Extreme Streets Tennis
Gaday!
Heheh, you know how I said this would be up on Friday…? Turns out I'm a liar H_H please don't kill me?
Cheers!
Beware!! This chapter is looooooong…
I don't own P.o.T. or anything else you recognise. This is fanfiction, and no copyright is intended. Language warning! This story is rated 'M', there are a lot of themes in this story, if they offend you… I'll set Fuji on you. With a glass of Inui juice…
And… SPOILERS WARNING! If you haven't seen or read the OVAs then you probably won't understand some of this.
Also I reserve the right of creativity! Which means that while a few things in this story might seem a little… impossible at times… imagination makes it possible. :D
Here's the next chapter.
EST
Ryoma blinked and pulled himself out of the thoughts of his life, of how everything had started, and how it had all ended by bringing him here. Now he was twelve and a half years old, and it was once again time for the school year to start – however – this year was different.
Ryoma gazed at the white mediocre buildings from the school gate, contemplating whether or not to go in. They had moved here for Rinko, her job had been transferred to Tokyo-Japan, and a friend of Nanjiro's had offered the use of his temple grounds. This was the result. Seigaku. Seishun Academy to be more precise, but Seigaku was its general name, and apparently a school renowned for its tennis ability.
Ryoma scowled at it. The grounds were almost empty as most students were already inside at their lockers, only a few were still dawdling about on the sparse grass. Several grey clouds hung resignedly above the school; mimicking Ryoma's mood. It had been three days since they'd moved to Japan, the longest period of time Ryoma had gone without his friends in over two years. Nanjiro kept going on about how 'a change would be good for him' how much fun he would have at his new school, all the new people to challenge in tennis, all the hot young Japanese chicks to check out, and maybe then Ryoma would finally stop moping.
Moping? Moping?! That baka fool, Ryoma jaw clenched, before he wrenched his thoughts away. His golden eyes focused back on the school in front of him – his striking features completely blank, emotionless and cold – apart from his eyes, which burned with an intense fierceness. People usually took his extreme gaze as insolence or impudence… which it was a lot of the time… Ryoma knew he unnerved people – with his cold exterior but burning eyes – his cousin had once commented that it was because they looked so much older then his small twelve-year-old body.
I am not that small! …Ryoma's size was a bit of a touchy subject with him…
To hide his eyes he always wore his favorite white cap – unfortunately Seigaku forced students to wear a uniform, and as such – he was unable to wear his hat apart from when he was playing tennis. Without it Ryoma knew he stuck out of the crowd easily. His fit, lithe body – no matter how small – was undeniably hot. At his old school he'd nearly always had a trail of giggling, hyper, cutesy – and annoying as hell – fangirls, as well as loud hanger-ons always trying to be his friend because he was popular, despite all his efforts to be anti-social. Ryoma's problem was that he practically oozed coolness, with his graceful movements, attractive face, a body that looked good in anything, and his great skill at sports – it all drew people in like a magnet.
The only people he really knew for sure as his friends were his old team. Right now he missed them more then ever. It was probably just nostalgia, and the fact that he had left on bad terms…
"I'm moving… back to Japan."
Kintarou had cried and had thrown himself on Ryoma, begging him not to leave. Katara had pretended that it was no big deal – but Ryoma had seen the hurt in her eyes. Moon had stopped smiling, and had opened his eyes, revealing the depths of sadness within them...
"We'll miss you, Samurai."
Ryoma had to swallow just thinking about it. And then… there was Kevin…
"So you're just going to leave?! After everything…! You're moving away?!" Kevin's eyes flashed furiously. "Just like that?! You're going to throw away everything?!"
Ryoma tried to grab his arm to calm him down. "Kev… I'm sor–"
"Don't you fucking apologize!" the blonde boy screamed back at him, jerking away. "Don't you – ARRH! Fuck you, Echizen! I hate you!"
Ryoma closed his eyes at the memory. That bastard… he thought a little sadly without any real anger or resentment. None of his friends had contacted him since he had left – not that they had any real way of doing it due to the false names. Only Kevin could reach him, but somehow Ryoma doubted that he would do that anytime soon. Anger flared inside him again.
Kevin's suppose to be my bestfriend! He didn't even come to see me off at the airport! Ryoma glared at the pavement. Well screw him! After everything we've been through, he just throws our friendship away because I moved to a different country! That bastard! That… that… baka… Thinking about Kevin always sent Ryoma reeling on an emotional rollercoaster – because if the truth be told, he knew he still missed his bestfriend…
But I'm not moping! Stupid old man!
A bell rang in the school, snapping Ryoma out of memory-lane. Resigning himself to his fate, he shouldered his tennis racket bag more firmly, threw his hands into his pockets and sauntered forward.
Ryoma entered the main doors and was greeted with a corridor of students. He forced his body to remain relaxed while his senses raved at the unfamiliar environment, people, and voices. His ears caught every comment, every movement, his nose was assaulted with hundreds of different smells of food, perfume, cleaning chemicals, body odours – and his eyes took in every action, though he outwardly kept them focused ahead. He was on high alert – his mind instinctively assembling a 3-D map of the surroundings.
The boy strolled forward with hands still causally thrown in his pockets, and his bags hanging off his left shoulder, staring stoically ahead. He felt the crowd moving around him, parting in front of him, and he heard the whispers starting behind him. He heard the sudden giggling of girls, heard the boy's questioning remarks, felt their eyes raking him up and down appreciatively. It was the same wherever he went, he was used to it – his attentive senses made it hard for him to ignore – but still, that didn't stop him from trying.
Ryoma soon found his way blocked by a group of first years who were all crowding around someone.
"…I know because I'm Horio with two years of tennis experience!" The guy in the middle was bragging loudly. The other first years 'Oohed' and 'Ahhed' in amazement – some even applauded. It didn't seem like they were moving anytime soon, so Ryoma inwardly grumbled and walked around the back of the group next to the lockers lining the right-hand side walls.
Not far down from the first years were a few older students congregating outside a classroom doorway on the opposite side of the corridor. Ryoma watched them discretely out of the corner of his eye as he passed by. There was a chirpy red-head guy hanging off the shoulders of a taller boy with a hair-cut that made him look like an egghead – they were laughing together. Next to them was a sensitive-looking guy who was rubbing the back of his head and blushing furiously at a girl who was talking to him. Looming behind him was a creepy looking guy, scribbling in a notebook as his glasses gleamed sinisterly. And next to them was –
"– bloody mamushi!" shouted a spiky-haired second year.
"Fssshhhh! You trying to pick a fight Momoshiri?!" another scarier looking second year yelled back, they grabbed each other by their collars.
"It's Momoshi-ro you bastard!"
"You're the bastard!" The scarier looking second year shoved the spiky-haired boy backwards – and Ryoma suddenly found himself about to be crushed between a hulking load of second year muscle, and the lockers next to him. Luckily his reaction skills were much better then the average person…
With a tight grip on his bags, Ryoma whipped his right hand out of his pocket, reflexively bending his knees as he did so – with milliseconds to spare – he jumped. Catching the top off the locker with his right hand he used it as a lever to lift his body high into the air – folding his legs out to the side. The spiky-haired boy simultaneously crashed hard into the locker doors beneath Ryoma, as the golden-eyed boy literally leapt over him. With the grace and poise of a professional, Ryoma landed on the other side, and stood up straight again.
The chatter around him faded out… and then rose louder then ever with the student's exclamations.
"Sugoi…! Nya, Oishi did you see that?!" the red-head gaped; his blue eyes were drinking in Ryoma.
His friend looked a little pale, and started forward anxiously. "Oh my, are you okay? We're so sorry! Are you alright?"
"Fssshhhh, baka."
"Mamushi! That was your fault!" the spiky-haired boy stood up in anger, rubbing his elbow where it had hit the lockers. Then he turned to Ryoma sheepishly, "Gomen, I'm very sorry about that. But that jump…! What a great reaction time for a shortie like you!"
Ryoma's eyebrow twitched; …shortie…? He glared at the group, letting them take the full brunt of his blazing golden gaze – they all looked rather taken aback. Really, what a bunch of bakas.
"Che," he dismissed them, stuck his hands back in his pockets, and walked away nonchalantly.
"What's with him?" he heard one of the senpais say from behind him.
"I dunno… Ne! Is that a tennis racket he's carrying?"
"Aa, I wonder who he is…"
EST
Ryoma stood in Seigaku's office waiting with unconcealed boredom as his class schedule was handed to him – along with a whole lot of school pleasantries and 'helpful' tips – that Ryoma could've happily gone his whole life without knowing. Plus the office lady had assigned him a tour-guide from the school's 'buddy system', to help him settle in on his first day.
"Ohayou! Douzo yoroshiku! My name is Osakada Tomoka! But please call me Tomo-chan, okay Echizen Ryoma-sama?!" a girl with short pig-tails enthusiastically greeted him.
Ryoma sweat-dropped and tried to inconspicuously inch away. "…Aa…"
"Great-o! Ryoma-sama, you play tennis! Sugoi! You're so cool!" Tomoka screamed when she saw his tennis bag, and she clasped her hands to her chest, her eyes went big and starry. Ryoma's eardrums throbbed from her loud high-pitched voice. That was the downside to having extra-sensitive hearing, the screaming fans that ended almost every sentence with an exclamation mark, always leaving Ryoma with a headache.
For the next hour or so Ryoma was reluctantly dragged around the school by this loud fangirl through what seemed an eternity of pointless greetings, inductions, and tours of the school – all of which went over Ryoma's head. His indifferent and cold attitude just seemed to fuel this girl even more. He swore she hadn't shut-up nor – breathed – since they had left the office.
"This is the English classroom! You'll be in here with me but I hope you're better at English then me! I don't really understand what the teacher is talking about most of the time – actually that's the same in a lot of my classes! Oh! Here's the Math classroom, it used to be the art room but then we got a new room…" Ryoma closed his eyes as the girl nattered away like an incessant whine in Ryoma's ear… he tried to tune her out. Geez, everything had happened so fast…
Once the Extreme Street Tennis championship had ended, Ryoma had to take it easy for several months, Felix had disappeared, and everyone else kind of moved on, taking their share of the prize money. They had still kept in contact though, meeting up every now and again on the weekend and after school. Moon went on to enter a famous music school, and soon became a celebrated student there with his violin. Sam had set up this apartment stuffed full with the latest technology and whole cases of books, and he would hole up there for days on end inventing… well in truth Ryoma didn't know what he was making, but judging by the sounds that came from behind the closed door, it was something big…
Kintarou and Katara hired a full-time guardian so they could get out of orphanage, then they bought a mansion and estate by combining their money with Kevin's, and the three of them moved in. Kevin had gotten sick and tired of his father, and joined the twins the first chance he'd got. Duke had taken an extended holiday to Fiji, and they occasionally received post-cards from him and pictures of him lazing on sunny beaches, or immersed in a giant Jacuzzi.
Nanjiro had been true to his word, and as soon as Ryoma's shoulder had healed, he'd been entered in American tennis tournaments. These were so easy it was almost painful… Ryoma hadn't raised his Level above Three the entire time, even when facing sixteen year olds. And people had been amazed at his talent… Hehe, if only they knew.
"…of course I always said so but no one believed me, typical right?" Tomoka was still talking happily in the one-sided conversation as they walked down the corridor. "Just through there are the boys toilets, and upstairs are the girl's toilets – but you don't really need to know that…" Ryoma wished he could just get away and find somewhere peaceful and quiet to curl up and sleep – preferably in the sun… "Oh! Also chemistry is upstairs! Do you do chemistry Ryoma-sama? I do, but the work is really hard! Oh! And the roof is upstairs too!"
"You don't say…" Ryoma muttered, rolling his eyes. The single place she hadn't shown him yet was the tennis courts; the only thing Ryoma was interested in here at Seigaku. A bell rang somewhere in the school; it was lunch-time, and the level of noise rose suddenly in the surrounding classrooms. A door opened near Ryoma and Tomoka and students streamed out.
"Ne! Sakuno-chan, come here!" Tomoka darted forward suddenly, grabbing the shoulder of one the girls leaving the classroom and yanking her out of the stream. "Ryoma-sama, this is my friend Ryuzaki Sakuno-chan, a first year too! Sakuno this is Echizen Ryoma-sama, he's new from America!" then Tomoka's eyes narrowed slyly and she added in a whisper, "isn't he sooo kawaii?" The Ryuzaki girl blushed bright red, and started stuttering something completely unintelligible.
Ryoma simply stood in the corridor with his hands in his pockets as the noisy throng of students swarmed by him, uncaring that they had to go around him. So far everyone I've met here has been annoying – or loud – or both.
"So Ryoma-sama!" Tomoka turned back to him with hearts shining in her eyes. "What do you think of Seigaku so far??? Pretty good, huh?!"
"Betsuni," Ryoma said, and he turned away to find a vending machine that sold Ponta.
EST
Lunch-time found Ryoma fast asleep on a secluded – peaceful – part of Seishun Academy's roof near the tennis courts. The black-haired boy had come up to the roof to escape the crowds – then he'd simply jumped the barrier, and walked along the rail like a balancing beam with his hands still in his pockets and his tennis racket bag shouldered. When he'd sighted the fencing of the tennis courts, he'd settled down in a warm corner above the tennis changing rooms. The sun had finally come out, and Ryoma had then fallen asleep due to jet-lag, as well as the fact that he'd been training in Level Five for a while the day before. Unfortunately he forgot to wake up again, so he slept the last two hours of school away. Shame that.
Ryoma woke to the sound of tennis balls rebounding, and he stretched languidly like a cat, before sitting up. He slid around onto his stomach and pulled his body forward to the edge of the roof searching for the source of the sound. Several people were on the court in front of him, but Ryoma only recognised one of them, the loud-mouth Horio guy. Ryoma watched them curiously to judge their tennis ability – there were three freshmen on court trying to hit a can, as well as some senpai-tachi who were watching and sniggering as the first years missed. As the minutes dragged by Ryoma's lips set in grim line, and his eyes began burning with a golden fire. The senpai-tachi were obviously bullying the freshmen with a fixed game…
…and Ryoma couldn't stand bullies.
The Samurai junior reached over and pulled his red racket from his bag along with a few tennis balls, then he gracefully stood up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. Judging the distance with natural ease, Ryoma stood on the edge of the roof. With a lazy fluid serve he made the ball soar through the air, over the boundary fence of the tennis courts – to hit the can with pinpoint precision and pop the lid off – spilling rocks out from the inside.
Amazed silence fell on the court in front of him as the students looked at the fallen can in confusion.
"…Huh?"
"Sugoi… Ne! Senpai is cheating!!"
"Where'd that come from…?"
"What damn bastard is interfering with our game?!"
Ryoma smirked, and served again – this time with more force. The yellow ball spun up high into the air, and then zoomed down with a vengeance to squash the can, leaving a large tennis ball shaped dent. The student's jaws fell open, their eyes following the ball hypnotically as it bounced to a stop.
"…flattened…" one of them whispered.
"Only a… a Regular could do that!" the juniors choked. "Let's get out of here!" the bullies ran from the court, tripping over one another in their haste. Still gaping, Horio crouched and started poking the 'mysteriously' flattened can, while the other two watched on. Ryoma smirked, feeling at ease with the well-known grip of his racket as a gentle breeze shifted past, blowing through his hair and pulling the edge of his shirt. Suddenly a movement on the court boundary caught his attention, and he turned to look more closely.
It was the spiky-haired second year, Momoshiro, and he was gazing with wide eyes directly at Ryoma.
Kuso… Quickly Ryoma spun around and backed away from the edge of the roof. Scooping up his tennis bag, he shoved his racket back inside and zipped it up, moving swiftly across the roof of the changing rooms, and out of sight of the tennis courts. With a leaping jump off a wall, he grabbed a ledge and swung himself around to seize a drain-pipe. Scaling down hastily, he let himself drop the last metre or so, and then straightened with his hands in his pockets, trying to walk away as calmly as possible. Damn… I suppose that guy's going to tell all his friends too, Ryoma inwardly sighed. I wonder if this team is even worth the time…
EST
"Echizen are you listening?" Horio demanded.
"…Betsuni," Ryoma said from the ground where he was tying his shoes. It was the next day, and they were at their first tennis morning training. Horio continued talking anyway, but Ryoma had already ingrained an automatic 'tune out' when it came to the loud-mouth kid. Really, if this guy and that Tomoka girl should get ever get together – Australia wouldn't be far enough away to block out the noise…
Ryoma finished tying his shoes and took up his red racket, walking to stand on one of the Seigaku courts. The early weak rays of sunlight struggled through the clouds, and it was still cool outside; he blinked sleepily as he picked at the tight strings, thinking wistfully of the soft, warm sheets of his bed. Morning training in tennis was a longtime source of anguish for Ryoma. It had been very hard to force himself to get up this morning, especially since he had been training late into the night yesterday. Since he no longer had his friends to play games with, he now had to work even harder to stay in shape.
"The Regulars!" Horio's loud voice yelled suddenly. Ryoma turned towards the court entrance to see an impressive group of students walk through… and a familiar group of students at that…
Oh, well that's just peachy…
They were the same baka kids from the day before but, by the way the rest of the Seigaku's tennis team were treating them, anyone would think they were famous. The scary looking boy with the bandana led the way, with the red head, the egg-head, the glasses guy, and the timid boy following. Momoshiro wasn't with them, instead there was – Moon?!
Ryoma choked, impossible! It couldn't be… he looked closer. Oh… it wasn't… meh. But the guy was damn near close enough. This guy was actually older then Moon was. His hair was browner, longer and curl free. But the way he stood was the same, and they both had exactly the same creepy angelic smile…
Feeling oddly disconcerted Ryoma went back to picking at his racket. The Regulars didn't notice him. Practice began at last, the freshmen were told to start doing some stretches, while the Regulars began a warm up drill of hitting balls back into the basket. After a few minutes Ryoma completed his stretching exercises; he stood up and arched his back against his racket, holding it in place with arms with his hands in his pockets, facing away from the courts.
Then one of the regulars called, "Whoops, that one's too high!"
Ryoma heard the ball whistling through the air, and sensed it was coming straight for him. He lazily took up the racket, lifting it high into the air. Easily catching the ball, he flipped it backwards forcefully, and heard it whiz back – straight into the basket of balls. All motion ceased on the court, and he felt the tennis team's stares. Che… it's not that hard.
"Whoa…"
"Did you see that?"
"He wasn't even looking!"
"Straight into the basket…"
"That's that new super-rookie, isn't it?"
"Amazing!"
Whispers of awe went around the court, they probably thought they were being quiet, but thanks to Ryoma's extra-sensitive hearing, he heard every word. Super-rookie? They knew he was coming? He wondered how… Oh, right. That baka old man…
He turned his head slightly to look at the Regulars out of the corner of his eye. A glint of amused excitement and recognition showed on the red head's face.
"Ne, Oishi, it's that kid from yesterday!"
'Oishi' (the egg-head boy) smiled back. "Hmm."
"What kid from yesterday?" the Moon-look-a-like asked, and the red head happily informed him of Ryoma's 'sugoi' jumping feat, causing the smiling boy to turn to Ryoma in… kind of creepy interest. Ryoma suppressed a shiver.
"Why are you all standing around?" a sharp voice rebounded across the courts, and the players snapped to attention, turning towards Ryoma.
"Buchou!"
Ryoma's head shot up, wha–? Then he realised the team wasn't looking at him, but behind him. Ryoma turned around again. A striking man who looked about twenty years old, wearing glasses and a serious expression, stood at the court entrance. Ryoma blinked and cocked his head slightly to the side. The man was wearing a student's uniform… and the team had called him 'buchou.' Oh-kay then.
He continued examining the boy before him. So this guy was going to be his new captain? Huh… Ryoma raised his head, and with some surprise, found the stern gaze directed at him. A weird tingle at the back of his mind sprung up from the shock, but Ryoma quickly quashed it, and boldly began an impromptu staring match with the captain. Maybe he was being impertinent, but one thing Ryoma had learned in America was that people had to earn their respect; he wasn't about to dish out real respect to just anyone.
"Everyone start warming up! When finished; second and third years are on the courts! First years; be ready to pick up balls! That's it for today!" Tezuka ordered.
"H-Hai!" the team scurried to obey. Ryoma turned away from the buchou, and tugged his hat down over his face. Great. I got up early to pick up balls… being a first year is such a pain.
The trio of freshmen from the day before began puffing around the outside of the courts – doing laps as part of their warm up. An idea came to him as he watched them, and Ryoma brightened up. Couldn't he just do laps? He only had to go ball-chasing when he was finished warming up, but Tezuka hadn't said how long the 'warm up' session was… Heeh, I love loopholes, Mada Mada Dane! Ryoma put his racket back in its bag, and slipped into his usual graceful loping run. The simple activity lulled his thoughts, and soon he had completely zoned out.
It wasn't until some time later on, when he became aware that he was being watched by some of his senpais. Wait a moment… how many laps had he done? Che, it didn't matter anyway. Ryoma turned on his heel and walked back to the courts.
EST
Fuji smiled as Tezuka's gaze once again deviated from the courts to the freshman running laps around it. Other than the obvious fact of Echizen now being the only team member still 'warming up', something about the first year had attracted the captain's interest – a feat not easily done – but very amusing to watch. Fuji would have expected Tezuka to call the boy back in by now, reprimand him, and set him chasing balls with the other freshmen. However, it almost seemed that Tezuka was reluctant to call on Echizen's blatant disregard of his buchou's orders… why if Fuji didn't know any better he would say Tezuka was fighting a battle of wills…
"A curious first year, ne Tezuka?"
"Perhaps," Tezuka replied curtly, turning his attention back to the courts.
Fuji smiled. "No doubt, he's the one Ryuzaki-sensei was talking about."
"Hn." Ryuzaki had seemed quite excited one evening a few days before, a pleased smile had been pasted on her face and a wicked scheming gleam present in her eye as she debriefed the Regulars. Apparently there was a new student entering Seigaku who was the son of a previous member – and by their coach's reaction – no ordinary member at that.
"Echizen is an unanticipated variable," Inui murmured from several steps away as he scribbled in his infamous notebook. "This requires extensive research with resources not currently available to me."
Fuji smiled. "Saa… in other words Inui; you want to Google his name and see what pops up."
Inui paused in his writing, obviously thrown for a moment. "A-Aa," he muttered and snapped his notebook shut.
Fuji's smile widened. "I think that this year is going to be very different," he mused.
"…"
Fuji slid the stoic buchou a sly glance. "Ne, Tezuka?"
"Don't let your guard down." And Fuji inwardly huffed; of course, you'd say that, I shouldn't have hoped for anything else.
"Che," someone snorted from behind them. The two senpai turned around to see Echizen eyeing them from under the white brim of his cap. They hadn't heard him approaching, but he was standing just a few feet behind them; a cocky smirk playing on his lips, and his red racket shouldered nonchalantly – but his eyes drew them in. The first year's eyes burned with peculiar flame, challenging them – daring – them, and as Fuji met it, somewhere deep inside him a spark ignited in a rush of excitement and restlessness.
"NE! Echizen, are you helping with ball duty, or not?!" Horio yelled, not noticing the senpai-tachi.
Echizen grimaced ever so slightly. "Hai," he said despondently and moved off towards his classmates.
Focused blue eyes watched him go. Saa… a curious first year indeed…
EST
"This is all the necessary equipment available to you, I've had Sam make some improvements to the suits, and the rackets have been made specially," Felix explained calmly. The younger kids rummaged through the pile on the blue mat. Kintarou held up a black boot and was prodding the extra grip sole with his finger. Moon was fixing some sort of wrist technology to his arm. Duke was fiddling with an ear piece, Kevin was examining an averaged sized white ball, and Katara was holding a black and green suit up against herself. The suit looked a bit like black wet-suit material, but tighter and cooler with short sleeves and the leggings ending just below the knees.
A green shoulder-and-chest-plate covered the top half of the torso, and there were green knee pads as well. Judging from the way Katara was holding it, the suit seemed pretty light and flexible. Ryoma himself had picked up a green and black decorated racket – it was slightly larger and longer then his own. Felix continued smoothly, "You are all required to wear the suits for safety's sake, and you will all learn to communicate and work together using the ear pieces. Moon, that hand-grappler has a grip pad on the palm, but as you can see, the fingers are left open to allow free motion. Now point it at the roof." Moon did as he was bid; the rest of the group looked on curiously. "Press the button at the base."
Moon pressed it, and a thick strong black rope shot out, attaching itself to the roof. There was a group gasp of wonder. Felix gazed at them levelly, his cold eyes piercing their own. "You will watch me swing across the room using two hand-grapplers, then once in the third pinnacle of Level Five, you will do it yourself," it was not a request. "The white ball that Kevin is holding is the standard Extreme Streets Tennis ball, it has greater 'bounce' then normal balls, but is heavier then say, a child's bouncy-ball toy, to give it enough weight to play with. The rackets are basically the standard for the ultimate game, but slightly modified to suit the individual. While they are different from what you are used to, don't worry, as you'll soon adapt. Now everyone suit up," Felix ordered and walked away, taking a few sips from a bottle in his hand.
Moon turned to Ryoma and smiled, "Ne, buchou doesn't this sound like fun?"
Ryoma turned to the boy surprised, Moon was speaking Japanese? Then his eyes widened as he was met not with his friend – but with that senpai from the courts today – who Ryoma found out was called Fuji-senpai… The third year's smile faded and he opened his eyes, transfixing Ryoma with a damning gaze. Slowly, before his very eyes the third year seemed to grow taller and his gaze went cold as ice. Then suddenly he wasn't Fuji anymore, or even Moon – it was Felix. His wild ice blue eyes consumed Ryoma as he towered over him, Felix's black hair coming loose from its tie and crawling like shadowy tentacles over the fifteen year old's face as Felix laughed and laughed–
"AHH!" Ryoma shot up straight in bed, sweat was running off his face. Karupin gave a startled meow and then leapt off the bed; highly disgruntled. The twelve year old breathed deeply… oh… it was just a dream… strange. Ryoma lay back down, trying to calm his crazily beating heart. It was a while before he was able to fall asleep again.
EST
The next day for Ryoma past in a flash, until he found that someone had stolen his tennis rackets…
EST
"So are you going to play? Mr. 'Oh-I'm-the-best-player'?" Arai's taunting voice resounded across the courts. The four Regulars on court stopped their practice and turned to watch curiously. Their buchou and vice-captain Oishi were currently absent; they were having a meeting with Ryuzaki-sensai in organising the Intraschool Rankings Tournament. Momoshiro was still away due to his twisted ankle.
"Hey, it seems that Arai is picking on Echizen," Inui commented, his brow creased.
Eiji scoffed scornfully at the troublesome junior. "Just listen to the way he talks!"
"What should we do, stop him?" Inui asked. Arai and two other second years had menacingly surrounded Echizen and the some other first years. Echizen was holding a crappy old racket, looking annoyed.
"The others will come back soon, and Tezuka's not going to like this," Eiji said anxiously, bouncing from one foot to the other as they all looked at the commotion.
"Aa…" Fuji agreed absently, his eyes once again fixed on the unordinary freshman.
"For a first year, that racket is just right for you. If you get what I'm saying, stop acting cocky! Saa... If you comply, maybe those three precious rackets of yours will reappear… Hahaha!" Arai laughed with his cronies.
"H-hey Echizen! Where are you going?!" Horio flustered. Echizen was walking onto a tennis court.
"Geez, there are some weaklings who can only think up dirty methods to play," the boy said.
"What…? Are you accusing me of hiding your rackets?" Arai demanded; the trio of freshmen sweat-dropped in fear. The Regulars watched with wary serious faces as the spectacle unfolded before them.
"Well," Echizen walked to the net, and scuffed the ground with his foot as if testing the grip of the court. "If the shoe fits…" he said darkly in English. Silence reigned on the courts, broken by Fuji, who started chuckling – he being the only one who understood the language well enough. Echizen caught Fuji's eye and smirked, then tugged his white hat down.
"What did he say?" Inui asked, his glasses flashed sinisterly as he pulled out his notebook.
Fuji looked at his fellow classmates, smiling mysteriously. "I say we see how this turns out."
"I knew you'd say something like that!" Eiji pouted.
"That idiot!" Horio exclaimed loudly to the other freshmen. "There's no way he can play with that racket! He's going to lose big time!"
Arai grinned at Echizen. "Alight then… I'll shut that big mouth of yours for good!" The second year joined Echizen on court, scooping up a few balls as he went. The Regulars looked on; Eiji fiddled with his racket anxiously, Kaidoh was pretending to be uninterested, and Inui was wearing an expression that clearly said 'Good time to collect data…' while Fuji smiled happily.
The game began. Arai narrowed his eyes in concentration, and served the ball with all his strength. Echizen reacted smoothly with a practiced motion, but the racket made a weird dead sound as it connected, and the ball was flung into the net.
Arai smirked triumphantly. "Ne, what's wrong?" he taunted.
"It's impossible with that racket," Horio moaned hopelessly, his loud voice easy to hear from where the Regulars were standing. Echizen picked at a string on the crappy old racket, his hat hid his expression.
"Where are those big words you used a while ago?" Arai grinned evilly. "Let's finish this to the end!" He served once again, throwing even more power into the shot. Responding fluidly, Echizen moved with light soundless steps, his shirt rippling around him revealing taut white muscles beneath. He countered with a forehand, the racket made that dead noise, and the ball flew way out. The other second years laughed in contempt. Arai picked up another ball – his face was smug.
"Echizen-kun can't control the ball!" a freshman said.
"What's with that weird impact sound!" said another.
Inui adjusted his glasses. "Even if he wants to return it, it will not work that well."
"Usu," Fuji sighed, "with those kinds of strings, he won't be able to add a topspin to the ball." But somehow he sensed that it wasn't over yet…
"Heeeh," they turned their eyes back to Echizen. The boy tapped the racket, making the weird sound. "Now I get it..." then Arai served a third time. Echizen reacted differently. His movements were still sinuous, but his footing had shifted, and he twisted his body. Fuji could practically see the power coiling in him as the first year rotated, and then the racket connected with the ball, still making that dead sound. The ball was returned with natural ease, cracking past his opponent.
"Euk…!"Arai squawked in shock.
"He hit it?!" the surprised freshman trio exclaimed.
Eiji said knowingly, "Nya, he added a spin to the ball by turning his whole body."
"Impressive," Fuji acknowledged.
"Not really," Echizen replied from the court. The Regulars eyes went wide. "It was so slow…"
"Eh? Don't tell me he could hear us this whole time?" Eiji whispered in a mixture of alarm and amazement.
Echizen gave an annoyed sigh through his teeth as he examine the crappy racket, "Stupid strings, maybe I just won't use them…"
Everyone watching started and a collective, "Ehhh?" rose from the courts.
"Don't get cocky just because you were able to make it once…!" Arai yelled, smacking the ball in anger and serving. Echizen's form changed again, his golden cat-like eyes were focused completely on the spinning ball, his knees bent as he swung his racket – side on?! The ball hit the rim of the racket; and smashed between Arai's legs at breakneck speed, ending quivering in the fence. The tennis club gaped in awe, and exclamations flew back and forth.
"D-did you see that?!"
"That first year's amazing!"
"No way!"
"He used the rim?!"
"Echizen has full control of that racket! Just like yesterday when he made that smash to the basket!" Horio beamed proudly.
"That guy's on fire!" Eiji said next to Fuji, Inui was scribbling away in his notebook.
Fuji watched with clear blue eyes, and mused quietly, "He's not your average player."
"T-that was a lucky shot!" Arai yelled furiously waving his racket about to emphasize his point.
Echizen raised an eyebrow. "Was it? Alright, I'll do it slower this time, so you can watch properly," a wicked grin slid across his face, "and I'll aim a little higher too." Arai paled as he remembered how the ball had gone between his legs and his grip tightened on his racket. Fuji chuckled.
Eiji shot his friend a look. "Figures you would find that funny. Bloody sadist…" he mumbled.
"I can't bear this anymore," Kaidoh suddenly burst out. "He's disgracing us second years. I'm going to the rest-room." He turned abruptly on his heel and stalked away. Fuji, who hadn't taken his eyes off Echizen, saw the first year was watching the Regular leave.
"Ne, Kaidoh…" Fuji called apprehensively, just as Arai served again. This time Echizen hit it back using the body twist shot, Arai lunged and managed to just catch it, the ball lobbed high. Echizen took two graceful steps towards the net and jumped. "Here it comes," the first year warned evenly. The crappy racket flashed through the air, smashing the ball against the rim – the ball collided with the ground – and then bounced at a super-fast tangent to the side.
Fuji's eyes opened wide.
"Kaidoh!" he barked in warning. Kaidoh turned around just in time, and the ball whizzed by him, narrowly missing his shoulder, and striking the boundary fence two courts away. The Regulars all fell silent, the tennis ball bounced in the background. Fuji looked back at Echizen, surely that can't have been on purpose? A freshman couldn't have that good control? …Could he?
"Gomen, senpai!" Echizen called, shouldering his racket and turning away. He tilted his head up arrogantly and closed his eyes. "Che, what a disgraceful shot," the Regulars exchanged sharp looks, "I guess it really annoys me when people take my stuff." Echizen opened his eyes and they blazed from under his hat at Arai. "So let's finish this to the end, senpai!"
Arai gulped nervously. "Aha-ha… let's just call it a break…"
"Yadda."
EST
And so Ryoma became a Regular.
It was a little harder then he thought it was going to be, it seemed his oyaji had been right in sending him to Seigaku. Most members of the tennis club were only Level Two, but the two Regulars he'd versed in the Intraschool Rankings Tournament were easily Level Three, with the potential to become at least Level Four. Everybody had skill Levels, but most weren't aware of what they were. Ryoma had hard-earned control over his, and was also good at judging other peoples. Of course, occasionally there came the few who were skilled enough to hide their true Levels – himself being one of those people.
– Earlier that week –
"Snake!"
Ryoma's opponent Kaidoh hit the snake again, forcing Ryoma to run to along the baseline. But to Ryoma's trained eye it was almost like the ball was moving in slow-motion, he ran effortlessly from line to line of the court, shifting his shoulders with poise, then returning the ball with interchanging right-handed forehands and backhands.
This endurance running had been going on for a while now; obviously Kaidoh was trying to tire him out by repeatedly using his 'Snake' technique. Ryoma was highly enjoying himself.
"Heeh, its hot today, isn't it senpai?" Ryoma conversed, as he fell into a rhythm, purposefully hitting countering shots that made it easy for Kaidoh to use his technique.
"He can move very fast," Ryoma heard the third year Inui comment from behind the fence.
"Aa, he is no doubt an incredible freshman, ne Tezuka?" Fuji asked the team buchou.
Tezuka gave curt nod to show that he'd heard. "Hn."
Ryoma allowed himself a small smirk, they probably had no idea he could hear them. Around the corner he caught the other freshmen's conversation.
"It seems that Ryoma-kun can return any ball!" Kachiro Kato said.
"At this rate, he may even stand a chance!" said his friend MizunoKatsuo.
Momoshiro came up behind them. "He's completely fallen into Kaidoh's trap."
"Trap?!"
"The snake is only Kaidoh's bait," Momoshiro said, "he really intends to make his opponent lose their stamina." The freshmen gasped in a mixture of horror and respect for their senior.
Ryoma focused on the ball, inadvertently resembling a curious cat playing with a toy – he returned it again, and half-smiled at his adversary.
"Ne, Kaidoh-senpai, you seem to be sweating a lot… maybe it'd be better if you take off that jacket?"
"Fssssshhhhh…" came the hissed reply. Ryoma smirked, and sliced the ball into the opposite corner, Kaidoh, lunged and missed. The second year was breathing heavily and sweat ran down his forehead.
"The one falling into the trap is Kaidoh," Inui said as he scribbled, his pen flying over the page.
"Kaidoh has lost to his own technique," Ryoma heard Tezuka say disapprovingly to the other third years.
Hmm… that's actually a good idea… Ryoma mused, he was barely sweating at all and his breathing was even. He lowered his hat for a moment and concentrated, raising his Level to Three.
"Ne, this technique, the Snake," the boy called across the court as he raised his racket, "it's the 'Buggy Whip Shot' right? Here it comes!" Ryoma hit the 'Snake' back at Kaidoh, scoring another point as the second year stared in disbelief.
"Ehh?!" was the general reaction around the courts as members jaws fell open.
"It was the snake…" Kikumaru gasped.
Kawamura was bug-eyed. "How did he–?!"
"Heh… that was unexpected…" Fuji murmured.
"Hoi, hoi, this isn't funny," Momoshiro whined looking rather worried.
"Sugoi! That was amazing Ryoma-kun!" Kachiro cheered.
"He really is a tensai!" Mizuno cheered with him.
"Don't tell me that just by watching…" Oishi started his eyes still big.
"He has successfully learned the Snake," Fuji finished, flicking his attention to the buchou to judge his reaction. Tezuka was stoic as ever, but his eyes were contemplating something. Ryoma smiled.
"Game set, match won by Echizen. Six games to two."
– Later that same day –
The three freshmen were arguing on court about him, Ryoma was dragging a broom along the ground, sweeping up the leaves.
"Ne, I don't care what you say, but can we finish cleaning up?" He was bored.
"Ne, ne, Ryoma-kun, did you practice with a coach when you were younger?" Kachiro asked as he ran up to him.
"You sure are good. Have you ever lost a game?" Mizuno followed enthusiastically.
Ryoma mentally sighed, and continued pulling the broom along the ground. "Of course," he said bluntly without elaboration.
The first years looked taken back. "Don't joke around Ryoma-kun. Isn't becoming a professional player your goal?"
"Not really," he replied indifferently.
"How can that be?! What a waste! With your abilities, you can definitely become a pro!"
Ryoma kept walking without looking back. "Not interested."
"Eh?! Why?"
"Then why do you play tennis?" Horio demanded.
Ryoma sighed, his expression set. "There's a guy I want to defeat," he revealed flatly. Then said no more on the matter; his thoughts consumed by Felix.
– The Next day –
Ryoma was playing Inui and the score was one-love, Inui's way.
"I've seen all four games you've played including the one you played against Kaidoh. Your data has been collected. The probability that you'd hit a cross-shot just then was seventy-five percent." Ryoma turned his head towards the third year. Then he tugged on his hat and smirked.
"Heeeh, what a strange way of playing tennis. You can really tell where I'll hit the ball because you've thoroughly studied my play-style… right?" he turned his head to look at the Regular with one eye, a cocky smile still playing on his lips.
Inui pursed his lips slightly. "Usu," he affirmed getting into the receiving position.
Ryoma could see the ever-present first years crowding around the fence in the corner of his vision. His eyes grew a little when he saw Moon's look-a-like arriving to watch too. He shrugged, alright, they want a show, so I'll give them one. Turning his attention back to the game, he once again smirked at the waiting Inui.
"Hmm… so… what about if I do this…?" Ryoma spun the racket around by flicking his wrist, changing it from his right hand to his left hand. Then he continued talking leisurely into stunned silence. "My left hand is stronger then my right… Did you predict that?" Inui was frozen on the other side of the net. "Mada Mada Dane."
Ryoma served.
– Seven minutes later –
"Game set, match won by Echizen. Six games to one."
– Present time –
"Ne, brat! Are we training today or what?" Nanjiro asked, his racket shouldered. Ryoma looked up at him. "Hai," he said, and languidly got to his feet, picking up his red racket next to him. The two of them walked outside, and Ryoma set his racket down on the ground and began stretching. Nanjiro watched him pensively from the steps. Without looking at his oyaji Ryoma began doing some warm-up laps around the house and temple grounds. He easily fell into that familiar rhythm and lost himself in the motion.
…
"Alright brat! Stop already!" Nanjiro called from the steps, sounding irritated. Ryoma looked up in surprise, and walked over. Nanjiro eyed him. "Geez, you'd think after seventy laps you'd look a little tired…"
Ryoma shrugged indifferently and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and relaxing his shoulders. He felt the power build inside him, running with an electric buzz through his veins as he raised his Level, rapidly increasing it until he felt it break the barrier of Level Five, and he slipped into Muga no Kyōchi. He continued raising it until he broke into the third Pinnacle. His eyes snapped open, almost glowing in their illuminating green colour, and then he flipped off his hat – letting it fall to the ground – revealing his green hair.
"Let's start…" he said, picking up his racket and moving off.
Nanjiro followed meekly behind him. "It's a little freaky when you do that…" he mumbled.
When they had first moved here, Nanjiro had helped Ryoma set up a complex but moderately-sized adventure playground. Nanjiro stopped twenty meters away from it, pulling out a basket of tennis balls. Ryoma continued walking to the play-equipment, using a graceful rebound-jump off a pole to catch a three-meter-high ledge, and elegantly swung himself up. He stood on a small platform, waiting for his father to serve. Since they were using normal balls, and not actually playing a real game of Extreme Streets Tennis, Ryoma was using a normal tennis racket, and was dressed in causal clothes instead of the customary suit.
The adventure playground didn't go higher then eight meters so he wasn't in any real danger. Nevertheless it had taken some convincing to finally get his oyaji to agree to this. Nanjiro had been dead set against Ryoma ever playing or training for Extreme Streets again. But when Ryoma made it clear that wouldn't stop him – by sneaking out at night to train via the window – Nanjiro had reluctantly relented, deciding it was better that Ryoma trained where he could see him, thereby having close emergency help if he needed it. Not that he ever did.
"Are you ready brat?" Nanjiro called, waving his racket to get his attention.
Ryoma smirked, feeling the burning fire of Level Five within him, and that irresistible desire to play hard and have fun.
Speaking in English he growled, "Just serve, old man."
Nanjiro threw the ball up with practiced form and hit it with all his might towards the play-equipment. Ryoma's eyes focused on the lightly spinning blur traveling at high-speed, he felt the full force of the Teni Muhō No Kiwami inferno whirl within him, taking over his senses completely – moving his body instinctively – his limbs appearing to distort and double at the motion, the air swirled around him, playing with his wild green hair as he leapt from the platform. He was flying, soaring on a feeling so intense that it completely consumed him – the pure joy of the game.
Ryoma leapt from bar to bar, somersaulting off a series of tires implanted in wood, flinging himself with wild abandon into the air – his racket connected with the ball – a millisecond later the same ball crashed back into the basket by Nanjiro's feet. Ryoma landed on a slanted bar, and his shoes slid down it, gracefully grinding the bar – arms flung out as if he were surfing. His ears picked up the whistling of an airborne ball – his father had served again, higher this time. Gliding to the end of the bar, Ryoma jumped off, easily grasping a nearby rope and using it as leverage – twisting his body like a cat. Rising about two meters higher, he reached the epitome of his jump, and whipped his racket around to collide squarely with the ball, once again returning it directly to the basket. Another was already on its way as Ryoma fell. Catching a bar with his legs, he flipped himself over – but now he needed both his hands. Throwing the racket up, he sent it spinning forward as he caught a rail, and swung under it – the racket flying over it. The ball had almost reached him, but he caught the racket with his left hand, smacking the ball back, making it invisible to any but those in the apex of the Pinnacle of Perfection, or higher.
His oyaji continued to hit ball after ball at the adventure playground, and Ryoma continued to it them all back into the basket. Nanjiro remained immune to the reckless and dangerous, if not completely insane, stunts his son was pulling. After all…
…this was just everyday training.
EST
Ryoma lurched awake with a frightened gasp, his hands gripping the blanket in a white knuckle hold – they were trembling. Ryoma's breaths sounded abnormally loud in the still dark room, then he realised what had happened and he groaned, leaning forward to rub his eyes. Remnants of the dream flashed back to him like jumbled memories melding into one another. Damn, I should be over this by now! but the nightmare was persistent and reoccurred every couple of nights. As he remembered the dream, the fragmented memories came faster…
…utter darkness… then a blur of colours… his hand reaching out… a gunshot… pain… laughter… darkness… Kevin yelling… the ball spinning… cold so cold… Moon's sad eyes… angry shouting…a gunshot… pain… laughter… darkness…
Ryoma shivered. Suddenly he was unable to stay in his bed, or even in his room. He threw off the bed covers, stumbling over to some discarded clothes and changing into them as quietly as possible. Pulling on some shoes, he carefully slid the window open and climbed out. This wasn't the first time this had happened. Ryoma often went for midnight walks when he couldn't sleep; he just made sure that he was back home in time for breakfast.
EST
"Ne, Tezuka?" Fuji asked the Seigaku buchou as the walked to school.
"Hmm?"
"What do think of the new freshman?" There was no need for him to elaborate on who he meant. "I'm sure you heard about Inui's match by now, how his data tennis was neutralised?"
"Hai."
"Which means, he played Kaidoh the entire time with his right-hand…"
"…"
Fuji sneaked a side look at the silent Tezuka. "Saa… he certainly is eye-catching, a bit of a wild-card, and a real enigma… don't you think?"
Finally, Tezuka replied, "I think that Echizen will be a prosperous addition for the team."
Fuji smiled pleasantly, that's not the answer I wanted, and you know it Tezuka, he tried again. "Surely you are curious though… what Echizen's full potential is…" no reaction, Fuji opened his blue eyes so to peer intensely at the Seigaku buchou. "You know… if the kid was actually playing seriously."
There was a slight hesitation between Tezuka's steps. Fuji replaced his mask in triumph, so Tezuka had noticed it too – Echizen has been holding back in the matches so far.
"Don't let your guard down," Tezuka said, his eyes hidden by his glasses – which wouldn't make a difference, as they were probably expressionless anyway…
EST
Ryoma stood in the doorway of the Seigaku change-room; the Regulars were all in there changing for the morning practice. Up until this point Ryoma had always changed with the other freshman, but from now on he had a locker with the other Regulars, and was currently mentally debating whether or not to just turn around and close the door on this chaos.
"Ohayou! Hoi, hoi! Oishi! Nya!" A flying red-headed acrobat launched himself at his friend.
"Ah! Eiji – Ohayou!"
"Ne, Kawamura-senpai…" Momoshiro sidled slyly up to the boy. "I heard that someone had a date last night! How'd it go?"
Kawamura flushed. "Eh, i-it wasn't really a date, as such, more a kind of… er…"
"Here's your racket Taka-kun,"
"I-it was – Oh, thanks Fuji – GREAT-O! I WAS ON FIRE! BURNINGGG!"
"Fuji-senpai!" Momoshiro yelped accusingly, and leapt backwards out of the way of the failing racket.
"Fufufu,"
"Baka idiot Momoshiri!" Kaidoh yelled, as Momoshiro had jumped backwards into him.
"It's Momoshi-ro Viper!"
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"
"WHO ARE YOU ORDERING ABOUT?!"
"YOU, YOU IDIOT!"
"YOU'RE THE IDIOT!"
"Nya! It's the ochibi!"
Aw crap.
GLOMP
"I'm Kikumaru Eiji a third year – and this is Oishi he's my doubles partner and he's also the vice-captain and my best friend – and this here is Momo a second year oh matte you already know him right – so this is Kaidoh oh you know him too – nya this is Kawamura he's also a third year senior and he has a split personality – and over here is Fuji he's really evil so you should stay away from him and – Nya! Ochibi-chan, what's wrong?!"
"Eiji! You're strangling him!"
"AH! Gomen! Gomen!" Ryoma broke free, collapsing against the door frame as he sucked a huge breath of life-saving air. "Gomen! Gomen! Oh no, now Ochibi's gonna hate me! NYA! Oishi!" Kikumaru wailed in his friend's arms.
"Echizen, are you okay?" Momoshiro placed a hand on his back.
"…'m fine…" Ryoma wheezed, feeling a little dazed. "… Really… Momoshiro-senpai,"
The second year sweat-dropped. "Eh, just Momo-senpai's fine, otherwise it's too long."
"If everyone is not on the court in two minutes, you'll all be running twenty laps!" Tezuka suddenly barked; he stood up fully dressed in the Seigaku tennis uniform looking quite imposing. Everyone froze for half-a-second, and then burst into a flurry of movement, with shirts, jackets, socks – even shoes – flying haphazardly around the room.
Ryoma carefully shed his outer school uniform jacket, and then began unbuttoning the white shirt. He knew he'd have to change in front of the other Regulars today, so he had on a tight black tank-top under his clothes. This was to hide the majority of the scars left by playing Extreme Streets, including the rather obvious one on his right shoulder. Ryoma's neck prickled as he slipped his tennis uniform shirt over his head – someone was watching him.
He turned his head slightly, meeting the masked expression of Fuji-senpai. Fuji smiled and turned away to pick up his racket, and joined Tezuka outside. Ryoma turned back to put his shoes on, but his thoughts remained with the third year. Why did he feel so strange knowing that Fuji had been watching him? Perhaps the senpai suspected…? No. How could he? It was probably just his imagination anyway, a non-existing connection he felt because the boy looked like his friend…
Moon stopped smiling, and opened his eyes, revealing the depths of sadness within them...
Ryoma flipped his hat onto his head and pulled it down to cover his eyes. He went to join his senpai-tachi.
EST
The start of the Tokyo District Preliminaries was only ten days away, so Seigaku was training hard. Ryoma watched all his team-mates verse each other, getting to know them through their tennis, and as he did so he couldn't help but to compare them to his old friends. Kikumaru played in an acrobatic style, like Kintarou but less wild. He was cheerful and bubbly, always bouncing around in stark contrast to the other half of the 'Golden Pair' – as Ryoma had heard them called. Oishi played with great control, when he was on the baseline, practically no ball could pass him. He was a bit of a worry-wart though, and often fretted over the team like a mother hen. Only when he was around Kikumaru did he start to relax and smile more.
Kawamura was a hard-hitter like Duke, off-court he was a friendly guy – if a little shy, but a racket would give him instant 'burning' courage. Inui, while no longer a Regular, was still present at trainings as their 'manager' of sorts. He was little like Sam using probability and his knowledge to predict the game, but he was more into the data side of things. Plus he was really tall and Sam was tiny. Kaidoh liked to keep himself aloof from the others, scaring them off with fierce looks. His explosive personality reminded Ryoma sharply of Katara, especially when he had his frequent fights with Momo. Momo was a lot like Kevin in many ways, and Ryoma felt himself grow closer to the second year than to the other Regulars – probably because of this, and the fact that Ryoma really did miss Kevin heaps, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was feeling a little lonely.
The last two Regulars were different, and Ryoma was having a hard time deciphering what their true Levels were. Fuji played lightly like Moon, but he played to the wind, whilst Moon played to music. Fuji also had a sadistic edge that Moon lacked. Tezuka's presence commanded attention, just like Felix had. The buchou was cold and emotionless, but his voice was sharp and curt instead of a smooth and silky like Felix's. Over the next week Ryoma would often turn around to find one or both of these two Regulars watching him, they never approached him though, so Ryoma could only guess at what they were thinking.
EST
Their first match in the Tokyo District Preliminaries was against the school Gyokurin, Ryoma played doubles with Momo, and they won easily six games to two. Ryoma had really only ever played doubles with Kevin as his partner, back in America their friends called them the 'Super Pair' like Kikumaru and Oishi were called the 'Golden Pair' here. They often played against the doubles pair of Duke and Sam, and it was always a hard battle.
Both Sam and Duke's styles completed the other, they had been dubbed the 'Storm Pair', because Sam moved like lightning, and Duke was like thunder – they were near impossible to beat, but Kevin and Ryoma had pulled it off nearly every time once they'd both achieved Level Six. Kevin's spirit animal, funnily enough, ended up being a Lion – despite everyone predicting he would be some sort of dog. Kevin was overjoyed and had proclaimed it fate, as his fake last name was 'Lionheart'. Ryoma still remembered the last game the four had played…
––
They were at the training club, using the two tennis courts at the same time. Duke and Sam verses Ryoma and Kevin. Currently all four were caught up in the Muga no Kyōchi and in the Pinnacle of Perfection. Ryoma's hat had fallen off long ago, and his green hair and eyes charged with captivating thrill of the game, next to him Kevin's eyes glowed like electric sapphires, his golden hair fanned out around his face, his signature sun-glasses discarded.
Sam was a great force on the other side, his length of bronze hair twisted in an almost serpentine way as it flowed behind him – his saffron coloured eyes and slit-like pupils were wild behind his glasses. Next to him, Duke towered over all of them, his monstrous smooth, dark muscles shone with sweat, his mammoth size made all the more apparent next to Sam. Duke's eyes glittered like obsidian, his enormous hands dwarfing the racket they held.
They moved in a high-speed intricate dance, barely even seeming to touch the ground – barely even seeming to be playing – and to anyone watching, they could barely be seen. Flipping, turning, jumping, twisting, sliding, they flew around the courts smacking the ball back and forth in a game only they in the midst of the Pinnacle could see. To an observer they appeared to flash into view at one point on the court, smash an invisible ball and then flicker and disappear, only to appear five meters away to hit the ball again.
Ryoma returned the ball, his racket swishing faster then light – he landed on the balls of his feet and leapt backwards, rolling under a spin he felt Kevin doing over his head. Sam swooped across and whipped the ball back, Kevin smashed it in mid-flip, Duke used a powerful fore-hand to intercept it. Ryoma switched hands, and accelerated rapidly to where the ball was zooming, swinging his racket, and leaving an arc of blurred red in the air – he used a topspin – the ball connected with a cacophonous crack, directly returning to the opposition. Sam appeared behind it, and slashed it back using his Cork-screw Shot.
Ryoma wasn't worried as he knew Kevin would get it. Kevin launched himself forward, and smashed the ball using a super-advanced version of Ryoma's Twist Shot. Ryoma felt Duke moving towards it, and in a nano-second realised what would happen – he flung himself into a one-handed triple back-flip – trying to reach he other side of the court as quickly as could. Duke was an unstoppable force, he swiped at the ball, letting loose a thunderous roar. The ball blasted with pinpoint precision to the corner of the court – breaking the sound barrier as it did so.
But Ryoma was there waiting for it, and countered the Bullet Ball by using its own strength and transferring it into his return, also adding a two-handed side-spin to send it zooming past his opponents.
"Three games all, Samurai's serve," Moon said from his umpiring position. His eyes were open; shining like turquoise orbs – he was also in the third Pinnacle – he had to be to umpire the game.
"I think we are warmed up now," Sam contemplated opposite them. "Let us Level up Duke."
"Sure thing, Sammy-boy."
They both closed their eyes and breathed deeply, searching inside their souls for their animal spirits, then their stance changed, their eyes flew open to reveal an untameable cosmos of rainbow colours dancing within, but a glazed look was undeniably there too.
Ryoma exchanged a grin with Kevin. "Come on Lionheart, let's show these guys who the Super Pair are."
"Hai, buchou!"
The two closed their eyes also. Ryoma took a deep breath, centring his thoughts – clearing his head of everything else. Then he dived down into his very core, where he knew the ancient force was waiting for him. The Dragon. The beast was asleep like always, but once Ryoma had found it, he grasped the power and coaxed it out – feeling it rise up within him, filling his body, mind and soul. The green dragon's eyes snapped open, and the force flowed willingly into the racket in Ryoma's hand.
Ryoma opened his eyes. The net glittered as a thin boundary on the flat plain of the court, separating him from the other side, where two spirits were now visible. In front of Duke the shadowy shape of a black bear snarled at him, its muzzle curled back to reveal large white fangs, dripping in saliva. Hovering above Sam's racket on a wind that didn't exist was a proud hawk. Its piecing olden eyes glared at him, bronze wings beating rhythmically as it let out a shrieking challenge. The call was answered by a roar next to him. Kevin stare was wild and his mouth was open slightly as if he was the one who had roared. Emerging into existence and prowling forth onto the court from Kevin's very being was a glorious golden-coated lion.
A rumbling reverberation coursed through Ryoma, and then a snarling roar ripped through the air, silencing them all. Ryoma's dragon had awakened. It moved from Ryoma with such grace, fury, and a power the others couldn't hope to achieve. Its fore-claws would have dug into the ground, but instead it passed through the court like a ghost. Its green cat-like eyes darted from one beast to the next, its powerful muscles rippling and wings rustling with the tremendous urge to fight.
A sleeping wolf appeared in a rush of silver at the base of the umpire's chair off to the right. It woke and lifted its head slowly – blue orbs taking in the impatient creatures. With a yawn the wolf sat up and turned to look at Ryoma – its message obvious – You can start now. To an outside observer it looked like Ryoma had taken out a ball, thrown it up, and then the court simply exploded into movement, the ball disappearing from sight.
To Ryoma's point of view, he had thrown the ball up – the dragon in front of him had swivelled its head to focus on the spinning ball – then it had spread its wings and crouched, and swarmed through his racket in a blur of green, to pounce on the ball. The dragon rocketed to the other side of the shimmering net, where the bear clashed into it, roaring as it swiped the dragon, ripping the ball out of its jaws and throwing the dragon onto its side. Duke swiped his racket and the bear spirit surrounded the ball launched itself back onto Ryoma's side of the net. Kevin leapt forward, and the golden rush of his spirit met it, rising up from inside him and sinking its fangs into the bear's thick black fur.
The bear let out a bellow of pain – dispersing in a flurry of dark smoke and releasing the ball. The lion took it up and rocketed over the glittering net, only to have a screeching bird attack its eyes. The lion swiped one of its massive paws at the bird, but missed, and smashed into the ground dissolving and returning to its bearer. The hawk spirit snatched up the ball and soared over the boundary net. Ryoma rushed towards the ball and the bronze blur of its carrier, the dragon lunged ahead from within him. The hawk assembled more clearly and swerved desperately, but a set of sharp jaws snapped at its wing, slamming it into the ground. Ryoma swung and the dragon responded, coiling its body as it snarled and launched into the air – wisps of smoke escaped between its teeth. Wings unfurled, it added its power to Ryoma's shot with one forceful beat, and hurtled over the net. It saw Sam and the reassembled hawk screeching angrily, closing in fast. The dragon growled in fury and body-rolled to avoid it – sending the ball spinning away as it rapidly touched the ground, and twisted, just managing to avoid the swipe of the bear on its other side. With a furious roar of victory, the dragon let loose a jet of glowing fire, before disappearing and swarming back inside Ryoma.
Fifteen – love, was the wolf's call.
––
Ryoma and Kevin had won that game, the hawk and the bear had acknowledged their win by bowing down – and they had faded out of Level Six – all the spirits returning to their sleep. The unfortunate side-effect of this was that they took the kids consciousness with them, leaving all of them collapsed on the ground, completely worn out. The more frequently that Ryoma went into Level Six, the more he got used to it; but Level Six was dangerous to use for too long as there was no way to tell how much time had passed, or if you've been injured, or how tired you were until you returned to normal. As a rule in EST, players were not allowed to play for more then three hours at a time. If the game went over that it had to be postponed and continued at a later date. It was the referees' responsibility to ensure that the players stopped if they went over the three hour mark. There were lots of horrible stories of people who had stayed in Level Six for hours on end, and when the had finally faded back to normal, they'd fallen into a coma, or even died as the stress had been too much for their heart.
EST
Seigaku won the first round of the tournament without much trouble; they also won the second round easily. But Ryoma hadn't paid much attention to the second round; he'd been put on reserve. The final round looked more promising – they were playing Fudomine. Though Fudomine was an unseeded team, Ryoma had a feeling they would present a little more challenge for Seigaku. Kawamura and Fuji were playing doubles first against Sakurai Masaya, and doubles partner Ishida Tetsu; a hard-hitter like Kawamura.
Ryoma was sitting on the sidelines with the rest of the team, he was watched Fuji doing one of his famous Triple Counters, the Tsubame Gaeshi (or the Swallow Return) and committing it to memory. Seeing Fuji now, there was no doubt that the boy was a tensai, and the other team seemed quite worried. Fuji's move turned the tide of the game around, and now Seigaku was leading. Fuji was smiling his usual creepy angelic smile as they returned to the base. Ryoma smirked under his hat; that guy always has to make himself look good.
But on the other side a movement drew his eye, Ishida was doing something strange – he seemed to be silently communicating something to his buchou Tachibana, and a mummer of anticipation and worry was spreading through Fudomine's team. They're up to something; Ryoma narrowed his eyes slightly, and then turned his attention back to the game – watching Ishida closely. The second year seemed to be waiting on Tachibana's permission for something, Ryoma flicked his gaze back to the other team's buchou, and saw Tachibana raise one finger, and Ryoma looked quickly back at Ishida to see a quick grin flash across his features. Uh oh… Ishida's stance changed, and suddenly Ryoma realised what he was doing – crap, not good! How does this second year know that shot? Ryoma breathed in sharply when he saw Fuji getting ready to receive it.
"No, don't touch it," he murmured without realising he'd spoken aloud. The other Regulars turned to look at him in surprise.
"What's that Ochibi-chan?" Kikumaru asked his brow furrowed in confusion.
"GO ISHIDA!" yelled the supporters for Fudomine, as the ball sped towards the player.
Ryoma clenched his jaw slightly. "Hadoukyuu," he muttered. He knew what would happen now, without having to see it, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.
"uuuUURRRAAHHHH!!" Ishida slammed the ball with all his strength into a power flat shot, there was a collective gasp around the court at the force behind the ball. Ryoma saw Fuji's eyes widen in surprise, saw Kawamura sprint forward – but he was in the wrong position now – when he hit the ball he would do it from a strange angle and would quite likely hurt himself trying to save Fuji.
"FUJI, MOVE!"
"T-Taka-san?!"
Kawamura returned the ball with a strong forehand, and Ishida got ready to hit another Hadoukyuu – but the strings on his racket broke. Seigaku had got the point, but Ryoma knew they had lost this game. If they had just not touched it, they would have won…Ryoma sighed, and stood up to go get a drink.
"It's your turn senpai, good luck," he said to Oishi and Kikumaru, resisting the urge to give any advice as he wasn't their buchou.
"Eh? Echizen what do you mean?" Oishi asked, Ryoma kept walking, his hands in his pockets.
A few seconds later Fuji made Kawamura forfeit the game due to an injured wrist.
Unfortunately the vending machine was out of Ponta, so Ryoma decided to go for plain water. He stopped when he heard Kamio Akira and his friend Ibu Shinji talking about how easy it will be to defeat Seigaku while hitting two balls back and forth in front of the drink fountain. Ryoma sensed Kaidoh behind him and the freshmen trio off to the side, and made a split decision to have some fun. Hey, I'm thirsty, he thought smirking, and closed his eyes nonchalantly, walking forward with his racket shouldered.
"Hey fool, wait," Kaidoh growled in warning from behind him, as Ryoma was about to pass through the middle. Ryoma continued, hitting the balls as easily as if he were simply waving his racket about – still with his eyes closed.
"He passed right through!" Horio gasped.
"How did he do that?! He returned every ball!" Kachiro exclaimed.
The balls stopped moving as Kamio and Ibu caught them, and stared at Ryoma's back. Ryoma paid them no heed, and got his drink.
EST
The Golden Pair won the next match easily with six games to two, and then it was Kaidoh's turn. Ryoma was bored. First he'd played doubles, then he had been on reserve and it seemed to be taking forever to get to his match with that Ibu guy. Kamio had a lot of speed which seemed to shock the other Seigaku Regulars; Ryoma was just getting irritated by the guy's motto: "I'm in the rhythm." Finally after an excruciatingly long match – for Ryoma at least – Kaidoh won seven games to five.
Alright! Ryoma was inwardly pumped, it didn't really matter who he played, or what skill Level his opposition was, tennis was tennis – it was all good.
"Good luck Echizen! Bring us a win!" The Regulars cheered him on.
"Ne, ne, why is Seigaku putting a freshman in? Is this match a deliberate forfeit? He's going to suffer…" Ryoma heard Fudomine supporters saying as he walked onto the court. He chuckled, tennis is so much fun. Ibu Shinji walked onto the other side. Ryoma spun his racket in his hand waiting for the referee to say he could go, feeling the familiar sensation of excitement before a game. He decided to start this game in Level Three, since he'd heard that Ibu rivaled Fuji's skill.
Ryoma smiled, and served his Twist Serve
Whoops, it seemed he started his Level a little high, Ibu froze, and the ball flew by the boy's face. Exclamations of amazement spread through the Fudomine team. Ryoma shifted impatiently.
"Referee…" he said to the dazed official, "aren't you going to call the score?"
"Fif-Fifteen to Love!"
The first game lasted little more then a minute, Ibu seemed to be having trouble catching on. Ryoma didn't mind too much, but he did wish the guy would hurry up and actually play…
"That freshman is good!"
"Who is that guy?"
Ryoma got ready to receive Ibu's serve, and his smile widened into a grin when he saw the familiar form, so this guy can do the Twist Serve too? Finally things are getting interesting…
He shifted his stance so to return the ball with ease, unfortunately he realised too late that it wasn't exactly the same as the Twist Serve, and the ball hit the net when he countered it.
"Kick Serve," he heard Inui say, oh so it is different.
"You're still hiding something," Ibu Shinji called sounding slightly frustrated, "I can feel it."
Ryoma heard the spectators whispering, and exchanging looks as they listened in.
"What does he mean?"
"Not sure…"
Ryoma tugged on his hat to hide his smile, heeh this guy is the first one to notice.
"Okay," Ryoma tossed his racket from his right hand to his left hand. "Then let's play."
"EHH?! HE'S LEFT-HANDED!" Fudomine exclaimed.
I will never get tired of that, Ryoma smirked.
"You're a lefty?" Ibu asked flatly.
Ryoma hummed. "You're pretty good to see through my plan so early."
"You're too arrogant…" Ibu muttered. "I'll crush you."
The game started again, Ryoma easily countered the Kick Serve, and they began to rally.
"Sorry, but I don't feel like losing. The Nationals sound like a lot of fun." Ryoma used a topspin to send the ball careering by Ibu, and bounce directly on the corner. He got the point and the game continued. Ryoma ran fluently, losing himself in the game, returning every shot, and countering every smash, slice, and topspin while barely breaking a sweat. He ran towards the net, and so Ibu did a lob, Ryoma smirked, way too predicable, he was already on his way back, he jumped up flicked the ball back – scoring a point without looking.
"Who the hell is this freshman?" Kamio growled from the sidelines.
This is fun…
"He's just like his dad," Ryoma heard Ryuzaki say from the bench.
"You know Echizen's father?" asked Oishi
"Hai, Ryoma's dad was a former tennis pro," Ryuzaki replied
"Former professional tennis player?" Oishi repeated, sounding amazed. "What kind of player was he? Was he also an attack specialist like Ryoma?"
"Attack specialist, eh…?" Ryuzaki chuckled as if remembering something fond. "He didn't have 'endurance' in his vocabulary. All he knew was how to attack. He was unbelievable. He had natural tennis sense along with speed and power. Above all, he had a unique way of absorbing knowledge."
"He was that great…" Oishi breathed.
"Aa," Ryuzaki said, "He was one of those talents that come only once every ten years… matte, maybe even rarer than that. But, Echizen Nanjiro was a monster that shattered all my expectations."
"Echizen Nanjiro invented Nitouryuu by himself?" Ryoma heard Tezuka say in a serious tone.
"Yes, it wasn't just to conquer the fact that he had a weak backhand," Ryuzaki said, "top-tier players always find a way to overcome barriers like that. Ryoma's dad was one of those guys."
"Now I finally understand," Tezuka said determinedly. Ryoma listened in intently as he played Ibu.
"Nani?" Ryuzaki asked.
"The person standing on that court right now is Echizen Nanjiro," Tezuka said confidently, "his power, speed, and reflexes… all of which surpass Regular players. If we include the fact that he consistently outperforms his opponents' expectations, then Echizen's tennis style is his father's copy."
"It's rare to see you declare something like that," Ryuzaki mused.
"But, when Echizen overcomes that barrier…" Tezuka sounded as if he were talking to himself, "what will be waiting for him at the end of that tunnel?"
"Saa…" Ryuzaki closed her eyes.
Ryoma blinked, he didn't know whether to laugh or feel insulted, they think my style is a copy of that baka oyaji…? Then he remembered that he was still only playing in Level Three, oh… so that's why, hmm, I guess its true then.
The next rally started, Ryoma was barely paying attention by now, rather just immersing himself in the feeling of playing, and concentrating on not going above Level Three. It was hard sometimes to keep from accidentally going higher, if you were having too much fun, or getting too frustrated or angry, the Levels could sometimes increase by themselves. Since Ryoma didn't want people to know just how good he was yet, that was a bad thing. It was much more fun if people didn't actually know the full extent of his abilities, and also it meant that games were longer. What was the point in playing otherwise, if he just beat everyone in six minutes? Besides, it wasn't like he– Nani?
Ryoma was brought back to reality when he suddenly felt his arm go numb – the ball flew past him. Ryoma blinked… strange… he shook is arm… what the hell?
"Echizen's movement was frozen for a moment," he heard Tezuka comment to Fuji and Oishi. Well duh… Ryoma looked up at Ibu, but how did he do it? They began playing again, this time Ryoma paid more attention, was he using a special move that I missed? Or was he building up to it…? He's doing a lot of topspins and slice shots… Ah! Again!
Ryoma's arm froze again, but the ball was still coming – damn it! Ryoma narrowed his eyes and twisted his body towards the ball, he felt his control on Level Three waver into Level Four, but he didn't care – whatever that guy was doing was pissing him off.
Kuso, Ryoma felt the racket in his hand slip as his grip suddenly failed. The red racket flew from his grasp with the force of a Level Four swing, it smashed into the pole and broke in two, rebounding instantly and rocketing back–
"Ahh!"
EST
Blood dripped onto the ground in fat red drops. His hat had fallen off and was lying some meters away. Ryoma himself was on the ground, one hand covering his eye.
More blood dribbled down his arm as it overflowed from his hand. He could hear people gasping in horror, whispering and pointing with big eyes, he could visualise the girls putting their hands over their mouths, and paling, his Regular team-mates frozen in place on the bench.
"Ittai," Ryoma said in a monotone, how annoying… He used his other hand to push himself to his feet, keeping his head down so his hair covered his face. Ryoma bent over to pick up his hat again, pulling it on quickly. The whispering got louder. Ryoma dropped his arms. A cup full of blood fell out of his hand. It splashed across the court.
"Oh no! His eye is injured!"
"…there's a lot of blood…"
"Echizen!"
"That poor kid!"
"Ochibi!"
"…I think I'm gonna be sick…"
"Stop the bleeding quick!"
"Someone grab the first aid kit quickly!"
"I guess Seigaku will forfeit this game too…"
Iie, I won't give up, not when I've been waiting so long to play, Ryoma tugged his hat lower, his eyes closed against the blood. He heard some people walking towards him, and figured them to be some of the Seigaku Regulars.
"Ne, how is it?" Ryoma asked them as they neared closer.
Someone grabbed his arm gently. "Don't worry Echizen," Ryoma recognised the voice as Oishi's, "we'll get your eye fixed right up, come sit down." Oishi tried to guide him over to the bench.
Ryoma frowned. "Yadda. I meant my racket, did it completely break?" he heard Oishi stop suddenly, as if in shock.
"…Hai, it's broken completely," he identified the other person behind him as Fuji. Ryoma sighed, and allowed himself to be tugged off-court.
A few minutes later it was apparent the bleeding wouldn't stop, Ryoma was getting frustrated – he just wanted to play!
"Nya… its looks like it's really painful," Kikumaru said anxiously.
"What do you think, Oishi?" Tezuka asked his voice emotionless as always.
Oishi sounded worried. "From the looks of things… there's definitely no way this match can continue. Though… already gotten this far, ending it this way is rather disappointing." Oh, I've had enough of this, Ryoma thought irritably – Level Four was still pulsing in his veins, taunting him with every second, fuck this, I'm playing. He stood up suddenly, manoeuvring around his senpai quickly, despite having both eyes closed.
"Eh? E-Echizen! What are you doing?!" Oishi called from behind him.
"Getting my spare racket," he replied flatly.
"Nani?! Nonsense, just look at yourself!" Oishi argued.
"The best thing to do is not to act irrationally!" Inui added. "Right now all the odds are against you in this situation."
"Echizen…" that voice is Momo's, Ryoma identified, as he reached his bag and unzipped it. "It can't be that you still want to continue with the match?"
Another person was approaching. "If the bleeding doesn't stop, I'm not going to let you compete." Ah, the referee. Ryoma pulled out his spare racket, sending exhilarating tingles through his body from the familiar grip. Then he set the racket down and unzipped another pocket on the inside of his bag – pulling out a roll of bandages.
"Echizen, what are you doing?" Ryuzaki-sensei asked; he could just imagine her sitting there with her arms crossed.
"Stopping the bleeding." Before anyone could stop him he quickly took off his hat, wrapped the bandage a few times around his eyes, tied it at the back, and put his hat back on – pulling it down to cover his face. There was deafening silence around him.
Then, "Ryoma," said Ryuzaki, her voice was kinder now, and he heard he sigh, "you silly boy. What am I going to do with you? Come here." Ryoma picked up his racket and obediently moved to stand in front of her, his other senses telling him where everyone was. There was more silence for a moment, and then Ryuzaki sighed again. "Does it hurt?"
"Betsuni."
"You know, that bandage will only hold for fifteen minutes at the most?"
"Hai."
"And obviously… you know you can't see." Ryoma took this as a statement, so didn't answer.
Instead he turned around to walk back on court, and said to the referee, "If the bleeding stops, I can compete, right?"
"B-But, you…!" the referee spluttered, Ryoma kept walking. Suddenly he heard Oishi step forward and grab his shoulder to stop him.
"Echizen, you can't seriously be considering playing when you can't see!"
Ryoma turned his head to where the voice was coming from. "…Hai," he confirmed simply.
"Echizen?!"
"Oishi-senpai, you worry too much."
"Ten minutes," Tezuka suddenly spoke up, "if in ten minutes, the victor is not decided, you'll have to forfeit, understand?"
Ryoma grinned, yes! he inwardly cheered. "Hai buchou," he said, and then couldn't resist adding, "…but I bet I could do it in five." Ryoma turned back to the vice-captain. "Oishi-senpai, could you show me where the net is?" Once he knew where the net was, he would be able to work out where the boundary lines were, and thereby play as well as if he had before with his eyes open – even better in fact – as now he was in Level Four.
Ryoma walked to the serving position, and an outcry started around the court.
"The match is continuing?!"
"That shortie still wants to play?"
"Isn't that guy injured…?"
"Wha…?"
"Wait, that's a bandage around his eyes!"
"Is planning on playing blind?!"
Ryoma heard Ibu Shinji take up the receiving position on court. He knew the boy was staring at him, so Ryoma raised his head slightly to look at the place he'd heard Ibu's feet stop.
"You won't get to use your technique again," Ryoma told him coolly, "I've sealed it now. You're still Mada Mada." He had realised how Ibu was doing it just before his racket had broken. If he didn't allow the guy to hit any topspins, and kept switching hands with his racket, then it would no longer be a problem. Ryoma served with his left hand.
Pah-voom!
It shot past Ibu.
"Whoa! That guy can still hit the ball, even though he can't see!"
"Ochibi-chan isn't slowing down at all!" Ryoma heard Kikumaru say from the sideline.
"Forget slowing down," Inui said, "Echizen's pace has increased!"
Pah-vroom!
"His serve has changed…" Fuji mused.
"Sugoi… I-It's getting faster!" Momo gasped.
Pah-zoom!
"Game Seigaku, four games to two."
Ibu served next, and Ryoma leapt forward to meet it. He hit it back with a sleek flick, heard Ibu slice it – spun on his heel – switched hands, and backhanded it. Ibu's feet pounded across the court and his racket hit a cross-shot. Ryoma used the Split-step and slid stylishly behind the ball, switched hands and fore-handed it back – scoring a point. Next Ibu served again, and Ryoma countered, he heard Ibu slice it and glided to where it would hit, slamming it back with natural ease. Ibu countered it, with some trouble by the sounds of it, Ryoma switched hands – stretched his arm out behind him and flicked the ball back; in a move that mimicked one of Kikumaru's favourites.
He won that point too. The next one was faster; Ibu seemed to be letting his frustration get control of him. Ryoma hit it back twice as fast, he could feel the game of tennis flowing through him – this was his home, what he lived for – and he loved it. The wind rippled across his shirt as he jumped high, arms spread out with graceful pose, before whipping around and smashing the ball. His point.
Ryoma switched hands; he could hear Ibu breathing heavily from the other side as he served. Ryoma rapidly took two steps, fore-handing it back, Ibu sliced it to the other corner – but Ryoma was already there. He slid into place behind it, dust rising from his feet, smoothly returning the ball. Ibu gasped in shock, lunged for the ball and tried to flick it to the right top corner, Ryoma switched hands with his racket and pounced forward, sending a fast topspin before Ibu could even move.
"Game Seigaku, five games to two."
"That's strange…" Ryoma heard Ryuzaki-sensei say as he got ready to serve again.
"Nani?" Tezuka asked.
"Ryoma's play-style… it's changed…"
"What do you mean sensei?" That was Kikumaru.
"Before Ryoma's style was a copy of his father's… but now, Ryoma's playing has changed, it's more fluent – certainly more graceful then his father ever was – and he has better form too. I'm sure you all noticed the increase in power and speed as well…"
"Maybe this is Echizen-kun's real style then, maybe he's actually playing seriously," Fuji said; his voice sounded like it was contemplating something.
"Fssshhhh, what are you saying? That the brat wasn't playing seriously before?"
Ryoma smirked. "Heeeh, I never play seriously senpai," he heard the shocked gasp from the Seigaku bench as he spoke up. "Where's the fun in that?"
Kikumaru eeped. "Nya! We forgot about Ochibi-chan's super-hearing powers!" Ryoma threw the ball up and served.
Pah-doom!
It soared past Ibu again.
"Fifteen-Love!" the referee called.
Pah-floom!
"Thirty-Love!"
Ryoma heard Ibu ground his teeth in frustration. He served again.
Pah-ponk!
Ah, he returned it, Ryoma flung himself to where the ball was heading. He landed lightly and smacked it back, Ibu sliced it – Ryoma pivoted and switched hands, hitting it into the other corner. Ibu sprinted and hit it. Ryoma pivoted back again, this time hitting it into the other corner. Ibu's eyes widened and he charged to the other line, barely making it in time, but slicing it with a loud grunt.
"Whoops," Ryoma stated and smirked at Ibu from mid-jump, he'd run towards the net and flown into a long jump – easily intercepting the ball and smashing it.
"Forty-Love!"
Ibu managed to hit back his next serve too, Ryoma smiled as he switched hands and flipped the ball in a swift return. What fun… Ibu socked it back – Ryoma slid his feet around, twisting his body as he did so, and whacking the ball simultaneously. Ibu gnashed his teeth furiously, leapt and smashed the ball; Ryoma skimmed the ground as he spun on his heel, dashed across the court towards the net again, throwing himself into a roll to catch the smash in time. He sprung to his feet, revolving quickly and standing up. Ryoma paused for a second as he listened, then he shouldered his racket and smirked.
"Wha…?"
"Did you see that?"
"Where'd the ball go?"
"What happened to the ball?"
"…he rolled and stopped the smash…"
"Whose point was it?"
"…where's the ball gone?"
Pah-sssssssshhhhhh…
Behind Ibu – exactly on the line – the ball landed and spun on the spot. After a few seconds it slithered to a stop.
There was silence. Then…
"…G-Game set, match won by Seigaku, Echizen. Six games to two."
The crowd erupted into cheers, amazed comments springing back and forth as people clapped.
"Ne, buchou, ten minutes didn't pass, did it?"
Tezuka checked his watch. It had only been four minutes and thirty-nine seconds.
EST
A/N
Nya! Super-Ryoma! :D
Gomen, this one had so much tennis in it, the next one will be a little more easy-paced.
Next chapter will be up soon: Another pillar of support…?
Arigato guzaimasu!
– Mel XX
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