Extreme Streets Tennis
Hello!
So this story has been knocking around in my brain for several days now, and no matter what I do, every time I close my eyes – the idea comes back. So I figured the only way I can escape is to write the damn story… even if along the way… I create a few monsters… :D
I don't speak Japanese, nor have I ever learnt it – so I'll try my best, but bare with me if I mess up the honorific's, or use one or two words in the wrong context.
This story is a little… different, it's Ryoma centric, and focuses a lot on the notion of Super-rookie(s) and Ryoma's past – it's a little deeper look into how things could have been – and why they were…
Hmm, that sounds a little weird…
But it goes through his time at Seigaku too, through all the tournaments – and the Nationals – and then into something… else. There are a few unavoidable OCs, but don't worry as they won't take up the majority of the story. Most cannon characters are involved, but you'll find that I have changed a couple of backgrounds a little, resulting in twists throughout the normal plotline. It starts with a little background history for Ryoma, by about chapter 3 though, he'll be starting Seigaku.
Anyway, here is a summary:
If you think about it…
Not much is known about Echizen Ryoma's past before he came to Seigaku, apart from what was public knowledge, such as winning four consecutive American Junior Tennis tournaments and hence becoming known as a tensai, or prodigy child; 'The Prince of Tennis'. But what if there were something more then just his father teaching him tennis his whole childhood? Something deeper, and more dangerous, more thrilling… Didn't he have friends in America? Why does he sleep so much during the day? Eat so much for a small body? Why is his personality so reclusive? What if it wasn't Nanjiro that he needed to beat so badly? What if Ryoma had a secret past that went much further then even he could imagine, and if it came back to bite him, and everyone he knows in Japan? How, then, would the story unfold…?
I don't own P.o.T. or anything else you recognise. This is fanfiction, and no copyright is intended. Language warning! This story is rated 'M', there are a lot of themes in this story, if they offend you… I'll set Fuji on you. With a glass of Inui juice…
And… SPOILERS WARNING! If you haven't seen or read the OVAs then you probably won't understand some of this.
Also I reserve the right of creativity! Which means that while a few things in this story might seem a little… impossible at times… imagination makes it possible. :D
EST
Ryoma remembered when it began. He remembered all too well just how everything began.
It was the last day of school, a week or so before Ryoma's tenth birthday in America. His birthday was on the 24th of December, so a layer of snow covered the ground, and the air held a frosty chill, warning the people of New York to wrap up tight. Ryoma, who hated the cold, was plodding home from school in a grey hoodie jumper – the school he went to didn't require a uniform. His signature hat blocked the glare from the white snow, and his tennis racket bag was slung over his shoulder.
Currently his thoughts were on the nice hot bath at home, and on Karupin his beloved cat, waiting to cuddle at home, when –
"Hey! Echizen!" a loud voice yelled from behind him.
Started out of his thoughts, Ryoma turned around to be met with a boy about his age and size, with blonde hair and piecing blue eyes that seemed to burn with resentment. A tennis bag like his own was hefted on the boy's arm.
Ryoma blinked. "…Do I know you?" he asked, when the boy just continued to glare at him.
Somehow the boy seemed to take this as an insult, and he narrowed his eyes at Ryoma, lips lifting in a sneer. Ryoma was inwardly bewildered – he really had no idea who this baka joker was.
"You will soon, Ryoma Echizen! I'll make sure you never forget my name!"
Ryoma regarded him – unimpressed.
"Che," he said turning away again, if the boy didn't want to speak sense then he wasn't going to stick around and listen.
"HEY! Don't you walk away from me! I'm Kevin Smith, and I'm challenging you!"
That stopped him. A challenge? Why, sure. It might be fun to play someone else, other then his baka oyaji.
"Okay," the nine-year-old agreed simply, half turning to smirk at the mysterious Kevin Smith who looked like he held a personal grudge against him for some reason.
The two boys walked in silence to a nearby street tennis court, took out their rackets and stood on the opposite sides of the net.
"Which?" Ryoma asked.
"Rough!"
"Heh," was this guy for real? "Smooth."
Kevin's mouth twisted sourly and he went to stand in his receiving position. Ryoma walked confidently to the base line, taking out a ball.
Bounce, bounce. "Hey, when I win, tell me what this is about, won't you?" Ryoma said.
"Just serve already!" Kevin snapped.
Bounce. "Mada Mada Dane." Bounce, bounce.
Ryoma threw the ball up with practiced form, easily catching it with his racket, and sending it zooming into the other half. The game had begun.
Kevin smacked it back with pent up aggression, and Ryoma was surprised by the force behind it. Neither willing to let up, they rallied back and forth, getting faster and stronger with each hit, keeping pace with the other. Soon though, Kevin slipped on a slightly icy patch, giving Ryoma the first point.
The game continued – swallowing up the minutes as the boys lost themselves in the flow. They discarded their warmer outer-garments despite the cold air, as the exertion quickly had them dripping in sweat. Kevin was actually pretty good, and as the score was levelled at three games all, Ryoma found to his surprise that he was enjoying himself. Usually he only had his father to play against, and he always lost as his father's skill was off the charts. This Kevin kid was practically a made rival for Ryoma, he had never played a game like this before, and somehow that made him want to win all the more.
Little did the boys know, they weren't alone, someone was watching their game from the shadows.
After another half and hour, Ryoma finally pulled a victory at seven games to five, and they both fell panting onto the cold bitumen court.
"Wow," Kevin murmured, Ryoma's good ears catching the breathy words. "Father, was your opponent like this?"
Ryoma frowned for a moment, confused at the comment, but then he dismissed it. "Look," Ryoma said, climbing up on his knees so he could peer over the net at the boy. "Kevin, I don't know what your quarrel is with me, but that was the most brilliant game of tennis I've ever played," he stated. It wasn't often that Ryoma gave out compliments, mostly because of the lack of people worthy of them.
"Me too." Kevin smiled up at him, and then clamoured up on his own knees to face Ryoma, he suddenly looked sheepish. "Err… I'm sorry about being so rude and challenging you like that, I guess… I see now… my problem isn't really with you, so – err – yeah… I'm sorry,"
"Don't mind," Ryoma smirked at the boy's uncertainty, he offered his hand over the net, and Kevin gladly grasped it. Ryoma felt a strange euphoria erupt inside him as they smiled at each other. Was this what it was like to have a friend?
"Oi, you kids," a new, older, voice called from off to their left. The two boys spun around, quickly springing to their feet in the shock of being snuck up on in spite of being exhausted. The newcomer was a handsome boy of about fifteen years of age; he had black hair that fell around his face, pulled into a tie at the nape of his neck, and calculating hazel eyes in a weirdly otherwise, emotionless face. He looked very fit, as his stance oozed lithe muscle underneath his black sweater, and he easily towered over both of them. A lit cigarette was held daintily between two fingers, but as he stepped forward out of the shadows of a building, he dropped it and crushed it beneath his black boots.
Ryoma's instincts swiftly become alert, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as something about the very nature of this young man screamed 'danger'.
This did not escape the newcomer's notice, and a slow smile spread across the guy's face.
"Huh, no need to get your tails in a knot, I just want to talk," his voice was low and silky; reassuring them. "My name is Felix Summers. I was passing by, and couldn't help noticing your exhilarating game."
"Do you play?" Kevin asked curiously, Ryoma shot the blonde boy a look, his attitude now seemed a lot friendlier.
Felix gave a soft laugh, sort of warm… and soothing – however Ryoma saw that it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Tennis? No, I don't play tennis. I play something like it, but with a more… thrilling edge, shall we say. However, I do at the moment; have a sort of club going on; an elite club for individuals, such as yourselves, who show great potential and promise in being… prodigies, or geniuses in tennis. It's a training association, you meet and challenge a lot of different people, and if we have a team, we enter in competitions and tournaments and such. We'll meet in a few days time, and I would greatly appreciate it if you two would join us. What I'm trying to say is that I'm offering you both a chance to become all that you can be. To evolve yourselves into players unlike ones ever seen before. 'Super-rookies' some would say. Of course, you're under no obligation to come; I'm merely extending the hand of welcome."
Silence met Felix's speech. Honestly Ryoma wasn't sure what to think, part of him wanted to flatly refuse right then, and yet something in Felix enticed you to listen… A glance at Kevin revealed his newfound friend to be in the same struggle, but the Smith boy, it seemed, was a little more trusting.
"Ah, okay, we'll think about it," Kevin said.
Felix smiled, and Ryoma was bizarrely reminded of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland – a movie his cousin had once forced him to watch as a younger child.
"Perfect. That is all I ask, here take these cards, they'll give you instructions on how to get there. We start on Sunday at 3:00pm, don't be late."
The fifteen year old rapidly flipped two cards out of his sleeves, so they appeared to magically materialize in his hands; he flicked them towards the boys with surprising skill – and they spun through the air and flickered in front of them for a second – allowing the two boys to snatch them up.
Ryoma looked down at it. It was silver with the initials E.S.T. in neat, bold letters on one side and an address on the other. There was no phone number, only a quote beneath it;
– dare to play –
Ryoma frowned, what was that supposed to mean? He looked back up at Felix, mouth opening to ask a question, but it died on his lips.
Felix was, of course, gone.
This was shocking for Ryoma in its own way, as he prided himself on having exceptionally good senses, especially hearing. To not even hear the older boy moving away… it was eerily unsettling.
"Dare to play…" Kevin tested the saying out. "Sounds cool, don't you think?"
"…Hai,"
"What?"
"Oh, sorry, I mean yes," he'd unconsciously slipped back into Japanese.
EST
Ryoma had to wonder… if he'd known then what that card would bring, if he had known just how completely his whole life would change… would he still have taken it?
…Probably. I am stubborn like that.
EST
Ryoma closed the front door behind him, automatically slipping off his shoes, his thoughts still back on the tennis court and on the silver card sitting ominously in his pocket. Karupin came trotting along, meowing to be picked up, and Ryoma instinctively obeyed. Hugging the Himalayan kitten to his chest, he moved through the house, wanting nothing more then to collapse on his bed.
"Nani? Heeeh, what's this! The brat finally returns!"
Kuso
Ryoma swore at the sound of his father's voice, damn, why couldn't the old man just leave him alone, just this once? But it was not to be, as Nanjiro Echizen came sauntering in before him, staring down at him with a predator-like look. Ryoma glared back from under his hat, turning his head so he could fix his father with one golden eye.
"What happened? Did you get lost? Or perhaps–" Nanjiro's expression turned sly, "– a girlfriend? Hmm… Iie, too young for that…"
"Baka oyaji," Ryoma said, moving to try and get around the annoying man who was blocking the way to his bedroom.
"Pah! Well whatever you were doing, don't think it means you won't get a tennis match. We can easily turn the lights around the court on, so hurry up and get warmed up."
"Yadda," Ryoma snubbed him, finally slipping past and into his bedroom. It took several seconds for Nanjiro to react.
"NANI?! What do you mean 'no'? Don't you want to play a game?"
"Yadda."
Ryoma closed the door in his father's face, slinging his bag and rackets into the corner of his room, and then carefully sprawling on the bed so as not to squash Karupin.
"Matte," the door opened and Nanjiro pranced over to start feeling Ryoma's forehead, "Are you sick? Injured?" He picked up one of Ryoma's arms to examine his son's body in a way that – he probably thought – looked like he knew what he was doing. Ryoma snatched his hand back irritably, just because this was the first time he'd declined a tennis match, doesn't mean the old man has to act this weird!
"Iie. Tired. Go away." He rolled over and pulled a pillow up over his head.
"Che," his father snorted, and the next thing Ryoma knew, his world turned upside down as Nanjiro effortlessly picked him up and carried him out the room, fireman style.
Ryoma struggled. "Ittai! Baka oyaji, stop it! Put me down!"
"Uhe, uhe. Uhe, uhe," Nanjiro sang over Ryoma's demands, as he moved outside, after picking up his son's tennis racket.
Unceremoniously dumping Ryoma on the court next to his racket, Nanjiro picked up his own racket and stood on the opposite side. Ryoma was extremely annoyed; he'd just played a long exhausting game with Kevin, and then met that Felix kid, it was cold, and all he wanted to do was cuddle Karupin on his bed and fall asleep. Nanjiro was stretching on the other side.
"Ne, brat, do your stretches."
"Yadda, no need," Ryoma growled, he just wanted to get this over with quickly.
Nanjiro narrowed his eyes shrewdly, "Heeh, you seem extra bad-tempered today, not that you aren't always bad-tempered, mind you. What's got your tail in a knot?"
Ryoma scowled, what was with everyone likening him to a cat? "Just serve already!" Ryoma snapped, and then stopped, realising that he sounded just like Kevin had before.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about," Nanjiro lectured, waggling his racket at his son. "You'll never get a girl if that's your attitude."
Ryoma cracked. He was not in the mood for this today. Letting the racket slip from his hands to fall onto the court, he stuck his hands in his pockets, and stalked back towards the house.
There was a choking sound from behind him, "N-NE! Ryoma! Don't you walk away from me!"
"Che," Ryoma said entering the house, that one wouldn't work a second time this day.
EST
Saturday went by almost uneventfully. Ryoma met up with Kevin again in the morning at the street courts, this time, Kevin won seven games to five. It seemed the two boys were evenly matched. Ryoma was surprised at the change in personality in Kevin, now that he seemed to have gotten over whatever his quarrel had been; he was like a completely different person. Bright and peppy, somewhat childish at times, but very passionate and enthusiastic; generally a nice guy. The fact that Kevin was an awesome tennis player helped a lot too.
Later, Ryoma granted his father a game of tennis, saying nothing when asked what his problem had been the night before. He fell asleep that night feeling undecided about the next day, while Kevin was all for meeting the Felix guy and going to this training club, Ryoma was a little more suspicious. There was something off about it, he knew that, but curiosity was tickling him. Should I tell my father about Felix? Ryoma shut down that notion, what use had his baka oyaji been in situations like this?
Situations like what? another part of Ryoma asked, what exactly is going on here anyway? He rolled over to stare at the dim ceiling. Really the only way to know was to go tomorrow… besides he should look out for Kevin… Ryoma groaned indecisively… should he stay or should he go? He glanced sideways at the silver card propped up on his bedside table; the words – dare to play – glistened in the moonlight. That was the question really, did he dare?
EST
The two nine year olds stood outside the given address at 3:00pm the next day. It was a huge warehouse, bigger then a gymnasium. Ryoma eyed it dubiously, there was no sign out the front – nothing to indicate that it was as Felix had said – a training club.
"Do we knock? What do you think" Kevin cocked his head to the side, taking in the huge steel doors.
"Oh, no you go through the side door," a new voice said from right behind them. Ryoma and Kevin whirled around to see a boy their age smiling at them in amusement. Or at least it looked like amusement… maybe… Ryoma wasn't sure. The boy in front of them had his eyes closed, and was smiling kindly – if with a somewhat creepy – angelic look. He was a little taller then them, pale, had light blonde curls framing his face, and was dressed simply in a long sleeved white shirt that seemed a bit thin for the weather. He, like Felix, appeared to have a lithe, fit body, but he spoke in an airy way, as if in a dream, or as if everything in the world were pleasant. Overall he looked like a bishounen. (A/N that's like a pretty boy, I think.)
"Are you the new members? I sure hope so. I would like to play a game soon. They call me Moon, it is a pleasure to meet you." The boy smiled absent-mindedly.
"They call you Moon?" Ryoma asked.
"Yes. I suggest you don't use your real names inside. At least, not your real last names."
"Why's that?" Kevin piped up.
Moon smiled mildly. "It would be in your best interest." With that the boy moved off towards a smaller door to the side of the warehouse. He opened it, and then turned to look back at Ryoma and Kevin, who were still standing where he left them. "Coming?" Not waiting for an answer, Moon slid gracefully inside, the darkness swallowing him quickly from their view.
Ryoma and Kevin exchanged looks.
"I'm willing to bet that everyone in this place is weird," Kevin said, and Ryoma whole-heartedly agreed. But if he'd had a tickling curiosity before, now he was burning with it.
"Come on," Ryoma said and led the way to the side door. He had only a brief hesitation before stepping through, and the two boys found themselves in a dark narrow corridor.
"Moon?" Kevin called out cautiously, his voice echoed around, but no answer came. "Heh, must have gone up ahead."
"Aa."
Ryoma moved forward down the corridor, Kevin following close behind. Occasionally there were small windows high above that allowed the boys to see, but those were too few and far in-between to shed any real light. A distant noise echoed around them, it sounded like yelling… and there was the sound of balls rebounding… This was promising as both boys had brought their tennis rackets. They walked more swiftly down the train-track corridor, the noises gradually getting louder.
"Bloody hell, how big is this place," Ryoma heard Kevin mutter under his breath.
Eventually they came to a pair of double doors, a bright light spilled out from underneath it and it was clear that this was the source of the sounds.
"Err… wait," Kevin grabbed Ryoma's arm, he seemed nervous now. "Shouldn't we think of some names first?"
Ryoma shrugged, "Okay."
"What are you going to call yourself?"
Ryoma thought for a moment, before an idea struck him. Hm, why not? He was his father's son, wasn't he?
"Ryoma Samurai," he said boldly.
Kevin grinned, "Hey that's good! Umm… Oh, I know! How about Kevin… Braveheart! No… err… Kevin… Kevin… Lionheart! Yes that's it, Kevin Lionheart."
"Alright,"
The two boys looked at each other and Kevin's grin faltered.
"Err, after you then," Kevin nudged him.
"Che," Ryoma smirked, Lionheart, my ass. Nevertheless, Ryoma put his best foot forward and pushed down on the handle, swinging the door open.
Bright artificial light flooded them, and they stood blinking for several seconds, blinded by the sudden change. When their vision refocused, they gasped.
A huge training gymnasium stretched before them, but it was no normal gym. It seemed to be a jumble of various things. To their left were two normal tennis courts, but these paled in comparison to the equipment around them. To their right was what seemed to be an extremely advanced children's adventure playground, with hundreds of monkey bars, poles, tires and ropes all intertwined, behind that were various gymnastics equipment, rings, and balancing beams and more bars. The back wall was one of those indoor climbing rock walls, below that was a large blue mat. On the other side, was some weird, tall structures made to look like buildings, next to that there was – an indoor swimming pool?! – and a bridge that crossed it. Weights and exercise gear took up a space next to that, ropes dangled from the ceiling, and next to the tennis courts were piles of equipment and clothes. Around the edge of the warehouse was a track of sand, like what you would find at an athletics stadium for racing. It was a little overwhelming.
But more so were the people training inside, if that's what it could be called. It was more like a surreal dream… there was no way… it all had to be some sort of elaborate trick, because what the people were doing simply wasn't possible.
On the tennis courts two people were playing a fast game, this in itself wasn't so special, but they were using both courts. Hitting the ball back and forth with extreme power, speed, and precision, and yet somehow managing to keep up – almost blurring from court to court they were moving so fast, and the ball between them was moving faster then the eye could see. On the adventure playground there was someone flinging themselves around – practically flying through the air as they expertly twisted through bars, swung across ropes – flipping and spinning nearly ten meters off the ground. On the back wall a girl leapt from ledge to ledge, free-climbing with no apparent heed to her safety. A monster-sized black boy was lifting heavy weights, and on the large blue mat was Moon doing some stretches. There were only eight people in the room, counting themselves – but all of them looked about their age.
"Whoa…" Kevin breathed, summing up the sight nicely.
"Halt," a low familiar, smooth voice ordered, from the tennis courts. Ryoma looked closer and saw that one of the players was Felix. The fifteen year old had caught the tennis ball, and was standing waiting to gain everyone's attention. He seemed barely out of breath, while his opponent – who was half his size – was breathing heavily. Soon all other motion had stopped in the warehouse, the girl had jumped down and was now standing next to Moon on the mat, the boy doing the acrobats on the playground, did a last double flip before landing on the edge of the blue mat, and the large black boy set down his weights and lumbered over, shifting his shoulders and moving his neck to get out the kinks. The younger kids surrounded Felix on the edge of the blue mat at the start of the courts, Ryoma and Kevin observed silently from the doorway. The kids finally noticed the two newcomers, and eyed them curiously; Felix had his back to them.
"Well, are you two just going to stand there, or are you going to come in?" the handsome boy asked, without turning his head.
Kevin and Ryoma exchanged a quick glance, before just as silently starting forward towards the small group. They stood to one side, but facing Felix now.
"I'm glad you two decided to come," Felix praised them with his melodious tones, but once again the warmth didn't quite reach his eyes. "As you can see, we have few members so every person counts."
"Are they our new members?! Great-o!" the acrobat cheered, a wide smile threatening to split the loud boy's face. Then he seemed to realize that he'd interrupted. "Ahh, gomen, gomen, Felix-sensei!"
Ryoma flicked his eyes curiously at this kid, who obviously spoke Japanese, but his plume of wild red hair was disconcerting.
Felix gazed at the boy for a second longer, then said, "That's alright Kin-chan, but they are not new members unless they decide to commit themselves, this is only their first meeting after all."
"Hai, hai…Ano… gomen," 'Kin-chan' bowed.
"Introductions first then," Felix turned to Ryoma and Kevin, "me, you already know as Felix."
Moon smiled at them. "And me, as Moon."
"Duke. It's a pleasure," the tall, bald black boy boomed, though his huge muscles were a little intimidating, one wide white-toothed grin changed his whole aura from an impressive monster, to a kind of friendly giant.
"I am Sam; it will be interesting to see how this new development pans out." Sam was the small player who versed Felix on the courts; he had long brown hair, and a pair of round glasses was balanced on his nose.
The only girl in the room smirked at them arrogantly, before giving a dismissing sniff, and finding her nails to be of more interest. She had short, spiky red hair, and a pointed face, but sly eyes – giving Ryoma the impression of a fox. "Katara, I'm sure the pleasure's all yours."
"Katara, don't be so rude!" the wild red-head boy wagged a finger at her. "Don't mind my twin, she's just being baka. I'm Kintarou, but you can call me Kin-chan!" he used his thumb to point to himself and gave a huge wink along with his wild grin.
"Douzo yoroshiku," Ryoma said, (A/N which I'm pretty sure means 'Nice to meet you').
Kintarou blinked. "Ne! You speak Japanese! SUGOI!"
"Ittai! Will you shut up, you baka head!" his twin screamed as Kintarou had yelled in her ear.
"So what are your names?" Moon asked, smiling as always, but this time there was a very slight dangerous undertone to his words, silently reminding them of his warning outside.
"Kevin…Lionheart," Kevin said, with only the briefest of pauses.
"Ryoma Samurai."
EST
(A/N Just in case it wasn't clear, yes Kintarou is the same Kintarou from the OVAs. Everyone else are OCs, sorry, but necessary :D)
Surprisingly, everyone – apart form Felix – was nine years old, even Duke, with his extreme physique, and Sam, despite his small size. Ryoma and Kevin quickly found in first day, that as great as they were, their skills at tennis were not even close to these guys' levels. It wasn't just that they knew a lot more techniques, it was that their general speed, strength, coordination, power, agility, accuracy, flexibility – any ability really – completely trounced their own. It was a humbling experience, watching these guys play and work out. But Ryoma couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was missing something. Something they weren't telling Kevin or him, something they were holding back…
The trainings were ruthless though, not only did they play tennis, but they had to complete other training too, such as seeing how quickly they could collect numerous flags from an obstacle course in the adventure playground, or how quickly they could scale the wall, swim the length of the pool, or run around the track of sand. Seeing how far they could go in gruelling yoga exercises that stretched their bodies further then Ryoma thought possible, seeing how good their balance was, how high they could jump, how high they could fall from, and teaching them how to land safely using the gymnastics equipment, and how to roll to absorb shock. Seeing how many weights they could lift, or how many wet beanbags they could hit into buckets nearly fifty feet away. They even had fighting training sessions on the blue mat, but Ryoma and Kevin only watched those at first. The training was gruelling and dismal, because, to be quite frank, both Ryoma and Kevin sucked at it.
They were assured by everyone though that this was always the case to start off with, and that they would improve with time. It was all highly embarrassing though for Ryoma, especially since no one would play tennis with him apart from Kevin, they would all give him the same answer – that he wasn't ready yet.
Of course they came back after the first session, who could resist after tasting that? For the first two weeks they met on Sunday, Friday, and Tuesday too, seeing as it was the holidays. When school started again, Friday and Tuesday meetings were moved to night sessions. For both the boys it was easy to slip out unnoticed after dark. Kevin's Dad, who Ryoma found out was an alcoholic, was usually too drunk to notice, and Kevin's Mum no longer lived with them. For Ryoma, his okaasan was a busy lawyer usually caught up in work, or too exhausted coming home from work to notice anything but the coffee machine. And his father, well… Nanjiro was caught up in himself… Really, as long as Ryoma's father got his games of tennis he was happy, and would leave Ryoma well enough alone.
Ryoma and Kevin gradually grew closer to the members of the club, neither of them had ever been a part of a group like this before, so it was an entirely new experience for both of them. Kevin fast became Ryoma's first real best-friend, their similar tennis styles, and Kevin's easy going personality drew Ryoma in closer, and most importantly they understood one other. Kevin eventually told him why he had first hunted him down, how Nanjiro had once defeated his father, and everything that had happened after that. They walked home with one another from meetings, and sometimes Ryoma would go over to Kevin's house when his friend's father was out. Kevin started learning Japanese at school, and Ryoma helped him along with it.
Moon also became a friend, but not as close. His strange mysterious smile masked his real emotions most of the time, and his vague way of speaking made him hard to talk to. Ryoma had only seen Moon open his eyes once, and his jaw had nearly hit the ground. Moon's eyes were the colour of the most azure sky, baby blue eyes Ryoma had ever seen, but what struck him was the intense look of absolute sadness in his eyes – right before Moon smashed the ball so hard that it ended embedded in the court. Moon's general style of play was to almost float on court, taking light dancing steps across the court so fast he almost seemed to disappear and reappear. One time after practice, Moon had brought a violin with him, and he'd played the most beautiful, most haunting music Ryoma had ever heard. There were a lot of unknowns with Moon… Ryoma had a sneaking suspicion that Moon knew how to speak Japanese, but he'd never been able to definitely prove it. Also when Ryoma had pressed Moon about why he had been so insistent on false names, he had just smiled furtively, and said:
"Sometimes it better to have a secret identity."
Duke was a friendly guy, very loyal, with a barking laugh that resounded around the entire warehouse. While not the absolute brightest fellow in the world, he certainly took the title of strongest nine year old ever. Duke was always determined to do his best, a true monster on the court, he mostly played as a hard hitter – he had a shot that could probably kill someone at point black range – or even not a point blank range, come to think of it… Duke was best-friends with Sam, which Ryoma thought was the strangest friendship he'd ever seen. Duke also wouldn't stop calling Ryoma, "Little bro," no matter how many times Ryoma asked him not to.
Sam was genius. There was almost nothing the boy didn't know, Ryoma suspected that he had a photographic memory, as he'd once seen him reading a book as though just looking at the page numbers. Sam spoke five different languages, one of which was Japanese. He had the uncanny ability to predict a game, down to the number of rallies, where the ball would be hit, how it would be hit, and how to return it in near impossible speed. Being as small as he was, he was often overlooked, something he always used to his full advantage. When wearing his glasses his vision was a good as a hawk, when not wearing them he was as blind as a bat. Ryoma also found out that the names 'Duke' and 'Sam' were fake names, just like 'Moon' and Ryoma's and Kevin's supposed last names.
Katara was a vixen, and a rouge on court. Her words were as sharp and as witty as her movements. She would use cunning, and cutting strikes to destroy her opponent, before dancing away again like a professional assassin. Socially-wise, she began to ease up on Ryoma a tad, as she seemed to realise that his aloof, and sometimes sarcastic and cocky personality fit quite well with hers. Kevin, on the other hand, bore the full brunt of her unreasonable dislike, and the two bickered non-stop. During one of their more vocal fights, Moon had absently remarked that they were like a dog and a fox. Ryoma had raised an eyebrow at this comment.
"Don't you mean a dog and a cat?"
Moon smiled at him. "No, that would be you and Kevin. And for some reason you two get along fine."
"Yes," Sam put in, as he unwrapped some power-wrist weights and ankle weights. "We cannot understand it, technically you both have complete opposite personalities and yet you are the best of friends."
"Che, speak for Duke and yourself. That's practically like a bear being friends with a hawk." Ryoma took a sip from the can of Fanta in his hand, but stopped when he realised that both Moon and Sam were staring at him with the strangest expressions. Ryoma frowned, "Nani?"
"Nothing," they both said, and turned away.
Kintarou was a wild-child; he loved to play his abnormal, haphazard, acrobatic tennis, was always cheerful, and always loud. Though he looked wiry and sinewy, he was actually as strong as an orangutan, and he had passion and love of the game bursting from his seams. Ryoma found out, however, that the twins were orphans, and lived in an orphanage. Their names weren't fake either, Kintarou had told him that there wasn't any need for the twins to have false identities.
Felix was distant from the kids, and was still a bit of a mystery. He was a very strict coach, unsympathetic, and unyielding in training. The handsome boy pushed everyone hard in an almost Spartan schedule, everyone obeyed him, everyone respected him, and everyone slightly feared him. His talent was so great that he hardly broke a sweat, and never grew tired or exhausted. Felix always wore black, almost always had a cigarette in his hand, and sometimes a bottle of alcohol. The first time Ryoma and Kevin saw this, Kevin freaked out and the two got into their first real fight, as Kevin wanted to go and confront Felix about it and Ryoma had to physically stop him. Ryoma had been afraid for his friend, he was pretty sure that alcohol wouldn't dim Felix's abilities – especially when it came to physical fighting. That was another thing about Felix; he wouldn't hesitate to hit one of them if they went against him. Eventually Kevin had calmed down, and apologised ceaselessly for nearly five minutes, Ryoma forgave him but he had to go home sporting a whopper of a black eye.
Ryoma himself… he felt like he was living two lives. There was the normal one, where he woke up late, barely made it to school on time, went to class, slept through Japanese, slept through lunch, did his homework, played a game of tennis with the old man, and went to sleep. Then there were the days he went to training, those days or nights left him so tired by the next morning, that he could barely drag himself out of bed. But after six weeks, the training was definitely starting to pay off, and Ryoma could feel himself improving, soon stuff he had found hard and gruelling to begin with became easier, and he found himself barely out of breath after running twenty laps around the sand-track.
During school hours he slept a lot, and generally avoided other people. With his new friends however, he found himself opening up, smiling more, even laughing, playing around with Kintarou on the equipment, trying to beat Katara up the wall, trying to beat Moon in running, Duke in weights, Kevin in tennis, and training with Felix in fighting. Sam helped a bit with school work, when members found themselves slipping behind. But the first real change happened seven weeks after Ryoma first joined.
He had been going through a new advanced obstacle course, collecting small coloured ribbons among the adventure playground. He had already run thirty laps around the sand track, swam twenty laps of the pool, done fifty push ups and eighty sit ups, climbed the wall, and hit wet bean bags into buckets fifty feet away – without missing a single one. Ryoma was at his utmost limit, but Kevin had already completed the course, so if Kevin could do it, he could do it…
…The next thing he knew, he woke up on the blue mat.
"Ryoma!" Kevin cried in relief, swamping him in a life-squeezing hug. The rest of the gang surrounded him, and nearly all of them were grinning, even Felix had a handsome smirk on his lips, Kevin seemed to be the only one in distress.
"Kevin let me up, I'm fine!" his blonde friend relented and Ryoma wearily sat up.
"W-what happened?" The last thing I remember I was taking the course…
"You did it Ryoma-kun!" Kintarou cheered, turning and glomping his sister in delight. Katara gave a squawk of indignation, and struggled free.
"Did what?" Ryoma was confused, and feeling a little dazed. "I completed the course?"
"That too," Moon smiled.
"But more importantly you surpassed your limit, you broke through to what we call Level Five," Sam said.
"Yeah, good going, Little Bro," Duke patted him on the back, leaving Ryoma half-winded.
"Level… Five…?"
"You used my triple flip, double spin! It was awesome!"
Ryoma looked at his wild friend in disbelief. "Yeah right, Kin-chan, I can barely do a double flip."
"That doesn't matter when you reach Level Five." Sam pushed his glasses back more securely on his face. "Now you are probably wondering what the Levels are, correct?"
"Hai…"
"It is quite simple really. There are six known Levels overall. Level One is child's-play, nearly anyone can do it, it is amateur, and is basically just warming up. Level Two requires an intermediate skill, with a little more complicated moves and techniques. Level Three is more advanced. It is approximately what your skill level was when you first came, it uses more advanced techniques and specialities, like in tennis your 'Twist Serve'."
"Aa,"
"Level Four is more complicated again; it uses a wider range of techniques, your general skill level increases, such as your power, speed, accuracy, etcetera. Most people in tennis do not go above this Level. However, you just have. Level Five is something completely different; the Japanese call it, Muga no Kyōchi or the State of Self Actualization. A state in which the user naturally intakes all techniques they see and can perfectly copy them, all abilities increase and your play style is completely unpredictable. There are generally three doors to this Level, three 'pinnacles' that are considered the epitome of tennis."
"I'm sensing a 'but' right about now," Ryoma remarked dryly.
Sam smiled. "But this is in fact wrong, there are Levels beyond this, but it is not well known to society. The nature of Level Five disconnects you from your mind, so that you're playing at a sub-conscious level and acting on instincts before thinking. As a result you do not feel pain, or exhaustion, nor do you entirely remember what happens. Level Six is different." Suddenly Sam hesitated, and looked up at Felix, as if waiting for his permission.
Felix drew a long draught from his cigarette, blowing it out slowly, his calculating hazel eyes fixed on Ryoma's face.
"I think," Felix began in his usual silky voice, "that you're finally ready to know. All of you."
The atmosphere went tense, Kevin and Ryoma were spell-bound, were they at last going to get some answers?
Ryoma licked his lips, unable to help asking, "Know what?"
Wisps of smoke curled around Felix, his hazel eyes bore into Ryoma's golden ones.
"About Extreme Streets Tennis. The ultimate game."
EST
"The majority of you are all Level Six already, except for our newest members." Felix nodded towards Kevin and Ryoma. "The rest of you have already surpassed the third pinnacle of Level Five, the Pinnacle of Perfection, and evolved. But since Ryoma and Kevin arrived, you've all of held off going beyond the second pinnacle on my request. However from this moment on, you are all allowed to go as far as you can once more." A murmur of pleasure flowed through the troop of kids around Ryoma. "Level Six is a level that goes back to the time of the ancient warriors. The warriors would meditate in the sub-conscious state, or Level Five, and would search inside themselves… to find their inner ancient animal spirit. Once they find it, the spirit is brought out and transferred to their weapons, when battling they no longer are barely conscious of their opposition, or their surroundings, only the opposing animal spirits. In their eyes, the battle becomes one between the animal spirits."
"I… don't understand," Kevin said, looking confused.
Felix puffed on the fag, "You will when you achieve it. The others already have… and the animal spirit doesn't have to be a real animal, in other words it can be a mythological creature. For example mine… is a Griffin."
"Mine is a wolf," Moon smiled.
Kintarou excitedly threw his hand up in the air, bouncing on the spot. "Mine is an orangutan!"
"Fox," Katara drawled.
"Bear," Duke boomed
"Hawk," said Sam.
Moon shifted his weight. "What of this 'Extreme Streets Tennis' though?" he asked in a dreamy manner. "You've hinted towards it in the past, but never actually informed us about it." Felix turned his head slightly and considered Moon.
Then he said softly, "Alright. However, I can only tell you, if you all swear by your very lives, that you will not speak another word of this to anyone." His eyes were cold slits of gleaming hazel. There was a group gulp. But one by one they swore not to tell. Felix gave a slow nod. "Extreme Streets Tennis is unlike anything you've ever seen before," he started, staring off to the side as memories clouded his eyes. "The game is not only extremely dangerous to play, but requires extreme Levels of all abilities; power, speed, concentration, strength, teamwork, force, agility, accuracy, spin, coordination, balance, flexibility, and precision. It can only be played by those who can reach at least Level Five, and requires a team of seven people, one of which is a captain, plus optional coach or manager. Anyone can play between the ages of ten to twenty-five, after that you retire with your spoils, or become a manager or coach."
"Spoils? What do you mean by that?" Katara asked, narrowing her eyes at Felix from her squatted position on the blue mat.
"It means money, fame, fortune, respect, and power, whatever you desire really. You see, Extreme Streets Tennis is a game of the underworld. And what I mean by that is, that it doesn't come up in everyday conversation, and that if the authorities did know about it, it would probably become illegal." There was a group intake of breath at this new revelation. Ryoma gazed at Felix, a faint frown marring his face. Felix continued, flicking his eyes from one person to another. "At a higher station, this game is played world-wide, and then it becomes a billionaires' game, they make bets on which team will win. The winners of those games get the reward of at least five million dollars a person." Kintarou made a choking sound and stared wide-eyed at Felix.
"But we won't play in those games." Felix sucked on his cigarette, speaking around it. "We'll play in tournaments here in America; the prize money here is about two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a person. Not only that, but you gain the respect and fame throughout the underground world, gain the power of influence, the power to pull strings. People will listen to you, or risk running against the big gangs in EST." Here Felix's eyes glittered darkly, but it was gone in a flash when he looked up, so fast in fact that Ryoma wondered if he imagined it. "So this game is extremely popular, why? It's because playing Extreme Streets is the most exhilarating experience of a life time. The entire team naturally loses themselves completely in the game; it conjures a more glorious euphoric feeling, unachieved by any amount of alcohol, sex, or drugs.
"The thrill of the game absorbs you, and absorbs any who watch it too. It is pure genius, and the players become practically inhuman. It's only been invented in the last ten years, so a lot of people who aren't in the right circles don't know about it. But those that are, have completely hit off with it from the very start. It's spread through the underworld like wildfire, becoming a game to live by – a game to die for. As I said before, it's the ultimate game."
"So how do you play?" Kevin asked a little warily.
"As you might have guessed, it's a little like tennis. At least, there is a ball, and you have rackets. But there's no court, no real boundaries. All seven players play at the same time, along with seven of the opposition. You serve a special ball, different from tennis, and use rackets that are slightly longer and wider then your average racket. What you have to do, quite simply, is hit the ball towards one of your players, letting the ball bounce twice, and see how many passes you can get. The aim of the game is to get more passes then the opposite team, and to do this you have to intercept their passes, while keeping your own. Serves interchange between players on both teams and the game ends when the number of passes reaches 1000."
"1000?!" nearly everyone gaped. Ryoma remained stoic, his golden eyes fixed unmoving on Felix.
"But… I don't understand… that doesn't sound too exciting or dangerous…?" Kevin frowned.
"You're right; it wouldn't be so dangerous if it was set in say, a flat field in the middle of nowhere. But these games are rarely set in places like that. People want the full advantage of them, and so they are generally played in more complex places – on top of buildings, or bridges, cruise ships, and car tips. Once one was even played on a highway." A faint smiled curled Felix's lips.
Kevin sweat-dropped. "O-Okay, that sounds dangerous."
"And you want us to play this game?" Moon asked mildly, still smiling as if asking about the weather.
Felix's eyes flashed again, but it was with something too fast for Ryoma to identify. He dropped the cigarette on the grey warehouse floor and crushed it, then stood up straight to survey them all. The handsome fifteen year old made an intimidating presence in front of the seven kids, and when he spoke his voice commanded attention. "Yes! Because some things are worth the risk. This game brings life to its very fullest! You will reach those other two Levels, think of how far your skill Levels have improved already! You could become the best, stand on top of the world, travel the world, buy your dream house, your dream island if you win enough times. Dare to play this game, and you can do anything in the world!"
Dare to play…
Ryoma remembered the silver card, and a shiver of anticipation and excitement coursed through him.
"We could get out of the orphanage…" Katara mumbled.
"We could buy our own house…" Kintarou followed.
"Become the strongest…" Duke rumbled.
"Have no need to hide…" Moon murmured to himself, his sad blue eyes were open.
"Be greater than my father ever was…" Kevin whispered.
"Have access to all the knowledge and advanced technology in the world…" Sam said softly.
Stand on top of the world, as Number One… Ryoma thought, the flame inside him burned more fiercely every second he thought about it.
Did they dare?
Yes they did.
EST
A/N
And that was the start.
Hmm… that was longer then I thought it would be…
Next chapter will be up next Friday: Nanjiro finds out!
Arigato guzaimasu!
– Mel XX