God fucking damn it.
Ryoma managed, barely, to keep the profanity inside of his head. It was entirely too early to be having this discussion. And it was about ninety-seven degrees in the clubroom, which really didn't do anything to improve Ryoma's mood.
Really. Morning practice. Tezuka should be stoned to death.
"But ochibi! You have to come!" Kikimaru's squeal permeated the protective layer around Ryoma's brain and the younger boy winced.
"Senpai, I already told you no."
"But- but-." Eiji's wide eyed pout was truly pathetic, and if Ryoma had turned to look, he would have seen it.
But Ryoma was too busy tying his shoes. In fact, he was so focused on tying his shoes one would have thought it was the most interesting thing in the world.
"Senpai, you're going to be late for practice. Buchou will make you run laps again."
The acrobatic player stuck out his lower lip, and his perky hair seemed to droop a little.
"You're so mean, ochibi! Why won't you come?"
Ryoma could feel his temper shortening, and if it had been anyone but Kikimaru, he would've long since snapped. But it really was hard to get mad at someone who radiated so much positive energy, even if it was annoying at times…like say right now.
"Because," he said, trying to remain as calm as possible. "I don't want to. It's none of my business. I'm not a third year."
The older boy made a sound in the back of his throat, it was the closest thing to a sneer one was every likely to hear from Eiji.
"Ochibi, why do you have to be like this? I told you it was okay! I want you there! Momo and Kaidoh are coming too!"
Ryoma's eye twitched. He had tied both of his shoes as tightly as humanely possible, and he was running out of patience, fast.
"I'm. Not. Going."
"But ochibi-!"
"Eiji!" A familiar voice rang out, filling the clubroom with a resounding echo. Ryoma didn't have to look to see that it was Oishi.
He straightened; glad to be free of Eiji's pestering. At least for now.
The vice captain's face was stern, and his forehead was knitted into a frown.
"What are you two still doing in here? Practice started ten minutes ago!"
Ryoma sighed and nodded, pulling his cap forward so it obscured his eyes. "Sorry, Oishi-senpai. I'm going."
Fantastic. Now, in addition to it being seven o' clock in the morning, I get to run fifty laps around the courts. Thank you so much, Senpai.
As if to emphasis his point, he shot his elder a semi-mild glare. But Kikimaru wasn't looking at him.
His dark eyes were fixed, firmly, on Oishi. All of his laughing disposition was gone. He was, plain and simple, staring Oishi down. His mouth was a flat line and it almost seemed like he was daring his doubles partner to say another word.
Oishi didn't. In fact, his round face was slightly flushed and his olive eyes were conveniently located a few centimeters from Eiji's head.
Ryoma frowned. Uh-oh. This close to nationals…the last thing the team needed was Golden Pair drama.
Eiji sneered, a true, honest to goodness sneer, and Ryoma's mouth all but fell open. He hadn't even know his Senpai could make such a sound. Then again…the look in the cat boy's eyes was enough to freeze hell. It even made Ryoma shiver a little.
Are you serious?
Was this the same less than mature boy that had been pestering him two minutes ago about some stupid party?
"Um...Kikimaru-senapi, Oishi-senpai...we should go to practice..."
The tension in the air was so thick it was nearly suffocating.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, Oishi turned stiffly and exited the club room, footsteps echoing on the tile floor.
Ryoma bit his lip slightly and cast his gaze on his other senpai. The acrobat boy's face was unreadable. Without another word, he passed Ryoma and then he too was gone.
The young prodigy groaned inwardly. As if practice today wasn't going to be bad enough.
Immediately, a flash of blue appeared before Ryoma's eyes. He shook his head. No.
This wasn't about...him. This was about the tennis.
It had to be.
And then, racket slung over his shoulder, Ryoma squared his shoulders and left the humid club room, slamming the door behind him.