Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ When Tezuka Had Fallen For Her ❯ Act xiv ( Chapter 15 )

Author's Note: Schoolwork is beating the hell outta me! Sheesh, I don't even have enough time to brush my hair, with all the stuff I am forced to do. Anyways, here's the fourteenth chapter—wait, did I just say FOURTEENTH?! I can't believe I've gotten this far! I must throw a party! Well, enjoy this one! Thanks for the reviews, minna-san!

 

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN PRINCE OF TENNIS. You know that, so it's the last time I'm going to say it. I'm getting tired of typing it all over again (may throw up a tantrum at any moment).

 

 

~>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+> +<+>+<~

 

Act xiv

(Chapter Fourteen)

 

~>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+> +<+>+<~

 

 

 

Various people from Southeast Asia had exhaled a sigh of relief in unison as they stared at the sky that morning. It was already weekend. And it was sunny too. A good omen.

 

But for the participants of the incoming National Tennis Tournament, Saturday is no exception in the practice schedule, especially if the weather is this cooperative. Then they could take the whole day, for there are no classes on Saturdays. This is everything a tennis player could wish for.

 

“Ohayo gozaimasu (good morning),” Tezuka greeted as he entered the dining room, wearing his Seigaku jersey and his tennis bag on his shoulder.

 

“Ohayo,” his mother said from the kitchen.

 

His grandfather, Kunikazu, merely grunted at his newspaper, which completely hid his face from view. Kuniharu, his father, was already seated on one end of the table, quietly sipping tea. His hair was the same color as his son's, though his already had streaks of gray. The firm look on Kunikazu's and Kunimitsu's faces are absent on his, to be replaced by a soft, friendly expression. He nodded at his bespectacled son as he took a seat beside him.

 

“Practice on Saturdays?” Kuniharu asked once his son settled down.

 

“Hai,” his son replied in his usual indifferent way.

 

Kuniharu shook his head in a fatherly sort of way. “It's the Nationals we're talking about, anyway…ah! And also, I read an article about your team in a magazine I was reading in my office yesterday. And you have an exclusive interview!”

 

“The reporters said that it is necessary,” Tezuka said simply, starting on his breakfast.

 

Kuniharu looked at him weirdly. “Aren't you happy for it?”

 

“No.”

 

“Tch,” Kunikazu suddenly said. “Reporters get very annoying, you know. But, Kuniharu, I don't even know if you'll understand. You're such a lame person.”

 

A sweatdrop hung on Kuniharu's head. “But when you were sued by reporters, it was because you attacked an innocent man who was just asking the police for directions.”

 

“It's just the same thing!” Kunikazu said loudly, folding his newspaper and crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at him, as if daring him to say anything more.

 

Kuniharu sweatdropped more and decided not to pursue the subject, or he might end up being hit by the old man.

 

 

~>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+> +<+>+<~

 

 

After twenty minutes, Tezuka was already standing outside his house, preparing for his walk towards the bus stop. As he was on it, he spared a glance at the apartment across him, silently wondering if Ringo was already awake. He mentally shrugged, then began walking away.

 

The Seigaku grounds were quiet when he arrived there thirty minutes later. It was nothing out of ordinary, for schools are usually quiet on weekends. Sounds and low chattering began to reach his ears only when he was near by the tennis courts, and he was mildly surprised that many seem to have made it there before him.

 

“Tezuka!”

 

Tezuka paused and turned to the voice, and he was even more surprised to see Yuki Midori, a senior and a regular in the girl's team. They were in the same class last year. “Yuki,” he said, as she came to him. “What are you doing here?”

 

Yuki smiled at him smugly. “Well, guess what? Our team was qualified for a summer camp next month. Just like your Junior Invitational Camp!”

 

“I should congratulate the girl's team for that,” Tezuka said, inwardly impressed that the girl's team had improved a lot. Last year, they didn't make it to the Regionals. The team also had talented players, like Yuki herself, but most of them had already left Seigaku, so there was a sudden decline of power. And Tezuka was afraid that it would happen to the boy's team, too.

 

“Yeah…” Yuki said happily. “The girl's club is here too, if you're wondering where all the noise are coming from.”

 

“So that explains it,” Tezuka said in comprehension, before a thought popped out in his mind. So it means, Ringo is also here?

 

“By the way,” Yuki said suddenly, “I came to ask you if you've seen Ringo.”

 

Tezuka looked at her. “Nani?”

 

“Since you two are neighbors you might know what's up with her,” Yuki said. “She's still not here.”

 

“How did you know that we are neighbors?” Tezuka asked abruptly.

 

“Oh…” Yuki looked as if she was restraining herself from smiling. “Ringo mentioned it to me.”

 

“Sou ka,” the bespectacled buchou said, marveling about how information travels faster than the speed of light among girls.

 

“I know that the fukubuchou suspended her, but I insisted on making her attend this practice,” Yuki said worriedly. “I've been contacting her but she wouldn't answer. Do you know where she is?”

 

“No,” Tezuka replied. “Maybe she was just late,” he added as an afterthought. It wouldn't be so surprising if she really is late.

 

Yuki slightly frowned. “I hope it is. Well, gotta go now. Shina-fukubuchou must be waiting. Ja!” She left, and Tezuka watched her back for a few seconds before making his own way to the men's courts.

 

Unknown by him, in the shade of a nearby tree, a pair of thick glasses glinted maliciously, and a strange smile played on the owner's lips as he scribbled furiously in a green notebook. He chuckled gravelly as he finished writing and closed his precious notes.

 

“Neighbors, eh? Interesting…she should be perfect.”

 

 

~>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+> +<+>+<~

 

 

It was already afternoon.

 

“Nya, Oishi!” Eiji pouted. “You cheated!”

 

Oishi looked bewildered. “I didn't. I just seized the chance where you're not looking.”

 

“Mou, that's cheating!” the acrobat whined. “What do you call hitting the ball when the opponent is not ready?!”

 

“Eiji, you must not look anywhere else when you're in a match!” Oishi reprimanded. “That's in the basics.”

 

Eiji crossed his arms grumpily and cocked his head to the side. “Cheater!”

 

“Eiji…” Kawamura said uncertainly, looking at the redhead. “Oishi's right.”

 

“Well…” Eiji's shoulders drooped and he scowled childishly. “It's still unfair! I'm going to drink that!” He pointed an accusing finger to a drinking tank beside the benches that had a large “INUI” printed on it, and the data-man himself who was standing beside it, a cup of maroon liquid in his hands.

 

“Well…that's how it goes…” Oishi said, looking away so his partner wouldn't see the relief on his face.

 

“Now Eiji, be a man and do the consequence,” Inui said happily.

 

Later on, Eiji came running out of the courts for the nearest drinking fountain, crying a waterfall of tears.

 

Tezuka sighed as he watched his team with a sharp eye. He may look that uncaring but in reality he would never in a million years dare to drink Inui's crazy concoctions. He still valued his life, thanks.

 

Moreover, he thought Inui today was…creepy. Yes, even the great Tezuka Kunimitsu can be freaked out. Who wouldn't be if a crazed data-man was constantly giving you mysterious smirks and was constantly watching you? If he would continue doing it Tezuka swore he'll make him run laps.

 

The rest of the afternoon wore off with many club members running off for water, all thanks to that day's Inui Juice concoction. The team was the happiest when practice ended; they were the fastest ones to retreat, not wanting to be within a ten-mile radius from Inui.

 

As they exited the grounds, the noisy girl's club emerged into view. Most of them did a double-take and hushed their voices as they caught sight of the boys. Tezuka's eyes minutely searched for a short brown-head among them, but there was none. It made him mildly concerned. Where had she gone?

 

 

 

~>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+> +<+>+<~

 

 

 

“Irrashaimase!” the clerk behind the receiving booth greeted as a girl entered the Tokyo Main Police Station. He was mildly curious as the said girl began to walk towards him. Maybe she is a tourist? Yes, that probably is it, for at some angle she doesn't look Japanese.

 

“May I help you, young lady?” he asked politely when she reached the booth. He was slightly worried when she didn't reply. She was just staring down at the floor.

 

“Umm…are you lost? Are you looking for something?”

 

At this, the girl's head perked up to meet his, and the clerk was slightly taken aback at how her blue-gray eyes stared at him uncertainly. She must be between twelve and thirteen years old, by her looks.

 

“I want to confirm if a certain person is still alive and residing here in Japan,” she said directly to the point. “Can you do it for me?”

 

The clerk looked at her apologetically. “Gomen nasai, ojou-san, but what you are asking is confidential information. We cannot just let anybody know—”

 

“I just want you to check,” the girl said impatiently, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. “I'm not going to ask his address or anything.”

 

The clerk regarded her thoughtfully. “Then can you tell me a valid reason to do this?”

 

The girl looked at him disbelievingly. “I just need confirmation! You don't need to know why.”

 

“Sorry, but it is our job to protect the people. We will not give information as long as we don't verify your identity and your agenda.”

 

The girl sighed, and she glared at the clerk before sharply turning her back to him and making her way out of the police station, her waist-length, pale brown hair swaying madly along her strides.

 

“M-Matte!” the clerk started, but she was already gone. “I was going to help her…”

 

 

 

~>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+> +<+>+<~

 

 

Ringo only slowed her pace down when she was sure she had put some distance between her and the police station. She began to walk slowly.

 

It's already dusk. She wasn't able to face going to school that day anymore. She always did that whenever something bothered her too much. She even remembered not going to school for almost a week after her father's death years ago.

 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Ringo…”

 

The voice echoed in her mind like a douse of freezing-cold water, and she pursed her lips tighter at the memory. It's been a while that she heard that voice. The last time was when she was asked to go to Japan, and that was last week. She wished not to hear that again as long as possible; every time she does, her blood boils in anger and she felt like breaking the phone.

 

She hated government people. Very. They only recognize the influential, big-time people. They never regarded the ordinary people as much as the elitists.

 

 

--Flashback—

 

(Usual note: Bold letters are spoken in English)

 

 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Ringo.”

 

Ringo clenched the phone too tightly that her knuckles were going white, and almost at once she made to pull the receiver away from her ear and hang up. But the caller had spoken at once, as if she's been expecting something like that to happen.

 

“Please, don't make things harder. Nothing will happen if you would just avoid us.”

 

“Meeting you won't do any good either,” Ringo replied, trying to calm herself down. “Dr. Wakefield.”

 

Dr. Wakefield sighed. “Ringo…”

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I wanted to know how you're doi—” Wakefield started, but was cut off by Ringo.

 

“What do you want?”

 

There was a short pause. Then—

 

“Ringo,” the older woman said seriously, “whatever the government did to you, I think you should first set that aside. What is important is now.”

 

“Easy for you to say,” Ringo said fiercely. “It wasn't you who suffered.”

 

“You're wrong. I am a psychologist—”

 

“I don't care even if you're the best doctor in the world.”

 

Wakefield sighed, then let short silence to ensue before continuing. “I have called to share to you very valuable information.”

 

Ringo snorted…audibly. “And what makes you think that I'm interested? All you say are lies.Did you think you had fooled me when you said I still have relatives here in Japan? I only agreed to you because I don't want to stay there anymore.”

 

“Then here is a good news for you,” Wakefield said.

 

Ringo's eyebrows are raised as she replied, “What?”

 

“It just came known to us a day ago…” Wakefield paused, “…that there is still someone alive from your father's family.”

 

“Nice try. Don't mess up with the dead, Doctor.” Ringo again made to hang the phone up, but paused in mid-action as Wakefield's next words made her freeze on the spot.

 

“Harinozuka Mamoru. Age fifty-six. Former businessman and owner of Meiji Sakura, a publishing company that became popular during the late 1990's. After five years, company was bankrupted, and nothing was heard of him after that. Last seen in Kyoto, about one year ago. Look for him and see for yourself.” Then, without saying anything else, Wakefield had hung up, leaving Ringo stunned, listening to the beeping sound that announced a busy line.

 

--End of Flashback--

 

 

Ringo didn't know whether to believe it or not. She didn't trust Dr. Wakefield, not at all, but what she said made some unknown hope spark in her. She doesn't want to be left alone; she doesn't want to return to Britain anymore. Would it hurt to try and find this Harinozuka Mamoru?

 

So far, she had been fruitless. She had visited all agencies she knew to inquire about it, but they would either refuse or find nothing similar to that name in their records. It made her pissed off, especially the last try in the police station.

 

I was just asking!

 

She was sharply pulled back to earth when she bumped into somebody and when a shrilly scream filled her ears. She quickly looked up, and was relieved to see that it was just a black-haired girl maybe a year or two older than her, together with a number of girl peers. It seemed that she bumped into the said girl.

 

“Look at what you've done!” the girl shrieked at Ringo, jabbing her thumb at the front of her own blouse, which was stained by orange juice. “You bumped into me while I'm drinking!”

 

“Sorry!” Ringo said quickly. Though inwardly, she didn't know what the big deal with it is. “I…I wasn't looking!”

 

“Are you dumb? You're supposed to look where you are going, idiot!” the girl said furiously. “You ruined my newest blouse!”

 

“It wasn't ruined, it was just stained,” Ringo tried to explain, and later on regretted that she had said such a thing. It just made her angrier.

 

“Don't talk crap with me! Do you think you can pay for this?”

 

Unfortunately, Ringo isn't in a very good mood either. She had been out since early that morning, and she didn't have lunch because she was too busy asking for directions. She had no time to argue with some random loud people in the streets. She's near to explosion.

 

“Well,” she retorted angrily, “I don't how much that ugly, crappy thing is, but I'm sure I can pay something that cheap!”

 

“N-nani?!” the girl said, stunned. Then her face contorted in obvious rage. “Why you little—”

 

“What do you want us to do with her, Michiru?” one of the girls behind interrupted, a smirk in her face. The others smirked as well.

 

Well, if they're thinking that they can beat me because they are many, they're definitely wrong, Ringo thought smugly. But she was surprised when the girl who had talked the latest laid down a bag and pulled something from it.

 

It was a tennis racket.

 

“Masaka,” Ringo said, “You don't think—?”

 

“Why yes,” the girl called Michiru said. “Good thinking, Saru. I guess you know how to play tennis?” she shot at Ringo.

 

How did she…? Ringo thought, and that was when she just remembered for the first time that she had been hefting a brand-new tennis bag over her shoulder. She had completely forgotten that she had bought her new things when she happened to pass by a sports shop that afternoon. That was…kinda stupid.

 

“It's obvious,” she replied, inwardly kicking her ass off for forgetting such a thing.

 

“That's good,” Michiru said. “If you beat all of us, then you may go. If not, you'll pay six-thousand yen for my blouse.”

 

Ringo's eyes widened. “That blouse is that expensive?”

 

“Of course it is!” Michiru said angrily. “It's a signature brand!”

 

“That's too much!”

 

“But you said you can pay it, didn't you?” Saru said slyly. “Don't tell me you're lying?”

 

“I'm not!” I can win this…don't worry!

 

But before anyone could have said in reply, a female, sing-song voice interrupted from behind Ringo.

 

“Excuse me, but why don't make it a doubles match?”

 

 

 

 

~>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+> +<+>+<~

 

 

 

There was a soft knock at the door, then Tezuka Ayana's muffled voice spoke up. “Kunimitsu?”

 

Tezuka looked up from his English assignment and sighed as he leaned back on his chair, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “Hai, Okaa-san?”

 

“May I come in?”

 

The buchou was mildly surprised. His mother rarely ever walked into his room while he was studying, so as not to disturb him. She cleaned the house on times when all of the others are out, and she only knocked on his door when she needed something urgently. What would it be now?

 

“Hai.”

 

The door opened and Ayana silently entered, closing the door so softly that it seemed not to have made any sound. She smiled at her son, before taking a seat on his bed, having a clear view of Tezuka.

 

“How's the day?” she asked.

 

Her son was mildly intimidated with her sudden sweetness. “It's fine. Okaa-san, is there something the matter?” he added, not wanting to beat around the bush anymore.

 

Ayana feinted a hurt look. “I was just missing you, Kuni-chan! We never had bonding moments lately! You were so busy…”

 

Tezuka decided to ignore it and he returned his attention to his homework. It had been silent for the next few minutes, where Ayana merely watched her son do his work. This always happened; she would watch him for no reason at all. Tezuka knew that she was just lonely because she is alone in the house for almost the whole day.

 

“Your cousin Jirou just left for a project in France,” Ayana said. When no reply came from Tezuka, she frowned. “Kunimitsu? Are you okay?”

 

Tezuka sharply went back to his senses. “That's good,” he said at once. “Gomen nasai. I'm just thinking about some things.”

 

She smiled softly as she didn't reply and continued observing Tezuka silently. Lately, she has seen some changes in her son's attitude (because of what they call the mother's instincts, she was the only one to notice theses `changes' among the other people in the household). The stiffening, almost unnerving, stoic expression he always wore seem to look less intimidating now, and it was remarkable how he now spoke more than five sentences per hour. He became more outgoing these days; Ayana was even shocked to see him watching a sitcom on air in TV one night, when he was supposed to be locked up in his room, poring over page-long mathematical equations (but, as expected, he didn't find the comedy show funny). Is puberty acting its role again on her dear Kunimitsu, or has another factor contributed to his social life?

 

“Kunimitsu,” she said lightly, “Have you already kissed somebody passionately?”

 

The question was so randomly thrown at him that he wasn't able to hide his surprise when he looked at his mother.

 

Ayana laughed heartily, and Tezuka's look darkened in slight embarrassment for being caught with his guard down. His mother never asked him that. Only his ojii-san had the nerve to do so.

 

“You don't have to look so serious about it,” she said afterwards.

 

Tezuka had hid his emotion behind a hard-looking face. He couldn't remember the last time he felt embarrassed, but he was dead sure that it involved of a sadistic tensai that goes by the name of Fuji Syuusuke. The prodigy had once ceaselessly teased him about using derma products when he caught him emerging from a department store clutching a paper bag with the famous beauty product manufacturer's logo printed on it. The truth was that his mother's college peers had decided to celebrate their reunion in their residence, and Ayana had just ran out of the girly products, thus sending her slightly intimidated son to the nearest department store.

 

“No,” he said edgily, and he went back to writing his essay, unconsciously scribbling with more force. Why does everyone have that knack of asking him pointless questions?

 

Luckily, he wasn't able to see his mother's amused smile.

 

“Seriously,” Ayana said. “Since you stepped on middle school I've been expecting you to introduce me to girlfriends. But so far, the only girl you introduced to me was Fushiki-san.” Her face brightened when she realized something. “Don't tell me…she's—”

 

“No,” Tezuka cut in, still doing his homework. “It's not what you think it is. Nami went here for a group project we need to finish, nothing more, nothing less.”

 

“Oh?” Ayana said teasingly. “You're even in first-name terms with her…”

 

“It's because we've known each other since first grade.” Tezuka restrained himself from sighing at her silliness.

 

“I know, I know,” his mother said, getting onto her feet to prepare to leave. “I still need to prepare dinner. Sorry about that, Kunimitsu.”

 

“Daijobu, Okaa-san.”

 

Ayana was already near the door when she noticed her son's small table located just beside the door, which had some tennis equipment and a few picture frames. The tallest one was a photo of their family; Tezuka Kunikazu, the grandfather, sitting on a large sofa, with Ayana and Kuniharu, standing on either side of him, and of course Kunimitsu, who was looking impassive as he stood almost cheek-to-cheek with the photo's frame, as if forced to be included in the picture. The next photo, a rectangular one, was the former Seigaku team, where the captain was still Yamato-buchou and Tezuka was still a freshman. The third one was the same size, and it now depicted the current Seigaku.

 

Tezuka stood at the side, still noticeable despite the poor location, with Kawamura swinging his racket wildly beside him. Inui was on the other side with a maniacal grin. Fuji was smiling serenely by the data-man, and he looked like he was having so much fun. Eiji was squatting before the four, glomping a flustered Oishi and an irritated Ryoma, who had his white cap askew because of the acrobat's antics. Momo was posed like a superhero that just landed on the ground from the skies, his hands carefully poised on his hair, adding to the effect, while Kaidoh looked remorseful while he sat, looking away from the camera with his hands deep in his pockets.

 

Ayana smiled to herself and was about to leave when another thing caught her attention. Looking back, she realized she hadn't seen that there was another frame beside the current team photo. It showed Tezuka, in a pastel green shirt and jeans, standing beside a girl who looked like she was around the same age as him. Ayana wasn't able to see the face too clearly because of the bedroom light bouncing off the frame glass, but she already knew who it was by the silver necklace she wore around her neck.

 

“What is it, Okaa-san?”

 

The mother went back to her senses and smiled at his son, who was looking at her curiously. He followed where her gaze was a while ago, and stared at the pictures on his table.

 

“Kunimitsu,” Ayana said smilingly. “I didn't know you have a photo with Fushiki-san. What's more, you had put it in a frame for display.”

 

“She insisted me to put it that way,” he replied evenly.

 

“Sou ka,” she said wonderingly. “By the way, when would she return?”

 

“Tonight,” Tezuka said.

 

 

 

~>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+>+<+> +<+>+<~

 

 

 

 

End of Act xiv.

 

 

 

Author's Notes: Whew!!!! Sorry if I wasn't able to update immediately!! School is soooooo no cool. I think I'm gonna die with homework! Well, here's the chappie. I hope you enjoyed it! Umm…review?