. Why haven't you asked him?"

"Baka!" Sumire bumped him on his head with her fist. "Do you really think I'm going to leave my granddaughter with that perverted old man of yours?"

"Hn," Ryoma agreed.

"And," she continued, "I don't really want the Seigaku regulars to train her either. Taka is too intimidating when he has a racket in his hand. I'm sure Sakuno would not survive any of Inui's deluxe juices. Eiji has too much energy to be responsible. Kaidoh is too intimidating—even without a racket in his hand. The sadistic side of Fuji can never be trusted. Oishi is too motherly and probably wouldn't let Sakuno train with the intensity she needs. Tezuka is in Germany again. And Momo…well, he's just Momo."

"Hn," Ryoma said again.

"So, Ryoma, will you give her lessons?" Coach Ryuuzaki asked for the second time.

Ryoma thought it through for a moment. He really was curious to see if clumsy Sakuno really did become a better tennis player. Usually he wouldn't do this sort of thing—to agree to give lessons to a girl he hardly knew. For some reason, though, he started to remember the times when she would silently cheer for him behind the fence when he was twelve. He remembered the time when she ran up to him at the airport before he left to go to America. She was so sad because she thought she missed him. When all of these memories rushed back to him and flooded his mind, he just couldn't ignore the fact that she was a big part of his past, although he would never admit that to anyone.

"Hai," he agreed.

Then they heard the door being opened and the sound of shoes being kicked off onto the floor.

"Obaa-chan, I'm home!" Sakuno said as she walked to the kitchen. Looking at the table, she not only saw her obaa-chan, but also the boy she had had a crush on five years ago before he left for America.

"R-Ryoma-kun!" she exclaimed, surprised.