Disclaimer: The Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi.
Warnings: Sexual innuendos? It's hardly there, but for squeamish readers I guess it could be a bit much…

Thirty Below

"Stay away from me." It wasn't that hard of a request. Honestly. It required him to stand just a few dozen feet to the other side and she would be satisfied. Hell, even a few inches and—

"I don't want to."

Ann's back pressed against the wall and she gave a brief thought to the insects and dirt that was probably engrained in its surface before turning her attention to the male body before her. She'd heard of him. There wasn't a person who hadn't – Kirihara Akaya, the protégé of one of the greatest war generals, Yukimura Seiichi. And right now, if he didn't back off there wouldn't be a Kirihara Akaya for everyone to talk of.

"I'm going to kill you," Ann said slowly. "Very, very painfully."

The smirk on his face grew and he flung his arms around, reminding her of the painfully small cell. "How're you gonna do that, princess? We're thirty below in enemy territory and this cell doesn't even have a sharp rock to kill someone with."

"I have nails," she reminded him, "and they're chipped so I'll bet they'll hurt a hell lot more than anything you've ever gone through."

His eyebrows rose slightly at her language. Ann ignored it – she wasn't some prissy little maiden who waited for her lover, brother, whatever to come back from the war – no, she sent whatever info she could get to her friends and helped out doing whatever she could. Her brother told her once that it'd get her into trouble. She'd ignored him. And like always, he was right; there wasn't much more trouble she could be in other than getting stuck in a four by six cell with Kirihara Akaya of all people.

"You," he said after a minute, "are either very stupid or very brave."

Ann scowled at him. "And you are the most ignorant, insufferable, unbearable person on the face of the earth."

"Those are just synonyms," he told her, preening under her dark glare. "Besides, shouldn't you be worried about your impending death? They aren't known for being gentle."

"Shouldn't you?" Ann shot back. He was the protégé. She was the little spy, grabbing at anything and everything. It wasn't a challenge to see who was needed more.

Kirihara smirked. Ann hated it. Hated how it made him look so much sinister, as if he was goading her, as if he knew something she didn't know and was just begging her to ask. "I'm not afraid of dying," he said simply. "There's not much point to life if you've already done everything."

Her disbelieving stare didn't wipe the smirk from his face. "You can't be older than sixteen," Ann said finally. "That's hardly enough time to have done everything."

"Try me."

After a few minutes, Ann asked, "Will you be completely honest? No lying?"

He scoffed. "We're about to die. Why the hell would I lie?"

She had to give him that. "Fine, fine. How about…gone to France?"

"Two years ago."

"Drank?"

"Since I was twelve."

"Killed somebody?"

Kirihara paused, eyes wary. He had green eyes, Ann noted in the dim lighting. Green eyes and a tangle of black hair. He looked like something out of her mother's cheap romance novels. "Yeah," he said, and Ann stopped in her examination to glance at him. "If you mean one-on-one, then yeah, I have. A lot."

So I'm stuck in here with a murderer who admits he's one, Ann mused. "Have you ever gone in a plane?"

"A few times."

"Lay with a woman?"

From the sudden grin on Kirihara's face, Ann realized that he'd been waiting for her to ask that one. He eyed her with an impish look in his eyes as he drawled, "Have you?"

Ann's eyes widened. "No!"

"With a man, then?" Kirihara asked, still grinning. "You can't be any older than me, probably younger – you must've done something."

I don't care if we're going to die; I'm going to kill him. "Why don't we go back to me killing you with my nails?"

He titled his head back, eyes half-hooded. "I'm going to die either way. Might as well have some fun doing it."

While only her brother knew it, there was a pacifist in Ann. That pacifist was telling her to 'just let the guy have his fun before we all die and you spend all of hell regretting not doing this one good deed'. At times like these, Ann really, really hated that pacifist.

"No, I haven't done anything. Happy?"

"Really." Kirihara sneered at her. "I'm not surprised. A girl like you probably does everything her parents tell her to, right? Except for landing in prison with a wanted man on the other side." He smirked, a thoughtful look entering his eyes. "Y'know, we'll die in here. Still don't want that first kiss?"

You deserve to die, Ann thought for what seemed to be the hundredth time that night – if it was night at all. And it was true; he'd admitted to killing people, and while they'd hardly gone anywhere with their 'game' it didn't take a genius to see that for someone who was under Yukimura's wing he was as twisted as they came. Hell, he didn't even know her name.

But still – Ann had never seen a shade of green that bright before, or lips that looked that wide smirking, or hands that felt so warm when they were holding her – and before she knew it, his lips were down on hers or hers on his and her mind went completely and utterly blank save for one thought—

It doesn't feel so bad, to die like this.

AN: Very short. Kinda sucks how short it is, really. Pointless too, but I've been wanting to write a KiriAn for a while now, so yeah. Hope you enjoyed ^^