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December 24, 2008


Ryoma sighed. Strange as it might seem, she could pass off as a really pretty boy when she was really a girl. It was interesting yet, saddening, to see how everyone believed their own ideas even though she had proved them wrong already.

They thought they couldn't be beaten by a girl. Check.

They thought they would never let a girl on the boys' team. Check.

They thought that no female could truly understand their drive for tennis. Check

She had defied all of these and they still hadn't realized it. She stared at herself in the mirror. Long, green-black hair tumbled past her shoulders to mid-back while wide, angled, golden cat-eyes stared at the reflection from under thin eyebrows. High cheekbones and a full mouth completed the ethereal look of beauty of the teenager not quite filled out into adulthood.

Expressionless, Ryoma put on the short haired wig made from her own green-black hair. Her chest was bound flat. Her soft face morphed into one of arrogance and boyishness. Her façade had officially started.

"Ryoma-chan? You need to hurry or you'll be late!"

"Hai, Okaa-san."

Ryoma took one last look at herself in the mirror. The boy who looked back at her smirked. He didn't like her. She knew that. But what could she do? He was part of her. Tentatively, she reached out to touch him. Loftily, he returned the favour. But the moment their fingertips touched, something snapped; something broke; something shattered; and it wasn't just the mirror…


Tezuka sighed as he looked at the freshman. The kid had come in later than usual, missing almost all of practice. But the strange thing was the bandage wrapped around his right hand. Everyone had looked a little confused at what might have happened but the freshman wouldn't answer. He would turn away and walk off, ignoring the questions completely.

But Ryuuzaki-sensei wanted an actual explanation.

"Echizen!" he called

The boy turned to glare at him. His hat cast the shadow over those bright eyes, making them glow from the shadows. Echizen sighed and walked over to Tezuka. He plopped himself on the bench next to the captain and stared off.

"What is it, Buchou?" the voice sounded a little odd, almost as if it was off balance ever so slightly.

"Ryuuzaki-sensei wants an actual explanation for why you were late this morning." Tezuka replied.

"…the mirror in my bathroom shattered. I was cleaning it up and cut myself a couple of times. That's all." Echizen stated in the odd voice.

"How did your mirror shatter?" Tezuka asked, startled at the truth of the boy's statement.

Echizen stood up and started to walk around the captain to the gate. He opened the gate and paused; he looked up at the sky then straight forward.

"I punched it."


Fuji cornered Tezuka right after practice in the locker rooms. Echizen was the only one who had already left, leaving the rest of the regulars to stare after him in confusion and Tezuka to watch him in concern.

"Tezuka, what did Echizen say was the reason why his hand was hurt?" Fuji asked with his eyes open.

Tezuka stared at him for a moment before he answered. "He said that his bathroom mirror shattered and that he cut himself picking up the pieces. But when I asked how it shattered, he said that he punched it."

The regulars stared at the captain before looking at each other.

"Do you think he's lying?" Taka asked.

Momo shook his head. "If the gaki was lying it would be so outlandish that it wouldn't even be funny."

Tezuka also shook his head. "He wasn't lying. I don't know if anyone else noticed but Echizen's voice was off. He was completely serious when he answered my questions, but it was almost like his internal balance was off."

Fuji sighed. He had noticed that Echizen seemed different. He looked at Tezuka and noticed that the young captain had come to the same conclusion.

Something was wrong with the rookie.


Ryoma glared at the boy in the new mirror.

The boy glared back.

Ryoma smirked.

The boy glowered.

Ryoma held up the shard of mirror she had salvaged from the shattered one that morning. It was only about four inches long and in the shape of a knife with a small handle. The difference was instead of the edge being the flat thickness of the mirror; it was tapered to a keen edge along the curved knife-edge. The point glinted with a malicious bloodlust. The boy watched in horror as Ryoma lifted her right arm and he lifted his left. Gently, almost like a caress, she brought the point dancing down her arm. The edge dug into the skin. A red line swelled beneath the glass knife as blood slowly seeped out of the deep cut.

Ryoma felt warmth flood her body. It felt good to cut away all her problems with shards of herself. The boy silently howled on the other side of the glass. She placed her new friend on the countertop and smirked at the boy glaring angrily at her through the mirror and holding his arm. She closed her eyes and grabbed the wig.

"Goodbye for today."

Ryoma ripped off the wig and looked in the mirror. A sad, confused, lonely girl stood on the other side of the mirror now. The only difference was: she didn't understand how she got the cut on her left arm.

Ryoma broke down into tears before crawling to her bed to cry herself to sleep.


Ah! What will happen next? find out in the next installment on January 28, 2009!

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