Culture Shock

A/N: ryoma is so OOC in this chapter, but it was a necessary evil, i'm sorry! thank you to those who reviewed, and i hope this chapter begins to explain a few things.

enjoy!

same tags apply + italics - flashback


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Culture Shock: Chapter 2
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Ryoma moved away from the tennis courts, claiming to need water, and neared the clubhouse. The expected hisses of pain came to his ears, and he turned the corner to see Kate sprawled on the ground, back against the clubhouse wall and right arm cradled tenderly against her body.

“You shouldn’t have done that. I can take a hit to the head.”

“From one of your power players, short stack?” Ryoma just stared at her blandly. “Look, Seigaku doesn’t need one of its key players out of commission for any amount of time. And I’ll always save you, Ryoma.”

“At the cost of your limbs?” Ryoma bit out harshly.

“A little pain never hurt anyone.” Kate grinned, but it turned to a grimace as the movement of her body jostled her arm.

“Che.” Ryoma tugged his cap down over his golden eyes, hiding the worry and fear that lurked in their depths. “I’m going home.”

“All right, Ryoma. See you there.”

>*<

Ryoma glared at nothing in particular as he remembered that day a week ago. It was a painful memory because it so sharply resembled what Tezuka had done for him. Or rather, what Tezuka had done for him resembled what Kate had done many years ago. The only difference was, Tezuka could still play tennis.

And of course that led to thoughts of his childhood in America, of when he’d met Kate, and that just brought about the bad mood he was currently in. And since it was Sunday, his mood would transfer to his game during his afternoon match with Tezuka, which would certainly cause him distraction enough to lose, and then Tezuka would be disappointed.

Ryoma was not happy.

“Ne, short stack, what are your plans for today? I’d love to see the sights of Tokyo.” Ryoma glared a bit at Kate across the table from him, and then he saw the traitorous ball of fluff in the woman’s lap and decided that as much as he loved Kate, the woman had to go.

“Ah, beautiful Kate-chan, seishounen sneaks off every Sunday to play a secret match. But I would be more than willing to-”

“Ryoma has a date? Tell me who!”

Ryoma glared more and lowered his cap to hide a slight blush from the wide-eyed woman. “It is not a date.” Ryoma moved away from the table. “I’m done. See ya.”

It was only early morning, but if Ryoma got to the court early, he could exert himself into a good mood. Hopefully.

~*~

Ryoma was panting at the baseline, trying to calm himself down enough to serve. Not that it would make a difference, with the score 5-1, Tezuka. Ryoma scowled and tightened his grip on the tennis ball. Breathing deep, Ryoma leaned back to bring his arm up when Tezuka stopped him.

“Echizen, this is enough. You are obviously distracted today.”

‘So, in other words, I’m not worth it today.’ He stared at the other boy over the net, looking into those stern blue eyes, before he finally relented. At least he could claim that he hadn’t technically lost since they hadn’t finished. But that just seemed as if he were grasping at straws.

Ryoma moved to the bench and began to pack his gear. He was keenly aware of when Tezuka moved next to him and packed his own gear. Minutes passed in tense silence until the older boy cleared his throat. Ryoma looked up at him in veiled question.

“If there is something bothering you, as your captain, I am here to listen.”

‘Just as my captain?’ Ryoma looked down to hide his slight hurt at the words.

“It’s nothing, Buchou.”

“If it affects your game this much, I’d say it’s significantly more than ‘nothing.’”

Ryoma vaguely wondered why Tezuka was being so talkative today. He really didn’t want to talk about it. But he didn’t want his captain to be disappointed with him, and Tezuka, more than anyone, would understand. Ryoma shrugged and sat down on the bench.

He didn’t say anything for a time, but Tezuka didn’t move. That gave Ryoma the courage to open up, to know that his captain was willing to wait until he was comfortable.

“I ruined Kate-chan’s chance for a tennis career.”

He didn’t look up, so he was surprised when Tezuka moved to sit next to him. Ryoma stared at the scant inches that separated their legs, thinking that if he shifted just so, they would be touching.

“Echizen.” Ryoma snapped his eyes up to meet Tezuka’s. “What do you mean by that?”

Ryoma looked away and took a deep breath before continuing with the telling of his dark secret. “I met Kate-chan in America when I was seven. It was Career Day at my elementary school, and that stupid old man had come to show off his skills to my classmates. He was such an idiot, incorrectly informing the class about racket grips, and she spoke up from the back of the room and corrected him. At that moment in time, I had made a friend for life.”

Ryoma heard a small snort from next to him and thought Tezuka must have been thinking about how much Ryoma disliked his father at times. “She was the older sister of one of my classmates, whose parents were away on business. She was only twelve, but the teacher had let her come in and talk about what she wanted to be to the class, sort of a ‘you can dream big’ lecture. She wanted to be a professional tennis player. And so we were friends after that. She learned that I trained under my dad, cleverly weaseling a few lessons from him herself, and I learned that she was a doubles player.

“I went to every one of her games, sizing up the older competition and being, what I guess would be called, ‘a good friend.’ For four years she and I were kind of inseparable. And then, on her sixteenth birthday, she and her partner were finally able to register for a citywide tournament, but her partner came down with Strep. And she asked me to be her partner.”

Ryoma paused, wondering if Tezuka was recalling his doubles match with Momoshiro back in junior high. Then he realized that once the team found out what Kate used to play, they would more than likely regale her with that same story, embarrassing the hell out of him.

“What happened then, Echizen?”

Ryoma startled from his thoughts. “Ah, well, I had no practice in doubles, despite having known her for four years, and I pointed that fact out. But she was dying to play in that tournament, so I finally agreed. I think a few bottles of Fanta were involved. Registration took place in the library at the high school, located at the top of this huge concrete staircase. Concrete walls that zigzagged to the top closed off the stairs, and I hopped up on one wall while she climbed the stairs.

“When we reached the top, I went to jump down and tripped, and I fell off. She lunged forward to catch me…”

Ryoma hunched over as the memory crept up on him, cold and unforgiving.

“… And my weight forced her backward…”

He barely registered a comforting but concerned hand on his back.

“… She threw me forward, and the next thing I heard was a scream and a sickening crunch on concrete…”

Ryoma felt sick. Tezuka rummaged in his bag beside him and put a bottle of water in front of his face, and Ryoma grabbed it quickly, yanking the cap off viciously and downing the water to wash the scream away that was building in his throat. Tearing the bottle from his lips to drag in air, Ryoma tried to suppress the feelings of sadness and grief that had assuaged him when he’d been younger, stuffed into the back of an ambulance on its way to a hospital.

When his breathing was under control once again, Ryoma shakily handed the near-empty bottle to the other boy. “She’d shattered her right elbow and knee, and the doctor said she’d never play tennis again. She’d cried for days after surgery. But then, one day, she smiled. She’d finally realized that tennis wasn’t everything, because at least… at least I hadn’t been hurt. Dammit!” Ryoma wished he had something to throw or break or something.

“Echizen.” Ryoma turned reluctantly to face his captain. “If this is true, what did she mean that she taught you how to win?”

Ryoma smiled bitterly. “There was a time, Buchou, when tennis hadn’t consumed my life, if you can believe that. But that day, in the hospital, when she smiled and said that at least I wasn’t hurt, I blew up at her. I asked her how she could say something like that when it was my fault that she’d never play tennis again. And do you know what she answered?”

Tezuka just looked at him.

“She said ‘someone has to beat your dad.’”

“Echizen…” Ryoma met the other’s eyes, and he saw understanding within the blue depths.

“My life was then consumed by my grief and need to make everything better. I was only eleven. So beating my dad became my sole focus, until I completely forgot everything else. We moved back to Japan shortly after that, and that’s where you came in. I had beaten everyone in preparation for beating my father, a subconscious need to keep my promise to Kate-chan, even though she had probably been kidding. And yet, I couldn’t beat you, and it reminded me that there were other reasons out there to play the game.”

Ryoma and Tezuka sat in silence for a little longer, surprised when the stadium lights flashed on as night descended around them. Ryoma stood and stretched, tugging his hat down to cover his eyes in embarrassment. He reached for his bag and placed it over his shoulder.

“Buchou, I think I won’t be at practice tomorrow, just to reassert my ‘cockiness’ after today’s emotional gush.”

Tezuka frowned disapprovingly, but then a small smile titled his lips. “Then I’ll have a suitable punishment ready for Tuesday.”

“Mada mada dane, Buchou. I won’t need a punishment when you see what hell Kate-chan’s going to put the team through this week.” And with a wave over his shoulder, Ryoma walked out of the court.


TBC


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whew. another chapter down. next chapter i get to have some fun with Kate's training regiment for the boys. heh heh heh...

thanks for reading!!