Um, this is my first PoT fanfiction, so no wonder if it sucks. I just finished watching the PoT episodes, and haven't watched the OVAs and the second movie yet, but I'm so sad it ended so abruptly so I wrote this.
Echizen Ryoma. That was the name buzzing around Japan, instigating an overwhelming wave of awe and wonder which undulated throughout the world. The tennis prodigy who had conquered the prestigious US Open at the age of twelve, the one who had remained undefeated in all his official matches.
As remarkable as he indubitably was, he was still, after all, the 'chibi' of the Seishun Gakuen tennis club. It was hard to think of him as otherwise, since the Seigaku regulars had all doted on him ever since he arrived at Seigaku with those humongous adorable golden eyes and such tousle-able aquamarine-ish black hair. Well, perhaps with the exception of the team's perpetually aloof captain, Tezuka Kunimitsu, who hardly ever expressed anything more than a dim smile. But even he could not deny a feeling of fondness for that cocky kid who he had intended for to become the next pillar of support for Seigaku.
Which was why an air of faint despondency hung in the tennis court as the Seigaku regulars did their usual warm-ups and practices. The day before, they had watched the epic battle between their ochibi and the world's number one seed, Lleyton Hewitt on television. Much to their delight, the former had prevailed. Unquestionably, they were exuberant, but they could not help feeling rather detached from the glamorous 12-year-old standing majestically in the tennis court despite his regrettably short height. He seemed so unreachable, so distant to them…
And they were wondering whether after his venerable success he was ever going to return to Seigaku. And if he did, how was they supposed to treat him? Still rumpled with him like they did once upon a time? Or regard the tennis no oujisama with a deferential courtesy?
The one who was most obviously distressed with the conflict was none other than Momoshiro Takeshi, dubbed Momo by his seniors and Momo-senpai by his juniors – including Ryoma. It was a well-known fact that he was extremely affectionate of the current world number one tennis player.
"Oi, Momoshiro! Is this the best you can do? Looks like your dunk smashes are overrated." Kaidoh Kaoru, Momo's permanent rival, taunted from the other side of the net.
Momo wiped the sweat from his forehead and panted. "Speak for yourself, viper! I haven't seen you use your Boomerang Snake yet!"
"Nan desu te?" Kaidoh hissed. "Are you looking for a fight?"
"Bring it on!" Momo roared, a fist striking into the air as he marched menacingly towards the net. Kaidoh mimicked his actions.
"Oi, Kaidoh, Momo, break it up!" vice-captain Oishi Shuichiroh exhorted.
"Stay out of this!" the both of them yelled.
"Both of you, a hundred laps around the court!" a commanding voice broke in. The glanced at the source of voice. Captain Tezuka stood regally at the entrance of the tennis court, bespectacled knife-keen eyes flashing dauntingly at the both of them and arms crossed at his chest. The both of them gritted their teeth, but nevertheless, obeyed. Who could defy Tezuka anyway?
"Hai!" they answered and resumed their competitive spirits in racing around the court, elbowing each other at every available opportunity.
"Everyone else, pick up the pace! Don't let your guard down!" Tezuka instructed. The tennis club members riveted their attentions back to their activities immediately. Such was the force of Tezuka Kinimitsu, his tenor, though not exceptionally strident, was outstandingly imperial, and his razor-sharp brown eyes could cut through their facades with a glance. Even Ryoma did not dare to flout him, and obedience was never one of his strong attributes.
"Tezuka, isn't that a bit harsh?" Oishi asked with a frown.
"Idling around before the nationals is unacceptable," Tezuka merely said. Oishi sighed. So even his standoffish classmate was bothered. Albeit no one said anything, it was apparent that everyone was wondering the same thing.
Was Ryoma ever coming back?
"He's troubled, eh?" Fuji Syusuke said as he ambled up to Oishi, the omnipresent smile on his face.
Brows furrowed together. "A-Ahh… Even Tezuka…"
Fuji chuckled. "He's so important to us."
"Huh? You mean Tezuka? Mochiron, he's our buchou!"
"No, I mean Echizen," Fuji answered.
His frown deepened. Typical of Fuji to be so straightforward in bringing up the name which they had all avoided to utter out loud.
"Has anyone contacted him yet?" Oishi suddenly mentioned. "I tried congratulating him through the phone, but I couldn't get through every time."
"You too, Oishi?" Kikumaru Eiji, the counterpart of Seigaku's Golden Pair, interrupted. "What's ochibi doing, not picking up our calls? Muo… It's like he's a stranger to us already."
That struck a nerve in all the regulars. They all jerked their heads towards Eiji in shock. Evidently, everyone was concerned – and sad – that there was just the possibility that Ryoma considered them to be another paltry stepping stone in his route to triumph.
"Nani?" Eiji piped innocently. "Did I say something wrong?"
Oishi shook his head dejectedly. "No, in fact, you could be right…"
Silence fell upon them as they gradually returned to their previous activities. That was, until a frantic voice rented the air.
"Senpai-tachi! Senpai-tachi! I-I've got big news!" a freshman sprinted up to the tennis court and waved a magazine in his hand madly.
"H-Horio! What is it?" Oishi enquired, taken aback.
"R-Re-Read this!" Horio Satoshi wheezed. Oishi took the magazine form his hand and flipped it open. A 12-year-old boy with glossy dark hair and arrogant amber depths stared back.
"E-Echizen!" he exclaimed and quickly scanned through the interview. Emerald depths widened in shock.
"What is it, Oishi?" Eiji asked and took the magazine from his stone-stiff hand. He perused it rapidly.
"It's an interview of ochibi!" he cried out. "Let's see. What's your plan for the future? My plan for the future is…"
He dropped the magazine in disbelief, blue eyes wide full of stun.
"…is to stay here in America and improve my skills. There is nothing left for me in Nihon…" he muttered.
"Echizen…" Momoshiro gasped. "H-He's not coming back? Ano gaki…"
A freshman girl broke into tears at one end of the court. "Ryoma-sama! How can you say that?"
"T-Tomoe-chan…" Ryuzaki Sakuno murmured, endeavouring to placate the crying girl, but it was plain that she was no less distressed herself, the way her huge brown eyes glimmered with tears.
"NNNOOO!!!! THAT CAN'T BE HAPPENING! ECHIZEN!" Kawamura Takashi bellowed, swinging his tennis racket hazardously in the air.
"I don't believe this. That heartless kid!" Kaidoh sneered.
"Minna! Get back to your positions!" Tezuka demanded, his voice cutting cleanly through the pandemonium of murmurs rising in the tennis court. Everyone stiffened and quietened instantly. Minutes went by, and not a smile could be seen on everyone's faces.
"Mada mada da ne."
It was a soft voice, yet it was so familiar that everyone reacted rapidly. Sure enough, the owner of the voice belonged to none other than Echizen Ryoma, the customary baseball cap shielding his eyes from view while his Seigaku regular's jacket flapped in the wind, his left hand tapping a tennis ball on the side of his racket genteelly.
"Ryoma-kun!" Sakuno gasped. Before anyone could respond, she dashed into his lap and flung her arms around his neck. "You're back!"
A second later, wolf-whistles could be heard, and the both of them sprang apart with visible scarlet hues on their cheeks.
However, instead of pleased expressions on every regular's visages, glowers could be seen sent in his way.
"What are you doing here, Echizen? Didn't you say you're not coming back?" Momo glared.
Ryoma raised an askance eyebrow. "Where did you hear that from?"
"This!" Takashi yelled, brandishing the magazine up to Ryoma while his other hand still welded the tennis racket menacingly.
"I… I didn't say anything during that interview… Kevin did all the talking…"
At his words, everyone's pupils dilated in amazement. Slowly, one by one, they began clapping.
"Welcome back, Echizen!" a second-year shouted, followed by a chorus of 'welcome back's by the others. Momo's glare wavered, slumped and curved into an animated grin, tears pouring comically down his countenance.
"I knew you'll come back!" he hollered and enveloped the whole small figure of Ryoma in his arms, wiping his tears away in embarrassment.
Fuji laughed quietly. "Welcome back, Echizen. It's not the same without you here."
"Yeah, welcome back!" Oishi said, patting Ryoma fondly on the back.
"Ochibi! Welcome back!" Eiji squealed and latched himself on Ryoma, much to the latter's displeasure.
"Let me go," he struggled to no avail.
"Come on, ochibi! It's been ages since I last squeezed you."
The two struggled some more when a voice interjected in.
"Echizen."
Eiji let go of Ryoma instinctively, and the crowd dispersed to two sides, revealing an imposing stature standing in the middle.
"Buchou…" Ryoma said.
Tezuka sauntered up to him and proffered a hand.
"Welcome back, Echizen."
Ryoma took his hand hesitantly, golden hues broad with queries.
"Thanks. I did my best in the US Open, buchou!"
Tezuka's mouth tugged into something almost akin to a grin.
"You did well," he commended apathetically. Ryoma remained hushed, sensing that there was something more his captain wanted to say. He was right.
"Echizen?"
"Yes, buchou?"
Tezuka's stern eyes stared fixedly at Ryoma.
"Become Seigaku's pillar of support."
Ryoma observed his stoic captain thoughtfully, before letting his cool composure slip into an enthusiastic smirk.
"Hai, buchou!"
Yeah, that's pretty pointless, but I haven't gotten over how abruptly PoT ended. *sob sob*