Work Text:
There were a lot of benefits to getting older. Ryuzaki Sumire never had to stand on the bus, and in a few years she would be eligible for a senior discount at the store (which was very exciting!).
But sometimes, as Ryuzaki Sumire watched her students run around on the courts, there was a little part of her that wished she were just a few years younger.
One sweltering summer day, she’d been so engrossed in watching the tennis match that she accidentally picked up the wrong water bottle. A water bottle filled with a vile, potion-like substance that could only belong to one Seigaku regular.
She took a sip.
And immediately spit it out with a gag.
But not before a tiny drop slipped down the back of her throat.
“Sensei! Are you okay?” Oishi rushed to his coach’s side.
That’s when she noticed all of her students were staring at her open-mouthed. Well, all of them except for the one person furiously scribbling something in his notebook.
“I’m fine. Now, get back to practice!” As Ryuzaki Sumire got up to shoo everyone back to the courts, she noticed something very weird. Her joints didn’t hurt at all when she stood up. It was almost as if the arthritis in her knees just disappeared.
Almost as if she’d gotten younger.
“The effects should wear off after a few hours.” The way Inui says it made her think he’d known all along what would happen. That maybe he’d even planned this. But Ryuzaki Sumire was too focused on something else to worry about that.
“Echizen Ryoma,” she picked up a spare racket and gestured for Seigaku’s newest regular to meet her on court A.
Body light as a feather, Ryuzaki Sumire danced agilly across the courts, effortlessly returning all of Ryoma’s serves. Well, maybe not effortlessly , but she was returning them and making the cocky newcomer sweat quite a bit which was fun.
All of the other team members had already stopped their own practice and stood huddled around watching the match. They’d heard their coach had been quite a prolific player back in the day, but none of that really clicked until just then.
It was past time for practice to end, but no one made a move to leave. The match went into a tie-breaker. They were neck and neck, switching off who was in the lead every other point, until Ryuzaki Sumire suddenly gained the upper-hand. If she got the next point, she’d win.
Echizen Ryoma telegraphed his next move just a hair. The other regulars likely hadn’t noticed (except maybe Tezuka). Coach Ryuzaki only noticed because Echizen Nanjirou used to make that same mistake back when she was coaching him. She sliced the ball back onto Ryoma’s side of the courts in the opposite direction from where he was expecting it to go. It bounced once. Twice. Echizen Ryoma’s eyes widened slightly and he tugged the brim of his cap over his eyes to hide his shock.
A few people cheered, but for the most part, the courts were completely silent. Everyone was busy trying to take in what had just happened. Their coach had just beat that annoyingly overconfident brat. The same brat that had knocked their favorite data tennis player out of the regulars. Their coach was kind of... awesome .
From that day forward, the regulars gained a newfound respect for their coach. In their eyes, Ryuzaki Sumire was no longer some old hag or “just” their coach. She was a tennis player just like the rest of them.
Ryuzaki Sumire wiped a bead of sweat from her brow as she walked over to shake Echizen Ryoma’s hand, carefully biting back a mada mada dane . She was still his coach after all, she had to maintain some degree of professionalism.
Echizen Ryoma was talented, but his current play was basically a copy of his father’s. (A player she knew like the back of her hand). In a few years, after Ryoma came into his own style, she was sure she wouldn’t have been able to win even when she was in her prime. Maybe Nanjirou himself wouldn’t be able to win.
Excitement bubbled in her chest as she thought this might be their year.
The year Seigaku went all the way to nationals.
***
The effects of the juice started to wear off on Ryuzaki Sumire’s drive home and exhaustion flooded over her like a tidal wave. It had been a while, a very long while, since she’d played like that. And, though the match had been incredibly exhilarating, she felt as if every last ounce of her energy had been sapped away. She collapsed on her bed, managing to send a quick text to one of her friends before dozing off.
“Hey Banjii, I have a new drink for you to try!”