"Game won by Echizen! Five games to two!"
Echizen Ryoma bounced the small yellow ball with his left hand, a famous posture symbolizing the coming of a twist serve.
He threw the ball into the air, and smacked it hard towards his opponent, a first-year boy with shoulder-length black hair, timid brown eyes and a pale face, which was at that moment flushed with the heat of embarrassment.
The ball whizzed above the net and accurately landed by the boy's foot, spinning madly for a split second before flying back up, straight at the boy's face. The boy let out a yelp of surprise before falling backward to dodge the attack. It was another point for Ryoma... and, not surprisingly, an ace ball.
But Ryoma was far from happy. He twirled his racket restlessly around his hands as he drew out another tennis ball from his shorts pocket. His concentration had long gone. The idea that this inexperienced first-year could scrap two games away from him would have seemed absurd to him at the beginning of this match, yet his Drive B did not seem to want to cooperate as it refused to bounce inside the bold white lines.
Ryoma frowned with deepening frustration as the high-pitched cheers of his female fans pierced the air and worsened his mood. How can they scream all day and not be hearing-impaired? he wondered as he shot them another warning glare, which he soon regretted as even that roused another wave of girly giggles.
He simply gave up and tried to block out all unnecessary sounds as he sent the ball flying down the court so fast that the first-year opponent didn't even notice it had been served until it hit its target and rebounded off the gymnasium wall, then shot in the direction of a group of girls standing beside it. The female spectators immediately burst into terrified gasps and fearful whimpers.
"Forty-love."
Ryoma's eyes were cold as he reached up to lower his cap.
"You still have lots more to work on."
He spun the ball with his fingers and hit it as an underarm serve; it was an imitation of Fuji Syusuke's Disappearing Serve. The ball shot over the net like a bullet and, all of a sudden, changed direction, making the boy flush as his racket did an empty swing and froze in mid-air.
"Bingo," Ryoma whispered with another cold smirk which drove the girly screams to an ear-splitting climax.
"Game and Match, Won by Echizen."
Ryoma stepped forward to the net to shake hands with the young boy, and demonstrated his bad habit without a second thought.
"Try shaving off those dreadlocks." A cool advice. "If your tennis doesn't improve, at least your looks will." Followed by an equally cool insult.
The boy lowered his head and Ryoma could see, with a small sense of satisfaction, his ears turning to the colour of beetroot.
Ryoma managed to escape to the vending machines after the practice match (although the match didn't quite serve as a practice). He inspected the scratches and bruises that had been the consequence of breaking through the group of his "fans" guarding the exit (as they ridiculously call themselves, for they abused him more often than he remembered cheering for him), and dropped a few coins into the machine for his usual Grape Ponta at lunch break.
The icy liquid felt marvelously refreshing after the exercise, even though it was freezing outside the crowded gymnasium. Ryoma strolled outside with his can of juice in one hand and was grateful for the rare moment of peace and privacy. He took a deep breath of fresh air and felt it rush down his windpipe. He could almost taste the distinctive scent of snow in his mouth.
Yet one thought disrupted his quiet state of mind like a rock being thrown into a pond, causing ripples to spread further and further until it vibrated his whole brain.
Yes, he was well aware of the fact that he had offended Ryuzaki when he had shot back something insulting... which he couldn't even remember now.
And indeed, he did not regret saying that. For it had been she who had not followed his advice and bolted head-first into the crazy group of girls. But...he couldn't help thinking what happened during the English test was...peculiar. So peculiar it almost made him doubt the harshness of his words.
Ryoma kicked a piece of pebble out of his way and watched as it rolled through the slushy snow and fell through a hole in the rusty gutter.
He had handed the English paper back in to the teacher after only spending fifteen minutes on the questions.
Rather amused by the shocked and slightly purple face of his English teacher, he had returned to his seat to casually settle down for a nap. Yet it was only ten minutes before his sixth sense tingled with a feeling of being watched, making him rouse his head from his folded arms with self-consciousness.
Then his eyes met hers.
Those intense chocolaty eyes staring down at him from the seat in front of his. However, it was only for an instant - almost immediately upon seeing his face she had turned back to her test. Noneheless, he thought he caught...a crumbling sadness and a shimmer of moisture. The mixture of emotions shown in that one look had his feelings erupting into chaos. Although he repressed the urge to grab her, question her, and even comfort her, he continued to stare at the girl's long silky braids streaming down her back as confusion swarmed inside his mind.
Confusion for why he would even care about one look. One look from a girl who could barely be considered as an acquaintance…
Five minutes passed.
Ten minutes.
... she never turned around again.
Ryoma's neck began to stiffen as his sharp golden eyes studied the back of her head and trailed down to her shoulders as they gently rose and fell in time with her breathing. Then the absurdity of the situation struck him. He had just wasted ten precious minutes of sleep. For... absolutely nothing.
The classroom was silent except for the soft scratches of graphite against paper and the occasional groans and sighs and other expressions of stress.
This is stupid... But just as he had reached the conclusion that the glance had been a mere hallucination (though why he would have such hallucinations he had absolutely no idea) and was just about to ease back into a blissful snooze, when the ribbons in front of his face - the ribbons that held together her plait - quivered.
His eyes snapped up to catch, this time in perfect timing, the dark brown eyes and the sadness that glowed from within the depth of her inky pupils.
His heart did a full somersault within his rib cage and he thought it was a wonder no one else in the classroom heard the gurgle.
That time he was sure the look had not been an illusion, for Ryuzaki's eyes did not leave his for three full seconds as they widened in surprise and then in... embarrassment? Guilt? God, there was too much he couldn't understand about that look.
At that precise moment, however, a loud thud interrupted the awkwardness. It echoed around the room as Ryoma caught sight of a book on the top of Ryuzaki's head, followed by the angry barks of a mad and suspicious English tutor standing next to her, having sneaked up before neither her or Ryoma had the chance to notice.
"I'm surprised at you, Ryuzaki. We are doing an English test here, in case you haven't noticed, and I will not -I repeat - will NOT have your eyes wandering around at other people's work and especially not at BOYS, no matter how popular they are at school." The clear voice of the teacher rang around the class and a few people snickered.
Her face glowed as red as cherries and she lowered her head in shame with a soft reply of "Yes, Sir."
It had been so unlike him. But Ryoma had experienced another sudden urge... the second within ten minutes.
Although this time it was to whip out his tennis racquet and smash it over the teacher's ugly balding head.
The pebble dropped to the underground pipes with a soft watery 'plop'.
A/N: Hey everyone! A huge thank you to all of those fabulous reviewers again... if I find time I promise I will thank you individually :) Sorry about this chapter which does not seem to have any point so far... I know you are probably expecting to see Sakuno's appology in this one...However, I can assure you the next chapter will be a lot more...interactive. I'll do my best to satisfy the wishes of most readers... but please don't be offended if the story turns out otherwise!
Once again, I would be honoured if you can just drop a few comments in the review page...feel free to make any suggestions or constructive critisisms or encouragements...maybe even some recommendations for the plot development! There's nothing better than getting inspired by ideas of readers. I'll update as soon as I can!