Challenge # 1: FujiRyo ficcy for jgal87-san
Alright! I finally finished the challenge of Jgal-san. :D Well, it’s not that good as usual but it’s...tolerable? x_x
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Title: Untitled [I haven’t thought of any suitable for this. Suggestions? ^_^]
Date: Started April 20 2005, Ended April 22 2005
Fandom: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama
Rating: G to PG
Description: This is the short ficcy I made for jgal87-san. :D FujiRyo, one shot. Reviews/comments welcome. :p Flames welcome tolerated. :P Oh, and I don't own PoT.
Ryoma Echizen rolls his eyes as he walks in the city park that fine, sunny Sunday afternoon. He has spent half the day away from his house, away from his father, who is undoubtedly reading pR0n magazines lazing around the house, and his cousin Nanako. The reason? Nanako had requested that morning for the sluggish man to do some tasks around the house-- and to the college student, the word some meaning any number less than twenty. Or at least when it came to handling chores. Nanjiroh had, of course, tried to con Ryoma into handling it, the jobs consisting of mowing the lawn, tidying here and there around the house, so on, so forth. The black-haired boy had then left the house immediately, his excuse being ‘self-training’, though Nanjiroh knew very well that that wasn’t true.
Ryoma adjusts the tennis bag on his shoulders, and takes a sip of the already-warm Ponta he has been holding for almost half an hour. He shakes the can lightly, and hears the drops of water rattling around inside. There is hardly anything left, and he lifts and is about to throw the can into the nearest wastebasket when he hears a familiar voice say his name.
“Echizen?”
Ryoma raises his head and sees a tall figure, wearing a comfortable white polo and pants. “Fuji-sempai.” He accidentally drops the can, but doesn’t make a move to pick it up. What is the upperclassman doing on an afternoon like this? He looks down to see a number of shopping bags in his hands. “Shopping?”
Fuji smiles, as he usually does. “Neesan was busy, so I offered to do it.” He notices Ryoma’s tennis bag, and queries, “Have you been playing tennis?” Ryoma answers coolly, “Not today.” Curious as to why the black-haired boy was carrying around his tennis bag when he had not been playing, Fuji asks him. Ryoma doesn’t want to lie to the older student, but figures he has to, in case Fuji would ‘accidentally’ tell someone...
A thought comes into his mind.
No. Fuji-sempai wouldn’t tell anyone.
The freshman confesses reluctantly that he is ‘hiding’ from his dad and older cousin, and all the while Fuji listens intently, as if he is very used to younger students telling him things like that. When Ryoma finishes, Fuji pauses and offers, “Why don’t you come with me for a while? I have another chore to do.”
Now, Ryoma isn’t sure whether he wants to accompany the brunette on whatever chore he had to do. In all honesty, he would rather spend his time wandering the streets, which was actually what he was doing before Fuji showed up. And he tells him so. Not in so many words, and in a way very unlike his usual blunt manner.
“I don’t want to interrupt you, Fuji-sempai.”
Fuji chuckles. “Of course not. I wouldn’t ask you if it would disturb me, Echizen.”
The dark-haired boy pulls his cap down to cover up the fact that his eyes are somewhere else. “No thank you, sempai.” He finally bends down to pick up the Ponta can, tossing it over at the wastebasket. It goes in. Fuji lets the smile drop from his face, something he does so that people will show a kind of sympathy for him, but Ryoma seems unfazed. Inwardly, the brunette smiles.
“Why don’t you give it a try, Echizen,” Fuji says. “It’s nothing bad, I promise you. You might even like it.”
After a few minutes of cool conversation, Fuji leaves the park, smiling. But he isn’t alone, for he is trailed by a sulking, still stubborn Ryoma. Obviously Ryoma isn’t very up to spending half an hour, maybe the rest of the day with someone he doesn’t know all that well. Momoshiro is different, for the two have some things in common. But Fuji?
* * *
Ryoma blinks as Fuji leads him into a store where many people, the majority teenagers, are playing games. A game arcade? He looks up at Fuji, who looks like he goes there all the time. The upperclassman speaks to the man behind the counter, presumably about the tennis bag Ryoma is carrying. The man offers to keep the bag behind the counter, for it may be an obstruction to other customers. Ryoma refuses. Fuji speaks to the man for a little longer, in hushed tones, and after a while, Fuji looks back at the black-haired boy and motions for him to follow him.
“Is this your chore, Fuji-sempai?” Ryoma asks him, but his question is ignored. Fuji brings him into an adjacent room, separated from the main gamers’ room by a western-style door. Ryoma raises an eyebrow at this while Fuji turns on the lights. The lights illuminate a line of arcade games, lined up against the wall, a few old-fashioned stations --the kind where you have to kill aliens from outer space, et cetera-- and an air hockey table. Fuji speaks directly to Ryoma for the first time since they entered the place, “Is there anything you would like to play?”
Ryoma puts his tennis bag on top of one of the stations, wiping the top before he does so. When he looks at his hand, he finds it a little dusty, and wipes it on his shorts. He eyes the air-hockey table, and Fuji, noticing his gaze, says, “Air hockey it is.” The grocery bags he puts under the table. Fuji finds the paddles for the game and hands one to Ryoma, who is particularly confused. Is this a chore? He smirks. Fuji-sempai must be slacking off.
“Shall we begin?” Fuji asks, holding the paddle in his right hand. Ryoma pulls back his cap. “Of course, Fuji-sempai.” He was actually looking forward to it.
* * *
Outside the room, a certain St. Rudolph player moves controls and pushes buttons constantly, without any sign of stopping. Sweat beads his face, even though the air-conditioning is at full blast. With one swift move, he manages to destroy three aliens. “Got it!”
A black-haired boy wearing a white sweater with full red hearts finishes talking on his cellphone to another person, and turns to look at his companion. “Are you done yet, Yuuta-kun?” he asks.
Yuuta Fuji doesn’t turn to face him. “I told you that you didn’t have to accompany me, Mizuki-san.” He pauses the game and takes a gulp of water from his bottle. At this, Mizuki says, “Nonsense, Yuuta-kun. I don’t mind at all.”
The two have been in the game store even before Fuji and Ryoma entered. However, the tw,o for reasons unknown to mankind, hadn’t noticed them. Yuuta continues the game for a few minutes longer, and as he is about to make the top score...
The lights turn off.
Yuuta pounds the game station with his fists and says, “Damn! I thought I’d make it for sure.” Mizuki chuckles. “I think it’s time to return?” He moves a bit, then says, “But I’ll visit the men’s room first.” The brunette looks at him (or at least he thinks he does, for he cannot see a thing). “I think I’ll go, too” he says, and the two open the door to the adjoining room where Fuji and Ryoma were, game interrupted.
* * *
The two regulars stop moving as the lights turn off. Ryoma drops the paddle. “We never get to end anything, do we, sempai?”
Fuji smiles. “I suppose we should finish this?...” The two raise their paddles again, only for the door to open. “Is anyone there?” Yuuta asks. Fuji recognizes his brother’s voice. “Yuuta,” he says cheerily. “What are you doing here?” Yuuta isn’t smiling. “Trying to escape your calls?” he suggests.
Mizuki makes a comment, but no one hears it. The brunette looks over at his underclassman.
Fuji’s face shows disappointment, but barely. It isn’t obvious to those who don’t know him that well. “I thought we’d be able to finish at least this match, Echizen,” he says.
Ryoma lets out a sigh. “Mada mada dane, Fuji-sempai.”
~ owari ~
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You can also request/challenge me to make you a fanfic/fanart, anything from any show that I’ve watched. You can pick a relationship, a story arc, a missing scene, a random character, pretty much anything and I’ll make it for you. :)
Oh, and I’ve decided to follow jgal87-san and post my fanfiction/fanart as Public, because I bet some of my friends (maybe even teachers) are trying to see if I’m alive and all. XD If I’m in the mood, I might even post them in Communities, who knows. Lol. But the stuff I don’t post here will be at xxmarinebluexx, my fanfiction/fanart/poetry journal. :D Love! ♥
Crossposted to _tenipuri, fuji_ryo and fiction_writers
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Title: Untitled [I haven’t thought of any suitable for this. Suggestions? ^_^]
Date: Started April 20 2005, Ended April 22 2005
Fandom: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama
Rating: G to PG
Description: This is the short ficcy I made for jgal87-san. :D FujiRyo, one shot. Reviews/comments welcome. :p Flames welcome tolerated. :P Oh, and I don't own PoT.
Ryoma Echizen rolls his eyes as he walks in the city park that fine, sunny Sunday afternoon. He has spent half the day away from his house, away from his father, who is undoubtedly reading pR0n magazines lazing around the house, and his cousin Nanako. The reason? Nanako had requested that morning for the sluggish man to do some tasks around the house-- and to the college student, the word some meaning any number less than twenty. Or at least when it came to handling chores. Nanjiroh had, of course, tried to con Ryoma into handling it, the jobs consisting of mowing the lawn, tidying here and there around the house, so on, so forth. The black-haired boy had then left the house immediately, his excuse being ‘self-training’, though Nanjiroh knew very well that that wasn’t true.
Ryoma adjusts the tennis bag on his shoulders, and takes a sip of the already-warm Ponta he has been holding for almost half an hour. He shakes the can lightly, and hears the drops of water rattling around inside. There is hardly anything left, and he lifts and is about to throw the can into the nearest wastebasket when he hears a familiar voice say his name.
“Echizen?”
Ryoma raises his head and sees a tall figure, wearing a comfortable white polo and pants. “Fuji-sempai.” He accidentally drops the can, but doesn’t make a move to pick it up. What is the upperclassman doing on an afternoon like this? He looks down to see a number of shopping bags in his hands. “Shopping?”
Fuji smiles, as he usually does. “Neesan was busy, so I offered to do it.” He notices Ryoma’s tennis bag, and queries, “Have you been playing tennis?” Ryoma answers coolly, “Not today.” Curious as to why the black-haired boy was carrying around his tennis bag when he had not been playing, Fuji asks him. Ryoma doesn’t want to lie to the older student, but figures he has to, in case Fuji would ‘accidentally’ tell someone...
A thought comes into his mind.
No. Fuji-sempai wouldn’t tell anyone.
The freshman confesses reluctantly that he is ‘hiding’ from his dad and older cousin, and all the while Fuji listens intently, as if he is very used to younger students telling him things like that. When Ryoma finishes, Fuji pauses and offers, “Why don’t you come with me for a while? I have another chore to do.”
Now, Ryoma isn’t sure whether he wants to accompany the brunette on whatever chore he had to do. In all honesty, he would rather spend his time wandering the streets, which was actually what he was doing before Fuji showed up. And he tells him so. Not in so many words, and in a way very unlike his usual blunt manner.
“I don’t want to interrupt you, Fuji-sempai.”
Fuji chuckles. “Of course not. I wouldn’t ask you if it would disturb me, Echizen.”
The dark-haired boy pulls his cap down to cover up the fact that his eyes are somewhere else. “No thank you, sempai.” He finally bends down to pick up the Ponta can, tossing it over at the wastebasket. It goes in. Fuji lets the smile drop from his face, something he does so that people will show a kind of sympathy for him, but Ryoma seems unfazed. Inwardly, the brunette smiles.
“Why don’t you give it a try, Echizen,” Fuji says. “It’s nothing bad, I promise you. You might even like it.”
After a few minutes of cool conversation, Fuji leaves the park, smiling. But he isn’t alone, for he is trailed by a sulking, still stubborn Ryoma. Obviously Ryoma isn’t very up to spending half an hour, maybe the rest of the day with someone he doesn’t know all that well. Momoshiro is different, for the two have some things in common. But Fuji?
* * *
Ryoma blinks as Fuji leads him into a store where many people, the majority teenagers, are playing games. A game arcade? He looks up at Fuji, who looks like he goes there all the time. The upperclassman speaks to the man behind the counter, presumably about the tennis bag Ryoma is carrying. The man offers to keep the bag behind the counter, for it may be an obstruction to other customers. Ryoma refuses. Fuji speaks to the man for a little longer, in hushed tones, and after a while, Fuji looks back at the black-haired boy and motions for him to follow him.
“Is this your chore, Fuji-sempai?” Ryoma asks him, but his question is ignored. Fuji brings him into an adjacent room, separated from the main gamers’ room by a western-style door. Ryoma raises an eyebrow at this while Fuji turns on the lights. The lights illuminate a line of arcade games, lined up against the wall, a few old-fashioned stations --the kind where you have to kill aliens from outer space, et cetera-- and an air hockey table. Fuji speaks directly to Ryoma for the first time since they entered the place, “Is there anything you would like to play?”
Ryoma puts his tennis bag on top of one of the stations, wiping the top before he does so. When he looks at his hand, he finds it a little dusty, and wipes it on his shorts. He eyes the air-hockey table, and Fuji, noticing his gaze, says, “Air hockey it is.” The grocery bags he puts under the table. Fuji finds the paddles for the game and hands one to Ryoma, who is particularly confused. Is this a chore? He smirks. Fuji-sempai must be slacking off.
“Shall we begin?” Fuji asks, holding the paddle in his right hand. Ryoma pulls back his cap. “Of course, Fuji-sempai.” He was actually looking forward to it.
* * *
Outside the room, a certain St. Rudolph player moves controls and pushes buttons constantly, without any sign of stopping. Sweat beads his face, even though the air-conditioning is at full blast. With one swift move, he manages to destroy three aliens. “Got it!”
A black-haired boy wearing a white sweater with full red hearts finishes talking on his cellphone to another person, and turns to look at his companion. “Are you done yet, Yuuta-kun?” he asks.
Yuuta Fuji doesn’t turn to face him. “I told you that you didn’t have to accompany me, Mizuki-san.” He pauses the game and takes a gulp of water from his bottle. At this, Mizuki says, “Nonsense, Yuuta-kun. I don’t mind at all.”
The two have been in the game store even before Fuji and Ryoma entered. However, the tw,o for reasons unknown to mankind, hadn’t noticed them. Yuuta continues the game for a few minutes longer, and as he is about to make the top score...
The lights turn off.
Yuuta pounds the game station with his fists and says, “Damn! I thought I’d make it for sure.” Mizuki chuckles. “I think it’s time to return?” He moves a bit, then says, “But I’ll visit the men’s room first.” The brunette looks at him (or at least he thinks he does, for he cannot see a thing). “I think I’ll go, too” he says, and the two open the door to the adjoining room where Fuji and Ryoma were, game interrupted.
* * *
The two regulars stop moving as the lights turn off. Ryoma drops the paddle. “We never get to end anything, do we, sempai?”
Fuji smiles. “I suppose we should finish this?...” The two raise their paddles again, only for the door to open. “Is anyone there?” Yuuta asks. Fuji recognizes his brother’s voice. “Yuuta,” he says cheerily. “What are you doing here?” Yuuta isn’t smiling. “Trying to escape your calls?” he suggests.
Mizuki makes a comment, but no one hears it. The brunette looks over at his underclassman.
Fuji’s face shows disappointment, but barely. It isn’t obvious to those who don’t know him that well. “I thought we’d be able to finish at least this match, Echizen,” he says.
Ryoma lets out a sigh. “Mada mada dane, Fuji-sempai.”
~ owari ~
* * *
You can also request/challenge me to make you a fanfic/fanart, anything from any show that I’ve watched. You can pick a relationship, a story arc, a missing scene, a random character, pretty much anything and I’ll make it for you. :)
Oh, and I’ve decided to follow jgal87-san and post my fanfiction/fanart as Public, because I bet some of my friends (maybe even teachers) are trying to see if I’m alive and all. XD If I’m in the mood, I might even post them in Communities, who knows. Lol. But the stuff I don’t post here will be at xxmarinebluexx, my fanfiction/fanart/poetry journal. :D Love! ♥
Crossposted to _tenipuri, fuji_ryo and fiction_writers