Three

Ridiculous.

It was the only word circulating through Ryoma's brain.

It was ridiculous. The situation was ridiculous. Fuji was ridiculous. And why in the hell was he sitting on the floor in front of his small study table, busy pretending to complete English homework that had already been completed over an hour ago? The only excuse that Ryoma was able to come up with was that he was ridiculous. To be affected by his senpai, who was currently sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor while playing with Karupin, was terribly disturbing. But, not quite as disturbing as his inability to figure out why he felt affected in the first place. This, alone, frustrated him. Because Echizen Ryoma was a person who loved a challenge…on the tennis court that is. He loved the idea of confronting an obstacle that required careful observation and effort in order to advance – on the tennis court. But this…this was frustrating.

"Why are you still here Fuji-senpai?" Ryoma asked while staring at the pages in front of him.

Fuji paused in his play to cock his head in the younger boy's direction.

"To make sure that you're feeling better."

Ryoma felt a twinge of annoyance. "I'm fine. You can go back to your own home now." Fuji didn't respond. Still staring at his book, Ryoma could hear the older boy resume his play with Karupin. Frowning, Ryoma wondered how he was going to get the tennis genius to leave.

"My, that must be a difficult problem."

The peaceful voice startled Ryoma from his thoughts. He looked over toward its source to find the light-haired senpai watching him curiously.

"What?"

"Your homework," Fuji nodded his head toward the opened English book lying in front of Ryoma, "it must be a difficult problem."

Ryoma blinked.

"If you need some help figuring it all out, I'd be happy to assist you."

Ryoma tensed involuntarily. Although the offer seemed harmless enough, the younger boy eyed Fuji warily.

"No. I'm fine."

Fuji smiled.

"Ah...that's too bad." His murmur succeeded in setting the freshman's nerves on edge. Fuji stood and slowly walked over to him.

"But maybe I could help you finish it at a quicker pace." His blue eyes were gleaming as he sat down next to Ryoma.

"Eh, Fuji-senpai, I don't need any help."

"Now Echizen, don't be so stubborn."

"I said that I didn't need any help."

With a narrowed gaze, Fuji studied the irritable freshman for a moment, before his face finally relaxed to its usual passivity.

"Hmm…well if you change your mind, you know where to find me," he relented, smiling sweetly.

Ryoma almost groaned in frustration. Idiot… Of course he knew where to find Fuji. The tennis genius was sitting close enough so that their sides were nearly touching. He quickly went back to pretending to slave away over already finished homework, all the while hating himself for being so affected by the other boy, that he was forced to do so. Several minutes passed by with one boy scanning page fifty-four of an English book for what was probably the fifteenth time, while the other looked on with an extremely content expression.

"Ryoma, you've been reading that same page for quite some time now. Are you sure that you don't need any he-"

"Yes!" the dark-haired boy snapped, cutting Fuji off before he could finish. He turned to page fifty-five and the two continued their façade…that is until Fuji decided to scoot closer to the younger boy until he was brushed up against him. Feeling uncomfortable with the older boy's presence, he turned from his book to glare at the tennis genius whose face remained complacent.

"Do you need to sit so close?" Ryoma grumbled. Fuji smiled in amusement.

"Ah, forgive me. I'm just curious to see what it is you're working on." He then leaned over to take a look at the book until his side was completely pressed up against Ryoma's. Ryoma was beginning to feel a little…strange. For the third time, in the past two days, the younger boy wondered if he was coming down with something.

"Hmm…English…I'm confused Echizen. Didn't you live most of your life in America?"

"…So?"

"Sooo…shouldn't this subject be much easier for you to complete?"

"…"

"I would have expected someone to have been brought up in America to have finished this assignment hours ago."

"…"

"Ah…But maybe there is another reason for what is slowing you down?"

"…"

"If so, what could it possibly be?"

"…"

"Am I distracting you, Echizen?"

Gritting his teeth, Ryoma shut the book abruptly.

"I'm done now Fuji-senpai. You can go home," he said coldly while his eyes remained glued to the small table in front of him.

Fuji's mild smile turned mischievous.

"My Echizen, how odd. Are you sure that you have finished all of your assignment, or could it be that…" Blue eyes parted.

"You had already completed it before I came over."

Ryoma didn't respond. It was enough to keep from flinching beneath the sharp gaze. He glowered instead.

"Ah, so that's it," Fuji chuckled. "Now Echizen, why, might I ask, were you pretending to do your homework when it was already finished?"

Long silence ensued. Despite his composed features, Ryoma was boiling on the inside. He was afraid to open his mouth for fear that he would start yelling. He also knew that if he were to begin yelling, that this would egg Fuji on further. Despite his rather dim nature outside of tennis, even he could at least understand that an egged on Fuji would most likely result in a temper tantrum on Ryoma's part. He pictured himself pounding his fists on the floor while Fuji looked on with a small patronizing grin. Just as he was about to grimace at the unwanted image, his thoughts were interrupted by the feel of something touching his hair.

"What are you doing?" Ryoma asked, not bothering to look over at Fuji.

"Am I doing something?" Fuji asked with feigned innocence. Ryoma felt 'it' touch his hair again.

"Stop that," he muttered.

"Stop what?"

Touch.

With his left eyebrow twitching, Ryoma said in a very controlled voice: "Stop – touching – my – hair."

Silence.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Echizen."

Ryoma closed his eyes. It was going to be a very long night.


He couldn't say that he was surprised to see Fuji waiting for him, the next day, outside of his classroom. The genius smiled, Ryoma nodded in response…and then walked away…only to have the light-haired boy follow him.

In light of the past few days, Ryoma had come to the conclusion that Fuji wasn't going to disappear. Although quite similar, he realized that Fuji was not a fruit fly that could be squashed when one was impatient. And since he had pretty much run out of options, Ryoma could only use his last resort: ignore Fuji. He walked quickly to his next class, his shoes making a scuffing sound with each step.

"Echizen," Fuji called out. Ryoma ignored him.

Scuff, scuff, scuff.

"Echizen."

Scuff, scuff, scuff.

"Now, now…if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were trying to ignore me."

If it had been anyone other than Ryoma, Fuji's statement would have been swallowed in the noisy hall. As it was, Ryoma had heard and paused at the suddenly soft tone in Fuji's voice. He remained rooted, trying unsuccessfully to barricade the twinge in his nerves and unwilling to look behind him as he waited for the older boy to continue. They stood there as bustling students walked around them to find their classrooms. Soon, the halls were vacated.

"Well then, I'll leave you alone…for now." Ryoma heard the tennis genius' footsteps echo through the hall as he walked away.


Momo glanced back and forth between a scowling Ryoma and a cheerful Fuji who was currently seated next to the sulking freshman.

"Um…Fuji-senpai…can I ask you something?"

Fuji broke away from staring at Ryoma to flash the spiky-haired boy a kind smile. "Of course Momo, what is it?"

Momo began hesitantly, "Um…well…" his voice died away, uncertain. Fuji patiently waited.

"W-well you see…it's just that… Don't you think it's kind of strange for you to be sitting with us at lunch?" Momo finished in one breath.

"Oh?" Fuji lifted his eyebrows.

Not wanting to offend his senpai, Momo hurriedly explained, "It's just that – not that I mind or anything, it's just that you hardly ever eat lunch with us and lately, just this past week, you've been sitting with Echizen and me everyday."

Silence.

"Ah, is that so?"

"Mm-hm," Momo nodded quickly, relieved at not upsetting the tennis genius.

"Hmmm."

Momo waited.

"Well, that can't possibly be all, now could it Momo?" Momo looked slightly embarrassed.

"I guess I'm just curious. Why the sudden change, Fuji-senpai?"

"Ah…" Fuji looked thoughtfully over at Ryoma who was busy trying to ignore his senpais by stuffing his face full of rice.


It was during tennis practice, or rather during stretching to be more precise, when he finally began to realize that he was missing something. It was right there, dangling, most likely laughing at his inept ability to decipher what was probably an easy concept for ninety-nine percent of the world to understand, which left Ryoma to wallow pitifully in the remaining percentage.

For the first time in his young life, he hated being number one.

"How about I help you with stretches today, Echizen?" Fuji suggested pleasantly. Painfully aware that most of the tennis members were currently watching the interaction between the two, Ryoma nodded reluctantly after deciding that to decline would only create questions. He had a pretty good idea of the source from where their curiosity had stemmed from in the first place. Silently, he vowed to thoroughly crush Momo during the next match that the two played.

"Ah, now stretch," Fuji said while placing his hands high on the younger boy's back. Ryoma flinched at their warmth. He tried to ignore the way it seeped through to his skin and melted into his bones. He tried to focus on reaching for his toes. He quickly tried to think of things that annoyed him: his old man, losing in tennis, Horio and his damned two years of tennis experience, the tennis genius' patronizing smile…anything but the feel of Fuji's hands.

Too late.

Ryoma was grateful that his head was tucked against his knees so that his senpai couldn't see his flushing face.


Ryoma couldn't shake the afternoon's events from his head. Although the stretching encounter had been brief, he felt more than a bit shaken by his lack of control on his emotions. Instead of playing with aggressive intensity in order to cleanse his thoughts, his tennis couldn't have been worse. Smashes went wide landing out of bounds, Twist Serves turned into slices, and he had dropped his racket on more than one occasion when attempting to switch hands during play. His mood was darker than usual and his usually cool composure was rapidly breaking apart. It didn't help that the reason for all of his recent troubles had decided to walk him home that day, which, unexpectedly hadn't surprised Momo who had been ready to give the younger boy a ride on the back of his bike.

"My, Echizen, you seem…troubled." Ryoma closed his eyes and scowled.

"You know Echizen, it isn't healthy to keep things bottled up inside."

"…"

"Ah, and now it seems that you have reverted back to ignoring me again."

Ryoma wondered if Fuji had always been such a talkative person. Had he just not noticed it before? He had always viewed the light-haired boy to be one of few words, and those words that he did choose to speak were always calm and kept to short fragmented sentences. The calm part still remained, but as to the other…the tennis genius was beginning to somewhat resemble a more mellow version of Kikumaru-senpai. While immersed in his rambling thoughts, the two boys soon arrived at their destination.

"Well Echizen, this is where I leave you." Ryoma stared at the front gates leading to his house.

"Fuji-senpai, why are you doing this?" he asked. Fuji, hearing the other boy's frank tone, was quiet for a moment.

"Would you like the truth?" Ryoma nodded.

"Is it because you want to finish our match?" He frowned at the sound of his senpai's soft laughter.

"Ahh…that's so like you to think along those lines, Echizen," Fuji chuckled. Ryoma's frown turned to the scowl that had been gracing his face throughout most of the day.

"Che," he muttered and turned to leave.

"Wait, Echizen." Ryoma waited. He could feel Fuji's presence, the way it moved closer to Ryoma until it was practically touching him. He stood frozen to the pavement, unable to move to what would undoubtedly be a safer distance.

"Look at me please." Ryoma looked up to see the kind smile on the older boy's face and something small flared inside of him. What felt like subtle fuzz warmed Ryoma's insides.

Fuji raised his right hand and gently brushed it against the younger boy's forehead, smoothing the black green-tinted bangs from his face. The fuzz grew stronger. He looked away.

He was sick. He had to be. He desperately tried to hold onto the excuse. This would have been effective if it weren't for the fact that whatever he was feeling wasn't exactly altogether…unpleasant. He knew this. He was Echizen Ryoma, boy genius, tennis wonder, and he knew this.

"Ill see you tomorrow, Echizen." Ryoma didn't bother to watch the older boy leave. He couldn't watch the older boy leave. It was quiet and nearly non-existent, but it was there. And it was slowly gaining as each encounter passed. He still couldn't quite grasp what exactly was happening to him, but at least he was finally able to understand that whatever was happening, was happening against his will and that it would continue to grow whether he liked it or not.

Mada mada dane.