Title: Never So Simple
Author: Kentra Shinataku
Pairings: Momo/Ryoma
**********
He shuffled to the library, hat shading his eyes as usual. Had Inui-senpai been around, he would have noticed that it was a pulled down a few centimeters more than normal. Fortunately, the stalkerish senior wasn't around, and Ryoma could get this over with, no questions asked. He hated going to the library.
It really had an impressive collection of books for a school library, had he cared to read them. He was well aware of their intimidating mass, he just greatly preferred to ignore it. He didn't have to worry about his grades much, if ever, and he didn't need a lot of book smarts to play tennis.
The only real use for a room filled with useless books was so one of his useless teachers could assign him a useless assignment that would, in the future, prove completely useless. If it wasn't worth so much of his grade, he wouldn't have done it.
As it was, he didn't know why he cared. Even if he got low marks, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. His mother would go off and be upset in her own little quiet way, that her son wasn't trying his best, and how she failed as a mother, and how she hoped nothing was wrong to make his grades fall, and he should really talk to her more. His father would smirk and ask him what was really on his mind when he should have been studying, while his mortified cousin would say "Uncle!" in _that_ tone.
He generally tried to avoid the hassle.
It took him a few minutes to find the section he was looking for (he'd never quite understood why books couldn't be classified more simply), and he sighed, staring up at the towering shelves. Why put the books so high? He wouldn't have been able to reach those even if he was taller.
Ryoma stared blankly at the sides of books, facing, once again, the reason he hated libraries so much. It was a history book he was trying to find, about World War II. His teacher hadn't written the title on the board.
"Oi, Echizen!"
Ryoma's shoulders tensed, but not noticeably, and he tilted his head a little in the direction the fairly loud shout came from. The plan was to get in and out of here without any unpleasant encounters.
"Momo-senpai, didn't anybody tell you to be quiet in a library?"
Momo ignored the little retort. "What are you here for? I have to find a novel to report for Japanese class, ch, so boring!"
"This is the history section; I think the novels are over there," Ryoma said, indicating the shelves across the library.
Momo grinned, pulling off Ryoma's hat and ruffling his hair in a way that Ryoma should have minded. "Ah, I know. But I think I know what I'm gonna do, anyways. Besides, you just looked so bored over here, I couldn't resist."
"Ah..." Ryoma went back to staring at the shelves, scanning over the titles.
"What are you looking for?" Momo intruded, leaning over his shoulder to look at the same row of books.
"It's... It's called 'Blood for Dignity', I think..."
"Echizen, it's right here," Momo said, frowning. He pulled a book off the shelf that Ryoma had just passed over, and Ryoma felt his cheeks burn. "There's three copies of it here, how'd you miss that?"
But Momo didn't laugh like Ryoma expected him to.
"Thank you," Ryoma said, reaching for the book in Momo's hand.
Momo didn't say anything else while Ryoma checked out the book at the desk, and he seemed to forget all about his need for a Japanese novel. They walked out the door together, unconsciously gravitating toward the tennis club room where both their bags were.
Ryoma was happy with the silence, but Momo felt the need to break it.
"It's because you were raised in America, right?"
Ryoma lowered his head, further hiding his eyes beneath his hat. "It's nothing. I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm not going to make fun of you Echizen."
From beneath his hat, Ryoma dared a glance into Momo's serious, violet eyes. There was no sign of laughter in them.
"I have some trouble reading the kanji," he admitted, speaking in a low tone, as if anyone was near enough to hear, "I never really learned enough of them."
Momo shrugged, "It makes sense. There's a lot them."
"Momo-senpai?"
"Hm?"
"Thanks," Ryoma muttered, looking back at the sidewalk.
Momo put his arm on Ryoma's shoulder, "Any time."
***
Author: Kentra Shinataku
Pairings: Momo/Ryoma
**********
He shuffled to the library, hat shading his eyes as usual. Had Inui-senpai been around, he would have noticed that it was a pulled down a few centimeters more than normal. Fortunately, the stalkerish senior wasn't around, and Ryoma could get this over with, no questions asked. He hated going to the library.
It really had an impressive collection of books for a school library, had he cared to read them. He was well aware of their intimidating mass, he just greatly preferred to ignore it. He didn't have to worry about his grades much, if ever, and he didn't need a lot of book smarts to play tennis.
The only real use for a room filled with useless books was so one of his useless teachers could assign him a useless assignment that would, in the future, prove completely useless. If it wasn't worth so much of his grade, he wouldn't have done it.
As it was, he didn't know why he cared. Even if he got low marks, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. His mother would go off and be upset in her own little quiet way, that her son wasn't trying his best, and how she failed as a mother, and how she hoped nothing was wrong to make his grades fall, and he should really talk to her more. His father would smirk and ask him what was really on his mind when he should have been studying, while his mortified cousin would say "Uncle!" in _that_ tone.
He generally tried to avoid the hassle.
It took him a few minutes to find the section he was looking for (he'd never quite understood why books couldn't be classified more simply), and he sighed, staring up at the towering shelves. Why put the books so high? He wouldn't have been able to reach those even if he was taller.
Ryoma stared blankly at the sides of books, facing, once again, the reason he hated libraries so much. It was a history book he was trying to find, about World War II. His teacher hadn't written the title on the board.
"Oi, Echizen!"
Ryoma's shoulders tensed, but not noticeably, and he tilted his head a little in the direction the fairly loud shout came from. The plan was to get in and out of here without any unpleasant encounters.
"Momo-senpai, didn't anybody tell you to be quiet in a library?"
Momo ignored the little retort. "What are you here for? I have to find a novel to report for Japanese class, ch, so boring!"
"This is the history section; I think the novels are over there," Ryoma said, indicating the shelves across the library.
Momo grinned, pulling off Ryoma's hat and ruffling his hair in a way that Ryoma should have minded. "Ah, I know. But I think I know what I'm gonna do, anyways. Besides, you just looked so bored over here, I couldn't resist."
"Ah..." Ryoma went back to staring at the shelves, scanning over the titles.
"What are you looking for?" Momo intruded, leaning over his shoulder to look at the same row of books.
"It's... It's called 'Blood for Dignity', I think..."
"Echizen, it's right here," Momo said, frowning. He pulled a book off the shelf that Ryoma had just passed over, and Ryoma felt his cheeks burn. "There's three copies of it here, how'd you miss that?"
But Momo didn't laugh like Ryoma expected him to.
"Thank you," Ryoma said, reaching for the book in Momo's hand.
Momo didn't say anything else while Ryoma checked out the book at the desk, and he seemed to forget all about his need for a Japanese novel. They walked out the door together, unconsciously gravitating toward the tennis club room where both their bags were.
Ryoma was happy with the silence, but Momo felt the need to break it.
"It's because you were raised in America, right?"
Ryoma lowered his head, further hiding his eyes beneath his hat. "It's nothing. I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm not going to make fun of you Echizen."
From beneath his hat, Ryoma dared a glance into Momo's serious, violet eyes. There was no sign of laughter in them.
"I have some trouble reading the kanji," he admitted, speaking in a low tone, as if anyone was near enough to hear, "I never really learned enough of them."
Momo shrugged, "It makes sense. There's a lot them."
"Momo-senpai?"
"Hm?"
"Thanks," Ryoma muttered, looking back at the sidewalk.
Momo put his arm on Ryoma's shoulder, "Any time."
***