Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Move ❯ Chapter 1

"Move"

A _Price of Tennis_ Fanfiction

By Andrea Readwolf <andrea_readwolf @hotmail.com>

Chapter: 1/1

Rating: PG

Pairings: Echizens

Genre: drabble

Warnings: Pre-series

Spoilers: none

Summary: Ryoma's told that his family will be moving to Japan.

Disclaimer: Tennis no Ohjisama, characters and settings are the property of Konomi Takeshi.

Date Started: July 14, 2004

Status: complete

Revised: July 15, 2004

Word Count: 1041

"Move" by Andrea Readwolf

"Hey, Echizen! Come play with us after school!"

Ryoma ignored the arm thrown around his shoulder as he pulled his math and social studies books from his locker.

"Hell no," he answered, turning away from the lockers and subsequently dislodging the arm at the same time.

"Auh, c'mon, Ryo~ma," Jerome continued, shouldering his own book bag and following Ryoma through the crowded hallways to their next class. "Why not?"

"I have tennis practice," the Japanese boy answered, falling into his assigned seat and pulling out his math folder.

"Aw, that's a bunch of crock, man," Jerome complained. "We *all* know you're like some sort of fucking tennis genius, so surely you can skip a day of practice, right?" Jerome tried to reason. "C'mon? We've already got eight people. And you and me would make for two complete teams."

"I don't like basketball," Ryoma replied.

Jerome sputtered. "That's like---Anti-American!" the Filipino cried.

"What is?" a new boy asked--nearly twice Ryoma's size in height and width.

"Ryoma don't like basketball," Jerome winced under the pressure of Blackwood's weight, which was currently leaning against his shoulder.

"What? Nonsense," Blackwood dismissed the notion. "You're coming to play with us after school today, right, Ryoma?"

"Whatever," Ryoma replied, knowing when to just give in.

***~~~~***

He was a little late getting home that night, but whatever. It was hot outside and he was sweaty and wanted to go take a shower. Instead, his parents waylaid him.

"Oiya! Chibi! Where have you been?" his dad demanded before he'd even finished kicking off his shoes.

"Out with my friends."

"It's dark outside already," his dad pointed out the obvious. "You're late."

"Yeah. We were playing," Ryoma replied, reaching over to pick up his cat.

"You skipped tennis practice."

Ryoma shrugged. "It's boring."

"Boring eh?" Echizen Sr. scratched his unshaven jaw. "Well, well, maybe it ain't such a bad thing after all," the man muttered as his mother called out from the living room.

"Ryoma, dear? Will you come in here for a moment?"

Ryoma sighed, but went, frowning when he saw the tense look on his mom's face. "What's up?"

"Honey," she began delicately, and already Ryoma knew that he probably wasn't going to like what she was about to say. "We had a phone call today, from Japan. Your paternal grandfather passed away this morning."

"Oh."

Well, that wasn't so bad. Ryoma had only met the man once, when he was like six.

"So we'll be returning to Japan this weekend," his mother continued.

"Oh, hey, that's cool," Ryoma replied, already thinking that it would be great to be missing some time from school, but he'd probably need to get his make up work, and that wasn't so cool. "How long will we be gone?"

"Oh, honey, I don't think you understand," his mother said gently and there were tears in her eyes. "Your father was your grandfather's only son, so now it's our responsibility to take care of your grandfather's belongings. When I said we will be returning to Japan, I meant we're moving back, to live."

Ryoma stared at his mother, too shocked to say anything but, "But..."

"Japan is very nice this time of year," his mother went on, trying to smile encouragingly at him. "The cherry blossoms are in bloom, and school is just getting ready to start, so that's good, too--"

"But I don't know anything about Japan!" he finally found his voice to protest.

"Ryoma, please," his mother said gently. "Your father will go with you to school tomorrow. You'll have to clean out your locker and return all your school books--"

"No! I don't--" Ryoma started, but was quickly cut off by his father's raised voice.

"Oiya, chibi!

Angrily, Ryoma turned and headed back the way he'd come.

"Where are you going? Ryoma?" his mother called. "Ryoma??"

"OUT!" he shouted over his shoulder, banging the door shut behind him for good measure.

He wasn't really surprised when his old man showed up at the tennis courts a little while after he did, a racket dangling over a shoulder in a lazy manner that was all his dad. Ever since Ryoma could remember, that was just how things were between him and his dad. If there was a problem, they would take it to the courts; even when there wasn't a problem, they always seemed to gravitate towards the nearest tennis courts.

"You know," his dad began. "Tennis is pretty popular in Japan. All the really good schools have tennis clubs; and they're really competitive, too."

"Eh?"

"Yeah. You'll probably run into a lot more competition than you have till now. Might even have to *work*--" His dad sent the tennis ball zooming past Ryoma, faster than the boy could return it. "Mada mada dane," he sighed.

Ryoma's eyes narrowed and he retrieved the ball for another serve.

"I don't know anything about living in Japan," Ryoma said after a moment.

His dad just shrugged. "You can speak Japanese pretty good, and your mother taught you to read, so you'll be okay. Everything else you can just pick up on as you go."

Ryoma shot his dad a disbelieving look, to which his dad just grinned back at him.

"You're a smart kid, chibi. When in doubt, just keep your mouth shut and *observe*. You'll catch on."

"What are the schools like?" he asked after another series of volleys.

"School is school, no matter where you go, chibi," his dad muttered. "But Japanese schools *are* pretty different from these American ones..."

The two Echizen men spent a good two hours asking and answering questions as they hit a tennis ball back and forth. And then Ryoma caught the ball and looked at his father with what could have quite possibly passed as a smile.

"It sounds like living in Japan might be fun," he said and his dad laughed loudly.

"That's the spirit, chibi! Now, what do you say we get home before your mother calls the police out on us?"

"Okay."

"Oh, and chibi?"

"Mm?"

"Better brush up on your Japanese. Your accent is horrible."

Ryoma scowled at his father's back.

He did *not* have an accent!!!

~~the end~~