RAINDROPS
A Prince of Tennis Fanfic
By: weirdcoffeeholic
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. (But Ryoma Echizen is MINE.)
Author's Note: Hey, guys! Summer classes just began and I just moved into my new dorm recently. But for the first time ever, I'm allowed to bring my laptop with me, so expect faster-than-usual updates even though I have frikkin classes. So, hurrah for everyone! :D Here's another chapter for y'all and I hope you continue to support my little ficcie. :)
P.S. If you don't mind, you can check out my new and second fanfic. It's another AU story, Naruto based on Warner Bros. The Lake House. (I know, a very weird combination.) So, if you liked the movie and you're a Naruto fanatic, you can go read it. (I've only uploaded like a couple of chapters so far, kinda like a trial version. LOL.)
-oOo-
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Remembered
Ryoma Echizen listened intently to the soft howling of mid-autumn air and the crunching of crisp, green grass beneath his leather shoes. It sounded like sweet, sweet music to his ears, being stuck inside his cursed oval office most of his time ever since the late Nanjirou Echizen had passed away and the company was handed down to him. It was a refreshing sight at it even made him feel lightheaded.
He ran a calloused hand across his face and hair and let his yellow eyes rest on the empty tennis court before him. It had been a while since the last time he held a racket and stepped into the courts for a game. It was so long ago, it felt like another lifetime – a life before he got lost in a blur of dark, empty streets and a life he never knew existed.
A life before he met the one who changed everything he was.
Tiredly, he let a soft sigh escape his lips and let his breath mingle with the cold air. Ryoma felt like he was carrying a lifetime burden, a curse from a bad burn he had gotten eight years ago. It was a cut so deep it was hard not to think about it every night as he lied on his bed.
They were young. So young. Sometimes, he couldn't help but feel frustrated whenever he thought about how they could be a victim of cruel fate. All this time, he felt like she was finally the one he was looking for, but it just wasn't the right time or circumstance. He had his duties and she had her own. And in this game we call life, duties came first before feelings, emotions, or whatever intangible things.
He couldn't even forget her name no matter how hard he tried. Even during his wedding day, every single beat of his heart was calling out to her, hoping that she would burst through the chapel doors to protest, himself not able to do anything, being bound by the mercy of his father and mother. He felt so juvenile and helpless back then.
Now that he was one of the most powerful men in the country, he realized not much has changed since that lonely night in their backyard, that night he last saw those beautiful brown eyes and silky hair, the soft, sweet-smelling skin, the woman who never failed to take his breath away. The boy who loved her eight years ago was the same man who was standing alone in the very same backyard. Indescribable warmth spread through his chest at the thought of her.
Ryoma slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat and took a last look at the tennis court where he and his brother used to have their heated matches. Ryoga, he thought casually. I wonder where you are now… Running away, maybe you've done right all these years, and I just didn't know it—
His cell phone went off, disturbing the seemingly unbreakable silence that surrounded him. Ryoma slowly took it out, flipped it open, and placed the speaker on his ear.
Fuji's voice was on the other line. "Mr. Echizen," he greeted. "I know you said you didn't want to be disturbed, but—"
"Cut to the chase, Syuusuke," Ryoma interjected irately. He could imagine Fuji wincing at his sharp voice.
"I'm sorry to interrupt but your wife wanted to remind you about lunch," he said. "I believe you made plans."
Shit. Ryoma cursed silently as he remembered what his personal secretary had told him. I don't wanna see that woman right now. "Okay, tell her I'll be up in ten minutes," he replied stiffly, flipping his phone close after his last word.
He took one final look at his safe haven before he started walking back towards the mansion.
-oOo-
Sleepily, Sakuno Ryuuzaki tried in vain to pry her eyes open to look at the dark, early morning side street before her. Her face was dangerously close to the windshield has her hands grasped the steering wheel with brute force. It scared Kesuke a little to see his mother like this, nevertheless, it was a normal scene whenever he asked her to drive him to school early.
"Are you sure there are people this early, honey?" she asked Kesuke, who was sitting quietly in the passenger seat clutching his loyal duffel bag.
Kesuke made a weird noise and fidgeted. For once, let your mother-instincts be numb. "Yeah," he said as he looked out the window and on to the blur of their suburban neighborhood. "I'm going to meet up with my friends in the library early to do finishing touches on our science project." What a lame excuse.
Sakuno shook her head lightly as she stepped on the brake pedal. The car rounded before slowing to a stop at the deserted entrance of Youth Garden elementary school. Not a single person was in sight and it looked alien without the hustle and bustle of school children.
Without looking at his mother, Kesuke quickly got off the SUV and heaved the heavy sports bag on his shoulder. "Bye, mom! See you later!" he yelled back as he sprinted towards the entrance hall.
"Hey!" Sakuno called after her son. "You forgot something!" She smiled at Kesuke, leaning her face closer to the open window across from her.
The young boy froze in his spot and turned around slowly. He then trudged back to the vehicle and gave Sakuno a peck on the cheek. "Love you, Mom," he whispered with a shy smile, his wet, black-green hair sticking to forehead, fresh from the shower. And I'm sorry for what I'm about to do.
"I love you too, honey," she said, kissing Kesuke on the forehead. "Take care, okay?"
He gave her another small smile. "I will," Kesuke said as he walked towards the open gates of the school. "Bye!"
-oOo-
"Hey, are you okay?"
Ryoma lifted his golden feline eyes from his unfinished plate to meet blue ones that were staring at him with confusion. He appeared restless, like a captured lion in a cage he was trying to escape from. "What?" he asked, uncertain.
Hanna gave him an exasperated expression. Her bright orange hair was in a tight bun on the back of her head like it always was. "I thought you like Japanese food," she told him as she looked at Ryoma across the table. You're always like this when we go out. "You hardly touched your plate at all. Look, if you wanted something less oriental, you could've just told me."
With a sigh, he put down his chopsticks and looked at the woman in front of him. His lips were pressed flatly together as though he was trying not to say something. "It's fine," he said as he placed his two fingers on his temple. "I just feel a migraine coming up."
"Well, do you want an Advil or something?" she asked him, reaching into her purse.
Ryoma gritted his teeth. "No!" he said a little louder than he intended it to. Hanna jerked slightly at the tone of his voice. "I'm sorry, I've been… lacking sleep for the past days."
You're always full of excuses, Ryoma. Hanna rolled her eyes and scoffed mentally. I know you don't want this marriage, but you could at least pretend that you're trying to make it work. "Well, what do you want?" she asked him again, trying to keep her cool as she downed her sake in one gulp.
"Echizen-sama, daijōbu desu ka?"
Ryoma looked up to a smiling Asian waitress who was refilling his glass of wine. "Yes, I'm okay," he replied in fluent Japanese as he rubbed the side of his head. He then turned to Hanna. "I'm gonna step outside. I need fresh air."
His wife gave a nonchalant shrug as she took out her phone and eyed it casually. Fresh air. That's a pathetic excuse. "Go ahead," she said monotonously.
Ryoma got up from his seat and headed directly towards the exit of the restaurant.
-oOo-
"Okay, you know how this works. When your name is called out, please raise your hand."
Eiji Kikumaru ran over the list of names and called out a roll call one last time. When he was sure that everyone was present, he slipped the piece of paper into his back pocket and clapped his hands together merrily. Curious, wide eyes looked up to him and little heads were peaking out from behind the seat backs of the minibus.
"I can see you're all excited!" he exclaimed. "And we're so honored to have Atty. Kunimitsu Tezuka and Shuichiro Oishi along with us!" Eiji waved a hand towards the two men, one with a cold, stern look and glasses and the one with very short, black hair, who were quietly sitting at the back, surveying the twenty or so children with well-trained eyes.
Everyone turned their heads around to take a peek before gazing back at Eiji, who was babbling incessantly about the tour for the past hour.
"…As a kid, the Echizen Mansion was my playground. My father was one of the great Nanjirou Echizen's followers and was an avid fan of tennis and he always took me to work with him because we couldn't afford a babysitter. I hope you troopers will enjoy our visit here. As you may all know, the Echizen Mansion is the home of the prestigious Nitoryuu Tennis Company, makers of quality tennis supplies that most of you young tennis players use today. It's also the founder of our very own school, yet many of our students are oblivious to that…"
Kesuke propped his chin on his hand and looked out the window with insouciance that would've reminded his mother of someone she once knew. He misted the glass with warm breath and drew a roughly-sketched tennis ball with a finger. He couldn't stop thinking about the permission slip he forged. It was a miracle Captain Tezuka fell for it. He was usually the type who wouldn't be fooled but that kind of stuff, but here he was, sitting comfortably in the bus like any other kid whose parent had consciously let them join this field trip.
He then came up with a conclusion. Yeah, I'm dead when Mom finds out about this, he thought disturbingly. That is if she finds out! a naughty little voice in his head added. Something told Kesuke it wasn't his conscience. She'd probably ground me forever or something.
The weird this was, ever since Kesuke learned how to play tennis, which was when he was about four or five years old, he wanted with all his might to enter the doors of the mysterious, white house look-a-like manor of the Echizens. He wanted to meet the geniuses behind the rackets that every tennis player would die to have. Its sleek, aerodynamic design which would make hitting a tennis ball easy with pinpoint precision, its light-weight, yet very sturdy aluminum, the scratchproof shaft…
Kesuke let out a sigh as he mentally admired the brilliance and beauty of Nitoryuu tennis rackets. The bus shook a little as the tires hit a bump on the road. It brought his back to his senses and took in the opportunity to pay attention for once.
"…Another trivia. Did you guys know that in order to work for Nitoryuu, one must not only be an experienced office worker, but also be an experienced tennis player? Yes, that's true! The Echizen's personal assistant, Syuusuke Fuji, was once a feared tennis player in Japan. And that's just the assistant! Have you guys ever seen one of Nanjirou Echizen's games?! Man, that guy is wicked! During his younger years here in America, he was well-known by his nickname "The Samurai" and bagged all games he played! Amazing! And don't let me get started on his youngest son, the current CEO of the company. Ryoma Echizen, better known as "Samurai Junior," was a very promising tennis player when he was a kid. He sadly hung up his racket to follow his father's footsteps when The Samurai passed away seven years ago…"
Scoffing, Kesuke pressed his lips together to stop a smirk that was tugging at the edge of his lips. The tour guide looked like he could use a breath or two. He was telling his inquisitive club mates everything he knew about this company and the enthusiasm was almost unbearable to watch without cracking up. His male pride had gotten to him again.
Tch, he thought smugly. Samurai Junior, huh? I'd bet my allowance I can beat that guy any day.
-oOo-
It was a very typical day at The Coffee Grinder. And it was a typical lunch break for two particular women.
Tomoka Osakada eyed her best friend with narrowed eyes. It was a penetrating, examining gaze and Sakuno felt like she was being stripped or X-rayed. She quickly returned the gesture and glared at Tomoka without blinking, biting into her clubhouse sandwich as she did so.
"What's with the look?" Sakuno finally asked when her eyes started to sting.
Tomoka shrugged and swirled the cappuccino in her hands. "Nothing," she started, snapping out of her trance. "I've just been thinking about how I never get sick of your face after seeing it for the past, what, twenty years."
Sakuno gave the other woman a slightly disgusted look. "Oh God, don't tell me you're a lesbian," she mocked a surprised tone and covered her mouth with a hand.
Accidentally spitting out some of her coffee, Tomoka kicked her in the shin. "Ha ha ha. Very amusing." she said as she rolled her eyes. "It's just that… I suddenly realized that we're getting old."
"What the—" It was Sakuno's turn to spit out her drink. "What are you saying? We're, like, thirty-one! Have some optimism! You know what they say, 'Life begins at thirty.' And we're just starting to taste what life really is."
"Yeah, that's what geriatric people tell themselves when they go into the 'denial stage,'" Tomoka snapped back, her fingers mimicking quotation marks in the air as she said the last two words.
Sakuno rolled her brown eyes. "What?" she asked with a soft laugh. Ha! Suddenly, an idea lit up in her head. "I know what you need!" she said bubbly, her expression bright.
"What."
"A boyfriend."
Tomoka cleared her throat a little too loudly as if trying to emphasize a point. "Uhm, Sakuno," she said pointedly. "As you can see, I've dumped every single guy I went out with. Shit, I can't believe I actually dated that uni-brow, Horio. God, he's so annoying. All he talks about is himself, the Times, himself… What an egotistical, self-centered bastard."
Sakuno couldn't help but chuckle. "Isn't that the reason why you didn't want me to date him back in the olden days?" She raised an eyebrow at her friend.
"Don't remind me."
The other woman laughed again. You haven't changed a bit at all since the first time a met you. I wonder how you can be such a bitch and such a softy at the same time all these years…
After some time, Tomoka then looked up from her empty mug. "How about you?" she asked casually.
Sakuno's eyes rounded. "Huh?" she said with uncertainty. "What about me?"
"I mean, did you ever find yourself wanting to settle down with someone, like, for good?" Tomoka said.
It was like something invisible grasped Sakuno's throat as she heard the question. It took her a few more moments to find the words to say. She unconsciously touched the diamond ring around her finger. "Well, yeah, I did, once before," she said as something indescribable spread through her chest. "But right now I'm way too happy with my little man."
Tomoka smiled. But her expression withered again. "He's gotten so big," she said, finishing what was left of her donut. "Hey, Sakuno?"
"Yeah?" She tore her gaze from the window beside her.
Her friend heaved in a deep breath as if she were submerging into an unfathomable ocean. "I'm just curious… Has Kesuke ever asked about his father?" she whispered softly.
Sakuno felt a pang in the same spot where she felt something warm a while ago. But it was just a small one, like a needle prick. Although she couldn't deny the fact that she couldn't ignore it. "So far, he hasn't," she answered truthfully, knowing that Tomoka was her secret-keeper. She could tell her anything and trust her with whatever she holds dear. "But I know, someday, he will."
"What do you plan to tell him?" Tomoka asked, her eyes full of concern that looked alien to her usually snobbish face.
Shrugging, Sakuno looked at the Picasso imitation painting behind Tomoka's head. "I don't know," she said. An image of black-green hair and yellow eyes flashed through her head. It was so fast she barely noticed it. "Maybe, I'd tell him his dad died in a car crash or something. Something that doesn't make him ask for more details."
"Good luck with that," Tomoka said. "Your kid's way too curious to ever let something like that pass him by. Did you know that one time when you brought him to work with you, he started snooping around in my office and he actually caught me and Horio making out in the bathroom—"
"WHAT?!"
"Yeah, seriously, his head just peeked out of nowhere and—"
Sakuno waved a hand in front of Tomoka's face disbelievingly. "No! You actually made out with Satoshi Horio and you never told me?! How could you? We've been telling each other everything since middle school!"
Tomoka gave her friend a sheepish grin. "Well, I kinda forgot to mention that to you," she said, scratching the back of her head, embarrassed. "I had a couple drinks the previous night and had a bad hangover. C'mon, Sakuno, you'd think I'd make out with that stupid excuse for a man in my right state of mind?"
The other woman broke out into shaking laughter.
All Tomoka could do was pout.
I take that back. You've changed. A lot.
-oOo-
That was way too close for comfort.
Kesuke pressed his back into the concrete fence that surrounded the mansion and slowed down his breathing to avoid being heard. He could feel blood pounding in his head as he slowly sneaked his way closer to what looked like a terrace with an open window above his head.
He had always been a very curious kid all his seven-year-old life and he often tried to bend the rules as much as possible just to feel different. This was a good time as any and he grabbed the opportunity like there was no tomorrow. His sharp eyes landed on the group of children, clad in school jackets, which was walking farther and farther into the opposite direction, eventually disappearing into one of the many distant indoor tennis courts in the estate.
I can't stand this boring tour any longer, he thought to himself. It's time for some real action.
Kesuke listened intently to the tour guide's voice very animated voice as it diminished into a whisper till he could hear nothing. They were probably well inside the mini-arena. Alright. It was safe to come out.
He slowly stepped out of the shadows and into the midday sun, brushing himself off the dust and twigs that had clung on his jersey. He then readjusted the strap of his messenger bag. What he was doing was pretty risky and he realized could be thrown off the varsity team what he just did. But he didn't care. He wasn't going to let this break past him. It was too sweet of a temptation to go snooping around. He even brought his camera with him.
Judging by the chaperones and the number of kids, I'd say I just bought myself an hour or two before they find out I'm gone and go look for me, he thought, looking at the glittering marble fountain in the center of the grand garden. I'll just tell them I got lost 'cause they were walking way too fast. Lame.
Kesuke's eyes then fell on the terrace he noted a few minutes ago. The tour guide said it was the office of no less the CEO himself if he was not mistaken. That was what had started the spark in him. The name had slipped out of his tongue. Heck, he didn't even know what the initials CEO meant. But the guy was important. That was a good enough reason for him.
The terrace was about ten or so feet above him, about twice his mother's height. The surface of the mansion was made of smooth marble like the one they used in the fountain, and it looked like it was lined with real gold. It ruled out his plan of climbing up. There were no visible fire escape ladders either. But Kesuke hadn't come unprepared.
He dropped his bag to the floor and started rummaging through its content until he found something that resembled an innocent hairdryer, only it had a giant hook protruding from its nozzle and a gun trigger. It was his entry for the science fair that took place the previous year. His invention had proved itself useless until now. Kesuke aimed it at the thick handrail around the terrace and smirked.
Nothing is safe from me.
-oOo-
Ryoma Echizen willed himself not to break anything that was in a five-mile radius even though he very much wanted to. He growled mentally, not wanting to startle the maids who were running to and fro from room to room. This was supposed to be my day. My day, he repeated as stopped himself from smashing a giant, antique mirror which he just passed by into smithereens.
First, his 'alone' time was disrupted by his ever-so-faithful personal assistant even when he specifically said that no one, repeat, no one should ever disturb him during his 'alone' time for whatever reason. Were a couple of hours for himself way too much for people around him to stop bugging him? Was it too much to ask?
Second, the lunch with his wife went as well as orange juice with coffee creamer. She was such an annoying woman that the more he saw her, the more he didn't want to see her. And that made sense to Ryoma, being married for almost a decade to someone he barely even gave a thought about.
Third, he had to fight tooth and nail to convince the body guards that he did not need an escort when walking from his limousine and back into his office. It took a considerable amount of time to convince them that he had grown up in this God-forsaken manor and that he knew this place like the back of his hand. Thirty-one years of living and people still treated like he was this 5-year-old who needed training wheels for his bike. It made him frustrated to no end.
Fourth… No, there was no fourth. And Ryoma silently thanked the heavens for that. If anyone – or anything – ever got on his nerve again, he swore he would break whatever or whoever it was in half and crush the remnants into confetti.
Breathe. Don't forget to breathe.
He slowly did an inhale-exhale.
Fuck, I act like I'm a girl having PMS or something, he suddenly realized as he was about to reach for the doorknob of his double doors. But something had stopped him midway.
He heard the sound of rustling inside his office. There was no doubt about it.
The maids probably forgot to close the window when I left, he remembered. Fuji never goes inside this room when I'm not around not unless I tell him to, he thought, slowly taking hold of his pocket handgun inside his coat. Secretly carrying firearms around was a habit he got from his psycho of a mother.
His senses heightened automatically. Okay, make this the fourth.
There were quick, soft footsteps which sounded like they were made by small feet and a slightly louder 'thump' like something quite heavy was dropped to the floor. He then heard the same rustling sound again.
Ryoma snorted derisively at whomever it was that was infiltrating his office. Talk about stealth. If you were someone worth shooting, you'd have better sneakiness. He gripped his handgun with both hands tighter and placed his forefinger on the trigger, ready to pull just in case it was indeed someone threatening. He had on a bulletproof vest like he always did whenever he went out. Taking his stance, he raised the gun and kicked the double doors open.
-oOo-
Author's Annoying Note: Hey, guys! Hmm… I wonder who Ryoma just pointed a gun at? :D I just love cliffhangers even when it's so damn obvious what the next part is. Thank you for those who loyally read and reviewed. I love you all. Till next chapter. Tata! :)