Summary: What if Nanjiroh never skipped the very last match of the Grand Slam? The final match that would have brought him right to the top? What if he had allowed Ryoma to grow at him own pace and had never forced him to play tennis? How different would the story be then?

Author: CrisscrossAnime

Story title: Desires

Chapter 1

/Thonk/ The yellow tennis ball bounced off the wall before whizzing back to its origin.

/Thunk/ A wooden racquet came into contact with the ball, sending it flying off the way it came.

'Did I really make the right choice by allowing Ryoma to grow?' Nanjiroh glanced ruefully at the wall before him. 'Having an opponent to challenge every now and then would have been nice…' Imaging the stone cold wall into an opponent of his choice was easy enough, but as soon as the ball comes into contact with it, the image just fades away. A wall is just a wall, and nothing could ever change it.

Thinking back to the morning when Ryoma came bursting through the doors of their home in America, waving a certificate acknowledging that he had won the top prize of the science fair, face bursting with happiness.

Nanjiroh shook his head. 'Maybe it's better if he is able to choose his own path in life, even if it means I'll have to deal being without an opponent.'

Giving the racquet in his hand one last swing, Nanjiroh then turned to look at the setting sun, 'But it doesn't mean I can't give the idea one last shot. If Ryuzaki-sensei can't convince him to play tennis, then I doubt anyone can.'

Entering his room, shower towel hanging around his neck, his greenish black hair damp from his earlier shower. Glancing around the room, Ryoma gave a small smile as his Himalayan cat, Karupin, jumped onto his lap. His smile then disappeared as quickly as it came when his line of sight finally landed on the red racquet leaning against his desk, untouched from the moment his father placed it in his room.

Hands reached out to touch the equipment, gingerly touching the handle of it before stepping back, hesitating to even lift it off its place on the ground.

Ryoma still remembered the time he first played tennis, it was the first time Ryoma has ever expressed an interest in the sport his father excelled in. He still recalled, his father was practically glowing with happiness from the moment those words were out of his mouth.

That was when everything went to hell in a hand basket. His father wasn't exactly Mr. Anonymous, and when the famous Nanjiroh brought a child he called his son to the nearest Tennis club, naturally all the players there would flock over to where they were to witness the monumentally changing event.

But that was exactly where it went wrong. Ryoma had never been an extremely social child, even when he was young. So when he saw the number of people surrounding them, his little mind was overwhelmed and his 'flight' instincts were triggered. As a result, he dropped the racquet in his hands, words coming from his mouth in a soft whisper.

"Otou-san. I dun wanna plway tennis anymore. I dun lyke it. I wanna go home…"

Not understanding what went wrong, Nanjiroh was about to ask when he spotted the telltale watering of his son's eyes. Giving in to his request. Nanjiroh picked his son up from the court without a question, and carried him all the way back home.

Since then, Ryoma being the person he is, never mentioned the reason he said those words that day. And his father, not wanting to push his only child into something he did not like, never brought the topic up in the house hold. Nobody said anything, his mother being far too polite to bring out this uncomfortable topic.

And so, for the rest of his childhood, Ryoma never played nor held a tennis racquet again. His pride not allowing him to mention his moment of weakness, he then settled to hide behind a bush near the court behind his house to watch his father practice the game he never got the chance to try.

The hypnotizing sound of the ball hitting the ground and bouncing off the strings of the racquet, the mesmerizing view, the rhythmic beat of the sound, but Ryoma never mentioned a word, preferring to allow his father to bring up a topic that would never be brought up.

Ryoma understood that, so he went on with his life, putting all his efforts on the thing that was in the complete opposite spectrum of tennis, his studies, hoping to at least keep his mind off the sport that he was fascinated with.

Thus he became a straight 'A' student, or in other words, a nerd. And over the years, the thing that prevented him from mentioning the subject changed, what once was his pride preventing now became the awkwardness of the subject. Not only did he not want his father to find out why he refused to play that day, he also did not enjoy the prospect of explaining to his father why he did only brought up the subject after years of ignoring it.

Ryoma then set his cat back down on the carpeted floor, hand reaching out once again to hold the racquet, this time lifting it off the ground, gripping it in a way he always saw his father hold his.

'But maybe this time it would be different.' His mind whispered softly.

'Yes. Maybe this time I could finally take the step I had dreaded so much to take.'

Taking a glance out of his new room, Ryoma saw his father practicing behind the house. Swinging. Hitting. Bouncing. Those three motion repeated in a continuous fashion.

'Hopefully this time I can have a chance I gave up so long ago. Because this time it is different. We are no longer in America now. And I'll be enrolling in a new school soon. Hopefully… because we are now back in Japan.'

A/N: I suddenly got this idea in my head so I decided to get it out. I'm not exactly sure should it be a one shot or should I let it progress into a story. So I'm letting you reviewers decide.

So pls read and review!!