Dreams
a Prince of Tennis fanfiction.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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It was a good romantic walk down a dusty road to nowhere-except-maybe-the-horizon.

"Oshitari!" The said person turned around, to see Seigaku's tennis captain, famed Tezuka Kunimitsu, charging towards him at full speed in a cloud of dust. Before he could say anything, Tezuka pulled on his arm and hid behind him and his steel blue regular's jacket, sighing in relief.

"What the hell-"

"Don't say anything. Please. I beg of you." Oshitari contemplated his stand, only to see another cloud of dust in front of his face. Atobe, in a flashy designer suit and a sinister smile, which was further emphasized by the twenty centimeters long cleaver in his right hand, appeared in the cloud of dust like some duel scene.

"Where is he?!" Atobe narrowed his eyes even more, if it was actually possible.

"He who?" Oshitari retorted back against his logical side to not bother a person with a nearly 8 inch long sharp cutting device. Atobe shifted the cleaver to the side of his throat, not noticing the extra hand on Oshitari's arm, which was tensing up.

"Tezuka! I know you're somewhere there, even if I can't see you! Spit it out! Tell me your marks for your Greek exaaam!" Atobe applied pressure onto Oshitari's throat. A dull pain and Oshitari could sense a trickle. He kept quiet. Soon after, about a teaspoon of blood, Atobe gave up and stepped back. Just when Oshitari thought that all was well, Atobe lifted his arm and clicked his finger. Seven men in black came from thin air and start to beat Oshitari to pulp. In the midst of clearly-sound-effect beating up noise, Oshitari could feel Tezuka retching at his supposedly bloody body.

Finally, at some point of time, all of them stopped and went off from stage right. Oshitari, who felt particularly in-character especially after the beat-up scene, decided that it was most probably right to play dead when the story progresses to this point and decided to do just that. He stumbled and crumbled backwards (Because that's how they do it in films.).

"Oh. I'm dying." He decided to add for good measure. The response was something entirely unexpected.

"Oshitari! Oh, Oshitari, no Yuushi, my dear friend!" Atobe fell to his knees, crying. "Die not! Do not leave me! I need you, Yuushi, I love you. Leave me not in this cruel world with evil Greek-failing people like Tezuka and hypocrites and arrogant people with too much money, without the comforting presence of your being!"

Oshitari didn't know what to say. He settled with "……I'm sorry, Keigo……", hoping it will somehow shock him to wake up and understand all this horrible mess he is in by using his forbidden given name. Instead…

"No! Yuushi, it is I who is utterly, totally, entirely, absolutely sorry to you, for the beat up just now, a few minutes ago during tennis practice, just yesterday in literature class, two days ago because of your five minute essay on why you hate the color purple, four days ago for your absent-mindedness to compliment by new silk shirt, a week ago on your greeting to Mukahi before me in tennis practice, and all the beatings before that; and also for all the sufferings you bore in my place like when you were my scapegoat for when I was playing with my handphone in Home Econs! Don't leave me!"

Thinking that this is quite enough climax for him to handle, Oshitari ended off. "Keigo…Goodbye." And he got to touch his cheek, which was soft and entirely flawless. Knowing that this could probably end off like the best die-in-your-lover's-arms scene ever, he softly fingered Atobe's tear mole, and dropped his arm while his head rolled off ever so slightly to his left towards Atobe and his eyelids drooped behind his fake glasses as if in deep sleep. He felt the strong arms under him shake in disbelief.

"Yuushi." This came out as a whisper. Aw, he would really like to crank up his eyelid and take a look at Atobe's priceless expression, but it would ruin the show. His arms were very comfortable. "Yuushi. Yuushi, Yuushi, Yuushi!" He could feel Atobe's silken fingers patting his cheeks, hoping for a response. "Yuushi! Get up!" He was being propped up now, by Atobe, as he fervently hoped that Atobe would not spot the smallest hint of a smile creeping up the sides of his lips, although he doubt so since he was being shaken so violently his mouth wouldn't show. Then he was set down abruptly, two frantic hands on his chest near his heart and a mouth covered his own, wiping off his smart-ass smile off his face. Trust Atobe to make the best decision at the point of life and death.

After what seemed like eternity with Atobe's hot breath on his right cheek and slightly tickling his nose, and the lines of salty tears rolling from the edge of Atobe's eyes which Oshitari can taste a little from the corner of his mouth, as Oshitari fought the urge to kiss back, if Atobe was really kissing him or only trying to rescue him or both or whatever, Atobe pulled away, and wiped his wet cheeks with the back of his hand. Oshitari assumed that was what he did, because what happened next was Atobe used the same hand to wipe his own cheeks. It was damp.

"Yuushi, you do not have to cry for me…" Wait a minute, he was crying? "I'll meet you in heaven. Someday…Today…Soon…Now…" Each word was stressed with a gentle thumb wiping his right cheek. Okay, he was definitely crying. Then,

"Allow me." Tezuka, who was Missing In Action for the greater part of the story, pushed Atobe aside. Oshitari felt Atobe's hand abruptly leave his face and his fingers threaded through his blue hair. And suddenly a cool blast of air hit his face. Oshitari, in curiosity, momentarily forgot his role in this sappy romance film and opened his eyes, only to see Tezuka blowing into his face like some kiss of life and Atobe looking at Oshitari in horror.

Oh right, he was supposed to be dead. Knowing he has no where else to hide, he concluded his only way out was to…

Oshitari opened his eyes lazily. "Where…Where am I?" He peered around his surroundings, and tried to sit up like he was hurt and everything, which was easy since he had been doing it nearly everyday, but it was real, that is. He felt the pair of strong arms again encircling his waist and lifting him up to a proper sitting position.

"Yuushi…You're alive…" The voice belonged to Atobe, still very much in disbelief.

"Am I…In heaven? Why are you here, Keigo?" Suddenly, Oshitari really did not want this to end. Not only was this fun, it was also better than any cheesy romance films he had at home since this actually starred him. And Atobe. Atobe nodded, one hand pulling away from his waist to lightly caress the nape of his neck, lightly prodding it as well as if to make sure it was really him and not some weird go-through-able spirit of a dead soul. Oshitari, in turn, lifted his hand and stroked the familiar unblemished cheek of his captain. All this was shit surreal.

And then, he surprised himself by leaning in for a kiss.

The lips were somewhat hard. Hmm, he always thought of them to be tender and velvety, not like this…It feels like some other body part. What can it be…

His eyes snapped open.

"F-, f-...foot." What met his eyes was hair a shade of blue similar to his own, fashioned in a ponytail. Looking down, he saw narrowed, fuming eyes, attached to a face very alike his sister's. Very very alike. It's almost as if…

"YUUSHI!! WAKE UP!! If you don't stop sucking my forehead this instance I will make sure you will be living in hell for as long as I live!"

All he could do was to grin sheepishly as his older sister walloped him with a bolster, dragged him off his bed, force-fed him his breakfast and drove him off to school. Does it matter to him now he's been to heaven and back?

Owari.

-

Thank you Hana-chan, my most amazing muse in the world, for the storyline! Lovvies 3

...OMG I can't believe I posted this.