Hard Grip

AN: First ever go at Prince of Tennis ficlet, brought to you by the 'PoT' porn clip random acts of insane inspiration. Probably got the names and tennis stuff all wrong, and I couldn't escape fan-Japanese... Apologies.

Inui nudged the crossbar of his glasses, pushing them back into place at the top of his nose. He had studied Ryoma's duel with the brick wall for the past ten minutes, watched as Ryoma alternated between forehand and backhand to smash the ball back against the wall, not needing to move in order to meet the wall's retaliation.

"Echizen," he finally interrupted.

Ryoma shifted his racket to make the ball bounce straight down to the pavement, dribbled it twice and caught it in his free hand. "Yes?"

Inui stepped closer. "You've got a good swing - but your backhand still needs work. Your wrist movement isn't loose enough."

Ryoma glared at him, taking offense. "I could still beat you nine times out of ten... sempai."

With a ghost of a smile, Inui stopped an armsreach away. "Perhaps... But your backhand would still be terrible. Fortunately, I have just the right training program for you."

The glare turned overly suspicious, and Ryoma took a step back. "If it involves drinking anything, I flatly refuse."

The ghost turned manifest, and the sunlight seemed to reflect in the top left corners of Inui's square glasses. "Oh, there's no drinking involved... Not for the basics of this technique, at least. Would you like to try? I assure you, it's perfectly harmless."

Ryoma hesitated, then shrugged as he started bouncing the ball on his racket. "Sure, whatever..."

Allowing himself a brief smirk, Inui reached into his bag, pulled at the artifact wedged between his rackets and hastily tossed it to Ryoma.

The boy wonder grabbed the pink plastic thing without thinking. With his fingers around it, it dawned on him what it was. The ball dropped to the ground as he stared at Inui, eyes wide. "Inui-sempai! This is-"

"You're not gripping it right," Inui commented. "Here, let me show you." Before Ryoma could protest, Inui turned the dildo the boy was holding around so that the sizable nuggets pushed against the underside of Ryoma's wrist. He then closed his fingers around Ryoma's, ensuring the boy's grip was solid.

Ryoma glared at the thing he was holding, then at the team's assistant coach.

Keeping a straight poker face, Inui continued. "It's an advanced massage tool I found. It'll rub against your wrist as you practice your swings. It'll loosen your hand up right away - with less tension in your backhand, you ought to put even more spin on the ball. You need to keep a hard grip on the handle, though."

Far from convinced, Ryoma studied the pink object again. Tentatively, he took a swing with it. As Inui had said, the big nubs pushed against his wrist - though Ryoma wasn't sure it'd be effective. Still, it was Inui's suggestion. There had to be a reason for it. "Fine..." he finally growled.

Satisfied, Inui nodded, turned to walk away. "Remember to alternate your hands. You need to train both wrists, since you're ambidextrous."

"Sure..." Ryoma put his racket away and focused on practice swings versus the wall, without a ball this time, barring the two pink ones pressing against his wrist.

Inui made it around the corner before he let go a full smirk, specifically directed at the other young man leaning up against the wall there, quietly snickering, if with a faint stutter. "You actually did it..."

"I told you I could," Inui deadpanned. "And as a bonus, his wrists will grow lanky by the end of the day, and he'll probably walk around with a slight upturn bend in them."

The hisslike snicker sounded again. "That'll drive Momoshiro crazy... I like it."

"I thought you would."

Snort. "Fine, I admit defeat. You won the bet. I never would have thought Echizen would fall for it..."

"I never make a bet I can't win, Kaidoh." His lips made a slight upturn. "And speaking of winning... I wish to claim my prize now..."

Kaidoh gave him a soft frown, mumbled "Sempai..."

Inui touched a knuckle to Kaidoh's chin, coaxed him to meet his eyes and leaned closer.

Their lips met.

-end-