I'm sorry, what? (Ryoma X Reader)

Let's Fly To America

Seigaku's spring break starts now and we have 11 days. Most of the regulars are staying here in Tokyo. I want to go somewhere. Somewhere nice and special. Well, I just want to go to America and see the other tennis players I lost against when I lived there. Now, with Ryoma back at my side and me at his side, the two of us can win against them and prove them wrong. They always said that we were too young and too small and not strong enough and blah blah blah.
Sitting home in my kitchen, like I'm doing now, is too boring to be doing during Spring Break. I want to play tennis, and win a match with Ryoma.
"Y/n," my father as he walked into the kitchen. "I've spoken with Echizen Nanjiro and he says that he's fine with Ryoma leaving the country for your break at Seigaku, so I got you both plane tickets for tomorrow at eight to leave to the US."
"Really?" I asked, my eyes brightening as I looked up at him. He nodded. "Thank you!" I squealed as I jumped off of the chair and ran up to my room, calling Ryoma with my phone as I threw my clothes into my bag along with the must have necessities.
"Ryoma," I said as he picked up on the third ring. "Are you coming to the US with me?"
"Hai," Ryoma said through the phone. "The old man said he didn't care what I did for break so I'm going." I heard a cat purr and frowned.
"Is that Karupin?" I asked.
"Hai," Ryoma said. "He's staying here with Ryoga."
"Is that your girlfriend?!" I heard Ryoga shout in the background.
"No!" Ryoma shouted in a half attempt to get him to leave.
"It is! Isn't it?" Ryoga said. I literally could picture him smirking at Ryoma at this very second.
"Bye," I said. I heard the two of them immediately get into an argument before I hung up, laughing to myself. The two of them are like gasoline and fire. They're pretty explosive together when mixed against each other. But together and used right, they could dominate the court. It's a shame Ryoma dislikes Ryoga that much.
I thought about it for another hour before crashing into my bed and falling asleep in a second.
I woke the next morning at six and ran to Ryoma's house at six thirty, knocking on the door and Nanako, his cousin, answering and letting me in. I saw Nanjiro sitting on the back steps reading a pervy comic with pictures of girls in bikinis at the beach or just in general weird, revealing outfits. What a pervert.
"Ryoma," I said as I walked into his room. He was sleeping on his bed without the covers and Karupin was curled up next to him. I threw his bag at him along with his tennis bag and he fell off his bed as he looked up at me. He sat up and picked up his bags, slowly waking up ashe followed me out of his house after getting dressed. Nanako drove us to the airport in silence and dropped us off after making sure I knew what was happening and what we were doing.
I waited another hour before our plane seats were called and I pulled Ryoma behind me, bursting with excitement as I thought about the US and returning to play tennis with new people.
The flight was about eleven hours, but we made it there with Ryoma sleeping the entire way. As soon as we were able to get off, I pulled Ryoma behind me and made my way downtown to the cities where there were bound to be some courts at parks.
My ears picked up the sounds of rackets slamming into balls and I immediately followed that sound, my bags, both travel and tennis bags, were slung over my shoulder as I led the way with Ryoma following me. Seven isn't too late to play a game of tennis, right?
"Excuse me," I said politely, aproaching a group of older high schoolers. "Can we play a match against you guys?"
"Sorry," they said rudely. How annoying.
"Are you scared to lose to a few junior high students?" I asked with a casual smirk at them.
"No," they said.
"So why can't we have a match?" I asked as I tilted my head up at them.
"Just play them so they leave the court," a few other high school students shouted from the sidelines. The two guys nodded and I sat down on a bench and tied my shoes, pulling out my racket and an extra ball, stretching with Ryoma for a few minutes before I stepped onto the court, taking the front as he took the back.
"You serve first," our opponents called. I glanced over at his bag right at the sidelines and read the names, Jerry and Sam. Each had a small picture by the name. Jerry was the dark haired guy with glasses, and Sam seemed to be the blonde kid with his hair styled in a mohawk.
"Our pleasure," I said, giving Ryoma a quick gesture and seeing him nod before I watched as he tossed the ball into the air, hitting it and serving a fast twist serve, making it swerve right before it slammed in Sam's face.
"Nice," I called back at Ryoma.
"Hai," Ryoma replied emotionlessly.
"He speaks Japanese only?" Sam mused. "So if we speak in English, he won't understand us and the girl can't possibly play by herself without backup. No girl's that good." They do know I can hear every word they say, right?
Well, crap them. If only they knew Ryoma was fluent in English as well as Japanese. A perk of living here for a while while he won four American Junior Divisions in about a year. These guys are so oblivious if they don't see the confidence radiating off of Ryoma.
"That was probably just a fluke," Jerry said loudly, lifting his racket up as he served. I returned it immediately, hitting the baseline and keeping it inbounds.
Ryoma served again and again, always going easy on them and using his right hand, keeping his special moves underwrap as he slammed the balls down, dunking them and hitting aces. I could probably sit down on the court and we would still win. Definitely, not probably. These people here are like taking a cake slice from a baby. Easy.
2 sets-love.
3 sets-love.
5 sets-love.
Match point game.
Ryoma used another twist serve and sent it spinning past Jerry's face, leaving the two of them shocked since he hasn't used it since the first set.
The other two swore loudly as we turned around and high fived each other.
"Nice. That was too easy," I said.
"Hai," Ryoma replied. "We need higher opponents."
"He speaks English?!" Sam shouted across the court as we started to walk off. I heard a ball hit a racket and lifted my racket behind me head, feeling the ball deflect and slam onto the court, spinning in place before suddenly stopping directly on the baseline.
"Didn't that kid win four American Junior Division games here a while ago?" someone asked. A small smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth as I looked over at Ryoma. He doesn seem to care about any of them or what they were talking about. He was frowning at the American vending machines before grabbing two grape faygos and returning to me, handing me one as he popped the lid and drunk from it, putting his racket away as he slung his bags over his shoulders. I popped my lid and took a sip before I grabbed my bags and carried them to where I had booked out hotel.
We spent another eight days in America driving around and sight seeing, playing a few tennis matches in the evening each day before we had to fly back and spend the last two days at our homes.
I know for a fact Ryoga will be teasing us and trying to make Ryoma say something stupid or spill something that happened that doesn't exist.
The two of them are crazy. They're all bakas.

A/N
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