This was the result of a fifteen-minute word challenge. The challenge word is stated at the end of the ficlet.

Discombobulated Rhythm (Prince of Tennis)

By Haruka (email: haruka at ymail dot com)

Kamio Akira whistled as he got ready for school. He had his homework done, his lunch made and packed, and even his breakfast dishes were washed. There was plenty of time to catch his bus – all he had to do was put on his MP3 player and he'd be ready to go. His rhythm was perfect today.

However, when he reached for the player in its usual spot, it wasn't there. Okay, don't panic, he thought, it must be in your jacket pocket.

But it wasn't. Nor was it on his desk, on the floor, under the bed, or anywhere in his room.

He was frantically checking under the kitchen table when his mother came in and gasped. "Akira, why are you still here? Your bus will arrive any minute!"

Akira made a run for it. The bus stop wasn't far – he could see it from the end of his driveway. He could also see the bus driving away without him.

Damn it, he thought, and ran for his bike. He'd probably be late now, but not by more than a few minutes.

It was amazing how loud and annoying the noises of the city were without his music to drown it out and settle his soul. Cars honking, people shouting, a chain snapping – WHAT?!

Akira realized what happened a half-beat too late and was thrown over the handlebars of his bike. He banged his shoulder and winced, grateful that it wasn't his tennis arm.

Tennis! He gasped in horror. He'd rushed off so fast that he'd forgotten his tennis gear! He'd also forgotten his book bag with his homework and his lunch!

And now the bike chain was broken.

It was a long jog to school, especially dragging a bike that didn't want to move. He was almost half an hour late to his first class. His rhythm was completely thrown off.

"What happened?" Ibu Shinji asked in a whisper after Akira had been scolded by the teacher.

"Everything," he replied wearily.

"By the way, here's your MP3 player." Shinji passed it to him under the desk. "You left it in my room last night." He began murmuring to himself under his breath. "I guess I should be flattered that you would be so distracted by me that you'd lose track of your most precious possession. It's really quite amazing …."

Akira wasn't listening anymore. He pocketed the player, blushing. As Shinji just reminded him, there was rhythm to be found in other aspects of life besides music.

(Word challenge – Discombobulated)

(2005)

Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi.

This fic is not to be re-posted.