Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, nor am I profiting from it any way. This fiction was written purely for enjoyment.

Warning: This fiction contains shonen-ai. If you don't know what that term means, you probably don't want to read this fic. If you do know what it means and are offended by it, please don't read, and please don't flame me for something you were warned about. It also contains child neglect, and some swearing.

Summary: When Ryoma finds himself in a tough situation, his pride might keep him swimming, but it's Tezuka who keeps his head above water.

Author's Note: Another finished fic that I'm archiving on FFnet. I'm not really proud of this fic – it has become something of a shrine to all my bad writing habits – but hopefully some people will derive some enjoyment out of it and maybe get a bit of discussion going. Special thanks goes to pillarpair for the beta. The first half is predominantly Ryoma's POV, the second half predominantly Tezuka's. There are lots of TezRyo elements (as I have discovered is almost inevitable when I write in this fandom), but it's not the main focus. Right, that should be everything you need to know before reading. :)

I'll probably throw up a few chapters a day, as there are 28 of them and that's a bit too much to upload all at once.

The Dispossession of Echizen Ryoma

By Sinnatious

Chapter 1

When Ryoma Echizen opened his eyes to the incessant beeping of his alarm clock that Tuesday morning, he couldn't help but feel as though something important was supposed to happen that day. The feeling was strong enough to rouse him from his drowsy state as he mentally ran through any out-of-the-ordinary commitments he may have made. With the Nationals finally over there weren't any tournaments for a while, nor were there any special club activities – with the onset of Autumn, all tennis activities had died down, though the club's regular practice routines and meetings would likely continue until Winter set in. No promises to meet up with anyone, no exams…. After running through the list of possibilities, he dismissed the notion as paranoia while stroking his cat's soft fur absent-mindedly. Karupin purred contentedly from where he lay, curled up against his side.

Golden-brown eyes wandered back towards the alarm clock. For once he hadn't overslept, but if he didn't get moving he'd be late anyway. Groaning, Ryoma threw back the covers and shuffled out of bed, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes as he went through the motions of a morning routine.

When the freshman finally wandered into the kitchen, his father was already up and reading the newspaper, and his mother was serving him breakfast.

"Ryoma, good morning, I trust you slept well?" Echizen Rinko asked cheerily.

"Hn, where's Nanako?" Ryoma asked, looking at his American-style breakfast disdainfully. It was almost weird for his mother to be around during breakfast instead of his cousin. With Nanako around, she'd felt less obliged to make every meal and tended to work a lot more overtime, meaning that she could sometimes go for days without seeing her family.

"Your cousin's going to be out of town for the next few weeks – she's gone back to visit your aunt and uncle in the country. Didn't she tell you?"

Frowning, Ryoma tried to remember if Nanako had said anything about that over the past few days. Come to think of it, he thought he remembered her saying something about a trip several days ago, but he'd slept in for most of the week so tended to blaze through the kitchen, pausing only long enough only to gulp a glass of milk before running to morning practice. "What about her classes?"

His mother shrugged. "Her classes run on a slightly different schedule at the moment. I think she's only missing a couple."

"Ha! She probably just finally met a nice boy, and they've run off to elope for all you know!" Nanjiroh exclaimed as turned to the next page of the paper. "My darling Nanako – all grown up!"

"Stupid old man," Ryoma muttered.

"Brat."

Ignoring both of them, his mother continued, "She did want to say goodbye to you yesterday before she left, but you ran out of the house before she had the chance, and you didn't get back until so late." It went unspoken that when he finally did arrive home, he'd spent so much time bickering with his father that he only noticed his cousin's absence now.

"Che." Such formalities didn't really bother Ryoma. It wasn't like his cousin was leaving forever. There was no need to get sappy over it. If anything, the only thing it meant was that he wasn't likely to get a proper Japanese-style breakfast for a few weeks. Ah well, he'd have to suffer through his mother's cooking – which admittedly wasn't that bad, but after eating some of Nanako's dishes, he had to admit his mother could be a trifle lazy when it came to domestic affairs. He proceeded to speedily shovel down most of his breakfast in about two minutes.

"Eat slower or you'll choke, kid."

Ryoma's mouth was full, so he didn't reply, but did spare his father a glare – it was well known that when hungry enough, Nanjiroh Echizen fairly resembled a pig at the table.

"So uncute," he muttered, returning his full attention to his paper. Again, Ryoma ignored him as he gulped down a second glass of milk, wiped his mouth with a napkin and prepared to leave. If it wasn't for tennis, he often thought his father would have been much happier with a daughter.

"I'm leaving," he called out, grabbing his bag and stopping by the door to tie his shoes.

"Take care! Have a good day at school!" his mother's voice floated after him, though she sounded distracted by whatever it was she was doing in the kitchen. Ryoma shrugged. He supposed he had become used to Nanako hovering over him as he left the house after all. Was it weird that he got a more motherly vibe from his cousin than his own mother? Probably, but then, a lot had changed since they'd started living in Japan. America seemed like a lifetime ago now – he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to go back to living there full-time again. He'd never experienced homesickness until he'd gone to the American Open.

After a brief check to make sure his bag had everything, he headed out onto the footpath, for once able to walk at a sedate pace towards school. It would be nice not to turn up to morning practice already puffed for once – not that a mad dash to school was enough to wear him out.

A ringing bicycle bell alerted him to Momoshiro's presence a couple of blocks later. "Oiiiii! Echizen!" The junior called out, slowing his bike down. "Want a ride?"

Wordlessly the freshman took a few running steps and hopped onto the back of the bike, grasping the junior's shoulders as he stood half-upright, having perfected the manoeuvre over the past few months of hitching rides with the other regular. Once the first-year was safely on, the tall, spiky-haired junior started pedalling faster, speeding them towards school. For once, they might even be early for morning practice. Oishi would probably have a heart attack.

"How did you go in yesterday's match against Eiji-senpai, Echizen?" Momoshiro called out, the wind whipping the words away from his mouth. "I didn't get to see it!"

"That's because Arai-senpai got you into a tie-break, didn't he? You're slacking, Momo-senpai," Echizen chided with a smirk on his face.

"I just had an off day!" The second year protested, bike swerving slightly as he half-turned to argue with the freshman.

"Hn… Kikumaru-senpai's match was boring. He used up all of his stamina on the matches before ours."

"Harsh as always," Momoshiro muttered.

The rest of the ride was filled mostly with the junior complaining about Kaidoh and talking about Tachibana's little sister, to which Ryoma would only contribute vague comments when directly asked for his opinion, having heard all of this information several times before in a slightly different fashion. It was mere minutes later that they arrived at the school tennis courts, with the freshman heading towards the locker room to change while Momoshiro locked up his bike.

Morning practice was mostly just lights drills. With the Nationals behind them, autumn underway and no team tournaments to look forward to until spring, the focus had shifted from the regular's training into improving the games of the freshmen and juniors. Ryoma personally found it dull and boring, as a good part of that training regime meant either running drills or playing the juniors, who were, quite frankly, no challenge for him. The trials of the Nationals felt like a distant memory. Even when trying to keep things interesting by only playing with his right hand – by now most of the club had dealt with the fact that one of their best players was a first-year – none of them had managed to get a game from him, and his service game had turned into a series of no-touch aces. It almost didn't seem worth warming up.

Classes were tediously boring as usual – Ryoma had long caught up with all of his subjects, and only really paid any modicum of attention to stay alert for something he might have missed or in case the teacher called him on something.

Afternoon practice, at least, was more interesting, if 'interesting' meant horrifying. Inui had broken out the juice, which the regulars had barely avoided. Non-regulars had been spared the risk, as Ryuuzaki-sensei had insisted that the juniors had to get on with their matches and that wasn't possible if half of them had stomachaches.

Ryoma was stuck playing one of Arai's buddies whose name he couldn't remember, and was still thoroughly bored, even playing with his right hand. He'd gone so far as to add extra weights to his wrists and ankles, in hopes it might make the match at least a little more challenging.

On the court to his left, there appeared to be some kafuffle with Kikumaru and Momoshiro – it seemed the freshman wasn't the only one who'd become bored out of his skull playing the juniors. The two were having a doubles match against Arai and one of the better juniors, who were actually doing surprisingly well – if only because Arai had found some minor flaw in their combination, but it was working better than it should have as the two became flustered by the unexpected difficulty they'd encountered, exacerbating what should have been a minor problem to a major one as they squabbled.

On the court to his right, Fuji was apparently getting his kicks out of teasing a flustered Oishi on the opposing team, who was coaching Kachirou, leaving the prodigy to coach Horio; Katsuo being out sick that day. The vice-captain was getting irritated, he could tell, that Fuji seemed intent on not taking the training seriously, and the two freshmen were starting to mess up their plays as the unnatural tenseness between the two most amicable members of the team escalated. There was shouting another court down, which sounded rather like Kaidoh demanding that Momoshiro shut up, and on the fifth court where the rest of the club members were doing drills it seemed as though someone had knocked over a basket of balls.

Ryoma couldn't blame his senpai for being bored. Still, Coach Ryuuzaki had left early, leaving Tezuka in charge of what looked like a sinking ship as bored regulars created an array of minor disturbances that the other club members inevitably escalated. Chaos was the most efficient description of that afternoon's practice. He could see the captain stalking from court to court out of corner of his eyes, eyebrows drawn tighter and tighter together as the noise level of the chatter started to drown out the thud of tennis balls.

The freshman served another ace, no longer really paying attention to his match as the racket from the next court grew too loud to ignore. It appeared that Momoshiro and Kikumaru had worked out their differences and won their match 6-4, but were now getting a little too enthusiastic in their celebrations.

"Mou, can't catch me, Momo!" the energetic red head declared, bouncing around the court.

Grinning, the power player grabbed an open jug of a sickly purple liquid. "Hey senpai! Catch THIS!" He lobbed the vile concoction directly at his energetic teammate.

Kikumaru scream and tried to duck the incoming projectile, but that proved to be futile as the jug flew open and Inui's latest juice sprayed all over his face – and incidentally, all over the court as well. "ACK! GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF! MOMO, I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

Momoshiro's raucous laughter was cut short by a booming voice. "EVERYONE! TWO HUNDRED LAPS, NOW!"

Tezuka had finally snapped.

Silence immediately descended, and a guilty-looking Momoshiro and juice-covered Kikumaru practically sprinted for the court gates, while the rest of the club hurried to set aside their equipment and follow suit. The captain meant business. Two hundred laps was an insane punishment, even for something as bad as throwing Inui juice all over the court. It was a new record. But to punish the whole club?

Ryoma very nearly protested, seeing as he and his opponent were probably the only people on the courts not making a ruckus, but he knew Tezuka well enough by then to know when he was truly irritated, and in that situation even uttering a word would almost certainly double those laps. Not wanting to risk the captain's displeasure, he immediately set off with the rest of the club members, inwardly cursing his decision to add extra weights for the match. A quick glance at his team mates revealed that he wasn't the only one - Kaidoh and Inui looked like they were both wearing extra, but the prospect of two hundred laps with weights was still daunting. It was tempting to stop and remove them, but he'd probably get extra laps for dallying anyway, so the result would inevitably be the same.

Sighing, he set off around the courts, quickly overtaking the despairing trio of freshmen and joining the mob of grumbling juniors and seniors.

Thirty minutes later, he was on his ninetieth lap and his legs were starting to burn. The freshmen had been forced to drop out several laps ago, their stamina still not quite up to the task. A good portion of the juniors had started to lag as well, and some were a good five or six laps behind. The regulars were, as usual, leading the pack, but even their pace had slowed somewhat. Eiji had dropped to the back of the group, and Ryoma himself was only just managing to keep up with Momoshiro and Kawamura. He didn't think it particularly fair that he was expected to keep up with his shorter stride, but there was little that could be done about it. He HAD been lacking a hard workout recently, after all.

At 140 laps, his legs were growing numb, and even Kaidoh seemed to be struggling. More than half of the juniors had dropped out at that point and were sprawled on the grass, trying to catch their breath. Tezuka had let them, obviously figuring that running them to the point of exhaustion was punishment enough for their unruly behaviour. His stern eyes following the regulars, however, indicated that they would not receive such leniency.

170 laps, and there were only a couple of non-regulars still running, though they were still several laps behind. At 190 laps, it was just the regulars, and all of them were wilting badly. Eiji had fallen behind the rest of the pack, with Oishi running beside him to keep him company. Momoshiro and Fuji were leading, but only just, as Kaidoh and Inui had given their positions up to them, obviously finally feeling the strain of the extra weights. Ryoma himself was just barely in front of the Golden Pair.

The last ten laps were torturous, though. The freshman's legs felt like lead, and momentum seemed to be the only thing keeping them going. Sweat poured down his brow and his breath came in short, sharp gasps. When he finally dragged himself to the end of the last lap, he collapsed on the ground, sprawled out on his back, desperately trying to drag oxygen into his exhausted body.

He blinked in surprise when he saw Tezuka holding out his water bottle. "Thanks," he rasped, sitting up and thirstily chugging the refreshing liquid.

"You're wearing too many weights. You shouldn't push yourself past what your body can handle just for an ordinary practice," the senior lectured.

Ryoma smirked slightly. "Che, and get more laps for wasting time while I take them off? Besides, Kaidoh-senpai and Inui-senpai are wearing more than usual too." He inclined his head in their direction. Sure enough, even the fit junior was bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. That the inexhaustible Viper was that worn out made the freshman feel a little better about his own state of tiredness.

Tezuka didn't respond, standing straight and heading to the front of the collection of club members sprawled on the grass next to the courts. The freshmen and juniors that had dropped out early had recovered by then, and were sitting up, murmuring their usual comments about the regulars managing to actually make it through the mammoth two hundred laps. They fell silent when it appeared that the captain was about to address them.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you - just because there are no upcoming tournaments going into winter, doesn't mean that you can slack off during practice! Playing around will not be tolerated. I expect everybody to give their best tomorrow. Let's not get careless. Club dismissed!"

The juniors that had recovered got up and made their way to the showers while the freshmen started packing up the court. Ryoma sat on the grass with the other regulars for a few minutes, trying to gather his energy.

Eventually, he dragged himself to his feet and headed for the clubhouse to shower and change, following after a chattering Momoshiro and surprisingly forgiving Kikumaru. Then again, it wasn't in the upbeat senior's nature to seriously sulk, even if Inui's bizarre juice was involved. And it had been sort of funny. Still, when the regulars claimed the clubhouse changing rooms, everyone gave Tezuka a wide berth and kept their voices hushed. Their captain was strict, certainly, but it was pretty rare that they managed to irritate him enough to get even 50 laps, much less two hundred. Ryoma didn't pay their whispering much mind as he changed into his street clothes.

"Oi, Echizen!" Momoshiro said when he emerged from the showers. "I can't come for burgers today - I have to get home early."

"Okay," he replied, not even really sure why the junior was speaking as though it were an apology.

"See you tomorrow!" the power player called as he ran out of the clubhouse. Ryoma stared after him, then shrugged. It worked out better anyway - practice had finished later than usual, and he was still tired from all those laps. The idea of going home, doing his homework, taking a long hot bath and having an early night was rather appealing for once.

He bade farewell to the rest of the regulars and started walking home. The weather was pleasant - it was autumn, so the days were still warm, but the evenings were refreshingly cool. It was good weather to play tennis in, but he lamented the fact that it would probably be too cold soon, and the courts would be covered in snow and the balls wouldn't be able to get much bounce. Apparently the club continued to meet regularly until first snow, at which point they only met on Saturdays to work out and do drills in the school gym, though usually that was about when the seniors starting handing over the reins to the juniors as they started their high school entrance exams anyway. Ryoma's mouth puckered a little at that thought. He was going to miss playing some of the seniors - especially Tezuka. Even if he'd won their last match, it had been tennis he'd thoroughly enjoyed and thus he was eager to play again, especially after seeing how much the captain had improved at the Nationals. It was a sort of novel sensation for him, wanting to play someone even after he'd defeated them, but it was going to be tricky once the seniors moved on to high school. Hopefully he could at least weasel one more game out of his captain before he graduated. And maybe finish that game with Fuji, too.

The freshman kicked at the leaves scattered across the footpath absently and adjusted the straps of his bags on his shoulders. It was too early to be thinking about the next year - there were at least another four or five months left before the seniors graduated. He'd worry about it then. And it wasn't like they were going to vanish from the face of the earth. In fact, chances were most of them would ignore the high school entrance exams and go straight onto Seishun Gakuen's high school using the ladder system. Academically, at least, it was supposed to be pretty good, but he hadn't heard anything about their tennis team. That would inevitably change if Tezuka and Fuji, along with the nationally ranked Golden Pair, made it there. The thought brought a dry smirk to his lips.

So caught up in his own thoughts was the freshman that he almost didn't notice that he'd arrived home. Coming out of his trance, it was a surprise to see the front door wide open - with his father out the back in the temple, his mother working late and Nanako away, he'd been expecting to let himself in.

"I'm home!" he called out automatically, undoing his shoes in the foyer.

"Hey, little bro! Welcome back!" a vaguely familiar voice replied.

Ryoma froze, hazel eyes wide as he raised his head, catching sight of what looked to be almost an older version of himself, and quite possibly one of the last people he'd ever expected to greet him home.

"Ryoga?!"