Prelude: Rain
It all started with the rain. It hadn't been anything before that. A pat on the back after a particularly good match. A smile (a fake one, of course) when he said something unusually amusing.
Maybe even a nod in the hallway. Maybe.
But the rain, Ryoma soon realized, had a way of changing things. Of destroying things, and at the same time, of bringing things to life.
After that match in the rain, something changed. Everything changed.
After that day, there was only one person in the entire world who mattered when Ryoma stepped off that court.
And Ryoma hated himself for it. It didn't matter that before that day, Ryoma hadn't even liked Fuji. It didn't matter that the younger boy found that ever present smile infuriating.
And it didn't matter that Ryoma still held Tezuka above him. It didn't matter that when they were on that court, Fuji might as well have been invisible.
None of it mattered. Because the rain changed everything.
Ryoma remembered every detail. Every sound of Fuji's sneakers sliding across the slick court, every gleam in those piercing crystal orbs, every strand of honey brown hair that plastered itself to his opponent's smooth, flawless porcelain forehead.
Ryoma remembered that day in the rain. And he remembered that the way he saw Fuji after that day had nothing to do with tennis.
And for Echizen Ryoma, it was always about the tennis. Always. At least, on the first layer.
But beneath the silence, there was something else. There was the truth.
And the truth was Echizen Ryoma was hopelessly ensnared by Fuji Syusuke.