sinnatious

Title: The World Begins With Tennis

Author: Sinnatious

Summary: TezRyo Prince of Tennis/The World Ends With You crossover.

Rating: M for violence and yaoi.

Author’s Note: The sixth day. More cameos, joy! Surprisingly few questions get answered.

.....................

The Sixth Day

It was the footpath next to the bus stop again. Tezuka was already awake this time, standing next to him like a guard with the Player pin clutched in his hands.

He sat up with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes. “You’re awake?”

“Not for long.”

“The mission?”

On cue, their phones beeped. Ryoma grumbled to himself as he stood, retrieving the phone from his pocket.

Pain lanced like a bolt of electricity through his hand. Cursing, he fumbled to open the phone. ‘Go to the northern riverbank. You have two hours.’

The red numbers ticked down on his palm. Strange how he was getting used to that. Tezuka rubbed his own hand briefly, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “The river is right on the edge of the boundary. Two hours isn’t a lot of time.”

“Should we run?”

“…That could cause accidents. But we should walk briskly.”

Tezuka was probably the only person in the world who would actually say the word ‘briskly’ in normal conversation.

…Not that Ryoma had anything to compare against. “Which way?”

They headed out at a quick pace, Ryoma having to double-step at times to keep up with Tezuka’s long strides.

It was still rather early in the morning, so the streets were filled with salary men on their way to work and students on their way to school. Since the mission time limit was so short it didn’t look like there’d be much time for eating. That was annoying. It was harder fighting on an empty stomach. The effectiveness of psychs appeared to be directly correlated to the strength of focus and concentration, both of which could be compromised by an empty stomach. Oh well. He still had blood on his shirt anyway – he probably wouldn’t be well received at the ramen place.

While he was contemplating how much he’d rather eat some burgers instead of ramen for a change, Tezuka’s ‘brisk’ pace suddenly halted. Ryoma very nearly ran into him, stopping and glaring. “Hey, what’s the-” The words died in his mouth when he saw his partner’s expression.

Generally, he’d accepted that Tezuka had just a slightly wider emotional range than your average rock. The look in his eyes now, however, was one that Ryoma hadn’t seen before. He was staring intensely, almost like he was trying to scan someone, only he wasn’t clutching his Player pin.

His fingers were reaching for it, though.

It was strange. Generally Tezuka didn't like scanning - said it was an ‘invasion of privacy'. Ryoma didn't particularly like hearing all the random stupid boring things people were thinking about either, but had no such moral dilemma if he wanted to find something out or complete a mission.

Golden eyes traced the path of his gaze and eventually found the source of the disturbance. A group of people – some of them looked familiar. Members of the tennis club from the day before, he recalled belatedly. It looked like they were on their way to school. There were a couple he didn’t recognise.

It was the slight, light-brown-haired student across the way that Tezuka was staring at with a scarily intense expression. Ryoma looked closer, trying to see what made him stand out, but a sharp pain suddenly burned through his head. He stumbled back. "Ugh."

Tezuka tore his attention away and caught his shoulder. "Echizen? Is something the matter?"

"S'nothing," he mumbled. "Just... my head..." It felt like invisible knives stabbing the back of his eyes.

The fingers clutching his shoulders tightened. After a moment the headache started to abate. Tentatively, Ryoma opened eyes he didn’t remember closing and raised his head, looking around. "Huh, it went away." He glanced back over. "Where did that guy go? The one you were staring at."

“You noticed?”

“Kind of hard not to.”

"…He left," Tezuka replied dispassionately.

"Weren't you going to scan him?"

A pause. Tezuka was probably embarrassed at being caught out in his temptation after his moral grandstanding. Ryoma was tempted to call him on it, but it was clear that his partner had been bothered by it, and that in turn bothered him.

Eventually Tezuka answered, "It doesn't matter. We should continue with the mission. There’s not much time."

Ryoma frowned. That guy had been with a bunch of people that Tezuka said were his friends before. Did that mean he was also a friend? The expression on Tezuka's face - subtle though it might have been - had been sort of cold, though. Maybe they didn’t get along?

They continued the rest of the way to the bridge in silence – Tezuka deep in thought after the encounter and Ryoma quietly wondering what it was that had his partner so unsettled. They encountered one wall, manned by Arai of all people, who sulkily summoned a single Noise for them to defeat before letting them pass. It took a couple of minutes to take care of that, and then they were on their way.

Soon enough, the river was in sight. By unspoken agreement, they picked up their pace until they were standing on the grassy riverbank. It was quiet except for the lapping of water at the shore and the distant rumble of traffic.

"We're here, but the timer isn't disappearing." Ryoma frowned, staring at the red numbers ticking down on his palm as though the force of his glare alone would be enough to make them disappear.

"The north bank," Tezuka murmured. "We're on the south bank."

It figured. There was a bridge a short distance away, and they still had twenty minutes. "Let's go then."

As they headed towards the crossing, though, Ryoma found his feet stopping. He stared at the bridge, an unpleasant sensation crawling across his skin. Tezuka hesitated, looking back. "Is something the matter?"

He clutched his Player Pin. It was weird. He thought he could sense something... and yet, nothing came up in the scan. It was like there was something filling space where there ought to be emptiness.

"...I don't think the bridge is a good idea," he muttered eventually.

Tezuka glanced between him and the bridge. "Why?"

It was hard to explain. Ryoma trusted his instincts, and there was something off about the scan. "Just a bad feeling," he mumbled.

Dark brown eyes regarded him for a long moment. Eventually Tezuka turned away. "We'll have to find another way across then." He started retracing their steps to the riverbank.

"You believe me?" Ryoma didn't know what he'd been expecting, but not Tezuka's matter-of-fact acceptance based on something as vague as a 'bad feeling'.

"You have more practice at scanning than I do. If you think there's something wrong, I doubt it's just your imagination," he said seriously. "...We'll just have to wade across. It's not that deep – Inui told me that Kaidoh often trains here." He plucked a stray plastic bag from the ground, placed his wallet and pins safely inside, then extended it to Ryoma who grudgingly added his own. Tezuka tied the bag closed and looped it around his neck, then held out his hand.

Ryoma looked at it quizzically. "The current is strong," Tezuka warned. "If we get separated..."

A Noise would find them or they wouldn't be able to complete the mission properly, and they'd both wind up erased. Ryoma interlaced their fingers together, hand firmly clasped in Tezuka's. It was answer enough.

They only had seven more minutes now. There was no putting it off.

They waded into the river. Belatedly Ryoma realised that they probably should have taken their shoes off and tied them around their necks too, as they dragged heavily in the water. The water was unexpectedly cold and the undercurrent sucked at his legs with surprising strength. Ryoma resolutely ignored it, tightening his grip on Tezuka's hand and wading deeper into the river. It was still safer than facing the bridge. The river might be mucky and cold and the current strong, but there were no unpleasant surprises.

At least until about a third of the way in, when he quickly realised that there was in fact another problem. Tezuka could indeed make it across without a problem. But while Tezuka was only waist-deep in the water, it was already up to Ryoma's chest. Wading was already becoming difficult. If it reached Tezuka's armpits it would be over his head. Not for the first time Ryoma cursed his lack of height.

He could swim - again he didn't remember how, only he knew that he could - but the current was powerful and his clothes weighed him down like lead scarves. Add that to the fact that his stronger left arm was clinging to Tezuka and he could only propel himself forward with his weaker right arm...

The water grew higher. It sloshed over his shoulders. Tezuka continued forging ahead determinedly. Ryoma kicked erratically, trying to keep afloat and moving forward, even as the current pulled him sideways. The water continued to rise, and his feet left the riverbed. Panic started to set in. "Tezuka-"

Tezuka glanced back, and his eyes widened.

"Echizen!" The words were swallowed as Ryoma’s head slipped underwater.

It was as though direction became meaningless. Kicking frantically now, Ryoma broke the surface again with a gasp, before the current pulled him back under and a rumble filled his ears.

"Echizen!" Tezuka's voice was muted but he could feel the water dragging on him as a force pulled him forward, the strain on his left arm still clinging to his partner growing almost painful.

Flailing about wildly, he managed to push his head above the water again, but only long enough to grab a gasp of air, followed by a mouthful of water as the current pulled him down again. His lungs grew tight. The water seemed like it was growing more shallow but it felt like forever before Ryoma's feet found the riverbed again, and even then they seemed to just slip out from under him, his footing sucked away by the current. The only steadfast point of orientation was that death grip on his hand, anchoring him to his partner.

After what felt like an eternity Ryoma was half-dragged, half-crawled on to the riverbank. He coughed and spluttered, making a face at the taste of the foul drain water. 'River' was probably a generous term for that particular landmark.

"Are you alright?" Tezuka asked worriedly, still clutching his hand and patting him on the back as he spat out a mouthful of silty water.

"The timer...?" he coughed.

"Gone," he assured him, plucking out a wet leaf that had found its way into Ryoma's hair.

He let out a sigh at that, closing his eyes. They'd cut it far too close the past two days. After a moment, he mumbled, "Lost my cap."

"I'll buy you a new one. We have enough money."

"And a shoe." He stared at his feet. The other shoe was covered in mud anyway. He probably didn't want to know what the lost one looked like.

"My shoes need replacing as well," Tezuka admitted. They'd been pristine white before but were now a sort of splotchy grey.

“Well, look what we have here,” a cultured voice interrupted. They both whirled around, searching for the source. It was a pair of Reapers on the bridge. “An interesting detour. It seems that we were spotted.”

"Fucking annoying," the white-haired one with the rat-tail growled. "Spent ages on that trap."

"Yes, we fooled plenty of others with the same trick," the one wearing glasses agreed. Ryoma couldn't stop staring at him. He reminded him a lot of Tezuka - his hair was just a little flatter, and his features a little rounder. There was also the small matter of the black skeletal wings sprouting from his back. They were both wearing yellow shirts like the Game Master. Did that mean they were special Reapers?

"Heeeh, you're lame enough to use the same trick twice?" Ryoma deadpanned.

That earned him a matching set of twitching eyebrows. "Certainly, we expected as much from you," the one with glasses stated, straightening up into an almost regal pose. "Honestly, when Kirihara said you two were in the game I did not initially believe him."

"Then we heard about your deaths in the RG," the other one added with a leer. "Too damn good to be true."

Deaths? Plural? Before he could ask, though, Tezuka stated, "Niou and Yagyuu. Also from Rikkai's tennis club. Three of your members are Reapers?"

They both smirked at that. "Yo, should we tell them Yagyuu?" the white-haired one drawled.

"We've got our orders, Niou."

"Fuck orders." He didn't say anything else, though.

Yagyuu smiled. It was a cold sort of smile - polite and without any real joy. "There was quite a bit of tragedy in our club a while ago. That's all you need to know."

“And you became Reapers.”

“Harriers. We’re not like those lame Wall Reapers, ya know.” Niou lounged on the bridge railing, dangling his feet over the edge. “It’s our job to take out Players.”

“Nothing personal, you understand,” Yagyuu added. “But a Harrier’s lifespan is extended by how many Players they erase.”

Tezuka was already untying the bag with the pins in it.

“There’s no need for that, I promise,” Yagyuu assured them. “Reapers aren’t allowed to attack the Players directly until tomorrow.”

“But you set a trap,” Ryoma pointed out coolly.

“We have to be enterprising in our methods of taking out players, particularly ones strong enough to have lasted this long. Just summoning Noise in plain sight isn’t very effective.” Yagyuu adjusted his glasses. They caught the afternoon sunlight, flaring brightly. “It seems you’ve managed to escape any other Harriers so far. You’ve been lucky.”

Tezuka was reaching for the pins again.

“Heh, I’d really like to sick some Noise on ya to make up for it,” Niou drawled, “But Kirihara wants to deal with you two personally. Ordered hands off. I say fuck him, but Yagyuu here says he’s Game Master.”

“Games have to have rules,” was Yagyuu’s eminently reasonable response.

“Set by the Composer and Conductor.” Niou snickered at something he seemed to find funny about that, and Ryoma’s interest was piqued. Composer? Conductor?

“And if you don’t mind my asking, how long have you been Reapers?” Tezuka was keeping very calm, given the situation. Ryoma blinked, feeling a pin touch his fingers, and had to suppress a smile as he slid it up his sleeve. Tezuka was never careless.

“Longer than you’ve been Players.” Niou smirked.

Yagyuu’s phone beeped. He frowned and flipped it open. “Yagyuu here.” His frown deepened. “Understood.” He flipped it shut again. “Niou.”

He groaned. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Well, it was nice knowing ya. But tomorrow’s the last day. Kirihara’s going to make mincemeat outta ya.” He grinned, running a hand through his hair. “Puri.”

Ryoma had several retorts for that, but didn’t get the chance to use any of them as the pair of Reapers left. That had been slightly nerve-racking. At least he hadn't nearly drowned himself for just a bad feeling. Water was still dripping from his hair, but being cold and wet was better than being erased.

“It sounds as though we’re going to have to be careful tomorrow,” Tezuka mused, sorting through the pins properly and handing the rest back over to Ryoma.

“Che. They’re probably all talk,” he dismissed.

“Hn.” Tezuka didn’t sound convinced.

One thing did sort of unsettle him, though. “Didn’t this mission… you know… seem sort of easy?” Ryoma asked. Sure, it had been tight on time, but the only real obstacle had been getting across the river, and if weren’t for the Harriers setting traps even that would have been simple.

“That’s no excuse for getting careless.”

Ryoma sighed to himself, scuffing a sodden shoe on the ground. “Not what I meant.”

They stood there in silence for a moment. If anyone were able to see them, they’d look a sorry sight – Ryoma was drenched from head to toe, missing a shoe and hair still dripping cold water onto his already soaked and still blood-stained shirt. Tezuka looked a little better, but his clothes were sodden as well, sagging under the weight of the water they held. He hadn’t let go of his hand yet, Ryoma realised – he’d even sorted through the pins one-handed. Somewhat reluctantly, Ryoma let his fingers relax, and his hand drop. Tezuka blinked. “Oh, my apologies.”

Ryoma had to stifle a chuckle. Tezuka was always so polite. It was exasperating at first, but it had become endearing at some point. “S’nothing,” he murmured, cheeks warm at the memory of the worry colouring Tezuka’s voice as he pulled him ashore.

He didn’t think it possible, but in this crazy world, he’d grown sort of fond of this stranger he’d partnered up with. Maybe it was just a lack of choice, but Ryoma had trouble believing that. There was something about Tezuka… there was a dependability about him, a sort of aura that drew you in. He didn’t waste words, or offer meaningless platitudes over their predicament… he just took the problem head on, and expected Ryoma to do the same.

Was it friendship? He wasn’t sure what to call it. They were just partners, he guessed. That would have to do.

Sixth Day, End.