Chapter One
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.
Sakuya quietly entered her classroom on the first day at Tokyo University. She was early; nobody had arrived yet. Glad for the silence, she slipped into one of the seats in her first class, Classics of Japan.
Reveling in the quiet, Sakuya quickly set up her desk, putting her books on it. Noticing that it would be a while before anyone else arrived judging by the clock, she grabbed copy of Vogue magazine out to read. She could not do so at home because her parent disapproved of it and would surely have a severe punishment for her if they caught their daughter reading such "trash."
Poring over the pages of models in stunning clothes, Sakuya wistfully gazed at the beautiful clothing, wishing she could have a chance to design something like them. But, she had responsibilities, and being a fashion designed was not one of them.
Suddenly, the bell rang. Alarmed, Sakuya stuffed the magazine to the bottom of her black leather book bag, as if it was a piece of filth that she never wanted to see again. Straightening her hair and smoothing out her clothing, she sat up primly in her chair, looking the model of a young lady.
Soon, other people began arriving in steady trickles of scholars. Sakuya noted with disdain the way they were dressed. Everyone was wearing baggy and unflattering to their body clothing. For example, first came a gang of girls. While in high school, they would be chatting loudly, raucously, they were conversing in low tones no doubt some scientific equations and math formulas. They were all wearing glasses and baggy dull clothing that was mismatched. They didn't even notice Sakuya sitting there, erect and straight. And silent.
Next came a large flock of boys. They were dressed no better than the girls and some looked like they hadn't taken a shower in ages.
Finally, a young man stepped into class. Sakuya raised an eyebrow slightly when she saw him.
Unlike all the other people, he was actually dressed quite well. He had on a clean blue plaid shirt with a collar and buttons down the front. The sleeves were short since it was still warm, but not short, short. For his pants, he was wearing a pair of white shorts that fell almost to his knees. Honey-brown hair fell almost down to his shoulder and what stood out most about this boy was that his eyes were closed in what looked like an eternally cheerful smile.
As soon as he stepped into the classroom, Fuji saw that he was probably the last on or one of the last ones there. The majority of the seats had been filled up and not really anyone was talking with each other, all being immersed in dictionary thick books or if they were talking with each other, they were discussing scientific or things of that sort. Looking around for a seat, Fuji saw that the only seat that was available was one next to the quiet girl. Walking over, he politely requested, "May I sit here?"
Sakuya looked up at the face smiling down at her, slightly surprised. "Please," she quietly murmured as she had been taught, gesturing at the seat. Even if she was in school, she must always be polite and lady-like.
Smiling all the while, Fuji sat down next to the girl. In many ways, she reminded him already of Tezuka. They were both quiet, reserved, and seemed to be stoic people, though in this girl's case, emotionless was a better word. Fuji briefly wondered if she two of them were related, but then, the teacher arrived, the class bowed to him, and the first day of school began.