Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Homecoming ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If TeniPuri was mine, I wouldn’t need to write fanfiction.

Warnings: cross-dressing, shounen ai (male/male action of the non-graphic variety), slight crack, some language

Pairings: Oishi/Eiji, Momo/Ryoma, Inui/Kaidoh, Fuji/Tezuka, some Taka/Fuji, Yuushi/Gakuto, Atobe/Jiroh, Shishido/Ootori, Mizuki/Yuuta, Dan/Akutsu/Sengoku

A/N: This fic is the product of fangirling at 1 AM at AWA (Anime Weekend Atlanta) with senshixdoukeshi, nacht_kind, and gladioulus_x_ivy while listening to Oshitari’s Place of My Heart. Doesn’t that song just scream “school dance” to you? Well, it did to us, and well... you can just read the rest.
Also, I’ve tried to use as little Japanese as possible, but left all honorifics in tact because English cannot properly convey their feel. And yes, I’m very aware that Homecoming is an American idea. That will be explained later.

Homecoming
by Solanum Dulcamara

Chapter 1:

It all began with a fateful practice of training matches, Inui juice, and new opportunities to collect data. The sun shone in a cloudless sky, presiding over a moderate day (perfect for a game of tennis), as the Seigaku regulars gathered around Inui to hear his latest program. The practice began innocently enough when Inui outlined pre-decided matches according to everyone’s strengths and weaknesses. Even promises of the newest incarnation of juice to the loser of each match didn’t turn any heads (though it did turn a few stomachs). The terror didn’t set .;’ into each regular until Inui casually mentioned that the losers would be obliged to perform other duties which would provide him with excellent observations. Imposed data opportunities were not to be taken lightly, so Oishi, as vice-captain, felt the responsibility to inquire further on behalf of the team (and for his own sense of self-preservation). “Inui, what kind of data opportunities are you talking about?” he tried to keep the anxiety he felt out of his voice, failing miserably as it cracked on every other syllable.

Fazed by neither the question nor the team’s blatant nervousness, Inui calmly adjusted his glasses before answering, “As you are all aware, a school dance is coming up,” he didn’t so much as pause in the confused tension that settled over his teammates, “This provides me the chance to witness certain players’ dexterity, grace, and poise.”

“Meaning?” That answer had done nothing to allay Oishi’s nervousness.

“Meaning the losers will attend the dance as the ‘fairer sex.’” Stunned silence met this declaration, before a cacophony of indignation and incredulity erupted.

“What?! There’s no way I’m wearing a dress... no way.”

“That’s just crazy, nya!”

“Fshuu... ‘fairer sex’?”

“But... but... we can’t... I mean... school policy...”

“Stupid senpai.”

“Eh?! Is that allowed, Fuji?”

Only two received the news silently. Tezuka stood with his usual stoic countenance, privately wondering if he let Inui have too free a rein. Fuji tilted head to the side, smiling thoughtfully. He was quite sure he could see the sadistic gleam in the data specialist’s glasses. “This should be interesting,” he thought, smile widening marginally.

It was Ryuzaki-sensei who brought order with a bark of, “Enough! You don’t want to wear a dress? Then win. It’s good incentive. First match: Momo! Kaidoh! On the courts, now!”

A very stunned set of sophomores stared at each other for a moment, then longtime rivalry set in, and the pair approached the courts with fierce determination in each step. The match was heated, almost violent, as pride made neither give an inch. In the end, an astoundingly well-feinted drop shot gave Momo the victory: 7 games to 5. Kaidoh was perhaps in shock as he accepted his juice placidly... before running for the bathroom upon it’s consumption. The remaining regulars exchanged worried looks, and Momo slumped against a fence in relief, exhaling a cheerful, “Lucky.”


Inui took careful note of the results of the match before his deep voice intoned, “Oishi, Kikumaru. You’re next.”

The Golden Pair shared glances of trepidation that gave way to competitiveness as they faced each other across the net. “I may not have won a match against you yet, Oishi~, but that’ll change today,” the team acrobat called while flipping his racket over the back of his hand. Oishi didn’t answer, his mouth set in a grim line, and served. An intense match of good-natured banter and determined smiles ensued as Seigaku’s synchronized doubles team read each other’s moves until a perfectly aimed corner-shot brought an abrupt end: 6-4, Oishi. “Mou! You always win,” Eiji whined, although his smile let his partner know there was no malice behind his words. He had apparently forgotten about the stakes. His exclamation of horror when presented with Inui’s frothing beverage caused all in the vicinity to cringe, and he couldn’t make it off the courts fast enough after chugging it as quickly as possible. Oishi watched his partner go with warring emotions: worry over Eiji’s well-being, happiness that he wasn’t on the receiving end of punishment, then guilt for wishing it on his partner rather than himself. He wasn’t given time to dwell on it, as Inui announced, “Next. Kawamura vs Fuji.”

Both walked onto the court silently, Taka swallowing, visibly nervous. Then Fuji handed him his racket with a softly spoken, “Here, Taka-san.”

“ORAORA! COME ON! NO DRESS FOR ME!” rang out over the school grounds and blue eyes opened briefly to meet the aggressive gaze across the court. The regulars looked on in shock as the game ended ridiculously quickly: 6 games love to Taka. As a pleasantly smiling Fuji approached Inui and the pitcher, Eiji cried from where he’d collapsed, “Fuji~! You didn’t even try.”

“Mn,” the prodigy agreed, sipping the drink as if tasting a fine wine, “I wanted to try the new juice, which is quite excellent by the way, Inui”

“But you’ll have to dress as a girl, too,” the redhead pointed out.

“Mn. It could be interesting,” he replied, setting his now empty glass on the table.

“Fuji-senpai can be freaky, ne Echizen?” Momo attempted to whisper to his underclassman, but Ryoma was preoccupied by staring at his default opponent. Although, blessed with tennis skills beyond what most players could dream of achieving, the freshman had yet to best Tezuka-buchou. At that moment, bespectacled eyes turned in his direction, and there was, Ryoma thought, a fierceness to the typically stern gaze. For the first time that he could remember, the young tennis prodigy was nervous about a match. He entered the court, steeling himself for what was likely to be a heated battle. What transpired, however, was more accurately described as a merciless slaughter. Ryoma was left on the court wondering how he’d lost, 6-0, in such a short span of time. Apparently, Tezuka was rather opposed to the proposition of attending a school dance in drag. The first year regular’s wail of anguish when forced to drink Inui’s foul concoction sent several members of the girls’ tennis team, which was practicing nearby, running for cover.

Momo cautiously approached his fallen friend. One never really knew the full side effects of experimental juice, after all. He called a soft, “Echizen,” and when answered by a groan, squatted next to the prone figure. Heavily lashed lids opened to reveal pained golden eyes and Momo sighed in sympathy. He couldn’t offer much to his best friend, but he’d give what he could. “Practice is over, want a ride?” After seeing Ryoma’s brief nod, little maneuvering was necessary to hoist the smaller boy onto his back. Oishi met him at the edge of the courts with both of their bags. Ever Seigaku's mother, the vice-captain was scampering between his collapsed doubles partner, the rest of the regulars and his post-practice supervision duties. The power player accepted the bags with an expression somewhere between a grin of appreciation and a grimace of sympathy, and threw a heartfelt, if hasty, “Sankyuu,” over his shoulder, heading for the bike rack.

Oishi’s attention was diverted from the pair of retreating backs by a wail of “Oishi~!” Poor Eiji! He shouldn’t have left him alone for so long. Hurrying back to the redhead’s side, he worriedly asked, “Are you alright?” Eiji, with his sweet-tooth, was always affected horribly by the juices. Briefly, the vice-captain entertained the notion of taking his partner to the infirmary... until this train of thought was interrupted by an accusation.

“This is all your fault!”

He sat rather numb in the face of his best friend’s words. Was it his fault? It’s true he had been playing a bit harder than usual but hadn’t Eiji as well? Could this somehow have been prevented, altogether? Perhaps if he’d taken more time to reason with Inui... although, the data specialist was hardly reasonable...”

Eiji’s words cut through his self-flagellation, “Since this is your fault, you have to take me to the dance.”

For the second time in a three minute span, Eiji had left Oishi speechless. The acrobatic player took a moment to savor the shocked expression on his partner’s face. He may have lost the match, but he wasn’t losing the game. There was no way Kikumaru Eiji was going through this humiliation alone. After all, the Golden Pair always had each other’s backs.

It took Oishi some time to recover, but when he did, he began his protest, “But Eiji, we’re both guys-”

“Hoi. But I’ll be dressed as a girl, so I should have a date, and you’re my best friend, so you’re taking me.”

“I’m the student body president. I helped plan this event.”

“So you were already going. What’s the problem? Unless... Do you have a date I don’t know about or something?!”

“What?! No!”

“Good. Neither do I. I was gonna go stag, but since things have changed, we’re going together. You can pick me up at 7:30.”

Eiji did have a point. Neither of them had dates and they were best friends. Even if he was president and they were both male, because circumstances were dictated by club activities, no one could really fault them, right? Besides, he could never really say no to Eiji. “Alright, but make it 7:00 because I’ve got to be there a little bit early.” Deep blue eyes lit up and Oishi found himself enveloped in a hug.

“Really, Oishi? Thanks, nya!” Eiji cried exuberantly. He knew Oishi would never abandon him. If Oishi was there with him, he wouldn’t have to worry about the dance, even in a dress. Oishi always took care of him. Speaking of which, “Mou~ Oishi. My tummy hurts. Why does Inui make us drink that horrible juice?”

With a smile the vice-captain helped his friend to his feet. “Because our suffering apparently provides ‘good data’.” The doubles pair made their way to the club house, one supporting the other, quietly laughing together.

Fuji watched them go with mild interest, before turning to the taller of his two current companions, “You’re working refreshments at he upcoming event, aren’t you, Taka-san?”

A small smile stretched across Taka’s face as he nodded, “Oishi spoke to me about it a month ago.”

“Mn,” the prodigy mused aloud, “Then I suppose it’s a good thing you won in your match against me.”

Brown eyes widened in realization and Taka stammered, “And for that, I thank you greatly, Fuji,” before nervously hurrying away without so much as a ‘see you tomorrow’.

Icy blue eyes watched the large figure exit, then fixed their gaze on the unreadable expression of his remaining teammate. Tezuka looked toward him, a question in his non-expression. “You previously had no intentions of attending the impending gala,” the prodigy began; not a question or an accusation, a simple and accurate observation. He noted the miniscule raising of Tezuka’s left eyebrow, as the captain answered, “And that’s changed?”

Fuji mentally congratulated himself on being able to predict Tezuka so well and continued, “Well, as the dance has become inexorably entwined with club activities, it would be improprietous for the captain to be absent.”

Tezuka said nothing, but the prodigy had expected this response, and as such, barely paused, “As I now find myself with the obligation of attending as a female, I, in turn, find myself in need of escort, assuming myself to be a proper lady, of course. Because you originally had no plans, I believe the most efficient course of action is for your to accompany me. It provides an excellent example for team morale for you to take an active role in Inui’s experiment. I doubt you’ll find any objections.”

Tezuka, for his part, found no flaws in Fuji’s suggestion... merely Inui’s experiment. But as captain, it was his responsibility to make a good show for the team. Besides, escorting Fuji was not an altogether objectionable prospect. The prodigy was an excellent conversationalist and his presence tended to be rather soothing. In reply, Tezuka nodded once, before turning back to the freshmen who were sweeping the courts.

Accepting the curt answer with a smile, Fuji made his way to the club house to gather his belongings for the journey home.

Meanwhile, Inui found Kaidoh in the nearest men’s lavatory, laying on the tile floor. He immediately bent to check his teammate’s vitals. Upon finding everything in order, he realized Kaidoh had simply passed out. He smiled slightly at the unconscious boy. His juices did tend to affect Kaidoh more dramatically than others. Bracing his smaller teammate in one arm, Inui set about gently waking Seigaku’s viper. Bleary sable eyes opened and studied their current surroundings for a moment, before a light pink spread over Kaidoh’s face. Hiding his amusement, Inui helped his underclassman sit up and inquired, “How do you feel?”

The sophomore took time to consider, then responded gruffly, “Slightly dizzy and nauseous, but not overly so.”

The maker of the cause of said dizziness and nausea nodded in acceptance of the admission and handed Kaidoh a water bottle, which was accepted gratefully. A period of silence passed as Kaidoh drained the bottle. He then looked into eyes unseen behind thick lenses and asked, “Senpai, your juices are actually beneficial to health, right?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t drink them if they weren’t.”

“Ah...” It was not lost on Kaidoh that Inui didn’t claim he wouldn’t have given the juices to his teammates. Having received an honest, if vaguely disturbing answer, the sophomore lapsed into a thoughtful silence.

The data specialist observed the crease in his underclassman’s brow, did a few mental calculations, and drew a conclusion. “You’re nervous about attending the dance in a dress.”

Dark eyes widened slightly in surprise and a flush settled over bronze cheeks as the sophomore struggled to respond, “Well, fshuu... I won’t look as good as Fuji-senpai, Kikumaru-senpai, or Echizen.”

That answer was unexpected. But, Inui noted, Kaidoh had a tendency to occasionally throw off his data. He did, however, possess the knowledge to relieve a few of his teammate’s worries. “That won’t be a problem,” he reported succinctly, “Judging by your facial features and build, and taking into account the way you move, I predict you have an 89% probability of making a more than respectable display at Homecoming.” His desired result was achieved as Kaidoh’s attractive flush deepened to a full blush. To avoid awkwardness, he simply helped his teammate to his feet offering a parting bit of solace, “You have two weeks to prepare. I’m sure you’ll be fine,” and left Kaidoh standing with the empty water bottle in the bathroom.

Several blocks away, a purple bike whipped down a hill, Momo at the pedals, Ryoma standing on the pegs with his hands grasping his larger teammate’s shoulders. Ten minutes passed with only the sound of rushing wind, until Momo broke the companionable silence, “So, you’ve gotta go to the dance as a chick. Bummer. Were you even planning going?”

“Not really,” the freshman answered with a sigh, “What do I know about dressing as a girl? I guess I could ask my cousin for help. She’s not likely to tell Pops.” Realization hit Ryoma with the force of a twist serve to the face. There was no way he could let his dad find out about this. He’d never live it down. If he couldn’t get a ride to school from his dad, what could he do? There was no way he’d walk all that way in a dress. Then he had an idea. “Hey, Momo-senpai, could you give me a ride to the dance?”

Momo’s pedaling faltered a bit at the thought, and though he wasn’t sure why, his stomach clenched strangely. Weird stomach sensations aside, he couldn’t find any reasons not to give Ryoma a ride, so with a shrug under Ryoma’s firm grip, he answered, “Sure. Does this mean I’m you date?” He snickered at his jibe until he heard, “Yeah. Then you have to buy my ticket.” Damn. He hadn't thought of that. Oh well. The tickets weren’t that expensive. “That Inui-senpai is crazy,” Momo groused good-naturedly. Ryoma couldn’t agree more. “He must have been a mad scientist in his last life.”

“Are you kidding? He’s a mad scientist in this life.”

The playful talk extended to jokes about all of their friends’ past lives until arriving at the Echizen residence. As his younger teammate hopped off the bike, Momo suggested, oddly nervous, “I can pick up the tickets tomorrow during homeroom, and we can figure out any other details later.”

Ryoma only offered a nonchalant, “Sure,” over his shoulder as he entered the gate to his home, leaving his senpai to make his own way home.

That night, in several houses across the Tokyo suburbs, female family members displayed various stages of excitement. In a western-style two-story, two girls squealed with glee. “We get to dress up Eiji-otouto-chan! Just like when were younger!” Several blocks away in a tasteful and spacious house, Fuji Yumiko assessed her younger brother, “This won’t be a particularly difficult task, Syuusuke. But I’ll still enjoy it immensely.” And in a temple dwelling, a college student giggled behind her hand after receiving a reluctant request for aid and wondered what events could have lead to Ryoma-san dressing as a girl. Kaidoh, for his part, lay in bed, solemnly swearing that his family would never learn of this disgrace.

Glossary:
-buchou: captain
-chan: honorific suffix used generally between girls or for young boys, denotes cuteness
fshuu: hissing sound
mou: a sound of displeasure
nya: meow, an Eiji-ism
ora: sound denoting psyching up before a battle/contest/match
otouto: younger brother
-san: the most common honorific suffix, generally means Mr./Mrs./Ms./etc.
sankyuu: Japanese pronunciation of thank you
-senpai: upperclassman
-sensei: “one who came before”, in this case teacher