I don't own Prince of Tennis in any way or shape. Neither do I own the picture. Let's rumble!
"Minamoto."
There aren't many people who would deliberately oppose Sanada Genichirou; Emperor of the tennis courts, stoic and elitist perfectionist to the core—a man that values the traditional concepts of honor and resolve more than the whimsical, teenage needs of his age-matched classmates.
Yet, there are always exceptions to the rule.
He looms his full six feet over the desk in question. "Minamoto Masako."
At the mention of her name said girl does not so much as move an inch.
Renji and Seiichi, their occasional leeway he could understand. The three of them have always been close and between friends, joking and jesting is common. The jumpy behavior of the regulars from Rikkaidai's famous Tennis Club that he is a proud vice-captain of he could come to accept and understand as well—while they aren't as close, he has come to form firm ties with the boys even if he has to keep a tight leash on some. He needn't their bad behavior to reflect back negatively on him nor Yukimura.
He has learned to respect his elders and tries to be a model student, never failing in his duty to study well and he tries to keep his grades as best as he strives for. So long as neither his teacher nor fellow students are actively trying to hinder his progress he maintains a polite and obliging relationship to most while keeping his distance to the rascals slacking off. Stay in wrong company for too long and you will be dragged down before you know it.
Again, there are always exceptions to the rule. Minamoto Masako is his.
Feeling his patience run thin, he switches to the loud voice normally reserved for training purposes. He slams his fist into the desk that all heads turn. "Minamoto Masako, wake up this instant or there will be consequences to face!"
She startles from her sleep, "Present!", dark eyes blinking rapidly against the harsh light before she rubs her face awake. Black hair sticking out to all sides, her gaze eventually settles on him.
And the disappointed pout comes to her lips almost instantly. "Wha—it's just you, Sanada."
There aren't many people who would deliberately oppose him but to his immense misfortune there is one, and that one is enough to last him a lifetime.
A/N:
This plot bunny came to me and won't leave me alone. Sanada has such a rich inner voice that I couldn't resist. I have the very rough outlines already planned out. This will be a light-hearted tale, no longer than 500 words a chapter, and—I'm sorry, Sanada—updated completely based on my whims and when the muse hits me over the head particularly hard.
Reviews help to speed this process up most of the times, though. ;) Tell me whether you liked it or not! Other than that, we'll see each other again in the next chapter!
