Wintersalad │ Disclaimer: I do not own "Prince of Tennis" or any referenced translations. │ Written: 09/10/10 │ Posted: 09/10/10 │ Last Edited: 05/01/11

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Gakino Gizaka Junior Tennis Tournament

Pock

Pock

"Did you hear?

Pock

A 12-year-old is going to be in the 16-year-old division!"

Pock

"No way! Are you sure you didn't make a mistake?"

Pock

"I checked the registrations…

Pock

Pock

I'm sure it said #48 Echizen Ryoma, 12-years-old!"

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Genius 001: Echizen Ryoma*

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"Wahahaha! You idiots still don't know the difference between the western grip and the eastern grip?"

At the exclamation, a pair of dark eyes opened lethargically from beneath the shade of a white cap, looking to pinpoint what exactly was hindering a quick nap on the train. Locating the three high school students standing at the center of attention, bored eyes quickly left the three in peripheral view in favor of watching the passengers glance uncomfortably at the racket out of the corner of their eyes. One of the aforementioned idiots started to laugh obnoxiously and swung a racket around haphazardly without a care to his fellow passengers. The neighboring people looked obviously distressed, but appeared too timid to voice their complaints. No need to go around asking for trouble, right?

Sighing, the roused figure slumped forward to place a weary head upon hands propped up by elbows on knees. 'Japan, huh?'

"For the top spin it's the western grip," the young man standing continued. His shoulder-length hair slid forward as he leaned towards his friends. "Hold the racket as if you're shaking hands."

"Wow, you sure know your stuff, Sasabe!"

"This is common sense you moron!" Despite his response however, Sasabe looked quite pleased, preening under his friends' admiration.

Incredulous, previously dull eyes sharpened and snapped wide open to take in the idiots standing on the opposite side. Noting the troubled passengers inching away from the spectacle and averting their eyes, the small figure scowled with irritation. If they wished to be passive and avoid confrontation, they should at least get rid of the reproach within their averted eyes! If these idiots wished to be a nuisance to society and claim otherwise, they should at least do so smartly so no one can mock their logic!

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"Hey, why don't you tone it down?"

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"…"

All eyes slid towards the bold voice. The scattering passengers stopped in their movements, partially to discourage attention and partially to focus on the tension unfolding in the air. They all watched as Sasabe turned his head to look at the person who interrupted his fun.

"Ha! Whoa!"

Clatter

"Tahahahaha!" Laughing while crouched to pick up his dropped racket, Sasabe remarked incredulously, "What the hell! I just got told off by a middle school brat!"

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"Bingo!"

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Ignoring the older boy's passing jibe, the still slouched figure's nonchalant posture and tone was belied by the intense stare pinning Sasabe down. "That's the correct western grip. Holding the upper part of the racket and clamping it is the correct way. The "shaking hands" grip you were bragging about earlier is the eastern grip."

Everyone took in the appearance of what seemed to be a young child wearing a long-sleeved sports jacket with knee-length shorts. The clothes were ill-fitted, as if they were borrowed from someone else. They watched as the skinny figure swamped in the billowy clothes smirked thinly at Sasabe and leaned back, tugging a white cap over neatly cropped short black hair. Long lashes kissed smooth skin as the impromptu lecture continued, "It's common for people to make a mistake and learn it the opposite way."

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"This stop is Sei Haruda! Sei Haruda!"

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Startled, Sasabe jerked upright while his friends laughed and kicked him up and out the door. "Haha! Sasabe sure got told!"

"Must be embarrassing to be corrected by a kid, huh Sasabe?" the girl giggled, enjoying her fun at the boy's expense. She had tagged along with the boys at their offer of watching the (their) tennis matches at the tournament. Despite their dubious popularity at school, she couldn't pass up the offer of making a few connections outside her current circle. It didn't hurt that Sasabe's father was rather well known and that the boy himself was rumored to be his father's son.

"Sh-shut up! Hurry up and get off!"

Sighing at the meaningless exchange, the previously reclining child hopped up and moved towards the closing doors, following the group off the train. With one foot out the door, the young upstart shifted a tennis bag back and turned to glance at the elderly couple who was sitting across from the commotion. During the earlier surveillance, they were the only two people who had calmly witnessed everything with composure, as if the occurrences were beneath their notice. Even during the little confrontation, the two had merely glanced their way with mild interest, as if judging their worth with wisdom garnered from many years. Not knowing whether to respect their dignified attitude or be insulted at their presumptuous acknowledgement, the mysterious child hesitated briefly before hastily bowing to the couple, ignoring the murmurs of the other passengers, and stepped off the train and onto the platform.

The frail, elderly gentleman patted his wife's wrinkled hands softly within his own. Dressed richly in traditional garb, the two kept their appreciative gaze on the disappearing figure walking towards one of the exits. What a lonely back it was! The young had their own share of burdens to shoulder, but to do so alone…?

How sad.

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Gakino Gizaka Garden

"Well. I'm late."

Disgruntled, the teenager dropped to the ground and fell backwards. Observing the lazy clouds with an even lazier expression, the lying figure mused aloud, "Maybe I should've checked the maps before coming..." Rolling over to the side, a nap suddenly sounded like a good idea. Jet lag was so troublesome. Having arrived five minutes late, disqualification was guaranteed. And on the way to the entrance, the players didn't seem all that interesting, so it was hardly worth the effort to find the necessary people to be excused.

"Um…the match… Were you late?"

One eye blinked open from beneath a white cap and peered up at a young girl with twin braids reaching below her waist. Considering for a few seconds, a few bangs fell across the once-again closed eye. She didn't look familiar, but guessing from the anxious look on her face in expecting an answer, she must've been the girl who had given the directions earlier at the station. A husky voice drawled out, "Five minutes late. Disqualified." No need to explain that the disqualification could have possibly been revoked. People shouldn't give directions if they didn't know which way to go themselves. Let the girl learn to take responsibility.

There was a stretch of silence before, "I'm so sorry! Was it because of me?"

Huffing, the teen rolled over and sat up, pulling the cap lower. "That's right! Did you come here to cause me more trouble?" Turning, dark eyes glared at the flustered girl. Why was she blushing? Strange girl. After another short awkward moment however, the wronged party decided to take some pity and sighed, "…I'm thirsty."

"I'll buy you a drink!"

Walking behind the scampering female, the capped individual watched her bouncing braids. She looked around the same age. Twelve maybe? Not anyone striking in the late participant's books, since going by her feminine attire and even more feminine physique, she was definitely neither a player in the tournament nor an athlete in general. And anyone who wasn't a potential rival isn't worth much attention in the teen's eyes. Only way the girl was even recognized was by the ridiculous hair trailing behind her. How long does it take to manage such lengthy hair? Isn't it a safety-hazard?

They were almost near the vending machines and the girl looked about to say something, eyes towards the ground and a bright flush across her cheeks, when a familiar voice rang across the lot.

"Oh, well if it isn't the brat who stood me up before?"

Both younger teens turned their gaze to look at the approaching three high school students, the very same three who the young tennis-player confronted on the train. Apparently, they had switched out of their uniforms for more appropriate attire. As the so-called brat already suspected, they were participants in the tournament.

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"Ah! Watch out!"

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But the apparent leader of the three, Sasabe, had already swung his racket towards the kid who had dared to embarrass him in front of not only his friends, but the girl he'd had his eye on. You needed to teach brats like these early on!

"..!"

A pair of dark eyes glared up from beneath thick lashes without even blinking. Slightly put off tempo, Sasabe leaned back and laughed nervously. He wasn't actually planning on hitting the kid, but to have his bluff called so loudly really ticked him off. In an attempt to appear unaffected, he mocked, "Don't think you can win in tennis with just theory brat! You'd never beat me in tennis!"

As if saying it aloud made it so, his laughter gained confidence, coming out stronger when his wingman chimed in and his soon-to-be girl tittered behind him. It's not cool to take kids too seriously and it's not as if he needed to anyways. Definitely not so when he was a Sasabe and the opponent was a girly brat who can't even afford fitting clothes. He'd bet the racket inside that bag were no big deal either, probably too big as well judging from the kid's attire.

The strange girl with the pigtails began to fidget nervously, glancing between the handsome youth and the three bullying teens. There was nobody around and it looked as if the boy was holding a grudge from what happened earlier on the train… Oh, what should she do?

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"Hey…Did you learn the correct grips yet?"

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All three abruptly stopped their laughter and watched, stunned, as the kid walked up to the vending machines and leisurely selected a desired drink. The only sound was the faint vibrations of tennis around them and the dispensing of a canned Ponta.

Bending to reach for the drink, the kid smartly answered, "If you didn't, I don't mind teaching you a few moves."

Fschh

Tilting back, a smirk played on the kid's lips as the cool drink slid down.

Growling, Sasabe stabbed his racket forward, "You're on kid!"

"Lead the way then," the capped teen responded, following the three taller ones out the lot. Since they were already here, the late, and thus disqualified, participant might as well teach these three unqualified idiots a lesson. Tennis was the reason for the long trip here anyways.

That and good manners dictate that you should finish what you've started.

The three were crowding in on each other in good spirits. The two males danced around the girl, talking animatedly with wide gestures, apparently looking forward to showing off. The younger girl, who didn't actually pay for the drink now that the kid thought about it, continued to trail after them. Did she have any further business…? For someone who was just asked for directions, she sure did seem attached, the laid-back adolescent thought while walking in front of her.

"Haha, Sasabe, are you actually going to do this?" The young man leered at his friend, swinging his arm around Sasabe's shoulders. He'd known Sasabe since junior high, and while he's been known to go out of his way to let everyone know just how good of a tennis player he was, he'd never seen the boy actually take on a challenge from a kid before. But maybe it was because it was from a kid…?

Taking a look at the court his friend had chosen, he let out a low whistle. Besides them, the girl exclaimed in a scandalous tone, "You're so cruel! You're not planning on humiliating the poor kid are you?"

Or maybe it was just because he really liked the girl…

Said poor kid stopped behind the trio and looked around, ignoring their continued discussion. With a bored expression, the young tennis player turned slowly to take in the location the leader of the band chose to have their little face-off. It was the practice court on the tennis grounds next to the actual tournament courts themselves. Plenty of players would have to pass by here to get to their designated court areas.

Really, idiots these days were all the same.

"If the kid can't handle this much publicity, then he doesn't deserve to hold his racket!" Bending towards the teen to face his challenger more directly, Sasabe boasted, "Yo! Boy! You're going to get the beating of your life! I'm going to teach you to respect you elders!"

The opponent frowned in distaste, though at being so demeaningly addressed or at the thought that Sasabe thought he was qualified to teach others about respect is up to anyone's guess. "If you say so…"

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"The best of one set match! Sasabe service play!"

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Pock!

"Ha! You think you can return this?"

Slam!

Grinning, Sasabe jeered, "That was about 180 kilo! Should I serve slower for you? Hahahahaha!"

"No thanks," the younger player replied nonchalantly, unfazed by the sudden serve.

"That's right! Going easy on bastards like you is a big mistake!"

The younger teen watched with a disapproving frown at the celebratory mood when the game had just begun. Really, what was the point of coming all the way to Japan only to meet more idiots? They were all the same. On one side of the world, they spoke English, and on the other side, they spoke Japanese- that's all there was to it.

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Their laughter still grated on the ears.

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Pock!

"It's too slow."

Slam!

"The hell? He returned Sasabe's serve?" Unable to believe his eyes, Sasabe's self-proclaimed best friend stood up and walked closer to the courts.

"Moron!" Sasabe returned lightly to the spectators. "Even if-"

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"Hey."

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All eyes turn towards the smaller figure on the court. Though the facial expression remained as deadpan as ever, there was a decidedly mocking lilt to the kid's next words.

"That wasn't your actual serve was it?"

Sasabe staggered. What was this kid on about? Just because he could return it doesn't mean anything! Everyone gets lucky every now and then! Narrowing his eyes, he got back into position and ignored the banter of his friends. "You're a funny kid. You're just asking for it aren't you?

But there won't be a second chance!"

Pock

Pock!

"What the-?" Twisting quickly to reach for the ball, Sasabe barely managed to return the ball. "Risky, risky…

…!"

By the time the older teen returned his attention to the game, the other player was already at the net. That brat was fast!

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Slam!

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"Amazing," the braided girl breathed. Sasabe and his friends were speechless at the unexpected turn. Never did they expect that Sasabe would lose his service play, especially to a middle school kid!

Disturbed by the sudden silence, Sasabe weakly supplied, "Huh, I was just going easy on him. What can a kid's serve do to me?"

Slam!

"Game count 1-0. Echizen lead!"

"What?" Sasabe muttered, dazed. The game felt like it was going by way too fast for him to follow and in entirely the wrong direction. The ball just went right past him! He turned to look into angry eyes that speared straight into him. What was he so upset about? The one looking bad right now was him!

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"Since you're playing later in the tournament, I better make this quick, right?"

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Really, the young tennis player had planned for this to be quick and only mildly painful (in the way one gets a stinging paper-cut without knowing where it came from). It was just meant to teach the older students to be more wary of the potential of other players and of their own in comparison. Being too self-reassured was dangerous. But if there is one thing more hateful than being presumptuously cocky and disrespectful to others for no apparent reason other than narcissism, it was hiding behind excuses.

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And oh did this young tennis player hate excuses.

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"Haha!" What looked to be a slightly eccentric and positive woman, one who made even the frumpy sports gear she was wearing look fashionable, walked in to the practice courts. "I couldn't find her* at the tennis grounds, but I find her here? You just can't reason with a princess, huh?"

"Grandma!" The girl with the twin braids sat up in her seat. When she caught sight of the boy who rescued her on the train and kindly asked her for directions, she'd forgotten all about waiting up for the woman in favor of apologizing to the young man for her incorrect instructions.

"Hey, Sakuno!" the grandmother replied with an easy grin. "Enjoying the game?"

Recalling what her grandma said upon entering the grounds, Sakuno ignored the question and remarked with an incredulous tone, "Grandma! It can't be your disciple's …?"

Smirking, the lady in pink replied, "Yea, that's her alright. Her form is killer, isn't it? So much like her father…" Trailing off, she turned to watch the match with an unreadable expression in her eyes and a twist to her lips that looked part smile and part grimace.

Flabbergasted, the young girl stared in shock before blurting out, "But I thought he was a-!"

The woman with her hair high in a ponytail glanced at her granddaughter and blinked. Suddenly she burst out laughing, realizing Sakuno thought that the young athlete was a boy.

Blushing, Sakuno hunched over in her seat and pouted. That is, before she realized the implications at hand and exclaimed, "But didn't you say she was a four time American junior champion?"

"Yes?" She replied, slightly confused at what Sakuno was startled by. "Her whole family comes back to Japan every few years so they're relatively unknown. Before this tournament, we told her that since she's so talented, she should join the 14-year-old division instead of the 12-year-old division. But that arrogant kid went ahead and signed up for the 16-year-old division!"

But Sakuno was only listening with half an ear. She'd known that her grandma's disciple was moving back to Japan permanently with his family for a while now. Grandma had specifically pulled her aside to tell her about his daughter, requesting that when the time came Sakuno would make the effort to befriend the child. Excited at the prospect of makings friends with someone who grew up in a different country, Sakuno had jumped to ask more about the girl who'd be moving in to the local shrine. Grandma had said she was a bright and cheerful child, if a bit timid. Very cute. But the image this description drew contrasted with the proud boasts following, describing a girl so talented, the she won such recognition at such an early age. Sakuno had called her grandmother's bluff, amused by the overwhelming pride in a child she neither raised nor coached, but looking at the girl before her now, she believed that they've both been had.

"Well, she's good, so it doesn't really matter.

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Echizen Ryoma, that is."

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The other two observers blanched from what they caught of the conversation. The situation was entirely different from what they expected!

"Hey, hey, even if this isn't an official game, isn't it bad if Sasabe lost to a 12-year-old?" asked the girl. She could tolerate jerks, but she couldn't tolerate losers who've strung her on! He better start showing what he learned from that supposedly professional father of his soon!

Noting the girl's distaste, but more worried for his friend's reputation should he be dumped and scorned for this matter, the boy yelled out, "Sasabe! No need to go easy on the brat! Go after him with your special net-play!"

"Shut up!" Sasabe shouted. 'Who doesn't know that? That kid's hitting the ball to the back! The bastard is keeping me at the sidelines! I can't even get up to the net! What "princess"? It was because he looked weak that I automatically underestimated him! But he sure as hell ain't no weak pampered princess! How many times is he going to make a fool of me?'

"Hey," the subject of his thoughts intoned. Sasabe returned his focus to see the bastard resume his form.

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"Where's that special net-play of yours?"

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Slam!

"It went in!" The grandmother coolly remarked. "As expected!"

"Hold it!" Sasabe's wingman yelled out. "That ball was out just now!"

"…"

The lady crossed her arms and leaned back, observing the opponents of her disciple's daughter. She wondered what they did to make the normally disinterested girl pick up a fight…? But a self-judged game meant those punks got to judge the balls however they wanted, so they'd aim to have the girl lob the ball for Sasabe to return and run to the net, but…

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Plunk-

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"Hey

Is the ball I just hit out too?"

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Smirking, the lady eyed the ball sitting right before the line.

What a clean execution.

Gritting his teeth, Sasabe jumped as another lob was made. Angered and desperate, he glanced at the kid who fooled him more than several times standing below him while he was still suspended midair. First the kid points out his mistake on the train, then he tries to pass off as a weak-ass pansy, and now he brings out his fancy lob? Smirking menacingly, Sasabe tilted his hand back slightly before flicking his wrist, launching his racket at the kid's head.

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Thud!

Clatter!

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"Sorry! My bad, my bad. My hand slipped," Sasabe drawled out maliciously.

"You-!" Sakuno moved to get up, but the last member in the audience stopped her with a hand blocking the way. She could understand the concern for a girl's face, but Ryoma would not appreciate the sentiment. Frowning, she grimly realized that there may be things she would need to discuss with her granddaughter later.

But the minorly injured athlete was already getting up, humming softly while bending down towards the ground to grab the fallen white cap.

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"You still haven't shown me a proper grip yet."

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Turning away, Echizen Ryoma ignored Sasabe as he continued to goad her. Weaker dogs always barked the loudest from her experience. She dusted the cap and placed it back over her head, muttering quietly, "Game count 5-2. Echizen lead."

Sasabe smirked at the small figure across the court. Confident that his recent ploy managed to shake the brat's nerves, he mused to himself, 'He's just trying to look cool, but he's probably steaming on the inside. I'll get you yet, you little brat!'

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Tshshshsh!

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"Ugh! What the-?" Sasabe flinched away from the ball. 'What was that just now? It looked as if the ball made a turn in the air after hitting the ground to fly at me!'

"…!"

Startled, the previously reclining lady contemplating dark thoughts stood back up to evenly distribute her weight between her feet. "That serve…" She smirked. It appears that her disciple had left out a few details about his daughter's progressive talents. The little lady must be pretty pissed to pull that move in a match of this caliber. One couldn't tell from the look on her face, but she must be itching to hurt the kid on the opposite side of the court.

"15-0," Ryoma calmly reported.

Wham!

This time, the ball successfully made contact with Sasabe's face.

"30-0"

To the side of the court, Sasabe's friends were watching the display with increasing dread. "No way! Is that the twist serve…?" the guy whispered disbelievingly. "Even adults have a difficult time hitting that!" Not knowledgeable in tennis, but understanding the situation just the same, the girl paled. What first appeared as a cute kid was now looking quite scary, and what she first believed to be a good idea was now proving to be one of the worst decisions she'd ever made. Eyeing the small crowd gathered outside the fence, the girl groaned internally at Sasabe's stupidity and her own poor judgment.

Cling!

Barely dodging the last serve, Sasabe muttered out a curse. 'That bastard's aiming at me!'

"40-0"

Sasabe felt his body chill. He watched as the body across from him pulled taunt, preparing to launch in the air. Cold, dark eyes finally lifted from beneath the shadow of the white cap to glare across the court, taking in his shivering form.

"Eat this."

Eyes wide, the terrified boy scampered backwards. "…! N-no!"

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Whump

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"Idiot"

'That rascal,' the pink-garbed lady mused fondly. It was a perfectly straight lob, something even her granddaughter should be able to return. Too bad the girl on the court had Sasabe so scared that he was shivering on the ground with his eyes closed, racket held tightly in front of him.

It was Ryoma's complete victory.

"Game set!"

"…"

"She won," Sakuno whispered. Her grandmother grunted and smirked.

What a cocky brat.

"You bastard! Wait!" Sasabe ran after the shorter player. "I never said it was one set only! Let's play one more! I'll definitely beat you-"

"If you're a real man, you should accept defeat with grace," the lady cut in. Any further embarrassment would just be cruel. And if anything, the Echizen family knew how to be vindictive when exacting their revenge. "No matter how many times you play, you'll never beat Echizen Ryoma!"

"What did you say you old hag?" Sasabe turned towards the woman with a mad glare in his eyes. There's no way he was going to leave the score settled like this!

"It's fine," Ryoma said calmly while moving back in position. "I don't mind."

"That's right! Give me your best shot!

…

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…What?"

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Sasabe and his friends stared in horror as the kid switched hands.

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"Ryoma's left-handed," the grandmother smiled good-naturedly. "Until now, she's been playing with her weaker hand."

No, she mused darkly, the tournament really wouldn't have been enough to stop Echizen Ryoma. Nor apparently, she slid a sly glance at her granddaughter, was being late and disqualified. Sighing, she smiled softly at the small injured girl making her way towards her with determination in every step.

Never again was she going to make a bet with another Echizen again!

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Few days later, Seigaku Middle School Admission Day

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"Sakuno!"

A young girl with twin braids in a sailor outfit turned her head while holding her bag and a tennis racket incased in its bag.

"Tomoka!"

Sakuno stopped by the school entrance, waiting for her friend to catch up.

"I heard that an awesome guy is joining the tennis club!"

"Eh?"

"Never mind. Are you going to play tennis Sakuno?"

"Yeah!"

The two girls passed by a dozing figure beneath a sakura tree. Dressed in a dark uniform, a white cap rested on a book bag next to the student propped up against the tree.

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It's the start of an intriguing new semester at Seishun Gakuen*.

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End Genius 001

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Notes:

* In Japanese and many other Asian languages, the family name comes before the given name. Technically then, "Echizen Ryoma" should be written either as "Ryoma Echizen" or "Echizen, Ryoma" in English, but the grammatically correct version of the name somehow feels restricting and imposing. I will therefore be writing the last name first, without a comma in Genius. Also, as a future note, it is uncommon for someone to be addressed by their first name unless they are rather close to each other. To do so is an insult because there is an implied familiarity or lack of respect. There are thus many forms of honorifics to be acknowledged and they are very important in showing the relationship between two characters. Please pay close attention to these subtleties.

* In Japanese, it isn't always clear whether someone is saying "he" or "she," meaning, you aren't always able to tell the gender. I'm going to use "she" for those who know her true gender, and "he" for those who don't. I'll try to make it as less confusing as possible. Also, there are feminine and masculine forms of the word "I," but you can often leave the word out in a sentence since it is assumed you are talking about yourself (such as "I'll be back later" versus "Be back later," but in even more cases in Japanese). However, for those concerned, imagine that I'll be having Ryoma say "boku" or "ore," a masculine form of the word, for those situations where she has to say "I," as a manifestation of her tomboy ways or as a cover-up.

* "Gakuen" literally translates to "school." The name of the school is often shortened to "Seigaku," taking the first syllable from each word. They are interchangeable, so please don't be confused by the references.

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A/N: Hi! This is probably one of the longest pieces of writing I've ever written in one go. It's also the first time I've attempted to write action, so I'm not that confident on how well my writing style works. Most of the credit for the scenes go to the original manga however. I'm just not that creative or knowledgeable of tennis.

As you've noticed, Ryoma is female in this work of fiction. I like from-the-beginning stories, and I wanted to imagine how the series work if Ryoma was a girl. Well, more like I wasn't sure how else to start from the beginning. Again, I'm not really all that creative, haha. This is a starting point from where I build "Genius."

Please be kind. I look forward to finishing this project with everyone. Thank you.