Disclaimer: Don't own Prince of Tennis.

Jirou Akutagawa didn't understand Hamlet. He didn't understand Romeo and Juliet. He didn't understand funerals, war casualties, crime rates, and domestic abuse. He didn't understand natural disasters and freak accidents. He didn't understand homicide and suicide and genocide. He didn't understand movies and books with sad endings. Jirou Akutagawa didn't understand pain, suffering, and sadness.

Jirou Akutagawa didn't understand tragedy, until one day.

Jirou jumped at the sound of his teacher slamming a book down on his desk. His eyes fluttered open, and he sat up, wiping the drool off his face with the back of his hand. "Stop sleeping in class, Akutagawa!" he exclaimed before even giving Jirou a chance to explain himself. "Go to the office!"

"Just for falling asleep in class?" he asked blearily, blinking a few times.

"You have a phone call," his teacher sighed. "Now go."

Jirou stood up and walked to the front of the room. He took the hall pass and yawned as he headed to the office. He opened the door and stumbled in lazily, not quite fully awake yet. "My teacher says I have a phone call…" he explained to the secretary.

"Yeah," she said, handing him the phone over the desk. Jirou held it to his ear.

"Hullo?" he yawned as the secretary began to type on her keyboard noisily.

"Yes, is this Jirou Akutagawa?" Jirou didn't recognize the official-sounding voice at all.

"Uh-huh," he replied, shifting a bit. "Who's this?"

"I'm Officer Yamamoto, it's nice to meet you, Jirou-kun."

Jirou's body froze up. "Am I going to jail?" he demanded a little more loudly than he should have. The secretary gave him a perturbed glance, then adjusted her tiny glasses and went back to her computer. Jirou blushed and turned his body away from her.

"Of course not," replied Officer Yamamoto, sounding sympathetic. "Jirou-kun, I have some bad news…"

Jirou stood, the phone pressed to his ear. He was completely and utterly confused. What did this Officer Yamamoto have to do with him? What kind of bad news could he possibly have? He didn't even know him. Was he still dreaming? Back asleep in physical science? His heart began to pound a little harder, and he was having a tough time breathing. "Oh," he breathed. "Well, what is it?"

"Jirou-kun… Your family was involved in a car accident. They're dead."

Jirou's heart seemed to stop. He had to be dreaming. "Wh-what?" he whispered. "You're joking, right? It's a joke."

"Ah, Jirou-kun, I wish it was." Officer Yamamoto sounded regretful.

"N-no," he stuttered, "It wasn't them! You're wrong..." Before he could even realize what was happening, there were tears streaming down his face. The secretary was looking at him skeptically.

"Jirou-kun, I spoke to your father before he died. He specifically told me to tell you. He wanted you to know that he loves you and he's proud of you… Your mother and siblings were killed instantly. Look, I'm coming to pick you up in about an hour and bring you here to identify the bodies."

"What?" he demanded. "What the hell are you talking about? Stop lying!" By now the secretary had risen out of her seat and hurried to the principal's office.

"I'm sorry, Jirou-kun. I know this is hard for you, but—"

Jirou's hand let go of the phone as his mind and heart began to race. This couldn't be happening to him, nothing like this could ever happen to him. Why was he suddenly so alone in the world? His family couldn't really be dead, could they? It couldn't happen to him! He began to sob loudly, until the principal called him into his office. Jirou didn't move. His principal could just come out there if he wanted to talk to him.

"Akutagawa?" he asked in monotone. Jirou turned to him. There was nothing on his face, no emotion whatsoever.

"What?" asked Jirou, unable to believe that he himself was still alive after the news he'd just received.

"You'll be picked up by Officer Yamamoto in an hour. You can wait in the infirmary. I'm sorry."

With that, he turned and left. Jirou began to cry again. That bastard had known the whole time. He felt the secretary's arms around him, and heard her voice shushing him and telling him it would be all right.

"Jirou?" he heard a voice ask incredulously, and he looked up to see Gakuto Mukahi, standing in the doorway of the office. "Kimura-sensei asked me to see what was taking you so long… Why are you crying?"

"M-my family died in a car crash," he replied, his body shaking all over. He could hardly see Gakuto's shocked face through his tear-blurred vision, and the secretary asked him to take him to the infirmary.

"Come on, Jirou," said Gakuto gently, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. "It'll be okay…"

Jirou slowly trudged through the hallway, sobbing the whole way to the infirmary. Gakuto was saying every nice thing he could think of, and Jirou appreciated that, he really did, but it honestly wasn't making him feel any better. He was in complete shock, and nothing that anyone said at that moment could change that. He still couldn't help but to think that everything was just a big joke, that Yamamoto was secretly Oshitari, and that Gakuto was in on this and would start laughing at his tears at any second now.

And at that point, Jirou wouldn't even be mad. He would even laugh with them! Anything was better than his whole family being dead… He was dragging his feet and not watching where he was going—he had his face buried in Gakuto's shoulder, clutching his arm tightly. Gakuto suddenly stopped pulling him along, causing Jirou to stop shambling. He didn't know why they had stopped, but he didn't really care. A familiar voice fell on his ears.

"What happened?" asked Keigo Atobe flatly. Jirou could imagine that his expression was something like Gakuto's had been after Jirou had told him that his family was dead. No one had ever seen Jirou cry. In fact, Jirou couldn't even remember the last time he'd cried so hard.

"He needs to go to the infirmary," snapped Gakuto defensively, and Jirou could tell that he was trying to keep what had happened to him a secret. It was silly of Gakuto—he didn't care who knew, but his best friend was just trying to protect him.

"Is he hurt?" asked Atobe, sounding worried. He was closer to them now, because Jirou could hear that in his voice.

"No," replied Gakuto solemnly. "Don't ask questions right now, okay Atobe?"

"Well, here, Ore-sama will pick him up if he can't walk. He'll get there faster that way…"

"You? Really?" Gakuto scoffed. "Where's your goony?"

Atobe sounded offended. "If you mean Kabaji, he's in class. Ore-sama was using the restrooms. But while we're on the subject of companions, where's your fuck buddy Yuu-chan?" he asked smugly, and Jirou just began to cry harder.

"There's nothing going on between us, for the last time!"

"Can you guys not do this right now?" cried Jirou, his voice shaking, even though he knew it was his fault. Both of his friends were edgy about hearing him cry like this.

"Ore-sama would like to apologize, Jirou," said Atobe, not sounding sorry at all.

"Me too," responded Gakuto quickly. "Let him carry you, Jirou."

"I don't care," moaned Jirou despairingly, burying his face in his hands. He felt his body being lifted easily and pulled into Atobe's arms. He clung to his shirt and cried all over his chest.

"Jirou, please don't cry all over Ore-sama's shirt," he said, sounding a bit miffed.

"Keigo Atobe, don't you dare say that to him!" he exclaimed.

"What?" demanded Atobe as they began to walk. "It was a simple request."

Jirou lifted his eyes to Atobe's face. "I-I'm sorry, Kei-chan. I'll stop…" he choked, and Atobe seemed suddenly regretful.

"…Forget it, Jirou. Ore-sama has an extra in Ore-sama's locker…" He pressed his head gently against his chest again, skillfully using his elbow to continue to support Jirou. "Cry all you want."

Gakuto and Atobe walked on in silence, and the only noise was Jirou's quiet sobs. They soon reached the infirmary, and Gakuto exchanged words with the nurse. Jirou couldn't understand anything that anyone had said, to him or to anyone else present, and he didn't open his eyes until Atobe was laying him on one of the beds in the infirmary. It was totally empty besides the three of them.

They both were staring down at him, and his head began to clear. Gakuto reached down the push back his hair. "You okay?" he asked, seeming extremely sorry. Atobe had a similar expression, only besides sympathy, his held curiosity. Jirou still didn't understand how that jerk could get off on something like this, and he wanted to yell at him. But he didn't have the strength to yell or the clarity to even know what to say at that moment, so he stayed quiet. Then he remembered, Atobe had no idea what had happened.

Jirou shook his head at Gakuto's question. He was certainly not okay. Atobe sat on the foot of his bed, then stared up at him. "What happened, Jirou?" he asked, sounding as if he was a detective about to begin an interrogation. Where had all that compassion gone? "Why is a police officer going to take you out of school?"

"My family's dead," he said flatly, his body shaking. Atobe's eyes widened in shock, and his lips parted slightly. Jirou felt bad about saying it like that, but there was no other way to put it. His family was dead. And that was that.

"Oh my god," muttered Atobe quietly, seeming genuinely surprised. "I—Ore-sama is so sorry, Jirou. Ore-sama had no idea that…" He trailed off, seeming at a loss.

"Well, I gotta get back to class, Jirou," said Gakuto quietly. Jirou could see that his hands were shaking slightly, and he felt guilty about dumping this on his friends. "Come on, Atobe."

Atobe stood up, then paused for what Jirou could have guessed was dramatic effect. He hesitated for a moment before uttering the word, "No."

"What?" asked Gakuto, his eyes narrowing.

"Ore-sama has decided that Ore-sama will be accompanying Jirou to the police station."

"What?" demanded Gakuto as Atobe positioned his hand over his face and stared deeply into Jirou's eyes.

"And Jirou will very much appreciate this gesture," he finished with a small, thoughtful smile. "Will he not?"

"Th-thank you, Kei-chan," said Jirou, trying not to cry. Kindness was just too much for him to handle at that moment.

Gakuto sighed and smiled, lowering his head. "Take care of him, Atobe," he instructed, then leaned forward and hugged Jirou tightly. "Good luck," he whispered into his ear, then pulled away. "I'm going. Bye."

After Gakuto had departed, Atobe looked down at Jirou and smiled. "Ore-sama will alert the household," he explained, then turned to go. "Ore-sama will return momentarily."

Jirou wanted to go with him, despite the fact that he'd be right outside the door. At that moment, he desperately did not want to be alone. He smothered himself with the pillow on the bed and sobbed into it until Atobe came back. To Jirou's surprise, he lay beside him and pulled him into his arms. "Kei-chan," he gasped, "It's not fair…"

"Nothing is fair, Jirou," he admonished gently.

That phrase had never seemed truer to him in his entire life.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Jirou stumbled out of the bathroom, his vision blurry and his head spinning. He fell onto his hands and knees and the door closed on his ankle, but Atobe was there to pull him back onto his feet. "Come on, Jirou, sit down," he instructed him softly, and Jirou placed his hand over his mouth and began to sob. He wasn't sure how many times he could possibly throw up, but that trip to the bathroom had been his fourth. "Officer Yamamoto has something he wants to talk to you about…"

Jirou let Atobe lead him, but he couldn't understand what more the man wanted from him. He had just identified his four deceased family members—shouldn't that be enough for him? Atobe opened the door for him, and he spilled into Yamamoto's office and staggered to the chair in front of his desk. His knees gave out and he collapsed into it, staring blearily at the policeman's face.

"Jirou-kun," he began. His face was tired and blasé like he'd seen everything before and done it a thousand times over. It pissed Jirou off. "You realize that you're an orphan now?"

"Orphan?" repeated Jirou, ignoring the frightened tone of his voice. "So?"

"So do you have any extended family to live with?"

Jirou shrugged. "No… I thought I was going to live here…"

Yamamoto stared at him in disbelief, then relaxed his face in a 'very funny' way. "Well, I'll arrange for you to be sent to an orphanage, so—"

"An orphanage?" demanded Jirou, nearly standing up. "I don't wanna go to an orphanage."

Yamamoto shook his head apologetically. "Sorry, but there's nothing I can do, Jirou-kun. Look, you'll be fine. I promise."

"But, my family just died! This is totally brutal!"

Yamamoto sighed and opened his mouth, seeming a bit flustered that Jirou failed to understand absolutely everything, but he stopped when his office door opened. "Excuse ore-sama," began Atobe, walking into the room, "but ore-sama couldn't help but to overhear Jirou's predicament…"

"O…Ore-sama?" asked Yamamoto, seeming utterly confused. "Who are you?"

"Ore-sama is Keigo Atobe, Jirou's dear friend…" Atobe examined his nails impertinently as if he speaking to a small child. He raised his blue eyes to stare at Yamamoto. "May Ore-sama continue?"

"Y-yes…"

"Ore-sama has a proposition for you. Perhaps Ore-sama's family could adopt Jirou."

Jirou turned around and stared at him incredulously. "Kei-chan, don't—"

"Be quiet, Jirou," he replied, smirking at him.

"Look," began Yamamoto, propping his elbows up on his desk and holding his head in his hands, "It's not my problem. If you want to take him in, then be my guest. And if that's the case, you're free to go, Jirou-kun."

"Wh-what about my family?" he asked glumly, standing up.

"Ore-sama will arrange for a funeral," stated Atobe solemnly.

"Kei-chan, you can't—"

"Ore-sama will do as Ore-sama pleases. Now, Ore-sama is calling for a ride, and we will go to your house so you can get your things."

"But, Kei-chan!"

"No arguing, Jirou… Now come on."

Jirou stood up and bowed slightly to Yamamoto. "Thank you for everything, Yamamoto-san," he said, ignoring his extremely confused face. This would be an expected reaction for a person who didn't know Atobe.

"You're welcome?"

Jirou followed Atobe out of the office, grabbing onto his arm when he began to feel lightheaded. "Kei-chan, listen to me. You can't do all this stuff for me!"

"Ore-sama can do whatever Ore-sama wants to do," muttered Atobe, leading him out of the police station. They sat on the steps outside in complete silence. Jirou continually scooted closer to Atobe every few seconds until their shoulders were touching.

"Are you finished crying, Jirou?" he asked softly.

"I'm burned out," the shorter boy replied. He leaned his head on Atobe's shoulder.

"That's fine," crooned Atobe into his ear, wrapping his arm around his waist.

There was another long period of silence before Jirou spoke. "Keigo…"

"Hm? What is it?" he asked, seeming to have been tugged out of deep thought.

"I can't go home yet…" He tried to control the tears that were sliding down his face until he realized that he had already failed.

"Ore-sama will arrange for your belongings to be retrieved," he said softly as a black Range Rover pulled in front of the station.

Atobe took Jirou's hand and led him to the car.