Disclaimer: Me. Not. Own. ShinPuri. Nor. TeniPuri.
Major Warning: The series will contain spoilers. If you hadn’t read ShinPuri yet, please read it ^_^. It’s awesome.
Minor Warnings: Poor Grammar. Bad series. Crap. Bitchy Sue.
Credits: I would like to thank AznChibi1 for guiding me and my utterly poor Japanese skills, and to shazuu for inspiring me to create this kind of character. And for Konomi Takeshi-sensei of course, for creating such a wonderful ShinPuri!
Colorful Hues
Shin Prince of Tennis
Prologue
“Drop 250 balls. Whoever doesn’t get a ball will be sent home.”
“Ojo-sama, Kurobe-sama is calling for you.”
“I’ll only go if the matter is not about this little game.”
“But Ojo-sama—“
“Didn’t you hear me?!” the girl yelled, finally snapping. From the bushes of red roses, the girl shifted her attention towards the old man dressed in a formal tuxedo. Her sapphire eyes narrowed. “Tell him that I don’t want to hear anything about the U-17 Candidate Selection Camp. I don’t wish to be associated with it.”
Before conceding, the old man gave a short sigh. “Wakarimashita.”
The girl’s gaze followed the man as he exited the garden. For a moment, a pinch of guilt haunted her. After all, it wasn’t necessary to yell; he was only doing his job. A sigh escaped her lips as she turned back to her beloved roses, caressing them with her soft fingers.
“Gomen nasai Kurobe-sama, but Ojo-sama refuses to come.”
A good-looking young man, perhaps in his late 30’s, with raven hair that cascades down to his willowy shoulders, gradually stood up to acknowledge the newcomer’s presence. A displeased frown appeared on his oval-shaped face. “What a stubborn girl,” Kurobe Yukio, a strategic coach, cheekily commented. “Masaki, tell her to come here this instant; otherwise I’ll tell her father to straighten her bended attitude.”
“There’s no need for that, Ji-Ji.”
The latter cocked his head and set eyes upon a young girl with long ebony hair that’s tied in two buns, one at each side of her head, and her almond-shaped sapphire eyes sparkled like blue jewels. Her face showed cockiness, and it made the young man irate.
“Ji-Ji? Where have you left your manners, Kanon?”
“Ah, gomen-gomen Ojii-sama,” the girl smirked, twirling a thornless, single red rose in between her middle and index finger. “But more importantly…” The girl known as Kanon walked past him and headed straight for the chaise longue. She flopped down and inquired, “I’m here, right? What do you want from me anyway?”
“I assume that you are fully informed about the U-17 Candidate Selection Camp.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And—“
“I heard that there are 300 members all in all.”
“You’re correct,” Kurobe said, trying to ignore the girl’s rude attitude. “There are 300 members all in all, including the Middle School students.”
“I see.” A smirk traced upon Kanon’s lips. “That’s interesting. But don’t you think that it’s too big?”
“Too big?” the coach repeated as his eyes pondered at his niece.
Aiyama Kanon nodded. Her smirk grew wider as she responded, “Let’s play with them for awhile. Wouldn’t it be way too easy if all 300 students will pass? It just defeats the purpose of this selection camp.”
Kurobe gave a small smirk. He, too, was starting to get interested. “Enlighten me on that one, Kanon.”
“Drop 250 balls,” the girl simply said. She stood up from the chaise longue and bid farewell while continuing, “Whoever doesn’t get a ball will be sent home.” With those words clearly uttered, the girl went out, shutting the transparent marble door behind her.
The strategic tennis coach snickered. “Not bad, Kanon.”
The fun is just about to start.
