Disclaimer: Tennis No Oujisama does not belong to me. I am in no way associated with the author, producers, characters or whatnot. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I only own my imagination, the story and plot.
A/N: I'm back! Finally! I've been on haitus for more than a month (I'm really sorry about that!), but I finally found some time to work on my fanfics!
****Important Notice:So I know I've mentioned (a lot of times) that I was only going to make this as a two-shot, but seeing as my schedule is freakishly packed with assignments, lectures, projects and exams, I honestly don't have that much time. I've decided that this story will be a four-shot, including the Epilogue. I'll be updating soon! Love your reviews! Please continue to read my work! I promise this fic will be finished soon.
I will also be adding a lemon (as per to many requests). It's nothing too graphic, and you can skip it if you would like. You'll still understand the story if you do.
My writing isn't exactly at its best at the moment (yes, I'm messing up on a lot of grammar), and I sincerely apologize. My creative juices haven't been flowing for a while now. Relationship issues. Sucks. But I'll be coming back to re-edit my work once I complete it!
Please R&R! No flames.
Watashi No Hikari: Part Two - Love is War
"Nee, Ryoma-kun, do you ever think about getting married?"
Ryoma frowned. What the hell was the silly girl blabbing about now?
"Well, have you ever at least thought about it?"
Sakuno tilted her head slightly, her reddish-brown orbs startling clear, as she gazed at him, deep in thought.
"I don't know …," Ryoma replied slowly. "I never really thought about it, I guess."
"Tennis," Sakuno said knowingly.
He shrugged and pulled his white Fila cap down, covering the small blush that had formed on his cheeks.
"What about you?" he asked suddenly, looking back up.
Sakuno laughed lightly.
"Of course I have," she answered honestly. "But it's never going to happen."
"Why not?" Ryoma asked.
"I can never leave," she said mysteriously, with a sad smile. "These chains can never be broken."
Ryoma's brows furrowed. "What?"
"Never mind," she shook her head ruefully. "You wouldn't care anyways."
Ryoma was confused. What the hell was that girl blabbing about now?
He was stupid. So, so stupid back then. How could he have not realized sooner? If he had, none of this would've happened! Sakuno would be here, with him, alive and breathing.
"Don't lose hope yet," there was slight pressure on his back as Inui patted him gently.
Ryoma shook his head. "She's not dead," he said softly. "She won't die!" The distraught tennis prodigy clenched his fist and buried his face in his arms. He sat, stone-still, on the hard, plastic chairs of the hospital waiting lounge.
"Do you think she'll make it?" Momo whispered quietly to Eiji, but Ryoma could hear every word they said. His ears were sharply attuned to his surroundings, waiting, with bated breath, for her verdict.
Before Eiji could shush him, however, Ryoma whirled around, golden eyes flashing.
"Of course she'll make it! Don't fuck with me! Don't spit out crap like you know shit about her! She's strong!" he spat furiously.
The whole Seigaku tennis team was shocked. Ryoma Echizen, swearing? ("Well, okay, Ochibi tends to swear when he's pissed, but still. Over a girl? Never thought I'd see the day," Momo snickered.)
Rinko rested a hand on her son's shoulder placidly. "Shh, it's okay," she soothed.
Ryoma sank back down on his chair, shoulders tense as he stared at the ground.
"Gomen," he muttered finally.
"We understand, Echizen," unexpectedly, it was Takashi who spoke up. "We love her, too. She will make it."
Even Fuji nodded in agreement. "She's tough. She lasted against Kuro," his eyes appeared, like frozen ice, as they glittered dangerously for a moment before he smiled again, "for ten years, and she survived, right? She wouldn't let something like this get to her."
"That's correct," Inui nodded, opening his book. "87% she'll live, Echizen."
Ryoma still found himself wretched with worry, however, at the prospect of living without her, despite the team's best effort in cheering her up.
Needless to say, there was still a 13% chance she'll … she'll …!
The tennis prince swallowed thickly. No, he wouldn't think of that.
"She'll be okay," Momo said kindly, patting his head.
Normally, Ryoma would snap at him and smooth out his usually already-ruffled hair before chasing him with tennis balls, but this time, he settled for a simple, "thank you."
Onegai … Sakuno ...
Sometimes, Ryoma would absentmindedly wonder as he sat back in his seat during class, during breaks in between tennis practices, even during his short nap times, before he drifted off into sleep. Wonder about her …
What was her favourite colour? What was her favourite food? Her favourite subject?
There was so much about her that he didn't know.
Why does she look so sad? Why does she put on a fake smile every day? Why does she constantly occupy my thoughts? What was it about her that captured him so?
Her gentle smile? Kind heart? Beautiful personality? The strong will of her heart?
If I were given one more chance … just one … I would be everything she needs. I would take the chance to get to know her … to be everything she would ever wish for.
I would fulfill her dreams.
I would take her away in my arms.
Ride away in the sunset.
She would be my Princess and I her Prince.
That would be our happy ending.
Ryoma gritted his teeth and stood, pacing.
"Ryoma, please. That's very irritating," Rinko objected.
"I don't care," he snapped, glaring daggers at his mother.
She stared at him, completely unsurprised. "Ryoma …"
He relaxed slightly. "Gomen, Okaa-san," he apologized stiffly.
Rinko sighed and shook her head. "It's understandable," she replied, giving him a look that said, "I'm-letting-you-off-this-time-but-only-because-I-k now-how-much-she-means-to-you."
He gave her a curt nod of thanks.
They were the only two left in the hospital waiting lounge. The rest of the Seigaku tennis team had headed to the nearest sushi store to buy them dinner.
Nanjirō was nowhere to be seen. Rinko had attempted to call him many times, but all calls reached his voicemail automatically. They all speculated at his mysterious disappearance ("Especially during this time!" his wife had exclaimed in dismay). Yes, it was indeed strange, but Ryoma paid no attention to his baka Oyaji, nor where he had gone, since he was used to his father vanishing at odd times.
"We're back!"
Ryoma ignored the upbeat yet sullen tones of his sempais returning from their little shopping spree and continued pacing, counting under his breath.
Rinko leapt from her seat, greeting them with a small smile, glad for something to do.
"Nee, Echizen, don't you want some?" Eiji offered the distracted tennis prodigy a bento, but Ryoma simply shook his head.
The red-haired player eyed him doubtfully but stepped back anyways.
No point in the blowing up the already-at-the-edge-of-his-sanity star.
Just as they had begun to dig into their food, the ER light blinked.
Ryoma's head shot up.
The door opened.
They froze.
"She's alive."
A/N: TBC ...
Yes, I realized that this chapter is very short compared to the first one, but I hope you enjoy reading it all the same.
Oh that's right: I recently remembered that many of you might not have actually read Prince of Tennis, or any Japanese short novels/manga/anime at all, so would you guys like me to add the Japanese Honorifics translations? Leave a comment/review if you would, or PM me.
Thanks, and until next time,
~ Yuu-chan (IntertwinedRoses)