Fishing, Ryoma decided quickly, was boring. Buchou was as still as a statue, looking perfectly prepared to sit there all day, and when Ryoma peered into the slow-moving water there were no fish to be seen. Just greenish-clear water over the dark shadows of rocks, and his own reflection fading into ripples of sky. All that was moving was waterweed, swaying slowly in the underwater current.
When Ryoma looked up, Tezuka-buchou's face was calm and somehow peaceful as he watched the water. Ryoma wanted to ask where all the fish were, but buchou had already mentioned that noise would scare them away. It had been one of the conditions of Ryoma coming along on this trip, which Ryoma thought was kind of stupid because he wasn't Momo-senpai or Kikumaru-senpai, he'd never been noisy or enthusiastic.
At least it was sunny. Ryoma pushed his hands up into the sky, stretching with a yawn and a little put out that Tezuka didn't even seem to notice him moving. Fishing was definitely boring, and next time he was going to insist on a tennis date. Or food; that would be good as well, and Ryoma kind of liked the idea of getting to hold buchou's hand under the table. Maybe if Tezuka caught fish, they could cook them for dinner.
There were glints in the water now, moving against the current, but on closer inspection it appeared that while they were fish they were also tiny � not even as long as his finger. Ryoma watched the way they hid themselves in the shards of sunlight reflecting off the surface, feeling vaguely sulky because there was no point in eating baby fish and buchou was acting as though he wasn't even there. He might as well not have come along, really, but he'd wanted to see what all the fuss was about, why Tezuka valued these rare trips so very much. Probably it was just for the peace and quiet; Ryoma was used to seeing the exasperated headache lines on his face after club practice.
It was pleasantly warm. Ryoma yawned again, feeling like Karupin in a patch of sun, and wondered whether buchou would be offended if he took a nap. He didn't like not being important to Tezuka, and maybe if he waited long enough either something interesting might happen or buchou might give up and finally kiss him. Shrugging to himself, he stretched out in the sunshine and rested his head on Tezuka-buchou's thigh. Tezuka went stiff, of course, but after a moment he relaxed and actually this was quite nice. Ryoma yawned again, and opened lazy eyes to see Tezuka staring quizzically down at him, outlined in shadow against the brightness of the sky.
That was better. Ryoma smiled without really thinking about it, and then flushed a little when buchou's mouth quirked and he arched an amused eyebrow. He didn't move aside, though, or push Ryoma away, so it was probably all right to stay like this. Besides, he was keeping the light off Ryoma's face. Satisfied, Ryoma allowed his eyes to drift shut again as he listened to the chirp and hum of birds and insects in the trees, the gentle ripple of the water. Somewhere on the drowsy edges of sleep, he could feel Tezuka-buchou's fingers begin softly threading through his hair, slow and tentative enough that he knew he wasn't dreaming. Not this time.