Disclaimer: I don't Prince of Tennis or any of its characters.

Warning: some dark themes, YukiRyo, fem!Ryo, Fuji Syuusuke, maybe spoilers, Fuji!Nanjirō, aaand that's it. If there's more I'll just say it later.


Chapter Two


Part One: The Fuji Family


"Kind humans scare me… Their kind words… Their gentle hands… They'll snatch it back tomorrow."

(Somewhat Adapted) From Super Lovers, Vol. 1, Chap. 3


Ryoma wasn't sure about what she wanted to do.

Miss Evangeline was being nice as always, reassuring her that Japan would be great – but the five-year-old girl missed home. Even if home was bitter.

It was January, but Tokyo wasn't cold like New York was. In fact, there was a nice breeze coming from the open car's window. The tiny girl blinked, observing the different houses and buildings.

"Are you feeling anxious, Ryo?"

There was an auburn-haired woman sitting beside her in the rented car. She was pretty as any red-haired person appeared to be, especially with her azure eyes.

Ryoma was only grateful that Miss Evangeline had called her Ryo.

"Yes," she said in a quiet whisper.

Ryoma Black was, after all, a very quiet child. She was smaller than any five-year-old should be and, most of the time, spoke too low to be heard. She had become used to fading to the background, because that was what she was supposed to do.

Papa said so.

Evangeline Hedge felt her eyes softening at the image of a small child sitting almost as if she didn't want to be found. She had found Ryoma four months ago, shivering in the pouring rain with bruises all over her body. The child hadn't been crying and most people couldn't see her sitting in the dark alley. New York was a city too busy for a silent and hurt child.

The auburn-haired woman sighed as Ryoma turned her head to the window to look outside. She had taken the child to her apartment and took care of her wounds. There had been tears rolling down the child's cheeks, but she hadn't sobbed. Not loudly. Being loud was the same as shouting that she existed.

And Ryoma said that her Papa told her that existing wasn't acceptable – not when Ryoma's mother had died instead of herself.

"I'm sure they'll love you, Ryo," Evangeline assured the child beside her once again. She wanted to pat the green-tinted hair, but refrained from doing so. The last time she tried to, Ryoma had screamed for hours.

"Bad Ryo," the small girl murmured in disagreement.

Evangeline shook her head, trying to pass her message with all her might, "That's wrong, Ryo. You're a good girl, remember? I told you before."

Golden eyes stared up at the azure-eyed woman.

"Good Ryo?"

Evangeline nodded, "That's right. Good Ryo."

Evangeline Hedge certainly could remember the bruises all over the child's body four months before.


Ryoma was used to loneliness.

No child in her neighborhood wanted to be her friend and Papa never talked to her. He shouted a lot, but never talked. Her only toy was a tennis ball that Papa had tossed at her once and never snatched it back. Ryoma thought it was a nice gesture of him, because she had never had a toy before.

Papa loved her. He had said so – even if it had been through a world of pain.

Ryoma believe him, since she didn't have anyone else to rely on. She loved Papa too and, now, missed him. It had been months since she last saw his face. She even missed his scent, which she had always hated. It stank.

"Miss Evangeline," she said, trying not to mumble. Miss Evangeline said that if she spoke too low people wouldn't hear her. Ryoma knew that.

The woman smiled at her, "Yes?"

"Why does my family live in Japan?" Ryoma wasn't used to asking questions. Papa didn't allow them, but Miss Evangeline said it was okay to ask when in doubt.

The auburn-haired woman answered in a calm voice, softly patting her hand – the only part of Ryoma's body that she allowed to be patted.

"Your new Daddy lives here and was anxious to meet you as much as you are now. You're going to have a mother and siblings," the woman said in a cheerful voice. "Isn't it nice?"

Ryoma shook her head, because she didn't know what to say.

"Papa said that Ryo can't have friends, because Ryo is bad."

Evangeline continued to smile, though she felt as if she could kill someone. She closed her eyes and saw a bruised Ryoma under her eyelids. The woman really felt as if she could kill someone.

"But Ryo isn't bad, remember? Ryo is a good girl and your new family is going to love you."

"Why?"

Evangeline had never known that one could feel murderous and sad at the same time. This world was so messed up. This girl's father was so messed up. He had broken his own kid and probably was well aware of that.

The auburn-haired woman was a social worker and had dealt with different types of children during her career. Ryoma wasn't a new case, exactly. Evangeline had seen children like her: broken, shy, hidden from the world by neglectful parents. She had saved lots of kids and gave them new families. But Ryoma's situation was still the one that touched her the most.

After taking Ryoma out of the streets, she had her team search for the child's home. Results showed that the apartment she lived in was empty of human beings and reeked of alcohol and smoke. Evangeline wasn't surprised. Many parents let their children on the streets when they decided to move out of their house or disappear.

The problem was that DNA tests showed something different from the other cases of abuse. They didn't know who Ryoma's male parent was as she had never told them his name – but the results said that he wasn't her biological father. Why would a man adopt a child and abuse her?

Evangeline had asked the green-haired girl and her only response was that Papa had always been there, while Mama had not. The latter had died and the former had made his 'own' daughter believe that she shouldn't be loved.

"Because you're a lovely child, Ryo," Evangeline replied with an honest tone.

Ryoma said nothing more, only observing Tokyo with confused eyes. She missed Papa, but wouldn't tell Miss Evangeline that, because the woman hated when she talked about him. Sometimes, Ryoma despised him too – and felt bad for it.


The house where Ryoma was supposed to live now was big – much bigger than her old apartment in New York. The walls were painted of a crème color and the windows were white. There were flower-beds in the garden and a huge space between the gate and the house itself. It was a nice neighborhood.

Ryoma was sure that it was the wrong house.

"Why are we here?" She asked. Maybe Miss Evangeline had acquaintances in Japan. That's how they had discovered her new Daddy's family anyway.

The social worker smiled down at the child, getting out of the car and thanking the driver.

"Your new family lives here. It looks nice, doesn't it?"

Ryoma nodded, holding her small bag. Miss Evangeline had bought clothes for her and searched for a new family – she was grateful for the former action, but confused by the latter. Ryoma didn't know why she needed a new family exactly. Papa loved her, he had said so.

The doorbell rang and a teenager answered the door. Ryoma thought she was beautiful with her light brown hair and dark blue eyes. The girl smiled kindly.

"How may I help you?" She asked, but Ryoma understood none of it. Miss Evangeline said that in Japan everybody talked in Japanese, though had never commented about the weirdness of the language.

Miss Evangeline answered in heavy-accented Japanese, "Hello. My name is Hedge Evangeline and I'm the social worker that contacted Fuji Nanjirō and Fuji Yoshiko. May I speak with them?"

The girl blinked.

"Mom and Dad were contacted by a social worker?" She wondered out loud before apologizing for her rudeness. Evangeline waved it off. "Well, you're welcome to enter."

"Excuse me," Evangeline said before entering. She turned to Ryoma, who was hiding behind her leg and told her in English, "You need to take your shoes off before entering a house in Japan, okay, Ryo?"

Ryoma only nodded, because she didn't want to talk in front of a stranger. Although she didn't know at the time, the brunette understood what Miss Evangeline said, because she herself had been born in America, and had lived there until she was almost eight years old.

"Mom, Dad!" The girl called. "There's a woman called Evangeline Hedge here and she wants to talk to you!"

A beautiful woman appeared in the hall and looked surprised, "Hegde-san? I thought you'd come only next week."

"Things turned out okay faster than expected," the auburn-haired woman explained. Ryoma observed in silence the other person in the hall. She was an adult version of the teenager girl.

"Well, feel welcome," the brunette said. "Come to the living room, we can talk there."

There was a tanned, brown-haired man sitting on the sofa when they arrived at the living room. His eyes were curiously golden – like Ryoma's. He was grinning lazily and teasing a preteen boy that looked like him. Actually, his green-tinted eyes made Ryoma really curious, because it was like her own short locks.

"Fuji-san," Evangeline bowed briefly. "My name is Hedge Evangeline."

The boy stopped shouting back at the man and both of them observed as Evagenline and Ryoma entered the room. There was another pair of boys sitting in front of the television – which was turned off. Both looked like their mother, with light brown hair and light eyes (though one had them closed).

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Nanjirō said somewhat absentmindedly, trying to look at the child behind Evangeline's legs. She was way smaller than his youngest son, Yuuta.

Ryoma trembled slightly as Miss Evangeline stepped sideways to allow her to be seen.

"This is Black Ryo…" But before the auburn-haired could finish her phrase, Ryoma grabbed her wrist while standing on tip toes.

"Ryo," she murmured softly. She couldn't understand Japanese, but could understand her own name.

Evangeline patted the girl's hand, almost forgetting and touching her little head. It would be bad if Ryoma started screaming and kicking now.

"Oh, yes. This is Ryo," she introduced the small girl.

Ryoma wanted the ground to swallow her as six pairs of eyes observed her. The tiny girl knew that she wasn't pretty. Her hair was too short and untamed and its color wasn't normal – though the preteen boy had the exact color as her. Her eyes were too big and golden, and her body was thin and frail.

The woman with light brown hair and blue eyes came closer, crouching down in front of her. Ryoma partially hid behind Miss Evangeline's legs.

"Hey there, little one," the woman said with a soft smile. Her voice was like chiming bells. Thankfully, she was talking in English. "My name is Yoshiko Fuji."

Ryoma looked at the offered hand and didn't take it. Except for Papa and Miss Evangeline, she didn't let anyone touch her – and even the latter had limitations. Humans sometimes scared her - especially the kind ones.

"I will be your mother, is that okay for you?"

Ryoma was too nervous to notice the looks of surprise on the other kids' faces.

The brown-haired man came closer too, but didn't offer his hand in greeting. He gave her a smile, "And I'm Nanjirō Fuji."

Said man wanted to say many things. He wanted to ask why she was so small. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, even though he had never seen the child before. And he wanted to understand why she was so afraid of them.

"Yumiko, why don't you and your brothers show the house to your new sister?" Yoshiko suggested and the oldest child took the hint.

"C'mon tykes," she said to her kid brothers. Ryoga huffed as he was in this age that he hated to be called kid, and Yuuta simply followed her more than happy to comply. Syuusuke went to where Ryoma was and took her hand, even though the small girl was trembling as he did so.

Evangeline was really surprised that Ryoma didn't start screaming right then, but followed silently, apparently not minding the older boy's hand around hers. How unusual.

She turned to the new parents.

"You must have some questions to ask and I have some comments I'd like to make," she said, aware that they were paying close attention to her words. "We'd better sit – it might take a long time to explain things."


Ryoma was nervous, but the taller boy walking beside her was smiling with no care in the world. He was the prettiest of the siblings – as weird as it sounds. His features were softer than the other boy with equally light brown hair and his eyes were sharper than the dark-green-haired preteen. He was as thin as his sister and walked as gracefully as she.

"I'm Ryoga Fuji, the oldest and most intelligent of the siblings" the oldest boy introduced himself, pointing a thumb to his own chest.

The girl snorted, which Ryoma didn't expect of someone so feminine-looking, "Please, Ryoga, I am the oldest of the siblings – and you certainly aren't the smartest. I mean, Syuusuke is seven and more intelligent than you."

"Hey!"

The youngest boy laughed and the one with closed eyes, who was guiding Ryoma through the house, only smiled wider.

The only girl turned to Ryoma, saying in English, "My name is Yumiko Fuji, the older sister to these annoying pests… actually, only Ryoga is the pest. I'm sure you'll think so too."

Ryoma giggled – and widened her eyes in surprise. She couldn't remember the last time she giggled. Had she ever laughed? The tiny girl was used to silence.

"I'm Yuuta!" The youngest boy chirped. He was almost as tall as the closed-eye sibling, despite being younger. He was walking hand-in-hand with the teenager girl, Yumiko, apparently happy with arrangement.

"And I'm Syuusuke," the boy holding her hand said, finally opening his eyelids as he observed her. Ryoma was enchanted. If honey could speak, she was sure it would have that voice – if sapphires could be melted and become irises, they would be this boy's eyes.

The house was bigger than it appeared outside – not mentioning that it already looked enormous from the garden. It was three flights tall, full of rooms and good decoration. There was a games room, a library, a pool and even a tennis courts on the backyard. The bedrooms were on the last floor.

"Ne, ne, what's your name?" The youngest, Yuuta, asked. The girl walking beside his older brother was really small. Had Hedge-san said how old was she? She couldn't be any older than three or four.

"Baka," Ryoga taunted. He was a mature boy, as one could see. "Hegde-san told us she was Black Ryo."

Ryoma wondered why he had put her surname before her name, before remembering that Miss Evangeline had commented how in Japan it was this way that people introduced themselves.

"Oh," Yuuta made, before puffing out his cheeks and crossing his arms. "You don't have to be so mean."

Syuusuke laughed softly, "Yuuta is right, Onii-san."

For some reason Ryoma couldn't understand, Ryoga apologized to Yuuta as soon as he noticed his other younger brother's smile.

"Aaand that's it," Yumiko said once they ended showing the house, ending with their parents' bedroom, which was the last of the corridor.

The five of them stood in silence, not sure of what to do now. The oldest ones knew that the adults wanted to talk alone and couldn't go back to the living room before being called back.

Ryoma looked at her hand, which was being held by Syuusuke's bigger one. He hadn't asked her whether he could hold it or not – the boy had just taken it and guided her through the house. The golden-eyed wasn't sure why she wasn't trembling. The boy had been nothing but kind, of course, but that was the whole point.

Kind humans scared her.

Nobody had ever been truthfully kind to her – not before she met Miss Evangeline. Sometimes, Ryoma was scared of her too.

"When Hegde-san was introducing you," Syuusuke suddenly talked and his honey voice filled the corridor. "She was going to say the rest of your name and you stopped her."

He didn't say anything more, though his question was implicit in the statement. Why did you stop her? Ryoma didn't answer, because she wasn't sure of the why. She didn't know when her dislike for the name Ryoma had started either.

Papa had called her Ryoma all the time, but he used to pronounce it in a drawling voice, making the mah stand out from the rest. When she met Miss Evangeline and said woman had asked what her name was, Ryoma answered – and simply started crying. Ever since then, the small girl couldn't complete her own name. At least not without remembering Papa, his bottle of some drink called "beer", and his drawling mah.

Ryoma tried to shrug the question off, but only manage to look down and stay quiet. There were too many strangers with her and no Miss Evangeline or Papa. She tried tugging her hand back, but Syuusuke held it tight enough.

He wanted to hold her hand.

Ryoma had never met someone who willingly touched her. Nobody had ever been truthfully kind. The tiny girl somewhat relaxed, assuring herself that the older boy wanted – somebody wanted, somebody wanted, somebody wanted – to hold her hand.

And promptly bursted into tears.