Mirror Image [PoT; Nanjiroh]
Title: Mirror Image
Fandom: PoT
Word Count: ~600
Notes: for giving_ground in the drabble meme here. Nanjiroh returns to Seigaku, as they plan to return to Japan pre-canon.
It was spring when he came back to Seigaku, just about late enough that it would be worth pulling the roller over the court in the garden - or hiring someone else to do it. Rinko would probably have sorted Ryoma’s school herself if he’d said no, but she tended to focus on unimportant things like academics and forget the essentials. With Ryoma still playing kids’ tennis, it wouldn’t be interesting if he got any worse, so here he was.
Seigaku was much as he remembered it: same old buildings, same old trees, same old ‘keep of the grass’ signs that everyone ignored. The tennis courts were in the same spot but at some point someone had coughed up for them to be resurfaced and they weren’t too dreadful. He’d have coughed up too, if Ryuuzaki was badgering him.
“Nanjiroh,” Ryuuzaki said with a smile, as he walked into her office without knocking. She looked old - it had been a good ten years - and he very nearly came out and told her. “It was a surprise to get your letter. You’ll want a copy of the prospectus.”
“What? Oh, yeah. Later.” Rinko would want to see it, after all. “But the tennis?”
Ryuuzaki laughed and he fought the urge to shuffle like a kid caught skiving practice for a date.
“We get by. Most of them will be gone by the time Ryoma arrives but there’s a first year you might be interested in. We should have a strong team, in a couple of years.”
Tennis at Seigaku had never been like tennis anywhere else. No one had really challenged him since he left, as if all the half-decent players got swallowed up by desk jobs as soon as they graduated. Rikkai had something of that too and if Seigaku’s kids looked boring, he’d look there next, school loyalty or not.
He fended off her polite conversation and looked out of the window.
“That skinny kid on A court,” he said a few seconds later.
“Good eyes. He reminds me of you.”
The kid wasn’t all that bad, for someone close to Ryoma’s age. His form wasn’t great, though, and she’d never have let Nanjiroh get away with that.
“You let him play right-handed? You’re getting soft, woman.”
As they watched, the kids gathered up and started their cool-down exercises. Boring stuff. Nanjiroh claimed the desk chair and picked up a tennis magazine. He looked up when someone knocked on the door.
“Ryuuzaki-sensei, are there announcements before we go?”
She smiled at the kid - the captain, then - and they both ignored Nanjiroh’s presence.
“Give Tezuka-kun a match, after the others have gone, and tell him to play left-handed.”
Oho, so maybe she hadn’t noticed. Losing her touch in her old age. He was almost interested as the boy slipped out, giving him a look that almost made Nanjiroh suspect he’d been identified.
It turned out that Ryuuzaki was right - the kid’s tennis was vaguely interesting. He beat his captain without breaking a sweat, but ingrained in the flow of his moves were echoes of Muga no Kyouchi.
“Expect Ryoma the spring after next,” he said and picked up the prospectus, rolling it up and stuffing it in the back pocket of his jeans. She laughed smugly. Nanjiroh’s no idiot, though, and Seigaku looked to be where the decent tennis was.
Tezuka and his captain were leaving together when Nanjiroh reached the school gates. The captain nodded and Tezuka murmured a painfully formal greeting.
Like him? Ha! He’d believe that when he saw it.
“Hey, mada mada dane, kid.”
Fandom: PoT
Word Count: ~600
Notes: for giving_ground in the drabble meme here. Nanjiroh returns to Seigaku, as they plan to return to Japan pre-canon.
It was spring when he came back to Seigaku, just about late enough that it would be worth pulling the roller over the court in the garden - or hiring someone else to do it. Rinko would probably have sorted Ryoma’s school herself if he’d said no, but she tended to focus on unimportant things like academics and forget the essentials. With Ryoma still playing kids’ tennis, it wouldn’t be interesting if he got any worse, so here he was.
Seigaku was much as he remembered it: same old buildings, same old trees, same old ‘keep of the grass’ signs that everyone ignored. The tennis courts were in the same spot but at some point someone had coughed up for them to be resurfaced and they weren’t too dreadful. He’d have coughed up too, if Ryuuzaki was badgering him.
“Nanjiroh,” Ryuuzaki said with a smile, as he walked into her office without knocking. She looked old - it had been a good ten years - and he very nearly came out and told her. “It was a surprise to get your letter. You’ll want a copy of the prospectus.”
“What? Oh, yeah. Later.” Rinko would want to see it, after all. “But the tennis?”
Ryuuzaki laughed and he fought the urge to shuffle like a kid caught skiving practice for a date.
“We get by. Most of them will be gone by the time Ryoma arrives but there’s a first year you might be interested in. We should have a strong team, in a couple of years.”
Tennis at Seigaku had never been like tennis anywhere else. No one had really challenged him since he left, as if all the half-decent players got swallowed up by desk jobs as soon as they graduated. Rikkai had something of that too and if Seigaku’s kids looked boring, he’d look there next, school loyalty or not.
He fended off her polite conversation and looked out of the window.
“That skinny kid on A court,” he said a few seconds later.
“Good eyes. He reminds me of you.”
The kid wasn’t all that bad, for someone close to Ryoma’s age. His form wasn’t great, though, and she’d never have let Nanjiroh get away with that.
“You let him play right-handed? You’re getting soft, woman.”
As they watched, the kids gathered up and started their cool-down exercises. Boring stuff. Nanjiroh claimed the desk chair and picked up a tennis magazine. He looked up when someone knocked on the door.
“Ryuuzaki-sensei, are there announcements before we go?”
She smiled at the kid - the captain, then - and they both ignored Nanjiroh’s presence.
“Give Tezuka-kun a match, after the others have gone, and tell him to play left-handed.”
Oho, so maybe she hadn’t noticed. Losing her touch in her old age. He was almost interested as the boy slipped out, giving him a look that almost made Nanjiroh suspect he’d been identified.
It turned out that Ryuuzaki was right - the kid’s tennis was vaguely interesting. He beat his captain without breaking a sweat, but ingrained in the flow of his moves were echoes of Muga no Kyouchi.
“Expect Ryoma the spring after next,” he said and picked up the prospectus, rolling it up and stuffing it in the back pocket of his jeans. She laughed smugly. Nanjiroh’s no idiot, though, and Seigaku looked to be where the decent tennis was.
Tezuka and his captain were leaving together when Nanjiroh reached the school gates. The captain nodded and Tezuka murmured a painfully formal greeting.
Like him? Ha! He’d believe that when he saw it.
“Hey, mada mada dane, kid.”