Title: Green and Gold
Summary: Australia loves Echizen Ryoma.
Note: This was written for fun. It is not, in any way, a factual representation of the mentioned countries. So, open mind yeah?
If tennis was patriotic, then Ryoma would be a traitor.
It wasn't like Ryoma waved around a flag that wasn't American, or that he openly disdained the country he played for or anything of the like; it was entirely unintentional.
Ryoma had many fans that loved/obsessed/fawned over him. It was either because of how well he played the game, or how well he played others in the game, or because he was so young and already one of the number one players in the world, or that he was incredibly attractive, with his large eyes and his scraggly hair and his petite stature and his prickly exterior and unresponsive nature and—
Put simply, the world of tennis loved Ryoma—fans loved tennis because of him.
It could be said that the Australians loved Ryoma more. It was a gross generalization, but by the time the Australian Open rolled by, there would be an increase in familiar white caps (though with the R instead of the trademarked F – Ryoma had his own brand though he never wore anything from it) and a surge of posters and flags (all surprisingly in green and gold) and god knows what else flocking around the courts he was scheduled to play.
If someone was asked why they loved Ryoma so much more than their own national players, they'd list off the typical, previously-mentioned characteristics. It was the main reason, yes, but none would point out the other obvious reason that had so many absolutely enamored with him. It was never mentioned, but everyone knew it was contributed to the fact that his hair had a hint of green, and that his eyes were gold. It wasn't that they were shallow (because Ryoma was a well-loved tennis player before close examination of his hair and his eyes), rather, such a coincidence only fanned the country's enthusiasm.
America was well aware of Australia's gusto to their star player. Admittedly, the crowds at the US Open weren't as enthusiastic with him as the Australian Open crowd, though only by a small margin. It wouldn't do for them to force Ryoma to dye his hair red or get blue contacts. (Though there had been rumors of a fanatic planning to slip into his room one night and bleach his hair red, but such claims were unfounded.)
Not so unexpectedly, most of the gifts Ryoma received happened to come in such color combinations. It was annoying, and Ryoma never hesitated to throw out the gifts without even a second glance. Ryoma didn't like green or yellow, he liked white and red and blue.
Much to his irritation, his manager had become overbearing with his appearance, harping day in and day out about how he should change his usual tennis clothes. Fila had eagerly taken it upon themselves to design him clothes that would complement his looks. So far it had been narrowed down to the pure white ensemble with the deep green streaks and sparks of golden thread. It was stylish, more so than what other players wore. According to his manager, it would highlight his hair and make his eyes appear less tawny.
Ryoma merely looked at her as if she was an idiot (nothing new, since he gave her that look every time he had to talk with her) to which she clicked her tongue at him, proclaiming the importance of public self-image and good appearances and—
She was tuned out after that. Ryoma didn't understand, because tennis was tennis and not a fashion parade. His manager returned his look. He merely brushed it off and stubbornly continued to wear his white clothes with the same white hat (though a newer one) that had the familiar red trademark letter with the blue square outline.
America at least, still rubs that in Australia's face. (Even though Australia's national flag is the same color, as was Chile's, Costa Rica's, Cuba's, Czech Republic's, Iceland's, Liberia's, Netherlands's, New Zealand's, North Korea's, South Korea's, Thailand's, United Kingdom's, etc.)
What America didn't know was that Ryoma only liked those colors because of Seigaku. He didn't choose to play for America because of the white and red and blue, or even his love for the country. It was only because there had been issues with his Visa and citizenship and no way in hell was he going to sing the National Anthem to anyone, thanks.
Tezuka found the situation ironic, even more so that Ryoma showed no outward reaction to the stir up that followed him around in the form of paparazzi and crazy fans.
Tezuka did understand it, this fixation for color. It was Ryoma's fond love for their old school that had him leaning towards the white and red and blue, unaware or otherwise. Tezuka himself always signed his name in a thick blue marker on the Japanese flag should anyone want his autograph. Ryoma unfortunately, was always prompted by his manager to sign in green, was always given green markers by his fans to sign on the large fuzzy yellow tennis balls.
Ryoma wasn't completely blind – he'd have to be stupid to not notice the superficial drama concerning colors of all things. But the fact that the black marker he kept in his bag for signing purpose always disappeared (his manager) brought about a change that only intensified the rivalry between America and Australia, proclaimed buddies in times of nationalism and treaties.
But at the end of the day, there was only so much green and yellow one person could take.
Really, Ryoma swore he had nothing to do with the sudden influx of white tennis balls.