Hello, all! This is my first entry in the Prince of Tennis category. I hope you all enjoy!

A few things first. This story is not about romance. It focuses mostly on family bonds and friendship and good stuff like that. That being said, that's not to say there WON'T be romance. My personal OTP is the Thrill Pair, but like I said, romance isn't the main focus of the story, so if you prefer a different pairing, or just aren't into that, you still might like the story. Secondly, my OC, Nabari, will NOT be paired with anyone. He's 12. And furthermore, for the sake of my own sanity, Ryoma is thirteen in this. I realize he's twelve in the anime/manga. But anything romantic with a kid under his teens makes me kind of ill. This isn't preteen and pregnant, people.

That being said, I hope you enjoy my story!

Rose Wreath

Chapter One:

Nabari: A Single White Bud

*-*_*-* Shusuke Fuji *-*_*-*

It was hard to pinpoint exactly when Ryoma Echizen began to change.

As much as Fuji observed the youngest member of their team, even he hadn't been able to pick up the subtle changes in his underclassman until they became "the new normal". Echizen had always seemed so cold and aloof at first, only being truly happy on the court, when he was winning. Fuji doubted he had ever witnessed as much an offhand smirk to one of Momoshiro's silly jokes in their first three or so months on the same team.

It seemed Echizen had warmed up to Momoshiro first, though. Not in the typical way, though, no friendly changes in his speech towards the older boy like nicknames or affectionate honorifics, no outward displays of affection, nothing like that. It seemed he had just begun to...relax, around Momoshiro. Like falling asleep on him on the bus, or stealing burgers, or their competitive banter. Momoshiro eventually even began arriving at school with Echizen on his handlebars.

The rest of the team also began to receive the subtle nuances of Echizen's respect and grudging friendship. That's when Fuji started paying more attention to the boy, the first time Echizen had leaned on him after a tough match, or began to stare at him with a burning desire to defeat and a gentle flame of respect.

But even then, Ryoma Echizen remained...stoic at best. The team knew where his loyalties lay, knew that he viewed them as "friends"...but at the same time, he held them all at a distance, over a gaping chasm. Even Momoshiro. No one was allowed to touch Echizen's heart, because he kept it under lock and key.

Of course, that made Fuji want to touch it MORE. Just because it was so forbidden, Fuji wanted to take it and keep it in a small locked box all for himself. Fuji had always been the type to covet what he could not have. And he ultimately could not have Echizen's true, honest feelings all to himself. Fuji couldn't even call him "Ryoma" in his head. It felt...disrespectful, even though the younger boy would never know what Fuji called him privately to himself.

It had become somewhat of a game, to him. Not that it was all so surprising, everything was a game to Fuji. But what was different this time was that everyone was in on it – except for their esteemed Captain, who disapproved of such childish action. Fuji and the others wanted to see who could crack Echizen's hard outer casing first. Momoshiro had the lead, of course, and surprisingly, Eiji was in second place. Probably because of that ridiculously familiar nickname he gave the boy. "Ochibi". Fuji was almost jealous of his best friend.

Oishi didn't take their little competition too seriously, happy to call it team building and be done with it. Inui had invested interest, only because he thought it would be an excellent way to collect data of Echizen and the rest of his teammates. Kaidoh wanted in because he wanted another chance to beat Momoshiro at something. Kawamura had been initially reluctant, because he had assumed it was a romantic competition, and didn't want anyone to get hurt (and he was rigidly straight, but, that wasn't important...and Echizen happened to be thirteen, but whatever), but Fuji very quickly assured him that it was nothing of the sort. Tezuka would have killed all of them if it were as dirty as that. (And there's no way in hell Fuji would put up with any competition in that category. He wasn't Seigaku's Sadist for no reason).

But, back to Echizen's miraculous change of behavior. It seemed of late that Echizen had somehow managed to grow and cultivate a human soul under his constant stream of TENNIS-TENNIS-TENNIS-TENNIS and "You Got A Way's To Go"'s that Momoshiro and Eiji have begun to refer to as his "Offspring" moments. ("You know, Shusuke, like 'You're Gonna Go Far, Kid!' It's funny!" Eiji attempted to explain to him after the first occurrence of the comment. "But...they are two completely different quotes, Eiji..." Fuji had pouted back.)

Fuji hadn't been the only one to notice the slightly less subtle shades of friendliness Ryoma started throwing at them. Tezuka had, too. The other's weren't as observant to that sort of thing, surprisingly, considering how many of them were vying for the "Echizen's Best Friend EVER" spot. Echizen had started calling Momoshiro "Momo", he started teaching Sakuno and Tomoka tennis, he stopped fighting off Eiji's random bear hugs, no longer insulted everyone quite as bitingly, and even stooped to playing friendly games with his freshman friends trio; Horio the loud, Kato the quiet, and Mizuno the odd Oishi-look-alike.

Though, the most startling marker of change happened in front of Tezuka. For which Fuji was not jealous of AT ALL.

Echizen had called Tezuka off to the side at practice and asked him a question so startling, Tezuka had almost dropped his glasses.

"Captain Tezuka. What happens when someone dies?"

Tezuka had described the incident to Fuji over the phone that night. Echizen had seemed startlingly vulnerable, but the question had come out with no waver in his voice, though his face had been slightly pinched with frustration. Tezuka had tried to explain about "Heaven" and "afterlife" and "better places", before giving up and telling Echizen that he didn't know. Echizen had seemed a bit relieved to hear the admission of ignorance, but sad at the same time. His expression had closed off to his normal cool demeanor afterwards, and practice went on as usual. But Tezuka had been unable to get the incident out of his mind, thus the subsequent phone call to Fuji that night.

Both Fuji and Tezuka (and Oishi, once he was told) watched Echizen warily after that. No one wanted to deal with whatever Echizen would become if someone he cared for died, which was presumably the reason for the question. It was just...such...foreign territory. None of the three even exactly knew how to even go about watching for signs of depression in Echizen because he was always so closed off.

Ultimately, Fuji didn't think he'd ever really know exactly when Echizen began to change. All he knew is that he hoped the team – the family – would benefit from it in the end.

*-*_*-* Ryoma Echizen *-*_*-*

"OIIII! Hurry up, Echizen!" Momo-senpai called from the front of the group.

"You're gonna get left behind, Ochibi!" Kikumaru-senpai added, doing a cartwheel back towards where Ryoma stood.

Ryoma looked at his red-haired upperclassmen with a half-bored, half-fascinated gaze, wondering how the older boy could so easily drop into random gymnastics in the street. Not that anyone could tell. Half-bored, half-fascinated looked just like completely-bored on Ryoma's face. Just the way he liked it.

"Sorry, Kikumaru-senpai. I'll try and be faster," he said earnestly. He really was looking forward to playing tennis with his teammates at the public park. Only...he had slightly other things on his mind, making him walk slowly. Ryoma quickly resolved to forget his troubles and focus on the game. It's always what he'd done, and it's what he'd always do. Never let it be said that Ryoma did not know what to do in a crisis. The answer would always be tennis.

Kikumaru-senpai smiled at him beautifully, radiating the pure joy and cheerfulness Ryoma had come to associate him with. No matter what Ryoma was feeling, Kikumaru-senpai always made him feel a little lighter inside. His father said that it was an associative high, but for some reason Ryoma didn't believe that term actually existed.

Fuji-senpai was lagging behind too, though Ryoma suspected that had to do with more with the fact that Ryoma was doing it, too. Fuji-senpai probably didn't want him to get hit by a car or something. Ryoma always thought that it was nice how Fuji-senpai and Oishi-senpai always looked after him. It was a fresh change from how his own father treated him most of the time. Not that Ryoma's father abused him or anything. He was just a bad father, always leaving his suspicious magazines around and harassing Karupin.

Anyway, Ryoma caught up to the rest of the group and Fuji-senpai moved behind him, probably to keep him from lagging again. Ryoma moved to stand by Momo-senpai, and began to engage the older boy in quiet conversation about burgers. An odd subject, but Ryoma was sure they'd both be hungry afterwards, so, practical.

It took awhile, but they finally reached the park where the public courts were. Inui-senpai started setting up by an empty court, putting out a small table and the punishment drinks. Ryoma eyed the sickly mustard yellow color of the newest "Inui Juice" and felt his stomach turn.

"Think of burgers," Momo-senpai whispered in his ear, sensing his discomfort. "Buuuurgers."

"Buuuurgers," Ryoma echoed, pulling his gaze away from the dreaded drink. He smiled slightly at the sight of the courts, mostly empty except for a game to the far right, and felt content. At least here he wouldn't have to think about his little problem. So quiet...peaceful...sunny. Perfect for tennis.

"Hey, brat! You think you can beat me?!"

The Seigaku Regulars stopped what they were doing abruptly, looking as startled as Ryoma felt in that instance. They all looked around carefully, hoping no one had just challenged one of them to a not-so-friendly game of "I'ma-punch-your-face-with-a-racket tennis".

Ryoma paused for a moment at that thought, his thoughtfully-bored expression slipping into place. Was there such a thing as a friendly game of "I'ma-punch-your-face-with-a-racket tennis"?

They shouting turned out to have come from the other busy court. A bunch of big, ugly-looking guys were harassing what looked to be a small girl, knelt at their feet, holding a bright white racket.

The guy in the middle was shouting angrily at the girl, who was on her knee's, clutching the white racket to her chest for dear life. Ryoma could only hear bits and pieces of the conversation from here.

"...stupid freak...watch where you're going...think you can disrespect me and get away with it?! ...freakin' ugly boy... freaky eyes! ..."

Kaidoh-senpai hissed angrily under his breath, glaring daggers across the court. Kawamura-senpai clenched his racket in his hands furiously, knuckles turning white with strain. No one liked the idea of some guy bullying a smaller, weaker opponent.

Just as Tezuka-bunchou and some of the others (Momo-senpai, Kaidoh-senpai, Kawamura-senpai, and Oishi-senpai, you know, the chivalrous bunch) started over to break up the fight brewing (or start one of their own) something registered with Ryoma.

"...freakin' ugly boy..."

A boy? That was a boy? Ryoma squinted, just barely making out the slim form in the distance. Short, slim, pale. Wearing what looked like a black, short-sleeved dress. And thick black hair, held up in two big ponytails.

Then, the small form stood up, just as the other made it over there. The dress wasn't actually a dress, but a long shirt worn over denim shorts, and the kid was very flat-chested, and wearing a pair of boy's sneakers. The pigtails stood out, though.

Ryoma squinted more, half-interested now. The boy...looked kind of familiar...

Then the boy turn slightly and Ryoma could see his face. He felt his eyes get wide as suddenly three things clicked into place for him in rapid succession.

He'd seen that white racket before.

He'd seen that face before.

He knew that kid.

Blood pumping faster all of a sudden, Ryoma ran towards the group, eyes locked and loaded on the kid. He...was so...dead.

*-*_*-* Takeshi Momoshiro *-*_*-*

There were very few things Momoshiro didn't like about the world.

One of the only...hmm...three things Momoshiro absolutely could not stand were bullies.

(Another was that his given name, Takeshi, was one letter away from being Takashi...Kawamura's given name. Just a pet peeve, actually.)

(...and the third was Kaoru Kaidoh, if anyone is interested to know. That was actually more of a pet peeve, too.)

Momoshiro tended to approach bullies (and, most bad things in life) like he approached tennis. DUNK...SMASH. In other words, with power, force, and conviction.

So, when he got over to the scene of the bullying, he was the first to speak.

"Oi!" He snapped. He raised his playing arm and tapped his racket to his should, simultaneously presenting the racket as a weapon and flexing his arm warningly. "What are you doing over there?"

The kid on the ground had stood up when he and the others arrived, and he – it was definitely a he, though from afar and behind it had been hard to tell – was staring at him with wide brownish-gold eyes that made Momoshiro shiver a bit, startled. The kid looked familiar...

He stood maybe a little shorter than their own Ryoma-kun. His hair was thick and wild-looking, black with the barest hint of blue in it. He was so skinny he almost looked anorexic, but the vibrancy of his young face and lithe, subtly-muscled body said otherwise.

And he had pigtails.

Honestly, the boy looked so normal up close, and his expression so blankly questioning that the random pigtails almost made Momoshiro burst out laughing. Then he remembered why he'd come over.

He looked back to the boy's bullies. "Well?" he challenged.

The guys – there were three of them – looked disgruntled by the sudden appearance of Seigaku's best, but apparently thought harassing the kid would be worth the subsequent beating Kaidoh was about to lay on all of them.

"This brat just ran headlong into my man Taizo!" The middle one said in an obnoxiously loud voice. He was obviously the "leader". You know, because he was wearing a red beanie that had "DA MAN" stitched into it.

"Yeah," chimed in a dumpy looking dude in the back with a shaved head and buck teeth. "He bumped inta' me an' didn't even apologize!"

Tezuka-bunchou jumped in here. "That is no reason for disturbing the peace at a public park," he said with that quiet intensity he does so well.

The three looked slightly frightened for a second before their idiocy kicked back in. Must be nice to be so ignorant.

Then, the third bully noticed their victim was no longer paying attention to them. Or to any of it. He was now picking at the strings on his racket, probably trying to disappear until this was all over. The guy smirked a nasty looking smirk and reached out before anyone could stop him and grabbed the boy's pigtails, one in each hand.

The boy dropped his racket and shrieked, slightly high-pitched for a boy, but then again, he looked young, so. You know. Puberty.

Kaidoh jumped forward and hissed. "Get your hands off of him!" he snapped angrily.

The guy laughed cruelly and gave the boy's hair a rough yank and pulled out his hair bands.

The boy let out a low whimper and fisted his abused hair, looking at the offender with an almost heartbroken expression. "No...those were...a gift...," he mumbled sadly.

Inwardly, Momoshiro wondered who would give a young boy hair bands as a gift. Outwardly, he was hopping mad. They were a gift!

The guy sneered, his friends both laughing at the boy's sad face.

"You want 'em back?" the guy said meanly, slipping them onto his wrist. "Then pick up your fancy-shmancy racket and win them back. That's why you were walkin' over here right? Ta play? Well, whatcha waitin' for?"

The boy looked sullen, and Oishi came to rest his hands on his shoulder in comfort, and Kawamura jumped forward like he was about to say that he'd win them back, when something happened that no one expected.

A tennis ball came sailing out of nowhere and slammed right into the hair-band stealer's face.

Everyone kind of froze, then I turned to look behind up. Ryoma-kun was walking towards us, a tight, angry expression on his face, holding his racket like a weapon. Which I suspected he had just used it as. Fuji, Kikumaru, and Inui were following, their bewildered expressions confirming my suspicion.

Ryoma-kun shoved past us and walked over to the guy he had hit with the ball. "Hand them...over," he said icily.

The guy, holding a bloody, possibly broken nose with on hand, thrust his other hand out quickly. Ryoma-kun slid the bands off and turned to boy.

"You," he said irritably. "Sit down."

The boy complied instantly and sat down on a bench nearby. Ryoma-kun walked around behind him and pulled his hair into two pigtails and replaced the bands. He did this very calmly, as if he was not acting completely out of character and leaving some guy with a bloody nose on the ground.

When he was done, he turned back to the bullies with ice in his eyes.

"Go...away," he said, voice dangerously low. "And if I catch you harassing people again, the balls on the court won't be the only ones I'll be hitting."

Momoshiro had honestly never seen anyone run away so fast. He was almost jealous.

Then, continuing to ignore the rest of his team, Ryoma-kun looked back at the boy. "Go home," he said in a softer voice. "There is no one nice to play tennis with here." He hesitated for a second, before adding hastily, "If you want...I can come back tomorrow and we can play tennis together. But, for now, I'm playing with my team."

The boy looked up at him with something akin to worship in his expression. Then, an easy smile spread over his lips and he nodded, looking content. He stood up and bowed to Ryoma-kun, then turned and bowed to Momoshiro, Tezuka-bunchou, and all of the others in turn, before leaving quietly.

Ryoma-kun turned to us then and nodded back to the team's court. "Let's go," he said simply. Then he walked away.

Momoshiro looked at Fuji, who was standing not far away, eyes locked on Ryoma-kun as they usually were. He did, though, turn to meet Momoshiro's gaze and Momoshiro could see a similar question in Fuji's expression.

...What?!

*-*_*-* Ryoma Echizen *-*_*-*

After practice with his team was over, Ryoma walked home part-way with everyone, before splitting off onto his street.

As he approached his house, he noticed the pigtailed boy sitting outside of his house, head bowed and racket clutched to his chest as it usually was. He was asleep.

Ryoma's brow furrowed in annoyance. "Oi! I told you to go home. That's not home."

The boy stirred, and looked up at Ryoma with sweet eyes that were a mirror of his own.

"...It's technically home," the boy countered softly, smiling his normal, contented half-smile at Ryoma. "You know...mommy can see me from the house."

Ryoma looked up and saw his mother pitter-pattering around on the porch and sighed. "Whatever. Let's go inside." Ryoma was tired now, for some reason.

The boy got up quickly and darted through the gate before Ryoma could. Then he turned to Ryoma and smiled warmly. "Welcome home, big brother."

*-*_*-* Nabari Echizen *-*_*-*

"Ryoma-niisan," Nabari chirped happily, following closely behind his beloved brother. "I've been working on my Japanese. I think I'm good now!" He fluttered his hands excitedly. "Papa said I might even be able to go to school now!"

Ryoma-niisan only grunted in response, leading Nabari to the room they shared. Once inside, Nabari leapt onto Ryoma-niisan's bed and rolled around in excitement. School in Japan! Finally!

Ryoma-niisan snorted in what could have been amusement, and sat down next to Nabari, patting his lap. Nabari launched himself into his big brother's lap and sat comfortably, leaning against his brother's chest lovingly. It was good to be small sometimes.

Ryoma-niisan started to remove the pigtails from his hair, then carefully brush it out for bed, so Nabari settled in for a moment. Ryoma-niisan sometimes got carried away brushing his hair, and it took a long time. But Nabari didn't mind. He loved his brother's gentle way of brushing his hair. It was so unlike mother's, who would just yank the brush through because she was in a hurry. Ryoma-niisan took his time.

Nabari stared at himself in the mirror on his desk while Ryoma-niisan worked. It had been three months since he'd moved back to Japan to be with his family. Initially, he had stayed in America to finish primary school, so he didn't move back with his family. Instead, he stayed with friends. That, along with the fact that he had been born and raised in America unlike his brother Ryoma, his Japanese was a little lackluster. So, he had to wait before he was admitted to Seigaku as a Foreign exchange student. But now, he was good enough to go, and he was so excited!

"Stop squirming," Ryoma-niisan grumped at him. Nabari giggled and stopped moving.

Another small stretch of silence passed before Ryoma-niisan spoke again. "Why did you go outside with pigtails?" he asked.

Nabari smiled. "It made me look pretty," he teased.

Ryoma-niisan huffed. "You're a boy!" he scolded, as if that should explain why he shouldn't be pretty. As if Ryoma-niisan could talk. He was BEAUTIFUL.

In reality, Nabari had gone out like that, hoping someone would notice him at the tennis park and play with him. (He hadn't been counting on bullies...). But, it was the only way he was going to play a good game of tennis. Away from home. Away from his father. Away...from Ryoma-niisan.

Unfortunately, Ryoma-niisan has shown up anyway.

Nabari gave a silent sigh and leaned against his brother again. Ryoma-niisan raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Ryoma-niisan was good at that. Being silent.

"It's almost dark," he said finally. "But you wanted to play tennis? We can play a quick game before bed."

Nabari nodded and got off of his brother's lap. But he wasn't happy.

"I'll win," he said, almost sadly. "I always win. You know you can't beat me!" He sounded cocky to himself. Good. He was supposed to sound like that.

Ryoma-niisan snorted and picked up his racket. "I can't help it. You're too good for me."

Nabari picked up his own white racket. White. Innocence. Beauty. ...Frailty. "When I beat you 6-0, how many times will this be that we've played together and I've won?"

Ryoma-niisan shrugged and walked towards the door. "I don't know, Nabari. I lost track." He stopped at the door and smiled warmly at Nabari. "You're just too good, bro." Then he left.

He missed the barest hint of anguish in Nabari's eyes that appeared, before it was a replaced by a tired happiness.

"Yeah, that's me. The only person in the world who has never lost a game of tennis to Ryoma Echizen."

*-*_*-* OMAKE THEATER! *-*_*-*

Ryoma: *Sigh* I lose again, Nabari...

Nabari: *Bounces happily* Yay! That is...the second game I've won today! RYOMA-NIISAN LOOOOST, HE LOOOOST, I WIIIIN! *Laughs* You must have really bad aim, Ryoma-nissan, always hitting the net!

Ryoma: *Mad glint in eye* ...Twist serve!

*Ball misses Nabari's hair by an inch*

Nabari: O.o

Ryoma: Yup...bad aim.

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