There's a certain type of person in this world who can watch the train wreck of Seigaku's tennis club and think to themselves how well behaved it seemed. Indeed, one might find that type of person very much disconcerting, and consider them just as bizarre as the events they watched over with a bemused smile as they sip from their drink bottle.
"Looks like they're not gonna stop anytime soon," they say, a roll of their eyes not hiding the lilt in their voice. "Momo and Kaidoh I can understand, but does Eiji really need to egg them on like that? Ryoma, don't grow up to be an adult like them, promise?"
They turn on the bench, their legs swinging carefree as they take another sip. They meet the boy seated next to them with mirth, and he merely brings a palm to his face in response.
"They're not adults," he remarks, exasperated not at the situation but at their response. "Nowhere near close. And don't act like you're any better, either." Ryoma pulls his hat down, trying to avoid letting the mock surprise on his companion's face affect him. They puff out their cheeks, but he avoids their gaze steadily.
After all, if he were to meet them head on, they might sight the small upwards curl of his lips as he chastises them. The slight redness of his cheeks, and he tries to ignore the warmth of their body sidled up to his. He could not grow used to such closeness, despite the other's regular propensity towards it.
"You wound me, Ryoma! I'm just looking out for my cute underclassman, and here he is, bullying me..." They turn their head, hair almost hitting said underclassman with a flourish. One last sip of their drink before they discard it carelessly down the back of the bench and take to their feet, stretching their arms upwards as they do.
"If you're gonna be mean," they say, cheeks still bulbous as they pout, "I'll just go and spoil Horio instead!"
Ryoma doesn't even have the chance to react out loud, his fingers curling tightly into themselves and his nose crinkled before they let out a snort in response to themselves.
"Actually, that sounds kind of scary... I take it back. Maybe Katsuo and Kachirou would be better? They do have a certain charm to them. Or that first year from Yamabuki, even!"
Any sense of serious feelings towards their earlier statement he might have harboured dissipates then, as he watches them muse out loud.
"...The one who's scary here is you, senpai." He says bluntly, though they seem not to hear him as they fish for their discarded drink bottle and stride away. He lets out a sigh once more, his whole body loosening slightly as they leave. He can't help but feel on edge when they make fun of him, more so than when anyone else does.
The fruity smell that accompanies them, the sly smile they carry, the almost fanciful way they wove themselves into everyone's lives. The warmth of their hand, splayed out between his strands of hair as they pat his head despite protest.
...They really are scary.