Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis was created by Konomi Takeshi. Not me. Please don't sue.
AN: Wow. What was intended as a one shot has now sprouted into a series. Thank you for taking the time to read my work. As always, comments and criticisms are welcome.
Enjoy.
Chance
By Cinpii
It was getting really dark now, Ryoma thought as he paused from his present activity and looked up into the black sky. The looming clouds swathed the luminosity of the moon, blocking out beams of light. They looked menacing and angry. They warned of impending rain.
Damn.
That was one thing he didn't like about Tokyo. The sudden rain. Spring was almost over, making way for summer, but every now and then, sporadic showers would attack.
He'd have to hurry home, which was too bad. Hitting balls against a wall helped him think, and he had stayed after practice for that precise reason. He needed something to occupy his hands. Something mindless and automatic.
He was nowhere closer to the answer of his dilemma and it frustrated him. What was he going to do about Ryuzaki Sakuno?
Ryoma stifled the oncoming sigh and cracked his neck, enjoying the popping of joints. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his arms to ease the stiffness. He'd been practicing nonstop. His mind was too preoccupied for reason to tell him that he should have taken a break three hours ago. He could be stubborn like that, and when he was, his good logic failed him.
Girls were too damn confusing, Ryoma muttered under his breath as he bent down to open his bag. He stored his racket away in the roomy confines and shrugged into his windbreaker. It was getting a little chilly. He'd have to hurry.
As far as coming home late, Ryoma had a lot of freedom in that department. It wasn't as if his parents didn't care (okay, maybe Nanjiroh wouldn't) but that they didn't worry. He had proven himself time and time again that he was capable of taking care of himself and did not need his hand held like a little kid. Ryoma was independent and his time in America reinforced that trait in him.
But it wouldn't do to get caught in the downpour. He had enough problems. He did not need a cold on top of things.
The short boy looked across the open baseball field. It was dark with the moon so obscured. He knew that he should probably stick to lighted paths, but the field was a direct shortcut to his temple. Though the sky was looking as ominous as it was, Ryoma decided to chance it.
Breaking into a light jog, he made it halfway across the empty stretch of land before it started pouring. Too late to turn back and seek protection from the campus buildings, he kept going.
Cat shaped eyes squinted in the pattering rain, making out vague shapes in the distance. They were the closest things to sanctuary at the moment, and so the boy made his way there, taking care not to slip in the slick grass.
Sakuno stirred from her sleep, the back of her hand reaching up to rub at her face. Something tickled her cheek. Something wet.
She wondered groggily why it was raining in her room. Dazed eyes blinked sleepily as another drop of wetness hit her other cheek. Slowly her eyes gained focus. Everything was black.
How weird. Her eyes were open, and she wasn't in her room. If she was, she'd be lying in her bed, and this did not feel like her soft cotton comforter.
Another drop of wetness hit her bare arm. More and more sprinkled upon her exposed legs and Sakuno froze, the reality of the situation seizing her.
Reddish brown eyes widened. With a jolt, she sat up, slapping her cheeks simultaneously with both palms.
She'd overslept!
She was still in the grassy field near her hideout and she'd overslept. The pigtailed girl rapped her fist on her head. How utterly scatterbrained of her.
"Sakuno no baka," she berated herself as she scrambled to gather her things. Where were those darn tennis balls? If left out in the rain, they'd get waterlogged and ruined.
They were still new, darn it.
Weeks of effort spent saving up her meager pocket change would go straight down the drain if she didn't rescue them now. The distraught girl got on her knees and patted the ground, looking much like a nearly blind person looking for their glasses. There wasn't much difference, it was so dark. She could hardly see more than a couple of feet in front of her.
Her hand grasped something solid. Her racket. This was good, this meant she was looking in the correct direction. Sakuno crawled over more and found the first ball easily. She found the second ball by accident, it brushed her knee.
By now the rain was coming down harder and she was getting soaked. The back of her thin polo shirt clung to her body wetly. It felt uncomfortable sticking to her in such a fashion. Sakuno staggered up and jogged towards shelter.
The old tool sheds.
Her braids hung limply and her bangs were plastered to her forehead by the time she got there. Her sweatband was soaked with rainwater and she took it off, wringing the elastic terrycloth dry. She would stay here and wait out the elements. It was safer that way.
Sakuno leaned back into one of the wooden walls of the three sheds, trying to stay as covered as possible. She was pressed against the lee side of the building, but the wind seemed to blow in all directions and no matter what the small girl did, it was cold and getting colder.
Rain, go away, she pleaded. The young girl swallowed. Hard.
It looked like she would have to wait it out.
Ryoma was jogging as fast as he could without slipping on the wet grass. He slid once or twice and had to go slower. If he sprained something, then he'd be stuck with an injury and a cold, and he wasn't so foolish to risk his health to that degree.
His next step was on something hard and mobile. It jutted out of the ground and interrupted his stride. It was probably a rock, but his curiosity chose a weird time to rear its head. Frowning, the boy bent down.
Hn. It was a ball. From the feel of it, a tennis ball. Not a baseball like he would have assumed.
What was a tennis ball doing so far away from the courts? The boy idly pondered the thought as he absentmindedly pocketed the sphere in his jacket.
He continued on. It was getting more difficult, the wind was pushing him in the opposite direction he wanted to go. The distant lights of the city did not reach this far into the outfield. It was like wearing an opaque blindfold. If he squinted hard enough, he could see, but not very well.
With each laborious step, the vague buildings became more distinct and he hurried once again. Rain rolled down the synthetic nylon of his Seigaku windbreaker in rivulets. The jacket was doing a decent job keeping him dry and that was all he cared about. Being cold was one thing, wet and cold was so much worse. Ryoma ducked his cap-adorned head and walked faster, flipping his collar to protect his neck.
Lightening struck somewhere off in the distance, then thunder rumbled. He jerked his head up sharply when he heard the whimper.
Sakuno bit her lip and tried not to panic. She did not like thunder, it made her uneasy. Being out in the elements like this was down right scary and the young girl couldn't help feeling small and alone.
A louder roll of thunder abraded her ears and she sat with her back against the rough surface of the wall, hugging her knees to her chest. A whimper escaped her and she hugged herself harder, wishing for someone to save her.
The name left her lips in an unconscious plea. In her flustered state, she did not even register that she voiced the quiet whisper.
"Ryoma-kun…"
He found her huddling against the wall and at first he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. All that thinking of her was addling his brain, so he shook his head to clear it.
Lightening flashed again and Ryoma couldn't deny it. His eyes were not messing with his sanity. That pitiful huddle of a girl really was Ryuzaki Sakuno. His eyebrow twitched in displeasure, inexplicable fury rising in him.
What the hell was she doing out here?
"Oi!" he called out to her, ten yards away. The snap of her head indicated that she heard him. He strode over to her with angry stomps, his face as dark as his sudden temper.
"Ryoma-kun?" she mouthed, blinking her eyes disbelievingly. Hope flared in her heart. He came for her? How in the world did he know?
She got up slowly, her hands clutching her chest. Her lips moved to say his name again, but they were interrupted by his words.
"Baka! What the hell are you doing here?" he asked harshly, his tone rough and informal. He had the incredible urge to shake her, he was so pissed.
Large reddish brown eyes widened with hurt, confusion swimming in their depths.
"I – I…" words failed her. Here he was, her savior, and she was struck dumb when it really counted.
Bakabakabaka, Sakuno mentally berated herself.
He took a deep, settling breath. His capricious temper surprised him. Ryoma's emotions swirled as wildly as the untamed wind and he capped them with sheer willpower. Seeing her there, looking so small and scared, he just blew up. It was extremely out of character for him. He was confused as to why it bothered him so much, seeing her like that.
You like her.
The short boy inhaled again, calming himself. He reasoned his behavior by blaming it on fluctuating hormones. Damn adolescence, he thought as his blood cooled.
With effort, he gentled his voice so she would not think that he was angry. The deliberately spoken words came out in his normal tone.
"What are you doing here?"
"Practicing," Sakuno responded lamely. She jabbed her thumb into the surface behind her. "Wall practice."
Part of him wanted to ask for clarification but his good logic kicked into gear. Ryoma briefly shook his head. Such curiosities would have to wait. They needed to get out of the rain. The shelter of the sheds were flimsy, the overhang of the roofs nonexistent.
"Is there any way inside these buildings?"
She blinked, surprised. She had never tried entering the structures. There was no reason to before and Sakuno was not one to trespass. With the rain and thunder mucking up her reason, the thought had never occurred to her to seek the shelter the tool sheds could provide inside. She ducked her head, overcome with embarrassment. He must have thought her utterly incompetent.
"Ano… I don't know," she whispered.
There was a pause as her words sunk in. He would have given her a look but decided not to bother. She was looking at her clenched fists. It would have been wasted.
The rain was now coming down in sheets, hard and almost painful as they struck the exposed portion of his neck. A river of wetness snaked past his collar before becoming absorbed in the material of his shirt.
They needed to find access, and fast.
"Wait here," he ordered. He did not need her wandering around in the dark while he searched for a place for them to stay.
His strides were sure and steady, each step filled with purpose. Ryoma walked around the perimeter of the shed, looking for entry. He found it on the west side and tested the lever that served as a handle. It was locked.
He strode to the adjacent shed and tried that handle as well. It also did not budge and he was getting frustrated. The rain was coming down harder and harder and he was shivering now. The last shed's handle turned slightly and the boy smiled. When it stopped at a quarter turn, he cursed.
There was an undercurrent of urgency threading the air. If it was just him, he'd be okay. He could tough it out. But Sakuno would not fare as well. She was already cold, wet, and shaking. An unbidden image of the thoroughly soaked and miserable girl flashed in his mind and Ryoma bent down to take off his bag. Taking out his oldest racket, he whammed the butt of it against the lever in one sure blow.
A dull click greeted his ears and Ryoma jerked at the heavy wooden door. It opened with a protesting groan. Musty air rushed at his face and he coughed, sputtering.
Lightening flashed, briefly illuminating the contents of the small shed. Vague shapes and distorted shadows greeted his eyes, but he had seen enough. The shed was filled with old gym equipment. The blue floor mats in the far corner caught his eye.
Turning around he left to fetch his unexpected companion. Ryoma had barely taken two steps before he bumped into something wet and soft. He heard her yelp as she landed on her backside. The bag in her arms fell from her grasp.
Sakuno winced as she tried to get up. She had landed in a shallow puddle and her skirt was dreadfully soaked. It didn't make much difference for she was already drenched from the pouring rain. Yet sitting in a cold pool of murky water felt absolutely horrid and she certainly did not enjoy it.
"I told you to stay put," Ryoma reprimanded as he extended an arm to help her up. He let out an irritated breath and jerked his shoulder. "Get inside."
Pausing to grab their bags, Ryoma hurried inside as well and swiftly closed the door. The wind pushed against the wood and aided his efforts, slamming the door with a finality that resounded in the small confines of the structure.
Sakuno stood in the dark atmosphere and shivered. Although it was blessedly dry, it was still cold in here. Cold and dark. She did not like her inability to see anything in the constricting enclosure and would have felt claustrophobic if she wasn't so darn jittery.
She was stuck in a small space with Echizen Ryoma and escape was not a viable option anytime in the near future. Small tremors wracked her petite frame. She wasn't sure if it was from the temperature or his proximity.
Strong palms gently pushed her forward and they walked carefully for five paces before he stopped. Something snagged at her calf and she winced. The obscure object creaked in protest, jarred from its original position. Jangling metal clacked together in a discordant cacophony before the air fell silent once again.
"Careful. Not much room here," he cautioned.
As if she couldn't tell. But she was unbalanced. She couldn't quell the sudden tingles that spread from her shoulder blades and straight down her spine. Ryoma's touch was making her movements more clumsy than normal.
"You're shivering," his quiet voice rumbled in her ear. "Are you cold?"
"H-hai," she murmured meekly, uncomfortable with the enforced situation she found herself in. Who could predict that she would be stranded in a tiny dark shed with the prince of tennis on a cold, rainy night? The little building measured 10 x 12 feet in size, but with all the clutter, it felt much, much smaller.
Shifting and shuffling met her ears, then the sound of a zipper. Something dry and slightly rough draped over her head. It would have obscured her sight if she could see in the pitch-blackness. It was darker in here than it was outside and she could not see at all. There were no windows and the small air vents permitted zero light.
Automatically, her small hands reached up to touch the material.
A towel?
"It's the best I got," Ryoma explained as he unzipped his jacket and shucked it off. He shivered as well. It was freezing in here!
Sakuno pressed the dry cloth to her face. Ryoma's musky scent caressed her senses. It was intimate in a way she couldn't describe and she couldn't stop the blush that heated her cheeks.
More shifting met her ears. His muffled voice floated from somewhere around waist level. It was as if he was bending down to take off his shorts.
"What are you waiting for? Take off your wet clothes."
Too flabbergasted by his calm statement, Sakuno merely stood there and gaped. She was drenched from head to foot. The only parts of her body remotely dry were her feet and even they were getting wet. The rainwater from her body streamed down her legs and soaked the fabric of her socks. Excess water coalesced in a puddle where she stood.
"Ano… Ryoma-kun," Sakuno's words were tentative and quiet. The towel in her hands twisted unduly from the unconscious display of nervousness. There was a pregnant pause as he waited for her to continue. She did not.
"What?" He asked, slight irritation coloring his tone. What was so hard about taking off a few articles of clothing? She wasn't so foolish as to keep them on, was she? Everyone knew that remaining in wet clothes in a cold environment was just asking for trouble.
"Ryoma-kun, I'm wet all over."
"What?" This time, his voice was laced with surprise. He knew she was in the rain, he knew she was dripping wet, but the implication of his words did not hit home until just then.
She looked down at her hands, although she could not see them. "I fell down in a puddle, so…" Embarrassed beyond belief, Sakuno could not even bring herself to complete the sentence.
"You're wet. All over." Now Ryoma's voice faltered. He could not suppress the heated blush that sprang upon his features. It was a good thing there was no light source in the cramped space they were forced to share.
"Hai," she answered softly. Sakuno bit her lip and cursed herself, not for the first time, for falling asleep.
Another long pause ensued.
Outside, the storm continued to rage, the world continued spinning, and the earth's inhabitants continued on with their daily lives. Inside the shed, time seemed to freeze.