Warmth

By KRYSTAL

251204

Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis.

A/N: This isn't much, but I hope you guys enjoy it. Merry Christmas everyone, and have a blessed New Year!

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Callused fingers reached out and closed the door behind him as the slender figure exited the house. Ryoma Echizen stared blankly at his surroundings as he walked out onto the street, shoving his hands into the deep recesses of his pockets, realizing that he had forgot, once again, to bring his gloves out.

Christmas… Who cares about Christmas? Wonder boy scowled as he nearly slipped on the fresh layer of ice on the pavement.

His family weren't Christians or Catholics -- that much was obvious seeing that his father was a monk and that they lived right behind a temple. Therefore, it came as no surprise that they didn't put much effort into celebrating the festive season.

Somehow seeing the streets and homes decorated in green and red and seeing everyone's happy faces around him put him in a rather unpleasant mood.

His father was at home reading -- what else -- hentai magazines, his mother was out of town and his cousin was staying over at her boyfriend's house leaving him… him.

The tawny-eyed boy tightened the scarf around his throat, lifting his head to stare at the sky. It had snowed throughout the night, leaving the town covered in a layer of white, clean snow. Thank goodness it had stopped. The young tennis prodigy didn't think he would be able to tolerate the constant falling of cold particles constantly falling onto him.

He walked aimlessly through several streets, pausing only to peer into several sports shops and a ramen store. He really should have been more prepared before he left the house. First his gloves, now his wallet. The green-haired junior-to-be sighed and came to a halt, realizing that he had subconsciously made his way towards the street courts. They were undoubtedly empty. Everyone knew outdoor tennis and winter simply didn't go together. Still, that had never stopped him or his father from playing their daily matches.

He contemplated for a second -- only for that short second -- before turning and running up the steps, slipping twice along the way but never stopping. Many years of balance training really paid off, huh.

As usual, his intuition was spot-on. The courts were totally deserted.

He shivered as he walked onto the courts, a blast of cold air sweeping the empty place. Reaching out, he placed a bare hand onto the net, feeling the familiar texture of plastic beneath his palm. A small smile graced his lips as he vaulted over the waist-high net.

This was peace. For him, the tennis courts were the most comfortable place to be in, no one could beat him here. This was his domain and no one could change that -- not even Tezuka Kunimitsu and Atobe Keigo.

Christmas depression gone, he moved towards the benches at the side and sat down, blowing hot air onto his freezing hands.

"Cold?"

It was a very soft and gentle voice, like a soft breeze in the harsh chill of the winter season. The youth could have easily dismissed it as part of his imagination if it weren't for the fact that that never happened to him. Ever.

Jumping up, he spun around and easily found the speaker.

Tall and slender with a sleepy expression and a cap of honey-coloured curls. What was his name again?

"Who are you?"

"Eh… You don't remember me?" Those wide eyes looked surprised. "I'm Jirou! From Hyotei!"

"Oh. The one that Fuji-sempai thrashed."

"Yep!" The blonde grinned, even as Echizen's eyebrow started twitching half in amusement and half in wry amazement.

"And you can still be so happy about it?"

"Hmmm? Why not? Fuji is an amazing player!"

"Che."

Jirou looked questioningly at him, tilting his head to the side as he scratched his head and smiled sheepishly.

"I forgot to bring my scarf. I fell asleep here and it's really cold."

"Baka."

The Hyotei player simply laughed and flopped down on the seat beside him, yawning widely as he leaned back to stare at the sky.

"The sky is really pretty…" Jirou murmured, reaching a hand out as though he were about to grab hold of the blue sky. "Ne, Ryoma-kun, what are you doing along on Christmas?"

"Aren't I with you now?"

"That's true," the golden-haired narcoleptic smiled, turning alert chocolate eyes to face him.

Echizen frowned and lightly smacked the older boy on the back of his head. "Stop staring."

"Why?"

"It's rude," the green-haired boy snapped, looking mildly uncomfortable. If he had a cap, he would definitely have pulled it lower. But as it was, he had left the house in a hurry to get away from his annoying father.

"Really?" Jirou bit his lips, his eyes alight with mischief. Then he chuckled, leaned forward and pressed his lips against the other youth's lips in a light graze and smiled when the other boy froze in shock.

"Ne, Ryoma-kun, you didn't answer me. Are you cold?"

The sleepy-eyed boy didn't wait for a reply, smiling a light, almost angelic smile as he flopped down on the golden-eyed youth's lap and snuggled up to him, fisting his hands in his coat and promptly falling asleep.

The Seigaku freshman stared down in shock at the Hyotei senior. Then slowly, he smirked, threading slender fingers through the soft, silky hair and slipping his other hand under the older boy's thick coat.

"Not anymore. I'm not cold anymore."

"Mmmm… Me neither."

-owari-