Disclaimer: I don't own Tennis no Oujisama. But I do have Konomi Takeshi to thank for creating such lovely characters to victimize. –evil laugh-
Thanks to my lovely beta-readers, burping goddess, kaka-c and cinpii.
A seventeen year old Echizen Ryoma was faced with a dilemma. The tennis prodigy stared morosely at the passing traffic, wishing inadvertently that one of the passing vehicles would do him a favour and run him over.
It had all begun on that fateful Sunday morning. Echizen Ryoma had woken up in a decidedly good mood, wolfing down his Western breakfast without complaint. He played with Karupin, helped Nanako confiscate his perverted father's secret stash ("My swimwear special!!"), and even played the role of the prodigal son by bringing the trash out. A brief warm-up session with baka oyaji. Three hang ups on a hyperventilating Horio. And to make his morning complete, he decided to take a walk to the Ryuuzaki residence.
The birds were chirping, and the fresh air held promise of springtime exuberance. That was, until Ryuuzaki Sakuno opened the door.
"You look terrible," said Ryoma, ever the blunt teenager. Only to be met with a door to the face, which he managed to stop in time, mid-step, by reflex borne from years of tennis experience. The fact that the characteristically mild-mannered Sakuno would have such a violent reaction to him was beyond Ryoma's comprehension, so he did what all other males would have done in a similar situation - he ignored it.
Sakuno stormed in a huff towards the kitchen, unapologetic. Closing the door behind him languidly, Ryoma followed her into the now familiar kitchen, where he watched curiously as his girlfriend of two years began banging pots and pans together vengefully, nearly flattening her pet Calico as she violently swung a plastic plate rack unto the counter.
Ryoma, ever the wise, intelligent male, chose to pay little heed to this erratic and possibly dangerous behavior. "So, I was thinking maybe today we could -"
"Ryoma-kun." Sakuno cut in. "I really don't feel like going out today."
Ryoma was baffled. He stared at the brunette in a manner that suggested that she had sprouted three heads. "What?" he said, momentarily confused. "Why not?"
Sakuno's sigh echoed that of women long martyred. "Ryoma-kun," she gritted out, with a tinge of forced patience, "I have cramps. I'm in pain. The only thing I feel like doing right now is curling up with my hot water bottle on the futon."
A weighted pause.
"... I have an anti-cramping spray in my tennis bag."
Drawn-out silence ensued. Finally, Sakuno exploded with the force of that similar to a nuclear breach. "ECHIZEN RYOMA!" She glared daggers at the mildly petulant teenager across the expansive kitchen. "I'm having my period, you idiot!"
It took a while for all of this to sink in. Ryoma sighed, closing his eyes and leaning against the kitchen doorframe in defeat. "Okay, so I guess I'll be going no -"
He opened his eyes to be met with what news reports probably would have termed Hurricane Sakuno. Fighting the urge to flinch, he settled for looking mutinous as Sakuno loomed over him with a terrifying intensity.
"I can't believe you just said that!" Tears threatened to flood Ryoma in an all-too-familiar tsunami he had first bore witness to when her favourite character from a TV series had died in a horrific car crash. "I never knew you were such an insensitive, uncaring JERK!"
The floodgates opened. Ryoma obligingly held out his arms, but Sakuno roughly pushed them away as she blindly reached for a box of tissues, and began pulling them out with alarming ferocity.
Ryoma sighed. "Sakuno..." The tears still flowed. Ryoma looked defeated. "Fine. I'll stay here with you so we can... uh... watch whatever TV show you wa-" Scratch that."- play some cards. Or something. Anything you want."
Sakuno's countenance changed so quickly that Ryoma scarcely had any time to blink before he found himself being pushed towards the front door. "In that case, you could help me buy something from the drugstore..."
"Drugstore?" echoed a confused Ryoma, as he was reluctantly propelled out to the doorstep. He only managed to catch a few phrases of "ultra-thin" "overnight" "wings" and "onegai" before the door had mercilessly been slammed shut in his face. Which surmounted in only one conclusion.
Echizen Ryoma had just been screwed over by his girlfriend.
Life isn't fair, the tennis prodigy thought, morose, as he stood outside the nearest drugstore, seemingly oblivious to the world outside him. That was, until he was met with a hearty clap on the shoulder that almost sent him flying across the sidewalk.
"Momo-senpai." Ryoma's tone of voice had the enthusiasm of one being sent to the gallows.
Momoshiro laughed good-naturedly. "Got dumped, Echizen?" When Ryoma didn't respond, he slung an arm over his shoulder and started dragging the youth in the direction of the burger store. "Tell you what. I'll let you tell me about it over lunch - your treat, of course -"
"It's worse."
Momoshiro stopped in mid-step. "What?"
Ryoma raised his voice. "It's worse," he repeated dully, eyes boring holes through the pavement.
Curiosity got the better of Momoshiro Takeshi. "Worse how?"
A mumble. Momo felt as if his ears might actually fall off from trying to distinguish the jumble of words falling from the tennis prodigy's mouth. "Speak up, speak up!" He said impatiently. "I can't hear!"
"I said," Ryoma said sourly into Momoshiro's ear, "I'm supposed to buy... to buy..."
"To buy?"
Ryoma swallowed. "Feminine... hygiene products."
Momo burst out laughing. Loudly. Ryomatried to ignorethe passing stares the two of them were receiving.
After two minutes of hysterical laughter, Ryoma felt his patience beginning to wear thin. "What's so funny?"
Momo finally stopped, his eyes twinkling with amusement that Ryoma completely failed to grasp. "That's it?"
Ryoma felt vaguely offended. "I guess."
The spiky-haired tennis player began to chuckle, but quickly stopped upon seeing the expression on Ryoma's face. "It's okay," he explained, grinning. "I help my sisters buy stuff all the time. So what kind are you buying?"
What kind? "...Uh... the period kind?"
"Painkillers? Or the napkins?"
Ryoma felt his face heat up. "Napkins."
"Ah." Momoshiro ushered him into the drugstore before Ryoma could merit an excuse.
"Momo-senpai!" Ryoma's eyes bulged. "Stop! I'm not mentally prepared!"
"It's just sanitary napkins, Echizen. Stop acting like a kid over this."
That, coming from the person who still got into screaming fights with Kamio Akira on a weekly basis, was the deepest insult Ryoma had ever been dealt with.
He scowled. "Fine, already! Let go!" Jerking his arm out of Momoshiro's iron grasp, he started heading past the aisles to the last one. The section for female hygiene. His legs felt like lead. He was vaguely aware of Momoshiro's satisfied chatter beside him. It can't get any worse.
"Hoi, Ochibi-chan! Momo!"
Apparently, it could.
He would have kept walking, if not for the weight of Kikumaru's arms pressing down on his shoulders.
"What are you guys doing here, nya?" Curiosity was apparent in his cat-like features.
"Shopping." Ryoma cut in before Momoshiro could provide the acrobatics player with one of his half-assed answers.
Kikumaru laughed heartily. "I know that, nya! Shopping for what?"
Before Ryoma could say "Skittles", Momoshiro had already opened his mouth. "Sanitary napkins!"
Damn you, senpai.
Ryoma braced himself for another barrage of laughter. To his utter amazement, Kikumaru merely chuckled knowingly. The redhead exchanged looks of amusement with Momoshiro. For the second time that day, Ryoma was utterly baffled. What is wrong with these people? I need to start hanging around normal guys...
Echizen Ryoma took one look at the Aisle of Doom, which seemed to be radiating a dark, forbidding aura. Wordlessly, he started to turn around to hightail it out of the store. Only to find himself being dragged backwards by two very determined senpai.
"Ochibi," Kikumaru sighed, holding down the struggling teen with surprising strength, "It's time you've learned that a man must always be willing to help a lady, no matter what the situation is like."
"Let me go..." Panic was curling its fingers around his mind. He saw stars and brightly-coloured boxes of detergents moving past him as he was forcefully dragged down the aisle.
"Kikumaru-senpai buys these for his girlfriend, I'm assuming?"
A spirited laugh. "Of course not! My older sister. She's pretty scary..."
"Yeah, mine too..."
A pause. "I didn't know Momo-chan had an older sister, nya."
Ryoma finally cut in at this point. "He's got two younger sisters." Kikumaru burst out laughing, and Ryoma was positive Momoshiro's face was a shade of ripe tomato. Ah, sweet revenge.
"That's not the point, senpai!" Ryoma saw an accusing finger being shoved into his face. "Echizen here was trying to weasel out of buying sanitary pads for his own cousin!"
"It's not for her," Ryoma snapped, trying to jerk his arms free in a futile effort.
"Your girlfriend, then," Momoshiro said dismissively. "Either way, your cowardice brings shame upon your own kind!"
Kikumaru could only sweatdrop at Momoshiro's theatrics. "Momo-chan, nya... It's probably his first time."
Ryoma was suddenly released, and almost stumbled backwards from the loss of balance.
"We're here."
Ryoma had to restrain himself from entering a battle stance. He was surrounded by brightly coloured packages, with strange, foreign phrases like "Super-absorbent!" and "Ultra-comfy!", complete with polka dots and other symbols of feminine recognition printed on them. It was humiliating. "I don't want to do this."
Momoshiro snorted derisively. "You have to anyway, so you might as well get it over with."
"Did she specify the type?"
Ryoma racked his brains. He swam through his mental rolodex and managed to recall some key words. "Wings." He frowned. "Wait. Wings? Are we in the right shop here?" He looked about frantically, as if expecting plumed peacocks and twittering canaries to start strutting by.
Kikumaru looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. "Alright, wings." He looked at the dazed Ryoma expectantly. "Anything else? Regular flow? Heavy?"
There were giggles coming from the end of the aisle. Ryoma had never felt so out of place in his entire life. "Overnight," he said faintly.
"Overnight," Kikumaru and Momoshiro chorused.
"In that case, you should take Sofy overnight with wings nya!"
"No way! Whisper overnight with wings is much better!"
"How would you know that, nya Momo-chan? You're a guy, aren't you?"
An indignant sputter. "That's what my sisters say!"
Kikumaru puffed up. "Well, my sister says -"
"Enough!" Ryoma snapped, all too aware of the attention they were receiving. He heard murmurs of "how sweet" and "adorable" being uttered, and felt his face practically burn from the heat emanating from his cheeks. His eyes settled on the one Kikumaru-senpai had mentioned. Sofy. Right.
He hurriedly reached forward to grab that purple thing and was surprised to find somebody's hand close around that same package at the same time.
Scratch that. The last package at the same time. Lifting his gaze to glare at the evil-doer that dared to fight with him over the last pack of the napkins he wanted (well, it was actually the one Sakuno wanted, but that wasn't the point), he as struck with a sudden wave of deja vu as his golden eyes met with a very familiar flash of indigo hair.
Oh. Damn.
Ryoma was hit with an all-too-clear flashback of a brief tussle with Ibu Shinji over the last roll of grip tape. And now, the fates had ironically arranged it such that they were pretty much in the same situation as before – except with a pack of sanitary napkins as the trophy. Ryoma would have laughed at the irony if he wasn't filled with the familiar taste of competitiveness that overwhelmed him, as his grip instinctively tightened on the bright purple package.
Across him, Shinji's eyes reflected a similar recognition.
"It's mine." Tug.
"I saw it first." Tug.
"Like hell. I got here first, so I should get it." TUG.
"An-chan needs them more." TUG.
"Oh yeah? Since when do you shop for Kamio's girlfriend anyway -" Before Ryoma could respond by tugging even harder, Kikumaru had effectively pushed the both of them away from each other by firmly stepping in between them.
It was ridiculous. Ryoma could only imagine what they must have looked like to the other shoppers – four grown men crowded in the feminine hygiene aisle, two of which were fighting over the last Sofy pack. Like depraved perverts, probably.
"Well, if you guys're gonna fight over it, you might as well do it over a match nya!" he said hurriedly, rescuing the now-distorted package, which looked as if it had been battered by Horio on steroids during target practice. "Let's pay for this first..."
Which was how the four of them ended up at the street tennis courts a short while after, the rather pathetic-looking package placed firmly on the viewing bench at the side. The prize.
"Go, Ochibi! Do it for the pride of Seigaku, nya!"
An obnoxious laugh. "Don't fall flat on your face, Echizen!" Ryoma supposed Momo-senpai was still sore about the younger sister incident. He sighed.
"Ready, Echizen?" There was a challenge in Ibu Shinji's eyes as he regarded the younger boy across the court.
Ryoma grinned, the adrenaline already pumping through his system as he prepared to serve...
Akutsu Jin was curious. He had been drawn to the familiar sounds of tennis balls being hit, back and forth in a furious rhythm, in what he had assumed was an extremely heated match. Curiosity getting the better of him, he loped off in the general direction of which the sounds were coming from.
The scene that he was met with surprised him to no end. Echizen Ryoma playing tennis – and from his expression of extreme concentration, it would appear that he was playing seriously. Fighting the familiar urge to pick up a tennis racket one more, he sighted two other spectators which he vaguely recalled as Seigaku regulars. He skulked towards them.
"So what's gotten Echizen Ryoma so riled up?" Akutsu asked, causing the redhead to choke on his drink, and the other spiky-haired one to blanch. He grinned in a feral manner, feeling the twitch of his hands as he caught sight of an extra racket lying on the bench. Anything to make Echizen Ryoma play seriously... Ah, the anticipation...
Kikumaru recovered quickly, swallowing the last of his pineapple smoothie as he regarded Akutsu warily. "They're fighting over who gets to keep the last pack of Sofy overnight with wings."
For a moment, Akutsu thought that he must have been hard of hearing. "Eh?"
Kikumaru sighed, and repeated himself.
That was when Akutsu sighted a somewhat squashed purple package on the bench beside him. Sure enough, he could distinguish the words "SOFY" and "SANITARY NAPKINS", so the genki redhead couldn't have been lying.
Akutsu Jin decided, then and there, that nothing was ever going to make him want to play tennis ever again.
"Congrats, Echizen!" Momoshiro's hearty clap on the back almost sent Ryoma's tired form doubling over, but he kept his dignity.
"You betcha!" Kikumaru's cheerful voice chimed in. "That was a great match! It looks like you've won the right to keep the Sofy napkins, nya!"
Ryoma wondered why didn't feel any victorious triumph over this.
"Echizen." Ryoma fought a sigh, and turned to face the blue-haired tennis player. A cold gust of wind blew, and he braced himself for the inevitable onslaught of Ibu Shinji's hour-long ranting.
To his surprise, Shinji merely looked pensive as he regarded the younger player mulishly. "Want to walk?"
Ryoma hid his amazement. "Sorry?"
"Walk," Shinji said bluntly, picking up his tennis gear and loping off in the general direction of the neighbourhood park.
After goodbyes from Kikumaru and Momoshiro (who demanded that Ryoma treat him to cheeseburgers on their next meeting), Ryoma followed Shinji at a slower pace, remaining a good five meters behind him.
Upon reaching the entrance, Shinji stopped. Whether this was out of graciousness to Ryoma, or the mere illogical reason that was Ibu Shinji, the youth didn't know.
They fell into step and a comfortable silence, as the faint spring breeze scattered a few leaves lying amidst the freshly cut grass. Ryoma inclined his head to regard the Fudoumine player, and was surprised to see Shinji frowning slightly at him. "What?"
"You're different now."
Ryoma wasn't sure how to respond. "... I guess." A drawn-out pause. Finally, "You've changed a bit."
The wind blew in his ears. Birds chirped. Ryoma was filled with an indescribable peace...
... That was, before the true Shinji emerged.
"I've 'changed a bit'? I haven't improved much? Is that what you're trying to say? I know you've picked up a lot of new tennis skills over the years, but that's still not the way you should be talking to a player more senior than you are. I don't know why you're like this, Echizen, it's not good that you're always late for school and sleeping between classes. You're sort of like Kamio, except he's never late for school because he always runs, and An-chan's always reminding him not to sleep so much in class. Not like he sleeps a lot in class because I always sit next to him, but sometimes he just doesn't want to listen because he says he slept at two a.m. the night before. Except it's not really night, it's sort of morning since it's already the next day isn't it? Anyway, Kamio thinks that..."
Ryoma sighed, feeling exhaustion beginning to take its toll as he tried (and failed) to tune out Shinji's ramblings. Sakuno had better appreciate this...
"Ryoma? What on earth is this?"
"Ryoma... I specified ultra-thin! This isn't ultra-thin! The packaging's supposed to be blue..."
"... Purple is blue."
"It most certainly is not! Sorry, Ryoma-kun, I think I need you to go back to exchange it, though I'm not sure if they'll take it back, with the state it's in... Ryoma? Are you alright? You look kind of pale... "
Thump.
"Ryoma-kun? Ryoma-kun!!!"
fin
Reviews or any constructive criticism much appreciated.