Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wouldn't mind owning Ore-sama~
Notes: Next chapter is either completely written, or half-written. I can't decide if I want to end the scene where it is or not.
Merry Christmas everyone, or whatever other holiday you celebrate. Hope it's a good one!
PS: Still unbeta'd, so let me know if you catch any errors- reviews in general are love!
The courts were filling up when they arrived, and there was a third year with long hair in a pony-tail directing the club through their drills, while a second year with glasses stood next to him, watching intently. Ryoma had to admit, stopping for a second to watch the assembled members go through their paces, that the club's level of organization was impressive.
"Iwasaki-buchou, Tezuka-buchou!" Momoshiro called, approaching the pair, who turned to greet him. The third year seemed friendly enough, but the one with glasses was stern; Ryoma couldn't get a grasp on what he was thinking at all, which was irritating.
"Momoshiro. You need something?" The third year asked as they drew up in front of them.
"Yeah, this guy just transferred in, and he wants to join." He gestured at Ryoma, who stepped forward to introduce himself.
"I'm Meino Ryoma. I just moved here from the U.S."
Iwasaki eyed him curiously for a second, noting how comfortably he held the tennis bag on his shoulder, then shrugged. "You any good?"
Ryoma smiled, crossing his fingers behind his back against the small lie he was about to tell. "Won a few tournaments back home. Don't know how I'll match up here though. There's not much emphasis on tennis in America."
The older boy paused, sizing him up again before looking at the second year beside him. "Up for a game, Tezuka?"
At Momo's delighted laugh, and the stoic boy's calm acceptance, Ryoma remembered belatedly that Momoshiro had mentioned that this was captain of a nationally ranked middle school team, and was captain of the current team in all but name now. His heart sped up in anticipation, and the strap of his bag shifted in his hand as his grip tightened. His brother had been so sure that he wouldn't be disappointed by coming here. It was time he found out for himself.
He changed quickly, taking the offered use of the clubhouse to do so, and headed back out to warm up, jogging a few easy laps around one of the courts and pushing into his stretches while they waited for one of the drills to finish up. The regulars- Ryoma easily recognized the entire group that he'd eaten lunch with, as well as an additional member wearing a bandana- were practicing zone defense while a man in a lab coat that could only be the coach officiated. He was halfway through his stretches when Tezuka and Iwasaki came over to join him, the third year walking past him to speak with the coach while Tezuka waited.
Ryoma took the chance to observe the boy beside him, watching him out of the corner of his eye as he leaned forward again, feeling his calves burn. The brunet was standing beside him calmly, racket held comfortably in his left hand, and Ryoma's eyes narrowed. His father and brother were both right handed. Kevin wasn't, but then again, it was only a challenge to beat Kevin because his friend could shut down all of his attacks with ease, being nearly as familiar with them as Ryoma was himself. If Tezuka was as good as Momo had alluded, this was already shaping up to be a great match, practice or not.
Seeing the practice drill wrapping up, Ryoma got to his feet, taking a few test swings with his racket. "Tezuka-buchou, how far do you intend to take this?" He asked casually.
Tezuka's glanced at him, eyes sharp. Ryoma knew what he'd see, what anyone that played him saw; He'd always been small for his age, and puberty hadn't done him any favors. When all of his friends were growing like weeds, it seemed like he'd missed the wagon. He was at least four inches shorter than most fifteen year olds, and at seventeen, Tezuka was half a foot taller, if not more, and correspondingly heavier. Learning to deal with players that took advantage of his size, however, had made him stronger- If he couldn't reach the ball with height, he'd had to learn to reach it with speed.
The court was finally clear, and they diced for who would serve first, with Tezuka winning. The first serve was probing, and far slower than what he was used to. Ryoma sent it slamming back over the net easily at twice the speed it had been served with in irritation, and saw Tezuka's eyes narrow.
"15 – love." And the game was on.
The next serve was fast, better than what he'd come to expect from his competitors in the circuit, but still slower than his father on the days when he wanted to cut Ryoma down to size. He returned it with ease, and it turned into a short rally until Ryoma tucked the next point away with a neat lob that the teenager didn't quite reach in time. He took the next two points as well, and heard the exclamations coming from around the court. Tezuka's eyes weren't at all dismissive anymore, and Ryoma grinned to himself as he moved back to the baseline to get into position to serve.
"Love game?"
"It's just a practice match. Buchou's just feeling him out."
He blocked out the whispers as he tossed the ball into the air, setting up for a perfect Twist- And pulled the serve last minute, eyes wide. "Fault!"
Ryoma stared at the ball as it slowly rolled to a stop next to the net. It was only the first day and he'd nearly lost the challenge already. He shook his head, setting up for another serve, hitting a fast, flat shot that was returned easily, dragging his attention back into the game. The match was heating up fast as Tezuka upped the ante, trying to test the limits of Ryoma's ability, and Ryoma matching him shot for shot, repaying his losses in kind whenever the teen managed to get one past him. He took the second game as well, feinting a slam into a drop shot at deuce, and the whispers got louder.
It was back to Tezuka's serve, and as the ball rocketed towards and then past him at speeds he'd only seen from people directly related to his family, Ryoma couldn't help but grin. The real game was finally starting. The next point went to Tezuka too, with a top spin volley that kept it from reaching where Ryoma thought it would. He lost the next rally too, and something tightened painfully in his chest as he thought of how easily he could've returned it with Drive B. It wasn't until he'd lost that game, and the next, and they were 40-0 into Tezuka's third service when he finally caught on to the faint circle of dust around the captain's feet. His eyes narrowed, and abruptly his entire world condensed into this one court.
"Heh..." Ryoma couldn't keep the predatory grin off his face as he began to bounce in place, waiting for the next serve. "Neh, Bouchou!" He called. "Don't you think it's time we stopped messing around?" The serve came moments after that amongst an uproar of speculation, and Ryoma raced to the net to meet it with a violent slam. As he'd expected, it gravitated back to the second year waiting at the baseline, and his interest grew. They rallied back and forth a few times with easy shots, letting the ball gain velocity before Tezuka aimed it into the far side of the court, obviously intending to catch him off guard. A heartbeat, then Ryoma pushed off with his left foot, catching up for an easy return.
"Split step!"
"But there's something weird about it..."
"It's just like Rikkai..."
"No doubt, he's at least at Kirihara's level."
The rally continued, and Ryoma scowled, knowing that he was falling directly into Tezuka's trap as the balls came faster and faster, pushing him to use the split step for each return in hopes of making him grow tired. Annoyed, he conceded the point to Tezuka, setting the score to 3-2 in Tezuka's favor. Seeing his serve, as well as the first return, fall victim to the other boy's defense only made Ryoma angrier, and on the next ball he pulled his shot, watching critically as it hit the net then dropped neatly onto Tezuka's side of the court, rolling briefly before stopping. It was the only trick that had ever managed to foul up his father's defense, and he hated the idea that a high schooler was able to pull off something that he'd all but given up on learning. The zone had been a bone of contention between he and Nanjirou for years.
"...Tezuka Zone..."
"Gotta be a fluke!"
"...Only seen it fail against Sanada and Atobe before..."
"Who is this guy, Momo?"
Standing in position to serve and listening to the excited whispers behind him, Ryoma met Tezuka's eyes across the court, and grit his teeth in irritation when there was nothing, nothing, reflected back at him. "You know, I didn't want to let anyone know about this so soon. My brother's never going to let me live this down." He sighed. "But you're better than I expected," Were they really booing him for that? "So it's not that bad, I guess." He switched hands, and the crowd went quiet as the second serve screamed past Tezuka's guard, followed by the third. The older teen caught the fourth one, but had no time to set up his defense when Ryoma lobbed it back over the net.
"3 – all!"
It was Tezuka's serve after that, and Ryoma let himself be drawn into short rally before he pulled himself up short, setting up another weak volley that barely made it over the net and proved that no, his point against the zone defense hadn't been a fluke. Their spectators were absolutely silent now, and Ryoma absently wondered if he'd shown off too much as he moved into position to receive the next serve.
"Enough!" It was the coach, Iwasaki following behind him as they walked onto the court, heading towards Tezuka. Ryoma paused, then straightened with a sigh, feeling disappointed. It had been just about to get good too. He shook his head, and was in the process of stowing his racket away safely when he realized there was someone standing behind him, and turned to meet the curious eyes of their coach.
"Meino, come with me, bring your things. Everyone else, twenty five laps, then go home!"
Ryoma followed quietly, acutely aware of Tezuka's burning gaze on the back of his head as they left the court and cursed silently. Yes, he'd definitely shown off too much. The walk continued in silence until the pair reached the health room and the coach ushered him inside, closing the door behind them before taking a seat. Trapped, Ryoma couldn't help fidgeting as the coach took his chance to size him up with impunity. "First of all, welcome to the regulars, Meino-kun. It took quite a bit of convincing to get Tezuka-kun to give in."
After a moment, Ryoma nodded, not feeling too surprised. From the sounds of it, he'd been on the verge of driving their ace into a corner as badly as any of their opponents ever had. "Thank you. I'll do my best."
The man nodded, smiling slightly. "I'm sure you will. Now, the next question is" he leaned forward, bracing himself with his arms on his knees. "How much were you holding back?"
Ryoma stilled, eying the man warily. Would it be failing the challenge if his coach knew? Thinking quickly, he decided to wait and see what his brother thought. "I'm not really sure." He hedged. "I haven't played seriously in a long time." It was partly true, but his father had always demanded his very best, and Ryoma knew exactly where he stood in terms of ability after playing against him virtually every day.
The man continued to stare at him levelly, and he sighed, defeated. "Fine, but... I need to ask permission to tell you, and it has to stay with you. Can I have a second?"
The coach nodded, and Ryoma fished his cellphone out of his bag, stepping around one of the dividing curtains for some semblance of privacy while he waited for Ryoga to pick up.
"What's up, Chibisuke?" His brother's voice was disinterested, and Ryoma groaned, praying his brother wouldn't be difficult about this, like he had a tendency to be.
"I need your permission for something."
"It's only been a day, Ryoma, what could you possibly need permission for?"
"Look..." He lowered his voice, even though he knew it was useless since the coach would still be able to hear everything, including if his brother said no. "I had to try out, Ryoga, and he was better than I expected."
"And now they want to know how good you really are."
"Basically."
His brother sighed, and Ryoma knew he'd be shaking his head at Ryoma's circumstances. "Only you could get in trouble on the first day, kid."
"Aniki... I'm sorry."
The line was quiet, and after a moment's worry that maybe his brother had given his answer by hanging up, he heard him sigh again. "Yeah, go ahead kiddo. I'll explain it to Oyaji. Be more careful next time."
"Yeah, I know. Thanks aniki." He hung up, and closed the phone, slipping it into his pocket as he stepped back around the curtain.
"Well?" The man asked, and Ryoma took a deep breath to center himself.
"Echizen Ryoma, at your service."