Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, nor am I making any profit off of writing this.
Their new freshman regular was so cute. The first time Fuji saw him, he wanted to tease him; he wanted to play with him and see what reactions he could provoke.
"Play with me, Echizen?"
He got a smirk. "Sure, Fuji-senpai. Show me your Triple Counters."
What a cocky brat.
"Echizen, do you want me to drink that for you?" he asked, motioning to a glass of Inui's juice.
Their freshman just closed his eyes and drank it down in one gulp.
His face acquired a greenish tinge and he swayed, but Ryoma still remained standing.
Impressive. But would it kill him to accept some help just once?
"Let me pay for that, Momo."
The two younger regulars looked up sharply, one face with shock and gratitude while the other was bored, impassive.
He counted out the money from his wallet, paying for both Ryoma's and Momoshiro's burgers. Ryoma snorted, sauntering out without even one backwards look.
"Oi, Echizen! Wait up…" the rookie prodigy didn't even pause. "Sorry, Fuji-senpai, you know how he gets…"
He did know.
"Aren't you going to thank me, Ryoma-kun?" His legs were longer; unless Ryoma ran, Fuji could catch up easily.
He got a handful of money – the exact amount that Ryoma's food had cost – shoved into his hand and an eyeful of the back of Ryoma's jacket.
What a rude brat.
"Help me with my English homework?"
"No."
Well, he had already known that Ryoma was nothing like Horio. Still, it was far too abrupt a reply.
"Please?"
"No."
"I can pay you."
"How about a new tennis racket, some new shoes, grip tape, and food for Karupin?"
Fuji gave up. He didn't have a job to pay for it, anyway.
"You'll never catch up to him, you know," Fuji whispered, noticing Ryoma staring, entranced, at Tezuka's swing.
As always.
"Not until I beat you, you mean. And I will, Fuji-senpai." No sense of hurt or doubt. As if he knew such a thing for sure.
Infuriating.
"You'll lose."
Ryoma smiled, eyes blazing gold as he watched Sanada.
"I'll just have to prove you wrong, then, Fuji-senpai."
Absolutely infuriating.
He aims a ball at Ryoma's knee – not hard enough to do lasting damage, but enough to sting.
"Fuji!" Tezuka admonishes, because he's far too good for that to be an accident.
Ryoma smirks, turning his leg to examine the damage. "Let's continue."
"Echizen!" Ryoma doesn't listen to Oishi, though. Why would he?
Doesn't anything faze the brat?
"She came to my house," Fuji reports, petting Karupin, who's curled up on his lap. "I didn't know you were looking for her, Ryoma-kun."
Ryoma holds out his arms and Karupin takes her time in getting up and going to her master.
It doesn't matter. He thought he'd thrown a stone in and seen a ripple form at last.
"You can't play like this, can you?" Fuji murmurs, gripping Ryoma's broken left arm with a bit too much force.
"It's a good thing that I'm ambidextrous, then," Ryoma wrenches his arm out of Fuji's grasp.
Determination and defiance in those eyes.
It's okay. Fuji can always keep trying.