Okay everyone, here is the happier sequel to my earlier fic Every So Often. This was requested by a lot of you, and I hope you enjoy it. I have to say, I like Every So Often better. ...Maybe I just like writing angst.
Warning: PoT may cause dizziness, loss of feeling, bloody noses, and an incredibly loose tongue. Please use responsibly.
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, I simply use the characters for my own amusement.
On with the fic!
It was pure chance that they met again, in the doctor's office where Atobe was there for his checkup
It was pure chance that they met again, in the doctor's office where Atobe was there for his checkup. In his hands he held a fashion magazine, it's headline reading "Akutagawa Fall Line, Coming Soon." Feigning disinterest—because really, an Atobe reading a fashion magazine?—he flipped through the pages and marveled at how nice they were. Then the door opened.
"Hi, no I don't have an appointment. I just came to have this looked at. No, really, I don't have to go to the ER, that's okay." Atobe didn't even look up until the person sat next to him. And even then, it took a "Ehhhh? Atobe?!" to even make him glance over.
"J-Jiro?! What are you doing here? …What happened to your hand?"
"The new fabric I got decided it hates me. I cut my hand. But I don't need to go to the ER, really I'm fine." Atobe smiled, really smiled for the first time in a long time.
He remembered that Jiro was afraid of doctors.
Not too bad, right? Reviews are love! Con/Crit appreciated.