Oyazz! Back from Camp! It was Great! But we got scolded a lot cos we couldn't do the moves right… owell, nevah mind, it's over anyway…

Another chapter!

And 30+ reviews! Ehehehe. I'm so happy

Oh and Ryoga does not appear much in the story for a reason (*hint**hint*) but I guess he'll have to… probably sometime later.

Well, I hope you enjoy this!


Friday, the last day of the school week. Ryoma took his time packing his things, knowing full well that a certain someone would stop him from getting home anyway.

Or someone's.

"Hoi hoi! Let's get Ochibi to practice nya!"

Having Eiji fetch him was worse than Fuji, and that, was saying something.

"Ei… Eiji-sama," the blonde girl stuttered, "what are you… I a big fan… Can I have your autograph?"

Having the entire tennis team come was a complete disaster.

"Hmm, Echizen, come with us."

Dumping the last of his papers into the bag, Ryoma grabbed its handle and stormed out of the class. They were embarrassing him, not that it mattered, but he would be cornered by salivating fangirls tomorrow, and that, was to say the least, undesirable.

"Let's go." Ryoma said stiffly, crossing his arms and taking off down the corridor.

"So uncute, nya," Eiji said, chasing after the boy. A loud 'oomf' was heard a few moments later, and the team took liberty to increasing their pace slightly.

What they saw caused even Tezuka to raise his eyebrows.

"ARRGH! GERROFF MEE!" Ryoma was thrashing about on the floor.

"AHH! HELP! I'M STUUCK!" Eiji had his collar caught on one of Ryoma's buttons.

Fuji could not help but chuckle, "Saa… Eiji, don't think just because no one's here that you can…"

"AHHHH! IDIOT EIJI! DON"T TEAR IT!"

After a few minutes of struggling and shouting, they managed to dislodge a disheveled Eiji from a traumatized Ryoma, who looked as if he would never set foot near Eiji ever again in his life. Panting, faces red, the two sat three metres away from each other, Ryoma glaring at Eijii venomously, and Eiji massaging his neck.

"Oow, that hurts!"

The rest of the team, were either trying to help but failing miserably by bursting into sudden peals of laughter, or doing nothing at all.

Fuji, fell into the latter category, in fact he seemed to be clearly enjoying himself. Ryoma was about to make a cutting remark to Eiji about the uniform when he stopped. It was a gift. He turned instead to face the team.

"What? You're not going to do anything?"

"Oh, sorry." Stretching out a hand, Inui pulled Ryoma to his feet. He dusted himself off, relieved to find that the corridor was still empty. Muttering curses and threats to his "friends", he took off.

"Hmm, I never knew Echizen had such colorful language…"

"Hey! Echizen! We have practice!"

Ryoma turned his head, "I know," he walked off, rubbing his slightly sore stomach.

Fuji frowned. Ryoma didn't seem like the kind of person to walk out of a deal.


How annoying. Stupid senpai. Stupid locker. He punched the metal door. He had forgotten the combination again. No amount of insults or blows would convince the door to magically unlock on its own. Finally, with no other choice, he left for the custodian.

He could make out the sound of whacking tennis balls as he walked past the open windows. Flipping his head to face the opposite direction, he willed his ears to block out the sound.

"Again?" the custodian almost shouted in exasperation, "Write it down somewhere!"

"But I lost paper I wrote it on!"

"Then tell someone!"

"But then that person will tell everyone! And you know the combination."

Hunching his shoulders in defeat, the poor custodian took out the yellow binder and flipped through the pages.

"13-05-27."

"13-05-27," repeated Ryoma, just to be sure.

"Yeessss! Now please leave! I want to go home!"

Geez, he sounds like a kindergartener on the first day of school.

Scribbling down the combination on a slip of paper, he tucked it into his pocket.

Strolling down the mercifully empty corridors, he tried not to look at the tennis players in the court again. He sighed. This stupid school was making him get a relapse. He had thought he'd quit tennis for good.

Referring to the torn notebook page in his hand, Ryoma entered the combination into the lock. To his relief, the door swung open.

And Ryoma realized where his sheet of paper had gone to the first time.

"Fuji…" He growled. His locker had been given an extreme makeover, and he knew exactly who the culprit was. Pulling the mirror and cuckoo clock off the door, he slammed the door shut without taking his books out.

To add to his misery, he had locked the combinations into his locker as well.

"You, are so dead." He growled menacingly.


"FUJI SYUUSUKE! I'M GONNA CHOP YOU INTO MINCED MEAT AND STUFF YOU INTO PIG INTESTINES!" (A/N this is the way traditional Chinese sausages are made, no kidding)

"Looks like someone's angry…" Eiji sang.

"Hey! You can't just run in and disturb prac…" Ryoma turned to the boy speaking, and he immediately shrank down and ran off. Ryoma had a scary look in his eyes.

"Sorry Ryoma-kun, I thought you forgot our little agreement."

"DO I LOOK LIKE I'M 70?"

"No, but you do tend to forget things. And that's so ageist Ryoma…"

"I DO NOT FORGET THINGS!" Ryoma hollered, completely forgetting the event that just occurred ten minutes ago.

"Well, I thought maybe you needed a little push!" he grinned mischievously and whipped out a camera. The shutter fluttered once. Twice.

"ARRGH!"

"Yep, just like that! You look so cute Ryoma!"

Ryoma made a blind swipe at the camera, which only succeeded in getting two more snapshots of himself. Sighing in resignation, he stared into the camera blankly.

"Oh well, it's not fun anymore. Anyway, now that you're here, come watch practice!" Fuji pulled Ryoma towards the regulars courts. Too tired and too hoarse to retaliate, Ryoma allowed himself to be led away.

"Everyone! Ryoma's here again!" Fuji called out cheerfully. Seating Ryoma on the wooden bench, he set off to join the other regulars, only to be called out by Tezuka and assigned to thirty laps.

I should take lessons from him. Unzipping his bag again, he took out the day's homework and started on math, again. Math helped him to clear his mind from all other annoyances, mainly because it was the biggest annoyance on earth.

The distance of a person from a tower is 100 m and the angle subtended by the top of the tower with the ground is 30o. Find the height of the tower in meters.

After a moment of careful speculation, Ryoma scribbled down the answer. He frowned. It didn't feel right. Whipping out his calculator, he redid all the calculations, only to find that he had missed a '0'. Rubbing out the previous answer viciously, Ryoma penned down his final answer.

Unbeknownst to him, a single blue eye was watching him intently through a viewfinder. Ryoma returned to the rest of the Trigonometry questions, feeling a bit stupid as he did the exact same calculations over and over again.

"USE YOUR DUNK SMASH MOMO!" A loud shout brought Ryoma's head snapping upward, as he turned just in time to see a spectacular smash from his violet haired senpai.

"Don!"

Ryoma raised his eyabrows. Hey, Momo-senpai isn't bad… He continued to watch the game, homework virtually forgotten. Seeing Ryoma finally interested, Fuji stepped closer.

"That was Momo's famous dunk smash. Is it good?"

"He's not bad." Ryoma replied nonchalantly.

"Hmmm?"

"I've seen better."

"Really…"

The game went on for another five minutes, until Momoshiro finally emerged as the winner.

"Sorry kid, better luck next time!" He rummaged through his bag for a bottle, "So, Echizen, what do you think?"

Ryoma smirked, "Not bad, but in terms of technique you are still mada mada."

"WHAT? Did I not impress you with my awesome skills?"

"No," Ryoma replied shortly, "Nice smash you got there though."

Momoshiro's face broke into a smile, "It is, isn't it?" he said pompously.

Ryoma didn't reply, turning his attention back to the problematic paper on his lap.

"So, you said you play tennis?" Momo tried to make conversation.

"Somewhat," Ryoma made his usual reply to the question.

"You want a game?" Momo asked cheekily.

"No," he had a bored look on his face, "lost interest."

Fuji furrowed his brows. Lost interest, huh? I wonder… Making his way to the court, he whispered something to the captain.

"What? Now?"

The brunette nodded.

Tezuka frowned.

Fuji stared.

Tezuka sighed and picked up his racquet.

Fuji grinned triumphantly.

Momo wondered what Fuji was up to now.

"Momo! Help us keep score!"

"Okay!" He shot up towards the chair.

Ryoma ignored this exchange, choosing, instead, to devote his mind to a particularly infuriating graph.

The game begun, and the smacking of tennis balls was really getting to Ryoma's nerves. He could not concentrate. Lifting his head to make a snide remark, he saw Fuji, eyes wide open and fierce, and Tezuka, still as determined as ever. These were no ordinary players. He could tell. Ryoma was captivated.

And he wasn't the only one. It seemed like the entire club and remaining parts of the school was also watching. Ryoma could hear whispers behind him.

But neither of them were playing to their full potential, Tezuka wasn't even panting. How boring… As if to prove him wrong, Fuji lowered his racquet. And he hit the ball.

The yellow tennis ball soared through the air, and landed. Not much difference. And then it rolled.

Ryoma blinked. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Then his eyes widened, and he smirked. So that's what it was, huh?

"Was that the Tsubame Gaeshi?"

"Yes I think so."

"Wow, he really is a Tensai!"

Tensai?

Exited whispers were erupting behind him, and one overenthusiastic fan screamed, "GO FUJI!"

Watching the yellow ball, motionless against the green court, Ryoma was gripped by a sudden desire to pick up Momo's fallen racquet at his feet. I want to play! He was clenching his fist, his heart unconsciously racing as he watched the game progress.

A drop shot. Ryoma eyes were filled with excitement as he awaited Fuji's next move. He was disappointed. Fuji didn't move at all. The ball, however, rolled towards the net. Ryoma clutched the paper in his hands, crumpling it. I want to play! He watched as Fuji's smash suddenly cut to the right. I want to play! Tezuka seemed to have already predicted this, and moved just as quickly.

Fuji cut a quick glance at his new interest. He was pleased with what he saw. Ryoma had his full attention devoted to the game, and a determined smile adorned his face. His golden, cat-like eyes were watching intently. How he wanted his camera right then.

Fuji smiled. His job was done. Strolling off the court, he was met with indignant cries and calls to continue playing. Tezuka, on the other side of the court, did not seem at all perturbed, and he packed up as well.

What? Why did he stop? Ryoma wanted to see more, and that was hardly enough to satisfy him. He stared once again at the racquet on the ground. He resisted the temptation to jump up and challenge the two of them to a match. For Ryoga? But dad asked me to come because of tennis… Ryoma shook the conflicting thoughts out of his head. He wasn't going to play. He returned to the wrinkled paper. The questions did not seem to register in his mind as the techniques from the match replayed in his head. Tsubame Gaeshi huh? What is the value of y when x is 3.5, assuming that it intersects… More spin, slices… y=3x2+5x-7…

The jumble of math and tennis in his head succeeded in getting him sufficiently dizzy, and he laid his head back on the bench. I don't know what to do anymore… A pair of devious blue eyes saw this. Fuji strode up to the boy, and was surprised to find him in a state of utter confusion.

"So, boring…?" Fuji teased. Ryoma's eyes snapped open, and he stared at his senpai with newfound respect.

"No…" he said slowly, as if just realising the truth. Fuji picked up Momo's racquet.

"I'm sure Momo won't mind if you use his racquet." He dropped it into Ryoma's lap.

Ryoma glared at Fuji. Holding the racket in his one hand, he stood up and walked in Momo's direction.

Seeing that the boy needed more than just gentle persuasion, Fuji took a tennis ball from the bench and flung it, hard, in Ryoma's direction.

Almost immediately, Ryoma raised the racquet, and moved his head a few inches to the left. The ball whizzed past his ear and hit the racquet. Upon impact, the racquet was lowered. All this happened in the space of a few seconds, and Ryoma stared at the racquet in genuine shock.

Saa… so he did it unconsciously…

Fuji eyed the freshman in interest. He was sure that the boy could play tennis. And he was proven right. The rest of the team, however, had no such preconception, and they all started whispering all at once.

"Ochibi! You can play tennis nya?" Ryoma dodged this running packet of enthusiasm, and inched sideways off the court, dropping the racquet at his feet, much to the annoyance of Momoshiro.

"Hey! Echizen!"

Ryoma stood, blinking, the consequences of his actions just registering in his head. Uh oh

"ECHIZEN! YOU WANT A GAME?" Momoshiro was gesticulating wildly. Ryoma looked at the racquet, then at the court, then the tennis balls, then the net, then Tezuka, then the regulars, then Fuji.

And all at once, all remaining logic in Ryoma evaporated as his mind fixed on a single thought. Tennis.


(A/N I'm not that cruel as to leave it hanging there…)

Ryoma clutched the racquet handle, an uncharacteristically firm expression.

A game? I wonder…

Ryoma stood slightly bent forward on the court.

"Smooth." He drawled.

"Better luck next time!" Momoshiro picked up Oishi's racquet and threw the ball into the air. The ball was hit to the ground with abnormal force.

Sprinting in the direction of the ball, Ryoma hit a lob back towards the baseline.

"A lob? He's going to die…"

Momoshiro hit his dunk smash. Heh, just as predicted… Ryoma turned to watch the ball rolling off the court. There was a glint in his eyes.

On purpose?

Ryoma was thrilled. He hadn't played a tennis match in ages. It was his serve now. He didn't want to hold back. He was playing for the first time in god knows how long. Throwing the ball into the air, he hit it, hard, pulling his racquet downwards as he did so. As Momoshiro positioned himself to hit the ball, he was surprised by a sudden yellow blur hurtling towards his face.

"What the—" the violet haired tennis player instinctively turned to dodge the ball. As he turned to face his formidable opponent, he was greeted with an astonishing sight.

Ryoma was panting, not because of exhaustion, but excitement. He wore a face of sheer ecstasy, as he shook his green locks out of his face.

"Mada mada dane." (A/N oh glorious phrase)

A chilling silence descended upon the regulars as they watched the match advance to its climax. None of them dared say a word.

The freshman continued to astonish the regulars.

Twist serve? Drop volley?

And then he paused. He flung the racquet into his left hand.

Echizen Ryoma, you never cease to amaze me…A left hander?

"Wait, time! That's enough, let's stop this game. I'll let you go with this, heh," (A/N Okay, basically a replay of the manga)

"What? NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Eiji's wail resounded through the entire school.

"Saa…"

"Fshuuu"

"data…"

"If only your ankle wasn't injured, I could have played more you know," Ryoma said.

"So you know the whole time, huh."

"Mada mada dane." (A/N starting to get a bit cliché…)

"Hey! Don't go easy on me next time!"

Ryoma ignored him and picked up his bag. As he left the courts, he turned around and blew a loud, wet raspberry.

"ARRGH! You make me so mad!"

Echizen Ryoma, you are one enigmatic freshman


AND that's don! (geddit, a pun there)

Sorry, I'm a bit wonky at the moment… and I hope all my comments in the form of authors notes in the middle didn't impede the progression of the story!

Well then, nothing much more to say now …

I'm sorry if there are some spelling or grammar mistakes! I proofed it twice but…

Haha, almost 35 reviews now!

Luvluvluv

MC