(no subject)

[kat8cha]

Ryoma tipped his head back, shaking the last dregs of ponta from the can before tossing it in the recycling bin.

Oishi-senpai had set them up around the school once he realized that the tennis team went through several dozen recyclable containers, of milk, of juice, of soda or water, and none of them recycled it. So in an effort to save face, and the world, Oishi had written up proposals for the environmental protection club.

 

“Tch.” Ryoma kicked the side of the blue container before walking away his tennis bag bobbing against his back. There were recycling tubs all over America.

 

Walking towards a familiar empty playground Ryoma’s steps slowed when he realized it wasn’t empty. Someone, in a familiar jersey, was sitting swinging on the swings. Fuji’s feet brushed the ground as he barely put any effort into keeping his momentum, the swing creaking as it moved back and forth.

 

“Fuji-senpai.” Ryoma greeted, his feet crunching as he walked across the woodchips that covered the playground. Fuji looked up and the suddenness of the motion let Ryoma know that Fuji had been surprised.

 

“Echizen.” Fuji’s smile slowly spread across his lips, the frown transforming from the inside out. “I didn’t know you liked this park.”

 

“I don’t.” Echizen set his bag down next to Fuji’s, taking the swing to Fuji’s right. Standing on the rounded rubber he started swinging back and forth, faster then Fuji was. “I come here to think.”

 

“Doesn’t that imply you like it?” Fuji stopped swinging to turn and watch Ryoma.

 

“No. I don’t think about nice things here.” This was not where Ryoma thought about crushing tennis opponents or Karupin. Ryoma thought about confusing things in this park, things like how Tezuka-buchou looked just after he stepped out of the team’s showers, his hair wet and dripping and his eyes unprotected by his glasses. Ryoma thought about that curious warmth in his stomach when Eiji called him Ochibi, or the way his body felt too hot sometimes when Momo grabbed him.

 

“Well then,” Fuji hummed thoughtfully. Fuji-senpai could make any noise sound thoughtful Ryoma thought dismissively. He could blow a raspberry and make it sound like he was contemplating Voltaire. “I guess I don’t like this park either.”

 

“What’re you here to think about?” Ryoma dropped onto the ground, sitting on the seat instead of standing. Fuji started up his swinging in sync with Ryoma.

 

“That would be telling Echizen-kun. What about you?”

 

“That would be telling Fuji-senpai.” Ryoma snarked.

 

“Touché.” Fuji chuckled, then abruptly stopped. “Ah, well, my ride is here.” He nodded in the direction of a bright red sports car which contained a well developed woman. Ryoma had to guess she was Fuji’s sister, but knowing Fuji it would probably be his mother, or his aunt, just so he could be confusing.

 

“Hmph.” Ryoma didn’t say ‘see you at practice’ or ‘goodbye’. Ryoma make ambiguous statements as often as he could when it came to small talk.

 

“Good bye Ryoma-kun.” Fuji picked up his bag. “I’ll see you at practice.”

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