Disclaimer: Not mine, never was.

Notes: I actually had a very good reason for the whole skipping a grade thing, which has to do with the difference in cut off dates. I'd give an example, but after researching to make sure I wasn't spouting off bullshit, I've completely confused myself, so I won't bother. Suffice to say, my own birthday is shortly before Ryoma's, everyone in school always seemed older than me, it's a plot device, and I have no idea how different 10th grade in the US and first year senior high in japan is.

I was going to hold off on posting this, because apparently my muse decided to take a nosedive into melodrama four and a half scenes into this, and now I have to rewrite about 1000-1500 words unless I can come up with a good way to cover up the blatant OOCness that I seem to have written. Speaking of OOC, I realize that Ryoma being this verbose/showing this much emotion is OOC compared to canon, but you have to remember that Ryoma has living in Western society for four years longer than canon.

Again, this is unbeta'd. I think I only caught two errors after posting chapter 1, so this should be okay. Read and review please, especially if there's something wrong.

Three days later saw Ryoma standing in front of the bathroom mirror, tugging awkwardly at the black uniform that seemed too tight in all the worst places while trying to tame his now-short hair, and wondered again, if he'd gone insane. The uniform, a three piece blazer, shirt and pants affair in black and red plus tie, made him look more like he was going to one of those ridiculous press conferences his manager delighted in forcing on him, rather than to school. He sighed. A week ago he'd had a comfortable monotony that thousands would've killed for- practice, studies, tournaments- and now he was halfway around the world and looking at the exact same thing, only so much more difficult.

After their initial discussion, he and his brother had been too busy getting him moved in and settled to think about the odd challenge their father had set, but they'd finally sat down the night before to finalize things.

No Twist Serve, no drives, and definitely, certainly, not the Cool Drive. That had left him with Split Step and Nitouryuu, two things that were so ingrained in him that he just couldn't not use them, though his brother had dared him to see how long he could go before someone caught onto the fact that he was a southpaw, and not right handed. He'd snorted; There hadn't been a single player in the Junior circuit that he'd needed to use his left hand against, so what made his brother think some high school kid would be able to do it now? Ryoga was hiding things, he knew, but he hadn't bothered pressing him for details.

"Ryoma-kun! Hurry up, you're going to be late!" Nanako's voice floated up the stairs to him, snapping him out of his thoughts. Grabbing his sunglasses off his desk- without his hat, he needed someway to keep his hair out of his eyes, and no, he wasn't going to think about what Kevin would say about him stealing his style- he dashed downstairs, declining breakfast and accepting the bento that his cousin pressed into his hands before he was out the door, schoolbag on one shoulder and racket case on the other. The school wasn't far, but by the time he got there the courtyard was flooded with students, forcing him to push his way through the crowd. If he'd been in less of a hurry, he probably would have been caught offguard by the amount of attention he was attracting, but there was twenty minutes until classes started and he was determined to finish registering and arrive in class on time.

The reception office was busy when he arrived, and the secretary had just smiled at him when he gave his name, handing over his class assignment as well as an information pamphlet about the school, leaving him with ten minutes to wander around the school in search of his homeroom until one of the students, a second year with a neat black hair and green eyes, took pity on him and led the way before running off to their own class. He'd had barely enough time to introduce himself to his homeroom teacher and find a seat before the final bell rang and the class was called to order.

"Class, if I can have your attention please? Today we will be having a transfer student joining us. Meino-kun has been living in America for the last few years, so I hope you will all treat him well. Meino-kun, if you wouldn't mind introducing yourself?"

Inwardly, Ryoma groaned, but he made his way to the front of the room anyways, trying to ignore the fact that his classmates were all staring at him. "My name is Meino Ryoma. I'm fifteen years old, my birthday is December 24th, and I like cats and tennis. Please treat me well." He hated school introductions, hated how trite they always sounded, and the fact that he'd been spared having to make any for the last 4 years was something he wouldn't take for granted again, he reflected, as the class broke out in excited murmurs while he headed back to his seat.

"Fifteen?"

"Shouldn't he still be in middle school?"

"Guess he's another geek."

"Hey, are you any good?" That caught his attention, and he caught himself turning to stare at the boy sitting to his right. He was tall, with short dark hair and dark eyes that shone with curiosity, even as he smirked at Ryoma arrogantly, waiting for an answer.

"What?" God, could he sound any stupider?

"Are you any good? At tennis, I mean. You said you liked it." The cocky smirk was threatening to turn into a grin as the boy watched Ryoma squirm, and the fifteen year old glared back.

"Depends on what you call good." He eyed the teenager, taking note of well muscled wrists and the long, lean body. "Could probably beat you." He shot back, levelling his own cocky smirk at the brunet.

"Oh ho! Shrimp's got guts!" The moment broke, and the bigger boy grinned at him, holding his hand out for Ryoma to shake. "Momoshiro Takeshi, but just Momo is fine. Nice to meet you, Meino."

"Ah... Domo."

"Probably doesn't need to be said, but you should join the tennis club. If you have the skills to back up that attitude, we could use someone like you."

He arched a brow in question, absentmindedly noting what their teacher was lecturing on. "We?"

"Ah.. I should've said it. I'm one of the regulars. Wasn't sure I would be, since I'm a first year, but Iwasaki-buchou fast tracked everyone from the old Nationals team I guess. Best decision I've seen him make, considering Buchou can beat him in straight matches with his eyes closed." Momoshiro bragged.

"Heh? Interesting." He murmured, idly wondering how good his classmate was, if he was considered at the National level. The conversation dropped off after that, both of them turning their attention back to the lecture before the teacher could call them out on chatting.

By the time they broke for lunch, Ryoma had a headache throbbing behind his eyes, tired from mentally translating the lecture from spoken Japanese into written English so that he could keep notes he'd understand later, and he couldn't help groaning when Momoshiro dragged him along to the noisy cafeteria instead of letting him eat in the classrom. They'd been standing in line for a few minutes when something flashed past him, throwing itself at Momoshiro with a speed that left Ryoma blinking.

"Momo-chan!"

"Ah! Kikumaru-sempai, get off! I can't breath!" Now that it was clinging rather tightly to Momoshiro, Ryoma was able to figure out that the blur had actually been a redheaded boy about a year older than him. There were several other boys trailing behind him, and belatedly, he realized that they must be Momoshiro's teammates.

"Mou, Momo-chan, buy me something, kay? I'll treat you to burgers tomorrow!"

"Haha, sure! What do you want?" The redhead had let go of his classmate by then, and his sly grin reminded Ryoma rather forcefully of his father and brother.

"Hmmm... Yakisoba-pan, melonpan and a choco milk!"

"Maa, Eiji, maybe you should take it easy on Momo..." Ryoma recognized the newcomer as the boy that had shown him around that morning.

Momoshiro grinned, scratching the his head. "Nah, it's fine Oishi-sempai. He'll be paying me back tomorrow anyways. Meino, did you want to order anything?"

Ryoma shook his head, holding up the bento in his hand. "I brought lunch, Momo."

"Homemade? Lucky! Ah! Sorry, I should introduce you, shouldn't I?" He grinned. "Meino, this is Kikumaru-sempai, and his double's partner, Oishi-sempai," both boys waved in turn, "Inui-sempai, Taka-san, and Fuji-sempai. We made up most of the tennis team back when we were in middle school."

Ryoma nodded, bowing briefly to them. "Meino Ryoma. Nice to meet you all."

"Nice to meet you too, Meino-kun." The one that Momoshiro had introduced as Fuji replied. The others echoed him, smiling reassuringly.

"Ehh? Momo-chan has a new friend? Why didn't you tell me!" Eiji demanded, looking at the taller boy accusingly. Noticing that they'd reached the head of the line up, Ryoma answered for him.

"Because I just transferred in today, Kikumaru-sempai."

"Really? Awesome! What prefecture did you come from? Why'd you move? Do you like Seigaku?"

The fifteen year old blinked, caught flatfooted by the deluge of questions, which, if the quiet laughter from Fuji was any sign, was a fairly common occurrence. "Uhm, I'm from America, sempai. I haven't been here long enough to know if I'll like it yet."

The redhead's eyes widened in surprise, before that grin was back, full force. "Ooh, really? But your Japanese is so good!"

Ryoma laughed. "My parents are Japanese, Kikumaru-sempai. We spoke Japanese at home." By this time, his classmate had finished ordering, and after Momoshiro and Kikimaru had hashed out who's food was who's, Ryoma found himself being drawn along with the rest of the tennis team to the courts, where there was enough shaded grass for them to eat in relative comfort.

Ryoma was quiet while they ate, and he found himself staring up at the sky, half listening to Momoshiro and Eiji bicker as he wondered what he'd have been up to if he'd been back home and how his best friend was handling the fact that Nanjirou had packed him off to Japan with barely any notice. A moment later, he smiled to himself. Kevin would be fine, and with the time differences, he'd have been fast asleep right now, if he'd been back home.

"Something funny, Meino-kun?" The quiet voice beside him startled him, and he glanced over, recognizing the smiling face as Fuji.

"Ah, just thinking about what I'd be doing right now if I was back home."

"And?"

"I'd be asleep. It's two in the morning there."

Fuji laughed. "True. Why did you move to Japan, Meino-kun?"

Ryoma bit his lip, eying the junior out of the corner of his eye, and noticed that the tallest boy- Inui, he thought- was listening in, despite the fact that he seemed to be busy working on some kind of homework assignment. "Honestly, I'm not sure."

"Oh?"

He nodded, and sighed. "It was my father's decision. One day he just said 'pack up, you're going to go live with your brother', and that was that." It was quiet now that Momo and Kikumaru's argument had ended, and he picked at the remains of his bento, remembering.

"Just like that? Were you having problems at school or something?" The smile on the older boy's face had faded, and Ryoma found himself pinned down by an intensely blue stare that made him shiver. There was something ominous in the boy's eyes, though he didn't think it was aimed at him.

"I didn't go to school." He answered without thinking, then froze, cursing inwardly. Stupid, stupid, stupid...

"Homeschooled?"

"Something like that, yeah. We moved around a lot." Fuji stared at him a moment more, and he held his breath, hoping the older boy would accept it. It was the truth after all, he hadn't even been in the U.S. For more than a few months at a time in years. If Fuji understood it as moving because of his parent's work, then that was his fault.

Then, like nothing had happened, that unnatural smile was back, full force. "I bet you've been to some very interesting places then, Meino-kun."

Ryoma smirked, thinking about all the cities he'd lived in in the past four years. "You have no idea, Fuji-sempai."

Lunch break was over all too soon after that, and Ryoma followed Momoshiro back to class with an absent smile on his face. The rest of the day went by calmly, and without noticing, he dozed off towards the end of the afternoon, lulled to sleep by the drone of their English teacher. Momoshiro shook him awake after classes had ended, joking about what a slacker he was and Ryoma rolled his eyes at the older boy as he stretched.

"You have tennis practice today, right?" He asked, heading towards the supply cupboard at the back of the class.

"Uh, yeah." Came the confused reply, and Ryoma chuckled as he pulled his racket case from the cupboard where the homeroom teacher had let him store it, and shouldered it.

"Good, then you can introduce me to the coach and help me sign up."